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piastrinorris · 2 years ago

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busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.3k

A/N: Fun fact: with this chapter, the BSBL timeline now coordinates perfectly with our own! Ralphie's living in real time now :)

This chapter does define a specific family dynamic with reader, which I know puts a lot of people off because it's not identical to theirs, but I needed to make it something so that the story could progress. I hope you still enjoy it!

“What on earth is that monstrosity?!” Ralph asks with disgust as the door closes behind him.

“Good afternoon to you,” you say in a voice that mocks Ralph’s before returning to your own usual tone. “Good afternoon, Ralph! How was your day at work? Oh, it was quite spectacular, I helped transform a gentleman into another man named Elvis, not that I’d know who he is or why he’s so important that people want to dress up as him, but nonetheless, what a marvellous day! Why, you look absolutely swept off your feet, what sort of old-school gentleman would I be if I didn’t insist on helping? Oh, well that’s very kind of you, Ralph, thank you so much for offering!”

You look up and burst into laughter at Ralph’s highly unamused expression. “You didn’t answer my question.”

You point at the object in front of you. “’S a tree. Big thing, grows outside, birds live in it. Mind you, that’s the real deal, this thing’s just made of plastic,” you wriggle a branch up and down as if that demonstrates your point at all.

“I know what a Christmas tree is, I mean are you really putting all those lights on it?” He asks with an upturned nose.

“What’s wrong with these?” You ask as you lift up the chain of Christmas lights from where they’d been resting across your shoulders.

“All the colours, it’s so… Where’s the consistency, where’s the theme?” he asks.

You roll your eyes, “Oh my god, I should have known you’re a white-lights guy. Anyway, it’s no fun limiting yourself to just one colour or whatever. If I see a decoration that I like, I buy it. Simple,” you shrug. “I could really use a hand with these, though, if you’re free,” you offer, waggling your eyebrows.

He frowns, "After all that?!"

You sigh in exhaustion, "Sorry. Twenty minutes untangling these pissing lights has made me a bit of a bitch.”

Ralph offers a small smile. “Then I suppose I should prevent your mood from getting worse, shouldn’t I? Um, where should I -?” he asks, gesturing and leaning from side to side, his eyes following the wire that encompasses you as he tries to find the end.

You giggle, “Here, I’ll keep this end, you get ’round the other side of the tree and I can hand the lights over to you. Just make a little gap between the wires,” you show him how, “every now and then and put it round a branch. Got it?” Ralph nods, looking at the tree intently.

On three separate occasions, Ralph worries that the lights aren’t long enough to fit all the way around the tree. You promise him that they’ve been long enough for the last three years, and you’re sure they haven’t shrunk while they’ve been in storage. “And how did you even manage this ordeal on your own for this long?!” he asks incredulously.

“It’d start off with me kicking the tree stand around and around,” you explain, “until it got to the lower, wider parts and I’d just give up and throw the lights over the top and pull them back down again.” Ralph giggles at the mental image before continuing the job at hand.

“Now, what did I say, hm?” Ralph eventually asks exasperatedly, gesturing towards his side of the bottom of the tree. “Not enough for this area!”

You crane your head around to look and grin, “Nah, that’s perfect!” He looks at you, bewildered, and you laugh, “Look, you just,” you start pushing the tree around so that the one bald patch is facing the wall next to the socket the lights plug into, plug the lights in and step back with arms out to show off the tree. “See? Looks great! We did it!”

He frowns, “It’s not… Perfect, though.”

“Well, maybe not,” you shrug, “but we did it, and the effort we put into it is what makes it perfect for this little flat.” Ralph’s ears turn pink at the notion of you potentially calling something you’ve done together perfect. “Right, now it’s time for the ornaments. And no judging them, okay?”

Your warning doesn’t stop him. “What on earth is this?”

You look over and grin. “It’s a monkey! Look at its little face,” you coo. “I got given it ’cause I like monkeys.”

“But why is it skiing?” Ralph asks, poking at the crocheted skis stitched onto its crocheted feet.

“Because it’s Christmas, duh,” you deadpan sarcastically, squinting at Ralph as though it were the most obvious thing in the world as you point out the Santa hat it’s wearing. He mimics your expression back to you, making you laugh, which only makes him smile as he eventually admits defeat and puts the ornament on the tree.

Once the tree is decorated, you step back and huff out a harsh breath. “Please tell me it’s all over now,” Ralph groans.

You giggle, “If you wanna stop, then fine, but I still have to put the decorations around the rest of the flat.”

“N-no! We have to - we’re decorating together, aren’t we?” Ralph asks hurriedly.

“Well, yeah, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can take it from here, I only really needed help with the lights -”

“No! It’s fine! I can help!” Ralph rummages through the box closest to him and pulls out something long, plastic and green. “What is this?” he frowns.

“Oh!” you laugh, embarrassed. “Oh, we don’t have to put that one up this year. That’s, um… Have you ever heard of mistletoe? The plant you’re supposed to… kiss under?” At those words, the fake sprig flies out of Ralph’s hands as though he’s been poked by a cattle prod. You watch it eventually land on the other side of the flat, impressed at its airtime, before continuing. “Yeah, it’s a dumb joke everyone makes about me being chronically single, so they put it up over the door in case I happen to come in with someone else, but obviously now I… I have you here, so… It’d. Be weird,” you falter as you instead focus on digging out a garland of tinsel to drape across the table, and definitely not on the thought of potentially having an excuse to kiss Ralph without consequence. You definitely don’t keep staring at the fake mistletoe on the floor and you definitely don’t consider hanging it up anyway.

Of course you can’t. Ralph blushes at the mere thought of his hand being held, to force him into a situation where he’d feel coerced to kiss you is far worse than never getting to. Instead, you just find a natural excuse to move over to that part of the flat to kick it out of sight. No need to acknowledge it any more.

Not that Ralph could acknowledge it anyway, either, his mind’s too full of thoughts of being able to hold the mistletoe between you two whenever he had the urge to kiss you and you having to comply, followed by his own silent self-scolding of how vastly inappropriate such an action would be.

Once the house is finally all decorated, you and Ralph collapse on the sofa. “Well, thank goodness that’s all over!” Ralph exclaims exhaustedly. “Though, I must say, it does still look… Festive. Even if not all of it is coordinated.”

“Wanna know the worst bit?” you hold back laughter. “We’re not even gonna be here to appreciate this on actual Christmas Day.”

“We’re?” Ralph asks, before nodding in sad realisation. “Ah. Because you’re going away and I can’t be trusted to provide for myself, still,” Ralph scolds himself quietly, but you frown, leaning yourself against him sympathetically.

“It’s not that! You’ve been doing pretty well lately, actually,” you smile at him. “No, I’m going to my parents’ for Christmas, and they wanna meet my new friend, Ralph.”

His ears turn bright red. “You - You, want… Want me to meet your p-parents?”

“Yeah! They already know all the others, they like to stay up to date with all the people in my life. Figured it’s about time they met my flatmate, eh,” you nudge him with your elbow and he laughs half-heartedly.

“Yes, quite,” he replies faintly. He still hadn’t found the right time to tell you about his encounter with Pete, and the momentum of bringing back anything from that weekend especially has long since gone. So as far as you know, he’s still on borrowed time. And now you want your family knowing about him? What sort of motivation would you have for taking him with you?

Unless, of course, you had been telling Ralph a white lie when you’d said it’s not that he can’t be trusted in the flat by himself. You probably just still want to keep a close eye on him. That has to be it. There’s no other logical reason.

~~~

“Remind me again how you two met, then?” your dad asks Ralph at the dinner table.

From memory, Ralph recites the backstory you’d created on your way there in a slightly stilted tone, “I am a family friend of Connor’s, who I know you’re familiar with.” You ignore the disapproving looks your parents share - of all your friends, Connor was always the one they were the least keen on, which is why you felt it safest to use him as a backstory since they’re the least likely to talk to him - as he continues. “I had recently left an… Unfortunate situation, I sought him out, he unfortunately had too many housemates as it was, but…” Ralph looks over at you, seeking approval in his storytelling.

“But then I came to the rescue,” you beam, quickly squeezing Ralph’s hand in affirmation under the table. The pink of his ears is obscured from your view when he looks over to you, as you smile at him proudly while your parents aren’t looking.

“What I don’t understand is,” your mum starts, takes her time chewing an entire mouthful of food, then carries on, pointing her fork at you, “have you moved and not told us, then? ’Cause I swear you were living in that one-bed, unless…” she waves her fork between the two of you with raised eyebrows, and you roll your eyes.

“There’s a sofa too, Mum,” you explain. “It’s fine, honestly.”

“Well, still, the sofa is no place for a young man like him to sleep on long-term, what about his poor back?” she asks.

Ralph looks at you like a deer in headlights, silently asking you if you should admit that he’s not the one sleeping on it. You try your best to give him a reassuring look as you rack your brain to think of a response, but your dad catches on, dropping his cutlery onto his plate in outrage. “Do not tell me you pay almost a grand a month to sleep on your own sofa.”

Ralph’s head hangs in shame, but you come to his defence. “I don’t! Ralph pays towards the rent now that he’s got a steady job, and it only started because I didn’t realise he was going to be staying this long.”

“So, I assume you’re saving up for your own place in the meantime, then?” your father asks Ralph, who has been too busy focusing on eating the rest of his meal in silence. Ralph simply nods at him, and your dad grunts, “Well. At least you’re getting there. And you both haven’t killed each other, yet, so things must be going well!” he laughs loudly, and Ralph forces out his own laugh in slight fear.

You roll your eyes again, “God, Dad, you’re so weird sometimes. C’mon, Ralph, help me clear the table.” You gesture with your head as you stand up and start collecting the plates. Ralph follows suit, following you into the kitchen. You mumble, “Really sorry about them. If it helps, my dad’s only ribbing you that much because he likes you. It’s his weird way of scoping you out to see if you can take it.”

Ralph nods with a frown. “So, should I also be as verbally biting back to him? Is that what he wants?”

“No! No, no, no,” you reply quickly, shaking your head. “Just laugh along with him, maybe a quick quip back every once in a while to catch him off guard if you can think of one, but not too many. He’ll just get offended. You know how dads - Fuck,” you slam the heel of your hand into your eye. “You - yeah, sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s quite alright,” Ralph reassures with a small smile. “It’s actually quite refreshing to see parental figures who are… So invested in their child’s goings-on.”

You give him a quick hug. “If it’s too much, just excuse yourself and shoot me a text and I’ll be right up with you, okay?”

Ralph nods. “I should be alright, but thank you for your concern nonetheless.” His smile is faltering, but he’s trying to keep it up.

Once you’ve both washed everything up from dinner, you go to take both your bag and his up to the bedroom, but Ralph soon chases after you to take his own. “I can take it if you want,” you assure him, but he shakes his head. “You scared to be left alone with my parents?” you ask, amused, and he shakes his head again. You narrow your eyes. “Are you lying?” Ralph hesitates before shaking his head again, and you giggle.

Bag in tow, Ralph hurriedly makes his way halfway up the stairs before stopping and leaning over the railing to look down at you with a frown. “I am going the right way, aren’t I? Only you don’t seem to be following me.”

“No, no,” you stay stood there, crossing your arms and smirking with a sarcastic smugness. “You clearly know exactly where you’re going, don’t let me stop you!”

Ralph meekly makes his way back down the stairs to you, and you grin wickedly, “Why’d you come down for?”

“W-Well, because you sai- Excuse you!” Ralph exclaims as you rush past him and run up the stairs, laughing maniacally. Ralph sighs wistfully. If you were his, he would chase you up the stairs and into your bedroom until he could wrap his arms around you and tackle you onto your bed. He would tickle you mercilessly until you relent, both of you breathless and grinning and mere inches away until he would kiss you, and then you’d kiss him back, and then he’d kiss you back, and -

“Oi! Ralph! You coming up, or what?” Your voice from the top of the stairs pulls him back to reality with an almighty thud.

“Y- Uh, coming!” he calls up, running up the stairs to meet you. “So I really was right?”

“You ought to believe in yourself more, Ralphie boy,” you tease. “But also, yeah, you might have ended up sharing a bed with my parents instead,” you giggle before leading him into your childhood bedroom.

It’s no longer quite your childhood bedroom - the posters of boybands are thankfully stripped from your walls, most of your old toys have either been collecting dust in the loft or given new homes by now, and there’s a desk that takes up most of the room now even without the added fold-out bed. But it’s unmistakably yours.

Ralph takes out a plush toy that’s certainly seen better days and smiles fondly at it. “You did say you liked monkeys,” he notes, holding it up towards you.

You take it out of his hands and look at it affectionately, “Yeah! This was one of my first ever toys. Man, we’ve been through some stuff together.”

“Is that so?” Ralph moves from sitting on the fold-out bed to sitting next to you on your one. “I can’t particularly imagine you being the type to parade around a comfort toy.”

“I mean, not now, obviously! But as a kid, we were inseparable.” You tell Ralph stories from throughout your childhood, both from your own memory and ones recited by your parents. He listens attentively as you ramble on, so deep into your storytelling and pointing out other things in your room to help accentuate the story that you can’t see the adoration in Ralph’s eyes as he revels in hearing you speak.

Ralph can tell that he’s doing it. He knows he’s playing a dangerous game. Perhaps he can let his guard down a little, surely. After all, he knows that he’s not exactly on borrowed time anymore. Perhaps he could allow himself the luxury of assuming that the only barrier between friendship and more with you, is simply that you don’t know.

Not yet, he reminds himself. There’s still some work to be done. He manages to regain his composure in time for you to look back at him. “Ugh, but you don’t want to hear me keep on about all of this.”

“No, actually, I’ve rather enjoyed it,” Ralph blurts out, and you hide your face so that Ralph doesn’t see you blushing at such a simple comment.

Your parents call the two of you downstairs and you squeal, gently slapping down on Ralph’s thigh as you clamber off of the bed. “C’mon! It’s time!”

“Time for what?” Ralph frowns, trying desperately to ignore the warmth that lingers from your touch.

“All the real Christmas traditions to start!” you beam from the doorway.

“Ah, then I’ll simply be intruding on your family. I’ll be just fine waiting up here for you all, I shan’t interrupt,” he nods meekly, but you furrow your brow at him.

“You’re included too, idiot,” you grin affectionately, “now come on!” You wave him out of the door with you and he follows, dumbfounded.

You join your parents in the living room, sitting on the floor by the tree. You pat the spot next to you for Ralph to sit, too, which he does, crossing his legs as he gets comfortable. “What is all of this about?” he asks. “Why are all of the presents tucked behind the tree?”

“We get those out later, so they don’t get confused with these,” you point out the two gifts in front of you. Ralph studies them both, perplexed, and so you explain, “These are our Christmas Eve boxes!”

“Wh- what is a - I didn’t prepare for this,” he mutters to you, looking upset.

“Oh, don’t be! This isn’t an everyone tradition, it’s just something Mum and Dad always did for me, and any friends that’d come over for Christmas Eve,” you shrug. “That includes you!”

Ralph wells up, “I - I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s nothing, really,” your mum waves off. “It’s just some silly things we put together for the night ahead. Gets us all into the Christmas spirit, you know?”

You nudge Ralph’s box towards him and grin. “Ready to open?”

Ralph kicks his knees up and down excitedly, “Yes! Oh,” he stops himself immediately, “but you should go first.”

“We can open them together, you big silly,” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly before placing your hands ready to rip at your gift and looking at Ralph expectantly. He nods, and you both open your boxes at the same time.

As always, there’s a set of Christmassy pyjamas, some fluffy socks, a small packet of hot chocolate along with various toppings and various snacks. Ralph has identical contents. You beam up at your parents, “It’s a movie night this year!” You quickly explain to Ralph that your parents either plan Christmas Eve night to be a movie night, game night or some other activity that they provide the necessities for in your Christmas Eve boxes.

“Yeah, well,” your dad shrugs, “we didn’t want to subject Ralph to a family game night just yet.”

“Yeah, we want him to like us, first!” your mum laughs, and Ralph’s face lights up.

“Oh, please, rest assured, Mrs -”

“Oi!” she interrupts, and Ralph’s face falls again, but she softens immediately. “No formalities here, alright? We’re family here.”

He’s family. Ralph once again battles the urge to cry as he simply states with a smile, “Right, well, there’s certainly no chance of me being anything but eternally grateful for your generosity.”

“Now why can’t you be more like him, eh?” your dad asks jokingly. “How come we get all the sass?”

“Because I was raised by you,” you point out with a smirk, and your dad barks out a loud laugh, ruffling your hair as he does so.

“Go on, away with you both, get yourselves ready!” he ushers you both away and you scoop your box up in your arms as you get up. Ralph does the same, and you tell him to get changed in the bedroom while you go into the bathroom. You meet back in the hallway, and instinctively hold your cheeks at the sight in front of you. Whether it’s the delusion the two of you wearing matching outfits creates, or just the sight of how adorable Ralph looks while drowning in fleece, you frantically regain yourself long enough to take a photo in the big mirror on the wall to send to the group chat before leading Ralph to the kitchen to prepare your snacks.

You make up the hot chocolate for the pair of you while Ralph has the simple task of pouring sweets and snacks into corresponding bowls. Once he’s done, and placed them out in the living room, he returns looking quite proud of himself. “Alright, ready to top off your drink?” You ask as you grab the can of whipped cream out of the fridge, shaking it and squirting a dollop into your mouth for good measure. You point the can at Ralph, who looks at you quizzically before opening his mouth out of curiosity. You give him a mouthful, too, which he tastes with delight spreading over his face. You mirror him. “It’s good, innit?” He nods excitedly and you wave him over to where your two mugs sit. “Okay, so you wanna get it at the right angle, you want it on the drink, but you don’t want it to blow the stuff out of the mug. Got it?” Ralph watches you with great intent, nodding slowly, and you hand the can over to him. “Now you try!”

You really should be utilising the time making sure Ralph gets his aim right, or at least by adding the rest of your favourite toppings, but instead you’re having to spend it restraining yourself from thinking all kinds of thoughts about the way Ralph’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates, especially when it moves around with the nozzle.

It’s only when you notice the pile of whipped cream looking especially tall that you finally grab his wrist with a giggle. He breaks his trance to look over at his compared to yours, and he ends up laughing as well. “Oh, drat, I’ve rather overdone it, haven’t I?”

“Just a little,” you laugh before grabbing your favourite toppings and adding them to your drink.

Your parents laugh when they see the state of your drinks as you and Ralph sit on the sofa together, and you quickly look over to make sure Ralph isn’t offended by it, already planning on your damage control spiel, but he seems to have… Accepted that they aren’t laughing unkindly at him. Your heart swells at the thought that he feels just at home with your family as he does with your friends. If only you could all keep him around all the time.

Despite you being the one to pick out your favourite Christmas movie to show Ralph, it’s hard to concentrate on it when he’s grazing at his whipped cream like a baby cow to grass, especially when some of it gets caught on his nose. You stifle a laugh at that, but he hears and looks over at you in confusion. You swipe it away with your thumb, then suck at your thumb to get it off of yourself as you turn back to watch the movie. Ralph is grateful both that you decided to look away, and that the room is so dimly lit, though his ears burn so harshly they could well be glowing regardless.

You’re not certain how far you made it into the movie before you drifted off to sleep, but you definitely don’t remember being leant against Ralph with a blanket over you at the time, despite that being how you wake up now. As you stir, you jump up suddenly, which alarms Ralph, too. You notice your parents are no longer in the room. “Ah, finally, I was going to, um, perhaps try and wake you myself so that you weren’t down here all night,” Ralph explains.

“Too used to sleeping on sofas these days,” you smile sleepily, and Ralph chuckles under his breath. “How come you’re still here?”

“Well, I’m at the end of the seat, so you would have just… You know…” Ralph mimics the motion of you falling flat onto the couch cushion with his hand, making you giggle. “Can’t have that. I, um, pulled the blanket over from the back of the seat, too. I hope that’s okay with your parents.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Blankets are for sleeping under.”

“Yes, but… I didn’t know if it was just there for decoration,” he explains.

You shake your head. “Ralph, mate, we’re not rich enough to have decorative shit and purposeful shit. It’s all… Shit,” you shrug with a laugh. You flash your phone up to check the time, “Ooh, it’s almost midnight, we’d better go upstairs before Santa gets down here!”

“You know he isn-” Ralph cuts himself off and starts again, softer this time. “You really do get into the whole Christmas thing, don’t you?”

You shrug as you both climb the stairs, “It’s all about spending time with loved ones and showing each other you care.” Loved ones. Loved. Ralph has to squeeze his thumbs to make sure he doesn’t visibly show any kind of reaction to those words.

You clamber into your old bed, and Ralph does so into his little camping bed for the night. “Goodnight,” he calls. “Pleasant dreams.”

“You too, Ralphie.”

The next morning, you wake up super early, as per usual for you. No matter how old you get, the excitement of Christmas morning never leaves you. You happily text all of your friends a Merry Christmas and catch up on some social media posts, silently reminding yourself to make sure you get a good photo of Ralph later for his.

He stirs not long after you, looking up at you and smiling sleepily. “I guessed you’d wake early. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” you grin. “Ugh, yeah, but now Mum and Dad insist on having a “lie-in” and having “breakfast first”,” you make air quotes with your fingers and roll your eyes.

“Well, if you wanted to exchange some gifts early, I could, um… Well… There’s one that I can give and another that’s… Sort of… More abstract,” Ralph stammers, looking and feeling around for his bag.

“Calm it, Ralph, it’s okay. Here, can I give you mine first, and then you can figure out all the… Logistics of yours?” You gesture around with your hands, and he nods.

You take his present out of your bag and hand it to him, and he immediately frowns. “This looks big. Little on the heavy side, too.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you smirk.

“Well, I should rather hope you didn’t spend too much on me, since you’ve already done more than eno- Oh, heavens!” Ralph exclaims as he reveals his present. “Is this -” You nod with a grin, and he gasps. “But, how could you - I mentioned seeing it one time when we met up for lunch that day weeks ago, I - This must have cost a small fortune -”

“Hey, having other friends in the same industry helps. I got it for cheaper than you’d have seen it for, if that makes you feel better accepting it.”

“I should very much like to try it on, but perhaps while wearing something a little more… Dignified,” he says softly as he admires the coat you’d picked out for him. “Anyway!” He folds it very, very carefully and then protrudes his ukulele from his bag, plucking at strings to make sure it’s still in tune.

You gasp excitedly, “Ralph, did you write me a song?”

“Oh, heavens, no, I could never write a song worthy of all you have done for me!” He shakes his head violently. “No, but, well… I know we’ve sort of… Never really spoken about, about that weekend that we were away, but I knew that I would only say the wrong things, and… And on the drive back, Anna had told me that sometimes songs exist to put words to things that you can’t do yourself, and so… I mean, of course, not all of the lyrics, pertain, but enough of them say what I want them to… Oh, fiddlesticks, I’m rambling now…”

You cock your head to look at him with a humoured grin. “Ralph… Can I guess who the original singer of whatever you’re about to sing is?”

His ears tint pink. “Can I just… Play it, please?” he asks nervously.

You nod sincerely. “Of course. The stage is yours.”

Ralph starts playing a song you recognise as Afterglow by, of course, Taylor Swift. You’ve heard the song on occasion, but coming from Ralph, with nothing but his strings accompanying him, the lyrics really start to hit close to home. “I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue / Put you in jail for something you didn't do” … “It's all me in my head, I'm the one who burned us down, but it's not what I meant, sorry that I hurt you / I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you / I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you” … “I lived like an island, punished you with silence / Went off like sirens, just crying”

Other lyrics sound an absolute delight in Ralph’s voice. If it weren’t for his little disclaimer that not all of the words echoed his thoughts, you could have convinced yourself he was singing to you. “Why'd I have to break what I love so much?” … “Just wanna lift you up and not let you go / This ultraviolet morning light below / Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh” … “Tell me that you're still mine / Tell me that we'll be just fine” … “Tell me that it's not my fault / Tell me that I'm all you want”

You’re moved close to tears by the time he finishes, but you still make sure you applaud him, in fear of making him think you feel anything less than an immense appreciation for him. “That was… Beautiful, Ralphie. Thank you,” you mutter quietly, trying to hold yourself together. “But… You know, you don’t need to shoulder all of the blame for that night, right? I was bang out of order, too, it was just a lot of built-up stress and - and alcohol, and -” You shake your head. “Anyway. Those words are… So sweet. Too sweet. It wasn’t all you. And look! We didn’t lose anything, right? And we’re not gonna.” The last part catches in your throat. You are gonna lose him, eventually. Whenever Homeless Pete informs you of your doomed fate. You instead pull Ralph in for a hug to show your gratitude.

Ralph can see something bothers you about the words that you’ve said. Now is the time, he tells himself, giving himself a little pep talk. Now he can tell you all about what happened, why he went ‘missing’ that weekend. He can tell you that he’s here to stay, as long as you want him to.

But instead he watches you push him out of the hug, hold him at arms’ length and shake your head. “No, that’s it, I’m not getting any more upset or else I’ll get your nice new PJs all snotty. From now on, that weekend is a banned topic of conversation. We’ve both said our piece, now. There’s no need to revisit it. Deal?” You hold your pinky out at him.

Defeatedly, he links his little finger with yours. “A promise,” he says with a nod, before realising. “Oh, heavens! There’s another part to your gift, isn’t there!”

You frown, “Mate, you’ve only had one paycheck so far, I hope you haven’t blown it all on me!”

“Not all of it, um… This is more of a… Well, I spent more in effort than I did in money, let’s put it that way.” He leans down to pick up a small parcel that now rests on the fold-out bed, that you open to find a small binder. About the size of your palm, but longer. You start to flip through the coloured slips of card kept in the plastic wallets of the binder. This coupon entitles you to: a night out at that jazz club we liked. “Apologies,” Ralph pipes up, reading over your shoulder to see which one you’re looking at, “I forgot the name of the club itself. But you know where I mean. They’re all colour-coded, so the purple ones mean ones where we go out somewhere, blue means I do something around the house - something big, mind you, we share the jobs, I haven’t forgotten - green are to do with yo- our friends, yellow are…” He scrunches his face up as he tries to remember, “Oh! Yellow is for more fun things to do that don’t cost much, orange ones are ones that have a time limit on them, and red, well… Red are… I’m not sure how to explain them."

You thumb through the binder. This coupon entitles you to: one three-course meal cooked by me* *My cooking will be fully supervised by a separate third party. This coupon entitles you to: a full-group picnic that I will facilitate. This coupon entitles you to: a phone-free movie marathon evening. This coupon entitles you to: Exactly three days’ access to that blue jumper you like so much.

You bark out a laugh at that last one, “Only three days at a time?!”

Ralph pulls a face, “Be thankful you’re getting any days without guaranteed complaint!”

“True,” you nod in acceptance. You flip to the first red coupon and your heart sinks. This coupon entitles you to: kick me out of the flat for a whole day. “Ralph…” you state quietly, sadly.

“Yes, well…” Ralph’s voice is stilted, too. “I know that I’m an awful lot to be around, and I’m not saying that for pity’s sake! But if you ever need a day all to yourself, you can just… Hand me one of those, and I’ll find something to do with myself instead.”

You look through all the red slips. Several entitle you to a Ralph-free day, as well as switching you both between the sofa and then bed for a period of time left blank for you to determine. Another few simply state that they entitle you to tell Ralph to stop talking. “Why would I want that from you?” you ask softly, showing him that coupon specifically.

He shrugs, “Well… If I’m prying too much, say, into things that are too personal, instead of arguing again, you can just give me this and I’ll have received the message, loud and clear.”

You nod slowly, and Ralph’s eyes widen as you start taking out red slip after red slip. You look him dead in the eye and say, “I respect the time and effort you put into these, but,” you grab a handful of them and rip them in half, “you’re gonna have to think of a new thing for reds to be. Sorry.” You keep ripping them up until there is no more entitlement to suppress Ralph being Ralph. “I do love all of the others, though. Really. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Once again feeling the urge to cry, you hug him again. This time, it’s tighter. It’s warmer. It doesn’t seem to have an end.

Until you finally hear your parents call you down for breakfast.

After you’ve all eaten, and you and Ralph have cleared up the kitchen for your parents, you make your way to the tree, where your parents have sorted out three small piles. Ralph looks perplexed at the small box left over. “You seem to have forgotten one, should I put it with - Oh,” his eyes widen as he picks it up and reads the words To Ralph written on the label. Looking up at your parents, he shakes his head. “Oh, p- please, you and your family have already shown me far too much generosity, and I haven’t got a single thing to share with you -”

Your dad waves him off, “We’ve heard that you’ve been in a bad spot up until now, and just thought you deserve a little something nice to see the year off with.”

“Why don’t you start us off, dear?” your mum encourages him to unwrap his gift, and he does so tenderly, looking agape at the box as it’s revealed.

“Oh, wow, what a beautifully packaged - Well, that smells delightful!” he chirps as he takes a small bottle out from the box.

You look at your parents incredulously. “So, when I’d known you for all eight years of my life at the time, and I asked you lot for a Furby, you got me some cheap knockoff from the market that was definitely possessed by the devil since it wouldn’t shut up even after we took the batteries out, but you know Ralph for five minutes and you give him -” You glance over at the bottle filled with a viscous purple liquid to read the label and then look back at them - “Dior soap?!”

“Well, yeah, we like him better,” your dad teases, laughing loudly.

“We just… Have a bit more money these days, and like you said to us, he deserves to be spoiled a little after the time he’s had,” your mum simpers.

“Yeah, well, next year I want my Furby,” you grin, taking the bottle from Ralph’s hands and smelling the lid. “Oh my god, that smells amazing!”

“Doesn’t it, though!” your mum chirps. “And, get this, the main reason we bought it was because we saw the photos of him that you’d sent us, and the man on the adverts for that particular scent -”

Your dad interrupts her with a groan, rolling his eyes. “Here we go again, you know what your mother’s like for her lookalikes.”

“What do you mean!” Your mum frowns at him. “He did look like Ralph!”

“You expect me to trust the same person who thinks Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Gosling look identical?” You raise your eyebrows at her, and she frowns.

“They’re very easy to mix up!” she defends.

Once presents are open, it’s time for your favourite part of the day. You’re not sure what brought on your insistence on this tradition, but you’d warned Ralph ahead of time, and he’d gone on a little shopping spree with Scott to pick out his “fancy outfit” that has been the dress code for your family Christmas dinner for as long as you can remember, now.

Once again, you opt for the bathroom as your changing room of choice, and tell Ralph to meet in the hallway when you’re both ready. Feeling confident that you’re looking especially ready for the family photos this year, and excited for Ralph to be included in them, nothing could prepare you for what he’s dressed in.

You rack your brain trying to remember a time when you’d ever told Scott of the ideal outfit you’d always imagined your ideal partner wearing whenever you’d envisioned these fancy family dinners. Because here Ralph is, in a powder-blue dress shirt with just a few buttons undone, underneath a brown striped sweater vest paired with brown corduroys. His now-classic neck chain and rings adorn him. You try not to let your jaw hit the floor as you see him looking… Absolutely everything you’d spent your life imagining your perfect partner would look like.

“My goodness, you look… Radiant,” he gushes to you.

“Thank you! You’re looking especially handsome yourself,” you allow yourself that compliment to him. It’s a perfectly normal thing to say to your friends. You’d say it to any of yours. Definitely. Justifying yourself to your internal monologue is a completely normal thing to do.

You take some photos of him for his Instagram, though only one makes it:

The family dinner is as amazing as always. Ralph finally looks at ease around your parents as everyone compares Christmas cracker jokes, and your parents regale stories of past Christmases with you to him, to Ralph’s delight.

It seems such a shame to have to leave this little bubble, but unfortunately, the real world awaits. As does the next week of Pure Retail Hell that is the Boxing Day sales. You leave shortly after dinner so as to get plenty of rest in tonight.

Ralph gasps with delight as he realises, “I can wear my new coat with an outfit this nice!” Just when you thought the outfit was enough to see you off, it being topped off with the long, tan coat you’d bought him makes you want to grab it by the lapels, push him against the wall and kiss him until his brain short-circuits.

Instead, you focus on one particular feature of it, “Oh my god, it’s so swishy!”

Ralph looks at you, perplexed. “Swishy?!”

“Yeah! Like, look, go like this,” you rock yourself from side to side, mimicking the motion you’re expecting the coat to make with your hands. Ralph copies you, and positively giggles as he watches the swishing in motion.

“Look at it go!” He practically twirls himself around your parents’ hallway as you say your goodbyes.

“Keep hold of that one,” your mum says into your ear as she hugs you. “He’s a good’un.”

Your dad echoes a similar sentiment of, “Well, I don’t hate him.”

~~~

The next week is a blur of non-stop sales, returns, and most of all, Karens. You’re relieved to finally get a day off on the 31st, which is when you and your friends have decided to celebrate your own Christmas together.

Ralph insists that he will give everyone their own gifts as soon as he can afford to, to which everyone waves him off. “You’ve given me the gift of being able to yell about Taylor Swift to someone who has no idea what I’m on about. That’s all I’ll ever need,” Anna grins at him, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, and now I’ve got a new best mate to jam out with!” Connor nudges Ralph with his elbow. “Your uke’s just the beginning, wait until I teach you the guitar, and then, oh! We’ll be unstoppable, you and me!”

“Yeah, where would any of us be without our Ralphie, eh?” Grace asks, simpering at him.

“So, with all that being said…” Scott protrudes a final gift and hands it to Ralph. “We all clubbed together to get you something from all of us.”

“Not again!” Ralph wells up, looking at you sadly, but you grin.

“Go on, then! Open it!” you encourage him, and once again a familiar box appears beneath the wrapping paper.

“Oh! This is just like the soap your parents bought me, isn’t it?” Ralph asks, and you study the box.

“Yeah, but this is an actual aftershave, so you can smell like it even more now!” you explain.

“Aww, no more lemony Ralph,” Grace mutters sadly as Connor realises something.

“Did your parents happen to suggest that one because they thought the guy advertising it looked familiar?” Connor asks with a wicked grin, leaning towards Anna, whose face falls.

“Oh no, please don’t tell me your mum and I both thought the same person looked like the same person,” she groans, and you laugh.

“Don’t you think that Harry Potter kid was so good as Frodo in Lord of the Rings?” Connor teases in an impression of your mum, and the whole group laughs.

“Okay, in Mum’s defence, that’s one of her better comparisons,” you comment.

Anna frowns as she spots something poking out from underneath your kitchen counter. She goes to investigate and her curiosity becomes absolute glee as she protrudes the fake mistletoe from where you’d forgotten to pick it up and tidy it up. “What’s this doing here, then?!”

“Piss off,” you laugh, chasing her around the flat trying to take it from her, but she passes it onto Connor who brandishes it proudly.

“Ooh, I was wondering why this wasn’t in its usual spot! Who’ve you been smooching, hmm?” He waves it in your face as you approach him to snatch it out of his hand.

“Nobody! That’s why it’s been forgotten down there!” you frown.

“Yes, I think that’s rather my doing, I… I picked it up and then learned what it’s used for and I didn’t want anything… Presumptuous to occur,” Ralph admits, faltering as the sentence goes on. You don’t see the looks your friends all give each other as you frantically put it away in the first drawer you can find and usher them out.

“Okay, okay, this isn’t getting all the food and drink ready for later before all the shops shut, now, is it?”

As the day turns into night, you and Ralph get ready to celebrate at Connor’s. His place is the biggest, after all, and his housemates are all braving the bars of London on New Year’s Eve. You and your friends are all happy enough just bringing various platters of food and drinks each and ringing the new year in together.

Ralph insists on wearing his Christmas outfit again, much to your own dismay. You’ve already been ribbed enough by your friends over a simple plastic decoration, if they spot any sign of you showing any kind of genuine affection for Ralph then it’s all over. They’d want to play wingman, and you’d have to admit that you can’t pursue him. You’d have to tell them why, and admit that you’ve been lying to them for almost four months.

When you do show up at Connor’s, everyone’s obviously obsessed with Ralph’s outfit. Scott constantly makes sure some of the praise is returned back to him for choosing the clothes. You keep yourself busy while Ralph’s the main topic of conversation by organising all the food that everyone’s brought.

Several hours, several plates of food and several drinks later, the TV’s on with 10 minutes to go until midnight. Once you excuse yourself to the bathroom before the big countdown, everyone else nods to each other, setting their own plan in action. Connor and Grace each take a spot either side of Ralph, grinning as they simultaneously stretch out a, “Heeeey.”

“Hello,” Ralph looks at them both, confused.

“So, don’t know if you know this, what with you being all… Shut off from the modern world or whatever you had going on,” Connor starts. “But… There’s this sort of… Tradition when it comes to New Year's.”

“Of course, you kiss your loved ones. I’m not completely out of touch, we had that one growing up as well,” Ralph admits with amusement.

“Right, but obviously not all of us are loved up, see,” Connor continues.

“So, those that aren’t, can still get in on it, because obviously it’s bad luck for the whole year if you don’t get kissed at midnight,” Grace manages to keep a straight face as she lies to Ralph. “And we’re really superstitious here.”

“Y- You are?” He asks, his eyes darting between the two nervously.

“Yeah, but it’s easily avoided,” Grace wraps her arms around one of Ralph’s. “If you’re single, and it’s midnight, you just kiss the closest single person to you,” she looks up at him hopefully.

Ralph feels his mouth go dry. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. And flattered as I may be, mate, I don’t think it’s gonna be me,” Connor laughs.

“Right. Well, I appreciate you for keeping me in the loop,” Ralph nods, and the pair return the gesture, smiling coyly at each other before running off.

Two minutes to go. Everyone that’s brought a date is actively chatting away to them. Ralph is standing by the wall, anxiously looking around. You make yourself busy by making yourself another drink, and Scott notices, peeling himself away to quickly jog over to you. “Hey, uh, I think Ralph was looking for you.”

You frown, “Is he alright? He’s not gotten drunk already?”

“No! He won’t say what’s up, you know what he’s like, he’s in one of those where he doesn’t want to call for you, but we can all tell he wants something. Y’know? And you know him better than anyone. Better hurry it up, though,” Scott adds with a slight grimace before running back to his partner.

It takes a moment to find him, skulking in the outskirts of the room. He doesn’t even notice you approach until you nudge his arm. “You alright?” you ask him, and he looks at you like a deer in headlights.

“Um… Uh… Well, yes, but rather… Oh…” He flounders as everyone starts chanting a countdown from 10. Ralph licks his lips, his eyes flicking down to yours before quickly snapping back up to gauge your reaction nervously.

It almost seems too perfect. He smells of his new aftershave, all woody and floral but still that classic citrus note remains. He’s wearing that outfit. His big brown eyes are almost enough distraction from the way the tip of his tongue pokes out to trace his lips, but not quite enough. You feel your breath getting heavier as the sound of your friends shouting drowns every other thought in your head.

“- 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 –!”

A/N: I know. I'm the worst. Happy New Year, babies. ;)

next chapter

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters x you #ralph timewasters fanfic #ralph timewasters imagine #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury fanfic #ralph penbury imagine #ralph timewasters fluff #ralph penbury fluff #bsbl #fic: bsbl #*myfics

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cheerscoops · 6 months ago

Text

Wherever You Point To I’ll Find ~ Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Nobody expected a budding romance between Steve and Chrissy when they were invited on this graduation road trip. But, as the two spend more and more time together away from the pressures their families, they just might find that they’re the perfect match.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: modern au, road trip, mutual pining, fluff, angst, discussion of mental health and body issues, eventual smut, adult themes and swearing throughout

Word Count: 12.2k

It was nearly impossible for Chrissy to get Steve up for the day, and she really only had herself to blame. Instead of staying up after the sunrise, she’d pulled him back to bed because she wasn’t ready for him to stop holding her just yet. She’d had the realization that admitting her feelings to him could make this all go away if he didn’t feel the same way about her, and she selfishly wanted to hold on to the daydream of being his for as long as she possibly could. And if that meant snuggling up to him in bed for just a little longer, that's exactly what she was going to do.

But a quick glance towards the clock on the nightstand told her that Nancy and Eddie would be expecting them downstairs for breakfast soon, and that meant that getting ready for the day and making sure their bags were packed was a necessity.

“We really should be getting up now,” she told him. “Unless you want Eddie to break the door down and drag us out.”

“I'd like to see him try.”

He hugged her to his chest a little tighter, making no moves to get up.

“Or maybe Nancy will have him hotwire your car and leave us stranded here.”

“They wouldn't. They like you too much.”

“But they don't like you enough?”

“Not as much as they like you.”

Chrissy rolled over in his arms to face him - their faces so close that their noses were practically touching - and frowned at him.

“That's not true. You were part of this trip from the start, so you're clearly the favorite.”

“Don't make me force you to put another dollar in the jar.”

“That was not a dig at myself, and you know it. You can't make me give you a dollar for that.”

“Yes, I can. That's the beauty of the jar. I made it, so I get to make all the rules. Perfectly sound logic if you ask me.”

“You're terrible.”

“Am I really all that bad?” he asked.

She knew that the smile on her face betrayed her true thoughts, but she took a page from Eddie's book and committed to the bit.

“The absolute worst actually,” she teased.

“It must really suck for you to be trapped here then. Since I'm obviously so repulsive,” he teased right back.

“Careful, Steve. This is the second morning in a row where you've refused to let me get out of bed. I'm starting to think you might have ulterior motives here.” She repeated his words from the night before hoping that he'd stay in on the joke with her.

“Maybe I do.”

And just like that, the teasing nature of their conversation was gone, and this all felt far too real and intimidating for her. It would be so easy for her to admit that she wanted him to have ulterior motives. That she had them, too, and that everything in her was screaming to tell him how she really felt. Her gaze flicked down to his lips for just a moment, and she was struck by just how easy it would be for her to close the almost nonexistent gap between them and kiss him. She could feel his warm breath on her skin, and every second that she stayed quiet felt like an eternity as she struggled between what she wanted to do and what she should do. And while what she wanted was for him to kiss her until she was breathless and stupid enough that she forgot her own name, she knew that what she needed to do was get out of that bed immediately and put some distance between them before the impulsive parts of her ruined everything.

She couldn't tell him how she felt while they were in bed together. Logically, she knew that Steve was nothing like Jason, and she didn't think he'd try to pressure her into something more if she admitted her true feelings, but that fear was still there with its ever-present and aching gnawing feeling. And she couldn't explain these fears without telling Steve about her whole messy relationship, and that would mean admitting things to him that she'd never told anyone. Not even Eddie who she normally told everything, and he was the one who'd held her hand through her breakup. She couldn't be that open and vulnerable with Steve until she knew for sure that she could trust him with her heart.

She also knew that they had to get out of bed, but if that happened because Steve was pushing her away in disgust or anger over the fact that she wouldn't put out, it would absolutely destroy her. She wasn't equipped to handle that kind of rejection. Not when she knew they still had so much time to spend together on this trip. She still planned on telling him how she felt that day, but this wasn’t the right moment no matter how much she wanted it to be.

So, instead of doing what she really wanted, she let her panic take over as she lifted Steve's arm off of her and climbed out of bed.

“I'm going to go get dressed,” she said as she grabbed her bag off of the spare bed. “You should probably do the same.”

She avoided looking at him as she ran into the bathroom, but if she'd turned to face him for just a moment, she would have seen him looking confused and a little hurt by her actions.

***

Steve spent the better part of the morning silently kicking himself for whatever he did that scared Chrissy away. He was just keeping up with what he thought was a bit of playful flirting, but the second he tried to hint at how he really felt, she froze on him and ran away. He’d been thinking that she felt the same way, but now she had him second guessing every interaction he’d had with her and looking for anything he could have missed that would have resulted in her fleeing the bed like he really was repulsive to her.

He was so deep in thought that he barely spoke during breakfast, and he didn’t react at all when Eddie convinced Chrissy to put on his personal Motionless in White mix. He almost missed Nancy asking him to stop for a bathroom break, too, but Eddie kicked the back of his seat and snapped him out of it for long enough that he was able to find a decent place for them to stop.

Chrissy ran off to the bathroom with Nancy, and as soon as they were out of earshot, Eddie was practically diving over the center console to climb up into Chrissy’s seat.

“What is up with you today?” he asked as he situated himself. “You’ve been zoned out this whole time, and we were starting to worry you were gonna crash the car.”

“It’s nothing,” Steve replied. “Just something stupid.”

“Well, is it stupid, or is it nothing? Because I don’t think it can be both.”

“I think I messed up with Chrissy, and I don’t know what I did, so it’s messing with my head a little.”

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

“That depends on how much of a dick you’re going to be.”

“How much of a dick I am depends on what you did to her.”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t do anything to her. At least, I don’t think I did.”

Steve let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

“Are you really sure she likes me?” he asked after a moment. “I know you said she was interested the other day, but I’m getting whiplash from how back and forth she seems to feel about me.”

“What’s happened since we last talked about this? Give me the cliff’s notes version.”

Steve laid it all out in the most basic of terms. He told Eddie about their heart to heart on the beach and how they had bonded over their shitty parents. He told him about the joking and the tickle fights and falling asleep cuddling. The only thing he left out was Chrissy’s wish from the sunrise. That felt almost too personal to share. Like it needed to be kept a secret for just the two of them or it wouldn’t be as special. But everything else was laid out for Eddie to decipher for him.

“And when she asked me if I had ulterior motives, I said that maybe I did, and that’s when she freaked out, and it’s been killing me that I can’t figure out what happened. There was this split second where I thought she was gonna kiss me, but she didn't, and I don't know how I could have misread the situation that badly.”

“So let me see if I have this straight,” Eddie said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You thought that trapping Chrissy in bed with you and then telling her you had ulterior motives for doing so was a good idea? Even though you know she scares easily and has been shy about even holding your hand for prolonged periods of time?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I might actually be the biggest idiot on the planet.”

“Maybe not the biggest idiot, but yeah, I think you’re going about this all wrong. Nancy and Chrissy would both probably punch me for using such bullshit reasoning, but Chrissy isn’t like the other girls you’ve tried to hook up with lately, and you’re operating under your normal King of Hawkins High methods that had all those other girls falling at your feet and swooning even though you were wearing that ridiculous sailor suit. Maybe just apologize to her for making her uncomfortable? I don’t know. I’m rooting for you, but short of grabbing you both by the back of the head and forcing you to kiss like a couple of real life Barbie dolls, I’m not sure what else I can do to help since you won’t let me talk to her for you.”

Before Steve could respond, Chrissy was opening the passenger door and frowning when she saw Eddie was in her seat.

“It’s my turn to ride shotgun,” Eddie told her. “I wanna be the passenger princess.”

“But I like sitting up front with Steve.”

“Tough.”

“Fine. I’ll just tell Nancy you didn’t love her enough to help her decide what drink to get when she specifically asked me to go get you for her.”

“You're evil.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Touche. I’d probably be proud if I wasn’t the one on the receiving end of this.”

Eddie hopped out of the car allowing Chrissy to take her seat back. As soon as she’d shut the door, Steve turned to her.

“Listen. I’m sorry about -” was all that he managed to say before she placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

“Don’t apologize,” she told him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I think I’m the one who owes you an apology actually. I can’t get into it now because I really don’t want to end up talking about it in front of Eddie and Nancy, but I need you to know that me running away this morning had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I promise I’ll explain myself eventually, but for now, can this be enough?”

“Yeah, it can be enough,” he told her. He moved to rest his hand on her knee, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the skin there. “So, what I said didn’t upset you?”

“I promise it didn’t. Have all the ulterior motives you want. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have them too.”

“Really?”

Chrissy didn’t have time to answer before Nancy and Eddie got back in the car, and Steve didn’t dare press her about it in front of them. He was just happy that she was willing to open up to him about whatever was bothering her even if he had to wait to hear her explanation.

They settled back into their normal driving routine for the rest of their trip to DC. The only noticeable difference was that Steve’s hand barely left Chrissy’s knee for the duration, and neither of them was complaining about that. Little did they know that it had caused a frenzied group text between Eddie, Nancy, and Robin. They were oblivious to the effect that their budding courtship seemed to have on their friends.

When they arrived at the bed and breakfast that Nancy had selected for them, Steve and Chrissy both tried to hide their disappointment at the fact that they weren’t going to be sharing a room this time. They knew that sharing at the last place was only going to be a one time thing, but knowing that did nothing to stop the longing.

Chrissy was the first to finish settling in, so she went out to the common living area to wait for the others. There was an old couple sitting on one of the plush sofas, and they immediately started fussing over her as she took a seat in one of the armchairs.

“Oh, look at her, Fred,” the woman said. “She's like a little doll. Isn't she just darling?”

“Yes, dear,” Fred said as he glanced up from his paper. “Absolutely darling.”

“I’m Ethel, and this is my husband Fred.”

“I’m Chrissy. It’s lovely to meet you,” Chrissy replied with a small smile.

“Oh, she’s so polite,” Ethel said. “It’s lovely to meet you, too, dear. Fred and I are both retired, and we just love spending our time at little bed and breakfasts like this because we always meet the most wonderful people. We saw you check in with your friends. What brings your little group here?”

“We’re celebrating our high school graduation,” Chrissy told them. “Well, Nancy, Eddie, and I are, at least. Steve graduated last year. I think everyone just wanted one last big adventure before we all separate in the fall.”

“How exciting! What are you planning on studying in college?”

“Theater. Maybe with a minor in education or childhood development of some sort? I just know that theater is my real passion, and I’d like to do something with it for the rest of my life.”

“An actress! Oh, my Kenny would just adore you. Don’t you think that Kenny would adore her, Fred?” she asked her husband who just nodded in response. “Our grandson is about to start his third year of pre-med at Harvard. He wants to be a pediatric surgeon, so you know he’s smart and good with kids. And just so handsome, but maybe I’m biased because he’s my only grandson. You’re not dating either of the boys that came here with you, are you?”

“Eddie is basically my brother,” Chrissy told her. “And he’s Nancy’s boyfriend, so I’m definitely not seeing him.”

She hesitated when it came to putting a label on Steve though. She was already confused about why she was being so open with this random elderly couple, but Ethel reminded her of her own nana, so she guessed that was why it came so easily. But how could she tell them that she and Steve were in this weird limbo of not being together but acting like they desperately wanted to be? She could barely work out what was going on for herself let alone explain it to complete strangers.

“And Steve is -”

“You’re talking about me?”

Chrissy was interrupted by Steve entering the room and moving to perch on the arm of the chair that she was sitting in. He smiled down at her as he asked his question.

“Just telling my new friends Fred and Ethel about how you’re the worst person I’ve ever met,” she teased beaming up at him.

“So mean.”

“I think I’m the nicest person ever actually.”

Steve stuck his tongue out at her, and she responded by doing the same.

“You see how she treats me?” Steve asked the older couple, keeping his tone teasing and light. “The absolute disrespect.”

Chrissy reached over to tickle his side, and Steve flinched before sliding off of the armrest and onto the seat with Chrissy. While the chair was slightly larger than normal, it wasn't really big enough for two people to share comfortably if they were sitting side by side. Steve made quick work of maneuvering the two of them so that Chrissy was sitting sideways with her legs draped over his lap, and she instinctively curled into his side.

“If you're done being a menace, can I get back to talking to my new friends?” she asked. “I feel like we're being awfully rude.”

Steve made a show of acting like he was pulling a zipper closed across his mouth and gestured for her to continue talking.

“What I was trying to say is that Steve and I didn't really meet until this trip, but I've been enjoying getting to know him better along the way,” Chrissy told the older couple.

“How far into the trip are you?” Ethel asked.

“A week. We’ve got two more weeks of adventures planned, and then it’s back home for the rest of the summer.”

“Only a week? I would have assumed the two of you had known each other for much longer than that with how comfortable you seem to be together.”

“Permission to speak?” Steve asked.

Chrissy nodded.

“I can’t speak for Chrissy,” he started, “but I personally feel like I’ve known her a lot longer than that. She’s just really easy to talk to, and she makes everyone feel like they’re the most important person in the room when she’s focusing on them. I’ve really been enjoying getting to know her better, too, and as we spend more time together, I only want to know her more.”

Chrissy could feel her heart getting ready to burst. She felt the same way about Steve, but she hadn’t been able to find the words to articulate it.

“Okay, maybe you aren’t actually the worst,” she teased, trying to hide the fact that his words had her glowing.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Aren’t you two just the sweetest?” Ethel said, interrupting their moment. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“The Natural History Museum for sure,” Steve told her. “And then maybe another museum or two before dinner if we have the time? Depends on how soon we can get there.”

“Where are Eddie and Nancy anyway?” Chrissy asked. “I didn’t expect them to take this long to settle in.”

“When I left them, Eddie had taken off his pants and declared that he was taking a nap instead of going to any museums, so I‘m guessing that Nancy is trying to get him up again.”

“Sounds about right.”

The two continued talking to the elderly couple for a little while longer. It was mostly Ethel asking questions about their plans for the rest of the trip and a little about Chrissy’s college plans and the jobs that Steve was applying for once they were back home, but Steve spent the entire time doting on Chrissy. When she’d curled into his side, he’d wrapped an arm around her waist, and his other arm laid over her legs. Every so often, he’d pull the hem of her skirt down to protect her modesty when it rode up due to the way she was sitting, and every time he did so, she could feel electricity wherever his fingers grazed her thighs. It was such a simple gesture, but it meant so much more to her than she could say. She felt cared for in a way that was so unfamiliar to her that it almost made her sad. To think that no one else had ever taken her comfort into account without her even having to say anything was heartbreaking, but it was hard for her to feel anything but warm and fuzzy when Steve was holding her like this.

When Eddie and Nancy finally made their way out to the sitting area, Chrissy was reluctant to get up. It wasn’t like she was going to confess her feelings for him right there in front of their friends and two relative strangers, but she longed to stay sitting there with him holding her like that. She couldn’t admit it out loud, but this was slowly becoming her new favorite place to be, and she wanted to spend as much time there as humanly possible. She just hoped that he felt the same way.

One short walk and a metro ride later, the group was standing on the front steps of the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History.

“How long do you think you guys will want to spend here?” Nancy asked.

“That depends on how long my secret mission is going to take,” Chrissy said with a shrug.

“It’s not going to be in the natural history museum,” Eddie replied.

“You don’t know that! They could have it here to throw me off!”

“Have what here?” Nancy asked.

“She saw a picture of the Smithsonian’s Muppet storage cabinet online, and she’s convinced that she’s going to be able to find it while we’re here even though it’s probably in a storage facility somewhere and not one of the actual museums,” Eddie told the group. “And while I am typically not above causing a little chaos and potentially breaking into somewhere I’m definitely not allowed to be, I’m pretty sure Wayne would kill me if we got arrested all the way out here.”

“Eddie Munson is actively discouraging me from getting arrested? I never thought I’d see the day,” Chrissy teased.

“Laugh it up. Just imagine how your parents would react if you got arrested because you were trying to steal one of the Fraggles.”

“Party pooper.”

“How about two hours?” Steve suggested. “And if we’re done looking around before that, we can just text the group chat and meet up sooner?”

He leaned in towards Chrissy to whisper in her ear.

“Plenty of time to see the museum and look for your Muppet vault,” he told her. “I’ll make sure you don't get caught. I’m stealthy. Like a ninja.”

Chrissy giggled and pushed him away before beaming up at him. She’d happily let him in on her secret mission even if she knew she wasn’t actually going to be able to find them. He was playful, and he let her be silly in a way that she never got to act in public.

Steve took Chrissy’s hand in his and laced their fingers together.

“We’ve gotta act like we’re actually here to see the museum at first,” he said in a hushed voice. “Blend in with the crowd a little so they don’t realize we’re looking for the perfect heist.”

“Where do you suggest we start?”

“I’ve got the perfect spot.”

Steve led Chrissy through the rotunda and into the David H. Koch Hall of Fossils. It was hard for her not to notice the way he lit up the second they were in the room, and he was eagerly pulling her over to a display where they’d set up a t-rex skeleton to look like it was attacking a triceratops.

“Did you know that the t-rex was actually super smart?” he asked her, not looking away from the fossils in front of them. “I know that a lot of mainstream media likes to play them off as mindless predators or play up the comedy of the whole big head and little arms thing, but their brains were actually twice the size of most other carnivores. And they were fast, too. Not the fastest dinosaurs by any means, but they were fast enough that they could probably catch most humans.”

A quick peek at the plaque in front of them told Chrissy that Steve hadn’t just read this information. It was just something he knew, and he seemed so excited to share this knowledge with her. She tried to pull her phone out in time to snap a quick picture of him looking at the dinosaur bones, but he turned to her before she could, and the photo she ended up getting was of him smiling at her instead.

“Still trying to take sneaky pictures of me?” he teased.

“You just looked so happy,” she told him with a tiny shrug. “I wanted to capture that moment for you.”

Steve pulled Chrissy away from the exhibit to sit on a bench nearby where they could still look around the room.

“Can I tell you something that I’ve never told anyone else before?” he asked her.

She nodded.

“You know how much you love the Muppets?” he started. “Well, that’s how I feel about dinosaurs. That nanny that I told you about got me into them. I was supposed to be taking a nap, but I was an absolute menace as a four year old, so I was not doing that, and I snuck down into the living room to find her watching Jurassic Park. Most kids that little might have been scared, but I was fascinated. I stayed out of sight for the entire movie, and she didn’t realize I was there until I popped up during the credits and asked if we could watch it again. I think I scared a few years off of her life actually.

“I had all of these questions about dinosaurs that she couldn’t answer because the extent of her knowledge began and ended with Jurassic Park. But, maybe a week later, she showed up with this illustrated encyclopedia of dinosaurs. I think I had her read something from it to me every day until I was old enough to read it by myself. I was the dinosaur kid after that. I watched every single one of the Land Before Time movies, and the only things I ever really wanted for gifts were more dinosaur books and dinosaur toys. I had this massive box full of dinosaur figurines, and I gave them all different voices depending on what I thought they would sound like. Because the t-rex had such a big brain, he was sophisticated and British, and the apatosaurus talked kind of like Eeyore because they moved really slow. Just weird little connections I made in my head, you know? I wish I still had them saved because I thought they were the coolest things ever, but my parents threw them out as soon as they decided that I was too old to be playing with toys. Same goes for my illustrated dinosaur encyclopedia.

“And those things are replaceable, so I can always buy new ones to give to any kids I have in the future. I stopped being mad about my mom throwing away stuff years ago because it was pointless when I knew she’d never change. The thing that still upsets me though is the broken promises. Every year, my parents would take me on one family vacation. They took all sorts of trips by themselves and left me with my nanny or by myself once I was old enough to be left alone. But this one trip was the only time I was included, and my mom would always ask me where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do. My answer was always the same: I want to go somewhere where I can see dinosaur bones in person. And every year, I was disappointed. We always went skiing or to some all-inclusive beach resort or something else that was equally boring to me, but my mom would always promise that we’d do what I wanted the next year. I think I was thirteen when I finally stopped believing her.

“That’s when I made a promise that I’d take myself to see the dinosaur bones the first chance I got, and I’d only go with people who were special enough to make it a good experience for me. This is the first time that I’ve actually gotten to see any in person.”

If she thought she could have gotten away with it, Chrissy would have stolen Steve’s car just to race back to Hawkins and destroy something that would have hurt Mrs. Harrington as much as she had clearly hurt her son. But then she was struck by the fact that Steve said he’d only take someone special to see this with him, and she felt her heart swell.

“So, you think I’m special enough to share this experience with you?” she asked.

“Well, yeah,” he said as he squeezed her hand. “I thought I’d made my feelings for you pretty clear by now.”

That was all she needed to hear in order to give herself the final push towards acting on her own feelings. Without hesitation, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against Steve’s cheek. He responded by fully turning towards her and cradling her face in his hand, brushing his thumb along her cheekbone.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Please,” she replied, giving a slight nod.

Her ‘please’ shook him to his very core, and he wasted no time in closing the small gap between them. The instant their lips touched, they both felt fireworks. Maybe it was because they’d both spent the last two days agonizing over and wishing for this very moment, but it was everything that they’d been hoping it would be and more.

When Steve pulled away, he was all smiles.

“Wow.”

“Wow is right,” Chrissy added, unable to contain the giddy giggles that were bubbling up inside of her.

“You know, if taking you to see the dinosaur bones with me was what I needed to do to finally work up the courage to kiss you, maybe it’s not so bad that I had to wait this long to see them.”

Chrissy didn’t respond. Instead, she just pulled him back in for another kiss, positively beaming as she felt him smile against her lips.

“This does make admitting how I feel about you way easier,” she said once they'd pulled apart again.

“Oh yeah? And how do you feel about me?” he asked.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” She could feel a blush warming her cheeks as she started to get shy on him again.

“I think I need to hear it for me to believe any of this is real.”

“This feels so juvenile to say like we're kids on an elementary school playground or something, but it's the only way to accurately describe the way that you make me feel like I have an army of butterflies in my stomach every time you look at me. But the very real truth is that I have a little bit of a crush on you.”

“Only a little bit?”

“Okay, maybe it’s more than a little one,” she said, looking down towards her lap. It was almost as if she’d forgotten where they were for a moment, and she was feeling so exposed because all of this had happened in public. Logically, she knew that no one in the museum cared about what she was doing, but she couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching her.

Steve placed a finger under Chrissy’s chin and tilted her head back up to face him.

“Don’t disappear on me,” he told her.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I was just worried you were going to run away from me again.”

Chrissy took Steve’s hands in hers and took a deep breath.

“This is hard for me,” she told him. “Public displays of affection are hard for me. Whenever the last guy would kiss me in public, it always felt like he was doing it for show or because he was obligated to look like he loved his girlfriend and never because he actually wanted to be kissing me. I was just a pretty little prize for him to show off, and I have a hard time allowing myself to be wanted because of him - no matter how much I actually desperately want you to kiss me again.”

The second they were back in Hawkins, Steve was keying Jason’s car, egging his house, blasting polka music outside his bedroom window at 3 AM - anything he could maybe convince Hopper to look the other way on. How anyone could treat Chrissy like that was baffling to him. Every time she gave him the slightest hint about how Jason used to treat her, the anger he felt bubbling inside him grew stronger, and it only made him want to protect her more. To show her that she deserved to be treated so much better than she believed she did. It was his new goal for the rest of the trip and then for as long as she would allow it after that.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he told her. “We can just get up and look at the rest of this exhibit. I’ll info-dump about dinosaurs a little bit because I can’t help it, and maybe I’ll let you hear what I think all of them would’ve sounded like. And then we can look around the rest of the museum until it’s time for us to meet back up with Nancy and Eddie. I just wanna hold your hand and keep spending time with you - if that’s okay with you of course.”

“That sounds perfect,” she told him. “Really. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. But before we do that, I’d like to kiss you again. Not to show off to all of the other people in this room and not because I feel obligated to, but because it’s the only thing that I’ve been able to think about since we were interrupted on the beach the other night, and I really desperately want to kiss you just as much as you really desperately want to be kissed.”

Chrissy leaned in on instinct, but Steve paused just as their lips were close enough to touch.

“And for the record,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear him, “in case it wasn't already abundantly clear, the feeling is mutual. I have a pretty massive crush on you, too.”

***

When they made their way into the gift shop after they were done looking around the museum, Chrissy ducked away from Steve for a couple minutes. She was on a mission, and since that mission was getting a small gift for him, she didn’t want him to see what she was doing and stop her.

She found what she was looking for in one of the far corners of the gift shop: a bin filled with small dinosaur figurines. She pulled out two matching t-rexes and purchased them without a second thought. It was only once the bag was in her hand that she realized how intimate this gift seemed to her now. He’d literally said that he’d wanted to save his childhood figurines for his own kids. They’d only just shared their first kiss. It was way too soon to give him something so meaningful. She shoved the bag into her purse and told herself to stop getting ahead of herself. She could save them to give to him later.

Just as she’d calmed herself down, Steve approached her holding a bag of his own. He pulled out a small plushie of a capuchin monkey and handed it to her.

“For me?” she asked.

“It made me think of you,” he told her. “Because it’s tiny and cute just like you are.”

“Thank you,” she said as she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “But I’m not that tiny.”

“You just stood on your tiptoes to reach me. I’m pretty sure you’re that tiny.”

“I am a perfectly normal height thank you very much.”

“For an adorable woodland critter maybe,” he teased.

He took one of her hands in his and laid it flat against his palm.

“I mean, just look at how small your hands are compared to mine. You’re all little.”

Chrissy marveled at just how tiny her hand looked in comparison to his, but she couldn’t let him know just how much this size difference affected her.

“I bet you do this with all the girls,” she said as she smirked up at him.

“Maybe,” he replied before moving to lace their fingers together and hold her hand. “But none of the other girls ever made me smile the way you do.”

He brought their linked hands up to his face and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand.

“That was smooth,” she said, looking away from him slightly in an attempt to hide the fact that he had her blushing yet again. “Very smooth.”

“Only for you.”

****

When they met back up with Eddie and Nancy, Steve and Chrissy neglected to tell them what had occurred between them in the fossil room. It wasn’t that they were trying to hide what happened. It just slipped their minds to fill their friends in on the new development in their relationship, and with Steve being respectful of Chrissy’s uneasiness with PDA, it looked as if nothing had changed between them to the uninformed observer. They were just holding hands and teasing each other the same as always.

Maybe Nancy thought it was a little suspicious when Chrissy rested her head on Steve's shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her in their booth at dinner, but she just assumed that they'd developed a certain level of comfortable closeness at this point. Eddie had filled her in on the fact that they'd shared a bed again the night before even though they didn't have to, so this just felt like a natural extension of that. Plus, she didn't want to say anything that would push Chrissy to retreat back into her shell.

It was only when they were back at the bed and breakfast for the night that they realized something had changed between them. They were all standing outside the girls’ room to say their goodnights before separating for the evening. Without thinking, Steve gave Chrissy’s hand a little tug so she’d turn towards him, and then he pulled her in for a goodnight kiss. She melted in his arms, and he couldn’t stop smiling when they pulled away.

“I’ll miss you,” he told her as he wrapped her up in a hug.

“We’re only going to be separated for a few hours.”

“That’s so long though.”

“So needy,” she teased, burying her face in his chest to hide her blush as she hugged him. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

When she hid her face, Steve remembered that Eddie and Nancy were definitely watching them, and he loosened his hold on her.

“I'm sorry. I think that was maybe too much PDA.”

“Maybe a little bit, but I liked it.”

She stood on her tiptoes to give him another quick kiss before reluctantly removing herself from his arms. She barely had time to utter out a quick ‘goodnight' before Nancy was pulling her into their room and ushering her to sit down on one of the beds.

“What was that?” she asked as she moved to sit down next to Chrissy. “What happened between you two?”

Chrissy grabbed one of the pillows and hugged it to her chest.

“He took me to see the dinosaur bones with him,” she said. She was positively glowing with this giddy little lovestruck look in her eyes.

“Is there something secretly romantic about fossils that I'm unaware of?”

“Maybe not to most people, but it was magical. He was just - I don't know. I can't put it into words. I've just never felt like this before, and it's exciting and terrifying and wonderful. So, so wonderful.”

She fell backwards on the bed and moved the pillow to hide her face. Even during the times where she’d thought things were going well between her and Jason, she’d never felt this giddy about any of their interactions. All she could think about was how Steve smiled into every kiss, and she couldn’t wait to feel that again.

She only removed the pillow from her face because her phone pinged with a notification about a text from Steve.

Steve: what would you say to a breakfast date tomorrow morning?

Steve: just the two of us? in our pajamas obviously.

Chrissy: I’d say that sounds wonderful.

Steve: perfect. meet you in the lobby at 7?

Chrissy: see you then

Steve: good night gorgeous

Chrissy: sweet dreams

“You really like him, don’t you?” Nancy asked, taking in the way Chrissy was beaming at her phone.

“I really do. He's kind of the sweetest, isn't he?”

“He can be. What’s he texting you now?”

Chrissy turned her phone towards Nancy and let her read their recent exchange.

“Okay, that’s actually really adorable,” she said once she was done reading. “And he’s getting up early for you which you should know is a very big deal. Steve doesn’t get out of bed before ten unless he absolutely has to.”

“I figured as much. He’s been very cuddly and reluctant to get up the past couple of days.”

“And I’m sure that had nothing to do with the fact that he was snuggled up to the girl he was crushing on,” Nancy teased.

Chrissy moved to hide her face behind her pillow again, but Nancy pulled it away from her and tossed it aside.

“You know, you could bunk with Steve for the rest of the trip if you really wanted to. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind at all, and it seems to me like that’s something that would make you very happy from just how pink your cheeks are right now, so I’d be happy to switch rooms with him.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that for me. I don’t want to make things difficult for anyone else.”

“Ask me to do what? Share a room with my longterm boyfriend who I love very much? I’m pretty sure I’ll find a way to survive that torture. You don’t have to decide right now. Sleep on it and let me know sometime tomorrow. I just think continuing to share a room would make the both of you really happy. Anyway, you can use the bathroom first since you’ve gotta wake up early for your date.”

“I’ll think about it,” Chrissy said as she got up from the bed to grab what she needed for the bathroom. “And thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m really happy for you.”

As Chrissy went through her nighttime routine, she couldn’t help but think about Nancy’s offer. She knew that she was going to miss being able to snuggle up to Steve while she had her bed all to herself that night, but she also felt that it was maybe too forward of her to decide that they should share the same room for the rest of the trip. That could potentially lead her into situations that she didn’t know if she was ready for just yet, and she’d hate to ruin whatever she and Steve were now simply because she’d set him up to be disappointed about how far she was willing to go. She also couldn’t help but think that it was selfish of her to want to share her bed with him without being willing to do everything that sharing a bed with him could lead to.

That didn’t change the fact that that was what she wanted though. She wanted to fall asleep in his arms just like she’d done for the past few nights, and she found herself hoping that he wanted that, too. She’d broach the subject with him at some point the next day and see how he felt about it. If they were feeling the same way, maybe she could work through her roadblocks enough to allow herself that bit of comfort.

***

Chrissy ended up making it to the lobby before Steve did, so she took a seat on one of the sofas to wait for him. No one else was out and about that early other than the front desk staff, so she busied herself with scrolling through her instagram feed while she waited. Anything to distract herself from the fact that her mom would have dropped dead from the shock of seeing her willingly go out in public in her pajamas. Normally, she would have been a little self-conscious about it, but Steve had already seen her in her Barbie t-shirt and plaid pajama shorts when they’d shared a room. Plus, he was going to be in his pajamas, too, so she had no real reason to worry. She could be calm and collected about this.

Soon enough, Steve was sitting down next to her and wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her onto his lap before he’d even said hello.

“Well, hello to you, too,” she giggled as Steve leaned in to kiss her cheek.

He responded by burying his face in her neck and hugging her a little tighter.

“I thought we were going to breakfast?” she asked.

“In a minute,” he replied, making no moves to loosen his hold on her. “I didn’t get my Chrissy cuddles this morning, so I’m not ready to get up yet.”

“Did you really miss me that much?”

He nodded.

“My bed felt really empty after sharing with you the past couple nights. Feels like my whole day started out wrong.”

“I feel the same way,” she admitted. “It was weird not having you there.”

“Think Eddie would notice if I smuggled you into our room tonight? We could wait until he was asleep, and you wake up earlier than he does anyway, so you could sneak out before he gets up. It’s the perfect plan.”

“I have an even better idea, but I think you need to take me to breakfast before I share it.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Steve stood up and pulled Chrissy up with him. With her hand in his, he started to head towards the door, but he paused about halfway there.

“Wait. I haven't given you a real good morning kiss yet,” he said as he turned towards her.

“We should probably fix that.”

“Yeah. We probably should.”

Steve leaned in to kiss her, and when she felt him smile against her lips, she couldn't help but smile in return. She didn't think she'd ever get tired of how happy every kiss seemed to make him.

“Much better,” he said as he pulled away. “Now, we can get breakfast.”

One quick car ride later, and they were parked outside of a cozy-looking diner. Steve got out of the car first and jogged over to Chrissy’s side to open her door for her.

“How'd you find this place?” she asked.

“You think I didn't do research for this?” he asked. “This is technically our first official date. I’ve gotta do things right.”

Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to Chrissy that this was their first date even if that probably should have been obvious to her. Even with him calling it a breakfast date in his text, she hadn’t connected the dots and had been thinking about this as just another instance where they were exploring somewhere separately from their friends. The aquarium and the natural history museum hadn’t been dates either, but both of those excursions had ended with Steve gifting her a plushie which was a very date-like thing to do. Hearing him actually call this one a date changed everything, and it only made her more self-conscious about the fact that she was wearing her pajamas in public. But, Steve was wearing his pajamas, too. If he could go out in public like that without caring what other people thought, she could do the same. And, as he took her hand in his to walk her into the diner, she only felt more confident in that fact. He wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with her looking like that. He wanted people to know they were together. That was all the reassurance she needed.

As they walked into the diner, Steve noticed that Chrissy’s eyes lingered on the chalkboard sign out front that was advertising that day’s special: blueberry pancakes with maple syrup and homemade whipped cream. But, when it came time for them to order, she chose a small fruit and yogurt parfait instead. He had a feeling he knew what was going on in her head. From what she’d told him on the beach, he knew she was probably hearing her mother berating her for even thinking about ordering something with that many calories. He briefly thought about making her put a dollar in the jar for that, but he was afraid that that would make whatever issues she had even worse. He didn’t want to take that risk, so he just ordered the special for himself instead. He thought that maybe he’d be able to convince her to have a couple bites of his breakfast because he’d been able to share food with her like that before.

“So, you said that you had a better idea than me sneaking you into my room every night?” he asked her, trying to keep her from focusing on the food that they’d just ordered.

“I do,” she told him. “I was talking to Nancy last night, and she said she wouldn’t mind switching rooms with you if we wanted to share for the rest of the trip. It doesn't necessarily mean that anything needs to happen between us other than what we've already been doing, but I feel really comfortable sharing my space with you. So I was thinking that I’d maybe really like that to be an every night thing if it was something you’d like, too.”

“So, you’re saying that I would get to wake up snuggled up to the most beautiful girl I know, and I could do that every single day for the rest of this trip? Yeah, I think that’s something I’d like.”

“Oh, good. I was hoping that would be your answer,” she said with a teasing smirk. “I could really use my own personal space heater again.”

“Mean,” he said with a teasing smirk of his own. “I call you beautiful, and you only wanna cuddle with me because I’m warm. So mean.”

“That’s not the only reason.”

“Oh, yeah? What other reasons do you have?”

“You keep trying to get me to say things that you know are going to fluster me. Maybe you're the mean one.”

“Or maybe I just think you're especially beautiful when you're blushing,” he told her.

“Well, if that's the case,” Chrissy began, her cheeks already starting to get a little pink from his compliment, “I'll just say that if I told you what I really wanted to do before I got all up in my head yesterday morning, you wouldn't be calling me mean.”

“You’re definitely still mean,” he told her.

“How do you figure?”

“You told me that when we don’t have access to anywhere private enough for me to ask you if you’re willing to show me exactly what you were thinking. So cruel.”

Chrissy didn’t have time to respond because their waiter chose that moment to reappear with their food, and Steve watched as she stared at his plate of pancakes and the sides of sausage links and hash browns they came with before resigning herself to her own breakfast. He could almost see the disappointment on her face when she took a bite of her parfait and realized it didn't taste anywhere near as good as she knew the pancakes did.

He was careful about what he did next. He took a couple bites of his breakfast before cutting a small piece off of one of the pancakes.

“You’ve gotta try these,” he told her as he pushed the piece towards the edge of his plate. “They’re maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“That’s okay. I’m happy with what I ordered.”

“Are you sure? I think you’ll really like them.”

“That’s practically a third of one of your pancakes,” she said as she eyed the piece that he was offering her. “I’m not taking that much of your breakfast.”

Steve cut a single bite off of that piece and made sure it had a little bit of syrup and whipped cream on it before offering the fork to Chrissy.

“Just one bite then,” he said.

She ignored his offer and went back to twirling her spoon around in her yogurt.

“What’s this?” he said as he lifted his fork and started twirling it in the air in front of Chrissy. “Could it be the Pancake Express getting ready to pull in at Cunningham Station?”

It was then that he chose to start making train noises which set off Chrissy’s giggling.

“You’re so embarrassing,” she told him through her laughter as she reached out to take his fork. She ate the bite he’d given her, and he couldn’t stop smiling over the way she closed her eyes to savor the taste.

“Best pancakes ever, am I right?” he asked as he took his fork back.

“That was pretty delicious.”

“It’s a good thing the Pancake Express made it to you. I was afraid it was going to get derailed.”

“You’re such a dork,” she told him, giggling over his theatrics again.

“Maybe, but you like me, so what does that say about you?”

“That I have excellent taste when it comes to total dorks, obviously.”

“Obviously. I shouldn’t have even had to ask.”

He nudged Chrissy’s foot with his under the table, and she nudged him back before they went back to eating their breakfasts. She never outright asked him for another bite on her own, but she did accept a couple more bites from him when he offered them, so he was counting that as another win.

When it came time to pay for their meals, Steve told the waiter that it was all going on one check, and he wouldn’t let Chrissy share the tab.

“Absolutely not,” he told her. “I invited you on this date, so it’s my treat.”

“Then I’m buying you lunch,” she insisted. “I’m not letting you waste all of your money on me when I’m perfectly capable of treating you, too.”

“We’ll see. But you’re putting a dollar in the jar for thinking that me treating you is a waste of money.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that. And anyway, that’s not what I was trying to say. I just meant that you don’t need to constantly treat me to things just because we like each other. I’ve been paying for myself for ages. That doesn’t need to change.”

He wanted to ask her if that meant Jason never treated her on their dates, but he knew she didn’t like talking about him, so he didn’t want to be the one that brought him up. That had to be her choice.

“I know that I don't need to treat you to things, but I want to. I won't do it constantly if it makes you uncomfortable, but if I ask you on a date like this, I'd like to buy your breakfast.”

“I don't want things to be unbalanced between us,” she admitted. “I don't want you to end up resenting me because I can't reciprocate in the ways that you might want me to.”

Steve frowned, his brow furrowing. He reached across the table to lay his hand in front of her with his palm facing up and waited for her to place her hand in his. He gave her hand a small squeeze and started gently brushing her knuckles with his thumb.

“I don't want you to think that anything I'm doing is because I'm expecting something from you,” he told her. “Buying your breakfast came with zero expectations just like every one of the plushies I've given you or the snacks I’ve offered you. I do these things because I like you, and that's one of the ways I've always expressed that to people in the past. If it's too much for you, I can stop. The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable. I just want you to know that there are no strings attached to anything I give you.”

His words were almost enough to make her cry. She couldn't count how many times she'd been given something only to be told that there were expectations attached to the gift. A sweater from her mom, but she was only allowed to wear it if she lost five pounds. Money to go out with her friends after a basketball game paired with the knowledge that she’d have to show her mom the itemized receipt to prove she hadn't wasted it on junk food. And then any little thing Jason gave her came with the expectation that she'd put out for him. He'd been tolerant of her not being ready to let him touch her in certain ways in the beginning. He'd found her bashfulness somewhat endearing at first, but his patience eventually ran out, and then he started refusing to pay for her on dates because she wouldn't take her shirt off in front of him. It got to the point where she was afraid to even ask him for a stick of gum because she knew that even that would prompt him to request an uncomfortable amount of PDA.

She was so used to every gift holding a ‘but’, and yet Steve was sitting there telling her that this would never be the case with him. It all felt too good to be true.

“So you won't get upset with me if the only way I can show my thanks is with my words?” she asked.

“I promise that won't happen. I just want you to be happy.”

He gave her hand another little squeeze, and this time, she squeezed his hand back.

“Okay. Thank you for taking me to breakfast then,” she told him. “I’d still like to treat you sometimes though. It doesn't have to be lunch today, but I want to be able to treat you, too.”

“How about you buy me breakfast tomorrow then?” he suggested. “We can take turns.”

“I’d really like that. Only if you can manage to get yourself out of bed though. You seem to have an extra hard time getting up when we're sharing a bed,” she teased.

“I don’t remember hearing any complaints about that from you.”

“Oh really? Because I seem to recall me referring to you as the absolute worst.”

“So mean. I changed my mind. I don't wanna share a room with you anymore,” he teased right back.

Chrissy stuck out her lower lip in a pout that made Steve have to resist the urge to lean across the table and kiss it away.

“But then neither of us get any morning cuddles, so really, you’re just punishing yourself here.”

“You do make a good point there,” he said, making a show out of looking as if he were having a hard time making his choice. “Alright. We can room together.”

Chrissy’s expression instantly brightened, and Steve couldn’t help but smile back when she was beaming at him like that. He’d do anything to keep that smile in his life.

***

When they arrived back at the bed and breakfast, Steve offered to walk Chrissy back to her room but paused at the front desk when he realized he’d left his room key in the car.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “Go back and get your key. You don’t need to walk me to my room.”

“Well, yeah, I know I don’t need to. But I’m trying to do this whole first date thing right, and the clearly established rules of the first date say that I’m supposed to walk you to your door where I might be lucky enough to get an end of date kiss.”

“We’re already doing things a little different than a normal first date, so I’m giving you permission to break the rules. You could always give me my end of date kiss right here.”

“Even though it's PDA?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I think I can make an exception,” she told him. “My uneasiness hasn't disappeared overnight or anything like that, but I'm starting to maybe feel a little more comfortable with it. With you, it doesn't feel so scary.”

That was all Steve needed to hear for him to close the gap between them and lean down to kiss her. She tasted like strawberries and the maple syrup from his pancakes, and he could have spent the entire day falling into that kiss. Sure, he'd kissed plenty of other girls before, but none of them seemed to get him the way that Chrissy did. That only made kissing her even more thrilling, and he couldn't help but smile against her lips. It only egged him on when he felt her smile back.

“Thanks for letting me take you out to breakfast,” he said once they'd pulled apart.

“Thank you for taking me,” she replied. “I had a really nice time with you.”

“I wish it didn't have to end.”

“We're meeting right back here in an hour. You won't even have time to miss me.”

“You underestimate just how much I like spending time with you.”

A blush started to bloom on Chrissy’s cheeks, and he would have kissed her right then and there if he didn't think a second kiss would have toed the line of too much PDA.

Instead, he let her give him a quick hug before she headed off to her room leaving him to retrieve his room key from the car.

When he made it back into the bed and breakfast, he heard someone calling his name as he was walking through the lobby, and he turned to find the old couple that he and Chrissy had spoken with the day before sitting back on the same sofa.

“We hear someone went on a little date this morning,” Ethel said as she motioned for Steve to join them. “We passed Chrissy in the hallway on our way down here, and she was positively glowing. She's just absolutely smitten with you. I can tell.”

“You think so?” he asked.

“I know so. Girls don't get that dreamy look in their eyes for nothing, you know.”

“Well, that's a good thing then because I really like her, too.”

“It is disappointing that I won't be able to pass along my grandson’s number to her, but I think she might have already found her perfect match in you, and I wouldn't dare try to interfere with that.”

“Can I offer you a little bit of advice?” Fred asked. “Use a cheesy pick up line on her. That's how I won this one over, and we're going on fifty-three years of wedded bliss.”

He leaned over and planted a loud kiss on his wife’s cheek.

“Oh, Fred,” she said, swatting at his thigh. “He's always been a corny one, but I've always loved a guy that can make me laugh.”

“I'll definitely give that a shot,” Steve told the couple. “Any other tips you might have for me? I wanna make sure I do things the right way with her.”

“The fact that you're even asking is proof you're already doing everything right,” Ethel told him. “You're a nice boy. Just keep doing whatever you just did on that breakfast date. It's clearly working from how happy she was when we ran into her.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the advice.”

Steve didn't have to wait very long for the perfect opportunity to put Fred’s advice into action. When he finished getting ready for the day, he headed back out to the lobby to wait for the rest of the group and found that Chrissy was already waiting there. She was scanning the selection of brochures and fliers that was set up next to the front desk. He moved to stand next to her and leaned into her space.

“Sorry, but do you have a map in your purse?” he asked. “I think I just got lost in your eyes.”

She turned to face him, and her nose was all scrunched up as she tried to hold in her giggles.

“That was so bad,” she told him as she took his hand in hers.

“But it got you to initiate holding my hand, so I'm pretty sure it worked,” he teased.

“Well, yeah. Of course, it worked,” she teased right back. “I thought we'd already established that I like dorky guys?”

He leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she pouted when he pulled away.

“You missed.”

“I missed?”

She nodded.

“My lips are a little further to the left actually.”

“My mistake. These are your lips, right?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “No, that can't be right. Here, maybe?” He kissed her chin. “That didn't feel right either. Let me try again.” He kissed her left eye that time and then her other cheek, her forehead, and her right ear. He relished in the way she laughed a little bit more with each misplaced kiss.

“I think it's hopeless,” he finally said with an exaggerated sigh. “I'm never going to find them on my own. I think I need your help.”

“Such a colossal dork,” she said with an eye roll before standing up on her tiptoes to give Steve a proper kiss.

After their kiss, he moved to stand behind her so she could lean back against his chest and he could cage her in his arms. He snuck a quick glance back at the seating area where he saw Fred and Ethel giving him a thumbs up.

***

After a long day of touring monuments and a couple more museums, Nancy and Steve swapped rooms with the agreement that these would be the sleeping arrangements for the rest of the trip no matter where they ended up staying. In Steve’s opinion, it was the pretty perfect end to an already great day. Chrissy had held his hand through most of their adventuring, and she’d slowly started to be more comfortable with accepting affection from him in public. She’d even requested kisses from him on more than one occasion.

But maybe his favorite part of the day had been when they stopped at The Good Stuff Eatery for lunch. It was a restaurant owned by a former Top Chef contestant that Eddie insisted they had to stop at. He and his uncle were big on watching cooking competitions together, and he’d promised Wayne that he’d stop there to give him all the details about the food. When they were waiting in line to order, Chrissy had tugged on his hand to get his attention.

“Share a milkshake with me?” she’d asked. “I heard the toasted marshmallow shake is to die for, and I really want to try one, but I’ll never be able to finish one on my own.”

“Can we get two straws and be sickeningly cute?”

“Of course.”

“Then my answer is yes.”

Chrissy had beamed at him and kissed his cheek again, and he had to resist the urge to tell her how proud of her he was. There was a part of him that knew that she wasn’t allowing herself to have a whole milkshake because of her mother, but the fact that she wanted to share one with him was progress, and he couldn’t be happier that she wasn’t depriving herself of the things she wanted to try.

When the two couples had separated to go to their own rooms for the rest of the night, neither Steve nor Chrissy felt ready to go to bed yet.

“How do you feel about going on another little adventure?” Chrissy asked as she exited the bathroom after changing into her pajamas for the night.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I noticed this cute little outdoor seating area when we were leaving this morning, and I was thinking that maybe you’d wanna sit out there and look at the stars with me?”

Steve got up from where he was lounging on the bed to grab his windbreaker and slip on his shoes.

“Lead the way,” he told her.

Chrissy took him by the hand, and they made their way down to a patio off of the building’s back entrance. There was a swinging bench seat with a few plush pillows, and there were fairy lights strung up around the space.

“It’s perfect, right?” Chrissy asked as she pulled Steve over to the seat.

“Definitely.”

Steve draped his jacket around Chrissy’s shoulders before sitting down on the bench and pulling her to sit down with him. He kept one leg firmly planted on the ground to rock them back and forth a little. Chrissy let out a content sigh as she curled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Are you a shooting star?” Steve asked her. “Because I can’t help but wish you were mine whenever I look at you.”

Chrissy covered her face with her hands as she started giggling.

“That was too corny,” she told him. “Who would have thought that Prom King Steve Harrington was such a dork?”

“I may be a dork, but what does it say about Prom Queen Chrissy Cunningham that my dorky lines have such a big effect on her?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I wasn’t the prom queen, so I don’t think those terms apply.”

“I find that really hard to believe. You’re pretty much the quintessential prom queen. How could they not elect you?”

“Well, I think you kind of have to go to prom to be elected.”

“You didn’t go to prom?” That fact shocked him. He thought everybody went to their senior prom. Especially popular girls like her. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. Jason had just dumped me two weeks before, all of my friends already had dates, and I didn’t really feel like finding a new date or crashing Eddie’s with Nancy. Plus, Jason found a new date immediately, and I really didn’t want to be forced to watch some other girl hang all over him all night. My parents were out of town for something with my brother, so I just stayed home and watched a bunch of Fraggle Rock in bed. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

But it was a big deal. It broke Steve’s heart to think that she had missed out on such an important event because of whatever bullshit Jason had put her through, and the worst part was that she didn’t even sound sad about it. She’d just accepted that skipping prom was the logical thing to do in her situation even though it wasn’t. She never should have had to make that decision in the first place, and now he was trying to figure out how to throw her a makeup prom once they were back in Hawkins.

He couldn’t just let that information linger though. He didn’t want there to be a cloud hanging over their otherwise perfect day because of what she’d just admitted to him. So, without thinking, he got up from the bench and pulled out his phone. He opened up the link Chrissy had shared to her musical theater playlist, and he chose a song that he remembered her gushing over when she was telling him about why she loved Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella so much. As the opening bars of “Ten Minutes Ago” started to play, he offered Chrissy his hand.

“May I have this dance?” he asked.

“What are you doing?”

“This is the bed and breakfast prom, and you’ve just been crowned prom queen. As your king, I think that means we’re supposed to share a dance.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” she told him. “It’s okay that I missed prom. I’m fine.”

“I know. I just want you to know that it’s okay if you weren’t fine. And I know this isn’t the same, but maybe it makes up for what you missed just a little bit.”

Chrissy’s lower lip quivered as she took Steve’s hand and let him pull her in for a slow dance. She’d shoved herself into a box where she felt like she had to be agreeable and give up things that mattered to her for so long that that was all that she knew how to do. And now, Steve was slow dancing with her under the stars because he was adamant that she didn’t have to do that. She didn’t have to give up the things she wanted, and she was allowed to be disappointed. What she wanted mattered, and that realization was enough to make her cry.

As the song came to an end, he gave her a little twirl before pulling her back against his chest. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, willing herself not to cry as he held her tight against him. She was not going to ruin this beautiful moment with tears. She couldn’t.

When she’d finally composed herself and looked up at him, he was gazing down at her as if she was the only thing that mattered, and it made her feel like her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

“How are you even real?”

She wasn’t sure if she’d even said that out loud at first, but then Steve let out a small laugh and hugged her tighter. He leaned down to kiss her, and she melted into him.

Chrissy Cunningham was special, damn it, and he was going to do everything in his power to make her realize that.

#cheerscoops #harringham #stissy #steve x chrissy #chrissy x steve #steve harrington x chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x steve harrington #my writing #wyptif #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham

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myveryownfanfiction · 2 years ago

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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

Warnings: drinking (even tho Bucky can’t get drunk doesn’t mean he can’t try), swearing, iPhone usage

AN: this came in second on my poll so I’ll write it. Sounds fun. I think Bucky would have a few more issues than Otto when learning how to text. And he’d be less about the gifs and more about the actual writing.

Tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

Bucky toyed with his phone as he stood in my living room. He waited while I shuffled around, trying to clean up. Eventually, he brushed past me and went to my fridge to grab a beer.

"What's the big idea?" I called after him. Bucky grunted and he took a sip. My lips quirked up at him as he smirked at me.

"Figure I could at least try to get drunk if we're going to do this." I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"Fine. Whatever. Just pay attention." I sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to me. "What do you know already?" Bucky looked over at me as he sat down. "I'm really supposed to believe that Sam sent you over to me without telling you anything. C'mon Buck." He held up his hands, bottle dangling from his fingers.

"Things I do not want to say out loud to you." He offered. I grimaced and nodded. "Yeah. So how do I actually use this thing?" Taking the phone, I tried to unlock it. The passcode stared back at me.

"Buck, who set the passcode?" Bucky flushed and grabbed it before entering the passcode quickly.

"I did. It was the one thing that Sam taught me that wasn't..." He trailed off before passing me the phone back. He took a sip from the bottle in his hand. "Sorry. I forgot that was there." I nodded quickly.

"As long as it is something no one else can easily guess it is fine." I shrugged. Bucky nodded. "Alright so do you know what any of these do?" He nodded again before opening the phone app.

"This one calls people." He swiped up and tapped the one next to it. "Messaging. Which I still don't understand by the way." Swiping up again, he continued through the phone. "I won't use half of these anyway but according to Sam and Shuri, I need them on there." I chuckled and nodded.

"Yeah. Mostly because it's security shit or something that will eventually keep you occupied." I shrugged. "So basically you want to know how to text?" Bucky nodded.

"That's what this is for." He joked before finishing the bottle. I rolled my eyes and leaned into him slightly.

"Well considering you can't get drunk until after like three cases of those, you've got a long way to go Buck." I opened the contacts app. "Let's see who you have in here that we can send something to." I trailed off as I looked at the list. "Four people Buck? That's it?" He nodded sheepishly.

"I don't get out much." He muttered. "Don't text Sam." I nodded.

"No. He'd just tease you relentlessly." I looked over the list again. Sam. Shuri. Sarah. And me. I sighed and handed him back his phone. Getting up, Bucky started to protest. "Hang on a second Bucky. I'm just going to my room to get my phone. Seems like I'm the best option here." He nodded before getting up and heading to the kitchen again. As I emerged from my room, Bucky came back with two bottles and took a long drink from one.

"Alright, I'm ready." He settled in next to me, leaning back against the couch. "Sam usually texts me first so can we go over how to start a message?" I nodded and handed him his phone to unlock.

"Alright. So first thing you do is go to the bar on top and type in my name." I watched as Bucky did that and then tapped my name as it popped up. "Then the bar at the bottom is for the message. Just type whatever." I shrugged and watched as Bucky stared at the screen. He took a long sip of his beer before putting down the bottle. Pulling the phone into his lap, I fiddled with my phone as he typed out his message.

"When I'm done, I just hit this little blue arrow right?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yep. That sends whatever you just typed to the person you are sending it to." I answered. Bucky tapped the button and we waited. "Did you want to know about gifs and all that?" Bucky looked at me with wide eyes.

"There's more?" He asked, awe lacing his tone. I nodded with a smile.

"Yeah. But we don't have to go over it if you don't want to." He shook his head.

"Maybe next time." Bucky mumbled. I nodded and looked at my phone as the message came through. "Listen, (Y/N) you don't have to if you don't..." I was staring at my phone in awe. I looked from Bucky to his message and back. "(Y/N)? You don't have to...I just thought...it was easier to ask..." I cut him off my hugging him.

"Yes Buck." I laughed out. "Yes." He smiled as he wrapped his arms around me. My phone dinged again at the message not being opened from the phone. It read:

Buck: Do you want to go out to dinner with me sometime?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagie #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier fanfic #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader

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labrxnth · 6 hours ago

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EotP Chapter 3: A Heart Starting Up Again (Leon x Reader Series)

Tag List:

WC: 4102

CWs: some heinous forced father figure shit, human experimentation, PTSD, kidnapping, cannon level body horror, cannon level swearing and violence, body comparison.

AN: I chose to go with Leon's original backstory because fuck you. Also I started this up again because the past few months have been CRAZY and I just had time to sit down and do this teehee

If you want to be on the tag list, comment and it'll be done.

Spotify Link: Listen along to the playlist I've curated for this fanfic

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

It felt like hours had passed since you crashed into the side of the Raccoon City Police Department. The grungy and dingy setting of the abandoned and festering building had grown familiar in your mind. A stark contrast to your home, the cell with all white walls and floors.

Thankfully, the clothes that Leon had supplied you with made life easier. You felt like you could run and keep up with him. What was your plain white, almost hospital gown, article of cloth was now an oversized police uniform. The top of it was wrapped and tied around your waist to keep it up, a tank top covering your chest. The shoes made it easy to walk, or more likely run, with Leon.

Even with your busted up ankle.

The medallion looking object that Leon was studying had a woman etched into it. Observing him, you could put together that it was a piece of something by the way he kept looking at the small notebook, then the metal object.

“Do you need me to hold anything?” You asked, noticing his pouches and pockets looked quite full. With the new clothes you had on, you had a few spare pockets, and you could always hold something.

More than anything, you wanted assurance that Leon wouldn’t leave you behind or abandon you. If you were useful, he would keep you around.

“Actually, can you hold onto these?” Leon asked, handing you a key ring. Inspecting the keyring, it held a key with a spade insignia on the tail end of it. You took a closer look, a bit confused as to why he had a key like this.

“This place is a maze. It used to be an art museum,” He added.

“That… actually makes sense,” You replied, taking the key.

You remembered a few things about art museums. All the memories you had of them made you feel strangely calm. Picturing hundreds of beautiful artworks on muted color walls, lights that weren’t the bright white LEDs you were used to by now. You remembered going to a few for school field trips.

School field trips…. Did anyone at your school wonder what happened to you? Any of your friends whose faces or voices you couldn’t remember anymore. Did they remember your name when you couldn’t?

“Hey, I know this is tough, but we need to keep going,” Leon’s voice cut through your spiral.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his. His eyes held something that you hadn’t expected, concern. Not pity, not frustration, concern.

“I’m okay… My ankle just hurts,” You said, trying to come up with an excuse. For some reason, not telling him the truth left you with a pit in your stomach, something that could be felt in the bottom of your throat, where it met your collarbone.

“I know, when we make it out of here I’ll patch it up properly,” He said, looking down at your injury. Even with the bandages on, it was easy to tell how swollen it had gotten. His voice was laced with guilt when he said it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Getting to the main lobby of the Police Department felt like it took ages. Eventually, the grimy, dingy, blue and green walls turned into an almost elegant main lobby. Warm lights shined down from the overhead lights, as well as wall sconces.

As your hand softly dragged along the top of a wooden desk, you took in how it felt. The texture of the wood, how soft, but rigid it was. You wouldn’t mind staying here while the rest of the world went to shit around you.

Leon had walked past you and made his way up a ramp to an area you couldn’t see. While he was moving around up there, you played with a typewriter and felt the stained glass on an old fashioned banking lamp.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of something moving, like a large statue being dragged. The ground trembled slightly as the sound died down, the smell of dust filled the air.

“Lieutenant Branagh! Marvin!” You heard Leon’s voice call out.

You made your way up the ramp and could see Leon walking away from what appeared to be an underground passage. He was walking to an area with hospital beds and privacy curtains that you couldn’t see around from where you were.

“It’s time to go,” Leon said as he walked over to something, or rather someone.

A slight growl was heard, making you walk more onto the landing to be able to see what was going on. Past the privacy curtain, you could see a man on a couch in a police uniform. He was sitting up, growling like he just came out of a nightmare. There was a wound on his side, one he was clutching.

“Hey,” Leon said, crouching down to his level. “ We need to get you to a hospital, right now.” You could see how he looked at the man, compassion in his eyes. The same look as when he found you.

“No, no, I….” Branagh trailed off, sitting up more, dazed. “Save yourself,” He added, grimacing and turning away from Leon.

Leon stood up, reaching out for him. “C’mon, I got you-”

“Don’t!” Branagh exclaimed, moving away from him.

You got closer to Leon, trying not to intrude on whatever was happening, but also being there in case you needed to pull him away. Leon was your lifeline, you weren’t going to lose him to his own compassion and heroism.

Leon looked back at you, acknowledging that you were there, then looked back at Branagh. “Look, we can still make it out of here together if you just gimme-”

Leon was cut off by Branagh brandishing a gun, pointed at him. Instinctively, you grabbed Leon’s arm, wanting to pull him away, but Leon wasn’t budging.

“It’s too late,” Branagh said, breathing heavily. “I tried Leon, but I couldn’t stop it. We can’t let this thing spread.” As he talked, his breathing got heavier, his voice got shakier.

“It’s on you now, just go,” He finished, looking down at the ground, wincing. The gun wavered as he did. He looked back up at Leon, then his eyes glanced over to yours. You recognized the look in his eyes.

You weren’t the only person that was experimented on by Umbrella. There were others, other adults, kids, animals. Most of them failed, but somehow you survived. You survived to see hundreds of people and animals have the same look in their eyes. Trying not to succumb to whatever Umbrella had made them to be, fighting their forced destiny.

“I understand,” Leon said flatly, watching as Branagh laid back down on the couch, resigning to his fate.

Leon’s hand grabbed yours, leading you down into the depths of wherever you were going.

You had questions, many questions. Questions for Leon, questions about what you had been thrown into, questions about why it was up to Leon to “stop the spread” as Branagh put it.

Only one question could sum everything up. Who did you piss off to make your life this complicated?

“Leon,” You started, looking at the back of his head as he led the two of you down stone stairs. He was uncharacteristically quiet. His touch between your hands felt loose. Usually, he’d be checking up on you, or making some witty comment to make the horrors around you less awful.

He didn’t even acknowledge you. Not one change with how mechanically and automatically he was walking down the stairs; his head facing forwards, trudging downstairs. His coldness was echoed in the all stone, almost tomb-like stairwell you two were descending.

“Hey, Leon,” You said again, stopping. He looked up at you and, even in darkness, you could tell it was the face of someone trying to steel themselves against loss.

“We should keep going,” He replied, almost pulling you along.

After a bit, light could be seen in the stairwell. When you reached the end of it, a door opened to a room. It had a high ceiling, bookshelves lined the walls, and it had a desk with a typewriter on it. The floors felt plush as you walked along the carpet.

Leon let go of your hand and he walked over to a crate, searching it for supplies and dropping things he didn’t need.

“Leon,” You said again, watching him go through the crate.

“Hm?” He said in reply.

“Did you know him long?” You asked.

He stopped what he was doing and sighed. “No, I met him tonight. I just…” He said, trying to find the right words. Even after being separated from other people for most of your life, you knew the signs of being at the end of your rope, exhaustion, and feeling hopeless.

“Hey,” You said softly and walked up to him. “The world needs more kind and compassionate people.” You added and fidgeted with your fingers.

Leon laughed, a little coldly. “You barely know me,” He replied. “I could be the worst person ever.” He added.

“I don’t think you are,” You responded. “Any cruel, or even neutral, person would’ve left me to rot in that room.”

For most of your life, you were taught that weakness meant failure. Failure meant getting tossed out with all the other experiments that failed. You would’ve expected Leon to leave you in the room where you two left. You would’ve understood it, especially in the situation you were in.

You walked closer to Leon, reaching out for his hand, a safety that you had gotten used to by now. As your hands touched, he grabbed your hand.

His eyes met yours, filled with determination, shedding off whatever he was going through. “I won’t fail Marvin,” He said. “And… I won’t fail you. I’ll get us out of here.”

His fingers laced together with yours and his eyes softened. “I’ll make sure you live,” He said softly.

Your heart thumped in a way that you hadn’t felt before. The beat of it against your chest was akin to fluttering. An unfamiliar warmth passed through you. A slight painting of blush spread across your cheeks as you kept his gaze.

Luckily for you, Leon had looked away and started walking, leading the two of you through a doorway and around a corner to an elevator. He pressed the button, and the two of you watched as the elevator came up to the floor you were on.

You both looked at each other, then stepped into the elevator. Leon pushed a button and you leaned up against the back wall of it, your hands resting against the bar on the wall.

“The man you were talking to… Marvin…. He said it was up to you to stop this whole thing going on,” You said. “How much do you know about this?” You asked.

Leon turned to face you, standing next to you against the back wall of the elevator. “I know that it’s zombies, humans infected and turning undead… but other than that I know nothing,” He replied. “It’s funny, I’ve watched so many movies and played zombie games. I never thought it’d happen in real life.” He sighed and looked up at the light flickering on the ceiling of the elevator.

“I remember my dad liking monster movies,” You said. Memories of him raving about the newest monster thrillers swarmed your brain. Funny, you could remember what he liked, but you couldn’t remember him.

“Did he not visit you in the hospital?” Leon asked, raising his eyebrows.

That’s right, you told him you were a hospital patient and hinted at it being long-term to hide the truth. Would you buckle down on the lie you told? Or would you fess up now?

“He died before I was admitted,” You said, faster than you could think about telling the truth. It left a sour taste in your mouth. Leon was a good man, and here you were lying to his face.

Granted, it was better than the alternative of you telling him you were an experiment. He could leave you, scared you would turn into an infected, or worse, he could use you to his advantage. You had a feeling Leon would never do that, but you still didn’t really know him.

You were like a wounded animal, being treated, but with the threat of betrayal close at hand. You’d do anything to avoid death.

“I know how you feel, both of my parents died when I was younger,” Leon said, breaking the few seconds of silence that passed.

Now you really felt like an asshole.

“I’m sorry,” You said.

“Don’t be. They were kind of awful people. They made a mistake dealing with people they shouldn’t have and it cost them their lives,” He replied. “They were good to me, they weren’t absolute monsters, but they made their choices.”

You looked over at him. “So you became a cop?” You asked, looking at the uniform he had on. Like you, he could’ve just taken the uniform from the locker room, but it fit him a little too well for it to be makeshift clothes. His interactions with Marvin also made you guess he was a cop.

“When my parents were killed, a police officer found me. He kind of adopted me in a way. I grew up wanting to help people so I went to the Police Academy,” He replied.

“How’d that go?”

“Top of my class,” He replied, a slight grin on his lips.

“Bragger,” You snipped back, a grin on your face too.

Anything to distract the two of you from whatever hell was waiting outside the elevator.

“This was supposed to be my first day, I got a letter telling me to stay away, but I just… couldn’t,” He replied.

“Hell of a first day,” You replied, a glint of humor in your eyes.

“Something like that,” He replied and chuckled. “Well, what about you?” He asked, his eyes looking over at you.

“I-” You were about to spout out some random lie about being sick, but fate was in your favor. The elevator stopped and the door creaked open to reveal another set of stairs.

“We can talk later,” He replied. “Before we leave, how’s your ankle?” He asked.

“Awful, but I’ll manage,” You replied.

He dug through one of his pouches and produced a cloth. “I have some medical herbs. If you suck on the leaves, it’ll alleviate pain for a bit,” He handed the cloth over to you.

You grabbed a few leaves and stuck them in your mouth. It tasted like spearmint, but made warmth surge through you.

“Don't swallow them, just spit them out when you’re done,” He replied.

You nodded in reply.

“And Joan, promise me something,” He said, grabbing your hand again. “If we ever get into a lot of trouble, you leave me. I’ll distract them while you run for it… or hobble I guess,” He added.

“What about staying together?” You asked.

“In a bad situation, I’d rather us be separated for a few minutes, than have you get hurt,”

“Okay,” You replied, nodding slightly. The idea of having to get around this place without Leon scared you shitless. You liked his company, but more than that he was your safety. More times than not, you’ve thought about how safe you felt around him and how thankful you were to have him here.

Not having him with you wasn’t an option for survival.

He nodded, seemingly content with your response and he led the two of you down the concrete staircase. The staircase was extremely dark and eerie; the only light being from his flashlight and the only sound being the steps from the two of you and a growling off in the distance.

As the two of you got to the ground floor, your footsteps became more swamped as the floor was flooded. An open doorway into a bare hallway was the only way to go for now, and the growling came from that direction.

Leon pulled out his handgun and motioned for you to stick behind him as he walked through the hallway. As you walked into the hallway, you noted that the floor was grated, as was the ceiling. The two of you were on some sort of catwalk-type landing that led you through a dark room.

You were about to say something when an inhuman noise came from above you, causing you to duck. Hurried footsteps could be heard running along the ceiling of the walkway you two were on, the growling and gurgling noises following it.

“What the-” Leon said under his breath as the noises died down. Whatever was making those noises had ran far enough away that you couldn’t hear them anymore.

Everything in your body was telling you not to press forward. Not to go on. But you knew that you had to in order to make it out of here.

Leon kept on walking and the two of you made your way into a generator room. Beyond that was a machinery room with a balcony overlooking the bottom floor. Steam and smoke billowed from the bottom floor, making it hard to see beneath the balcony.

“Stay here, I’m gonna check out ahead,” Leon said, looking back at you.

Left with no choice, you nodded. You were more concerned about him leaving you behind more than him getting killed. He seemed resourceful, and that comment about him being at the top of his class in the Police Academy proved that.

“I’ll be fine. I made you a promise that I’d get you out of here and I intend to keep it,” He said, squeezing your hand slightly.

“I know you will,” You said, with a slight smile. While he was distracted, you slid something from his back pocket. The booklet he was studying back at the Police Department. Now he couldn’t leave without you.

You stayed where you were, hearing Leon move something. You almost poked your head out from where you were when you heard a loud thud and the growling noise from earlier.

“What the-” Leon’s voice could be heard. You heard an almost slimy sound, then the sound of something being tossed.

Leon grunted, making you limp over to what was happening. What you saw confused you. A creature, a man in a labcoat had Leon pinned to the ground. One of his arms was twice the size of his head, a giant eye blinking and watching Leon as the visceral, exposed muscles and skin around it flowed down to his hand that was holding a crowbar.

The man spasmed as the eye did, pushing Leon more into the grates of the balcony.

“Leon!” You yelled, surprised at how much emotion went into it.

“Joan, go! Run!” He yelled as the creature pressed him harder into the balcony, making it give beneath them.

Him and the creature fell to the floor beneath, surrounded by machinery and billowing smoke. You heard Leon groaning and saw a flash of the familiar navy blue uniform as he ran.

You kneeled down, watching the room with hope. For some reason, your heart was beating, dread and anxiety filling your heart at the thought of him getting hurt. It was the first time since being taken by Umbrella that you had feelings for someone else. Feeling in general.

Umbrella had stripped you of most things that made you human, a name, feelings, choice. But now there was something beating where your heart had been broken years earlier. A soft beating, something urging you to hope that he would still be alive. A warmth that made you realize you could have emotions again, true emotions.

Even if you died here, you weren't in the sterile white walls of your prison. You were allowed to be human again.

You could hear gunshots being fired, seeing the spark from the muzzle of the handgun made you slightly smile, he was still alive.

Metal clanged against metal as the creature hit its surroundings with its crowbar. Its guttural screams and agonal groans could still be heard as Leon fired bullets into it.

There was nothing you could do as you tried to make out where Leon was among the smoke. The gap in the balcony was too far for you to jump across without any help and there was nothing around to throw at the creature.

Suddenly, everything went silent. You limped over to the edge of the balcony, searching the bottom floor. “Leon?” You called, anxiously.

A metal clang could be heard and you saw a figure on the other side of the room on the balcony. The figure was leaving. Leon was leaving?!

“Wait!” You called, looking at the gap on the balcony. He couldn’t leave you, he promised you.

He must be like everyone else. Leaving you. Abandoning you. You weren’t good enough for anyone, you were just a stupid lab rat. The world around you was getting hazy as your breath got heavier.

“Joan?” Leon’s voice called out. He was on the other side of the gap. Your head poked up to see him.

But if that figure wasn’t him… who was it?

“Jump, I’ll catch you!” He said. He looked more exhausted and disheveled than he was earlier.

You got to your feet and got to the edge of the gap. Leon came back for you like he said he would. Maybe you were worth it to someone.

His words echoed in your head, he made a promise to you.

“Don’t worry about the gap, I’ll catch you,” he added, watching you.

You nodded and jumped the gap easily. His arms were around you as you cleared the jump, the two of you falling to the floor. “You're surprisingly athletic,” He commented, sitting up and looking at you. The two of you were on the floor, faces inches from each other. ��Thanks for the ladder,” He added and smiled a bit.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What ladder?” You asked.

He tilted his head a bit. “The ladder you brought down to me,” He said, nodding his head over to where a ladder descended from the catwalk.

“That wasn’t me,” You replied.

This time, his eyebrows furrowed. “Someone’s watching us, then,” He replied and looked around.

The figure you saw. Someone was definitely watching the two of you. Seeing Leon still recovering from the fight he had, you decided it might not be the best to confirm his suspicions. The figure didn’t seem to be malicious, after all they helped Leon. Your intuition was going all over the place since being here, your usual senses that you could rely on were betraying you. Not being able to sense intentions and situations made you feel vulnerable, relying on Leon.

Maybe this figure was looking out for the two of you, like a guardian angel. Or maybe they were another enemy luring you to your eventual death and playing with you.

“We should get some rest,” Leon said, calling your attention back to him. “Never know when we’ll find another quiet place to rest,” He added.

You nodded, getting up, and helping him to his feet. While you couldn’t rely on the “gifts” you had honed the past ten years of your life, you could rely on Leon. And for some reason, that made you more comfortable than the other option. It made you feel more human, having to rely on others.

The two of you walked into what seemed like the control center for the catwalks and the machinery room. Leon pulled the chair out and gestured for you to sit in it.

“Rest up, I’ll wake you up in an hour,” He replied and sat down against a metal locker. His head leaned against it and he seemed to drift asleep while you limped over to the chair. You stopped and stood in front of Leon. guilt welled up in you as you took the journal out of your pocket and placed it on Leon’s lap.

You gently brushed his hair back into place with your fingers and you made your way back to the chair. Sitting down in it, you sighed, exhaustion catching up to you. Your eyes closed as the world around you turned to black and you gave into your desire to sleep.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy x you #echoes of the past #slow burn #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy

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dystopicjumpsuit · 1 year ago

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Martyrs and Kings - Chapter 5

The One That Survives

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged)

Pairing: Kix x archivist/historian OFC

Wordcount: 3.2k

A/N: For my readers who loved Cerra in "Do It Again," keep your eyes peeled.

Warnings: angst; injuries (no blood); Star Wars swearing; discussions of canon character deaths (not detailed)

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The next day passed in agonizing slowness for Kix. As difficult as it was to hear about the eventual fate of the clones, now that he had begun to uncover what had happened to his brothers, he was desperate to learn more. Seeing Jesse’s number on the 332nd roster had been a gut punch. Of course, he had been at the top of the list of individual troopers that Kix had sent Maree after their first meeting, but he hadn’t been prepared to confront the knowledge quite so soon. Unfortunately, the roster did not provide any information other than a note indicating that Jesse had been assigned as a staff officer to the 332nd Division. Kix would have to wait until his next meeting with Maree to find out what had happened to him.

To distract himself, he checked in with the Meson Martinet and gave an update to Reveth.

“I’ll probably be here a few more days,” he said. “Hard to tell.”

Reveth nodded. Her hologram was distorted by the distance it had traveled, but it was clear enough that he could see the serious expression on the mechanic’s beautiful face.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“Fine,” he said shortly.

He and Reveth walked the line between friends and kriff-buddies, but one thing they didn’t do was talk about their feelings.

“Ithano is itching to get back out there and find some more Seppie bases to loot,” Reveth said. “He’ll be happy to hear you’re wrapping things up.”

“Like I said, it’ll be a few days at least,” he said, not liking to feel rushed.

“All right, all right, the bases can wait,” she said placatingly. “It’s not like any other crews have a clone giving them intel.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” he said.

They ended the call, which had killed all of six minutes, leaving him with only another 1,378 to go. Kix scrubbed a hand over his face. He was exhausted. He’d never slept well—none of the clones did—but it had been worse than ever in the year since he’d been pulled out of cryostasis. The previous night, he’d jerked awake, sobbing Jesse’s name. Rather than lie awake for hours, afraid to fall back asleep and enter his nightmares all over again, he had gone to the hotel gym. He had set a punishing pace, not stopping until his muscles cramped and his lungs burned. It hadn’t eased the twisting ache of grief, rage, failure, and despair that gnawed inside him.

He launched himself to his feet and grabbed his jacket, heading out of the hotel with a determined stride. He was in a planet-sized city, for kark’s sake. He could find something to distract him.

Taungsday morning, Maree hurried to work. She arrived half an hour early, but a familiar figure was already waiting outside the staff entrance. Kix turned to her as she approached, and she skidded to an abrupt halt.

“Holy kriffing sith!” she exclaimed. “What happened to your face?”

“It ran into a fist,” Kix said. “A few times.”

Maree traced her fingers softly across his hairline and then gently tilted his jaw so she could get a better look at the angry bruises mottling his skin.

“Force almighty,” she cursed. “Don’t you have any bacta?”

He shook his head.

“Come with me,” she said, taking his hand and tugging him toward the entrance. “There’s an emergency medkit in my office.”

The mazelike corridors were empty, for which she was grateful. She could only imagine what rumors would swirl amongst the interns if she were spotted dragging the gorgeous, battered man through the library. She pulled him into her office and locked the door behind them.

“Sit,” she directed him as she rummaged through the kitchenette cabinets to find the medkit.

Thank the stars, there was plenty of bacta inside. She washed her hands and dispensed a little of the gel onto her fingertips, warming it slightly as she crossed to him. She spread the bacta generously over the bruises and lacerations. His lip was split, so she dabbed a small amount on it. He held perfectly still beneath her touch, never flinching, even when her fingers grazed over a particularly nasty cut over his eyebrow.

“Where else are you hurt?” she demanded.

“Nowhere,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

He took a hitching breath, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Take off your shirt,” she ordered.

He shot her a startled glance.

“What?” he asked.

“Off. Take it off. I know you’re hiding more injuries.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, rising to comply.

He shed his jacket and then slipped his shirt over his head with a tiny grunt of pain.

She hissed in a breath and unleashed a torrent of curses that made Kix’s mouth drop open in awe. The entire left side of his ribcage was covered in dark bruises.

“Will you teach me how to swear like that, doc?” he asked as some of the tension in his face began to ease. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“This isn’t funny,” she said severely. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Relax,” he said. “I was just blowing off some steam.”

“Do you know what I do when I need to blow off steam?” she demanded. “I go bar hopping, or dancing with my friends, or I go for a run if I’m feeling virtuous. I don’t go out and get my ass stomped into the plastcrete!”

He shrugged. “We all handle stress in our own self-destructive ways. Besides, you should have seen the other guy.”

She glared at him, muttering darkly under her breath as she emptied the tube of bacta onto his impressively muscled torso. She would have enjoyed the view more if she hadn’t been so irritated with his recklessness.

“You’re a mean medic,” he said. “I was never this mean to my patients.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing I’m not that kind of doctor, then,” she snapped.

She smeared the bacta across the bruises on his chest and then blew on it to help it dry. He shivered, and she realized he must be freezing. She handed him one of the numerous throw blankets scattered around the office.

“Here,” she said. “Wrap up in this until the bacta dries and you can put your shirt back on. Do you want some pain meds?”

He shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll get us some tea.”

“And biscuits?” he asked hopefully.

“And biscuits,” she sighed.

Kix was fully clothed again by the time the rest of the archival staff trickled into the library, but Maree kept her door locked until the bacta could work its magic on his face. He looked truly shocking, and her concern for him made her cranky. He seemed unaffected by either his injuries or her exasperation. On the contrary, he was in a surprisingly good mood considering that they were about to dive into the heartbreaking task of reviewing the individual trooper reports he’d requested.

Kix was on his second cup of tea and his fourth biscuit as Maree booted up the holoprojector. She was deeply envious of his metabolism. How could he subsist on a diet of sweets while maintaining that breathtaking physique?

“These are really good,” he mumbled around a bite of biscuit. “Did you make them?”

“No, they’re from a bakery by my apartment,” she said. “I’m not much of a cook.”

“It must be nice to live so close to good restaurants,” he said.

“Perks of living in the city,” she said.

“Would you ever move away?” he asked.

If one of my expedition proposals got approved, I’d leave in a heartbeat, she thought. But that wasn’t exactly the sort of sentiment she should share with a major donor to the Library, so she gave a more diplomatic and less truthful answer.

“I don’t know. I never really thought about it. My work is here, and it’s not like the rest of the galaxy is clamoring for archivists.”

“Did you always want to be an archivist?”

“It was a way to put my doctorate to use,” she hedged. “And the New Republic pays well. I still have access to research opportunities, and I’m the faculty advisor for the military history internship program, so I get to see the emerging trends in the field firsthand. It’s always inspiring to see young people excited about learning history. When I was their age, I always wanted to do field work.”

“Why didn’t you?” he asked.

“Credits,” she said bluntly. “It’s not cheap to finance excursions, and it’s almost impossible to drum up funds if you don’t have the publications to demonstrate your expertise. I joined the Archive to build my professional reputation, and I stayed because I grew up and realized there’s more to life than chasing dreams.”

“Like earning that sweet, sweet New Republic salary,” he said.

“Having a stable income is nothing to sneer at,” she retorted.

“Right, and you can spend it on pretty dresses to wear to the galas you love so much.”

“Or on travel, or fine dining, or opera tickets, or art, or glitterstim, or a wine collection that I’ll never drink, or massages, or whatever the kriff I want, because it’s my money, and I get to decide how I spend it,” she said, feeling her earlier ire start to return.

“Fair enough,” he said. “When was the last time you did any of those things?”

“It’s been a while,” she admitted. “I’ve been kind of wrapped up in work recently.”

He looked thoughtful.

“What about pursuing field work now?” he asked. “Doesn’t the library provide any opportunities for senior research staff like you?”

“They’ve scaled back in recent years,” she said. “There are still opportunities on the Core worlds, but there aren’t many sites that are relevant to my research in the Core. The library administration says the Mid and Outer Rims are too risky to send research expeditions. The First Order has been expanding in those regions. The New Republic doesn’t want to acknowledge them publicly as a threat, but they’re being cautious behind the scenes.”

“Risk is an inherent part of life,” Kix said philosophically.

“True, but a New Republic badge in the Outer Rim might as well be a target,” Maree said. “Particularly for a civilian researcher.”

“Well,” he said, “I hope you don’t stop chasing all your dreams, doc.”

She gave him a wan smile, trying not to acknowledge the sting of truth in his words.

“Shall we get started?”

“CT-0292, Captain Vaughn, was killed in action during the siege of Mandalore. Boil is the next name on the list. Without a numerical designation, I wasn’t able to find a record, unfortunately. Same with Wooley. After that is CC-2224. Marshall Commander Cody served with distinction through the end of the Clone Wars and the formation of the Empire,” Maree said. “His file states that he went AWOL the year after the end of the war. There are no other extant records of him.”

Maree heaved a frustrated sigh. They had been at this for hours. The lack of clone records in the Imperial era was becoming a recurring theme. Of the list Kix had sent her, nearly half of the clones had either missing or incomplete files. It was as though the Empire had found yet another way to subtly twist the knife—they considered the clones to be of such little value that they were not even worth the effort of updating the records.

“Who’s next on the list?” Kix asked.

“CT-7922, Dogma. His record states that he was detained after the battle of Umbara, but there is nothing else in the file.”

Kix brooded. He knew it had been a long shot to ask about Dogma. He had never seen the clone again after Umbara. While Kix believed Dogma had been more than justified in executing that karking traitorous Jedi Krell, it seemed that the Republic had disagreed. Another casualty to add to the long list of brothers he hadn’t been able to save.

“What about after that?” he asked.

“CT-7567, Captain Rex,” she said. “Wait, I thought he was a commander?”

“Maybe my source was from earlier in the war,” Kix replied vaguely.

Maree scrolled through the data until she located Rex.

“Ah, here he is. And finally, some good news!”

Kix looked up. “What is it?”

“When I pulled the files, I cross-referenced the Imperial records with those from the Rebellion. Commander Rex was one of a few clones who appeared in both.”

Kix leaned forward in anticipation.

“The Empire listed him as Killed in Action at the end of the war, but the Rebellion files confirm that he survived at least another nineteen years. He fought for the Rebellion, and he was present at many battles, including Endor.”

Kix was stunned. Rex had survived! Not only that, but he’d had a whole life, and he’d gotten his revenge against the Empire.

“He must have been an old man by then,” Kix said.

“That doesn’t seem to have slowed him down much, judging by his activities in the Rebellion,” she said.

“You mentioned that other clones fought in the Rebellion,” he said. “Can you tell me their names?”

“Yes, I found records of at least two others,” she said, scrolling a bit further in her data. “CC-3636, Commander Wolffe, and CC-5576, Captain Gregor. Both participated in the liberation of Lothal. Gregor fell in the battle, but Wolffe survived. Unfortunately, we don’t have any further records of Rex or Wolffe.”

Kix leaned back in his seat, his mind alight with speculation. If Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor had survived that long, maybe more of his brothers had lived long, peaceful lives after the war. It didn’t change the fact that Kix was now the sole surviving clone trooper in the galaxy, but the thought brought him some measure of comfort.

Maree looked tired. Kix stole a glance at the chronometer on the wall and realized it was late in the afternoon. They had spent the entire day combing through individual trooper files.

Maybe we should end the day now, when we at least have found some good news, he thought. We can pick up again tomorrow.

“How many more are left on the list?” he asked.

“Just one more: the natural-born supply officer you listed, Lieutenant Cerra Kilian.”

Kix leaned forward in anticipation.

“According to the files, she deserted immediately after the battle of Coruscant. There’s no other record of her; she just disappeared.”

Kix frowned. What the hell could have happened at Coruscant to make Cerra desert when she’d stayed a loyal soldier even after everything she’d been through?

“That was the end of the list,” Maree said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to locate files on all the troopers you requested. So many records were lost when the Imperial Center of Military Research on Scarif was destroyed, but there is one more possibility that we can explore.”

“What is that?”

“The Imperial Military Records Archive on Coruscant,” she said. “There’s a huge amount of data there that hasn’t been released to the public, but I can access it. I just have to go in person for security reasons.”

“Would they allow you to share the data with me?” he asked.

“I believe they would if we are only accessing trooper files,” she said. “They wouldn’t authorize me to share any sensitive information, though.”

“What could be so sensitive after half a century?” he asked.

“You’d be surprised,” she said cryptically. “There is one complication, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t remove the files from the archive.”

Kix stared at her. “So how could you share them with me?”

“I would need to bring you with me into the archive. I can arrange a visitor pass, if this is something you’d like to pursue.”

“I would appreciate that,” he said.

“I’ll have Teejay set it up,” she said. “It might take a couple of days to make all the arrangements. Can I comm you with the details?”

“Of course,” he said. “Here’s my comm channel.”

Kix made sure to give her the triple-encrypted comm channel that he used when he wanted to make sure nobody from the Meson Martinet crew could snoop in his messages.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll let Teejay know what arrangements to make,” she said.

As she left, Kix crossed the room to stare at the magnificent view. He thought about how Rex had made a life for himself after losing so many brothers. Was it possible that Kix could do the same? He had spent the past year in an agony of grief and regret. Had Rex also suffered the intense guilt that seemed to be the price of survival? What would his captain say to him if they could speak to each other one last time? Kix closed his eyes and tried to imagine. He remembered the times when Rex had come to the med bay after a particularly grueling campaign, laying a comforting hand on Kix’s shoulder as the medic grieved over the patients he hadn’t been able to save. Saleucami. Kiros. Ringo Vinda. So many campaigns, so much death.

Umbara.

That cursed battle had nearly broken Kix. He was a combat medic. He dedicated his entire life to saving his brothers’ lives. To realize that he had ended them instead—that he had killed his own brothers—it was more than he could stand. In the bloody aftermath, overwhelmed by the sheer number of injured and dying clones, he had treated the wounded, helping as many as he could, but it was all too few. After days of triage, Rex had tried to order him to get some sleep. Kix had refused.

“I have to save them!” he’d shouted.

Rex had tried to calm him down, but Kix shoved the captain away as his body began to shake uncontrollably. Rex refused to back down, wrapping Kix in a tight hug as the medic sobbed into his captain’s shoulder.

“Sometimes in war, it’s hard to be the one that survives,” Cody had once said.

But Kix had survived, whether he liked it or not. And now he had to find a way forward, no matter how impossible it seemed to be. As he took a final look at the gleaming city outside the window, Kix decided to take his first step on that path.

When Maree returned to her office a few moments later, Kix had pulled on his jacket. He thought he saw a glimmer of disappointment in her face. Her eyes looked heavy, and a few wayward strands of hair had worked their way out of her hairstyle and brushed across her cheeks.

Stars, she is breathtaking.

“Your face is looking much better,” she observed. “The bacta worked quickly.”

“Is it improved enough that it won’t set the office gossip chain on fire when I leave?” he asked.

“I think so,” she said. “If anyone notices, we can say that we got into a debate about which Jedi was the most reckless general, and things got out of hand.”

“Skywalker, without a doubt,” Kix said. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

She blinked in surprise, and Kix realized that she might prefer to rest after such a taxing day.

“No pressure if you don’t want—”

“Yes!” she cut him off. “I would love to have dinner with you.”

Kix flashed a smile. “How does 1900 sound?”

“Perfect,” she said. “We can meet at my place.”

Kix took his leave and sped back to his hotel, comming the Meson Martinet on the way.

“Reveth, I need a favor,” he said.

---

Chapter 6

Tagging: @blueink-bluesoul @secondaryrealm @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @goblininawig @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99

#dystopicjumpsuit writes #martyrs and kings #tcw fanfic #clone medic kix #tcw kix #sw tcw fanfic #star wars tcw #sw fanfic

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1997yakul · 1 year ago

Text

chapter 3: The Wolf

Men With Cold Exteriors and Kind Hearts, Among Other Great Sights

.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥

summary: After getting a handle on things at your new job and putting your deposit down on your first apartment, you finally feel like you're proving your worth to the adult world. Only, is your catlike, hot, new boss (that smells too good) going to be an issue? Or, will it be the buff, delicate-mannered, heavy lifter that somehow just became your roommate? Either way-- this is fine, everything's okay, because you're grown now and you can figure it out....

Right?

(masterlist) ☆ (monsta x masterlist)

.｡.:*♡ Pairing: boss!changkyun x gender neutral reader ('pretty girl' is used once…sorry I simply couldn’t resist)

Word Count: 5.4k (chap1, chap2, chap3)

✧ Tags: chose your ending!, angst, humor, kissing, swearing, almost sexy time, absolutely broken changkyun iykyk, self doubt/worry/fear, alcohol consumption

✧ Notes: changkyun's ending !!! yippee enjoy

initially published on ao3 on july 11 2023

✩ fic is below the cut! enjoy ✩

Right as the door shuts, you wag your finger repeatedly at Hyunwoo and he throws his arms up in an accusing manner, bobbing his head saying “He did not hear me!” before getting interrupted with your hand clamping over his mouth.

“He literally turned around! And you are too loud! Still!” He laughs, backing out of your hand.

✱

Kihyun and Chaeyoung meet you at the bus stop the Monday after and are cracking up at videos they took of each other at karaoke. There’s a small pang of sadness, courtesy of FOMO.

And then it swallows itself with warmth at the memory of a ride home from Changkyun.

Sitting alone in the seat across from them, you ask to see the videos. Kihyun is belting out some sad ballad and Chaeyoung is recording, creating a very unstable video that trembles with each one of her bouts of laughter.

Kihyun’s eyes widen after you share some of your night with Changkyun to them. Chaeyoung gasps, huddling close and in a hushed voice says, “No, dude— you’re literally dating at this point.” She points to you, shaking her head slowly. Kihyun agrees, mumbling about how shocked he is that anyone could get Changkyun to loosen up.

“I don’t know, I think we are like… friends now. He told me to call him by his first name.” You say, fumbling with a zipper on your bag. Kihyun and Chaeyoung laugh, shocked beyond words. “I’m serious! I’ll show you, I swear.”

By the time you arrive at work with Kihyun and Chaeyoung, Changkyun is in his office, only the top of his head visible upon entry to the floor. It’s the first time since he transferred here that you’ve come in and the shades have been drawn open on his office windows. His head ducked down so you can only see the slicked black hair slide down the back of his nape, feathering out before the collar of his shirt. He wears this grayish suit, a shade of purple peeks from under his ironed suit jacket. It’s powerful, maybe a muted prussian. The light enters the office from behind him, a window perfectly positioned for a view of the entrance. You’re sure it comes with a direct line of vision to his car. You wonder if Changkyun is one of those men that calls his car his ‘baby’ and boasts about it to other higher-ups using explicitly feminine terms in a grimy sort of fashion. You hope he doesn’t. You decide definitely not, but eventually remind yourself that men always seem to; slowly but surely— ease you into their very secretive misogynistic tendencies only after you’ve started really getting to know them. You’ve had your fair share of Tinder dates fall off the deep end because it turned out that ‘non-political’ just means ‘extremely right leaning, but I know if I set it as this I would get absolutely zero pussy. I’m compromising. Surprise! Let’s talk about Ben Shapiro for an hour at this janky pizza place.’ But, he’s certainly not like that… Well… Okay. Chill out. You don’t really know him, stop assuming. This is what happens when you let yourself indulge in your imagination.

You sit down, logging into your computer and clocking in. Chaeyoung says something about waiting for your ‘bestie’ to pop over, and just as she finishes her sentence, the door to Changkyun’s office swings open. He kicks down the door stopper and makes a b-line to your desk. Chaeyoung scrambles to sit down in time, gripping at her arm rests and accidentally launching a pen into the air.

It falls to the carpeted floor with a sad patter at Changkyun’s feet, a shiny pair of black oxford’s. He presses the toe of his shoe on the tip of the pen, flicking it up. He leans over and grabs it midair, his thumb and palm envelope it. Without ever looking Chaeyoung in the eye, he sets it on her desk. “Good morning.” She mumbles out, “Thank you, Mr. Im.”

He turns, laying his forearm along the divider between your cubicle and Chaeyoung’s. “Hello.” He greets, leaning over a little to meet your eye level better.

Your heart fills your chest, thumping hard enough that it reaches your ears. You swallow hard and turn to him. “Hi, Changkyun.”

He cocks his head a little, straightening up and adjusting his sleeve around his wrist. “Mr. Im, right?” He smiles, it’s a little too proud, and now you feel weak again. Kihyun’s expression grows weary. “Can you follow me to my office?” Suddenly, the calm sound of hushed voices and rustling papers halts, and a few heads turn to face you and Changkyun. Your mouth feels dry, and your palms begin to sweat.

“Sure, Mr. Im.” You stand slow, waiting for him to back up a little so you have more room to move— but he just holds his ground. You shuffle around your spinny chair until he starts making his way to his office, then you shove the chair aside and glance at your friends. They are both making crazy eyes, and Kihyun offers a shrug. You shake your head unknowingly.

“Close the door behind you, please.” He says, his voice always grumbling lowly, and you follow his cologne like it comes with a leash. He gives his shades a few twists, just to give a little more privacy. The room gets darker, and he pulls out the chair for you. “So,” he points to your seat before fixing his belt. He leans on the side of his desk, his name plaque new and shiny, gold. “I was wondering if you had any ideas for a company outing.”

“This isn’t about me calling you by your first name?”

He blinks a little dumbly before glancing out the windowed door, heads fire back to their computers at his silent command. “No, I mean. That too, but this means more to me.” He feels up and down his right arm. “Don’t call me that in the office, I’d prefer if we kept it formal at work, you know…” His eyebrows thread together, fighting as he tries to find the right words. “Please.”

You nod, two times very firmly. “Company outing, um…” Checking over to your right, Kihyun and Chaeyoung are peering over their dividers at you. “Well I know some employees really like karaoke.” He nods in agreement, his fingers brushing softly at the tip of his nose.

“And that would be fun, for everyone to go do karaoke?”

“Maybe, like, eat and then do karaoke? Just so it’s an easier warm up.”

He nods, motioning to the door. “Okay, thank you. I’ll take that into consideration.” You stand up, kind of bug eyed, and push the chair back in, leaving with your hands close to your sides. You let the door close quietly before speed walking back to your cubicle. Kihyun and Chaeyoung both lean in to hear what happened, and you wave them off, peeking back at Changkyun. He is nervously pacing around his office, his face adorning a stern, thoughtful look.

✱

It doesn’t take long for the plans to become final, Changkyun sets up a company outing for that Friday, saying it will boost morale and help him get to know everyone better.

Changkyun is about four shots in when he says he is done drinking. He’s got a red flush across his nose bridge and cheeks, and his jaw is looser than usual, not clenched or as serious as he usually keeps it. He says something along the lines of… “Finish this on your own, this is the best I’ll feel all night” or “This is the end for me, I’m perfectly tipsy.” You can’t exactly recollect the wording, but it does something to your stomach nonetheless. The IT guy who sits next to Changkyun laughs hard, obviously more drunk. He unbuttons the top two buttons on Changkyun’s shirt, saying it’s too hot for him to still be wearing his full suit. Changkyun agrees sheepishly, wiggling off his jacket and folding it over the back of his chair.

He runs his hands from his forehead to the crown of his head, stopping there for a moment to scratch a little at his scalp. His mouth fills up with hot air, releasing it through his nose. He rubs his knuckles over his top lip, catching any sweat forming and leans back in his chair. The front legs lift off the ground ever so slightly, and he unbuttons the third button of his shirt on his own. He grabs at the bottom of his papery button up and tugs firmly a few times, enough to get fresh air. His cologne trickles down the table, it’s warm now, usually cold. Humid, and slightly tepid. The room smells of alcohol and heat. Stuffy and masculine. Kihyun and Chaeyoung pass you a shot each, and you take them before your brain can conjure up a reason not to.

The guy sitting across from Changkyun laughs heartily before getting his words out, pointing a hand up in the air. “I have an idea.” He is as drunk as one could get, hiccuping embarrassingly between syllables. “Let’s just do, uhm… let’s all play Smash or Pass.” Changkyun wordlessly shakes his head ‘No,’ lifting an arm from his lap onto the table.

“I organized this, thanks to Y/N” Changkyun starts, his words soft and tender, hand movements flow wistfully. “This was meant to be a way for me to get to know you guys a bit better, I don’t want—”

“Okay, we all know who you’re smashing!” Someone shouts out from your end of the table, and Changkyun shouts back before he can process what he is getting himself into.

“Who would that be!?” He points at the guy asking, his eyebrows uneven and mouth loose. It’s quiet for a second, and Changkyun scans up and down the table to see if anyone really has the gall.

“Y/N.” Someone says obtusely, it’s a statement rather than a question or a suggestion, and a few other people laugh in agreement. Now the table has a weird air of uncomfortableness as people wait for Changkyun or you to respond. The only reason it’s not unbearably awkward is because you can assume not many people will remember this tomorrow. Chaeyoung laughs the absolute hardest, and Kihyun grabs at her shoulders to calm her down. Your body freezes, mid-sip and you blink once, eyes shifting to Changkyun.

His face slowly droops, eyebrows furrowing in a hurt way.

“You couldn’t get mamas in your dreams!!!” Chaeyoung yells, grabbing a wad of dirty napkin and throwing it limply in his direction. Her cry jumpstarts the ruckus once more. The tissue barely makes it an inch towards him, and he only evinces a weak snarl, recoiling ever so slightly.

“Chaeyoung!” You shout, setting down your glass hard enough that it splashes in the cup. “Stop that!” You are tipsy too, and the words can’t come like they would if you weren’t. You feel limp and defeated, and Changkyun’s expression is heartbreaking.

His jaw juts out slightly, his cheeks hollowing as he thinks, and the table grows quiet once again. His eyes scan back and forth down the table at the plates and glasses, shaking his head in disapprovement. “That is…” He stands up, pushing his chair back and stumbling around in his spot, the girl next to him puts her hands up to protect herself as he stabilizes, rocking back and forth slightly between his wobbly legs. He bites at his lip, finally scanning the faces at the table until he meets your eyes. You weren’t thinking about your expression before now, but from his reaction you can tell it was obviously some form of disgust. He shakes his head, “I’m really so sorry.” He says, and a few other people mumble out apologies around you.

He stands up, grabbing something from his pockets as he pushes the exit door open, and the table is met with the most awkward silence you have ever experienced. Two girls whisper amongst themselves, standing up and walking to the bathroom together. Tears spring just slightly at your eyes when you realize the importance of what just happened, and the effect it will certainly have on Changkyun and your friendship. The nice buzz is just setting in, and you stand up and force yourself to follow him out.

“Hi.” You say, gentle as you let the door fall closed behind you. His wide shoulders greet you before he can turn around, the few clicks of a lighter sound out before he turns to face you. A cool gust of wind passes you both by, and his shirt flaps harshly against his chest, his hair ruffled and fucked from him rutting his fingers back and forth through it. “It’s nice out here, wow. Less stuffy.” You smile the words out, hoping he’ll wordlessly agree to forget about the whole thing. He’s got a cigarette between his fingers and he looks down at you, silently. He huffs, exhaling towards the street so the smoke doesn’t hit you, but the wind brings it to your face anyway. You cough a little, eyes tingling as you lift your face up to see him. Tears have filled up his eyes to the brim. His face is dark, and he smirks slightly around his cigarette, using a free hand to untuck his shirt.

He chuckles, dropping his wrist to his thigh, holding his cigarette below. “I’m sorry.” He repeats, wiping his sleeve twice at each eye. You pull his arm down, fingers gripping at his sleeve. His eyes are red, cheeks still rosy. You run your thumb along his waterline, and he wets his lower lip. He taps a little at his cigarette, holding it down by his side.

“Shouldn’t I be the one crying?” You smile up at him, and he finally smiles back. You feel fuzzy. Light on your toes, you run your hand down his cheek, and he melts. His eyes close and his shoulders droop, face sinking into your palm, warm and calm. Two tears run down his cheeks onto your hand, splitting off down into the delicate texture of your skin. “You need this.” You whisper, and he smiles so slightly, face so tired and gaunt. You reach, slow around his waist up to his back, and run your hand down until his spine curves. He leans into you, folding over your shoulder limply. He says nothing, only settles into your body as his breathing slows. He uses one forearm to prop himself off of you, pressing his arm flat against the glass with a sharp 90 degree bend at his elbow, careful not to lean anymore weight on you. You would worry about your coworkers seeing you, but your buzz is perfect, he’s lovely, and the sheer curtains are doing enough for your own level of comfort.

He mumbles, folding an arm around your waist. “There’s so much I want to say, in another setting.” He’s heavy, but gravity feels fake, and there’s a lightness that encapsulates the both of you. “Just— just for now,” He exhales the last of his uneven breaths. “Please take your time with me.” His voice crumbles a bit, like he’s ashamed or knows it’s wrong to ask for this or behave this way with an inferior. The forearm pressed flesh against the glass drops, and he huffs, face craned next to your ear. He’s tired and mellows out over your shoulder, maybe it’s the first time he’s been this honestly exhausted with someone. Like the act is done and over. He’s not unapologetic about it, he’s just ashamed and tired. As if he doesn’t want to be perceived this way, but has realized he has no choice.

You can’t remember the last time you held someone who needed to be held as much as Changkyun. You wrap your arms around him too.

✱

A lot of the employees are missing when Changkyun and you return to your table in the restaurant. Kihyun is patting Chaeyoung on the back as she downs another noodle side dish. Changkyun’s demeanor is completely different, the last second you checked on him before entering the restaurant again, he was bent over and worn looking, like a worn teddy bear with not enough stuffing. Now he was tall and powerful, chest puffed slightly and eyes just a little puffy (he assured one of your coworkers it was the sodium). “So, karaoke?” He says, broadening his shoulders, finishing his suggestion by cupping his hands together. Kihyun mumbles something to Chaeyoung, but she yells out many mushed words of approval before processing anything he says.

“Shhh! It’s fine!” She fawns, twisting around to face Kihyun, who’s worried expression releases into satisfaction.

It’s not a karaoke session in Korea without Big Bang. Kihyun chooses something cheesy and melodic and Chaeyoung tells him to skip it before he gets a word out. They battle over the tambourine and Changkyun only joins in to break them up when Bae Bae comes on and he’s had another few drinks in him, he sings everything flat and his eyes bore holes into Kihyun as he helps Chaeyoung pull off her cardigan. The room is musty and hot, and there’s at least 8 or 9 of you smashed along the couch, exposed skin sticking to the sweating leather seats. Changkyun’s cologne still envelopes the room, and even if you close your eyes to calm down your bouncing heart rate, you smell him and the lavishness of his skin. The dry tobacco scent from his cigarette at the restaurant clings to him. He folds his fingers one at a time over your wrist to get you to stand, a limp tug like he wants you to get up, but isn’t telling you to. You get up anyway.

He points to you, singing T.O.P’s verse like he really means it, kind of wobbling around flimsily. He’s all goofy and sways around the hot room, and taking his free hand to touch those on the couch like he’s a genuine celebrity. You smile big, laughing every once in a while when he fucks up the lyrics and has to stop in his tracks and look back at the screen, having to hang up the charismatic facade as he figures out the words. Once he gets back in the swing of things, he acts like he never stopped in the first place. He’s hypnotic and beguiling like he has always been and rocks his head back and forth, exposing his neck, slicked with sweat like a sacrificial offering. He glances over at you just slightly when he sings “My body wraps around yours so perfectly” and you think it’s all profusely nostalgic, like maybe you dreamt of this as a dinky tween. The only problem is he breaks eye contact two seconds later and grabs hold of another employee and tugs at her sleeve to stand, but it's not like what he did with you earlier, this tug is demanding. He’s desperate. The irrepressible urge to scream grows in your throat, and you whisper to Kihyun that you’re going out to get some air.

It’s a good few breaths you take outside, like finally the cool air can hit you again like it did outside the restaurant. You pull out your phone to mindlessly scroll, just for a minute or two. The clock reads 22:27. Hyunwoo texts you a peculiar gif not a second later, it’s a very specific reference to a conversation you had with him earlier. It feels nice to know he listens so carefully. A gray bubble pops up before you can type a response. ‘How’s it going? Havin fun?’ You smile, your heart tugs a little and you feel grounded again. “Soooo much fun.” A voice grumbles behind you, and Changkyun leans over your shoulder, craning around your back and slipping his arms under yours, his hands folding over yours, fingers aligning as he begins to type for you. “Good?” He breathes out, and you have to turn your head away from him to calm down. Your heart thumps heavily, so heavy and powerful that it hurts, a low droning pain.

He doesn’t send the text before you can turn back around to face him, and he steps back a bit to stabilize himself. You hold your thumb on the backspace until each word disappears, and your eyes meet Changkyun’s for a moment before you look down to your feet. They’re heavy-lidded now, and his hair is still all sorts of fucked up. Your heart pumps at an unbearable rate, and you can hear your pulse through your ears. “Stop being so…” he exasperates, threading a hair behind your ear. Leans in, close enough for his breath to tickle, “…scared of me.”

You have to stretch a little to shake off the haze that’s settling over your mind, and his hands drag from under your arms down to the top of your hips, and they settle along them like they were made to be there all along. You open your mouth, but nothing that your brain skims through can accurately reply. “Okay.” You nod up at him, like you only know obedience.

He dips his head back down, his bottom lip drags over your neck, and he kisses you there once or twice. He lets out these soft little sounds like he’s too excited for words. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbles. “Fuck, so good. So pretty.” Your hand grazes over his neck and slides down until your thumb traces over his collarbone. He kisses less sloppy this time, on your neck again, on your cheek, on your jaw. Avoiding your lips like he’s saving them for later.

He’s been doing shots, you think. “I’m so grateful that I met you.” He whispers over your ear, and his arms wrap further around your waist, inching back up. “You know, earlier…” He starts, carefully, like it’s a sensitive topic that he doesn’t mean to offend with. “Thank you for understanding.” It’s weird, you think. He’s being endearing, or at least he’s trying to. You can feel him in his suit pants and he’s just growing harder. You push him off slow. “It’s okay, yeah?” He’s so drunk he’s barely awake. You can only bite at your lip and look away. More than anything in the world, you would like to fuck Changkyun. Even just once, even if it made your job so much harder and so much more awkward after. You just think it would be so good that it would all be worth it. But he’s too drunk, so you can’t. “I’m drunk, I’m drunk. I really like you, if you like me…” His words get sloppier and guilt pits in your stomach heavier than you can handle. You push him with two fingers back further like you’re really annoyed now, he has to stabilize himself by gripping a railing. You head back inside.

✱

Changkyun is an enigma. It seems with everything in his career, he faces it head on. With you, he’s careful, would never expect a clear answer or decision unless it's statistics on a file. Ever since that night at karaoke, he's cowered away in humiliation. You’re sure he wants you both to forget the whole thing, but it's so difficult with the words he spoke to you circling your head like the last drops of water down the drain. It takes a week before you realize that he’s not going to address the situation on his own, and if you want something to give, you're going to have to be the one who initializes the first push.

You fake overtime, knowing he usually stays later than the rest of you, you text Kihyun and Chaeyoung that you’ll call them after you speak to him and let them know all of the details. As soon as your last coworker wishes you a good night and the elevator doors close before her, your stomach pits like you've just thrown yourself into the lion’s den. It's the worst mistake you've made, and terror envelopes your entire system. You tell yourself in 15 minutes you’ll go knock on his door, sliding headphones on to calm yourself down. Shuffling a playlist a few times, you focus on your breathing while putting some stray pens and papers back into your filing drawer. When you hear Changkyun’s office door open way sooner than expected, your throat dries in an instant, your eyes glued to your desk and you work on trying to become as small and unnoticeable as possible.

His voice penetrates the wall you've desperately tried to build, and you turn quickly to face the direction it comes from, pushing off your headphones so they can fall around your neck. It's only then you realize that your music was never connected to them. You stand out of your chair suddenly. Changkyun looms, his silhouette shaded, one of the few light sources in the room is a lamp behind him. You cock your head slightly at him and he repeats himself: “Narcos.”

Your eyes flicker to your phone, and he's right. You were listening to the Narcos theme, outloud. “Sorry. I thought my headphones were–” Changkyun’s lips frown, and he shakes his head in disapproval, his arms folded over his chest. So you cut yourself short, grabbing your bag in a rush to just get out because the whole thing felt like a mistake.

“Do you know what the lyrics are about?” He doesn't try stopping you from packing away your things or help you clean up, he just watches with arms crossed. You shake your head, slowing down movements, trying to process the situation. “Drowning fear with love.”

“Why didn't you come to talk to me?” You surprise yourself with your sudden outburst, pinching yourself in the thigh.

He sighs like he’s been preparing what he’s about to say. “I overstepped. If anyone was going to reach out again, it should not have been me.” Your heart tugs because he's thought it out and was respectful and right. He was right.

“Why'd you have to drink so much?” Your eyes trace over the darkness that has hidden him so well.

You can hear him smile, and the song still plays behind you. “Because I’m smitten for someone I shouldn't be.” His head tilts down to his shoes on the carpet, a few strands of his slicked hair fall forward. Your heart feels like it's on a linear path to explosion. “Someone I have too much power over already.” He inhales deeply, and you move slowly to face him, releasing the pen in your hand.

“They make me nervous. I care a lot about how this person sees me, and I was worried they saw me as too uptight. So I did the only thing I knew would make me less uptight. Like a jackass.”

“Well doing that to me was the most jackass thing you've ever done, so you’ve got your worries in the wrong place.”

”Smitten” lt tingles in your stomach.

“I’m sorry. I know.” He steps forward twice until he can be illuminated by your desk light, and he looks magnificent. His eyelids hang heavily and he has dark bags under his eyes. The curve of his back as he looks down, his dress shirt flexing over his shoulders as he reaches to put the pen in a cup. “It was gross. I’m a dog.”

“No, idiot. No. You’re so stupid.” You pull the pen back out from the cup and slap it back onto your desk. His eyes light up, widening at your reaction. “You’re not a dog. You made me want you when I couldn't have you.” Changkyun has to tilt his head back slightly to give you room to come closer. “You made me worry for you and then disappeared like you didn’t need me. You’re a cat.” The song slows to a complete halt and the office is completely silent besides the air conditioning stuttering to keep up.

“I do.” Changkyun whispers. “I do need you.” His fingers float around your head like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch. “You wanted me.” He says, and you’re unsure if it’s a question. You don’t care, you nod anyways, pulling his hand to your face like he did to you a week ago. “Pretty.” He mumbles, tilting his head to get a better view. You can barely keep your eyes open, and he places his other hand on your cheek before pulling you close to him again. Back into his embrace, where his cologne suffocates the air around you. You’d be happy to only breathe this air forever. “You’re so pretty.” He wraps an arm around your waist, holding tight enough that your hips push into each other, colliding dully. This time his words aren’t slurred, they’re just kept quiet, like a secret meant to keep between the two of you. “I’m your cat.” Your heart pounds against him, and he pulls both of his arms around to your back so he can take off his watch, sliding it off and setting it on your desk behind you. He lifts you up by your thighs and rests you next to it, your fingers brush the cool metal as you stabilize yourself.

He backs up for a second, just so he can scan over your face for any implication you don’t want him. “I’m, really…” He laughs, looking at his feet before centering himself on you again. Feeling at his cheeks with the back of his hand. “I’m really smitten.”

“Prove it.” You whisper, and Changkyun steps forward again, smoothly sliding a palm around the side of your neck, leaning in slowly, eyelashes hiding his pupils.

“I did already. Don’t you remember when I tried to fuck you after singing?” He smiles, proud of himself now for being able to keep his impulses at bay. You let your head loll from side to side like you’re deep in thought.

You hum a note of approval, “I would’ve let you if I knew you could’ve kept it up for more than a minute. It never lasts when you’re that drunk.” Your fingers brush down the side of his cheek, and Changkyun’s eyebrows thread conspicuously. He situates himself deeper between your legs.

“Let me make it up to you.” His palm lands on top of your thigh, brushing up and down. “You’re too perfect.”

You stare at him, angled down just a little from your seat on the desk. “What did you say earlier…” You prod, pushing Changkyun back an inch with a hand on his chest. “Called yourself a kitty. My kitty”

He shakes his head this time, whatever to get his point across, he’ll take. You drag your nails down the side of his neck, leaning in to press kisses on the opposite side, and needy noises fall from his lips. His shoe twisting into the carpet, he leans further in again, grabbing a fistful of ass as compensation. You make your way over to his lips, finally fulfilling the need. He nips quickly and sharply at your bottom lip, his hand forking through your hair. “Fuck” he groans, “fuck me.” “Please.” His voice mellows out as his phone starts buzzing in his back pocket. You sigh deeply, dropping your face to your hands, his face hot and legs tangled up in his. You pull away at the same time he does, checking it quickly before ending the call without ever picking it up. His pupils are blown out, cheeks are a bright pink, lips plumped and a little shiny from your makeup. You pat at his hair, rutting through knots with your fingers.

“I made dinner reservations for us because I had planned to apologize. Like a boss would.” He catches the hand on his head with his own. “Not how I expected today to go.”

“I’m hungry.” You shrug with a smile, and he eyes you completely baffled. He stares for a moment before shrugging.

“I’m with you.”

“Let’s go, Kitty cat.” You slide yourself off the side of the desk, fixing your skirt as Changkyun fixes your hair.

He halts his hands before letting them fall with a pinch of one of your cheeks. “Don’t let that be a thing, please.”

✱

chapter 1 ☆ chapter 2: "The Bear"

(masterlist) ☆ (monsta x masterlist)

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infranuz · 2 years ago

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vi. operation crash the date | snap out of it

kuina and arisu has arrived way too early to find a good spot where they could successfully eavesdrop your conversation. would you forgive them if you found out they were right behind a bush from where you and karube were sitting? no absolutely not, yet they would make sure you didn’t suspect a single thing. at least to their own accords. arisu had figured out that you and karube would be having some picnic date, not to mention the third date this week already..

even after multiple warnings arisu gave you, you didn’t care to listen and still clung to your feelings for karube. anyway, karube, being the first to arrive, set the whole place up. it looked way too romantic for just a “friends meet up” but not like kuina or arisu could do anything. after a little while of sitting there waiting for you to arrive arisu eventually spotted you walking towards the small set up date.

“i didn’t take you for a picnic date kind of guy” arisu could practically hear you screaming “pls date me” through your words, much to his disliking. “well, I have to do quite anything to please the girl I like no?” it was now kuinas turn to cringe at his words. “So you finally admit it” you looked up at him hopeful.

he couldn’t help but realize at his slip up, he only chuckled and nodded at your words. “You know, I’ve always admired you.” and truly he did, “ever since I met you, you always talked about what you wanted to do in the future, and even after having hard times, you never gave up on that dream of yours. it just amazes me, you’re an amazing person (name)..”

before you could open your mouth to say anything back he quickly changed the subject, he knew that if you were to talk he would only start stuttering “anyway, I bought these really good-” suddenly he could feel a pair of lips intertwined with his, and he knew exactly what it was. as much as he liked you he wanted to pull away and keep you from falling deeper than you already were, yet he couldn’t help it. karube placed his hands on both sides of your head and deepened the kiss.

as you pulled away to catch your breath you caught him staring right at you, had you ever noticed how pretty his eyes were?

a couple seconds later of staring you could feel yourself being pulled against his lips again. you were practically smiling through the kiss, maybe, just maybe this was finally your chance at a healthy, loving relationship. you truly wanted to believe that was the case, and you let yourself believe that.

though, what you didnt know was that your brother was being held back by your best friend right behind the tall bush right in front of you. as much as arisu wanted to crash the date, kuina prevented him from grabbing a hold of his blonde friend and punching him right across the face. as violent as that sounded he really would have done it.

“karube, i really do like you and i would love to be with you if you allowed me to..” you smiled towards him so lovingly, so sweet he couldn’t say no “(name).. Im not sure if I can start a relationship yet, and I don’t want to ask much from you but if you don’t mind, would you wait for me?” he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers together. “I’ll wait for you, don’t worry

— MIO BACK FROM HIS BREAK???? I was being silly… IM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR I MONTH I think.. this chapter is pretty short and horrible but I really wanted to let you guys know I was alive and well!!!! I swear the next chapter is going to be A LOT better, I hope the tag list doesn’t mezzz >.<

tags!! ,, tags!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝!! | if highlighted white, tag doesn’t work💔

@parkersmyth . @surshica . @spaceshattered-skies . @rainqissedd . @saltysoftgrungeofscience . @captivq . @vernon-dursley . @fishisahappydog . @trinmadol . @elernity . @naegisimp . @4vonly . @sincerely-raine . @yvrikoo . @sicksanji . @mxbrahms . @akowbt . @jadedist . @lov-eable . @sunooluver . @nijirosz . @eshtravagent . @brdpch . @kittyrai . @seiksyyki . @celery-o . @4townn . @shinobuily . @hy0ukka . @saiewithakatana . @theinfaethablefig . @huachengsbestie01 . @kokxm1 . @pedropascalkisser . @rssamj

#asalamis #aib chishiya #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya fluff #chishiya imagine #chishiya smau #Spotify

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qu33nincrims0n · 1 year ago

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My Dumb Thoughts on Higurashi- Onikakushi

The first of my Higurashi Reactions I started on Reddit, now with GIFS! These are basically the notes I put down of my thoughts after each chapter.( I'm not sure if long posts like this are seen as okay, so I may break up the later chapters for readability) [also spoilers for Onikakushi, obviously]

Oh, and before I begin, I read the main five in the following voices:

Rena and Keiichi: higher and lower versions of my own voice

Satoko: heavy enunciation

Mion: Peni Parker's Sonic voice

Rika: Cherami Leigh's voice for Sunako in Shiki

any other voice, I'll say when they show up. With that, let's begin!

Well, that was an uncomfortable opening

Ch 1-1

Honestly the fact Keiichi’s mom has no sprite way more unnerving than it should be

Keiichi, you’re gross. Stop that

Oh hi Rika, I can’t wait for you to murder me and/or Satoko and for it to be like big sad.

Tip about the uniforms: ah, either Mion’s relatives are part of some sort of criminal underground, or this is a pervert thing.

Ch 1-2

WHY DOES MION HAVE A GUN?!

Hello?

(Zero Escape 999) Rika giving me some *Redacted* vibes with these rabbits

Yes, this is a cute picnic, but Mion still has a gun, and no one has said anything about it.

Tomitake Is voiced by Kyle Herbert (specifically his Kaito voice). No one can tell me otherwise

Oh, shit a Sanders Statue!

When Rena talks like my great grandpa side stepping topics ‘,:(

Why is there no tip about the GUN?!?! - future me here to say I now know why no one talks about the gun. thank you. -

Ch 1-3

Should have believed in the heart of the cards, Keechi.

So Mion is shady about the 79’ murder too, Huh?

Never let go Sanders!

The XX killer be like:

That moment when you completely redress to grab an axe.

Ch 1-4

Zimbo Zamboo Zombie blasto!

Man, Mion had to be really lucky to fake a tagging. Like how did that even happen?

Ayyyy Tomitake!

I’d love for a pic of the guy who died in 79’ to show up and its straight up Colonel Sanders given the parallels

Ch 1-5

I don’t like the one kid who canonically has a gun is the one proposing a “four demon fire-fight”

Oh hey, it’s like me playing pook. Keiichi has learned to believe in the heart of the cards!

Rika: So, you want to die? That can be arranged.

You insinuating somthin’ Rika? I don’t like that tone

Ch 1-6

Festival time!!

+ Tomitake has joined the party+

Me: *suddenly realizes we now have six ppl for parallels*

Spooky time with Tomitake and new lady (I’ll call her Ms. Clover until I get an actual name) - also I realized later I forgot to give her a voice, so she's british-

And then nothing bad happened.

Ch 1-7

Well this is a funky version of clue… I wanna try it.

Rika, stop saying cryptic stuff like that. Stop it. Get some help.

Ooishi, sir, you look constantly high. I think I'll give you a southern drawl.

NO!! Tomitake!! Oh, and Ms. Clover is missing, I guess.

Oh god, that’s deeply upsetting.

Secret~ agent~ Keiichi~!

Tomitake isn’t you’re name ?!?

Ah so Ms. Clover is Miyo, and she’s a nurse from nearby. Neat.

Ch 1-8

Two events masquerading as one event. They’re evolving…

“You got home safely, right?” sus

Secret member Satoshi has entered the chat

Hmmmm so that cat eye thing is not just Miyo. Hmmmmmmmm

I don’t like Rena-x.

double don’t like this door shenanigan thing. You call that officer back right now! Keiichi!

Ch 1-9

I feel that Keiichi +passes out for nine hours+

The staple of mysteries, gossiping grannies!

Ooishi out here to drop some truth bombs. Oh shit, may have been too much.

Huh I wonder why he censors death in his own mind there? Maybe effects of something.

Keiichi you are so lucky they don’t know your family’s away.

So, either A, there’s a spy network, or B, they can do some sort of vision thing. Not fun either way.

Welcome to the “Keiichi digs himself into a bigger hole” hour. I hope the conclusion of this game is him eventually learning to talk around the truth.

Keiichi if you don’t cut open those Mochi to check them I swear to shogoth!

God damn it.

Keiichi, you currently have an in with the cops, and actual evidence of an attempt on your life. LEAVE! Find safety, Please!

Ch 1-10

What Keiichi’s brain feels like:

I wonder what they would have said if Keiichi had guessed the mochi?

Keiichi: I just have to act normal

Also Keiichi: No I won’t play games because that would be nice.

*Telling parents about the clock* Ah yes, very subtle Keiichi.

TIP: Hmm… is this implying Satako or Rika aren’t fully in the know? Seems the only reason to play it coy like this.

*Casually looks up how long the game is*

Ch 1-11

White van dude:

IDK why but I imagined Keiichi flying back with a twirl like in a fighting game.

Okay Rika definitely knows as much if not more than everyone else.

Man this sucks Keiichi.

Rena: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

Store Tip: huh, does Keiichi have like an eidetic memory or something? Also, hi langolier in my memory.

Ch 1-12

Wait this should be the weekend… *googles* man, tough luck Hinamizawa's a Sunday only town.

Spilling all the beans today, aren’t we Keiichi?

Mion and Keiichi:

(art by @ratt-lord)

Oooo secret past of Mion and Ooishi, sounds interesting.

This cycle? Keiichi do you know something I don’t?

So you’re saying Oyashiro-sama is what, a Cubs fan? God of bats?

That set up with Rena sounds like those guys probably deserved to get beat up.

Wild goons have appeared!

When you monologue so hard you can actually freeze time… HE REALLY IS SHADOW!!!

The Manager? Ryuukishi!?!

Keiichi, Quick! What number was the mochi?

Oh no.

Oh no oh no.

Sorry the most important part was stolen bud. Also, it’s weird they left the white van stuff. Must be pretty confident.

AFTER PARTY

Tomitake!!! You’re Back!

When you are too poor to get a character sprite #Protag-Problems

Love this theory talk. Personally, I’m going with it being people, but the curse is also going on but as an unrelated thing. Also I feel like maybe the girl's astral project or something.

So there's my Reaction for Onikakushi. The later ones have a lot more custom memes, so I hope you like the one I added in here. I'll try uploading Watanagashi some time in the next few days. See You Soon!

#higurashi #higurash no naku koro ni #reaction #long reads #memes #dumb-thoughts-series #so many gifs #humour #visual novel #Onikakushi spoilers

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silvcrignis · 1 year ago

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Hunt A Killer || Verse Bio || Dead By Daylight

“Keira. I’m not pleased. In the slightest,” the tall blonde man suddenly in the doorframe of her office growled.

Green eyes darted up from her pile of paperwork & moving fountain pen as Keira looked back up at Lucifer, head tilted as she thought about what would have Satan seething this way. Both herself & Lucifer had moments where they got very, very angry over the most inconsequential reasons at times but she didn’t think this was exactly that. It doesn’t take her long, both she & Lucifer thought very similarly & her eyes widened as she clicked her tongue.

“You figured out the roster issue? I swear the names that aren’t crossed out on that thing have doubled.”

“Indeed. I have.”

Her next sentence was prefixed by a little cross between a groan & a growl as one hand rose to rub her temple as the other gestured him all the way inside of her lavish working space.

“I know that tone, Brimstone… How bad is it?” she sighed, internally bracing herself as he sat across from her.

Lucifer’s response was a brandished folder which was immediately taken & Keira began sorting through the multitude of photographs (really the Anomalies Department had outdone themselves on this, they needed to arrange some sort of recognition event for that team) & when she had finished she was just as irked as her colleague, her eyes now a flickering orange.

“You cannot be fucking- Something is stealing them?! Why? I don’t even fucking care about how I want to fucking know w h y Morningstar?!”

…Morningstar? She only called him that when she was deadly serious. Good. He needed them to be on the same page, he had chosen her for a reason, but sometimes she didn’t take things as seriously as she should because she knew it would annoy him. Her cooperation was one H E L L of a relief. He could feel the tension melting slightly from his shoulders as he pulled a single folded up paper from his suit pocket, holding it between his index & middle finger as Keira rose an eyebrow at him.

“… Do you want to handle this? I know you’re much better at brokering compromises than I.” he snickered, stretching his occupied fingers towards her.

(He had a point there. She was slightly more flexible though that didn’t mean she was any less ruthless in the end. Lucifer made demands, Keira swathed hers in the guise of a suggestion but they both always got whatever they wanted out of them.)

“Oh. You indulge me far too much sometimes, Your Majesty…”

“We are in Hell, Your Grace,” he reminded her as she took the offering while snickering at his veiled pun.

Lucifer’s naturally hissing voice was coloured with a tone of befuddlement over the phone

“… 500 years? How the fuck did you manage to do that? I figured that slithering sky penis would at least want you for a millennium.”

“Everyone wants me longer but that’s really up to my whims,” she purred back, grinning slightly at Lucifer’s responding snort.

“Anyway, I do have the rest of terms if you are interested. I feel like this is the start of a fantastic working relationship. Honestly a war wouldn’t be worth it. You’ve seen the roster you know our armies would just….”

“Yes, they would. It would be pitiful. But we’d be amused. However the terms would be useful considering the contract delivered to my desk was already sealed.”

“They are indeed going to stop just randomly picking from our roster. In exchange, we’ll make one for them. I actually don’t really mind their little project here besides the pilfering, it looks like something we would do if we had the time, honestly.”

“…Good… Anything else?”

“Pan’s here with me, he decided to tag along. Though there’s no extra stipulations with him, he just wanted to I’m just being transparent.”

“My condolences.”

“Appreciate you for that, I’ll need them. Now on to the best part. It took a little wheedling & eventually I offered the 500 years of servitude before it budged but…”

Lucifer could tell by her tone in her trailing off there was a reason she was saving this part for last & honestly he could indulge her need for begging this time, what she said would be more than worth it.

“Miss Black, if get any closer to the edge of my throne I’ll fall off.”

“Ooh, you’re on the throne right now? Am I on speaker?”

“Of course I am, this is important.”

“Well, in exchange for my good faith offer, if it does get bored of any of its squirmy little toys taken before todays signing… We get them. Not just the ones taken from our roster but their pissy terrified little lab rats too!”

For a moment Lucifer was silent even as the whispers among their gathered subordinates started, a slow, unhinged smile spreading on his face.

“… If I were standing next to you right now, I would kiss you.”

“Hold that thought for five centuries, keeps the euphoria alive. Though. The downside is you will be a solo act for a while again. Think you can handle reclaiming the mantel while I’m gone?”

“I’ll make it. Have fun. Also I know you must be elated sharing a field with Myers but…”

“Yeah. Fucking Ghostface… At least I might get a chance at dropping his goofy ass. Still can’t believe Regina thought I wanted a box set of his shit antics… The first Scream was okay, why the fuck didn’t they stop after that one?”

“To torment & punish you. Specifically. If you need anything…”

“I’ll use the Betelgeuse method, got it. Bye, Lucifer.”

He had already said his own farewell so he was hardly offended when she hung up. As soon as she did she cackled.

“Fucking sucker. I only have to stay in the realm during the trials… I just hate contract duty,” The Hellion snorted, folding her arms behind her head & sauntering off to her own cute little realm lovingly named “The Terror Dome”. Hmmm. She hoped these human fuckbags knew Greek mythology. The Labyrinth would be a GREAT first time theme.

@manufactoredxbyxdesign & @dcmur3 are real ones for liking that post so they get tagged in the l o r e

Also ye das right Albert keep being a bad lad & ur goin to Heck ur ass was on that roster too babyyy 👺

#x: Drabble #x: Verse Bio #x: Another Page (Verse Bio)#v: Hunt A Killer (Dead By Daylight)#c: Keira #c: Peter #c: Lucifer #The s h a d e #The bitchiness #The f u c k I n g sky penis moniker #(Also Regina is a blue skinned NPC demon she the head of Hell’s insurance department)#(I dead ass mean it when I say Hell is political as fuck grjtjo)#(Keira & Lucifer are just two grimy politicians with spooky magic powers I stg)#(Scam artists the pair of them)

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oftomorrow · 2 years ago

Note

1, 3, 6, 7, 10, 11, 13, 15

questions often left unanswered ( accepting // @tnott )

1. Are there any characters in your fandom or faceclaims you refuse to RP with? Who and why? — None that are a hard no, but definitely some characters I’m more reluctant with. If I don’t care for the character, I’m not really going to pursue interactions unless someone really expresses a lot of interest. I don’t want my dislike of the character to bleed out into interactions or make a partner feel like I don’t really want to write with them. I try not to blur IC and OOC, of course, but it can happen, and if I’m not even that interested in interactions in the first place, it’s better to just not. (I don’t follow Mon-El blogs anymore for this reason.)

3. As a mun, what are three of your biggest flaws when it comes to being someone’s RP partner? — I can definitely fall into that anxiety trap of being slow to express interest, start a chat, etc. I don’t always match length, and whenever someone writes me eight beautiful introspective paragraphs and I hit back with like two I feel kinda bad. And... there should definitely be a third thing but it’s not coming to me. I swear I’m not a perfect partner lmao

6. Is there a character that the rest of your fandom adores that you just don’t like/are indifferent to? Who is the character and why? — No one’s coming to mind tbh. Several ships, but no characters.

7. List three honest flaws your favorite character has and talk about how those flaws make them problematic. — Isn’t every flaw problematic? Isn’t that the definition of problematic? Anyway I’m absolutely going to cop out here and link to my meta of Clark’s character flaws, rather than restating things.

10. What’s something you really hate seeing on your dash that seems to be popular with almost everyone else? — I don’t really like dash commentary posts. They sort of assume that everyone is following the same people, and sometimes they feel more vaguebloggy to me than anything else? It’s hard to explain, I just don’t vibe. I just blacklist the tag and move on.

11. What’s your biggest pet peeve when it comes to RPing? — The purple prose-y writing style that intentionally leaves out key words to sound more ‘artistic,’ combined with aggressive overformatting. It’s like you don’t actually want people to be able to read what you’re saying!

13. Who is your least favorite character in the fandom you RP in? List three admirable traits about them. — You’re gonna make me say nice things about Mon-El? Fine. He actually was drastically improved for season three, so. He eventually figured out how to treat Kara with respect without encroaching on her boundaries. He’s generally very respectful to his wife Imra, as well. And he’s clearly a dedicated and selfless hero in the 31st century.

15. Without naming anyone, have you ever refused/simply avoided another RPer in the fandom because of things you’ve heard others say about them, or because of their popularity? If so, why did you feel the need to? — I’ll only consider blocking someone over something like that if there’s a reliable callout with credible evidence proving that they’re genuinely abusive (this is pretty rare tbh, most callouts I see are over petty nonsense) or if I hear it firsthand from a friend that I trust. I’ve seen too many people get called out / cancelled / whatever over basically nothing to trust general rumors.

#tnott #( answered )

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teale-sugarcookie · 19 days ago

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Fighting Off the Vignette

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Fandom: Twenty One Pilots

Characters: Tyler Joseph Josh Dun Clancy (Twenty One Pilots) Torchbearer (Twenty One Pilots) Blurryface | Nicolas Bourbaki

Keons (Twenty One Pilots) Mark Eshleman Ned (Twenty One Pilots)

Additional Tags: DEMA (Twenty One Pilots) Regional At Best Era (Twenty One Pilots) Blurryface Era (Twenty One Pilots) Trench Era (Twenty One Pilots) Scaled and Icy Era (Twenty One Pilots) Clancy Era (Twenty One Pilots)

Language: English

Clocks change, people change, seasons change. Nothing stays the same forever. If you ever have a moment of doubt or feel like you can’t deal with what’s happening. Wait 5 minutes. Wait an hour, a day, a week a month, a year. Just wait. Everything changes eventually.

|-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/

“Joshamillion, where are you hiding man? I swear I saw you come in here.” Tyler squints, looking through the dark space. It’s not pitch black, some light is getting into the room, but a lot of it is obfuscated in gloomy shadow.

He lets out a rather undignified yelp as he literally stumbles into, after patting it a few times, what is undeniably the shape of his best friend. “Hey man, are you alright? I didn’t mean to fall on top of you like that.” He gets a noncommittal grunt in reply.

After a bit more fumbling, he finds a space to sit next to his lump of friend. “So, something is wrong clearly. You don’t have to talk but I will make up stories until I land on one that I like the best.”

The lump sighs. This isn’t the normal sigh of fond exasperation but a bone-weary sigh of mental exhaustion.

“Josh?” The name cracks with an inflection of undeniable concern, causing the one in question to sit up from his previously slumped position.

“I’m okay.” A pause. “I’ll be okay.”

“Glad to hear it. What will you be okay with? I hope it’s not tripping me in the dark. I have delicate bones.” There’s a tiny huff of a laugh.

“We broke up.” There were some missing descriptors there that lead Tyler to mental puzzle through who exactly he meant by this statement. They play around so much with the way they phrase their partnership, their duo, themselves as a band, that for a moment he genuinely thought Josh meant the two of them had broken up.

Before any true concern could creep in, Josh nudged him gently, managing to look somewhat, no matter how faintly, amused in the dim lighting of the space they were sharing at the moment. That’s when it clicked. Josh had a girlfriend. Emphasis on had apparently. That made way more sense and helped him to release the tension in his shoulders he hadn’t realized was there but had likely clued his friend in to the fact he was mentally on the wrong path at first.

“That sucks.” That was an understatement. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” He shook his head.

“It does suck and I don’t really want to talk about it. We’re still … well friends is a strong word probably. Friendly?”

“Friendly is good. Do you think you will get back to friends?” He looks down, studying his fingers with a focus usually reserved for when said fingers are holding drumsticks in active use.

“I hope so.” He says finally, looking every bit the image of a sad puppy.

“Well, you know how you can take your mind off it?” He looks at him, head cocked questioningly. “Tag, you’re it.” With those parting words, he pats his friend on the shoulder before scrambling up and away. He wasn’t much of a runner, and Josh kind of was, so he could only hope and pray his head start would be helpful.

Josh sat dumbfounded for a moment before his brain came back online and the chase began.

|-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/

The backstage area looks much the same as many of the venues the duo has performed at. This is their first time at this particular location in this particular area though and it seems this fact has caused a bit of jitters.

“This is cool. This is totally cool.” Josh can’t quite tell if Tyler is making a statement or trying to get himself to believe what he is saying.

“Totally cool.” He agrees, turning to face his friend and gauge his reaction. He’d be lying if he said he was completely free of nerves, but he was confident enough in their abilities to be able to keep most of his reaction internal. Besides, Tyler has the harder half of this deal and him being nervous makes sense.

Since he turned to face the other man, he is easily able to see when his eyes dart in his direction, seemingly to gauge his reaction. There’s a brief moment of eye contact and he smiles reassuringly. He sees the other relax an infinitesimal amount but anything is better than what it was.

“Have I ever told you that if I’m ever nervous, seeing how not nervous you look helps?” Josh takes a small moment to be surprised, eyebrows raising slightly at the statement, before responding. (1)

“Not in so many words but I kind of got that idea.” Tyler stands up straighter, brushing off some imaginary dust from his shirt.

“Well, don’t let it go to your head or anything.” Josh just snorts.

“No, of course not. Only room for one giant ego and that spot is taken.” He gets the stink eye and he holds a hand in front of his mouth to cover up his snicker.

|-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/

“This is both really cool and slightly overwhelming. I kind of can’t believe we have enough traction over here to be touring. The label didn’t like accidently book the wrong band or something did they?” Josh can’t help the quiet snicker that escapes him.

“Pretty sure it’d be hard to get us missed up with one of their other bands. Besides, I got this. I told you I’ve been out here before.”

“Oh yea, Josh the international expert. Alright smart guy, how do you say hello in Korean.”

“Annyeonghaseyo” Tyler holds a finger up like he wants to protest but he doesn’t actually have an argument. He probably should have asked a question he actually knew the answer to.

“You win this round sir.” Josh just grins at him as they continue their trek down the street.

|-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/

“I’m going to make fun of you if you break the pen from tapping it so hard.” Josh pouts slightly and stops drumming with the pen. He hadn’t intended to starts beating it against the table but it was an unconscious action born from his nerves. Other than that, no one would have really known he was nervous as he was.

“Tyler, you make fun of me a lot of the time for a lot of things. I’m sure you’ll think of something else.”

“True, but we need the pens. What are you so anxious about?” He lets out a deep breath.

“There’s just, supposed to be a lot of people coming and I don’t want to mess it up. Usually, we preform first and that’s fine. I can do that easy. Today they’re just coming to talk to us. What if I say something dumb or what if my signature looks stupid.”

“All signatures kind of look stupid, so I think it’s okay.” Josh snorts a little bit. “You’ll be fine. If they really like us, they won’t notice if you say something weird and if they do just smile at them and distract them with your handsomeness, easy.” Josh rolls his eyes but he does relax a little.

“Thanks, sorry for being so anxious.” Tyler throws an arm around his shoulder and tugs him into a short halfway hug.

“Dude, you’re anxious like 45% of the time. If I was upset about it, you’d know by now. We’ve only been best friends for like four years. You don’t have to apologize for it. I also get anxious, just about different stuff. We gotta keep a balance. If we get anxious about the same stuff, then we’re in trouble. Jenna will have to come collect us from the service desk or something.”

“You’re right, sorry.” Tyler pinches him on the shoulder his arm is around and he jumps slightly in the chair.

“Cut it out.” Josh just looks slightly bashful but much cheerier than before.

“Thanks man, even if you do give questionable pep talks, it helped.”

“I live a questionable life style. I get paid to run around a stage jumping off of things and screaming. Most people get sent away for that kind of thing.”

“The jury is still out on the decision.”

“Wow, this is the thanks I get for helping you in the throes of crisis. I might need to consider getting a new drummer.”

“You’re gonna kick me out of the band after all that work getting me to relax?” Tyler seems to consider this for a moment.

“You know what, you’re right. You can stay for now. You’re on thin ice though, buddy.” He wags a finger at him and Josh nods, pretending to be chagrined.

After a while, the fan meet up finally started and the line of people that had amassed were finally allowed to come forward into the space they were waiting. It was amazing how many individuals of different backgrounds and ages had come just to see them. They signed autographs and took pictures, listening to stories of how their music helped people through tough times and good times both. Getting this opportunity to meet the people their music connected with really helped to solidify that this whole endeavor was worth it.

“Hi.” Josh cheerful greeted two guys that had just stepped up to them. There was no sign of the nerves he’d had previously.

“Hi Josh, hi Tyler. I’m so happy I was able to meet you guys today.”

“We’re happy to meet you too.” Tyler tells him genuinely smiling. He smiles back, expression wavering slightly with nerves.

“I just wanted to tell you, how much your music has helped me. It’s really given me confidence and myself and made me feel less alone. It’s even given me the confidence to come out to my family and friends.”

Tyler, was about to respond how happy he was that his music was enough to give someone the strength to do that when his eyes drifted over to the friend of the guy talking to him. At some point during his spiel, the friend’s eyes had gotten wide and his mouth was open in shock. That’s when it clicks. This was his coming out, right here in front of their eyes. Tyler glances over at Josh who looks frozen mid signature. After a moment of collective shock, he speaks up.

“I’m really happy to hear that.” He sounds sincere, if not slightly taken aback by the situation they found themselves in. “Do you guys want a picture?” (2)

|-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/ |-/

“This is nice. It kind of reminds me of old times.” Josh turns his head to look at his friend and bandmate, a somewhat incredulous expression on his face, that is partially covered by the shadows of the dim light.

“What old times? The times from like two years ago? Are we calling that old now?” Tyler, ignoring the tone, nods.

“Yes, we’ve come so far. I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“It was yesterday.”

“Do you remember the time we played for that frat party and the police came?”

“Tyler please.”

“Or that time we played in a bar and the only people who were there was the staff?”

“That happened a few times.”

“Or the time_” Josh, fondly fed up with Tyler’s antics, jabs his fingers into his ribs and cackles at the near squeal the other man let’s out, the sound cracking through the quiet of the nighttime air like a whip.

“Are you quite done?” Josh asks with raised eyebrows, fingers posed to resume his attack if deemed necessary.

“I am so finished, completely done, yup. I don’t even like talking.”

“That may be the biggest lie you’ve ever told me.” He lays back down, directing his attention to the foreign sky and the constellations that fill it. “I don’t remember the stars being this bright back home.”

“Light pollution.” Is the simple response, as he settles back into a gazing position as well.

“That makes sense. Oh look, a shooting star.” He points at the astral body, streaking its way across the dark speckled sky. His eyes shut and his lips move slightly in a silent wish. After a moment, they open again and he looks over at Tyler. “Did you make a wish.”

“Yes, of course. Can’t miss out on free wishes.” He scoffs, like this is extremely obvious.

“What’d you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you; it won’t come true.” Josh ponders this a moment.

“I thought that was only blowing out birthday candles.”

“No, it’s all wishes … I think.”

“Just tell me anyway.”

“I wished we’d be together forever.” He meant for this to come out jokingly but it must have sounded too sincere because suddenly Josh is looking at him, soulful brown gaze locked on him in a mixture of mild shock and awe.

“Really?”

“I, no of course not.” He stumbled over his words slightly. “Why would I want to be stuck with you forever?” He keeps staring at him, not taking the bait and Tyler deflates a bit. “I mean, kind of.”

“How do you kind of wish to be together forever?” He asks, no judgment in his tone, only curiosity.

“I wished that we’d make it as a band and that we wouldn’t ever break up over something stupid, like some bands do, and that we’ll keep playing until our hips hurt and our kids are begging us to stop singing.” Josh smiles at him.

“Oh, that’s cool. I just wished for a pizza.” He laughs at the shove he receives. “I’m joking, obviously me too. It was my dream to play with you. I want to do that for as long as I can.”

“Maybe we do share a brain. I have more of it though, let’s be clear on that.” Josh just nods, amicable. “My half must have the part that tells you to fully dry off when I take a shower, unlike some people.”

“That’s such a waste of time tho. Air drying is fine.”

“You have to be touching the air to air dry. You get dressed and then your clothes are all wet!”

“It’s fine.” Tyler, let’s out a long-suffering sigh and they go back to watching the stars.

#twenty one pilots #Fic #FotV

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