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#I. Can't tell you how ecstatic I was when I got those light-eyes lining my body in Vahana form I felt so real and Me and back at home and
blackvahana · 3 months
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Yeah. The. loss of my eyes is really. indicative of something, isn't it. I mean it's a topic that deserves being excplit about, so as I said it's indicative of me not taking myself seriously. I constantly feel like I need to play human and acknowledge I'm human and be human but at the end of the day... What I am and not exists and doesn't exist regardless of how much I play it up or down. It exists whether I acknowledge it or not. Truth is just going to exist and doesn't need defending to be real
I have just. forced myself into a box where everything I am and was has had to be forced into said box, distorting it, and sometimes outright beating it to a pulp to get it to fit into shapes it isn't built for. I shouldn't have to distort my shape to fit a box made for me; if somethings true I shouldn't have to brutally force myself into it to fit in it. Not talking about being human or not being human, talking about everything atm
For years, I had those eyes. My eyes. I didn't need to do anything to display them. Why now do I need to work to show them for a little while before they fade again? There's two main possible answers here, it's a matter of "I have changed so they aren't real now/they were distorted understandings of self so they were never real" or. you know
My entire personality and spiritual life is built on the notion of lack inherent to my system, that I am detached from myself and need to work to scrape together some kind of minimal connection, minimal recovery of self. Anyway. I see Lev vividly now lmfao hi
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chrissv4mp · 2 months
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౨ৎ lacy black pair with the little bows
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— word count : 4.3k
★ sum: you listen to billie's new feature, and you can't help but notice that more than half of her lyrics are directed toward you.
☆ pair: fem!reader × billie eilish
★ cws: smut, language, spit, oral, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, crying, mommy kink, degradation, dirty talk, masturbation, strap-on sex, etc.
☆ a/n: well...... haven't written for like 4 years (days), but i'm back !! (maybe...)
★ a/n 2: i lied, you're getting this way earlier than u should've.... (my break from writing is long overdue i need to get back on here 💔)
— tags : @livialifesblog @mseilishmwah @mxqdii @sophloveswomen @devynscomet @her-favorite @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33
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your thumb quickly taps on a newly released music video, a video starring charli xcx, and your girlfriend. you heard the song already, millions of times, actually. it was one of your favorites on the album, and you were ecstatic when you found out that billie got to star in the music video and also put a little twist to the song.
you bit down on your lip in an effort to contain your excitement, a light pink hue flushing your cheeks and ears as your eyes darted around at every extra in the video. they all looked amazing, but the person you wanted to see right now was billie. you wanted to know what she was wearing in the video and what lyrics she wrote for it. her mind worked in such a beautiful way that you couldn't help but get excited.
a squeal left your throat as your girlfriend finally came on screen. she looked good. really good. you couldn't help but blush profusely as you stared into her eyes in awe, causing you to miss half of her lyrics. you quickly skipped back, though, chewing on your bottom lip out of excitement to hear the words. when your ears finally picked up on the words coming from her between her lips, letting out a quiet gasp as your face got impossibly hotter.
"don't have to guess the color of your underwear,
already know what you've got goin' down there."
a quiet hum fell from between your own lips, a big smile plastered on your face as your eyes continued to follow wherever your girlfriend went on screen. the next line of lyrics made your eyes widen subtly, catching on to who she wrote her lyrics about. did she write them about you? your thighs squeezed together at the thought, breath hitching.
"it's that lacy black pair with the little bows,
the ones i picked out for you in tokyo."
you remember that night very well. when she took you on her trip to tokyo for her tour promo. she insisted on exploring the city with you, explaining in great detail how she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you and how she wanted to experience new things with you specifically. and that eventually led to her dragging you into a mall and taking you into victoria's secret, then surprising you with a pair she wanted you to try on.
she really couldn't get her hands off you when she saw them on you, hugging your hips just right and making her appetite for you even bigger. she wanted to taste you, so that's exactly what she did. right in the dressing room, she ate you out like a starved woman. you couldn't say you didn't enjoy it. the adrenaline you got from the fact that anyone could interrupt you or even accidently walk in made it all the more pleasurable.
she bought them for you without hesitation, and you quickly found out those were her favorite pair. the way the light pink bows decorated the thin, lacy fabric, and the way they fit you just right made her absolutely insane. whenever you would walk around the house in just underwear, she would be right at your feet in seconds, tugging at the fabric in an effort to pull them down.
"i saw them when you sat down, they were peekin' out.
i'm gonna tell you right now they're all i'm thinkin' about."
her words affected you much more than you'd like to admit. the way her plump, pink lips moved to sound out the syllables of each word she spoke, it made you crazy. she was teasing you through the fucking screen, and you couldn't do anything about it right now.
"fuck." you mumble, the end sounding as a whine as your head lolled back onto the couch cushions. she wouldn't be home for another hour, and you knew she hated whenever you touched yourself without her clear permission.
how could you resist, though, when she spoke such filthy words? her tone of voice didn't help your situation, either. it was low and raspy and had just a hint of seductiveness settled in. the way she sang had your heart pounding and your pussy throbbing, eyelids threatening to flutter shut as you continued to watch.
"i wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it,
pull it to the side and get all up in it."
you couldn't take it anymore. sure, you could've shut off the video and tried to distract yourself, but you really didn't want to take your eyes off the gorgeous girl. instead, your free hand slid down your body, caressing your own soft skin gently before dipping beneath the waistband of the pair of panties that your girlfriend loved so much.
a choked sigh of relief fell from between your lips as your index finger ran through your wet folds. the hand on your phone only gripped the device tighter, eyes trained on billie as she moved around in the music video. she looked so sexy you couldn't help but moan out into the empty house, hips bucking against the pads of your fingers.
"billie—mhh.." you whimpered quietly, teasing yourself by only dipping the tips of your index and middle finger into your pussy. just like billie would do if she was here. she would call you a slut for getting so worked up just by watching her through a screen. she'd edge you the whole night if she saw you in this position, actually.
"kiss it, bite it, can i fit it?
charli likes boys, but she knows i'd hit it."
the way she moved her head side to side as she sang the lyrics reminded you of the countless times she's done that while in between your legs, eating you out like you were her last meal. she was always so eager to please you, taste you, hear you.
your fingers stopped when you heard the last line, though, pausing the video quickly as a pang of jealousy hit you. that only fueled the fire in your lower stomach. it fueled your urge to further disobey her and make yourself cum over and over again by yourself. you wanted her to walk through the front door and instantly be met with your throaty moans and the disheveled, fucked-out appearance of yourself while you continued to thrust your fingers in and out of your swollen pussy.
the thought alone made you wetter, and this time you fully plunged both fingers inside of your pussy. a moan sounded throughout the house as you tossed your phone to the side of the couch, head lolling back as you spread your legs further out. you imagined they were billies fingers pounding relentlessly into your tight hole, never stopping even whenever you tried to push her hands away.
quiet gasps soon turned into throaty, desperate moans of your girlfriends name. your hand gripped the pillow beside you, bottom lip swollen from all the biting you had been doing previously. the way her hands moved on the steering wheel of the tractor made butterflies swarm in your stomach, her ring-clad fingers making you crave her touch even more.
a thought popped into your mind, your fingers faltering in pace for just a moment before they picked up speed again. your grip on the pillow loosened, reaching around on the couch to find your phone. when you finally grabbed it, you unlocked it and opened up the camera app, pointing the phone down at your thighs. as you snapped the picture, you let out a breathy chuckle as your eyes scanned it. your hand was visible through the thin fabric of your panties, and the obvious wet spot just made your smile bigger.
you didn't think about the consequences before sending the photo to billie with a teasing text, "still thinking about them, or did i wear these for nothing?" then your phone was tossed to the side once again as you got lost in your pleasure, eyes rolling back as you curled your fingers just right and hit that one soft spot inside of you.
it didn't take long for your phone to start vibrating, the screen lighting up with a picture of you and billie and her contact name showing in bold at the top. you would've answered if you weren't so caught up in the need to cum, drowning out everything around you as you got lost in the fantasy of your girlfriend plunging her fingers deep inside of you while her lips wrapped around your swollen clit.
a low whine sounded in the room as you clenched around your digits, bucking your hips wildly against your palm as it continuously grazed your swollen bud. a hand came up to grope at your tit, rubbing your nipple through the thin, white baby-tee you wore. when your fingers curled again, you lost it, letting out a high-pitched moan as your back arched away from the couch cushions. your juices coated both of your digits as you pulled them away after a few moments, whining at the empty feeling.
grabbing your phone once again, you opened the camera app and spread both your index and middle fingers, snapping the photo when the web of your cum was visible. a cheeky, flustered smile formed on your face as you flipped the phone camera. this time, you recorded your filthy actions. you slowly brought your fingers up to your mouth, sticking your tongue out in a seductive manner before placing both of your wet digits on the muscle.
your lips wrapped around your own fingers, and your eyes fluttered closed as you let out an exaggerated moan, tongue swirling around them as you thrusted them in and out of your mouth. billie wasn't gonna be nice tonight. you knew that. but you didn't care about the consequences right now because she was just so fucking fun to tease. she always got so worked up and flustered, you couldn't help it.
you stopped the video after you dragged your fingers out from between your lips slowly, making sure to give billie a show. then, you sent it without a care in the world before placing your phone down on the coffee table. she wouldn't be back soon anyway, so she'd have time to calm down.
— a loud slam echoed through the house, and your lips quickly curved into a mischievous smile as you got off yours and billies shared bed. it didn't take long for her to call your name, the tone of her voice clearly showing off her anger, "y/n, where the fuck are you?"
her eyes darkened as she watched you walk down the stairs like nothing happened. they traveled down your body, catching sight of the panties you wore in the picture you had sent her earlier. she couldn't believe you actually had the nerve to touch yourself without her present. as you stood at the bottom of the staircase, an innocent grin on your face, she bit her lip out of... she didn't even know.
"c'mere, now." her voice was quiet, the tone of her voice laced with anger and lust and emotions you couldn't even catch. you obeyed her commands, skipping off the final step before making your way over to the girl that still stood at the front door. the way your hips swayed as you walked was addicting to billie, her own urges becoming hard to contain. when you were finally in arms reach of billie, you stared into her ocean blue eyes and just smiled, humming as you tilted your head to the side.
she mirrored you, tilting her own head to the side but keeping the same stern look on her face as she analyzed your own. before she spoke, her hand came up to grab your face, her fingers pressing harshly against your cheekbones and causing your lips to part slightly, "you think it's funny to tease me while i'm out workin', huh?"
you stayed silent, eyes darting around her face and admiring her many facial features. the freckles that were only noticeable if you paid real close attention to her. your mind didn't process her question until after she shook your head side to side for a few seconds. you gasped before stuttering out a quiet response, "'ts not my fault. you were the one who started it, bils."
a toothy smile formed on her face, a quiet chuckle coming from between her perfect lips before she spoke, "how did i start it, babygirl?" her voice alone made your knees weak, wobbling for a moment before you composed yourself and spoke up, "the video," you whispered, and billie just scoffed as she pressed harder on your cheekbones.
it made you whine, cheeks flushing a light pink hue as her lips parted to speak again, "oh? was it the video, or was it the lyrics, mamas.?" you only stared back at her with a knowing look swirling in your pupils, and billie chuckled again, "it was both."
you nodded in response, hands moving to paw at your girlfriends close in a weak effort to try to get her to touch you. that's all you wanted ever since you finished the video, "you were the one who wrote those lyrics. you told me to watch the video and you—" you grumbled, and billie quickly shut you up by giving you the look that always made you crumble.
"no, no, it's not my fault. i think it's your fault for being such a needy slut, actually. you only had to wait a few more minutes and i would've been home to relieve you," she whispered, that stupid, sexy smile on her face never leaving, "but you couldn't wait, could ya? such a fuckin' slut you can't even wait to cum. 'm'gonna teach ya tonight how to be patient soon,"
"not tonight, though. you wanted to cum so badly so i'm gonna make you cum," you knew what that meant. yeah, she'd make you cum but she wouldn't stop until she was satisfied. she wasn't gonna stop until you were crying and begging her to stop.
a low whine ripped through your throat as you pouted your lips, batting your eyelashes at billie in an attempt to get out of the punishment. she replied by shaking her head slowly, biting down on her lip as she let her eyes travel over your body, eventually landing on the lacy panties you wore.
"y'look so sexy, mama," she groaned, letting go of your face to grab your hips. she walked toward you, resulting in your own feet taking you backward until the backs of your knees hit the couch and you were forced into a sitting position. billie quickly dropped to her knees, spreading your legs with her veiny hands as she settled herself in between them.
her eyes couldn't decide where to stay, dragging over every inch of your body hungrily as she ran her thumbs along the exposed skin of your thighs. before you could complain, she dipped her head low and began to trail kisses along your inner thigh, so close to where you wanted needed her the most.
as she dragged her tongue up your thigh. you gasped, hands moving around for something to grab onto. she chuckled softly at your reaction, hooking both of her index fingers in the waistband of your panties and slowly, teasingly sliding them off your thighs, legs, and then your ankles. a look of confusion masked your face as she held them for a few moments before tucking them into the back pocket of her baggy jeans, eyes darkening even further as she kept eye contact.
then her hands were back on your skin, the cool temperature of them causing you to shiver as she caressed your thighs once more. she scooted closer this time, licking her lips as she finally caught sight of how soaked you were, "need you, bils. fuck—need you s' bad,"
billie hummed in response, not wasting another second to run the tip of her tongue through your folds, starting at your entrance and stopping at your clit. she repeated the motion a few more times, pleased at the breathy gasps you gave her in return. her tongue dipped into your hole when she licked back down, moaning at your taste as her eyes fluttered shut.
a breathy moan sounded throughout the room as her tongue began to thrust in and out of your pussy, your hands finally finding home tangled in billies hair. your hips instinctively bucked against her tongue, head lolling back onto the cushions just as it did a few hours prior. she was better with her tongue than you were with your fingers, fuck, you could've came on the spot.
"mmh, taste s' good, y/n.." she groans, the words muffled by your pussy. the vibrations of her voice make you whimper, eyes squeezing shut as you feel her tongue delve deeper into you. when your thighs begin to close around her head, she pulls away. your immediate reaction is to whine, hands pulling her close to your core again.
billie slaps your thigh softly, a silent warning not to piss her off as she would only add on to the punishment. when she got close again, though, she spat right onto your clit and then began to rub her index and middle fingers in slow, tight circles, "feels good, huh?"
you only nod, smiling stupidly as you sigh, "yes, yes, fuck yes..!" a moan rips through your throat as she finally dips both of her fingers into your entrance, her pace immediately picking up. the wet squelching sound of your pussy fills the room and billies ears, and she whimpers at the sound.
she fucking whimpers and you think it's by far the hottest thing she's ever done while in between your legs. her eyes are closed, so focused on sucking your clit harshly as her fingers pump in and out of you. the way she whispers soft praises against your pussy drive you crazy, the vibrations just making the whole situation so good.
"'m'gonna cum, mommy—mhh, fuuck.. please? please, need—lemme cum?" your words are jumbled up versions of every sentence you replayed in your head, trying to pick out the best one in hopes that she would actually let you cum on her fingers and tongue. what you didn't expect her to do was continue, but this time curling her fingers each time she reached a certain depth and rubbed against your weak spot, "yeah, mhmm—right.. right there! fuck, please don't stop,"
you didn't care if you sounded desperate right now. you wouldn't deny that you weren't desperate because you were, you were so close to your release, and you needed it. badly. the orgasm that you gave yourself would never come close to the way billie made you cum. she was so skilled with her fingers and her tongue and just everything.
she couldn't take her eyes off your face. the way your nose scrunched up in the slightest and the way your pretty lips were left parted to let out those beautiful moans of yours. your eyelids struggled to stay open, and billie smirked against your heat. she added a third finger, and you almost came on the spot, eyes rolling back as you tugged on her hair harshly.
her moans fell right into your pussy, the feeling of your hands tugging at her black locks both painful and pleasurable, "fits jus' perfectly, mama. wish you could see how well you take me," she mutters, thrusting her fingers in deeper if that was even possible. the stretch stung, but it also felt like the best thing in the world, "c'mon, cum around my fingers, know you wanna."
that was all you needed to let go. the knot in your stomach finally snapped as your thighs trembled, subconsciously closing them as billie continued to thrust her fingers into you, this time at a softer and slower pace. your breathing was erratic, mumbling half-finished sentences and, of course, billies name.
she didn't stop even after you calmed down, though, quickening her pace once she knew you were fully aware of everything going on around you. your eyes rolled back again as you felt butterflies swarming in your stomach once again. the overstimulation only made your thighs shake more, your pussy clenching around her fingers as you tried to protest.
"take it." is all she says, leaning her head against your thigh as she smiled up at you. her thumb took place of her mouth, rubbing tight circles on your clit as her other fingers worked on fucking you hard and fast, "you wanna act like a needy slut? i'll treat you like one, baby." her words only added to your overstimulating pleasure, and now you didn't know what you were begging for.
a choked moan rips through your throat, and now you're releasing all over her fingers once again. your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath you take, body falling limp against the couch as your thighs tremble around your girlfriends head. when you've come down, she finally pulls her fingers out and sits herself next to you. you gasp when she pulls you onto her lap, her eyes hooded and her lip caught between her teeth.
"open," she whispers, her voice laced with seduction. and, so you do, sticking your tongue out and taking her three fingers into your mouth. you wrap your lips around her digits, reaching out to grab her forearm so that she won't pull away. your tongue moves in between her fingers like you did with your own an hour prior, eyes fluttering shut as you moan quietly, "there's my girl. so obedient."
you whine when she pushes her hips up against your exposed core, the feeling of the strap beneath her pants making you grind down on her jeans, "can i fit it in that tight pussy of yours?" she asks condescendingly, raising an eyebrow as she tilts her head to the side. you nod eagerly as your hands begin to work on her belt.
billie just smiles at your eagerness, pulling her fingers out of your mouth before she throws her shirt over her head. her lacy bra barely covers her tits, and you pause for a moment to stare. when she pushes her hips up again, you take the hint to finish what you've started and help her slide her jeans off.
they pool around her ankles, and you bite down on your lip at the size of the indigo strap. it wasn't like you hadn't taken it before. it was the question she had just asked you. before she could even speak again, you lined the dildo up with your entrance, sinking all the way down in one go. your head fell back, a guttural moan echoing in the room as you began to roll your hips slowly.
billie whined quietly at the way your pace picked up quickly, her eyes scanning every inch of your body with a look of hunger swirling in her pupils. her hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements as you bounced up and down on her lap, her cock filling you up perfectly, "jus' like that, yeah. shit, you look even better with my cock fillin' you up, princess."
the new pet name makes you shudder, head falling forward as your hands find their way on billies shoulders to stabilize yourself. your noises are quiet, whimpers and whines leaving you. your legs never stopped trembling even as you sunk all the way down. you cried out in pleasure as billie pushed her hips up, the strap hitting places your fingers could never.
you nod stupidly as her grip on your hips tighten, pulling you down on her strap harshly as you pick up your pace. the quiet whimpers your girlfriend lets out don't go unnoticed by you, a pleased smile taking over you face as you hide your face in the crook of her neck. your lips find her skin, kissing and sucking softly to create very visible marks.
"s' big, mommy—fuck." you moan against her neck, the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten. it gets tighter each time she bats her eyelashes at you, it gets you so much closer whenever she even speaks a word to you. her lips just look so kissable and fuckable and—
you capture her lips in a hungry kiss. it's uncoordinated and sloppy due to the combined neediness of you both. billie smiles into the messy make-out session, practically devouring your face as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. you're the first one to slide your tongue over her lips, silently asking for entrance, which she gladly accepts. your tongue explores her mouth, sometimes clashing with her own tongue in a fight for dominance. you have no idea how, but you win.
when you finally pull away, you drag her bottom lip out with your teeth. your eyes are looking straight into hers and, oh my gosh, she could cum from just that alone. a few more bounces on her cock and you're hips ate finally stuttering, struggling to keep up the pace you set as your grip on her shoulders tighten.
"bouncin' on my cock like such a slut, huh. bet you'd do this to any girl in your sight, right?" you shake your head the best you could, babbling something that sounded like, "no, only you." billie just scoffed, thrusting her hips up harder and faster as she holds your own. the slapping sound of skin echoes in the room, followed by the moans coming from your dry throat.
"cum," your chest heaves up and down, eyes squeezing shut as your body falls against hers. your orgasm hits you hard, and you swore you saw stars behind your eyelids as you rode out your high. billie smiles as she feels you fall limp against her, her hands coming to your back to pull you closer to her body, "did so good, mama,"
you nod weakly, eyelids ready to flutter shut once again as you hide your flushed face in her neck. when she thrusts her hips up again, you cry out, "but we're not done yet."
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libraryofgage · 3 months
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Addams Family B-Side (6)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually
Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One | Two Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two | Three Leverage Crew One
Hi it's been a fucking minute since I updated this one orz thank you so much for your patience, y'all
Anyway, this fic was line-jumped, and it's one of two jumps I received on kofi. If you'd like to learn more about line-jumping your favorite series, you can read this post
There are three memes at the end for you <3
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :^)
---
The first time Steve got expelled, his father picked him up from school while his mother stayed to chat with the principal. He was twelve at the time, confused about what he'd done wrong, and feeling validated by his father's ecstatic praise of his initiative.
He'd wound up in Grandmama's kitchen, sitting cross-legged on the island while Wednesday added spider legs to a mixing bowl. Fester had gone off the find Gomez after telling Wednesday to keep an eye on Steve. She'd immediately turned away after Fester left the room.
"So," she said, idly stirring, "you've been expelled. What for?"
"I brought rattlesnakes to class."
"Why?"
"We were learning about snakes. I thought the teacher would appreciate live examples."
"How many?"
"Twenty seven. One for each student."
"Did they bite anyone?"
"No," Steve said, frowning and not bothering to conceal his disappointment at the fact.
"That's a shame."
Steve nodded, watching Wednesday for a few minutes before asking, "What are you making?"
"A cake for Joel."
"Why?"
"He insists on celebrating our anniversary."
"What kind is it?"
"Cinnamon with walnuts."
Steve thought for a moment, trying to figure out why that specific combination sounded familiar. Finally, he said, "I thought Joel was allergic to those."
"He is allergic to many things," Wednesday said, looking over her shoulder to smirk at Steve. "But especially cinnamon and walnuts."
"How come you're making it then?"
"To make sure he remembers how breathless I made him when we first met."
Steve thought that might be one of the most romantic things he's ever heard. He carefully filed the idea away in the back of his mind, hoping he'd one day find someone with an allergy severe enough to use it.
-------------------------
Eddie can't stop looking at Steve's parents, his gaze moving between the two as he tries to figure out how the fuck they ended up together. He feels like someone is about to jump out and tell him he's on a prank show. What else could describe the sheer polar opposite natures of Steve's parents?
Debbie looks exactly like the kind of woman who'd live in a Barbie Dream House: blonde, perfect makeup, pastel dress, the refined air that just hovers around her. Fester, however, looks like he belongs next door. Eddie had noticed how pale he was the first time they met, but he's positively corpse-like now that Steve and Debbie are around for comparison.
He'd almost believe Steve wasn't their child if not for the fact that Eddie can see every way he is. Steve might look like Debbie on the outside, but he's undoubtedly an Addams on the inside. He has Debbie's fashion sense and air of elegance. his eyes get the same crazed light sometimes that Fester's do when Debbie speaks, and the words they speak are similar.
"Eddie," Debbie says, snapping him out of his thoughts. At some point, he'd started staring at Steve, and he feels his cheeks flush at getting caught. "Steve tells me you play guitar. Did you recently learn?"
Oh. Eddie feels his shoulders relax some at the familiar topic. "My mom taught me when I was younger. She used to play for me whenever I had nightmares."
"She doesn't play for you anymore?" Debbie asks, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork.
"Oh, uh, she died a few years ago," Eddie says, smiling apologetically for such a downer of a topic. "Cancer, you know."
"That must have been excruciating," Steve says, a soft sigh accompanying his words, and Eddie isn't sure if he's sympathetic or jealous.
Debbie nods as she inspects her chicken closely before putting it in her mouth, her eyes narrowing slightly as she chews. "I said no poisoning the food, dear," she says, looking at Fester with a somewhat strained smile.
"Aww, it's just a nightshade reduction, Mother. We didn't even put any on Eddie's plate," Steve says.
Now that Eddie is actually paying attention, he realizes the dark sauce drizzled across their chicken is missing from his own. "Why don't I have any?" he asks, figuring it can't really be a nightshade sauce.
"You haven't worked your way up to nightshade yet," Fester explains, his eyes lighting up as he adds, "But don't worry! We're getting you started with just a dash of chalk in your rice."
Eddie blinks, glancing down at the half-eaten rice on his plate. He didn't notice anything weird about it, so maybe they're joking. But then he hears Debbie's put-upon sigh. "Fester, dear?"
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"I'd make you sleep in the doghouse, but you'd just enjoy it."
"Eddie doesn't mind, I'm sure," Steve says, looking at Eddie with a smile that makes his heart speed up and his palms sweat. "It's okay if you do, though. Just be honest."
"I don't mind," Eddie replies, wondering where the words come from. If he'd been anywhere else, with anyone else, he'd definitely be losing his mind over a light poisoning. Somehow, though, he can't bring himself to be that upset about it. Maybe, if he tries hard enough, he'll even build enough of an immunity to kiss Steve when he's wearing that raspberry lip gloss.
The blinding smile he gets in return eases any lingering doubts he might have. Steve leans close enough for their shoulders to brush, Eddie's skin tingling through the fabric of his sleeve. "We Addams are experts at acclimating people to poisons. You'll be enjoying nightshade in no time," he says, his voice light and reassuring like Eddie was somehow impatient.
And then, without thinking, Eddie's eyes glance down at Steve's lips. They have a suspicious sheen to them, and Eddie's only half-certain he's not imagining the artificial raspberry scent. "What, uh, what about raspberries?" he asks, the words tumbling out before he can stop them.
If anything, Steve's smile just gets wider. "I'm sure we can figure something out," he replies, his tongue briefly swiping across his bottom lip.
Eddie looks away and grabs his glass, gulping down half the water inside before he says anything monumentally stupid in front of Steve's parents.
"Steve, stop torturing Eddie. You know that's dessert conversation," Debbie says, her voice light and breezy.
Steve sighs and pulls away. "Sorry," he says, not looking the least bit apologetic at all. In fact, he even glances at Eddie again and smiles, eyebrows raised slightly, and Eddie thinks he's about to die of thirst.
"Eddie," Fester says, mercifully giving him a reason to look away from Steve and try to gain some semblance of chill. "What are your interests?" Fester glances at Debbie, practically preening when she smiles and offers him a subtle, approving nod.
"Well, uh, music. I like heavy metal and play in a band. Dungeons and Dragons, too. I play that with my friends."
"Dungeons, you say?" Fester asks, suddenly looking more invested in the conversation. "What's your favorite kind? I'm partial to the French Revolution era dungeons myself."
"You just like the guillotines, Father," Steve says.
"Now that's an instrument of death. Nothing inspires fear like the glint of the blade in the sun, don't you think, Pumpkin?"
"Yes, dear, but you know I'm partial to electric chairs myself."
Steve leans closer again and says, "Mother nearly killed Father's family with electric chairs, you know."
"A splendid attempt it was," Fester adds, looking over with a bright smile.
Eddie glances between all of them, taking in their expressions and trying to figure out if they're being serious. He watches Debbie drag a carrot through dark sauce on her plate; he briefly looks into Fester's eyes and sees the manic joy lying in them; his heart speeds up at Steve's soft and contented smile. Eddie then glances around the dining room. He notes the shotgun placed on the wall with a little plaque beneath that reads "Attempt 12" in flourishing cursive. He looks at the window and sees the black, molded wood of the house next door. He thinks of Nox the spider and Kas the taxidermy rat and the ornate dagger and everything else he's found in his locker.
And he realizes something.
They're serious. They're all completely serious about everything. Steve and Fester weren't joking that first time he came over and they talked about the oven being big enough to fit him and a roast. Steve really has fought all of his siblings and was gifted a trident at his bar mitzvah. Pubert doesn't protect his kidneys.
Okay that last one maybe isn't as important, but it's one Eddie savors nonetheless.
He has two options here. One, he gets the hell out of dodge, makes some strained excuse to leave after dinner and avoids Steve in the hallways and hopes he doesn't wake up buried alive. Two, he embraces it, starts eating a little chalk with every meal, and lets Steve introduce him to whatever freaky shit will earn him another blinding smile.
"So, how did you two meet?" Eddie asks, looking at Fester and Debbie with a smile as he shovels more rice onto his fork.
-------------------------
"I approve."
Steve blinks, and then his mother's words process, and he stands a little straighter. "That's good. Though, I would've been happy to follow in Romeo and Juliet's footsteps if you hadn't."
"You wouldn't even need poison," Fester says, his voice ringing from the kitchen as Steve helps his mother gather up dessert plates. "Just wear the raspberry stuff."
"No star-crossed suicides for you, mister," Debbie says, playfully tapping her finger against Steve's forehead. "Anyway, he's a very nice young man, and he adapted rather quick, don't you think?"
"He thought it was a joke before, but he doesn't think that now. And he didn't run away screaming!"
"Not that you would've minded, I suspect."
"Well, no," Steve agrees, flashing a grin as he puts the plates on the counter next to his father. He then pulls down Tupperware, ready to pack up the leftover chicken and rice.
"He seems like a tough nut to crack, but he's nearly there," Debbie says, leaning against the island with a thoughtful look. "I mean, he seemed ready to do whatever you said at the dinner table."
"Then why hasn't he done anything? Am I being too obvious? Should I play hot and cold?"
"No, I don't think that would work here."
"Just tell him," Fester suddenly says, looking at Steve as he washes a plate. "Wouldn't that be best?"
"Would it?" Steve asks.
Before Debbie can do more than snort derisively, Fester nods. "Just think about it, son. You tell him, but leave it all up to Eddie after that. He'll torture himself trying to build up the courage to even hold your hand, especially if you catch him when he's midway."
Steve can't help the way he lights up at the thought. "That's a great idea! Thanks, Father. I'm gonna go plan my confession right now," he says, disappearing from the kitchen not a moment later.
"When did you get so good at this?" Debbie asks, a little pride tinging her words. When Fester lights up, she decides to reward him that night with an extra ten minutes of cuddling before bed.
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And now, some memes:
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Note
if you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog!
Three random facts, huh? Well...
I have this weird interest in lights - not simple lights, of course, but more interesting lights such as projection bulbs and Christmas lights. My room felt so drab before Christmas but when I hung up some coloured lights out my window, my mood shot up, and the more lights I got, the better my mood. And I can't tell you how ecstatic I was when I got some icicle lights that I'd had my eye on for two months for 40% off!
I like spicy food, even if it doesn't like me; East Side Mario's has a delicious Arrabbiata sauce for their spaghetti, but I can only eat a little bit of it before my stomach starts rebelling. Even my elder sister, who loves spicy food, remarked that the sauce was really spicy.
I have a strange love for old tins - I don't mean garbage, more along the lines of advertising, and I especially love those that advertised food/beverages. I have a beautiful Caramilk tin, two lovely Hershey tins, a cute, small version of a milk can, my sister gave me three (M&M's, Kit-Kat, and Reese's) when she cleaned her room, and I'm getting a Crispy Crunch tin for my birthday. I have to stay off Etsy or I'd spend all my money on the lovely tins that people have to sell.
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scarasimplysimping · 3 years
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Festering Desire
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Characters: Xingqiu, Bennett,
Warnings: Idk they go batshit. Angst. murder, injuries, blood. Major Character Death. Uhhh... Dumb reader.
(Might be very confusing if you weren't around during the albedo event)
Albedo told you; warned you even. The sword would be too evil and would corrupt any normal mortal who were to wield it.
Yet you didn't listen.
Xingqiu
When he first laid eyes on the sword, he could already tell it wasn't your typical weapon you get from anywhere. He felt honored that you wanted him to use it.
"The design of this thing, almost as if it were alive! How curious. Such a well-made sword, designed for the most chivalrous of knights." The blue haired boy studies the sword passionately, throwing a few practice swings with it as you happily watched him from the side lines.
"And you've entrusted such a sword to me! I shall be sure to use it with utmost care." He coos proudly.
"Thank you, my liege."
The first time you noticed changes in him was when Chongyun pointed out that his friend's pranks had gotten crueler. Xingqiu shot him down, saying he couldn't take a joke. The hydro user seemed completely unapologetic.
You felt yourself being more uneasy everytime he smiles. There was nothing necessarily wrong with them but sometimes you swear you could see a hint of purple light in his eyes. You dismissed this of course, thinking he was just getting more enthusiastic in battle.
Unbeknownst to you, even he had caught up on his own changes. And he knew it was because of the sword.
Xingqiu started to hate the way the hilt of the sword looked like an eye, seemingly staring at his every move and egging him on to create one more mistake.
"Stop. Stop looking at me like that." He nearly begs the sword, sitting in front of him.
He chuckles dryly to himself, thinking he'd gone insane.
Perhaps if Xingqiu had told you how the sword made him feel, the situation wouldn't have spiralled out of control, resulting in him standing before you with dead bodies of treasure hoarders... Even those of innocent bystanders around you both.
You stare up at him in horror as if it all wasn't your fault. If you had given him the sword, If you had listened to what Albedo said-
Your thoughts were cut short when you hear him laughing menacingly , the laugh quickly turning into sobs.
"The chivalrous thing to do would be to own up to your actions and destroy the monster that you created, " He nearly chokes out, his eyes meet yours. The eyes that were once a lively shade of the ocean, now were a hollow of purple. "Please, for I cannot go on like this."
You comply of course, not wanting to make anything worse.
As you raise your weapon, you hear his last words.
"Thank you, my liege."
Bennett
He was ecstatic when you handed him the sword. You could almost see his eyes turn into literal stars.
"Are you for real?? You're really gonna trust me with such a cool-looking sword?" Bennett questions as if he can't believe it.
You nod in approval, happy to see that he's also happy.
Never had he felt such validation for someone to give him such a valuable weapon.
"It's definitely my lucky day! I promise you won't regret this!" Bennett says, practicality buzzing with excitement as he raises the sword, to observe it against the sun's light.
You noticed him growing a bit more impatient and a little more reckless each time you find empty chests.
While he never took his anger out on you, you could tell he was obviously more agitated than his normal self.
The blonde boy started returning with a bit more injuries than usual, shoving you off as you offered to bandage them for him.
"Not now. I still need to go back. I could feel it. I'm close to stumbling upon the greatest kind of treasure you'll ever lay your eyes on." Bennet tried to sound confident but you could hear his voice faltering as if he didn't believe his own words.
And despite him smiling, tears were already threatening to fall. A useless attempt to put you at ease, really.
It was all for you. He wanted to make you proud. Bennett wanted you to think you'd made the right choice in giving him the sword.
All of his failures and mood swings, the desperation and the disappointment, he blamed on his luck.
The thought of his problems rooting from the sword made him sick to the stomach, feeling guilty and disgusted with himself that he'd ever accuse you of giving him a cursed sword.
You trusted him and he trusted you. You'd never do such a thing.
And one day, he got a little bit too desperate, and reckless or maybe he was just fine and getting in to such a predicament was all thanks to his luck,
Either way, he lay bleeding out in your arms, as you cried.
Your voice had grown hoarse in calling for help. Bennett even felt bad for it.
Even as he were in his last moments. He blamed himself for being too weak.
His hand caressed your cheek in an attempt to soothe your sobs.
Bennett hears you trying to apologize incoherently through your tears and with his last breath he attempts to comfort you.
"No worries.. it's not your fault."
(A/N: This has been on my mind since I got the sword. Was feeling cute. Wrote some angst. Might make one for Kazuha and Kaeya later. Bouken da bouken 👍)
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pixie88 · 3 years
Text
Oxford to the Cotswolds
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Chapter 23 - Always the Bridesmaid.  
A/N: So here it is the LAST chapter of Always the Bridesmaid. I kinda feel  sad but I know it’s not the end of H&L.Thanks so much @aussieez​ for proof reading. Thank you again to all those following this story and continue to follow it, you have no idea how much it means to me that you take the time to read.😘  
I’m finalizing my tag list for this over the next few days, so again if you like to be tagged just let me know!
Read previous chapters HERE!
Warnings: Fluff & NSFW
Word Count: 2914
Pairings: Laila x Harry
Enjoy! 😘 
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A week later.
After their little spat, Harry decided maybe now was the time to take up his parents offer of using their cottage. They had their trip planned out, they would leave London on the Sunday morning stop at Oxford for a day or two and get to his parents' cottage on the Tuesday afternoon. "We are staying in an old prison that has been converted into a hotel?" Laila asks as they drove along the M40 "Yeah, I thought it was unusual and right up your street?" he takes his eyes off the road for a second to wink at her "You know the whole cops and robbers thing"
She rolls her eyes and laughs, "I'm guessing you're the criminal?" he smirks. "Nah, I'm a law abiding citizen, my love. You seem like the troublemaker here!" she laughs, "I've been looking up all the sites we need to visit while we are there"
He knew she wouldn't be able to visit a place without doing her research.
"Where do you need to visit then?" she smiles at the fact he asked "So, there is the obvious Bridge of Sighs, which is kind of a copy of the Rialto Bridge in Venice, Carfax tower the views of Oxford, from there are supposed to be amazing, Martyr's Cross which is a cross they have in the road where two Anglican bishops and the Archbishop of Canterbury were burned, oh and there is a Harry Potter tour around the University as some scenes were filmed there and Oxford Castle which is right next door to our prison hotel!"
"Sounds like a couple of days of learning!" he laughs at her "NOT just learning! There is a bar with magical cocktails, ones in test tubes, with fire and even smoke!" she's excited.
Harry doesn't know it, but Laila is a bit of a history buff, if she goes somewhere new she will research the hell out of it. Not long after they moved to London Laila was still adjusting to life in the city, Ezra could see his granddaughter struggling, so he planned a day out with her.
They stood on platform 5 at Harrow and Wealdstone Station "Grandad, where are we going?" she asked him "You will see when we get there!" he smiles at her. The train ride wasn't long. Fifty minutes later they pulled into Bletchley Station "Grandad, why are we here?" he chuckled "And I thought you knew everything about World War 2!" he winks at her, but it doesn't click until 10 minutes later when they were standing outside Bletchley Park.
Laila's eyes are wide "Oh my god!! This....this is where Alan Turing cracked the enigma machine!!" she squealed with excitement before hugging him. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she's beaming, she takes his hand and drags him through the doors.
This was one thing he and his granddaughter had in common, was their interest in World War 2. They spent hours looking around the huts where it all happened. He never saw her face light up so much as she looked around at the artefacts. They had a look around Station X (National Radio Centre) and when they finally reached the Mansion Laila was overjoyed "Grandad, just think all those people that helped crack the code have been in this very room...no house!!"
They spend hours looking around, before grabbing something to eat at hut 4 "Grandad, just think this is where they would get lunch or even dinner!" she looks around the hut "Laila, just think while they were here no one knew! They had to lie about working here, they couldn't tell anyone even family members. They had to take a vow of silence" he said.
This rang true, as years later Max was building an annex for a couple at the end of their garden and when he got talking to the Nan, whom the annex was being built for she told him how her mum worked at Bletchley Park and had to take a vow of silence which she kept until the park reopened as a museum in 1994.
When it was time to go home Laila couldn't thank him enough for taking her there "Just don't tell your brothers!" she laughs, "I've taken the Bletchley Park vow of silence!"
They finally arrived, Harry pulls into a parking space outside the hotel and a valet comes over Harry hands him the keys and they head in with their cases. They check in; "you will be on the fifth floor in room 135, so take the lift to the right once you go through those doors. Here is your room key and enjoy your stay!" she smiles. "I'm sure we will!" Harry grins at her before they make their way to their room.
"Did you ever watch the TV show Bad Girls?" Laila asks him as the lift takes them to the fifth floor. "I did! Izzy made me watch it with her. That woman that played Yvonne plays Shirley from Eastenders now, doesn't she?" she laughs, "I thought you don't watch it?" she nudges him as the doors open "I don't but when you put it on what am I supposed to do?" he winks.
"129...130...4 more rooms to go," she calls behind her. "Actually 5 more my love," he laughs, she turns to look at him "No! You don't include our room!" she protests. "I think you do," he laughs at her. "NO! No, you don't," he doesn't argue with her.
They dump their bags and head out to look around the city "Oh, they have a Harry Potter tour" Laila's tone is ecstatic, Harry sighs "Don't you want to do it?" she asks "If you want to we will do it" her eyes scan his face "Did the kids in school use to take the piss out of you in school because you had the same name?" she asks, he laughs, "No, if anything they used to call me...oh what was his fat mate called?"
"Crabbe?" she looks at him. "Yeah, that's the one," he offers a weak smile, she runs her fingers through his hair before her arms cling around his neck "Well, who's laughing now? I bet a lot of the girls and boys that bullied you regret it now! You are handsome, fit, funny and you are mine" she winks, he can't help smiling at her "And I have a drop dead gorgeous girlfriend" he says making her blush.
"We'll do something else," she smiles at him and kisses his lips "No, we'll do the tour if you want to!" she looks how long the tour is "2 hours, argh, I'd rather be doing some kinda cardio" he looks at her confused and she laughs, "use your imagination, you are a personal trainer" she winks. He quickly gets the hint "Right, what do we need to look at before I drag you back to the hotel?" he grins at her.
Later.
After dinner, they had back up to their room, "I'm going for a shower" Laila winks at him "OK, I'll grab one after you," she smirks "I was thinking more along the lines of you joining me," she doesn't have to ask him twice, he picks her up and she wraps her legs around his waist as he walks them to the bathroom.
After their shower, Laila notices the chocolate on the bed as she's drying herself. "Oh wow! They're shaped like handcuffs!" she giggles "Hmmm.....that reminds me," he wanders over to his case in just his towel and pulls out a pair of metal handcuffs. "And what do you intend to do with those Mr. Taylor?" she bites her lip "Oh, maybe make an arrest," he winks at her, she notices his arousal through the towel "Oh, on what grounds?" she asks.
"Hmmm....for being stubborn and sarcastic, but also gorgeous, funny, adorable and extremely impossible not to fall in love with" he stands in front of her, pulling off her towel until it drops to the floor. He cups her face, his thumb runs over her lips before capturing them with his, he lifts her arms above her head and his hands run up her arms before he suddenly cuffs her hands.
She smirks against his lips "Oh, PC Taylor, what do I have to do to get you to uncuff me?" his kiss becomes more intense. She drops her hands, so they are wrapped around his neck, he moves them until the backs of her knees hit the bed. They fall onto it with Harry landing on top of her "Well, Miss. Carelli, I think you can convince me somehow" his fingers finds her core.
She hisses at the contact, his other hand comes up and pins her arms above her head as he found her slick petals. "I thought I was the one who had to.....oh shit...convince you to free me," she can barely get her words out, his lips find her pulse line "How exactly are you planning on doing that?" he smirks against her neck.
"Stand up and I'll show you," he does as she says, she sits up and pulls off his towel. Grasping him, she works her hand along him a few times before her mouth follows the same path, he groans as his hips thrust forward in need. Her pillowy lips work along his hardened member, he grunts as her jaw slacks, taking him in further "Fuck...." he mutters.
He rocks his hips back and forth as her tongue runs along the ridges of his cock, he grips a fistful of her hair. His head fell back as he groans, "That's...it gorgeous! Fuck...".  She hums against him and her pace moves faster. His knees bucks, her apex is throbbing as she feels him nearing the edge "Laila....I'm...gonna....fuck!" he jerks as he hits his climax and he groans.
She releases him from her mouth and looks up at him. "Are you going to uncuff me now?" she asks as she's sat on her feet, he looks down at her with a grin. He lifts her up and throws her onto the bed, making her giggle "Hey, you said would take these off!" he has a mischievous grin on his face. "Well, Miss. Carelli! I prefer to have you like this, sorry." he captures her lips.
"That's not fair......." she protests, but she soon cuts off as he moves down her body to her centre, his hands grasp the back of both her thighs. His tongue moves apart her folds "Oh Harry!" she moves her arms to run her fingers through his hair. He pulls away, lifts her arms above her head again and kisses her lips "Keep them there!" he tells her before moving back to her core.
Her breathing hitches, he sucks against her clit, making her cry out "Ohhh"
A little later.
His legs are entwined with hers beneath the sheets, she's cuddled up against him as her head rests on his chest "When we get back do you think we should look at properties?" she lifts up and places her hand against his chest stroking his chest hair, looking up to him. He smirks at her, "definitely!" he strokes her hair away from her face "What if we have a look online now?" she stares into his ocean blue eyes and bites her lip waiting for his response.
He reaches for his phone "Let's have a look," he loads up and scrolls through the properties. "What are we going for?" he asks "Somewhere with gates, private drive and pool," she laughs, he digs his fingers into her ribs and she tries to wiggle away "Ahhhh! Harry! Stop!!"  his phone is discarded, he cups her face and claims her lips.
His body covers hers and he takes her against.
The next day.
They are back in the car on the way to Harry's parents cottage in Wyck Rissington, Gloucestershire.
Along the way they find a supermarket and grab a few essentials before they continued their drive. They arrive at the cottage 10 minutes later "Aww wow! This is cute!" she smiles as they get out the car. "And it's ours for the next few days" he winks at her.
They head inside, "wow, look at those beams!" she points up at the ceiling. "Have you been here before?" she looks to Harry. "Nah, Mum and Dad haven't let any of us use it...well until now" he winks.
Once they bring in their bags inside, he takes her hand and they have a look around when Harry spots a hot tub outside "Oh, what do we have here?" he nods as he opens the door "I didn't bring a swimsuit!" he has a devilish grin. "Who said anything about swimsuits?" she bit her lip and shook her head at him.
Harry runs Laila a bubble bath with candles around the tub and told her to relax while he cooked dinner. The water was warm against her skin as she sinks into the bathtub, a minute or so later there is a knock on the bathroom door before Harry wanders in with a glass of wine "Here you go, my love," she smiles up at him as she takes the glass "Thank you! So, what's for dinner?"
He leans over kisses her nose and winks "You'll find out when it's on the table. Now enjoy." He leaves her to it.
34 minutes later.
Laila walks into the bedroom and Harry has laid out a dress grey dress on the bed for her to wear. She smiles and starts to get dressed, underneath she puts on some lacy lingerie she had brought for the trip. When she's dressed, she goes in search for Harry, as soon as she saw him, she blushes but can't help but laugh.
"Harry!! What are you doing?" he's stood in the kitchen in just an apron and his boxers, he looks up at her and grins. "You've heard of the Naked Chef right?" he winks. "But he isn't actually naked!" she laughs at him. "I'm not either! I was thinking about it but I thought that would be unsanitary. I see you're wearing the dress I picked out for you." She makes her way over to him.
"Yeah, but the view would be...very sexy," she squeezes his behind "What's for dinner?" she looks around him on the kitchen side "Ah, ah, ah go and sit down," he moves, so she can't see, she sighs, "Fine!" Laila pulls out her phone and sends a picture she took earlier.
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Laila looks over to Harry, biting her lip and he catches her checking him out. "You realise I'm not dinner right?" He says. She looks up catching his eye, "might not be dinner, but there is always dessert!" She winks twirling her hair. He chuckles turning back to cooking.
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She puts down her phone as he comes over with 2 plates, placing them on table. "Ooo spaghetti and meatballs!" he pours them more wine, Laila twirls her fork collecting the spaghetti "Did you ever see the film The Lady and the Tramp?" she looks over to him. "I have. Mila made me watch it once." He laughs. "Do think we can do a Lady and the Tramp kiss?" she hold up a a string of spaghetti and he chuckles "We can try. Let me put it in my mouth first" Laila cracks and can't help but laugh "OH MY GOD!!"
"Come on, let's give it ago!" He takes the end of the spaghetti and lifts the other side to Laila, she takes it in her mouth and begins to get closer to Harry until their lips are just above each other's. He brushes his lips lightly over hers before pulling away. "Come on, eat up" he smiles at her and she rolls her eyes at him.
After dinner, he takes their plates. "I'll wash them up," she offers. "You can or I can put them in the dishwasher," he jokes, "Actually, you load the dishwasher. I'm going to start up the hot tub!" she gets up from the table "Already done, my love!" he winks at her. "Oh OK!" she stands and lets her dress fall off her shoulders until it's a puddle on the floor.
He looks her up and down. "I didn't bring a swimsuit, but this will do?" say asks as she makes her way to the back door. His eyes never leave hers, she grins, knowing she had him hook, line and sinker. He quickly closes the dish washer and chases after her, she squeals running from him and towards the door.
@lem-20​ @aussieez​ @secretaryunpaid​ @irisofpurple​ @khoicesbyk​ @txemrn​ @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer​ @tea-me-kah​ @casualpostqueen​ @beautifuluknownvoid​ @wombatsxkookaburras​
Their moans fill the night sky, both are blissfully happy.
Series 2 - Chapter 1
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fangirl-everythang · 3 years
Text
Happy Father's Day Part 3
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Summary: 3/3 Well, its the last part.
Warning: Sad, Mentions Death.
Word Count: 2269
"Harry? " I answer the phone.
"It's not Harry but glad you know your numbers." that high pitch annoying ass voice squeals. Rubbing my stomach, the baby's in go position and any day now my oven will be done baking. And of course, this bitch is answering his phone.
"Well bye-bye just thought you should know where he was at. " In the background, I hear Harry's voice going on about something so it must be true. Hanging up I sigh letting the hot tears roll down my cheeks. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I blame myself really, I let him back into my life and this doesn't surprise me. I gotta pee.
Waddling over to the bathroom door a gasp leaves my mouth feeling the surge of liquids fall between my legs. Holy shit. My water broke! Fuck gotta go. Thankful my bag was already in the car. Harry had insisted once I hit the 36-week mark claiming Styles's are either early or fashionably late.
Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. My knuckles turning white as I grasp the wheel. Nope, I'm not pushing anything out of my vagina. Can't do it. I refuse.
The contraction going away after a few brief moments of completely unreasonable pain. Dialing the numbers, I know by second nature, thankfully she picks up on the fourth ring.
"I don't think you should drive y/n"
" Just call 911. I'm almost there! " Gemma ecstatically shouts. She's just like her brother, "Where's Harrold? "
I put the seatbelt on and wince. It's just 28 minutes I can do this. "He's with his whore."
I can hear an audible gasp, "he wouldn't he's so excited for Athena"
"Well I just called him and she answered. " I grunt keeping my eyes on the two lanes ahead of me. Fuck I hate merging lanes people don't know how to drive.
"I'll be at the hospital as soon as possible but my phones gonna-" the line went dead. She did say she was on like 10% oh well.
I can do this just focus y/n. "Hear that baby girl we're almost there, hang on okay Hunny. " I say as a reminder to myself that soon I'll be leaving with another human with me.
6 miles to go that's what I'm talking about, another sharp pain spreads throughout my abdomen while waiting for the light to turn green. "OH COME ON. FOR FUCKS SAKE!" they're getting closer by the minute. Shit. Arriving at a four-way intersection. I'm relieved to be at a red light, the contractions are longer and much more frequent. "Almost there Athena, this is the last light and a straight shot from there."
Abruptly my car is jerked forward with a sharp impact pushing to the oncoming lights. All I see are lights from both directions colliding with my 3,000-pound piece of metal. Sounds of shattering glass and sirens are the last thing I hear before it all fades to black.
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Harry's POV
"Has anyone seen Mr. Style's phone?" The helpful aid asked around the dressing room. I could've sworn I put it down for a moment. Y/n could go into labor any minute now and how I am supposed to know. Fuck. I'm stupid.
I was supposed to be here to perform and list nominees and then go back home to y/n. I can't wait to propose to her, she's all I could ever want and she's giving me the most wonderful gift I could ever ask for. Running a hand through my damp hair, the lights really build a sweat, I hear a familiar voice. "Looking for this lover? " she asks slipping my phone into my pocket.
"Good luck at home. " she smiles and winks. Before I could question it she walks away.
Looking down at the device my heart skips a beat, I have 146 missed calls. And I've been gone for 5 hours. Seeing Gemma's name on the screen again I swipe to answer.
"Hell-"
"Harry," she says sniffling.
"Gemma what's wrong? did I miss it? Oh my god I hope not"
"I think it would be best if you came now Harry." she breaks her voice cracking.
"Gem what?"
"Listen Harry, she needs you right now so please." she cries. Not needing another word, I tell Jackson the address and that I need to be there as fast as possible, 45 minutes later we're pulling into the Labor and Delivery section of the hospital.
"Congrats Harry!" Jackson says letting me out at the door. "Thank you!" I beam back at him.
Seeing Gemma, her eyes are puffy with tears still flowing. "Gem what's wro-," a sharp pain to my right cheek stings. Never has Gemma hit me like that, well not since I cut her prom dress. "How could you Harry? Cheat on her again WITH TAYLOR for Christ sakes!" She yells.
"I didn't cheat," I explain to my sister as calm as I can.
She looks at me with wild eyes pulling me into a hallway with fewer people, "Then what happened Harrold?" I clench my jaw instead of speaking, how dare she accuse me of cheating on my pregnant soon-to-be fiancé. Y/n Styles has a great catch don't you think?
"Is she here yet? Gem where are they?" I ask ready to see my new family.
She begins crying again "Harry there was an accident." Those five words make my breathing come to a halt. My heart shatters in a million pieces "Is Y/n okay? What happened?" She begins walking me to a door. "This one," she points. Looking through the glass I see y/n with bruises and cuts to her beautiful face, her stomach nearly deflated from when I last saw her this morning, a cast on a swollen leg of hers, and a sling holding a very damaged arm. Tears brim at my eyes looking at my love on that hospital bed. "She's awake." Gemma walks past me running to the outside.
I gently knock on the door, waiting for a response which I don't get. "Y/n?" I approach her almost as If I were going to help an injured puppy. "Hey love" I smile at her which she glares at me and then turns wincing in pain. "You wanted this didn't you Harry?" I look at her confused. "This is probably great for you, a way out. Well leave." She states using whatever energy she can find.
"Baby I didn't want- I want you and Athena" She breaks down in uncontrollable tears.
"You were with that her and couldn't even bother to pick up your phone!" she screams. "Y/n I wasn-" a knock at the door interrupts my sentence, "Come in" She says glaring at me as a nurse opens the door.
"Hey there Mama, we have a visitor." the nurse wheel in a tiny cart that has a bunch of equipment coming from it. She looks at me and asks Y/n, "Is this dad?" she nods and rolls her eyes. "About time you made it!" She smiles my way. Placing the beautiful baby in front of us. She's so small and fragile. "The doctor will be in shortly to talk to you." She states picking up the tiny child and putting her in Y/n's arm.
"Hi pumpkin," Y/n coos into her ear. "Guess who decided to show?" She smiles, a tear falling from the corner of her eye. She nods her head towards me as I go to hold her. She's so soft and precious. Her small eyes have a gorgeous mix of both mine and Y/n's. She has such a cute round face, I couldn't imagine her looking any different.
"Hi there angel, I'm so sorry I was late." I see a spot dampen on her blanket that surrounds her, knowing that I'm crying. Her small eyes shining like twinkling stars. So small I can feel her fragile body between my large hands.
Another knock before the door opens when several doctors walk in. "Mrs. Y/ln, unfortunately, we have some bad news,"
"Oh, hello there Mr. Styles." They state acknowledging my existence. One of the female doctors places a black and white image on the lighted board illuminating the small figure.
"Unfortunately, due to the accident, Athena has suffered from what we call a fetomaternal hemorrhage."
"What exactly are you saying?" Y/n ask looking at the child still in my arms.
The slightly shorter male doctor points to the image. "This is an abscess of blood in the brain. Unfortunately, the risk is too large to operate. I'd give her another day at most."
"You m-mean," Tears start pouring down her face" I was so scared she was hurt. I-I promise I saw the light it was red, and I-I stopped but," She began heaving losing more air with each word. I gently rub her back as I cradle Athena with one arm.
"She's still being monitored but I'm afraid she won't have much longer." The first doctor breaks the silence. "According to the police report the car that struck you from behind happened to be a drunk driver, Gage Joyce." I can feel the anger surging through me. "I remember the clashing of metal, glass breaking, the sirens but it all went b-black." She mumbles, seemingly remembering the awful experience. I grab her hand in hopes of comforting her but it doesn't seem to work.
"After striking your car at 72 mph it had ample force to push your vehicle into the opposite traffic. Your vehicle took the most impact and was hit by four other cars. On scene, EMT's said you were in and out of consciousness mumbling about a baby. Taken and brought to the L&D." he finishes.
"Fetomaternal hemorrhages are often caused by trauma and sometimes can be revered but in this case, we've done all we can do." They all frown looking at the small girl still in my arms.
"No, there's got to be more you can bloody do! We're in a hospital for Christ sakes!" I exclaim, passing my daughter to the love of my life. She gently caresses her soft skin. She's literally a perfect combination of us. I cannot lose my family.
"You can leave, thank you all for your help." y/n says quietly, they oblige by her wishes and leave us with our daughter.
"Harry," she wipes a tear from her face cautious of the IV placed on her hand, "If what they say is true, I just want to spend time with her." She sniffles. I nod understanding. She looks back at the small being in her arms, "Hi pretty girl, Mommy's so happy to meet you," she unfolds the blanket from her. I sit next to her on the small bed in the room that smells of sterilization. Placing my finger near hers' she wraps her small hand around my thumb, her grip so tight for someone so small. Y/n kisses her forehead, "Harry," she runs her finger along her small legs.
"Can you sing the song?" nodding and softly singing Isn't she Lovely by Stevie Wonder, in the small hospital bed as our new life falls asleep. All night I watch her little chest rise and fall allowing y/n to get some rest soon following my two loves.
By the early morning, nurses are rushing in because of the loud beeping from the monitor, waking y/n and I. It feels like everything is happening so fast but in slow motion right in front of me. Those three words are the ones I didn't want to hear. "No! no. I have to take her home. She's gotta go home..." Y/n screams, not being able to see her face due to the tears in my eyes falling and rebuilding themselves faster than the speed of light. "Call it." One of the nurses shouts.
"Time of Death 6:18 am March 7th, 2019"
As they cleared out the room, I see her small lifeless body curled into a blanket, almost as if she were sleeping, but no longer do breaths fall from her small heart-shaped lips.
//////////////////////////
Y/n hasn't said a word since we got in the car. It's been four days since we lost Athena. She slowly climbs into the car, still sore from the accident and birth. I go to the backseat holding back my emotions and putting the empty car-seat in the trunk of the car that should have been holding three of us.
Starting the silent journey back home she continues to look out of the window, a frown etched on her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks as she instinctively touches her somewhat deflated stomach. What kind of sick joke is this?
"Harry why were you with her?" she asks me looking down at what used to be her baby bump.
"I wasn't love, she took my phone while I was on stage." She just nods and remains silent until we pull up to the flat. She begins walking up the stairs as best she can. "Y/n wait, let me help."
"No Harry!" She yells. Pain evident in her voice, ignoring her I open the door and help her inside. "Harry I can't do this." I stare at her confused, "What can't you do y/n?"
"Us Harry. I can't look at you and not think of her." She sobs.
"Y/n we can-" I try to reason with her.
"No Harry, please just go." She whispers.
"I'm not losing both of you," I state holding back my own sobs. I feel like everything feels like it's getting smaller around me, suffocating in grief.
"You already have."
A/N: What can I say I have a thing for dark endings. Anyways I really appreciate the support loves. I hope you enjoy these! Right now I've been working on a Loki piece, I'm so excited for it. I changed the writing style tho, so it's not 1st person per usual. I think it's going pretty well so far.
xoxo Janelle
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anobscurename · 4 years
Text
ocean eyes – chris evans
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previous part: PART XV — masterlist
concept: the three times chris comforted you, and the times you returned the favour. the slowest of slow burns, the angstiest of all angst. part sixteen of many.
pairing: chris evans x reader
word count: 3,8k
warnings: drinking, so much fluff, heartbreaking angst
author's note: this one, guys, gals, and non-binary pals, is for @fangirlovestuff because it's her BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABYYYY (and i'm sorry in advance). the songs are linked, so if you don't know them, you can check 'em out :)
In your ten months of knowing him, Chris had always known how to cheer you up, irregardless of how big or small the issue was.
You would even go so far as to call him a master of distraction – because by the end of the day, you wouldn't even have known you'd cried at all.
You could recall three times he had been there for you, and the two times you returned the favour.
The first time he had seen you cry – about three months into your living situation – he had been by your side immediately, pulling you flush against his body. He held you in his big arms for the longest time, and just waited the sobs out.
He wasn't the type of person to press, and he knew you'd tell him what was wrong if you wanted.
Instead, he asked you what you wanted.
You were lightheaded and cry‐drunk, so it took a moment to come back to yourself. "Huh?"
"Do you want to be quiet or loud?"
"I just..." You struggled to find words that didn't make you sound needy, but you found none. "I don't want to be alone."
"That's out of the question," he smiled knowingly. "So, what will it be, {your last name}? Quiet or loud?"
He had a twinkle in his eye, one that suggested his question delved deeper than the words implied.
"Quiet."
And then he was pulling you up off the couch and out the door in total disregard of your chosen attire.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
"Chris, I'm literally in my pyjamas–"
But he was already opening the garage, the creaks of the gears overshadowing your weak protests.
"You're wearing pants this time," he winked at you. "So we have that going for us."
And then you were in the car, location still a mystery.
Any attempts to get a modicum information was shut down with a simple "it's a surprise."
"Why can't you tell me?"
"Because then it wouldn't be a surprise."
And you were glad he hadn't told you, because soon, you were pulling up outside a place you hadn't been to since you were a kid and going on school trips. You'd never been to any L.A. ones, having moved there only half a year ago. But the way your whole body immediately was overcome with such calm...
It was like you had been hoping to come here since you'd woken up that morning, and had received the news of your grandfather's admittance to the hospital earlier that night.
But there was no way for Chris to have known that your grandfather had taken you to the aquarium when you were young, telling you about all the fish, helping you make up increasingly bizarre backstories for them.
He just knew you had to leave the house, and go somewhere quiet.
And it was a weekday, so the chances of kids screaming and running through the aquarium hallways were slim to none.
So while you walked in the tinted blue light, eyes scanning over information plaques and watching the multi-coloured aquatic animals lazily drift past the glass panes in a comfortable silence, you reached out to give his wrist a gentle squeeze.
His hands had been sitting in his pockets, giving you your space, but hovering close enough to you to let you know you weren't alone.
"Thank you," you croaked out softly.
When you turned your head to look at him, he had been looking at you, a smile of heartwarming endearance on his face.
If you hadn't been so consumed by the exhibits, you'd have known that he hadn't taken his eyes off you the entire time, and you'd have known he also hadn't stopped smiling. Smiling at you, seeing just how happy you were, even though your eyes were still watery and worry was still thick in your throat.
He slid his hand out of his pocket easily to lace your fingers together, loose enough for you to pull away if you had wanted, but tight enough for you to know that he had no intention of letting go first.
But you didn't pull away, instead strengthening the intwining grasp.
And so you continued, walking through the aquarium in that comfortable silence. And at some point along the way, you found laughter again, pointing out the ugliest fish and saying it was him, only to have him gasp in mock surprise.
"My God, you're such a flirt," he'd say.
And then he'd point out the most beautiful fish he could find.
"That's you."
——————
The second time was a week later.
It was your grandfather again, but the issue had been more serious than any one of your family members initially believed.
You didn't cry this time, but Chris could sense the immeasurable sadness in your posture, the way you sat on the couch, staring blankly ahead.
He came to stand in front of you, and gently knelt down so your eyes would focus on his. Everything about his stature screamed concern as he caressed the hair away from your face.
"Quiet or loud?" He had asked so softly, so simply.
"Loud."
He helped you up, careful with your fragile state. He walked you to your room, into the bathroom, and left you to take a calming shower by yourself.
When you'd gotten out, gotten ready for whatever surprise excursion was next – dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, scuffed sneakers on your feet but Chris would claim you looked prettier than he'd ever seen you – Chris was waiting for you by the front door.
You knew better than to ask him where he was taking you this time. And honestly, you were too drained to even muster the words.
You wanted loud, to drown out the misery.
And you got what you wanted.
Chris had taken you to a local pop-up carnival, and in spite of the cloudy weather mirroring your emotion, threatening rain, it was filled with screaming kids and the sounds of joy.
"They come by once every six months," he explained while you waited in the line to enter. "I wanted to take you under different circumstances, but..."
"It's wonderful," you assured him, although your tone didn't sound like it.
He paid your entrance fees – buying a large roll of game tickets for the both of you – and with his hand ghosting over the small of your back, he guided you inside.
Your smile first came when you were on the ferris wheel, and it didn't fade until you were back home, saying good night.
You had spent the whole afternoon there, and even most of the evening, until around ten, when they had begun to take down the stalls and unpitch their tents.
"I'm totally going to crush you at this," you had grinned at him at some game or another. And you did, but only because he wasn't entirely focused on the game, but watching you.
He would tell himself later, as he lay in bed, the reason he couldn't take his eyes off you was because he had wanted to make sure you were alright, and having a good time. But that was a half truth. The full truth was simply because he couldn't stop looking at that smile he loved so much, on the girl he loved more.
A sense of pride would swell in his chest at the very thought of him having played a part in your happiness.
And so you did absolutely crush him. But only because he'd been distracted, and, if truth be told, because he let you.
You held your prize – a hilariously massive teddy bear, drowning you in its fluff – with both arms, laughingly taunting him for his loss, which had got him a much smaller bear (a participation trophy at best) which he carried in one hand.
You had also gone to the circus they had there, your teddy bear seated beside the two of you, taking up a whole seat by itself. You marvelled at the trapeze artists, the charisma of the ringleader, the fire juggler from Prussia, and even found it in yourself to giggle a little at the clowns who you thought you'd be irreparably prejudiced against since you watched Stephen King's It.
And if you were to now scroll back in your camera roll, you would find the hundreds of pictures you had taken together in the hall of mirrors, and the beautiful twinkling lights of the distant city that sparkled like their own constellation from your view at the top of the wheel.
But you wouldn't scroll back now.
Not now.
———————
The third time had just been a bad day.
Nothing set it off, but you'd woken feeling like trash, and it really didn't sit well with you.
It had been post kiss, post Vegas, in that week Chris had returned, and he could feel it the second you stepped into the kitchen.
His usual morning greeting of "good morning, Sleeping Beauty" fell short on his lips.
"Both," you said to him, already knowing the question he was going to ask.
You had managed to get yourself dressed that day, thinking that that one step into productivity would pull you out of your slump. It hadn't. So you told him "both," and he immediately complied.
Setting the mug down, coffee unfinished, he grabbed his keys off the counter. He called for Dodger, and you were in the car again.
This time, you already knew where you were going. It wasn't a difficult puzzle to solve, especially with Dodger there with you.
And your suspicions were confirmed when he pulled up to a remote beach, a hidden gem that only locals would know about.
And in the secluded bay, you walked alongside each other, Dodger prancing ecstatically into the water and darting across the sand.
You watched him greet other dogs, tail wagging. You encountered very few people, giving them a greeting smile in passing.
It really was the perfect mixture of both – serene in the best way possible, ocean waves loud in their crash on the shore.
Chris made no effort to hide his gaze on you this time, aside from a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, obscuring his eyes.
"Why are you wearing those?" You chuckled.
"What?"
"You're wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. Did it not come with instructions or something?"
"Oh, that," he grinned. "I wear the cap for the aesthetic, sunglasses for the disguise."
You had to reach up on your tippytoes to do what you did next – which, if you were so inclined, could be referred to as theft in the court of law.
You easily snatched the cap off his head, and, dancing out of his reach, put it on. It was a size too big, and dipped into your eyes, making him laugh through the stern demeanor he was jokingly putting on.
"Give that back," he warned. "You're ruining the aesthetic."
You repeated him mockingly, and then he was chasing you down the beach, your squeals of delight interrupting the peace and grabbing Dodger's attention.
You weren't being chased down by one Evans anymore, but two, and hoping to find sanctuary, you made your way into the water.
The sea lapped eagerly at your knees, stray droplets clawing to soak into the frayed denim of your shorts.
Chris had been wearing jeans – not exactly intending for a beach day that morning – and you'd hoped that would be enough to halt the attack.
"If you think that some water is gonna stop me from righting this injustice," he began, equally as out of breath as you were. He had been holding himself back from outright catching up to you, and you knew that – Chris was the epitome of fitness. What did you expect? To outrun Captain America? – "nay, this crime, then you are dead wrong."
"I'm in international waters!" You called back, flicking the peak of his cap teasingly. "I'm out of your jurisdiction!"
"Fuck jurisdiction!" He yelled out, and then he was wading towards you.
Water slowed both of you as you tried to keep out of his grasp, but he had the benefit of being naturally quicker. He had you in a bearhug, trapping your body against his as you struggled to break free.
"Give it back," he playfully growled into your ear.
"Never! You'll never take me alive!" You fought the words out through your laughter.
And then Dodger was there too, all but pushing you over into the shallows of the shore.
You both lay there, allowing yourselves to be drenched, through and through, Dodger licking your faces excitedly.
And as the laughter slowly subsided and the cold the breeze introduced to your wet forms finally registered, you both got up.
"Alright, have your stupid hat back," you sighed, moving to take it off.
He captured your hand in a lightning quick grip, stilling your movements. "Keep it," he smiled. "Looks better on you anyways."
You smiled back sarcastically, rolling your eyes, before pushing him back down onto the sand playfully. "All this?! All this for me to keep it?!"
He propped himself up on his elbows to peer up at you, sunglasses knocked askew.
"Dodger, as my head torturer," you said to the exhilarated mountain of a dog. "I command you to execute this man."
———————
It was hard to watch a strong man crumble, and there were days when that happened, too.
It was the day of Dodger's operation – a hip surgery, nothing too life threatening – but Chris, with all his quick wit and charming smiles, was a shell of himself.
Of course, you were worried too. But Chris needed you more than you needed him, and so, in the mournful silence of the waiting room, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
He flinched a little at the sudden contact, but didn't pull away.
"Quiet or loud?"
In all definitions of the word – in the hour he had been in that waiting room, leg bouncing – he never thought he could hate quiet as much as he did now.
"Loud."
It took some effort to tug him to his feet, his body sluggish with worry. But he was up, and you were guiding him to the door, leaving your number with the vet secretary for any updates.
You didn't want Chris to be worrying and checking his phone every five seconds, because you knew how that dread felt. No, he needed a distraction.
"Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise."
You had never understood why Chris enjoyed doing that to you, never telling you where he was going to take you, but with the thrill of him not knowing, you got it. Spontaneity ran in his veins, and he didn't press like you so often did in the past.
You had been in L.A. long enough to find your own little secret spots, and to know exactly where you were without much guidance.
And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn't really know where you were taking him until your legs had absentmindedly taken you to an old vintage diner you knew had once been the talk of the town – filled to the brim with hipsters – before once again slipping into obscurity.
It was late into the night, but the diner was open 24/7, and you knew Chris hadn't eaten in a while.
When the bell jangled upon your entry, the waiters jolted, having taken to sitting down in the vacancy of their restaurant.
A few customers lingered here and there, club goers drunkenly scarfing down fries to try and sober up a little before hitting the next party and insomniacs downing their third cup of coffee that hour.
But for the most part it was empty, and, unfortunately, quiet.
"You here for karaoke night?" A bubblegum popping waitress asked. It really felt like the cliché, but it weirdly added to the charm. She stood, perched on the rubber stop of her roller skates, waiting for your response.
"Oh, hell yes we are," you grinned.
She took you to a table situated in front of a makeshift stage, a jukebox-karaoke machine hybrid standing proudly to one side.
Chris sat down, anxiety still heavy in his bones. You quickly ordered – two burgers, and a milkshake to share – before you were shedding your jacket and making your way on stage.
You didn't care about making a fool of yourself. The only thing you cared about was seeing Chris smile again, and in that moment, you'd do almost anything to make that happen.
You hummed in thought as you perused the songs available to you. You didn't expect much from the collection, given that the whole vibe of the diner was 50's through to early 90's. A total pocket dimension in time.
A song caught your eye and you grinned, selecting it immediately. Chris didn't want quiet – and you were going to be the loudest bitch here.
You could hear the whir of the machine as it came to life and you made your way to the vintage microphone. It crackled and whined when you pulled it closer to yourself.
You had caught the eye of the sobering-but-still-quite-drunk party animals, and they had come over to investigate.
"Sorry," you winced, voice booming on the mic. "This song goes out to my good friend Chris."
And then the music started to play, and he groaned. He knew the song decently enough, it having been one of your most replayed disco bops of the week.
"This is Sunny, by Boney M," you said over the intro. "Hope you enjoy."
And then you started to sing, intentionally bad at first to wheedle that cry strained laugh from Chris, and then finishing off in that voice he knew you had.
Every time the song mentioned "Sunny," you'd look directly at him, giving him an exaggerated wink. And at "I love you," you'd point at him, smile growing on your face as you danced ridiculously with the mic.
He was laughing, whole body shaking at how over-the-top you were being.
And when the song wrapped, you whooped into the mic, feedback squealing. "Thank you, everybody!" you panted.
The club goers applauded, screaming their drunken praises.
"YES, QUEEN!"
"YOU GO, BABY!"
"FUCK YES!"
"BEYONCÉ WHO?!"
That last one earned some shocked gasps and scolding. "Woah, dude. Too far."
"Thank you, thank you," you grinned, feeling alive. You could see the laughter starting to fade from Chris again, and so you moved to put on another song.
"This one," you whispered into the mic, "is a duet. So, please. Good friend Chris, wouldst thou riseth to the occasion?"
He shook his head, cheeks flushing at being called out.
"Oh, come on," you whined, the music already beginning to play out the intro. "For me?"
He narrowed his eyes at you, already smilingly weighing the pros and cons of his embarrassment. You batted your lashes. "I know you can sing, Evans. Don't start this shy shit now."
"COME ON, CHRIS!"
"YEAH, COME ON CHRIS!"
"Give the people what they want," you wiggled your brows.
He shrugged, muttering "fuck it," and reluctantly rising from his seat, he hopped on stage with one jump.
"You were working as a waitress at a cocktail bar, when I met you," he started singing flatly, eyes on yours, letting you know how much he didn't want to be up there. You arched a brow, pushing him let loose.
Slowly, with the encouragement of your smile, and the cheers from the drunk, he lost himself in the performance of "Don't You Want Me" by The Human League, even taking to dancing at your part of the duet.
And that's how you spent the rest of your waiting period – singing bad karaoke, shovelling food into your mouths between songs, and returning the favour of cheering on the clubbers when they had resolved to stay and sing because they decided the best time they were probably going to have that night was in that stuffy little diner on a street they probably would've walked right past on a regular day.
And when your phone rang for Dodger, you paid your bill, leaving a hefty tip in apology to the staff for having to endure your wailing. You said your goodbyes to your newfound friends of the night.
And Dodger was fine when you took him home.
And Chris was smiling again.
———————
You couldn't bare to dwell on the second time you took it upon yourself to cheer up Chris Evans, because the fact of the matter was, that just reminiscing about those other four had you muffling sobs all over again.
You thought about that day – the road back from Vegas, pulling off to Route 66, taking him to the food truck park – and the alcohol you urgently gulped down did nothing to numb you.
You had often looked back on those memories fondly. But now it was a gaping hole in your chest.
You were sitting on the balcony, overlooking the beach. In the distance, under moonlight, you saw a couple walking hand-in-hand, and you knew it was them.
"Thought I'd find you out here," a familiar voice said. It wasn't Chris', and that had you swigging another shot from the near empty bottle in your lap. "You holding up okay?"
"Ask me again in a month," you stated blankly. You hadn't even moved to address the newcomer, nor had you shifted over to make room for him. He sat all the same. "If you want to put a number to how long it takes to move on, ask Chris. The answer is a month."
It had taken a month for him to move from you to Lily. But it wasn't exactly like any of you had made your feelings and intentions known, aside from a kiss that you had claimed you'd been drunk for, and a confirmation of friendship.
If you let yourself think about it too long – which you had, on more than one occasion, this one specifically – it was your fault.
Sebastian reached over and gently pried the bottle from your iron grip. He looked at how much was left, surprised. And still, you gazed numbly ahead.
"This is how day one looks, huh?" He attempted a joke. Even he knew it fell flat, and instead took a sip to ease himself.
"The alcohol content in that bottle is directly proportionate to how many fucks I have left to give," you shrugged, voice monotonous.
"How much more are you going to put yourself through before you've had enough?"
"I've had enough," you sighed. "But I'll probably suffer a little more."
"You have more strength than I do, then."
His sympathetic arm wrapped around you, and you melted into his side, the comfort another person brought acting as a placebo salve to the pain. Like an ice pack on a shattered femur.
And you realised why you were so sad. Those memories meant nothing to you now.
They had lost their meaning because he wasn't there with you, on this roof, asking you that question when you needed it asked the most. Quiet or loud.
He wasn't there, and the taste of whiskey was chased away by ash.
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