#(the only people that brought it up was the guy who went to middle school with me and the guy I ended up being friends with for a while)
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ayakashibackstreet · 8 months ago
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Listening to a video game talk in the background of my work and like... were smartphones already so big in 2013? As in, widely adopted to the point of high schoolers bringing them to school? Was that an America/Western Europe thing? I know I have memory issues and 2013 just so happens to be the time that I have trouble remembering but... really? 2013? Was that a thing? Maybe it was and I just can't recall? Uhhh?
I know me not having a smartphone in like 2015 was weird, to the point where I was the 'retro tech' guy back near the end of middle school but... uh. I'm a little confused.
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dazzlerwriting · 3 months ago
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a long long time
jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader
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pictures from pinterest!!
word count: 2.8k
summary: childhood best friends, who always felt a bit more about each other, finally see each other after 12 years. will all their wishes come true at the Seresin holiday party?
warnings: childhood best friends to lovers! fluff!! cheesy goodness!! no use of y/n but reader does uses she/her pronouns! pet names: sweets, sweetheart, darlin, tiny dancer. no looks are given besides an outfit!
an: this is heavily inspired by ‘Its been a long long time’ by harry james! definitely recommend listening to it while reading! can you guys tell i love when people dance together as a form of intimacy? thank you to my friends who have no clue who jake is, who proofread this. & thank you guys for all the love on my other two fics! this is incredibly new to me so to see that people like the stories is really amazing. thank you. likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated!!
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Growing up, Jake Seresin was always by your side. Jake’s mom and your mom were best friends, meaning the two of you were destined to be in each other’s lives. Of course, you two went through the phases of disgust when one of you thought the other had cooties, but they never deterred your friendship. When you would fall off your bike and cry because you scraped your knee, Jake would immediately be by your side. Jake’s PeeWee football games never had a silent crowd, of course not. Little you would be right there next to his parents, screaming the loudest for him. A dance recital, nervous about your performances? Don’t worry, Jake would be right there in the front row next to both of your families, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
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High school hit, and Jake became the star football player who girls and guys alike pined after. You on the other hand were a quiet theater kid, dancing still, and leading the school newspaper. Despite running in different social circles, you two were still attached at the hip. The sharp stares you received from girls who wanted Jake would burn into your head, but you never let that affect your friendship. The free time you two had was spent with each other, taking long drives when you needed to clear your head, watching new episodes of TV shows you both enjoyed, and studying together. There has always been a hint of something more between you two, but out of fear of ruining things, you never made a move. Although, there was a time during your senior year when the possibility of being something more didn’t seem as distant. You two had just taken a long drive to a field in the middle of Texas to watch the sunset. It was then that you two shared your first kiss, and then it was over, and neither of you brought it back up. You knew you had feelings for him. That wasn’t even a question. But those feelings would not outweigh your friendship, you’d rather have him in this way, than in no way at all.
When Jake got into the Naval Academy, you were ecstatic for him. He had been dreaming about getting out of here since you were little tots, and now he had his out. You got into a school an hour away for Broadcast Journalism, and he was just as excited for you. When you told him, he picked you up and spun you around, both of you reminiscing on the days when he would play with his model planes and you would pretend to report every little thing that was happening around you two. Graduation day came and went, and soon you were getting ready to send Jake on his way to Maryland.
“Don’t forget me when you become a hot shot pilot mister.” You said to him with tears in your eyes. He looked back at you with something that could only be described as melancholy and kissed your forehead, “I could never forget you tiny dancer. Plus we can still keep up with each other, and I’ll see you over the holidays!”
You two kept up with each other for the first two years of your college time, but communication became scarce. He didn’t come home for the holidays, you couldn’t blame him though. He finally got out of there, he was doing what he always wanted to do. Communication between the two of you completely went away during your junior year. You’ve kept up with him through your parents and his, and to say you were proud was an understatement.
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It’s been 12 years since you last saw Jake Seresin. You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about him a lot of the time. After you graduated from UT at Austin, you moved back home and started to work at the local news station as an Anchor. Your free time is spent with friends, going out to bars, or just brunch together. They always hound you about finding a guy, “Come on!! You’re single, hot, and an amazing person!” “You can’t just sit here all night, come meet Tyler, I promise you’ll like him! Please?” You knew they had good intentions, with their bright smiles and kind words. So you tried. You would go out with who they wanted you to, but every time, it felt as though something was missing. You knew what was missing, you just didn’t want to admit it. Seasons change but you don’t think your feelings for those
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The holiday season is always your favorite time of year. From October to January, you feel lighter. Walking around to see decorations everywhere, families laughing together, and hot apple cider to warm the now-cold Texas air. Work is busy, but you can’t complain, you love your job. Recently you covered a story about a baker and her husband who had just celebrated the 30th anniversary of their bakery by having the cutest reindeer cookies and a huge cake for everyone who may want a slice.
Tonight is the annual Seresin family Christmas party, and just like every other year, you hold on to hope that Jake will be there. You know it’s a stretch, but you can’t help but be hopeful.
You bought a new outfit just for tonight, a red cable knit sweater, a black mini-skirt with black transparent tights, and black leather boots that went up to your calves. After adding some touch-ups to your makeup, you decided you were ready to go, grabbed your purse, and headed towards the Seresin’s house. It was about a 5-minute walk from your new place, which is quite convenient, and you spent the entire walk with your head in the clouds, daydreaming about the pilot who stole your heart all those years ago.
Walking into the house you spent so much time at as a child, a sense of warmth feels you. The entire house smells like freshly baked cookies, Christmas lights twinkle along the hallway, and the sounds of laughter and soft Christmas music fills your ears. Mama Seresin sees you and you are immediately engulfed in a hug that could probably fix anybody who is on the receiving side of it. “Oh my goodness look at you!!! You get more beautiful each time I see you.” You felt your face heat up instantly, shying away a bit from her kind words. “Thank you mama Seresin. I’m happy to be here again, happy holidays.” She pulled back and had an incredulous look on her face.
“Thank me?? Sweetheart, you are welcome at this house any day, any time. Make yourself at home, tonight should be a wonderful night.” She winked at you and left you standing there in the entryway.
After making your rounds, you grabbed yourself a drink and sat on the couch watching “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” with one of Jake’s sisters. She kept looking over at you with a sly smirk on her face so you snapped, “What is going on with y’all tonight? First your mama winks at me, Elizabeth said she was ‘So excited’ for me tonight, and now you can’t stop looking at me like the cat who caught the canary! So what is going on?” With an exasperated look on your face, you fully turn to look at her. Charlotte just slides off the couch and smiles, “We’re just happy to see you and we are hoping you have a great time tonight.” With the cryptic answer said, she walks away leaving you to sit there in your skepticism.
After an hour or so, everyone has made it and dinner is about to be served. At least you thought everyone had made it, that is until you hear a knock on the door. Mama Seresin rushes to open it, and you lean over the arm of the couch to see who it is. You can’t tell if it's the winter air or who you see standing there, but a chill runs down your spine. In all his glory, Jake Seresin is standing there with several suitcases and a bright smile on his face. Taking him in, you notice he’s grown into himself in the last 12 years, His sandy blonde hair isn’t as long, he’s filling in the brown button-up shirt very nicely, and he’s grown at least 3 inches since you last saw him. He’s still got his cowboy boots on and a smile that could light up a room, so not everything has changed. Finally, you look back up to his face, and you lock eyes with the man who has never left your mind.
You stand, mouth agape, and the two of you finally make your way to each other. You meet in the middle of the entryway, and as soon as his arms are around you it’s like everybody and everything fades away. You stay there in the comfort of each other’s arms for a few more seconds and when you finally pull away, the sounds from the rest of the house fade back in. Looking at each other, you feel a warmth creeping up your neck, the chill from earlier has fully disappeared. “Hi,” you said with a shy smile as you fiddle with the cuff of his sleeve. “Hi sweetheart,” he replies with the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. The moment is broken when someone clears their throat behind you, “Dinner is ready.” You turn and see the Seresin women standing there with smirks across all of their faces. Looking back at Jake you realize he’s got a scowl on his face, and you just giggle a bit. At the sound of your giggle, he looks back at you, the scowl being replaced with a shy smile, “We can talk after dinner?” You nod your head and make your way toward the dining room.
Dinner is the most delicious thing, but you would never expect anything less from Mama Seresin. She always cooks things with love, which makes things 10,000 times better. Once you get turned away from helping with dishes, you make your way outside to get some air. It’s a bit chilly, the backyard is decorated with lights strung across the way, the music from inside the house carries softly across the yard although it’s muffled, and stars are shining so bright in the night sky. You see a plane fly across the sky and you huff out a laugh, realizing your dreams of seeing Jake again, came true tonight. At least you know why the family acted so odd tonight. You take a seat in one of the cushy chairs sat up in the backyard, and stare up at the sky.
Surely Jake didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight, Has he changed a lot? Did he miss you as much as you missed him? Was your pining so obvious to everyone that they sat this up? Your mind starts spiraling with thoughts, and a bit of nervous tension sets in as you sit out there. The music gets less muffled for a second, meaning someone has just opened the back door, but it’s quickly snuffed back out. You don’t bother to turn your head, your mind is busy with so many questions. In your peripheral, you see the man on your mind take a seat next to you. He looks up at the sky and you can feel the nervousness roll off of you both as you sit there.
You turn to look at him, right as he turns to look at you, and you both sit there taking each other in for a second. “So-” “It was-” You both start trying to talk simultaneously and once you realize, you both start giggling. You nod your head to tell him he can go first, and with a shy smile he rubs the back of his neck and says, “It was nice to see you again sweetheart, I was really hoping you’d be here.” That warmth from earlier creeps back up your neck, and you smile softly at him. “I was hoping you’d be here too cowboy.” You both just sit there with smiles, and after a few beats of silence you add quietly, “I missed you.” What you could only call longing, flashes in his eyes, before he smiles at you, “I missed you too tiny dancer.”
The two of you fall into easy conversation. He tells you all about the Naval Academy, and how he is the “best of the best,” which you don’t doubt. Once he sets his mind on something, he doesn’t give up. You learn he’s living out in San Diego, but he constantly misses the Texas skyline. You tell him all about your experience at UT at Austin, and how your job at the local news station is going. You both continue just telling each other what you’ve both missed out on.
At some point, the conversation shifts to relationships. You take a deep breath and ask, “So do you have anyone special waiting for you back in California?” He takes a minute to just look at you before responding, “No sweetheart, I don’t. Do you have anyone missing you tonight?” You let out your breath at the word “no,” and chuckle. “The only person missing me tonight is my fish, Mr. Speckle.” He throws back his head and barks out a laugh at that, before looking back at you with a wide smile. It shifts to a bit of an apprehensive smile before he asks, “Is there any reason? You’re a gorgeous girl who is amazing sweetheart, I’m sure guys are lining up for a date with you.”
You knew you could try and lie to him, but he knows you too well. He would immediately figure you out, so you shake your head and respond truthfully. “I’ve tried over the years. But every single time, it didn’t feel right. Something was always missing. It took me a while to realize what that was.”
“And what was that?” His face is a bit more hopeful now, or maybe you’re just going crazy. After a moment of just looking into his eyes, you turn to fidget with your sweater and finally speak. “They weren’t you Jake.” It came out softer than you thought it would. The silence surrounds you like a suffocating room, and panic starts to claw its way up your throat.
You’re about to apologize profusely when Jake finally speaks. “That’s why I don’t have anyone waiting for me sweets. They weren’t you. The gorgeous girl I’ve known since diapers, who has always been so caring. Who put others before herself. The girl who knows me and my family, and still chooses to be around us.” You stare at him with wide eyes, trying to absorb everything that was just said. Softly, you reply, “I will always choose you, Jake. The boy who didn’t let me go to bed upset. The boy who constantly cheered me on in everything I did. The boy who set his sights on something and chased it. ” Your chest feels lighter, while your heart beats at a lightspeed rate.
Looking at Jake, he has a boyish grin on his face, rubbing the back of his neck again. In the blink of an eye, he is in front of you with his hand held out. You look at him like you’re considering your options for a second, just to make him sweat a bit, but ultimately you take his hand with an affectionate smile. He pulls you close and wraps his arms around your waist, your arms going around his neck, playing with the collar of his shirt. The two of you dance to the muffled music coming from inside, under the twinkling lights of the backyard you’ve spent so much time in over the years. You look up at him to find him already staring at you. He’s got a look of love in his eyes, and you’re sure he sees the same look in yours.
“So can I take you out tomorrow sweetheart? I should’ve asked you that years ago.” He asks with a smirk across his lips. You mirror his smirk as you respond, “You sure can cowboy. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You both slowly lean in, and your lips meet in a short kiss that makes fireworks go off in your stomach. You both pull away, but that one kiss isn’t enough. The two of you share another short kiss, before breaking out into a long deep kiss. He dips you a bit with this one. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of has come true under the twinkling lights. You’ll have to make sure to send the Seresin women some cookies and flowers for planning this.
From inside the house, the Seresin family is silently cheering. They’ve watched both of you pine after each other for so long, they knew y’all just needed a bit of a push in the right direction.
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theemporium · 10 months ago
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can i request 💜 "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know." with luke hughes please!!
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
22. "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know."
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In a sport like hockey, you got used to being called a variety of different names for a variety of stupid reasons. 
Some made sense. Some had a funny backstory. Some were born from an embarrassing memory you could never escape. Some had no real correlation but it was used once and it stuck and now the whole team used it. It was just one of the dynamics of hockey that you got used to pretty early on. 
And the thing was that Luke didn’t hate his name. He didn’t, it would have broken his parents heart if he said as much. It just wasn’t exactly like he was ecstatic for people to throw ‘Luke Warren Hughes’ at him. Or at least, he didn’t like it when his middle name was brought into the locker room. 
Maybe it was PTSD from the teasing he got when he was in middle school. Maybe it was the fact it sounded a little like it belonged to a sixty year old man. Or maybe it was because he was so damn used to being known as ‘Luke Hughes’ or ‘the other Hughes’, that he sometimes forgot he had a middle name.
Whatever the reason was, Luke never liked it being used in the locker room by the boys. He didn’t really like the name being used, full stop. Unless it was one of his parents using it. He thought he managed to avoid it for years until he joined the New Jersey Devils and met the team—met you.
Because, for some fucking reason that was beyond his own understanding, every rule and belief Luke had went flying out the window when it came to you. 
Including the use of his middle name.
“God, Warren, couldn’t even use a comb this morning?” 
Luke felt his cheeks heat up as he lifted his head to find you wandering into the locker room. Most of the team were already out on the ice, but Luke was one of the stragglers that was still getting his gear on. It wasn’t his fault the team decided team pictures needed to be taken at an ungodly hour before practice. 
“Does it look that bad?” Luke questioned, trying to ignore the pleasant twist in his stomach when you flashed him a smile and made your way over to him.
“I think it looks cute,” you replied, lip tucked between your teeth as you reached out to gently run your fingers through his curls. “Curtis might give you some shit though.”
“Curtis always gives me shit,” he mumbled, letting his eyes flutter shut as your nails gently scraped along his scalp. 
“Hm, well tell him to come talk to me if he gives you a hard time for your curls,” you said, and even with his eyes closed, he could hear the smile in your voice. 
His cheeks burned as he tilted his head back to look at you, his own smile mirroring yours. “Gonna be my knight in shining armour?” 
“M’always gonna have your back, Warren,” you replied, your voice a little softer. A little more genuine. 
He swallowed. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.” 
Your smile widened. “Oh, I know. Jack told me you once got into a fight during a game back in middle school after some guy on the other team used it.”
He groaned a little at the memory. “Quinn and Jack gave me so much shit after that. They called me Warren for a week after that.” 
You snorted. “What did you do?”
“I told on them,” he admitted, a little sheepish. “They got grounded for a week.” 
You laughed and his smile widened at the sound.
“So how come you let me use it?” You asked, something else in your voice that Luke couldn’t quite name but it still made his heart speed up a little.
“I guess I like you more than them.” It was meant to come out light-hearted and teasing, but it felt far too heavy and suggestive once the words left his mouth.
“Enough to grab something to eat after practice?” You asked, so casual and calm like you couldn’t see the way Luke’s whole face was burning a pretty shade of red. 
“More than enough,” he said with a nod, unable to fight the grin off his face when you smiled back.
“Then better get your pretty ass out there before the boys make you do drills after practice for being late,” you teased, laughing as you watched him quickly shove on the rest of his gear before rushing out the door.
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scary-grace · 4 months ago
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Best Practice - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
Taking the night shift at a 24-7 emergency vet hospital isn't for the faint of heart, and you've seen a lot of crazy things. But on one particular shift, it's Tenko Shimura and his service dog who make the biggest impression on you. a silly little fic I wrote while I was at the emergency vet with my dog. No quirks AU, volunteer!reader, pet owner!Shigaraki, Mon-chan lives (and so do any other animals mentioned in this fic). 3.9k words.
The waiting room sounds like hell in a handbasket, but give that this is the only 24/7 emergency vet in the prefecture, that’s not a surprise. You’ve been volunteering here since you got out of school, and there’s never been an overnight shift where things haven’t been completely unhinged. Cats yowling. Dogs barking. Rodents squeaking and birds trilling back and one enormous monitor lizard that’s going berserk inside its crate, scaring every other animal in the same bank of seats. But as bad as the pets are, they’re nowhere near as bad as the owners.
In the five years you’ve been volunteering here, you’ve seen probably thousands of people come in with their sick and injured pets, and none of them come in at their best. Nobody’s at their best when they’re scared or sad, and having to wait and watch as other pets are triaged and brought back from exams. You still have your vet tech certification left over from before you went to school, so you know how to take vitals and do basic assessments, but your real job on every shift is to manage the owners. Some nights it’s easier than others.
Tonight isn’t one of those nights. In addition to half a dozen pets already in the exam rooms, there’s a couple and their two kids with their elderly cat, all four of whom look like they’re hanging by a thread. In the back corner, there are a couple of kids who rescued a tanuki that got hit by a car. They’re also hanging by a thread, and probably in need of a few preemptive vaccinations to boot. The guy with the monitor lizard is making everybody nervous. People keep filtering in and out, getting stat-triaged or sent to the waiting room, and with every person who gets called back, the guy your age with the corgi who’s been here for four hours loses his temper a little bit more.
You feel like you should check in with him, but one thing and another keeps you busy, and nobody points you his way until one of the dads from the cat family catches your attention. “Hey, not to bother you, I know you’re busy ��”
“How long have you been waiting?” you ask at once. “Has Snow White’s condition changed at all?”
“No, she’s about the same, but –” The blond man nods towards the bank of chairs across from his family. “Can you get a handle on that guy? He’s scaring my kids, and my husband’s this close to breaking his nose.”
You take a second look at Corner Guy – or Corgi Guy, if you go by the dog. Corner Guy is your age, skinny, with messy blue hair under an oversized hoodie. His clothes are old, but the blanket he’s wrapped the corgi in is new, and clean. With the dog bundled up that way, you can’t see what’s wrong, but it’s resting quietly in its owner’s arms. Every so often, it twists around to lick his face.
The dog is cute, but Corner Guy’s middle-distance death stare isn’t, and the blond man’s husband and kids are right in his eyeline. The least you can do is give him someone else to glare at. You make your way over and park yourself in the seat right across from him. “Hi. Have you been triaged yet?”
Corner Guy’s mouth, scarred at one corner, twists into a sneer. “What do you think?”
“How long has it been since somebody checked in with you?” you ask. You get a death stare all your own in response. “I’m sorry about the wait. If you tell me how long it’s been I might be able to hurry things along.”
“Checked in with me? I checked in. They took my money and told me to wait.” Corner Guy’s voice takes on a note of bitterness. “These people are idiots. I heard them, over there – their dog got hit by a car this morning and they’re just now coming in? Their dog gets to see the vet first because they were stupid and I wasn’t?”
You get this kind of thing a lot. You also get the sense that Corner Guy won’t appreciate being told how triage works. You deliberately turn your attention to the corgi in its blanket. “Who’s this?”
“Her name’s Mon.”
“Can I say hi?” you ask. Corner Guy nods, and you reach out to scratch Mon’s ears. She gives your hand a good sniff with a cold, wet nose before she lets you pet her, and as soon as you touch her, you can tell by the softness of her fur that she’s well cared-for. “What a sweetheart. How old is she?”
“Three.”
“Still a baby, huh?” You can’t help slipping into puppy voice. You got over being embarrassed about that a long time ago. “What brings you two in tonight?”
“At the stupid pet store. Some asshole ran her foot over with his cart, and she’s been crying –” Corner Guy’s eat-shit expression shifts into misery. “The cashier said to come here, so I did. And I’ve just been sitting here, and I know she’s in pain – and everybody and their cat gets to see the vet before Mon does.”
Now you get why the blond guy’s husband wants to break Corner Guy’s nose. “Can I see her paw? Which one is it?”
“Front one. On the right.” Corner Guy unwraps the blanket, careful not to jostle Mon, but she whimpers anyway. “Sorry. Sorry –”
“Okay, sweetie. Can I see your paw?” You forgot how short corgi legs are. There’s a risk that the cart got more than just her paw. “Oof, okay. That looks like it really hurts. How long ago did that happen?”
“Four hours.”
So he really did come straight here. “What happens if she tries to put weight on it?”
“She hasn’t,” Corner Guy says. “I picked her up when it happened, and, uh – I didn’t put her down again.”
“And you wrapped her up. That’s good,” you say. “If she hasn’t moved it around a lot, it’s a lot less likely to get displaced. How long ago did it stop bleeding?”
Corner Guy shrugs. The blanket has a decent-sized stain, but the stain looks like it’s drying. “Okay,” you say. “I’m going to go talk to the doctors and see if I can get one to come out and take a look at her. They might tell you it’s better to be treated by your regular vet, if you can get an appointment –”
“I made one for tomorrow,” Corner Guy says. “I wanted to see if she could get, like – dog Advil or something. I know she’s hurt even if she’s not crying.”
“Oh.” That’s a lot quicker than a cast and x-rays, and the vets on duty will be really happy to hear that Corner Guy has a vet appointment lined up already. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”
You confirm it with the front desk, then come back with the good news. “I can take her back right now and the vet will do a quick exam. Then they’ll do a splint and some painkillers, and that should get you through to tomorrow. Sound okay?”
Corner Guy hesitates. “You’re going to take her away?”
“It’s kind of busy back in the exam rooms, so we have the owners wait out here.”
“No,” Corner Guy says. “She’s my service dog. I have to come too.”
“Service dog?” You’ve never seen a service corgi before, but when Corner Guy folds back the blanket, you see that Mon’s wearing a vest, with a seal on it that you recognize. That organization trains service dogs specifically for PTSD. “Okay. Right. So maybe it’s best if you carry her.”
Corner Guy follows you through the packed waiting room and past the authorized personnel only doors. It occurs to you that you’ve forgotten something. “I got Mon’s name. What’s yours?”
“Shimura,” Corner Guy says. “Shimura Tenko.”
Shimura Tenko settles down a lot once you get him and Mon into an exam room. People usually calm down when their pet finally gets some medical attention, but Shimura looks like he’s doing more than just calming down – his face is pale and his hands are shaking, and Mon starts squirming in his arms, letting out little whines as she tries to reposition. She’s still at work, even though she’s hurt. You hesitate a second, then step in. “I can help turn her. Where’s she trying to go?”
He doesn’t answer, but you’ve seen service dogs from this organization before, and you know what they usually do to help their handlers. You help Mon rotate from sprawled in Shimura’s lap to a more upright position, and she lays her head on his chest, over his heart. It takes a few moments, but you see Tenko begin to relax.
“Are you two going to be okay in here for a second?” You don’t get a nod, but you also don’t get a no, and you duck out onto the treatment floor in search of one of the vets on call.
The first vet you encounter is Dr. Fukukado, which is what you were hoping for. She’s got the best bedside manner. You wait for her to sign the discharge paperwork on the parakeets she was treating, the make your case. “I have a patient in Exam 10. Her paw got run over by a shopping cart and it looks pretty bad.”
“Poor thing.” Dr. Fukukado’s mouth turns down at the corners. “That would be a stat if we weren’t so busy –”
“She’s a service dog,” you interrupt as politely as possible. “From New Horizons.”
“PTSD. How’s her handler doing?”
“Not great,” you say. You feel confident in that one. “They were waiting for a while. I thought he was just being a jerk, but once I brought them back here he sort of –”
Collapsed is probably too strong, but you’re too tired to come up with the clinical terminology. Sometimes after a night at the emergency vet, you forget that you even have a day job, let alone that it’s as a social worker. “Okay. Here’s what we’ll do,” Dr. Fukukado says. “I’ll add my name to his case and get in there as quickly as possible. In the meantime, you stick with them. Try to keep them both calm. Triage should be thinning out soon.”
Hopefully. It’s two am. You stick around long enough for Dr. Fukukado to add her name to the chart, then head back to Exam 10. Mon and Shimura haven’t moved. “Hi,” you say. “I’ve got some good news. The doctor’s put her name on Mon’s chart, so she’s next in line. Is there anything I can do to help in the meantime?”
Shimura Tenko doesn’t answer. You notice that his lips are really dry. “I can get water if you want it, or something else to drink. We have a coffee machine, so there’s tea, coffee, mochas, cappuccinos, hot chocolate –”
“That.”
Okay. He’s talking. “Gotcha. One hot chocolate, coming right up.”
You pick your way through the waiting room, checking on a few new patients in the mean time. You stop by the family with the cat to make sure they’re all right, cast a wary eye at the guy with the lizard, quickly triage a pair of kittens someone brought it, and grab Tenko’s hot chocolate. You’ve hit first-name terms with him in your head. That’s – not normal.
When you get back to the exam room, Tenko looks like he’s doing a little better. More color in his face, at least. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”
“No, I just got a bit held up.” You hand over the hot chocolate and watch him take a sip. His hands aren’t shaking as badly as before. “How are you two doing?”
“Her foot’s still messed up.” Tenko takes another sip. “It’s my fault.”
“It can feel like that sometimes, but I bet it wasn’t,” you say. “Somebody ran her foot over. That wasn’t you.”
“I shouldn’t have put her down.” Tenko’s voice flattens. “I know I carry her too much. She wants to walk. I thought she might want to walk around in there. If I hadn’t put her down she wouldn’t have gotten hurt, so it’s my fault.”
“Letting your dog walk around is a reasonable thing to do,” you counter. “Not looking where you’re going and hitting somebody else’s dog with your cart isn’t. That person’s the problem, not you.”
“I’ve only had her for two months,” Tenko says. His voice pulls tight. “They’re going to take her away.”
“We see service dogs in here a lot,” you say. “Nobody comes to take them away. Everybody knows accidents happen. This was definitely an accident.”
Tenko doesn’t answer. He takes a few sips of hot chocolate, and Mon picks her head up to snuffle the cup. “Hey. No. That’s bad for you.” Mon gives the bottom of the cup an exploratory lick. “We have treats at home. If I let you have this she’ll think I’m a moron.”
“I’d have a hard time saying no to her,” you say. You sit down one chair away from him. “If you hadn’t told me you got her two months ago, I never would have guessed. You guys seem really bonded already.”
“Yeah.” Tenko adjusts his grip on her. He’s quieter when he speaks again. “I feel like shit right now. She knows to work when I get upset, but I don’t want her to get upset and worry about me when she’s hurt. So then I get upset because I’m making her work, and – yeah.”
“She’ll feel better if you let her help you,” you say. You’re confident in that one. “My dog does, anyway.”
“You have a service dog? Where is it?”
“She’s a therapy dog,” you say. Tenko gives you a suspicious look. “Not an ESA. She and I did a bunch of extra training and I take her on visits to places – hospitals, schools, libraries, that kind of thing. When we’re not on visits, she’s a pet. An incredibly spoiled pet.”
“Do you have a picture?”
People with sick pets don’t usually ask about your pet. Then again, you don’t usually tell people with sick pets that you’ve got one, too. “Yeah. Um, here. That’s her.”
Tenko glances at your phone, and to your shock, he cracks a smile. “People must go crazy for her on visits. There was a golden in team training when I went through. Everybody wanted him but me.”
You should keep Tenko talking anyway – it’s best practice – but you also really want to know. “How does it work, getting matched with a dog? Do they let you pick?”
Tenko shakes his head. “You work with a bunch of different dogs in the first week. They’re all trained like Mon is. The trainers want to see which one you click with. Mon was the third one I worked with.”
“And you got along right away?”
“She kept getting in trouble.” There’s a note of pride in Tenko’s voice, and it only takes you a moment to understand why. “Even when she was working with other people, she kept pulling to get back to me.”
“She picked you out,” you say, and Tenko nods. He’s smiling slightly again. “I can tell you guys have something really special. And that you take really good care of her.”
Mon finally quits trying to get into the hot chocolate and settles back with her head against Tenko’s chest. Tenko glances at you. “What do you do here, anyway? I’ve been watching you run around all night and I still can’t figure it out.”
“I’m a patient support specialist,” you explain. “I can do triage, but mainly I try to help people get through pet emergencies in one piece. It gets kind of hard in here.”
“Whatever they pay you, it’s not enough.”
“I don’t get paid,” you say. “I volunteer.”
Tenko looks surprised. “You do this for free?”
Before you can answer, someone bangs on the door. You jump, but it startles Tenko enough that he spills some hot chocolate on his hand, which Mon promptly slurps up. You open the door, ready to give hell to whoever spooked them both. “Hey, can you keep it down?”
“Sorry. Fukukado said you were in here, and –” Tamaki leans against the doorframe, breathing hard. “You know the monitor lizard? It’s, uh – not.”
“What is it, then?”
“We don’t really know,” Tamaki says. “But it got out.”
Oh. “Anybody who’s not with a patient has to go help,” Tamaki says. “Like now.”
You are with a patient. You glance at Tenko, who looks ever so slightly entertained. “Me and Mon aren’t going anywhere,” he says. “Go get your lizard.”
You get to your feet. “Sit tight. I’ll be back soon.”
You aren’t back soon. You’re back an hour later, bruised and tired, your hand wrapped in an ice pack and an ace bandage. You make the mistake of knocking on the door to Exam 10 with it, and you get a shock when Tenko opens the door rather than just hollering for you to come in. He’s not carrying Mon, and you ask where he is at the same moment as he asks you a question of his own. “What happened to you?”
“Is Mon okay?”
“They brought her a bed and some pain stuff.” Tenko opens the door to show you, and you spot Mon on the exam table in a dog bed, swaddled in a blanket and so doped up on painkillers that she can barely keep her eyes open. “They’re gonna do x-rays later. Did you get the lizard?”
“It got me,” you say. Tenko’s eyes widen as he studies your bandaged hand. “And it wasn’t a lizard.”
“What was it, then – a dragon?”
“A Komodo dragon,” you say. “But close.”
“Aren’t those things supposed to be giant?” Tenko says. “How did that guy fit it in that box?”
“This one was a juvenile. Is a juvenile. We didn’t hurt it or anything.” You don’t think any of you were capable of hurting it. It was running circles around you. “It’s still really big. And fast.’
“And it took you guys an hour to catch it,” Tenko muses. “I was wondering what all the yelling was about.”
You and the others were really trying to keep the yelling to a minimum. You wince. “We had to find it first, and once we did, we had to catch it – but it was really aggressive, so it started biting, and then it got away again. Rinse and repeat about ten times.”
Tenko snickers. “I wish I could have seen it. More of it than I did, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“I cracked the door open. Some guy was chasing it down the hall,” Tenko says. “It was pretty funny when it started chasing him back the other way.”
Dr. Sorahiko is the oldest vet in the ER, and he’s gotten kind of mean in his old age. You don’t feel bad for laughing. “You’re probably going to see the rest of it on TikTok or something. Or on the news. They showed up when Animal Control did.”
“Does that kind of thing happen a lot around here?”
“No,” you say. “Usually when we have a wild night, it’s a different kind of wild.”
“So no bites from a giant lizard,” Tenko says. You shake your head. “You and Mon match now. Maybe we can get two x-rays for the price of one.”
You smile at the thought, then remember something the front desk told you to pass along. “They’re discounting services for everybody tonight, because of the – disruption. Even if Mon gets x-rays and a splint and everything, you’ll probably only get charged the exam fee.”
“Good.” Tenko looks relieved. “Mon gets whatever she needs, when she needs it, but I was gonna be eating instant ramen for a month so I could make rent.”
“A lot of people who bring their pets in here say stuff like that.” You prop your bitten hand against your shoulder to elevate it. The bite didn’t break the skin, but it still hurts a lot. “That’s part of why I like being here. People are awful in outpatient.”
“They’re awful here, too. I sucked.”
“You weren’t even close to the worst person I’ve talked to,” you say. You remember a guy whose dog needed a leg amputation telling you he’d break your neck if she died on the operating table. He got kicked out, but the vets still operated on his dog, and as far as you know, she made a full recovery. “But people here — they aren’t being assholes just because they can. They’re really worried about their animals, because they care about them so much, and I’ve never seen somebody handle that well without help. If I ever have to bring my dog in here, I’ll be a wreck just like everyone else.”
“Worse than everybody else,” Tenko says. You glance at him, puzzled. “You’re not going to have a you around to help out.”
“Yeah,” you say. The thought is weirdly dispiriting. Not only will you be in here with no patient outreach specialist, you’re going to be in here all alone. Your family lives in a different prefecture, most of your friends have their own lives to deal with, and it’s not like you have a partner who could come with you. You haven’t gone on a date in a long time. “It’s going to suck.”
“If it ever happens, me and Mon will hang out with you,” Tenko says, and you nearly fall out of your chair. “She helps me. She won’t mind helping you, too.”
Before you can even think about addressing that, there’s a quick knock on the door, and Dr. Fukukado steps in. “Hey, sorry about the wait,” she says earnestly. “Mini-Godzilla was zipping around out here and he was tough to catch. We’ve got it under control, obviously, but — hey, you need to go home. Everybody who got hurt has to clock out.”
“I’m a volunteer. I don’t have to do anything,” you say. “I can stick around as long as I need to.”
You’ve put the ball back in Tenko’s court, which you feel is the patient-centered thing to do, especially when you’re technically still on shift. But patient-centered or not, you don’t want to leave just yet. You’ve gotten a little protective over these two, and by the time you go home and hug your own dog, you want to know that Tenko and his dog are going to be okay.
“Stick around,” Tenko says after a moment, and your heart lifts in a way it really shouldn’t. “Somebody needs to replace Mon when she goes for her x-rays.”
He wants you to be his service dog? “Sure, but I’m not going to lick your face.”
Tenko laughs at that – actually laughs – and the lightness in your chest grows a little harder to ignore. You like making people feel better, and you like it more than you should that he wants you around a little while longer. It’s not often that you have a night like this one at work. The Komodo dragon bite is going to be the better story, the kind you’ll tell your friends about, or your parents the next time you call home. But hanging out with Tenko Shimura and Mon for the rest of your shift is what you’re going to remember.
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haikyu-mp4 · 3 months ago
Text
The Guess Monster legacy
Your son wants to play volleyball, like his stepdad Tendo, for my Parenting event<3
requested by @sharkissm. word count; 504 – gn!reader
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There was only one week left until your son was going back to school when he announced:
“I want to play volleyball.”
He looked surprised when you and Satori gasped simultaneously and turned to him. Satori was already tearing up, thinking of the summer he had spent getting to know his stepson even more after moving in with you two.
Satori could be a lot, so he did his best to tone it down while your son got used to having an extra person in the household. Even if they got along well before the wedding, he didn’t want the kid to think he was trying too hard to be a father figure to him just because they lived together now.
However, he found one thing to bond over: Passing a volleyball in the yard. Obviously, a volleyball lay amongst the things Satori brought when he moved in, and it awakened a curiosity in the active young boy. Spending time together like this gave Satori the opportunity to teach him some technique, while also giving them time alone to talk.
You would typically be off doing something else when this happened, lending your two favourite people some guy time.
Halfway through the summer vacation, they got to the point where a cheap net was put up in the yard, and Satori started giving some pointers on blocking.
So now, as your son expressed that this shared time had indeed left its trace on him, Satori couldn’t contain himself when he abandoned the laundry he was folding with you to squeeze your son in a hug.
They immediately started researching places that offered training after school, which then led to seeing which middle school he should pick for next year. You’d watch them sit huddled together, Satori’s excitement equal to his stepson’s, and nothing could have made you happier.
Few parents would attend volleyball games, but you and Satori came to as many as possible. Sometimes, you had no choice but to stay late at work instead, but Tendo would be just as insistent on coming to watch his stepson.
Let’s just say there’s a new Guess Monster around and he’s wearing that same purple uniform, because you learnt a few years later that your dear husband started saving up the very same day your son told him he wanted to play volleyball, so that he would have the option of going to any school he wanted when the time came.
In his first high school game, someone on the team asked your son who that red-haired guy singing in the bleachers was. “That’s my stepdad. He was a starting player, and middle blocker for Ushijima when they went here. They’re best friends,” he answered with pride, and you had to hand Satori the napkins much earlier than expected to dry his tears.
His stepson isn’t embarrassed of him at all. That little weirdo on the court who sang teasing songs for his opponents was happy to be a Tendo, carrying on his stepdad’s legacy.
masterlist
for the requester: this was one of my favourite requests for this event, I hope I did it justice<3 thank you for participating!
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glitterjay · 10 months ago
Note
dom hee with naive reader and he loves her sensitivity
⭒ naive reader, dom overprotective heeseung, virgin kink, overstimulation, friends to lovers type of thing, jealousy (kinda), suggestive content under cut, mdni
⭒ c's note: i hope this is good enough ^^ | mlist!
⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin
heeseung's blood was boiling. the guy that was talking to you in front of HIS locker was obviously trying to get to you. the way his eyes looked you up and down, how he licked his lips every time he looked at the shorts you were wearing, his hand trying to reach yours.
heeseung's locker was the checkpoint after school where you two would meet to hang out after classes. sometimes it was with heeseung's friends, sometimes it was you two alone. he walked with a steady pace, his jaw clenching.
his gaze softened for a second when you acknowledged his presence, only to go back to a dark look towards the man in front of you. "hey, heeseung!" you greeted with a soft smile. "hello, love." he replied back.
you and heeseung were often mistaken as a couple due to all the skinship and nicknames you had with each other, but in reality, you both were childhood friends.
"it would be nice if my locker wasn't filled with annoying people."
the man ignored heeseung's words, still trying to reach your hand. "so, are you free later tonight?" your best friend scoffed, not letting you reply for yourself. "i said, it would be nice if my locker wasn't filled with annoying people. and no, she's not free. she has plans with me."
you gave the boy an apologetic look before waving him goodbye, turning to heeseung. his muscles were tense, and his jaw was still clenching as he watched the dude walk away. you laid a hand on his strong arm, trying to soothe him. "is everything okay?"
heeseung relaxed his body, sighing and pulling you into a hug. "he was all over you. did you not notice?" you face was buried in his chest. you shook your head, taking in the scent of the cologne he was wearing. "he was eating you with his eyes. it made my blood boil."
heeseung was always overprotective when it came to you and other men who weren't him or his friends. it made you slowly fall in love with him. he treated you just the right way, but you were afraid he didn't feel the same. it is a hard world for women, after all. maybe he's just being cautious.
-
some time passed, and you were both at his house for a sleepover. heeseung didn't like the idea of leaving you alone after the man hit you up in the middle of the day. he offered to walk you to your classes, even if it meant being late to his own.
everything went smoothly. you both baked some cookies and even played some games together. it was starting to get dark outside, and you decided it was a good idea to watch a movie.
heeseung was setting up the living room while you were in his bedroom bathroom, changing into something comfy. you had brought an oversized shirt you bought a while back along some shorts.
you walked out into the living room again, seeing your best friend laying on the pile of blankets that were on the floor. heeseung invited you to sit between his legs to cuddle, and you gladly took the spot.
-
half of the movie had gone by by now, and you were deeply into the plot. you were way too concentrated trying to figure out what would happen to notice heeseung shifting behind you. having your almost bare ass grinding against his crotch every time you got excited got him painfully hard.
without looking away from the tv, you put your hand behind you, trying to reposition yourself in your best friend's arms only to be greeted by something that was rock solid.
heeseung let out a whimper, biting the back of his hand as he threw his head back. you looked down to where your hand laid, noticing it was his dick you were touching. "oh my god! heeseung, im so sorry!"
you apologized, getting up and standing in front of him. his posture and the way he was breathing so hard made you get a weird feeling in your tummy. "it's okay, princess."
"i- did i do that?" you asked, pointing at his hard on. heeseung chuckled, "yeah, kind of." your face flushed bright red, looking away from him for a second. you sat back down, this time facing him. heeseung only smiled.
"does it hurt?" you asked again. you knew such things happened to men, but you couldn't help asking such stupid questions. "it does, pretty."
"is there a way i could help you feel better?"
his head shot up, using his elbows as support to look at you straight in the eyes. he was trying to look for some kind of hesitation, but all his eyes could see was your face staring down at his crotch, biting your lips.
"there is a way," he said, "but you have to trust me."
-
it took him five minutes to have you laying in his bedroom bed. you had decided to keep the oversized t-shirt on to which heeseung agreed. the least he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.
he knew you were a virging, and that just added to the amount of horniness he was feeling at that moment. he positioned himself right between your legs and aligned his tip with your hole. "this is going to hurt, but i'll go as slow as i can, mkay?" you nodded, shutting your eyes closed.
"let me know if it gets too much."
he started going in slowly, stopping for a minute so you could adjust to his size. your mouth hung open, tiny gasps leaving you as he moved. your eyes couldn't stay shut, they were wide open staring at where yours and heeseung's body connected.
him, on the other hand, was fighting the urge to ram into you with no mercy. the way your pussy swallowed him, so tight and warm was driving him insane. once he was all the way in, he stayed there for a minute without moving at all.
" 'm gonna start moving."
heeseung started thrusting slowly, grunting and groaning at how tight you were. you held onto his srtong arms for dear life, gasping for air every time he moved. "h-hee, there's a strange feeling in my tummy."
heeseung's pace started picking up. "let it go, princess. don't hold it in."
your eyes rolled to the back of your head, screaming loudly as you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. the feeling of your warm juicies added to heeseung's pleasure. he was bearing his own climax, holding your hips tightly as he kept fucking you.
the pleasure started turning into pain on your side, the sensation being too much for your (no longer) virgin self to take. you tried kicking and pushing him away, but it was no use. he was stronger.
"so sensitive and so fucking mine."
with one last thrust, heeseung pulled out and cummed right on your tummy. your body was shaking hard, reaching yet another orgasm.
"you did so good for me, love. so perfect."
he kissed your temple, grabbing his shirt from the floor to clean you up. "what does this make us?" you asked between breaths. "boyfriend and girlfriend," heeseung replied. "don't worry, i'll ask you again properly, but let's enjoy this moment for now."
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© glitterjay | tumblr
note: feel free to send your own req through ask!
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darling-i-read-it · 1 year ago
Text
Burns
Charlie Swan x fem!reader, Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader 
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: age gap (for both men, both are legal but carlisle is like 223297493 years old so do with that what you’d like lol), burns (second and first degree), doctors office, me knowing too much about twilight 
Author’s Note: IM WRITING A PART 2 RN BUT WANTED TO SEE IF YOU GUYS LIKED THIS <3 I literally randomly had a burst of inspo to write this and i lowkey love it…
Summary: You’re a waitress at the local diner to pay off tuition in the summer. You have a small crush on the chief of police who comes in to get his coffee from you. You thought that was all it was until you met the resident doctor when you have a mishap and now you’re stuck between two incredibly charming men that both have a little crush on you. 
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
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Forks, Washington was under a near constant cover of rain. You were aware of it when you woke up in the morning, prepared to see the dreary weather that greeted you through the window. You could smell the rain on the pavement before it came, see it in the clouds as they hovered above. You were always prepared for it, always ready for it. 
Today, the sun was out. Summer usually calls for something more temperate. You found that those days weren’t necessarily unwelcome, but never your favorite. Everyone went outside when it was sunny. You could see people you hadn’t seen in ages. You never made an effort to see them in the first place for a reason. There was an uncharacteristic amount of skin showing. It may only be mid 70s but everyone suddenly acted like the ocean water was a relief to their burning skin. 
You sweat easily, especially in the diner. The Lodge had little to no air conditioning and the sun brought people in droves. Everyone wanted a bite to eat. They all remembered the diner had milkshakes. It was never a great mix for a waitress. 
You turned the corner on your heel, giving a quaint smile to Cora, your coworker. She looked like she was going to melt away. 
“Do you think anyones gonna leave early today?” she asked quietly behind the counter. You shook your head. She had the coffee pot in her hand and was holding it tightly so it didn’t spill. You looked around the packed diner, laughter bubbling from sections where it normally was silent. You shook your head, giving her a sad look. 
“We’re in for one.” 
“I should’ve called out,” she muttered. “You should’ve called out. This place needs us.” You shook your head. 
“You’ve gotta put food on the table,” you reminded her. She had a kid who was going into middle school. You had met her when Cora brought her in, her headphones stuck in her ears and reading some trashy teen novel. 
“Always the voice of reason,” she muttered. “Plus, you gotta pay tuition.” 
“Don’t remind me.” 
You were going to college in Seattle but always worked the summers back in Forks. You loved the little town despite its insanity. You found that most of it was quiet, even on louder days. Plus, it was always easy to find a job back home. You were practically shoved the waitress apron when you returned this summer. You had been doing it since you graduated high school, always trying to find something to keep yourself occupied. You were coming upon your senior year in college and the extra money helped immensely. 
“Hey, your boyfriends here,” Cora teased. She pushed herself off the counter to refill someone’s coffee cup. You furrowed your brows in confusion even though you knew exactly who she meant. 
You watched as chief of police Charlie Swan walked through the doors with a clink of the bell above his head. He met your eyes and gave you an awkward half wave, which you returned slightly more enthusiastically. He walked up to the counter, squeezing between the people sitting there. Someone said hello to him and he gave them a nod in acknowledgment. 
“You guys are busy today huh?” he questioned, scoffing. 
“Just a bit,” you admitted. His presence never ceased to bring butterflies to your stomach. Maybe you were harboring a small/not so small crush on the sheriff but you tried your best not to show it. You assured Cora it was just something silly for you to feel as you passed through your work day. Still, her eyes lingered on yours as she went around the counter to greet someone else because she knew you were busy. “It’s the sun.” 
“Brings out all the loonies,” he said. 
“I imagine you’re busy out there too.” He was always scanning around to make sure no one was doing anything wrong. His eyes flicked from you to the people beside him, then back to you. 
“Taking my 15.” 
“Just to see lil ol me?” you teased. Even as the words left your mouth you felt self conscious of them. This time though, he gave a half smile. 
“You make the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he promised. You tried not to get flustered. 
“Well, it looks like you need a double today, Sheriff.” 
“Charlie, how many times do I have to tell you?” You rolled your eyes. He leaned against the diner counter even though there were no seats. You turned around, every other table lost in your mind. Cora would help you out until he left.
“Well Charlie, it might be too hot for a hot coffee. You could’ve gone to one of those fancy coffee shops,” you offered, grabbing a coffee pot. 
“Yeah, can you imagine me ordering there? I have a hard enough time with you.” 
“I think I get what you mean by now,” you joked. You poured him a cup and grabbed three sugars and two creams. “Anything else?” 
“You always this quick with your service?” he questioned, looking at the people down the line who hadn’t gotten their food. 
“I’m just the coffee girl with a pretty smile. I don’t control the food orders.” You handed him a stirring stick as he opened his sugar packets. “Plus, you’re the chief of police Charlie. I don’t wanna get arrested.” He chuckled, a real genuine laugh. 
“I think I’ll let you off for this one.” You smiled at your success. The laugh was guaranteed to be the highlight of your shift. 
“Thanks Charlie.” You turned back to the kitchen which was starting to call things out. “Anything else?”
“No ma’am.” He grabbed some cash out of his wallet. “Keep the change.” 
“You’re my favorite customer Charlie,” you joked at his more than generous tip of 100%. He did a little salute with his finger and raised the cup to you. 
“Go do your job otherwise you’re bound to get more angry customers than I am.” 
You nodded once and bowed out of the conversation gracefully. You grabbed the food from behind you and started to bring it out. Cora gave you a look as you passed her, the smile plastered on your face a clear tell of your conversation. 
“Peach cobbler,” you said to one of your regulars. She was a small old lady who always came in on Saturdays, at exactly the same time. You enjoyed talking with her and catching up on her life. She got the same thing each time and the consistency was something you appreciated. “Sorry it’s been slower today Miss. Heidi. The heat has the whole of Forks out!” She shook her head, brushing you off. 
“No worries at all,” she assured you. “It’s not like I’m not gonna come back.” You shared in her shaky laughter. She picked up her fork just as you were about to leave and pointed it at Charlie. “You making heart eyes at the chief over there sweetheart?” You flushed immediately. Maybe you weren’t so great at hiding it. 
“Maybe. But keep your mouth shut Heidi,” you whispered with a smile. She chuckled. Her eyes lingered on Charlie who was finishing his coffee already. He had started a conversation with the man beside him. Charlie seemed to know everyone in town. 
“Aren’t you a little young for him?” You rolled your eyes. 
“It’s perfectly constenting and legal,” you assured her. “I’m plenty older than his daughter if that’s what you’re gonna say.” 
“I was gonna mention.” Her eyes wrinkled at the edges, shaking her head. Her movements didn’t feel like she was disagreeing with you. More so that she was gossiping with a friend, just girls being girls. “He had his heart broken by her mother, you know. He’s a good man.” 
“Is that your consent Heidi? Because I don’t even know if he feels the same way.” Your voice was lighthearted. She grabbed your hand, her saggy skin feeling comforting. 
“I wouldn’t worry too much sweetheart.” You scrunched your face a little and shook off her words. You were still on the clock. 
“Enjoy your peach cobbler Heidi.” 
-
You brushed your hair out of your face. The sun had finally subsided for the evening, giving way for the clouds. You embraced their presence, appreciating the way that the cool air felt on your overworked skin. Cora was still hanging around after her shift, waiting for her husband to come pick her up. You sat on the back steps of The Lodge, watching the trees sway. 
“The air feels so crisp,” you muttered. 
“You say the weirdest things,” she grumbled, laughing. She was leaning against the building. “It’s the trees.” 
“I know.” You were going to leave right after work and finally drive back home but you needed a moment to sit and enjoy the day. It had been a long shift. Cora and you were officially trauma bonded. 
“How was the chief?” 
“Good,” you promised. “Sweet.”
“A guy can be sweet and catch criminals?” 
“He’s assertive,” you argued. When Cora laughed she did it with her whole chest. 
“Honey, you’re down bad.” You rolled your eyes and stood up. Cora’s eyes followed you as you did so, turning back to the door inside the diner. “You’re goin back into that hellhole?” 
“Forgot my phone,” you said. “Also, I am not. It’s a work crush. I’m entitled to one! Just like you like the produce guy!” 
“I do not like the produce guy. I think he’s hot. Big difference!” You rolled your eyes as you opened the door back inside. The heat hit you again, unpleasantly. You had to weave through the cooks to get back to the front. You couldn’t remember when you had put your phone down. You were making a phone call during your break. Maybe you had left it on hte steps outside after all? 
“Hey Jerry?!” you called to the cook in the back.
“What?!” 
“You seen my phone?” 
“No! All I’ve seen are burgers!” You rolled your eyes harder this time and dipped underneath the counter to see if you had put it with the sugars and stuff. You let out an annoyed groan when it wasn’t there. 
You turned too quick and ran right into the closing waitress. She was holding a hot pot of coffee and effectively spilled it all over you. You gasped involuntarily, the feeling of scorching coffee seeping through your clothes. The gasp turned into a seethe as you packed up. You could hear her speaking, the high pitched, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” reverberating off your eardrums. You had dropped coffee on yourself before. All you could think of was that you needed a towel and some cold water. 
You turned on a dime and walked back to the kitchen. You turned on the sink back there and fumbled your hand around for a towel to use. 
“Jerry, towel,” you mumbled, the burning skin now setting into a tingle. He turned his head around and saw you. He started to fumble around. You walked in front of him to grab the towel and just barely lost your balance, causing your hand to fly up onto the table. 
Right onto the stove. 
This time you yelped. The coffee was already forgotten as there was now more of an issue at hand. 
“Woah dollface!” Jerry exclaimed. He grabbed your wrist because you were just staring at your red hand. You had put your entire palm down. You looked up at him, tears staining your eyes from pain, and he brought you over to the sink. 
“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he put it under the cold water. It didn’t subside any pain, just added another sensation. “Jerry that hurts!” 
“Hey Y/N, I have your phone in my apron.” Cora came through the door to witness you breathing heavily next to the sink, Jerry the cook practically holding you down. 
“She burned her hand on the stove,” he explained. 
“She spilled coffee on me,” you blubbered childishly. You could feel all your body parts at once, like you were on fire. You had no brain power to say anything else. 
“Oh Jesus,” Cora muttered. She rushed forward, grabbing your wrist to look at it. “You gotta get this checked out honey.” You gave her a somber looking face. “I know, I know. I’ll take you. Where’s your car keys?” You reached in your apron with your non burnt hand. It was soaking wet from the coffee. 
“Is she okay?” the waitress asked, sticking her head through the window. 
“She burned her hand on the stove,” Jerry said. 
“She what?!” 
Cora put her hand on your back, leading you out the door. You took deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You were fine. You were gonna be fine. 
“I’ll be okay,” you whispered. “You have to g-”
“I’ll have Steven do it,” she said. Her husband. You gave her a look of pure thankfulness as she helped you into the passenger seat of her car. 
“I really don’t have to go to the hospital over this,” you tried to say. 
“I know you don’t. But I think it’s safer than waiting.” You put your head against your headrest. 
-
Cora dragged you by your free arm to the front desk. She was the one who gave your name and your information as you stood beside her, holding your hand. You looked like a mess, given the coffee all over you. You were sure this could all just be fixed by some water and ointment from the store but Cora insisted. 
She rambled on about how a family member hadn’t gone in for a burn and it ended up being more severe then they thought, damaging below the skin. Her words were not comforting. 
Eventually they called you back to be looked at. You sat on an exam table with a thin paper on top. A nurse had come in to check on you and give you something for your hand while you waited for the doctor. 
You were in a row of beds. Cora pulled the curtains aside to give you privacy. 
“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you said. 
“They don't get to know all your business. HIPAA or whatever.” You squinted. 
“I don’t think-” 
“Ladies.” Carlisle Cullen stepped through the curtain at the open side. He was holding a clipboard, a charming smile plastered on his face. Your breath hitched at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. “Y/N, I hear you burned your hand.” You nodded. 
“And her chest,” Cora muttered. She must have noticed Carlisle’s looks as well. Or maybe she just noticed your reaction to him. You cleared your throat. 
“I had coffee spilled on me.” 
“No, you should check it out. It’s bad.” You gave a look. Carlisle’s smile remained, shaking his head. You had heard of him but never had a reason to come out and see him. You wouldn’t even call this a valid reason. 
“Sounds like an awful case of bad luck.” You nodded. “Can I take a look?” He sat on a spinny chair and pulled it towards you. You extended your hand to him. 
“I’m gonna go call Steven,” she said to you. You nodded. She patted your back, her eyes lingering on your doctor even as she left. Carlisle held your hand in his, gently looking it over. You looked down at him. 
“A stove did this?” 
“Yeah. It was dumb,” you promised. “I lost my balance looking for a rag for the coffee burn.” 
“And that’s okay?” You nodded. 
“I think. I mean, my hand feels way worse,” you assured him. 
“Your friend seems to think otherwise.” 
“Cora’s dramatic by nature.” He laughed gently. 
“Well the stove fought back.” He wheeled backwards towards the table beside your bed. “It looks like second degree burns on your hand. I’ll send you home with some ointment for it and you’ll wanna wrap it up so that you don’t get it caught on your clothes or anything.” You nodded. “I’ll wrap it for you first, show you how to do it.” 
“Thank you.” 
“Of course.” He stood up and fumbled in the desks drawer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check on the coffee burns?” He glanced back at you. You looked down at your shirt. It had mostly gotten your stomach. You could still feel pain there, probably driven by the fact you never got to clean it off. 
“If you think it’ll help?”
“Stomach burns are interesting just because of their placement. It’s harder to wrap them. I think it would be beneficial for me to make sure they’re only first degree, if anything.” You nodded. You would listen to him read the phone book. 
“Okay.” He walked back over. Before even touching your shirt he made eye contact with you. 
“Only if you’re comfortable. I can wait till your friend comes back if you want me to.” You shook your head. 
“I’m okay!” you promised. You cleared your throat and grabbed the hem of your shirt. You carefully lifted it up over your torso, holding it just above the wet spot. Carlisle’s eyes went down to your body. 
“You said the hand hurt more?”
“By far.” 
“Can I touch you?” Please. You cleared your throat again. 
“Sure.” He put an icy hand on your hip, lightly brushing your burn with his thumb. 
“How much does that hurt? Scale one to ten?” 
“Five.” He applied more pressure. 
“Now?” 
“Seven. Your hands are really cold, which could be worsening the effects,” you joked. He chuckled, his lips turning up a bit. 
“Sorry about that.” He backed up a bit. You put your shirt back down. “Those are first degree burns. It only hit in some spots. Should feel numb or touchy for a couple days. You can put the ointment there too but you shouldn’t have to wrap it up.”
“The hand needs it.”
“The hand needs it,” he agreed. He had put some stuff on the counter, which he now took in his hands. He squeezed something out a bottle and put a bit of it on his finger, taking your hand back in his. “Let me know if the pressure is too much.” 
You watched him, your free hands fingers curled under the bed you were sitting on. He gently covered your hand, using such a light touch that it was like he was barely there. 
“You’re good at this.” 
“It’s my job,” he said, smiling. “Are you from out of town? I don’t think I’ve had you in here before.” 
“Just lucky,” you quipped. “I go to college in Seattle too so I’m usually out there.” He nodded slowly. 
“Fancy.”
“The drive back is beautiful.” He nodded slowly. His hand lingered on yours as he examined his work. “So is this town.” 
“Do you work at the diner?”
“Yeah! That’s where I got this beauty.” He scooted back, grabbing the bandages.
“I think my son’s seen you there. He’s graduating high school in a year and likes his seclusion,” he explained. 
“Son?” you asked. 
“Edward.” 
“No, I’m just stunned you have a child. You look far too young,” you said, laughing incredibly. He grinned sheepishly. You tried not to think of him being married or the lack of ring on his finger. 
“He’s technically my foster son,” he described. 
“I see. Do you do it all on your own?” You winced. That was aggressive. “I don’t mean to pry.” “It’s alright,” he said, shaking his head, completely cool. “Yes, they’re all under my care. I haven’t found the right one quite yet. Plus, she’d have to take on more than a couple stragglers with me.” His eyes flicked up to yours. They met for a moment longer than they should have. You had to look away. 
“Sounds like a task.” 
“It’s definitely not for everyone.” He tightened your bandage. “There. I’ll send you home with some of this, it’ll be sent to wherever you get your prescriptions.” He stepped back from you. “Try to be careful around stoves next time.”
“Yes sir.” He gave you one more look, a kind hearted smile and then was on his way. You followed him until he was gone out of view. You were glad he hadn’t checked your pulse because you were sure it was beating out of your chest. Cora came around the corner. 
“He’s too old for you too,” she said. You laughed dryly, shaking your head. You could practically still feel his touch on your hand. So gentle. 
“You’ll learn to get used to it,” you teased her. She rolled her eyes. “Were you waiting out there the whole time?” 
“Wanted to give you and Doctor Dreamy some alone time.” 
“You’re such a wingwoman!” 
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the Sheriff.” 
Part 2
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tatoda · 1 year ago
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You v’s Me || conrad fisher x fem!reader
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!!MINORS DNI!!
request
masterlist
summary: you’ve always been in a competition with conrad which grew both of you to hate each other…or maybe it’s love?
pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader
warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT towards the end but it’s not much, fem receiving, conrad being cocky and hot duh CHARACTERS ARE 18
wc: 1.8k
susannah is not sick in this fic! hope y’all enjoy :)
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Ever since you were kids, you and conrad have had competitions every summer. It’s something that was never forgotten and the person who won got bragging rights the whole year until it was summer again. The tradition started when you were 10 and conrad was 11. It started sweet when your families visited the boardwalk but soon enough conrad was the competitive side to you, and he knew he needed to beat you in any game or challenge.
You both were now 18 and 19. You were starting your first year of college and conrad was going into his second year. He bragged in your face for getting into your dream college Brown last year and now this year, you get to brag and tell him you got into pre-med early for Brown during early admissions back in november but couldn’t tell him so you had to wait to see his reaction at dinner.
Everyone saw it but you and conrad. The whole family could see the tension between the two of you guys and your competition. It was declared that conrad had a crush on you the second year you visited cousins, laurel was the first to point it out to susannah, and then the whole family knew by the end of the summer but you and conrad didn’t believe any of it. But you wouldn’t lie, you had a crush on him and were just hoping to hate him to get rid of the schoolgirl crush.
“so y/n,” susannah began “what was the big news you wanted to share with everyone?”
“oh yes.” and put your fork down “i got into Brown pre-med.” you smiled and conrad’s fork froze with his mouth open and all you did was smirk at him “actually susannah, i got in early admissions in november. i’ve just been saving the news up for this very moment.” you gave conrad a tight-lipped smile
“that’s amazing news!” she cheered “we should celebrate with a late movie tonight!”
“a-actually we were gonna head to the country club, they are playing all the avengers movies in order,” jeremiah spoke up stopping his mom from getting too excited
“of course! we can do something tomorrow night.” she gasped “oh gosh connie, that means y/n will be going to school with you!”
“yep.” he moved some food around on his plate not looking up
“don’t sound too excited connie.” you mocked and he rolled his eyes without looking up at you
“yippee, what do you want? a golden star?” he huffed and pushed out his chair before leaving the table
“y/n it’s the first night, lay low.” laurel said from her spot at the table
“you know whoever gets the first point basically wins the summer, it’s guaranteed.”
“you and you’re little competition,” she muttered
After dinner, it was time to head to the country club for the movie. It was only a few people who got invited to the place so you all fit into the movie room. You brought a blanket with you because you know it gets cold there. You all filed into the room once cam arrived and sat down. You went for the top to have some space for yourself. But before you could do that conrad plopped his body in the chair next to you.
“no, absolutely not.” you groaned
“there’s nowhere else for me to sit.” you glanced down and there was a seat next to taylor and steven
“literally right there!” you gestured to the spot
“and watch them make out all night, no thanks.” he reclined the chair back and put the middle console up so there was more room for y’all
“why would you put that up?”
“because it’s a waste of space and my elbow runs into it.” you huffed and fell back into your seat “so, Brown huh?” why was he being nice?
“yeah, so what?” you looked at him but he was looking at cam who was trying to use the remote to get the movie started
“nothing, just congrats. i know you have been wanting to get in your whole life.”
“thanks,” you whispered not used to getting compliments from him
“i’ll still beat your ass at everything there though.” and he was back
“yeah right dumbass.” he flicked your forehead “ow!”
“you’re the dumbass when i get a higher gpa than you.”
“like that’s even possible! you know i’m already ahead of you.”
“you can’t process any information in that pretty little head of yours!”
“you can’t because you’re too busy drinking all the damn time!” you yelled back
“at least i can relax-“
“guys!” jeremiah yelled throughout the whole room “shut the fuck up for once! y’all have to come help with snacks.” you both sighed and got out of your seats. you passed by steven and he winked which you flipped him off
“that was your fault,” you muttered walking past him as he held the door for you—so kind—
“oh yeah, sure drama queen.”
You both followed jere to the kitchen and he opened one of the doors for all of the snacks in a closet before waving at you both and closing the door.
“five minutes to work out whatever is happening and then i’m coming back so we can start the movie!” he yelled locking the door
“fuck you jere!” conrad let out but his brother was long gone “this is all your fault.” he walked around the room. the only light was the upper one that was slowly running out of juice
“oh yeah sure it's all my fault!” you sassed back
“if you would just shut up about always being the better one then we would never be here.”
“oh and you’re so great conrad?” stopped about 10 feet away from you on the other side of the closet
“i mean i won our little contest 5 years in a row so i should get a nice pat on the back.” he shrugged
“you’re so full of yourself.” you laughed
“thank you. i appreciate that.”
“it wasn’t a compliment asshole.” you went and tried opening the door but it was in fact locked
“do you not want to be trapped in a room with me y/n?”
“no, you should have an illness that could spread to me through the air.” you turned to look at him “why can you just let me win, for one time in my life i want to have something to be proud of conrad!” he was taken back by your statement “i never get anything! i have to watch it all get ripped from me and compared to something better! i can never win anything! and you and your rude comebacks don’t help!” you ran your fingers through your hair “belly gets volleyball captain and a new fancy boyfriend, steven get taylor, jeremiah gets into a frat and has a girlfriend! i got pre-med, which is amazing but it’s nothing compared to yo-“ you mouth was shut. no, you didn’t just stop talking. there were hands on either side of your face and lips pressed against yours that were definitely not your lips but conrad’s he kissed you hard and you let your eyes close and fall into the kiss as you kissed him back softly and when he pulled back he looked into your eyes
“shut up.” he breathed out “you are amazing, okay? i’m sorry for the fucking competitions. it was the only way i got to spend time with you.” you were starstruck maybe this was a dream “you’re too good for me, you’re too smart, too beautiful, overall i feel like i should never be seen with you because you’re too good for me.”
“kiss me.” he blinked at you “kiss me again conrad.” he smiled before kissing you again backing you up into a shelf and holding your face tight. you brought one hand to run through his hair and the second one slowly lifted his shirt so you could slip your hand under and feel his skin and he shuttered under you “sorry, are my hands cold?” you didn’t stop feeling around his stomach and chest area which made him breathe out a long breath
“no it feels nice, different.” he moved back down to your lips and your hand slowly went around his body but you two were cut off my knocking on the door
“times up shitheads!” you moved away from each other and conrad fixed his shirt and hair before stepping out of the room and you followed. you made it back into your seats and cam started the movie switching the lights off. conrad’s cheeks were flushed in the darkness as he took some of your blanket from you to cover him and you
The movie went on and everyone was in their own place. Conrad slowly moved his hand to rust on your thigh and you froze as his hand moved towards the waistband of your pants. You looked at him but he was just looking at the screen. His fingers messed with the waistband before going past your shorts and underwear. You slowly moved closer to him and his hand was extremely close to your clit. Before you could say anything he took one of his fingers to rub it softly and you gasped, but no one looked back thinking you were doing it at the movie.
“you have to be quiet,” he muttered into your ear before continuing his movements over your clit faster this time making you open your legs for him
“con,” you laid your head on his shoulder not trusting your head to stay up and he moved slowly to your entrance sliding a finger up feeling the effect he has on you
“i’ve always wanted to do this.” he then slid one finger into you and his thumb rested on your clit adding pressure to the pleasure
“fuck.” he moved his finger in and out feeling the breathing from you on his neck and he was slowly getting hard under the blanket hoping no one could see “another.” you sighed digging your fingernails into his arm and he slid a second finger in moving faster in and out rubbing your clit and he also used another finger to pinch it causing you to jump
“careful.” he moved his hand faster now wanting you to finish, just from him and him alone. “come on baby.” he kissed your head “give it to me” he rubbed your clit harder and his fingers moved faster you could definitely hear the wet sounds if the movie was not at an intense moment
“cumming.” you bit down on his neck cumming on his fingers as he slid them in and out to let you go through your high before pulling them out and slowly bringing his fingers to suck on them “my gosh.” you looked up at him
“if it isn’t clear now, i’m done playing games with you.” he leaned toward you almost enough to kiss
“me too, no more games.”
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tag list:
@maybankslover @safeplaceholland @mysticalstarlightflower @stylesyourmine
join the tag list here
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kurikive · 6 months ago
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MINECRAFT — 10. d-day
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Y/N went out fast the night before. Her reasoning for the whole melatonin thing being her insomnia. She feared if she slept too late she wouldn’t wake up early the next day, but given she borderline overdosed on sleeping gummies, she would have not woken up at all if it weren’t for her friends.
NewJeans’ manager had told her to meet at the PC room at 8 in the morning to discuss some final things and prepare the computers so that they could start the filming at 10.
It was just going to be a casual Minecraft gameplay with the NewJeans girls. They planned to play Build Battle for the first half and Bedwars for the second half. The member with the most wins across both minigames would have to battle a 1v1 in Minecraft Hunger Games with Y/N to win the prize.
Oh, right. The prize. It really wasn’t much more than a box of expensive beef, which surely would trigger the competitive nerve in some of the members. The video was going to be filmed for Y/N's channel, so she wasn’t going to be the one competing for it anyways. And yes, she did buy the meat with her own money, but considering how much she’s getting paid right now and how much she’s going to get paid, it’s really nothing.
7:19. Y/N was already wearing the outfit Hyewon had picked for her, deeply breathing in and out to calm her nerves. Anton and Jiwoo smile as they try to talk her into departing Nervousville and taking the bus to Peaceburg. Also to take the bus to the PC room, because as popular as their friend is, she still uses public transportation. She says it’s better for the environment, and although it is, it still causes her to get recognized from time to time.
“What if I bail?”
“I’ll kill you. No joke. I’m a nepo baby, I can get away with it.” Anton says. Y/N can’t not believe him.
“Okay! Well, see you guys later!”
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It’s been twenty minutes since Y/N arrived at the PC room. They chose one she used to go to a lot throughout middle and high school. It looks a lot bigger without people.
Y/N had brought her three best cameras for this and was currently setting them up. She didn’t really know where the NewJeans members were going to sit, but she was setting them up so that the members’ faces could (hypothetically) all be seen.
She didn’t really know when the girls were going to arrive and it was eating at her brain. Every few minutes a rhythm of snaps was heard from the Y/N, a habit to try and calm her nerves. Every other second she pulled on the side of her black jeans, accidentally pulling at the skin of her thighs below the cloth.
One of the staff took note of these little quirks and patterns. A young woman approached her slowly, but Y/N only took notice of her when she spoke, “You don’t need to be nervous!” A comforting smile tugged at the woman’s lips, “The girls are super nice and they’re very excited to work with you.”
Y/N, stunned at her sudden appearance, only bowed with a nervous giggle. “Thank you…” She said lowly.
“I’m Ha Sooyoung. Stylist.” The woman extends her hand towards the younger, who shyly shakes her hand. “How old are you, by the way?”
“Twenty… I'm.” The unwanted fashion of mixing up her words comes back to haunt Y/N in the most unconventional situations. She just hopes it doesn’t happen in front of the members.
Sooyoung smiles at the speed in which the younger’s face flushes a rose color. “You have a really nice face, you know?” The comment throws Y/N off. Not in a bad way, of course. She’s heard endless compliments about her appearance; she’s very aware she’s good looking. But the remark coming from a professional stylist definitely surprises her a bit.
The woman, noticing Y/N’s expression, is quick to retaliate in case of a misunderstanding, “Not in a weird way, I swear!” The older waves her hands as if trying to shake away the other’s concerns (there weren’t any). “I’m much older than you, please. I meant, like, God…”
Y/N picks up on Sooyoung’s frustration and tries to fix the situation, “No! No, I get it. It’s okay, Sooyoung-ssi.” Sooyoung doesn’t know if she’s laughing at the formality or at her own mistake, but it’s funny regardless.
“I meant,” the woman clears her throat, “You have a face that’s great for modeling. Have you ever tried it?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think brands want a YouTuber as a model.” A sheepish laugh leaves Y/N’s lips at her bad joke. Thankfully Sooyoung laughs with her.
“Hey, well, they might after this! Who knows?” Sooyoung takes something out of her bag while the both share giggles, “If you ever want to try it out, I’m a photographer on the side. Could help you out, y’know?”
Y/N’s eyes widen when Sooyoung hands her a business card, phone and e-mail on the bottom, but instead of her name, ‘YVES’ is written on the top in bold letters.
“That’s my personal phone number. Unnie is just fine, by the way.” Y/N receives another one of the older’s charming smiles with a bow and a “Thank you, unnie!” before Sooyoung pats her shoulder and leaves her side at the sound of her name being called.
“Oh! The girls are gonna be here soon. Get prepared.”
And Y/N’s back to pulling at her jeans.
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masterlist | next
taglist # @yumtooki @saysirhc @modanisgf @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @miinatozakiii @hotluvlet @mym1na @keiji-jin @wintersgff @wonyoungssi @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @shozeu @nwjnsloona @kaypanaq @pandafuriosa60 @linnnsworld @hwabyul4wheesun
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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 3 months ago
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Poly!plastics x nerd!reader
Readers’ in robotics, reads comics (#1 Spider-Man defender) builds legos, that type of nerd (me fr)
Spiderman
|| poly!plastics x nonbinary!nerd!reader
|| Warnings; reader gets bullied by a jock, light swearing, name calling, lots of fluffy moments though
|| Summary; when reader has robotics, Regina demands their presence in the cafeteria. Reader brings their robot with them.
Requests open!
Started; october 31st
Finished; october 31st
notes; spiderman is mentioned many times.
~~~
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The school day was only just starting, the bell for classes hasn't even rung yet as you made it to your locker. You put in the code on your spiderman themed lock, then opened the locker door. The inside of your locker had a thin white sheet over it. The sheet however hardly looked white anymore. Any white space that had existed was covered in spiderman stickers; making it one of your favourite things to look at every morning. Your favourite superhero was spiderman, to say the least. Your girls knew this and were part of the reason why your locker was so coated in spiderman stickers. Regina and Gretchen tended to get sticker packs for you every now and then. It was one of your favourite things to get. You loved stickers.
After getting your books, you closed the door and headed to first period. On the way you were greeted by Karen, who skipped over to you with a happy smile on her face. "Hi, baby!!" She leaned down and pecked your cheek.
"Hey, Kare." You smiled up at her and she handed you a pack of bandaids that were spiderman themed. You raised an eyebrow at her, though there was a smile on your face. Cause spiderman. "I saw these and thought of you!! You love the spider guy and you're always getting boo boos." She booped your nose and you chuckled a bit.
Appreciating the gesture. Everyone always thought Karen was a bit... unintelligent. But you knew she picked up on things. She knew you liked spiderman and that you often got hurt in one way or another. So when she saw those and thought of you, she just had to get them. You thought it was adorable. "Thanks, babe." You gave her a soft kiss that she easily melted into.
"See you later!!" She waved to you before running off, you assumed to class. Though she got distracted and held conversation with some people as the bell rang. You walked over and grabbed Karen's hand, excusing her from the conversation. Making sure she got to class before going to your own.
Later at lunch, you had a robotics meeting. You were one of the first ones there, having made the excuse to leave for the 'bathroom' before the dismissal bell rang. You worked away one one of your projects that you'd left there. A fighter robot that you were submitting to the robotics fight club event. You'd been working on it the last week and only just gotten most of the framing done yesterday. You were mostly focused on the wiring today.
You'd been focused on the arm motions when you got a text from Regina, asking where the hell you were. You responded with robotics club. Which then led her to demand your presence in the cafeteria with them. Deciding to take the risk, you brought your not even close to finished robot with you. Knowing that if anything were to happen, specifically at the fault of other students, the plastics would have your back.
It didn't take you long before you were sitting with your girls, next to Gretchen who watched you fidget away at your project. Curiosity ever precent in her eyes. "What's this wire do?" She pointed to one of the wires, you glanced at where she was pointing.
"The wire connects the code device to the middle finger." You explained, Gretchen raised an eyebrow and that caught Regina's attention. The middle finger?
"Huh?" Regina tilted her head a bit. You went into the app on your phone and pressed the button, with a creak the skeletal hand lifted its middle finger. Regina scoffed and Gretchen laughed at that.
"Oh my God, that's amazing." Gretchen gave you a nudge and you couldn't help but smile. Loving that your girls were so into your creation. You pressed the button again and the bot corrected itself.
Karen was a little late to register what actually happened, but when she did she giggled." Did the bot just use the no no finger?" She looked at you and you gave her a sheepish smile.
"Yup." You nodded.
Some brave, idiotic jock decided to mess around with you the moment he saw the robot. He snatched it from you and looked it over," the fuck is this weird thing?" He stated.
You immediately went to grab it from him, when he pulled it out of your reach.. you tapped the middle finger button. The bot flipped him off and that just seemed to piss him off further. Regina wasn't having it. She rolled her eyes in annoyance," just put the robot down, Blake." She told him, well. More like demanded. He didn't listen right away, but when he was met with Regina's glare- he slowly set it back to the table.
"Okay, geez.. I was just messing with dork-o here." He ruffled your hair before walking away. You grimaced at his touch and looked at Regina. Who was definitely annoyed.
She muttered something about dealing with him later, Gretchen just took your hand and gave it a squeeze. "I think your bot's cool." She assured you, you smiled a bit at that.
"Thanks.." The rest of the day went by smoothly, but slow. You couldn't wait to get home and work on your robot some more, maybe add some spiderman stickers to it once you were done. Oh! Or make it look like spiderman with a nice paint job.
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occasionally-poetic · 28 days ago
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marauders characters’ ethnicities/religions/languages
just my own HCs so don’t get offended!
jayaram fleamont potter
(tells people to call him j or jamie bc its easier, so everyone assumes his real name is james, and he doesn’t correct them)
indian hindu on his mum’s side (tamil nadu specifically)
effie comes from a rich tamil pureblood family (many pureblood families name their children something greek/latin, thus ‘euphemia’), and teaches jamie hindi, tamil and some greek
his tamil is great and he’s fluent in writing/reading as well as speaking, writing letters to effie from hogwarts in tamil
his hindi is okay, mostly with reading and talking, his writing is pretty limited
his greek is godawful and he’s barely conversational, much to effie’s dismay
(non-practicing) catholic chilean on his dad’s side
monty is (obviously) a potter, and most of his relatives live in chile or south america, but his parents moved to england for hogwarts (didn’t want him going to school on another continent to them)
he’s a practicing hindu with his mum (monty doesn’t really get it because he doesn’t speak a word of hindi so he just smiles and nods)
he speaks english and (chilean) spanish, which he teaches jamie, who speaks/reads/writes it as fluently as his english and tamil
sirius orion black
he is heir of the noble and most ancient house of black so he’s the french-est pureblooded-est guy you’ll ever meet
especially pureblooded because he’s the product of incest (his parents are second cousins) (canon)
the black family are french, owning many estates there, etc., but have lived in england for generations (his great-grandparents migrated and now they only visit france in the summer sometimes)
catholic (receiving NOO criticism here bc this is canon (no its not)) with intense religious trauma and internalised homophobia (not projecting at all whaaaaat)
sort of converts to judaism (ish?) he makes remus explain it all and siri thinks its sooo fascinating so he gets a menorah for the dorm for hanukah and buys a torah to study and remus is so happy
speaks french as his first language, and latin and greek fluently from tutoring, but only started to learn english for hogwarts (is so bad at it in first year omg)
remus yohanan lupin
(I KNOW HIS CANON MIDDLE NAME IS JOHN BUT HE IS SO JEWISH CODED TO ME SO HERE’S THE HEBREW FORM OF JOHN INSTEAD X)
polish-jewish on his dad’s side (lyall was evacuated to wales in ww2, when he was about 10, and hope’s parents looked after him until he graduated hogwarts and started dating hope (they literally adored him and helped raise remus I DONT CARE))
protestant welsh on his mum’s side (didn’t really practice her faith though - just brought them all to church on christmas eve and easter sunday)
interfaith household + being a patrilineal jew (more not fitting in angst for remus guys!)
spoke english and welsh at home, equally fluent (lyall picked up welsh while living with hope’s parents), and hebrew too from his hebrew sunday school
lyall tried (and failed) to teach him polish, as that was his first language, so remus can speak a very basic amount of polish, mostly swearing and children’s lullabies (marlene teaches him more at hogwarts so they can gossip!)
not very orthodox jews, but celebrate jewish holidays and go to the synagogue on sabbath (and he wears a necklace of the star of david that belonged to lyall’s late mother)
pieter daan pettigrew
(anglicised his name for hogwarts because everyone called him p-eye-ter (like actual pie + ‘ter’))
protestant dutch on his mum’s side (but she went to hogwarts!)
protestant english on his dad’s side
parents were ‘born again’ christians so they were very devout (grace before every meal, helping out at church every sunday, bible study every morning, etc)
peter never really believed in any of it, and would often go to jamie’s to avoid having to go
he spoke english with his dad and half-brother, but solely dutch with his mum and his other siblings. he was also taught latin before hogwarts (pureblood things) and absolutely HATED it (he was probably dyslexic and often found himself changing language in the middle of his talking exams)
picked up a fair bit of tamil from jamie and effie (aka his second mum) and absolutely LOVED the potters’ diwali party (literally the highlight of his year)
let me know any other characters i should do!! and if you disagree feel free to leave your HCs in the comments, but please respect that people have different opinions xx
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ashwhowrites · 1 year ago
Note
Oooh, look who opened their requests! Fitting! Would you want to do an Fboy! Eddie with a reader that gives him both a taste of his own medicine but also a wake up call?
Awesome, so FboyEddie! I just have read so many fics where the reader sleeps with him and gets hurt when he says it's just sex and she ends up giving him a dose of his own medicine by sleeping with a bunch of other guys and I'm like ... why?! Why do you have to sleep with a bunch of other guys just to get back at him, I firmly think that just shrugging and going on your life would hurt WAY more. So of course reader gets hurt when Eddie says he doesn't 'do' relationships but is like "life is short, why cry over spilled (spoiled) milk". And maybe Billy Hargrove helps her, because even though she doesn't want to sleep with him he always likes to piss other guys off and he's just 'you won't risk hurting ME while you get back at that wannabe Van Halen". And when Eddie is pissed and is like "how can you be with Hargrove, he doesn't care about you, he just wants to get into your pants" and reader is like "oh, unlike you, you mean?" and that is an 'aha' moment to Eddie. Sweet and fluffy ending if possible
~~~
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! As always, thank you for requesting <3
A taste of medicine
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Y/N and Eddie didn't cross paths too much. They had their own group of friends and hobbies. The only time they found themselves in the same place was at school or a party.
Y/N always had a thing for Eddie. She liked his mysterious and rebellious nature. She was attracted to him and she had no problem admitting that to him. He had the hots for her as well, the second she admitted she liked him he grabbed her hand and brought her to his van.
They were desperate, the kiss was hot, heavy, and messy. She clawed at his skin and his mouth attacked every inch of her. The windows fogged around them as Eddie pounded inside of her. Their moans bounced off the van and left no questions for the people outside.
The windows, noises, and the van rocking gave them the exact answer of what they were doing. But it wasn't uncommon for Eddie's van to be fogged up and rocking when he was at a party. It was almost a weekly occurrence. He liked to party and fuck. Everyone knew that about Eddie, especially the girls.
Anytime they wanted a sloppy, meaningless, and quick fuck, they'd go to him. He was damn good too, some girls came back more than once. But as always, he said it would never be more than sex.
"Look, I don't know where your head is, but I don't do relationships," Eddie said, pulling on his shirt.
"Oh," Y/N said she felt a small twig of hurt. The few times they've crossed paths, they got along and talked. Which he didn't do with girls. She was the only girl he talked to outside of sex. She thought she was different and maybe just a tad bit special. But she wasn't.
"Well, that's alright! Have a good night, Munson." She said, her voice chirpy and unbothered as she crawled out of his van.
Eddie didn't have a reaction when she slammed the doors shut.
~~~
The few times they passed each other, she gave him a small smile and kept on walking. She never came up to talk to him, not that she did before. But he guessed maybe she'd cling on to him the same way the rest of the girls did.
When they ran into each other at the next party, he was confused by her unbothered behavior. She talked to him the same way as before. She was friendly, smiling, and acting like nothing happened between them.
Even when a girl interrupted them, and was whispering in Eddie's ear, there was no sense of jealousy in Y/N's eyes.
The girl even went as far as to kiss Eddie in front of Y/N and all she did was smirk and walk off. A smirk that said, "Have a nice time."
Why wasn't she bothered?
~~~
Y/N left Eddie with his new girl of the night. The girl seemed to want Eddie's attention and Y/N didn't need to stand in the middle of that.
"I see you didn't fall for his spell." A voice said next to her. She looked over her shoulder to see Billy Hargrove behind her
"Life is short, nothing to dwell on." Y/N shrugged, she filled a red cup with a drink. Then she poured one for Billy and handed it to him.
"Do you know what might be fun?" Billy asked, his blue eyes snapping to Eddie and then back to her. She raised her eyebrows and turned her body to face him.
"Let's get back at him. It's time he realized not everyone is going to cry and beg for him back." Billy explained.
"One, I'm not sleeping with you just to get back at him. I don't sleep with random guys for any reason unless I want to have fun. And second, I'm not crying nor going to beg for him back. Involving you doesn't matter to me." She explained she wasn't a child. She wasn't going to get back at Eddie by sleeping around. She'd be doing exactly what he does. Plus she didn't think he'd care.
"Okay, fine. All fair points. We don't have to sleep together. Look, I need to make a girl jealous and you're hot. No feelings involved on either side, let me wine and dine you a few times. You get free food, might make wannabe Van Halen jealous, and you help me get the girl." Billy shrugged.
It didn't sound like a bad idea. She didn't care to make Eddie jealous. Billy was attractive and why say no to a few dates just to have fun? She liked dating and she liked getting spoiled. Billy wasn't expecting anything from it and neither was she.
"You got yourself a deal Hargrove."
~~~
Eddie found himself confused. He slept with Y/N, something he's been dying to do. And he craved her again. He waited and waited to see if she'd crawl back, like the other girls do. But she didn't. At the past few parties, she was always talking with Billy Hargrove and that didn't sit well with Eddie. He felt his insides burn when Billy had his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
How could she be so stupid? A guy like Billy Hargrove would never bother with a girl unless he was trying to get in her pants. Why would Y/N let herself be used like that?
And why did Eddie care so much?
For once, Eddie went after a girl. He ditched every girl that walked up to him that night. His fingers itching to run up under Y/N's dress. His mouth watered as he thought about her cunt on his tongue. He wanted her and he wanted her now.
He walked right up to her, she was standing alone for a second. Eddie took the chance.
"I've been thinking about you." He whispered in her ear, his arms wrapping around her as he stood behind her. He didn't waste a second, his hand slipping up her thigh. He could feel the goosebumps on her skin and the way she shuffled.
"Oh yeah? About what?" She edged on. If Eddie wanted just sex, she could do that.
"Your cunt clenching around my big cock. Your nails scratching down my chest as you ride me. Tits bouncing in my face as you swirl your hips. Riding me until you cum, using me until you're satisfied. Cum dripping out of you as you walk back into the party." His words went straight to her cunt. She took his hand and headed for his van.
~~~
Eddie panted as the sweat dripped down his forehead. His eyes half open as she crawled off his lap. Her skin glistened in sweat as she clipped back on her bra.
"Was that good?" He asked a hint of insecurity in his tone. She didn't ask him to fuck, he had to ask her. He had to make sure this time she felt him for hours, forcing her to think about him.
She looked at him a little confused and slightly laughed. "Yeah, it was good, Munson." She continued to get dressed and Eddie lay there naked.
He felt a little relief but also conflicted that she laughed.
"See you inside!" She said as she jumped out of the van. The doors slammed in his face yet again.
This time he wasn't going to let it go. He threw on his boxers and jeans. He didn't bother with his shirt, just throwing on his jacket. He marched back inside after her.
There she was, back with Billy like they didn't fuck each other's brains out in his van.
He walked up to them, yanking her away from Billy's grasp.
"Woah, Munson. Chill out. Don't hurt the pretty girl." Billy teased. He could practically see the steam coming out of Eddie's ears.
"Shut it." Eddie snapped, then he looked back at Y/N.
"What are you doing with him?" Eddie asked
"Um? Hanging out?" Y/N said she was confused. And she was confused as to why Eddie cared.
"Hanging out with Hargrove? Oh come on, he only wants to get in your pants! He doesn't care about you."
Y/N scoffed and shook her head. "Oh, unlike you, you mean? From what I can remember, after we hooked up you pretty much said sex was all it was"
He guess he never realized that. He was the one being stupid. He was the one who sounded like an idiot. He marched up planning to make her open her eyes, but her eyes were open.
Y/N rolled her eyes at his silence and marched off.
"Smooth, Munson." Billy teased, his hand slamming down on Eddie's shoulder. "I'll let you in on a little secret. She likes you way more than she thinks. You've got a chance, but the more you carry on with this fuck boy act, it gets smaller and smaller."
~~~
The hard part of always telling girls it was just sex, was not knowing a thing about them. Eddie had no idea where Y/N lived, worked, or a way to see her. He didn't have a number to call and he was embarrassed to ask around.
So he had to wait for Monday to arrive before he could apologize. He figured at least the extra time would give her time to calm down and give him time to figure out what he would say. But he still had no clue.
Eddie looked around every hallway he could, he even arrived at school early to find her. To his surprise, he found her. And not to his surprise she rolled her eyes when she saw him.
"Before you walk away!" He raced after her, his hand on her elbow.
"I want to apologize for my comment about Billy. I was the one who shut anything down and I have no right to speak on what you do. " Eddie started, his apology caused her to stay. Her head to the side as she nudged him on.
"I guess I never liked a girl enough to think past sex, and that's a dick move on my part. I was intrigued by you and I thought if we had sex, it would go away. And it didn't. I wanted you again and again. At first, I thought it was for sex. But the two times you shrugged me off, it hurt. And Billy helped me realize, if I was hurt, I can't imagine how hurt you could have felt. I don't want you to feel used. You are worth way more than that."
"Eddie, what are you trying to say?"
"I'm sorry and I want more than sex with you." Eddie said, plain and short. Right to his point.
"So now that it's you that wants it, you should just get it?" She asked
"No! I know that you have every right to never see me again. But I was hoping that the part that likes me or used to like me, might still be there and want to give me a second chance?" He asked, he never felt so nervous in front of a girl before. And he felt so seen and vulnerable.
"Look, I was fine with it being just sex, but I do like you. Yeah, it hurt a little bit that you wanted nothing more, but I wasn't surprised. And I wasn't going to crawl into a ball and cry about it. At the end of the day you are just a boy," she said, Eddie felt like this wasn't going in the direction he wanted. "But, maybe after a few dates, you'll be more than just a boy. " A small smile on her face.
"Okay now what are you saying?" Eddie asked.
"Cut off the girls, don't sleep with anyone else, take me on some dates, and after that, we'll see." She said, her head up high as she walked past him. Her shoulder brushed his.
She felt proud and she walked like she owned him, because in a way she did. No one ever had Eddie Munson on a leash but she was ready to drag him all around.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37
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yourfriendlyfanperson · 2 months ago
Text
A Chemical Reaction Called Love
Chapter 2: More than a Coincidence
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~Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!reader
~Summary: Being the daughter of Hawkins Middle School Science teacher, Scott Clarke, has its perks. Constantly having to explain things to 'King' Steve Harrington wasn't necessarily one of them but it was something you had gotten used to. He might not be the brightest guy but at least he tried, and you appreciated that. You had big plans for the future, but they might be forced to change thanks to a phone call...
~Warnings: Sensitive topics might be brought up so reader discretion is advised.
~Word Count: 2.8k
~Authors Note: Hey everyone! Here's chapter two! Thank you so much for the love on the first chapter, I'm still getting used to how posting fanfics on tumblr works so I appreciate all the likes and reposts! If you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter let me know! Once again you can find me on Ao3 as Lilpipsqueak and W-tpadd as friendlyfanperson!
If anyone could tell me how to do the number link thing where I can link the second chapter to add to chapter one I would be so so thankful I have no idea how to do it
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~Narrator's POV~
"Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n!"
She stops walking, turning around to look at who was calling her name in the corridor, and she sees Robin rushing towards her, almost falling back but she catches her balance before she falls and continues running towards her.
"You won't believe what I just saw," She says stopping in front of her.
"What?! What happened?" She asked, wondering what exciting information she found out now.
"Steve Harrington is going out with Nancy Wheeler," She told her, eyes wide open, "Can you believe it? I thought he only dated the pretty easy-to hook up with girls"
"I thought that too, but I also guessed something might be going on between them since I saw them hanging out yesterday" She shares with Robin, "I never would've guessed that Nancy would be the type of girl to go out with someone like Steve"
"Right! I mean she's so smart and pretty! She could get any guy in Hawkins and she went for the dumb popular guy of all" Robin said, she had never been able to understand what people saw in Steve, she saw him as a grade A asshole.
Y/n thought Steve was okay, she didn't want to have much of an opinion on him since she didn't talk to him outside of the classroom so technically didn't know the 'real' him, but she didn't hate him or anything like that.
"Maybe there's something about him that they see" She points out.
"Or maybe they just have such a low-self esteem they will settle for someone like him"
"You really don't like him do you?" She asks her, knowing very well her answer.
"I have a right to dislike him alright, he's an asshole to some people, is rich and he gets the chance to date most if not all of my crushes" Robin explains annoyed.
"How is he being rich something that adds to him being an asshole?" Y/n asks confused as to how that comment is relevant to the conversation.
"Because, meanwhile we're both here poor with our part-time jobs" She complains opening her locker as she takes out her books.
"I'm pretty sure he can't help the fact he's rich, and I'm not really poor, so technically you should hate me too," She tells her, partially joking.
"I could never hate you though, and you're economically okay"
"Wow, so you're saying I'm almost poor?" Y/n asks her walking to her next classroom.
"I mean...no, but also yes" Robin explains to her.
"Rude" Y/n adds as she pushes Robin away from her.
They both laugh at each other as they continue walking down the corridor, knowing that this is just one of their usual banters. Yet Steve stayed at the back of Y/n's mind after the conversation ended and she wondered what type of person he really is, whether he's an asshole like many think, or whether there's more to him than meets the eyes.
She had most lessons with Steve actually, but they never really talked outside of science, she guessed it was due to the fact in his other classes he sat next to Tommy or some of his popular friends, so it would be weird for him to speak to Y/n as if they were close friends since they weren't, she wasn't even sure if they were friends, she supposed they were simply acquaintances, or just classmates, anything along those lines.
Sometimes she would catch him staring at her, which she found a bit strange but she guessed he just spaced out those times, it happened to her sometimes as well so she knew not to overthink about it. And there wasn't really a reason for her to overthink about it anyway, she didn't find Steve interesting in that way, sure she thought he was probably hiding more than what he led on, and that his only mystery was more than just him trying to act cool.
Other times he surprised her as well, those times tend to be whenever he asked her about the lesson and if she could help him understand what was actually taught, and today just happened to be one of those days.
"Hey, Einstein," Steve says walking over to Y/n's desk.
She looked back at him surprised by the sudden start of a conversation as she packed her books.
"Yeah?"
"Did you-umm, understand anything that Mr. Drew explained?" He asks, knowing full well that he spent half of the class talking with his friends and the other half trying to comprehend what was coming out of Mr. Drew's mouth.
"You're asking me if I understood the crash of Wall Street in 1929?" She responds, slightly confused on how someone couldn't understand at least the basics about it.
"Yes" Was all Steve was able to say, realising how stupid he must seem now.
"Yes I understood it, did you?" She asks, and he could tell she didn't seem to have any intention to judge him.
"I mean, honestly, no, but I wasn't paying much attention to be fair," He says, feeling okay with the fact he might be a bit of an idiot.
"You gotta start paying more attention in class Steve, we graduate next year," Y/n tells him as she takes one of the books in her bag out again.
"I know, I know, and I will, I swear"
"You better, because I can help you study but I can't get you the grades at the end of the day. Now, here are the notes I took of today's class, they're pretty self-explanatory but if you need help with them just let me know and I'll go over the topic" She explained handing him her notebook.
"I own you big time" He smiles at her taking the notebook and putting it in his bag
"This is like the thirtieth time you've said that, you own me a lot," She tells him, mostly just joking, but also keeping it in mind.
"I know, but I'll pay you back one day," He tells her, actually being serious and wanting to eventually thank her for all her help.
"You don't actually have to, you know? I help you because I want to, not to get something in return" She points out as both of them start walking out of the room.
"I know, but I still need to thank you, you've helped me more than anyone else, even though it must get annoying"
"And there you're very right, it can be annoying at times but it's not so bad" He looks at her confused, unsure whether he should take it as a compliment or be offended.
"Is that supposed to be a good comment?" He asks.
"Well-"
"Hey, Y/n have you seen Barb around? Or do you know anyone that has seen her today?" Nancy asks her clearly worried.
"No sorry, I haven't seen her, I don't think anyone I know has any lessons with her so I doubt they'd know," Y/n tells her, a bit surprised by the question given the fact she never talked to Barb and was a year older than both of them so there was no way she would have any of her classes with her, "Maybe she's off sick"
"Yeah don't worry about it too much Nance I'm sure she's fine," Steve tells her, taking her hand and moving closer to her. Y/n knew it was time for her to go.
"I'll let you know if I hear of her though, I'll see you guys around," She said waving goodbye at them and walking off to her next lesson.
The rest of the day was pretty normal, nothing exciting ever really happened in Hawkins anyway, so aside from school and work there was nothing Y/n had to worry about, except, of course, the fact that Will was still missing and was yet to be found.
She hoped that what they had found last night would at least be a start, but she also knew that maybe what they found meant nothing to the investigation. All she wanted though was for Will to be found and returned safely home.
"Do you have work today?" Robin asks her as they walk down the corridor, the school day finally over.
"Yeah, I'm taking the bus there since my dad has to stay late finishing some things, do you?"
"No, I worked yesterday so I'm free today, but I have to help out my mom with some things" Robin explained to her as she opened the door and they both walked out of the school.
"Sounds fun," Y/n said sarcastically.
"I mean it shouldn't be too bad, but when it comes to my mom there are times when I don't even know what will happen"
~~~~~~
"Do or die, what's done is done" Y/n sings as she skates down the night streets to her house. She had finished her shift for the day and was finally heading home after a long day of serving customers at the cafe, but she got some pretty good tips so she didn't have much to complain about.
Due to the fact she didn't own a car or a bike, she always skated from the cafe to her house, it wasn't too far away and she actually liked skating, it was her way of exercising (since she wasn't in any of the school's teams) and it was fun since she could listen to music while getting home.
Robin had told her that she should just save up for a bike since it was quicker but Y/n would rather save her money on something else that she either needed more or wanted more. 'You'll break your arm or leg one of these days' was what Robin always told her, but in her 7 years of having skates she had only scrapped her legs or arms, she also doubts the fact that tripping on something will make her end with a broken bone, so, for now, it seems she'll just stick to skating.
"Hey dad, I'm home," She says, unlocking the door and taking off her skates, "What's for dinner?"
She closed the door and left her bag next to his, taking off her coat and placing it on top of a chair.
"They gave me some mac and cheese that wasn't sold today so we could eat that if you haven't cooked anything," She told him walking to the living room where he was sitting watching the tv as she waited for his response, but there was none, "Dad? What do you-"
"On today's breaking news the body of Will Byers, who was announced missing just yesterday was found by the police minutes ago in the quarry"
Y/n's face drops as she hears the news, she takes a seat next to her dad as she keeps listening to the news trying to process what's going on, trying to process the fact that Will is dead.
"Chief Hopper believes he got lost after crashing his bike and accidentally fell, resulting in a tragic but hopefully painless death, but as of now it is just a theory, and we don't actually know if it was an accident, or perhaps something more. We give our condolences to the Byers family and we hope that they'll be able to get through these tough times "
Scott stands up and turns off the tv right after, not wanting to listen to any more details about the tragic death of his student and his daughter's friend.
Meanwhile, Y/n is still staring at the screen shocked, frozen in place, trying to understand the news she was just given, Will Byers, the little twelve-year-old boy which she babysat for years now has just been announced dead. She can't understand how such a thing can be possible, how a boy who had his whole life ahead, who was just beginning to live, who was the kindest person she had ever met, was dead just like that.
"Honey, are you okay?" Her dad asks her sitting back down.
"I-no, no I'm not," Y/n says as she starts crying.
Scott immediately pulls Y/n into a hug, her head hiding on his chest as she hugs him back, he patted her back gently moving his head on top of hers as he closed his eyes. He hoped that Will's death had indeed just been an accident, he had to make himself believe it was, because otherwise he might not be able to sleep for a while knowing that there could be someone out there who wants to hurt kids, and that could possibly hurt his daughter, he also couldn't believe that Will was dead, a boy he had been teaching for years and saw almost as his son, to end up with a fate late that. Y/n on the other hand just kept thinking about Will, what his final moments were like, whether he suffered or not, she couldn't even imagine how Joyce or Jonathan must be feeling getting the news that he is dead.
"I can't believe he's really dead" Y/n whispered as she stopped crying.
"I know honey, it'll be okay, how about I heat up the mac and cheese," He says, trying to help things calm down for just a second.
"It wouldn't be right if I tried to talk to them tomorrow would it?" She asks him.
"Talk to who?" Scott asks confused.
"Joyce and Jonathan, they probably need some space and time, so I should wait a bit before talking to them, right?"
"Yeah it would be better for them, they need to process everything first, let's wait a couple of days,"
Y/n nodded at her dad as she moved away from the hug, standing up and grabbing her bag, "So, mac and cheese?"
~~~~~~~~
The next day was exhausting, everyone around the corridors kept talking about Will and what had happened, Y/n was glad Jonathan wasn't in school because it would've made things impossible for him, she hoped he and Joyce were okay. She also kept thinking about Barb, Nancy had told her in the morning that she was missing and no one had seen her since Tuesday night. Two people now had gone missing, one of which had been found dead, and Y/n had a terrible feeling that maybe everything that was happening was more than just an accident.
"Just, don't mention the beers, it's just gonna get us both in trouble, and Barbara's got nothing to do with it, okay?" Y/n faintly heard someone say as she walked out of the school.
"I can't believe you right now... I can't believe you"
"Nancy!" She heard someone shout as she walked towards the middle school, she saw Nancy walking out of the spot between the school and gym, angry, like really angry, she didn't even look up when she passed by Y/n, she just kept walking straight to the school.
"Nancy come on!" She turned around and saw Steve coming out of the same spot, he wasn't trying to catch up to her, he knew she would ignore him anyway, "Einstein, hey" He says, his tone softer now as he turned to look at Y/n.
"Hey, everything okay?" She asks him, partially because it was the normal thing to do and also because she wanted to know what had happened, as nosy as it sounds.
"Yeah, everything's okay," He told her; Y/n knew he was lying, Steve knew she knew he was lying, but in a way, they both knew it would be better to leave it like that, "What about you?"
"Oh I'm fine, just walking to the middle school to help out with the assembly" She explained and he nodded at her.
"Cool"
"Yeah, well, I'll see you later," She said unsure of what to keep talking about, as she started walking away.
"Wait," He said walking closer to her, "How much did you hear?" He asked her.
"Honestly, not that much, only the end of it"
"Did it sound bad?" She looked at him confused.
"The argument?" She asked.
"Yes, the argument, did I sound like an asshole?" Y/n didn't think she could really make much out of what she heard, but it didn't sound great either.
"I mean- I barely heard anything, I don't even know the context of the conversation so I don't think it's right for me to say" She explained to him.
"That was a stupid question," Steve said shaking his head.
"If you think you were an asshole then you should apologise to Nancy, she's already having a rough time given the fact Barb is missing, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want to deal with an argument at a time like this," She told him, trying to help, in some way at least, she wasn't sure what to say, but this was the best she could think of.
"You're right, I was an asshole. You know you give great advice"
"Thanks, well I'll get going now, I'll see you later Steve," She says waving goodbye at him as she starts to walk away.
"Yeah, I'll see you later Einstein" He adds softly smiling at her as he walks back into the school.
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Thank you for reading! Any likes and reposts are appreciated!
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acim-ed-ortsac · 8 months ago
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Butterfly Kick (Shinobu! Male! Reader x Blue Lock)
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You knew you were shorter than the other football players in this room, not as strong as them, and admittedly your face was considered cute. But one thing you can rely on is your speed and agility. As you stood amongst the sea of around 300 other boys in this building, you waited for the person who summoned you here. You noted well-known figures here such as the genius speedster, Chigiri Hyouma, whom you heard of in middle school. Another guy was the heir of the Mikage Corporations, Mikage Reo, which intrigued you since you hadn’t heard of him playing football.
Adjusting the strap of your gym bag, your eyes went around the room some more before the screen at the very front flickered to life. A bespectacled man who looked unhealthily thin with bowl-cut hair greeted you, “ Greetings, diamonds in the rough,” were his first words. His dark blank wide eyes stared down at you as if you were mortals and he was a god. In a way, maybe he is in this situation.
His speech at first brought chaos and irritation, followed by fear at the prospect of removing their chance at the U-20 team. You had internally scoffed at that. Especially when ‘Japan's Jewel’ had protested against the man who calls himself Ego Jinpaichi ideologies. But you, you saw some truth in them. You weren’t ignorant or unaware of the flaws in Japan’s philosophy, ‘All for one and one for all’. Teamwork is nice but it’s useless if no fruits are being born or progress amongst the individuals themselves.
A team is not only a group of people who work together, but people who can bring out the best in each other, and who can compete and climb to the top. People who have a certain self-importance, an ego the bespectacled man had emphasized.
When the first boy ran towards the opportunity to improve and make it to the top, the others followed behind. You ran forward because you wanted to see what this program is all about, and you wanted to use it for your benefit.
“You can’t become the world's best striker unless you become the world’s best egoist.” Ego Jinpaichi had said in his speech.
When the others would grit, grumble, and protest, your sweet smile which you had worn for years now had a meaning under it. Something fiery and hungry.
After the blue buses brought you to the facility, you were given a number along with a letter before being directed to the building you were assigned to. You had changed into the suit you were given before finding your room, which was a W. It took you a while, but you managed to find it, opening the door.
In it were other boys besides you, around 10 to 12. And they were infuriatingly taller than you as well. You felt a muscle twitch as you kept your smile, “Hello, how are you? I’m Kocho Shinobu, nice to meet you.”
The boys have taken your introduction well as one came up to you, with a smile. From there, it was easy to befriend the other guys in the room, which came to blow when Ego appeared on the screen and announced a game of tag; the loser would be kicked off of the program and never play for the National team ever.
From there, it was a war of desperation.
You mostly stood to the side, dodging when others would target you, which was often. You knew it was because they underestimated your short stature and weak-looking body, but it was easy to prove them wrong when you quickly dodged any strike aimed at you. And the few moments you were hit, you quickly kicked back at them. When the timer was up, one exited the room, bawling his eyes out.
You didn’t even know his name. 
Then Ego announced the First Selection, where your team will be facing off against four other teams in your building. Which builds up anticipation and distress at the prospect of losing and going home. For now, it was the Athletic tests.
You were confident in your speed and endurance, but weightlifting was something you were sure to suck at. 
You glanced at your rank as you wiped off the sweat from your forehead, ignoring the sounds of boys training. You’ll need to do better if you want to stay and make it to the national level.
The food that you ate was decent, but you couldn’t deny how appetizing the others were. Your eyes glanced at the other players who were participating in this program while you partake in conversation with your teammates. You noticed some peculiar ones such as a blonde with dyed ends that rise up aside from to locks at his front that go down. He has dark skin, not as dark as the people from the African continent but close.
Another one is a dark-haired boy with cyan eyes and underlashes, a loner type with a powerful aura.
Then there’s one with long hair and another one with a bulky build.
Sadly, they were taller than you by a lot. You internally grit at this, ‘I’m possibly the shortest one in this program, aren’t I?’
Your teammates were oblivious to your annoyance when you went back to conversing with them with a smile.
The first few matches were…uneventful. You weren’t sure if it was just because they were lower than you or what, but the first match was chaos and a mess. You could’ve just stayed at the side, but you had gotten fed up when your teammates refused to work together despite your insistence.
Which made you decide to do it yourself.
Kicking off from your place at the side, your feet ran past your teammates and the enemy before getting the ball from them. Everything was a blur for you as your eyes were dead-center at the goal, a sense of belonging and fire as you pulled your foot back before kicking the ball past the goalie and straight into the net.
And in that moment, you knew you started a chain reaction.
From there your teammates had found themselves the motivation to help you score, which in turn finally made you work with them like a team. You suppose this was what Ego meant by ‘Ground Zero’, by playing without roles there will be chaos and disorder until there will be a 'protagonist’ to shine the light and guide the way to victory.
Your smile became sharper at the idea.
The next match was kinda boring as there was no challenge, opting to stay at the side and let your teammates have their chance at scoring. The match after that was against the team with the boy with blonde wild hair pink ends, and dark skin. Now that you got a good look at him, you noticed how he has pink eyes and a sort of…unique would be putting it lightly but deranged would be too much…He had a very interesting smile.
The match started off and the ball was in possession of one of your teammates, which was stolen by the blonde. None of your teammates could stop him, ending him in scoring.
Your interest piqued, deciding to enter the game. In the second round, your teammate passed the ball to you, leading you to run like the wind. You avoided the opposing team members with ease, feet light and body airy like a butterfly. What surprised you was the blonde that caught up to you.
“You’re pretty fast, for a shorty.” he grinned.
You felt a muscle twitch in irritation as you smiled at him with closed eyes “Am I? Well then,”  When you opened them, you made sure to express every irritation and ire that you felt in what humans call ‘The Windows of the Soul’. “I do hope you can keep up.”
With a kick, you sped through the field with speed that for others broke the sound barrier. Your legs pumped with anger, the ball bracing against your swift yet aggressive kicks when in your control. Your vision narrowed at one thing: the goal. It was in sight, and you knew you had this one when you pulled your leg back and shot the ball into the net.
The whistle blew at your goal.
Satisfaction took the cake, as you smiled while your team yelled in euphoria at the scored point. Then a blonde slammed that satisfaction down when he threw his arm over your shoulder—even more so when he leaned over to accommodate your height and smiled at you like he was teasing!
“I like you, Butterfly-kun.” The blonde said. “The name’s Shidou Ryusei, can I get your number?”
Your eye twitched before you shrugged off his arm, “Ara, Shidou-san is quite friendly. But I say that you are quite bold to ask me for my number—
—When you haven’t scored yet.”
Shidou’s smile became wider, “Like to hide behind a smile, huh? Bet I can break it out of you.”
”I don’t know what you mean.” you replied before returning to your team.
After enduring tests, challenges, and obstacles, you found yourself being one of the few players left in Blue Lock. Sadly, Kunigami seemed to have been eliminated. And just as you were reacquainted with each other again. However, the boy with blue eyes seemed interesting enough.
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Words: 1567
I had this in my google docs for a while now and just wanted to get this out there.
I also use the second person pov since it was easier to write.
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the-californicationist · 4 months ago
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Cali's Kinktober: Day 08
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Kinktober Masterlist ad vitam aeternam - "to eternal life" Johnny "Soap" MacTavish/141 x gn!reader Kinks > mind control, vampires, blood-sucking Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
The 141 vampire coven is terrorizing tiny villages in Northumberland, but you work nights and you really need this job. When a cute guy named Johnny offers to walk you home, you feel grateful for the free security. Unfortunately, you start feeling drowsy and confused. Where do you live, again? “It’s okay, bonnie. I’ll make sure you get there safe and sound.” 
No specific body traits or genitalia are mentioned. Gender neutral pronouns used. The only gendered nicknames are when Soap refers to the reader as "bonnie" or "hen" but no use of "lass" or "girl".
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This work trip had definitely taken a turn. You’d expected to be at the north edge of England for about three weeks, but it was going on three months for this project with no end in sight. You were staying close to Northumberland National Park, helping map an updated migratory route for the bat colony that roosted on The Sill of Hadrian’s Wall. However, as animals often do, the bats made their own schedule for when they wanted to appear, and you hadn’t collected nearly enough data to feed to the tracker model. 
But, you weren’t complaining too loudly. Your cottage was located in a barely-there village called Elishaw, and it was as romantic as it could be. The only problem was that, after the evening sun set and the bats had all returned to their roosts, the closest place to get a pint was a three kilometer hike on a two lane road with no lights, signs, or footpaths. 
In the daytime, the view of the area was lovely. Rolling hills, black forests, and green sheep-dotted fields stretched out before you as far as the eye could see. Everyone who drove past you would wave, and you would wave back. It was lovely… when the sun was shining. But, now, as winter chased away the warmth of autumn, it brought grey clouds and a constantly setting sun, making the nights frigid and windy.
It was spooky the first time you’d gone at night, but now that you’d ripped off the proverbial bandage, the second time was no big deal. At this point, you’d been down to the Redesdale pub dozens of times, and you often walked alone, in the middle of the night, bundled up like an arctic explorer, drunker than you’d ever been.  
Tonight was one of those nights. 
“Are ye sure ye’ll be alright by yersel’, hen?” Thomas, the barkeep worried over you in his semi-local Berwickian accent.
“Yeah, Tom,” you smiled up at him, “I only had two pints. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be home before I know it.”
“There’s been talk of wild dogs takin’ to eatin’ the Kilpatrick’s sheep, Tom. ‘S not safe for a visitor to go alone, ye ken?” A man’s voice, Scottish instead of Northumbrian, piped up from the back of the bar. 
You hadn’t even realized there were other people with you and Tom. But, the grizzled barkeep smiled knowingly, 
“Ah, Johnny. Take ‘em back with ye, lad. Make sure ye get home safe and sound. I’ll worry the night away if ye dinnae go together.”
“No trouble, Tom. Headed that way, besides. C’mon, bonnie. Tha’s us, then,” Johnny paid for your tab and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the pub with a speed and ease that should have been alarming. 
But, you had to admit, it was nice to have an escort on your scary road for a change. 
Except… this wasn’t your road.
“Hey, I thought that was the way back there?” You pointed through the trees at the path you usually took, the one that was wide open and clearly visible, not the path through the dark forest.  
“Dinnae fash, yourself, bonnie. It’s a wee shortcut,” Johnny assured you. 
His smile was so easy to believe. The light that shone in his bright blue eyes was intoxicating, and his body was statuesque. He told you all about himself - the town he was from, where he went to school, how he was a sergeant in the RAF. It was fascinating. So thrilling, in fact, you came to your senses about thirty minutes into your trip, knowing you should be seeing landmarks, and yet you were even deeper in the woods than you’d been when you started. 
“You feelin’ alright, hen? Lookin’ a little puggled. Think you’ll make the trip, though. Just a bit further.”
“Where… um, where are… you… taking me?” Your words slurred together, and you felt like you were trapped between being awake and being asleep, knowing you couldn’t have drank enough to make you muddle your speech.
“Gonnae stop by my place for a moment,” Johnny pointed to a blackstone cairn that sat on the side of a hill, “Should only be a wee minute. Do ya wanna come in with me?”
When he asked you the last question, he made a point to make you meet his gaze, and when you did, his eyes invaded your mind. You felt as if you couldn’t look away, and the only word that could come out of your mouth was a yes. 
You didn’t want to go inside that creepy fucking cairn. There was no way this was actually his house. But, you followed him, your body putting one foot in front of the other without needing for your mind to be on board with the plan. 
“You ken,” he talked to you as he held your hand, “Tomorrow’s Samhain. Gonnae celebrate with a wee bonfire, maybe a few more drinks. Want me to tell my mates to set the table for one more?”
Again, your brain blanked out when you replied to him. Had you said yes again? What was happening to you?
Finally, you made it to the mouth of the cairn, and a crude wooden door blocked your entrance. Johnny pulled it open and held it for you, waving his hand in a ladies-first sort of sweep. You couldn’t help but obey. So, you walked into the dark stone hut, discovering that the inside was filled with flaming logs in a round well in the center and rows of lit candles surrounding the space. 
“Hey!” Johnny called out into the crude building, “We’ve got company, lads.”
Too quickly, three other men appeared in the room. You wanted to say that they walked or that they ran, but they didn’t. You could lie to yourself about that later, but you knew they had just suddenly fucking spawned there. Your body, however, failed to react in shock like you wanted to. 
They were gorgeous; just as handsome and well-muscled as Johnny, but their eyes seemed less kind. There was something predatory about their faces, especially the one with the beard. He seemed cold in a way that was beyond cruelty. It made you shiver more than the cold wind ever could. 
“Well done, Johnny,” the bearded one spoke, reaching out to stroke your cheek, “Such a pretty thing, hm?” 
You wanted to pull your face away from his touch, but your will was muted, your desire gone, and your sense of self-preservation completely absent from your mind. The only thing you could still do, it seemed, was speak to them. But, even then, it was hard to form the words. 
“Johnny asked me to come for dinner. I hope that I’m not intruding,” you went for politeness over screaming your bloody head off. No one would hear you all the way out here anyway. Maybe if you were nice to them, they’d let you leave.
“Not at all, love,” the bearded one said again, taking your coat from your shoulders and tossing it down on a chair. 
You felt Johnny’s lips begin to trail their way up your neck as he stood behind you. He was kissing you with a hot passion, his teeth dragging across your smooth flesh. Then, his hands reached around to grope your chest, fondling your nipples under your shirt, pinching them in his hands cruelly.
“How could you intrude?” The tall, Black man replied, his teeth straight and sharp and gleaming in the low light of the room, “Guests are always welcome here, especially when they smell as delicious as you do.” 
“Besides,” his gigantic, blond friend responded, “You’re not here for dinner, love. You are dinner.”
As you saw the fangs drop into the hollow of the blond’s mouth, you felt Johnny’s set on your neck. He bit down into you and began to suck from you, taking gulps of your hot, crimson blood down his throat. It felt orgasmic, but there was something so very wrong about it, too. A dying part of you was yelling at you to run, but that voice was muted by the urgency of your pleasure.
Then, panic welled up in your chest. Who were these men? How did you get here? You needed your phone, something, anything to call the emergency line and get the cops over here. 
Yet, you were motionless. Your brain felt like it had finally been washed away to a blank, empty slate. It was painful to be drained from your neck and wrists and, now, from your chest as the immense blond lifted your shirt to suckle from your flesh, biting into your nipple with his two, long fangs, and draining your life from you. But, you let him. You let all of them feed and fondle you. You were in their thrall, and there was no escape.
You felt tears roll down your cheeks as you realized you weren’t going home again. You were prey to a coven of vampires, and you’d be lucky if they just killed you quickly rather than prolonged your life. 
Johnny shoved his hand down the front of your pants and began to play with your sex, moaning when he found its warmth. He pulled his mouth away from his meal for a moment and asked a question to the man with the beard.
“Can we keep this one, sir? Tastes too damn good.”  
“Aye, Johnny,” his leader told him, lifting your chin with his thick finger, “The ritual’s tomorrow, and I know you’ve been a good lad. So, just this once, we can keep ‘em.”
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monzabee · 2 years ago
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you'll change your name or change your mind - cl16
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Summary: The one where you find your way back home, even if the journey takes longer than you think. 
Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!bianchi!reader 
Word Count: 5.9k
Warnings: mentions of jules and his accident, ANGST, talks about college acceptances in the US but it’s not accurate because i’ve never applied for US schools, mentions of alcohol and underage drinking/clubbing (only in the US though), mentions of a fake id, mentions of cheating, fighting, charles being stupid and not realising it, talks about processing grief, GRIEF, survivor’s guilt, talks of therapy, friends to lovers y’all. 
Request: “The Charles fanfic was so good!! Can you write more angsty but happy needing Charles? I think it’s be cute for a man who loves Monaco so much to got to wherever his girlfriend lives Ike London or nyc often and deal with that. Maybe she hates monaco lol” + “if your requests are still open, max or charles + “you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.” thanks!”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i decided to give into the whole angst thing and i can honestly say that i’m having a great time. i wanted to include Jules somehow in this one because i’ve been seeing some edits on tiktok and let me tell you proofreading was a bitch because i kept crying. also, my spotify kept bringing up lorde and hannah montana songs, so there you go. this was definitely a hard one to write and i know it’s messy, but all feedback is appreciated. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Monaco is full of memories. It’s filled with memories of your childhood, your parents picking up you and your siblings from school in Nice, and getting the train to Monaco for your brother to compete in karting races. It’s filled with laughter, and ice cream, and friends. It’s also filled with fears, loss and uncertainty, and you suppose that’s why you didn’t ever want to go back. But you find your back there every time, even if it is only for a couple of days at a time. Although it reminds you of the bad times, it’s hard to erase the good ones completely. 
Charles is just one of the people Jules brought into your life. He was right there since your birth – apparently, the Leclercs were visiting your family in Nice when your mother suddenly went into labour. You will always be thankful to Pascale and Hervé for stopping Jules from choosing your middle name to be Michael Schumacher. Neither Charles, nor you will forget the type of shenanigans you got up to as little kids, there is only a year difference between the two of you after all. There’s that one time you stole Charles’ kart and tried to go down the road, in which he caught you but instead of ratting you out to Lorenzo and Jules, who were supposed to be looking after you by the way, he helped you get it down the stairs and passed you his helmet as he explained how to go about it. Neither of your brothers were impressed by your ability to go fast or Charles’ sudden interest in maybe becoming a race engineer if the whole driver thing doesn’t work out. There was also the time when the two of you, along with Arthur, snuck out from a family friend’s wedding to only get lost in a city in the South of France; Charles got so stressed that he forgot how to speak French and proceeded to ask how to get back to the venue in Italian for the rest of the night. Needless to say, the two of you are there for each other no matter what; you stayed together through heartbreaks, wins, losses, losing Jules and Hervé, funerals, weddings and much more. The majority of your time together is spent in your family’s house in Nice. Charles doesn’t mind the half-hour journey, an hour if he decides to go back but he hardly ever does. Sometimes, he manages to convince you come to Monte Carlo for the day by bribing you with promises of sunsets and ice cream, but he will always drive you back if you insist you want to go home without any complain. 
The first time you bring up the topic of moving, you’re in your last year of high school; by that time, Charles is already racing in Formula One, so your time together is limited to breaks between the races. However he tries his hardest to be there for you, from talking you through breakdowns that occur after long study sessions, to looking up pre-med programmes for you to apply all over the world. You never wanted to live your entire life between Nice and Monte Carlo in the first place, so is he is more than happy to help you explore your options. Your application results arrive when he’s on break between the races, so the two of you sit on the small table in his Monaco apartment’s kitchen, the light from your laptop lighting up both of your faces as you open up the emails one by one. You’re most anxious about your application to Columbia, which is 3.462 miles away from Nice, and 3.993 from Monte Carlo. By the time you finish opening up all the emails, both of you are sitting there with a silence between you. The acceptance letter still open on your laptop is congratulating you for your offer to join Columbia’s pre-med program the following September. 
“Yes,” He looks at you expectantly, “Accept it, Y/N, you shouldn’t be even thinking about it!”
“Yes?” You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s not that simple, Charles–” 
“But it is!” He argues, a big smile on his face. You can tell he is proud of you by the look in his eyes and the way his emotions carry through his voice. “It’s your top choice of school!”
“It’s also in New York, it means that there will be an entire ocean between us!” 
He shrugs. “So?” 
“So?” Your eyes widen in surprise, you start staking your head a little without being aware that you are doing it. “Doesn’t that scare you?” 
“Chérie,” Charles coos, pulling your chair by its leg to bring you closer to him and wrap a supportive arm around your body. His chest rumbles from his low laughter as he presses kisses to your hair. “We’ll be fine, look at everything we’ve been through, and we’re not even that old.” 
You scoff, hitting his chest in an attempt to get away; you start furiously typing on your computer. “You are old,” you point to him with a tilt of your head, “I’m not, though.” 
He rolls his eyes and turns his concentration to the tab still open on your computer, “You’re going to accept the offer, though, right?” 
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You end up accepting the offer. Charles and his family is there alongside yours to send you off on a plane to New York City. Both your mother and Charles’ have tears in their eyes as they say their goodbyes, with your father giving you a similar look. Being the youngest of four siblings, it must’ve been hard to send their youngest all the way across an ocean, but they let you know that you have their support in every step of the way. With Charles’ schedule for the remaining races scattered all over the world, he tells you not to force yourself and to enjoy your first months as a college student. 
You surprise him in Austin, though. Arranging this surprise is definitely not the easiest, but you ask Lorenzo for his help and he is more than happy to make arrangements for you. It’s the end of Friday’s last practice session when you surprise him in the Alfa Romeo garage. He almost walks past you, to get rid of his helmet when you say his name, but once he realises it is you he quickly pulls in for a hug. “What are you doing here?” He asks you while laughing with glee. 
“Heard there’s an immunology seminar in town about the effects of talking a shower and then going out without drying your hair.” You answer with all the seriousness you can muster. 
“Really?” He asks in confusion, taking his helmet and balaclava off and trying to fix his sweat-soaked hair. 
You hit the back of his head lightly, shaking your head in disbelief. “No! I came here to see you race, you idiot!” 
He shakes head in understanding. “Oh, oh!” His eyes widen once again with recognition this time. 
“Yes, oh, now come on, we’re going out.” You’re quick to add, “To dinner because airplane food sucks. We’re going out clubbing after the race, though.” 
True to your word, you go clubbing after his race on Sunday, which Charles is not entertained by. He’s paranoid by the fact that you are in the club with them in the first place, which should not be happening because you’re underage. He keeps silent as you show the bouncer your id, which he knows is a fake, by the way; as he sends Lorenzo an incredulous look, his older brother’s reaction consisting off a shrug of the shoulders makes him more paranoid. 
“Y/N, you should not be drinking.” He voices his concern, as you’re on your second drink of the night. “This is wrong.” 
“How is this different than me drinking back at home?” You argue with your eyebrows raised. “You don’t tell me I can’t drink when we’re back home.” 
“Because it is legal for you to do so there!” Charles exclaims, somehow gathering the attention of some of the clubbers nearby, but he offers them an apological smile and then turns back to you with his voice lowered. “You’re not twenty one, ergo – you shouldn’t be drinking.” 
“Pfft,” You shrug him off, “You’re stupid, and I’m bored. You want to dance?” 
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You help Charles to move into his flat in Italy when he starts racing for Ferrari. Though he still lives in Monaco full-time, he rented a small place in Maranello to stay when he’s travelling. It’s an emotional event, which has both of you sitting on the floor of his new apartment going through boxes of old photographs. He finds one of his brothers and Jules with you, standing in front of a karting ring with big smiles in all of your faces. You fingers involuntarily trace over your brother, your eyes misting when you think about the day. 
“He was so young,” You whisper, having to swallow a sob which threatens to escape. 
Your eyes linger on the photograph for a while, and Charles quickly understands that you were not talking about the photograph as the tears you were trying to hold back find their way onto your cheeks. “He was.” He agrees; there aren’t enough words in the world to describe what losing a family member does to a person, and he understands you in a way most people cannot. 
You offer him a sad smile through your tears. “He would be so proud of you.” 
“He would be also so proud of you,” He whispers right back, leaning closer to you so that he could wipe away the few stray tears. “In fact, I am pretty sure he is.” 
“Stop it.” You laugh softly through your tears as you push yourself to get off the floor, and dry under your eyes with your fingers as you look across the room. “Oh my god, Charles, we have so many boxes to go through.” 
He gets up after you and looks around the dusty living room as he attempts to get rid of the dust on his clothes. “We do, don’t we?” He watches as you kneel in front of an unopened box and slice through the tape with a knife, and starting to go through the items in the box. He watches you go through the items silently for a while, noticing how seriously you take the task. His eyes linger on the frown on your face for a while, the way your eyebrows scrunch in question, or how you tuck a stubborn piece of hair, which escapes from the braid in your hair, to the back of your ear. He stalks closer, gently gripping one of your wrists and pulling you to your feet. “Dance with me.” He asks – which comes off less as an ask and more of a demand, which causes you to playfully roll your eyes at him. 
“Charles, the boxes–” You try to argue. 
His laugh is laced with mischief. “The boxes will still be there, chérie, just one dance won’t change anything.” 
You try to come with arguments in your head but all your attempts are quickly thrown out the window when you realise just how green Charles’ eyes actually are. “We don’t have any music.” You try to offer as a measly argument. 
Charles raises his eyebrows as he wraps his arms around your waist after making you wrap yours around his neck. “We don’t need any music, Y/N.” 
So you give up in any attempts in stopping him, as he starts to slowly sway both of your bodies from side to side. You let out a chuckle when he stars, terribly, humming to an old song you used to hear on the radio. “This is stupid.” You mumble as you keep up your pace with his movements. 
“You seem to keep calling me that.” Charles recalls, making both of you laugh in recognition. “I need to tell you something important.” 
“So tell me,” you encourage him, motioning him to continue. 
“I met someone.” He announces, a small smile playing on his lips. 
You breath get stuck for a moment, in which you remind yourself that Charles is waiting for your reaction – most likely a supportive one at that. “Wow, Charles.” You breath out and give him a smile, which you successfully manage to pass off as a supportive one, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice breaks off in the end. “I’m so happy for you.”
You’re not stupid – thinking that either of you could stay single forever is an unrealistic one. But it hurts to imagine him with another person while he looks at you like that makes a part of you crumble up into a ball on your bed and cry. And that’s just what you do when you go back to the hotel that night (because the house is still unliveable when the two of you decide you’re done for the day). You try to keep your sobs as quiet as possible because you know Charles is in the hotel room next to yours. As you’re looking out the window, watching the night sky light up with stars in Maranello that night, you tell yourself you, somehow, need to move on from your best friend. 
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The next time you see Charles is during Christmas time. You have a tradition – Lorenzo, Charles, Jules and you, a tradition, which Arthur joined once he was old enough. It’s a peculiar one. While it’s not uncommon for most families to watch Christmas movies during this time of the year, your choice of movie has not Christmas elements in it at all. Every Christmas, the four of you watch The Sound of Music. It’s a silly tradition which was born out of boredom and lack of movies one Christmas, but it’s a tradition you managed carried out every year. 
You can still remember Lorenzo complaining because “It’s three hours of songs about whiskers and bass clef.” 
While Jules gives his best friend an unamused glare, both you and Charles try to mimic the Frenchman who you idolise. “It has nuns, songs, Nazis and familial love, Lorenzo, what more could you ask for?” He shrugs as he turns his attention back on screen, “Plus, Julie Andrews is hot.” 
“Why would she be hot?” You remember asking, the woman on the screen not seeming uncomfortable by the weather. 
“No reason,” Jules assures you, wrapping one of his arms around you.“Watch the movie, shortcake.” 
And yes, while it might be stupid to watch the same movie, which has no Christmas value at all, every year on Christmas day, it’s a reminder that you have each other even if you’re not always together. So when you sit down to watch the movie that Christmas, there is a bad feeling in your stomach when you realise Charles is not there to watch it with you. If his brothers also find it weird that he’s not there they don’t make a comment, neither do you, for that matter. You try to push it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment, telling yourself that even if this is a tradition between the four of you, it’s not the end of the world if you fail to do it. So you smile, and have fun throughout the day – when you’re watching the movie, or when you decide to hold a gingerbread house competition (Arthur wins, by the way), or when you sit down to have dinner with your families, and it makes you feel a thousand times better. 
It’s late when he comes home that night, Lorenzo and Arthur have already passed out on the couch with you trying to read the anatomy textbook on your lap in the low light. 
“Hi.” He greets you as he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 
“Hi.” You whisper back, trying not to wake up the boy sleeping next to you. “Did you have fun?” 
“Yeah, it was a good day.” He answers truthfully, and then motions the book resting on your knees. “Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”
“No, I think I’m going to stay here tonight.” 
He doesn’t argue as he presses a kiss on your temple. “Okay, good night, chérie.”
One thing about Charles, is that he is very secretive about his relationships – to the point where he won’t introduce someone to you or his family if he doesn’t think the relationship is going somewhere. So, when he brings over Charlotte for lunch the next day, there is a buzz around the house. The lunch goes well, you think. Charlotte is sweet, and the two of you talk about many things including your universities; she’s very impressed that you want to go into the medical field and you tell her that architecture must be a pain in the ass to study and she agrees with a loud laugh. 
When Pascale asks them what they did for Christmas yesterday, Charlotte leans against Charles’ arm as she answers, “Oh, nothing. We just stayed home and watched that old movie – what was it again?” 
“The Sound of Music.” Charles answers, his eyes are focused on his hands, and you know this, because your eyes don’t heave his frame until Arthur forces you to carry the dishes into the kitchen. 
“We’ll do them, maman,” he announces when Pascale attempts to tidy up the dishes, “Y/N will help me, won’t you?” 
“Yeah, sure.” You nod, the voice coming off from you not matching the sunny disposition you present to the rest of the room. 
You carry the dishes Arthur passes to you to the kitchen, holding your breath in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, and you succeed, too. At least until Arthur comes after you, carrying more dishes and places them next to the other ones near the kitchen sink. You start scrubbing them with intensity, your sniffles and the sound from water whooshing around in the sink filling the room. Arthur pulls you against him as you lean your forehead to his shoulder, or where you can on his arm due to your height-difference, as you start quietly sobbing. Arthur turns the tap on as he lets you cry into his shoulder. 
The two of you return to the dining room after the dishes are done, and continue the conversation as if nothing happened. After Charlotte announces that she should be on her way, you walk her to the door with everyone, the two of you exchanging numbers as she makes you promise to go shopping with her the next time you’re in Monaco. You agree with a chuckle and tell her only if she teaches you how to draw because your “Anatomy notes are seriously suffering.” After she gives Charles a kiss and leaves, Charles turns to you. 
“It’s just a movie.” He says in a low voice. 
“You’re allowed to have fun with your girlfriend, Charles.” You assure him and pat his shoulder for good measure. Then, you turn to Arthur, who is watching the exchange with a confused look on his face. “Want to play a round before I leave?” 
“Sure,” he agrees and the two of you move into the living room to play a round of F1 on the PlayStation. He sets it up for you as you try to get comfortable on the couch, trying to get rid of the feeling of unease as Charles watches you from the other side of the couch. “Who do you want to pick?” Arthur asks you, the cursor hovering over his choice – who is of course his brother. 
You stay quiet for a moment and answer him in a calm voice, “Give me Max.” 
Charles scoffs from the other side and pushes himself off, his arms crossed over his chest. “Rich, Y/N, just rich.” 
“What?” you ask him with faux innocence and a shrug of your shoulders. 
His voice is accusatory when he snaps, “Stop being childish for a moment.”  
“Oh, I’m being childish?” You ask him, getting off the couch as well. 
“Yes, you’re being extremely childish right now.” He agrees, nodding his head. “Glad we at least agree on that.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask again while narrowing your eyes. 
He scoffs, “It’s just a stupid movie.” 
“I didn’t say a fucking word about the movie, Charles.” You point out, mimicking his pose as you cross your arms over your chest. In reality, it’s a short attempt at trying to hide your shaking hands. “But it’s not a stupid movie, it’s tradition.” 
“Traditions can be broken from time to time.” He argues.
“I didn’t say they couldn’t.” You shrug, trying to appear indifferent to the man in front of you. 
“Maybe if you tried to stick around for more than three days at a time, you wouldn’t be so upset about these type of things.” 
Your mouth hangs open in shock. “Excuse me?”
“Charles, maybe you should–” Arthur tries to stop his brother, but Charles waves him off. 
“Sometimes I think ‘Did I do something?’, but then I realise that maybe the problem is not me–”
Though you’re shocked by his words, you find yourself assuring him, “It’s not, it has nothing to do with you.” 
Both you and Arthur can see something snaps in him, causing him to raise his voice. “Then what is it? Tell me so I can fix it and you can stop running away!” 
You shake your head, your arms which are wrapped around you becoming tighter as an attempt to provide yourself some sort of protection. “You can’t fix it, Charles.” 
His arms become undone as his fists ball on either side of his body. “You don’t know that–”
“No you can’t!” You scream, somehow more tears flowing from your eyes. “You can’t bring Jules back because he’s dead, and you can’t fix me because I’m not a toy! You think I want to live this way? You think I want to go back every damn time I set foot in this city because I just hate it here? I can’t bear the thought of staying here because of the fact that my brother died while I was here and I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.” You point a finger towards him, your voice gradually becoming louder to match his. “He was dead by the time I got back to the hospital and they told me he couldn’t hold on any longer, how do you think that makes me feel every time I feel like I’ve overstayed in this city, huh?”
“You need to stop living in the past, Y/N.” He shakes his head. “Don’t you see you’re letting the past hold you back?” 
“‘Letting the past hold me back’ do you even hear yourself right now? I am trying my best to move on!” 
“By moving across the ocean?” He asks you, “By leaving the people you love you behind?” 
“You– you can do this!” You scream as you walk towards him and jab your finger against his chest. “You told me to take the offer, you told me to move away because you were so sure we’d be fine.” 
“Well maybe I was wrong.” He whispers, grabbing both of your wrists to stop you from poking him and curling his arms closer to his chest. 
Your eyes widen with a furious look in them, which makes him realise he sees more of Jules in them than before. “Screw you, Charles.” You struggle against his hold, hitting his chest with your fists with every word as you scream, “Screw you for trying to dictate how I process my grief, and screw you for acting so indifferent.” You win your struggle in the end, taking advantage of the fact that he is both distracted and speechless to get out of his hold and quickly grab your things. 
“Where are you going?” He asks you as you’re putting your coat on. 
“Anywhere but here.” You snap at him, refusing to meet his eyes. 
Arthur quickly comes near you with a concerned look, “You shouldn’t be driving right now, at least let me drive you.” 
You give him the warmest smile you can muster up, “I’ll be fine, ThurThur,” your eyes find Charles’ as you continue, “Don’t ever change, okay?”
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After the disastrous Christmas last year, you two didn’t talk for a whole year, even though the people around you tried their hardest to bring you to talk to each other. Even Charlotte tried to trick you into spending time, claiming that she had a work emergency just as you arrived at the lunch you two scheduled to find Charles sitting there – you quickly left without being seen and spent the day walking through the marina because “Fuck Charles if he thinks you can’t spend more than three days in Monte Carlo.” He spends Christmas with Charlotte again, but unlike this year, you don’t feel sad about his absence, choosing to call it growth when reality it’s actually packing it away to deal with it another time. 
The two of you eventually do make up, though, when you go to one of Arthur’s races to support him and run into Charles on the track. You talk between breaks, both of you succumbing and apologising to each other for the things you’ve said – him more than you, but you still apologise for the way you’ve acted afterwards. Arthur has a strange smile on his face when he finds you, releasing a relieved breath when you told him that you’re fine and you’re going to take baby steps. 
“Good,” he smiles, “maman was about to lock you onto Charles’ yacht.” 
Your therapist calls is ‘survivor’s guilt’. Yes, you have one of those now because although you want it to be false, you think a part of what Charles said might be right. She explains to you that it’s a natural response where someone has suffered a loss and you didn’t. This confuses you, though, because even if the loss in question is the death of your brother, you weren’t there to experience it with the rest of your family. Dr. Gambini is there to explain that “Although it implies experience, it doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t not feel the loss of something you didn’t get to suffer.” So, you go through the therapy experience to try to understand your own feelings, which makes you think maybe it is what you should be focusing on in the first place. It’s an overwhelming feeling, understanding things about yourself which you didn’t before – the things you used to feel slowly gain meaning as you go about it. You’re proud of yourself when you talk about it to your parents, and they tell you that they are proud of you for giving it a go. Charles joins you in one of your sessions – it’s Charlotte’s idea, actually. He tries to understand why, and how he can help you – he leaves the session feeling proud of you for taking care of yourself. 
A few months later, you get a phone call from him when you’re in the middle of the week when you are studying,  while all of your friends are away for spring break. His voice is thick with tears as he tells you that it’s over between him and Charlotte, but refuses to give you a reason when you ask why. It leaves you confused in New York, but when he asks you if you can come home for the weekend, you don’t hesitate to book a ticket for the next flight out. He’s shocked to find you standing in front of his door, but pulls you in for a hug anyway. Neither of you care about the duffel bag that hits the floor at your feet, even when you’re stumbling over it to get to him. You don’t talk, but hold each other throughout the night. He offers to cook for you, but you decide that ordering pizza is a better solution than trying to each what Charles attempts to cook. So, you end up deciding on pizza and a movie. 
You look at him confused when you realise which movie he’s selected, “It’s not Christmas, Charles.” 
He sits down on the couch, and pulls you under his arm as he reaches for the pizza box sitting on the coffee table. There’s a nostalgic smile on his face which you cannot understand. “I owe you two screenings of this movie, Y/N. Now eat your pizza and watch it.” 
So, the two of you watch the movie in silence – with silently laughing in relevant scenes and Charles even attempting to sing the Lonely Goatherd, which leaves you in tears because of how much you’re laughing. At the end of the night he walks you to the guest room in his apartment and pulls you for one last hug, whispering, “Thank you for coming,” into your hair. 
“Of course, Charles.” You whisper, turning your head and softly pressing a kiss to his shirt-covered chest. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning. 
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He’s in the kitchen when you wake up in the morning, focusing so intently on something on his phone to notice you. You ruffle his hair as you make your way through the kitchen to make some breakfast for the two of you. “Good morning to you too, you grump.” You tell him, when you finish getting out the ingredients for the breakfast you have in mind. 
“Morning, chérie.” He answers, in a non-committal voice.  
“And to think I was going to make you pancakes.” You sigh as you halt the movement of your hands and lean against the counter. 
A playful smile is on your lips when Charles excitedly raises his head. “Pancakes?” He asks in a soft voice. 
“I was going to add chocolate chips, too, but you didn’t say good morning to me and now I don’t think I’m in mood to be honest with you.” You shrug, starting to put away the bowls you took out. 
He quickly comes behind the counter to tickle some sense in you, and you use the bowl in your hands as a shield as you start laughing. He gives up after a while, pressing a kiss to your temple and fixing some of your hair which fell out of place during the ‘fighting’. “Good morning, how can I help you?”
“Wow, you actually want to help me cook for a change?” You coo, ruffling his hair again and hitting his hip with yours to get him out of your way. “Go wait on the other side, you grumpy baby.” He complies to your directions to sit on the other side of the island, but doesn’t bother with his phone this time. You make a motion towards his phone on the island with your head as you crack the eggs into the bowl. “Is everything alright?” 
“Yeah, just some problem with the car.” He answers. “I might need to go to Maranello for a day or two. When is your flight back to New York?” 
“Oh– I can change it if you know the date–” You start to say, but he quickly cuts you off. 
“What? No, I don’t want you to go back.” He quickly says, shaking his head. “I just thought you might want to come with me rather than stay here.” 
“Oh,” You say, looking around. “It’s not a problem, I can stay and study.” 
There is a confused look on his face. “Stay? Here?” He asks over and over again. “Here? Stay? Alone?”
“Yes, Charles, I can manage to stay by myself.” You sigh. “I did it last summer for a month, you can trust me, alright?”
“You were in Monte Carlo for a month, last summer? How did I not catch you at all?” 
You let out another sigh, “In case you don’t realise, I’m very good at avoiding you.” You continue when he gives you yet another confused look as you start mixing the batter. “Charlotte told me to meet her at a restaurant but it was a set up for me to meet with you, so I got in the car and drove away. It was probably the closest we got to each other.” 
“Wow.” He looks at you with wide eyes. “Just, wow.” 
You roll your eyes and glare at him. “Stop looking at me like that. My classes are all online this semester and Dr. Gambini thinks it’s good for me to spend more time here; it’s supposed to help me get closure, or something.” 
He gives you a big smile. “I’m proud of you, Y/N.” 
“Yeah?” You ask him, his smile quickly mirroring on your own lips. 
“Yeah.” He breathes out. “And you can stay here all you want! And cook me breakfast, you know.” 
You let out a laugh this time. “I can get my own place, Charles.” 
“But then who will cook me breakfast?” He asks with a small pout. 
“You are a child, Perceval.” You laugh at the way he looks at you, with his elbows bent over the counter and his upper body leaning over the stove. “I’m only cooking you breakfast; you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me after this.” You joke. 
You turn around to look in the cupboard for the chocolate chips as you hear him mumble, “Too late.” 
You almost hit your head at the open cupboard door when you turn right back to look at him. “What?” You walk towards the island as you mumble out, “No, no, no, no, don’t say that. You just broke up with your girlfriend, Charles.”
“We broke up almost five months ago.” He announces, no hint of joking in his voice. “Right before the Abu Dhabi race.” 
“That’s not true.” You say, shaking your head. “I spoke to Charlotte; she told me everything was fine.” 
He shrugs, then offers you an explanation. “We announced it a couple of months later, but we’ve been broken up for a while.” 
“But then why did you call me a couple of days ago to tell me it was over?” You ask him, visibly confused. 
He looks guilty as he admits. “I– I don’t have a good answer for that.” He stalks over to the other side of the island again to trap you between himself and the marble in an attempt to prevent you from evading. “All I can say is that I love you.” 
“Oh, wow.” You say, suddenly you can find the right choice for words. “Say that again for me?”
“I love you, Y/N.” 
“Now in French?” 
“Je t'aime.”
“In Italian?”
“Ti amo.” He laughs this time, leaning down towards you to bring his face towards yours. “You done?” You nod your head with a giggle escaping past your lips. “This would be a perfect time to say something, you know.” 
“Oh, right.” You nod in acknowledgement. “Thank you.” 
“What?” He asks in horror. 
“Yeah, thank you. You know, for the–”
“Chérie!” He exclaims with his eyes wide. 
You continue your giggles as you place your hands on his cheeks and pull his face towards you, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you too, chez moi,” my home/place. The pancakes are long-forgotten when you pres your lips on his to give him a kiss, somewhere in the universe your twelve year-old is high-fiving with herself, but you are happy to be finally home. 
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