#Pointer Retriever cross

[blogmillymills]

It’s a dog’s life.

[earlysunshines]

downstairs neighbor

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: in which you party so often that you get another complaint, but this time it's from a very pretty girl that really has you considering shutting the whole function down.

warnings: alcohol and weed mentioned ; readers an asshole at first but danielle is danielle so reader goes through a whole crisis ; yeah they're adorable, basically black cat and golden retriever trope sorry not sorry ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: get it because usually it's the upstairs neighbor but i'm quirky so its not... ok nvm ill delete my account i gues ... anyways FIRST DANI FIC UNDER 10K! guys im so in love with her i need to be put into an asylum do u see these pics of her LOOK AT HERR!!! i need to die like rn

danielle has settled in quite alright into her new university. she's moved in with one of her close friends from high school, decorated her side of the room, and all of her professors are oddly sweet--much better than the professors from her old school.

she makes it to the first friday of the semester, deciding to settle in and watch a movie, maybe call her mom and dad later if she doesn't doze off. but when she hears muffled music and disturbing footsteps from downstairs, she pauses the show she's two minutes into and gets out of her bed.

hanni's on the other side of the room completely slumped, her headphones peeking out from the blanket sprawled on top of her with no care in the world as to what is happening downstairs. danielle purses her lips before getting out of bed and slipping the university sweatshirts over her tank top.

she looks back over at hanni, who’s still sleeping, before heading out into the living room area, past the kitchen, and out the door.

when she reaches the floor below, she follows the noise, it gets louder as she steps through the corridors, and then she stops in front of what she suspects is the source of all this disruption before knocking on the door—no response.

“hm.” she mumbles, knocking again in a little pattern—still no response.

before she can knock again, her fist in the air ready to hammer a little harder on the door, it opens.

a girl—probably her age—answers it, eyes narrowed at danielle. she’s slightly taller, but still, danielle feels a little small with how scrutinizing she checks her out. 

“did kazuha invite you? yujin? or was it jungwon?” the girl looks at her with raised brows, expecting an answer with a slightly bothered look. it seems like danielle had interrupted their little… event? whatever event it was, did they really need to have house music being blasted so loudly?

danielle rubs her thumb against her pointer finger, trying to steady her nerves. “oh, no, i um… wasn’t invited,” she says, her voice wavering slightly. the words sound even more pathetic out loud than they did in her head, but there’s no taking them back now. she pushes on, though it feels like her confidence is slipping away with every syllable. “i was just wondering if—well, if you could turn the music down? my roommate is sleeping and it’s just… really disturbing.”

the girl in front of her snickers, a look of disbelief crossing her face as she sizes danielle up. it’s clear she finds the request ridiculous, and danielle feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“you know what, this isn’t even my party—hey y/n! come out here!” the girl calls over her shoulder, her tone dismissive as she waves danielle off like she’s someone else’s problem now.

you hear your name being called, and with a sigh, you push yourself up from the couch. the group you were sitting with whines in protest as you leave, but you roll your eyes—they’re all drunk, their complaints nothing more than the amplified nonsense of intoxicated minds.

“what is it, yunjin?” you call out, rubbing your eyes as you approach the entrance, the taste of the cheap beer sakura handed you earlier lingering unpleasantly on your tongue. “what—”

the words die in your throat as you spot the girl standing just inside the doorway. she’s probably, no, definitely new here—new to the party, new to the scene. you’ve never seen someone that makes you stop in your tracks like this. her long eyelashes flutter as she looks up at you, her big brown eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and something else you can’t quite place. she’s dressed in baggy sweats and an oversized university sweater, the logo stretched across her chest in signature block letters. there’s an air of innocence about her, something that feels out of place amidst the environment both of you are in right now.

you take her in, noting how pretty she is—adorable, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. she looks like a lost puppy, especially with those pleading eyes and the subtle bite of her lip—

you push the thought aside, telling yourself it doesn’t matter. you’re just here to deal with whatever minor inconvenience yunjin has decided to dump on you.

“who are you?”

“um, my name is danielle, i live right above.” she has an accent, something strong and similar to that girl yunjin’s been bickering with – was it lily? no, bangchan? hell no, she hates him and his little group. ah, hanni that short girl that came complaining during your second party of freshman year, yunjin still brings her up. 

“right, what do you want?” you ask, sensing yunjin’s departure when you feel her brush against your shoulder. “is there a problem or?”

“well, yeah, kind of…” she’s actually adorable, especially when she avoids your eye contact like that. “it’s kind of loud, you know. i was wondering if you could turn down the volume a bit? there’s a lot of thumping i can hear from above, i can’t imagine how it must be for the downstairs neighbors…”

“you must be new.”

“sorry?”

“you’ll get used to it.” you say simply, poking the inside of your cheek before starting to close the door. “i recommend a pair of some good noise cancelling headphones—and a signature study spot. see you around danielle.”

you feel a strange pang of guilt, something unfamiliar and uncomfortable twisting in your chest. you’ve done this before—brushed off people’s complaints, shut the door on them without a second thought. but there’s something about her that makes you hesitate, something that tugs at you. maybe it’s the way she looked at you, those big brown eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, like she was really counting on you to help. you give her one more glance, catching that puppy-dog expression that makes your resolve waver for just a second. but then, before you can think twice, you close the door on her, shutting out the sight of her pleading face.

–

danielle spends the whole night tossing and turning, the faint vibration of the music seeping through the ground and into her restless mind. it’s not loud enough to keep her fully awake, but just persistent enough to keep her from finding any real rest. she considers going back downstairs, maybe trying to have a proper conversation, coming to some kind of compromise. but every time she thinks about it, the memory of how things ended—the snickers, the dismissive attitude—fills her with embarrassment, making her shrink back into her bed.

the next morning, she’s awake before the sun, the lingering fatigue making her body feel heavy and sluggish. still, she forces herself out of bed, the need to talk to someone—anyone—pushing her into action. with a deep breath, she reaches over and starts shaking hanni awake, the clock not even close to ten a.m. on a weekend. hanni groans in protest, burrowing deeper into the blankets, but danielle is relentless, her fingers poking at hanni’s sides until her sleepy roommate finally stirs, blinking up at her with bleary eyes.

“what the hell man? the sun is still rising!”

“what do you know about the downstairs neighbor?”

“w-what?” hanni mumbles, rubbing her eyes as she turns to lay on her back and squint at her roommate. “y/n? is this about her?”

“the girl directly below us—taller, mean, arrogant, tattoo on her arm and wrist, kind of pretty, nice lips, and jawline… ugh! her!”

“that’s y/n, but you’re reaching with the whole kind of pretty part. petty? yeah, more accurate.”

“last night i went down and asked her to–”

“you went to her place? to do what, complain?” 

“yes!” hanni shuts her eyes and sinks her head deeper into the pillow, sighing softly again. her roommate is new, she can’t be harsh, and plus, it’s danielle. 

“dani… the ra is literally in love with her, and y/n uses that so she can party and get high in her fuckass living room.”

“what?”

“danielle, mo dani, please listen.” hanni sits up, blinking hard as she reaches out ot put a hand on her friends shoulder. “you’ll get used to it, you can use my old headphones and i’ll show you my favorite cafe.”

“you’re just going to let this slide?”

“well until y/n stops flirting with jiyoung; there’s nothing we can really do other than cope every friday—and sometimes saturday—night.” hanni explains, flopping onto the bed and returning to fetal position. “can you put the blanket over me, please? i’m tired and cold… please.”

danielle frowns before covering her roommates body with her weighted blanket, sighing before she returns to her bed, laying down and recollecting all her memories from the night before–of you.

—

you’re late. of course you’re late on the second week of classes, as if last weeks twenty minute surprise appearance wasn’t humbling enough. 

as you rush out of your apartment, you’re met with jiyoung standing right by the exit, as if she’s been waiting for you—she probably has. this has happened at least once a week last year. she greets you with her signature smile and a small piece of chocolate, a gesture that would be sweet if you weren’t in such a hurry. you force a smile and mumble a quick thanks, but you know what’s coming next. the compliments, the small talk, the forced out, cliché lines she always uses. it’s all part of her routine, but you really don’t have the time for it today. you need to get to class.

fifteen minutes later, you’re finally free from jiyoung’s conversation, but you’re also running dangerously late. again. you sprint across campus, your heart pounding in your chest as you mentally prepare for the inevitable stares and the professor’s disapproving remarks.

when you finally reach the classroom, you throw the door open a little too forcefully. the room falls silent as heads turn to face you, the sudden interruption catching everyone’s attention. you freeze for a second, cringing at yourself when you’re caught in the spotlight, before the professor’s voice cuts through the silence.

“late on the second week? what was it, kim… no, yang…” he trails off, squinting at you as if trying to remember your name.

you clear your throat, feeling your face heat up. “l/n, l/n y/n,” you correct him, trying to keep your voice steady.

“well, you’re lucky i’ve just started the lecture. please hurry and take a seat, you’ve already made quite the impression.”

“sorry, sir,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you scan the room for an empty seat. most of the rows are full, and the weight of all those eyes on you makes your skin prickle with discomfort.

finally, you spot an open seat in the fourth row from the top, right at the edge. you hurry over and drop your bag beside the chair, quickly unzipping it to pull out your laptop. your hands move with practiced speed, signing in and opening a page for notes before setting your bag on the empty seat next to you. you look up, hoping to catch up on what you’ve missed so far. 

and that’s when you see her.

danielle. she’s sitting just two seats away from you, her gaze locked on yours the moment you look up. her big brown eyes, framed by those impossibly long lashes, are full of recognition—and something else you can’t quite place, and why are they sparkling? your jaw tenses as you force yourself to look away, zipping up your bag with a little more force than necessary. three seats. that’s all that separates you from the girl who showed up at your doorstep last friday, the one you dismissed without a second thought. and now here she is, sitting way too close for comfort, her presence making the air around you feel heavier.

of course you blindly chose the spot next to her. the new girl who filed a complaint, only to have the door shut on her. it’s just your luck.

you catch her in your peripheral staring at you for a few more seconds before she redirects her attention towards the professor. you let out a breath of relief, now you just have to get through the next hour and fifty minutes near the cute girl you were an ass to.

–

as soon as the class ends, you’re out the door without sparing a glance at danielle. she watches you hurry out, noticing how you started packing up your things five minutes before class was even dismissed. it’s like you couldn’t wait to get away.

you make your way to the engineering building, where you know your roommate yunjin’s class ended a bit earlier. when you spot her in the lobby, you walk up with a bothered look on your face.

“good morning…?” yunjin greets you, her smirk showing she’s amused by your expression.

“you won’t believe who’s in my sociology class,” you say, still reeling from the encounter.

“everyone takes sociology, even the finance freaks,” she replies, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal.

“nevermind.” you roll your eyes, scoffing. “whatever, let’s grab a bite. i’m hungry.”

“you always are,” yunjin chuckles, stepping beside you.

the two of you end up at your favorite local thai place, sharing a large bowl of fried rice. it’s a familiar routine—since freshman year, you’ve known one bowl is more than enough to satisfy both of you. the memory of that first time, half-drunk and thinking the portions would be small, makes you smile despite your lingering annoyance.

as you chew on your second bite, glancing at a notification on your phone, yunjin’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “so, who’s in your sociology class?”

“danielle,” you reply, not looking up from your phone.

“who?”

“the girl from friday.”

yunjin frowns, trying to recall. “at our party? there wasn’t anyone i didn’t know–”

“no, no. the girl you made me deal with. she knocked on the door—big eyes, long lashes.”

“oh, her,” yunjin hums, finally understanding. “what about her?”

“i closed the door on her that night after she complained or whatever. i didn’t think much of it, but then i was late to class because jiyoung wanted to talk to me, and i picked a random spot… turns out it was three fucking seats away from her—danielle.”

yunjin laughs, thankfully before she can take another bite of rice. “seriously?”

“shut up.”

“that’s hilarious. you think she’s going to give you shit?”

“i mean,” you poke at your rice, hesitating, “she doesn’t seem like she will…”

but even as you say it, the thought nags at you. danielle doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge—polite and sweet even when you were being arrogant—almost too good to be true. she looks like she belongs in a fairy tale, with her princess-like appearance and demeanor. meanwhile, you feel like the ugly villain in her story, lurking under the bridge, ready to cast a spell or something like that. the more you think about it, the more ridiculous it seems.

“then you’ll be fine, you were fine shutting the door on her anyway.”

you were fine, but that version of you was under the influence of cheap beer and too focused on going back to your conversation than dealing with someone’s complaint—even if it were from danielle.

“i guess.”

–

the next time you host a party, the volume’s turned down by two notches. you tell yourself it’s because yunjin’s been saying “huh?” to you more often, but deep down, you know that’s not the real reason.

you’ve also decided to stick with one can of beer instead of three. even yujin seemed surprised when you declined the second. 

these parties used to be at jake’s place, but he argued they should be at yours since the ra is madly in love with you, and your place is slightly bigger. you were against it at first, but socializing never hurt, and it made you happy to see others happy. you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the occasional expensive drink that someone brought when their paycheck had been a bit fatter that week.

now, you’re leaning against the counter while minji rummages through a cupboard, searching for spare plastic cups. you take a sip from your sprite—the second can of the night, and surprisingly, neither has been alcoholic (you don’t count the bitter can of beer, it’s only five percent alcohol). yunjin’s voice cuts through the music just loud enough for you to hear, “you think that girl will show up again? give you shit?”

“i’d hope not.” you pretend it’s a truthful statement, your tone firm, a little snarky, and a bit confident, but there’s a small part of you that hopes she does. you catch yourself imagining her showing up in her oversized sleepwear again, her eyes wide, her voice so soft and sweet it makes your chest tighten a little. 

“and if she does?”

“i’ll shut her out again.”

“and if you show up late, then sit three seats away from her again?”

“ignorance.” you sip on your sprite again, licking your lips to savor something that actually satisfies your tastebuds. 

“you’re good at that.”

“aw, thanks.” you say bitterly, hearing yunjin snicker as she tears open a new pack of red plastic cups. “asshat.”

your orange-haired roommate leans against the counter across from you, then says, “i think jungwon brought penjamin.” his infamous pen, the one you took way too many hits of last time that it had you seeing the stars. 

“not again, i don’t trust myself.”

she laughs at you again, “i don’t trust you either, let’s stick with a hit or two instead of five.”

“and you need to stick with a few drinks instead of passing out on the floor again. you’re lucky you were leaning against the couch.”

“womp womp.” you can’t believe her, what an idiot.

“say that again when you wake up with your legs in the fucking blinds, or something. i still don’t know how you don’t have liver damage, and doesn’t that affect your performance on the court?”

“conditioned to drink and score three’s.”

“whatever.” you sigh, then hear a few knocks from the door.

yunjin raises her brows, then chuckles, “hey, it’s your lovergirl.”

“she’s not my�� ugh. be right back.” 

lovergirl, yunjin is going to wake up upside down in her closet if she keeps it up. there’s no chance that she’s attracted to you in the slightest, not with your first impressions. the thought makes you a little dissapointed, but you shake your head, you’re being ridiculous again. 

you shake the thought away, forcing yourself to focus getting to your door and not tripping on the shoe that had been blindlessly kicked off. there’s a quiet anticipation simmering beneath your calm exterior as the music gets more faint in your ears. you tell yourself you’re being stupid, but the truth is harder to ignore—there’s a part of you that wants her to be at the door, even if it’s just to scold you again.

you open the door, and there she is—miss lovergirl herself.

“another party?” she asks, her tone light, almost teasing.

“are you going to tell me to shut the whole thing down? still haven't invested in headphones, have you?”

“actually, i wasn’t going to—the shutting down part, i have headphones being delivered tomorrow.” she replies, smiling. maybe your brows furrow, just a little. “but the music is a little quieter, that i noticed, so maybe my efforts did pay off.” she pauses, then adds, “anyway, my roommate told me there’s no getting through to you about these parties. so, i came here to give you this.” 

she holds out a keychain with a cardholder attached, and you see a picture inside—a photo of you and your little brother at your high school graduation. he’s about twelve in the picture, braces on and cheeks still chubby. it’s one of your favorite photos, and your eyes widen as you take it from her slowly, almost carefully.

“where’d you get this?” you ask, voice a bit more cautious than you intended.

“you dropped it under your seat last lecture. seemed like you were in such a rush to leave, or to avoid me…?” she tilts her head, batting those impossibly long lashes.

you realize she’s not in her sleepwear this time. she’s dressed in everyday clothes—a zip-up over a fitted white shirt, jeans, and some well-worn sneakers. a nike cap sits snugly on her head, her long, wavy hair flowing down in a way that makes you look twice. she’s wearing light makeup, and it strikes you for the first time how nice her lips are, and—

“um, thanks,” you mutter.

“it’s no problem.”

“are you going to ask me to turn the volume down now?” 

she shakes her head, adjusting the backpack slipping down her shoulder. “no, but i'd appreciate it. you’ve already made baby steps.”

if it had been anyone else saying that, you’d have rolled your eyes, maybe even scoffed in their face. but there’s something about the way danielle says it—so genuinely, so kindly—that catches you off guard. you’re used to sharp words and snide remarks, not this… breath of fresh air, this three a.m. glass of water in the form of a person.

“right, okay,” you manage to say.

“well, i'll get going then. my roommate’s friend is coming over to watch a movie with us, so we’d appreciate it if you could maybe turn it down. but, that’s up to you, mate.” 

“oh, okay, yeah.” you feel like you’re melting into a puddle. what is going on with you? “i’ll see what i can do.”

“night then.”

“night?”

she walks off, your eyes follow her until she reacehs the end of the hall. it was the most casual encounter you’ve ever had in a bit, and yet, it felt like so much more. 

–

haerin sits back, watching without a word as hanni and minji bicker over the remote, their voices rising slightly above the hum of the tv. hanni has her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a scowl forming when minji suggests yet another sappy romance. haerin half expects them to start wrestling for control, but just before the tension hits a breaking point, the sound of the door lock twisting stops them. both heads turn to see danielle stepping inside, her hand raised in a small wave, a polite smile on her lips.

“sorry i’m late,” danielle apologizes.

“you’re good,” hanni replies, running her fingers through her hair to fix it. “movie time? can you choose, please…”

“yeah! let me get changed first, okay?”

“okay, okay, but hurry or else minji’s gonna have my limbs cut off or something. and we both know haerin would rather watch than save either of us.” hanni jokes, drawing a chuckle from haerin and a playful glare from minji. 

a few minutes later, danielle is back in an old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. she drops herself right between hanni and minji, effectively acting as a buffer. she grabs the remote, settling under the blanket as her legs casually stretch across hanni's lap.

“where were you, by the way?” hanni asks, feeling danielle’s legs settle more comfortably over her own. “if the bus was late, you could’ve called.”

“my bus came early. i just stopped by y/n’s,” danielle replies casually.

minji’s head snaps toward danielle so fast it’s a wonder she doesn’t get whiplash. haerin even lets out a small gasp of “what?”

“y/n? you mean l/n y/n?” minji echoes, her tone filled with disbelief. “you went to her place?”

danielle nods. “she dropped something in the class we have together, so i returned it.”

“and she didn’t bite your head off?” minji asks, eyes wide. “you’re really something, danielle.”

danielle just laughs softly, her fingers scrolling through the endless netflix catalog in search of a movie they all might actually agree on. she seems unfazed by the shock that mentioning your name has caused, a slight smile playing on her lips. she can’t quite understand the big deal. you’ve been… normal, for the most part—pretty normal, actually, in the three times she’s spoken to you.

“she’s really not that bad,” danielle shrugs, finally stopping on a rom-com that catches her eye. “i can fix her.”

“you can what?” hanni swivels her head toward danielle, eyes wide in disbelief.

“what?” danielle grins. “she doesn’t bite.”

“well, her friend yunjin does,” hanni mutters, thinking back to the group project from hell with yunjin, who’d spent every meeting hungover and useless. “she’s probably just like the people she hangs out with.”

“no, i bet she’s nicer deep down.”

“you’re too pure for this world,” minji murmurs, feeling danielle’s head lean on her shoulder. “she’s got a bad reputation, you know.”

“well, she turned the volume down for us,” danielle insists.

“she did?” hanni raises an eyebrow, surprised.

“yeah, just before i visited her. i told her we’d be having a movie night and said i’d appreciate it if she toned it down a bit. now we can barely feel the bass.”

hanni thinks for a moment. maybe the music is a bit quieter, but she’s gotten so used to it, she barely notices the difference. minji and haerin, on the other hand, don't deal with the noise often—haerin lives with her parents, and minji’s dorm is on the other wing.

danielle presses play, and the conversation shifts. they all settle in, pushing the topic of you, the downstairs neighbor, out of their minds as they focus on the opening scenes of the movie.

hanni leans into haerin, a smile on her lips as her legs tangle with danielle’s. “you’re so interesting, man,” she mutters, half-amused, half-bewildered.

–

there aren't any assigned seats—it's university, for crying out loud. still, you find yourself three seats away from danielle again, like last time, pretending not to notice her as you settle in, determined not to drop anything today. you set your things down carefully, opening up your laptop and pulling out your ipad, keeping your eyes firmly on the screen.

out of the corner of her eye, danielle watches you fumble with the apple pen, spinning it between your ring and middle finger. she sees it slip from your grip and clatter to the floor beside you. you let out a soft sigh, standing to retrieve it, making your way down two rows. when you straighten up and head back, you catch danielle trying to hide a smile, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“what’s so funny?” you ask, a little defensive.

“your pen-spinning skills,” danielle says, turning fully toward you with that same amused smile. “slippery fingers?”

“shouldn’t you be reviewing before the lecture?”

“i usually get here fifteen minutes early,” she replies, still grinning. “i’ve already done that.”

“whatever.” you drop back into your seat, tapping away at your keyboard as the professor approaches the front, fiddling with the hdmi cable. you open your notes app, trying to ignore the way danielle’s laughter still lingers in the air.

“you know i don’t bite, right?” her voice breaks your focus.

“what?”

she nods at the empty seats between you. “you’re sitting pretty far… come sit next to me.”

“i’m not getting up. my stuff’s already out.”

danielle rolls her eyes, moving the desk platform in front of her as she stands, gathering her things without a second thought, and before you know it, she’s dropping into the seat beside you. you weren’t expecting that—her choosing to sit next to you so boldly. but there she is, right next to you, with that grin stretching across her face as she adjusts her notebook.

“there, lazy bum,” she teases, her tone light, eyes flicking back to the professor as he sets up the projection.

you find yourself staring, caught off guard by how close she is. she smells sweet—like cherries, with a mix of amber and jasmine. you quickly shift your gaze back to your laptop, opening your calendar and planner and, almost instinctively, the tab with the jacket you’ve been eyeing for weeks.

when you steal another glance at danielle, she’s put on a pair of glasses. stupid, adorable glasses that make her look even cuter—something you didn’t think was possible. 

you can’t help the small grin that creeps onto your face as you focus back on the slides on the big screen, but your mind is still partially with her, sitting beside you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

—

for the next month, sociology becomes your favorite class—not because of the subject, but because it means you get almost two hours near danielle. she’s just as sweet as she looks, always greeting you with a warm smile and tossing out casual small talk that somehow feels more personal every time. she compliments you now and then, little things like “your hair looks nice today” or “i like your shoes,” which leaves you more flustered than you’d care to admit. soon enough, it's routine—you both leave class together, walking side by side until you reach the main lobby of the science building. danielle always waves goodbye with that bright smile, her eyes sparkling, even when the sky is overcast. you smile back, feeling a little bashful, but somehow, it feels right.

sometimes, you even meet up at the entrance of your little dorm complex to head to class together. danielle's just a floor above, so you run into her in the elevator sometimes too. there’s something about her—something so effortlessly charming and magnetic. it’s like she’s a light, and you’re a moth, drawn into her presence without even realizing it.

what you don’t realize is that jiyoung, your ra, has noticed these little interactions. she catches glimpses now and then, her curiosity piqued.

after another class ends, you wave goodbye to danielle, planning to meet up with yunjin, but before you can leave, jiyoung intercepts you. 

"hey, didn’t see you this morning,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes narrowing slightly. “i haven’t been seeing you around as much, actually."

"oh, yeah… i’ve been…” you start, your gaze flicking past her to danielle, who’s almost out of the building. jiyoung looks in the same direction to see danielle as well, her brows furrow just a bit. you continue, “um, spending more time with this girl in my sociology class."

"right, danielle? she’s on the floor above you, right?”

“yeah…”

“hm,” jiyoung murmurs, more to herself than to you. “you’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?”

“i mean, yeah. she’s nice and—why does it matter?”

“you’re not into her, are you?”

the question catches you off guard, like a punch you didn’t see coming. you stare at jiyoung like she’s lost her mind. “w-what? n-no, no, she’s just— you know, we’re friends. we’re friendly.”

“nothing more, right?”

“i mean, no, but even if it were… why does it matter to you?”

jiyoung’s gaze drops to the floor, and she mumbles, “i don’t know? i mean, you said you didn’t even want to date.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling in frustration. “look, i’ve got to meet up with yunjin. i’ll see you around, okay?”

you turn to leave, but jiyoung’s soft scoff stops you in your tracks. she hesitates for a moment before speaking again.

“by the way,” she says, her tone light but pointed. you turn your head slightly, just enough for her to see the edge of your expression. “you can’t party this weekend. there’s been an increase in complaints.”

you pivot to face her fully, opening your mouth to argue but then closing it again. you bite the inside of your lip, letting the frustration simmer before you finally nod, muttering a resigned, “fine.”

jiyoung watches you, her expression unreadable, as you walk away, but you don’t look back. the weekend suddenly feels a lot quieter than you planned.

—

even if you’d wanted to party, it wouldn't have been an option. yunjin’s gone home for the weekend to help her sister, and you’re stuck in your dorm, feeling sicker than you’ve ever felt.

the day started off fine, just a light headache that you shrugged off. but somewhere between the gym and a quick grocery run, everything went downhill. by the time you made it back to your place, it felt like your body had been run over by a truck. your head throbbed, every limb ached, and a wave of dizziness nearly had you collapsing against the wall as soon as you stepped inside.

you barely made it to the kitchen, dropping the paper bag of groceries onto the counter before stumbling toward your bedroom. the cold hit you like a slap to the face, making you shiver uncontrollably. you rummaged through your closet for the thickest sweatshirt and sweatpants you could find, pulling them on with shaky hands. 

you didn’t even think to check your temperature; the pounding in your head and the chills wracking your body were enough to know you were in trouble. grabbing two ibuprofen from the drawer, you swallowed them dry with a couple of forced gulps of water, then collapsed onto your bed. 

you pulled the covers around you, but they did little to stop the violent shivers. your teeth chattered, and you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as if that would somehow keep the cold at bay. every breath felt heavy, every blink longer than the last, until finally, exhaustion pulled you under.

—

the music is noticeably quieter these days, sparing your hearing and everyone else a floor above or below you. really, it’s all danielle's doing. she's somehow found your weakness—those soft, pleading eyes and that gentle voice asking you to turn it down. it’s a saturday night, and normally she’d hear the faint beats of charli xcx or troye sivan vibrating up through the floor, but tonight there’s nothing. 

danielle seems to be the only one in her shared dorm—and probably the whole building—who feels unsettled by the lack of music. the silence is almost unnerving. 

“finally, i can take a nap without those headphones on,” hanni sighs, dropping face-first onto her bed like a log. 

danielle, leaning against her bedframe, bites her lip. “don’t you think it’s weird though? no party tonight?”

“weird? dani, this is a miracle,” hanni mumbles, already half-asleep. “it’s been months since she hasn’t partied, and that was only because we were all gone during summer break.”

but as hanni's breathing evens out and she drifts off, danielle’s frown deepens. it is weird. you’ve never missed a saturday night. she doesn’t even have your number to text and check if everything’s alright.

minutes pass, and her mind races with possibilities—maybe you’re just tired, or busy with something else, or… sick? before she knows it, danielle is up and moving, driven by a strange concern she doesn’t fully understand. she tucks hanni in properly, pulling the blanket up over her instead of letting it dangle off the bed. 

once she's sure hanni is comfortable, she heads for the door, slipping on her slides and grabbing her key. she feels a small surge of determination as she steps into the hallway. if something’s wrong, she needs to know. danielle isn’t sure what she’ll find out, but she's already halfway down the hall, her feet carrying her to your place almost on their own.

she gets to your door quickly, fixing her hair because you’re somehow the only person who makes her feel the need to fuss over her appearance. 

danielle knocks twice, softly at first, just enough to be heard over normal conversation, but there's no answer. she waits, listening for any sound from inside, even from your orange-haired roommate—but nothing. she knocks again, a little louder this time, about the same level as when you party. still nothing. 

determined, she finally bangs on the door with all her might and shouts, "y/n! hello?" her voice echoes in the hallway, and a few curious heads peek out from behind their own doors, wondering what’s going on.

there's a long moment of silence before she hears a faint, “coming! coming...” it sounds like you, but groggier, almost as if the sound is muffled by the door between you two.

danielle waits, her heart pounding in her chest, until the door opens just a crack, and you peek out, looking utterly exhausted. 

“y/n?”

“w-what, what...” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, and slightly slurred, like you’ve been asleep for days. "who— danielle? what are you doing here? there's no party," you mutter, breathing heavily like you’ve just run a mile. "you don’t have to… have to yell at me."

“i’m not here to yell at you, i never yell at you, silly," danielle says softly, a small smile on her face. "can i come in?”

you hum in agreement, and she pushes the door open further, stepping inside. 

the apartment is dimly lit, with only the glow from the streetlights outside and a small lamp in the living room. danielle’s eyes dart around—she’s never actually been inside before, just caught glimpses through the doorway during those parties. it’s surprisingly clean, smelling of lavender and fresh laundry instead of the stale beer or weed she expected. 

you stumble forward, catching yourself on the kitchen counter, your legs shaky and unsteady. 

danielle rushes over, her hand reaching for your arm. “are you okay?”

“y-yeah, i’m fine," you mumble, but your voice is rough, strained. 

she flicks on a light, and you wince, shielding your eyes with the back of your hand. danielle guides you to the couch, sitting you down gently. you slump back into the cushions, and she takes a closer look—your hair is stuck to your forehead, cheeks rosy, and there’s a dullness in your usually sharp eyes.

without thinking, she presses the back of her hand to your forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from your skin. “you’re burning up,” she says softly, concern etched in her voice. “how long have you been like this?”

“i– i don’t know… i’m so tired…” you murmur, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“let’s get you to your bed,” danielle suggests. “can you show me?”

you nod weakly, and she helps you to your feet. you sway slightly, leaning heavily on her as she tries to steady you. you’re taller, heavier, and she’s not exactly built for this—but she does her best, slipping an arm around your waist to support you.

your head drops forward, and you breathe slowly against her shoulder. danielle's heart races as she feels the warmth of your breath, and when you look up, your faces are inches apart, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off you. her cheeks warm up, she wonders if your fever is contagious.

but she shakes it off, tightening her grip on you. “come on,” she whispers. “let’s get you to bed.”

you lead her to your room, and she’s a little surprised by how tidy it is. the walls are painted in soft, earthy tones, the furniture minimalistic and neatly arranged. polaroids and film photos cover the walls, snapshots of you and your friends, some of family, too. there’s a warmth to it, a sense of calm that she hadn’t expected. she notices a movie poster above your bed—something she doesn’t recognize. you collapse onto the bed immediately, curling up into a tight ball, yanking the nearest blanket over you with a groan.

danielle watches you for a moment, then quietly slips out of the room. you lie there, thoughts buzzing in your foggy mind. how did she know you were sick? why is she here? did she come just for you? did you forget something? but the craziest thought of all is that danielle is in your apartment, just the two of you. the realization sends a tiny thrill through your chest.

she returns a few minutes later, carrying a bowl, a bottle of medicine, and a thermometer. she sits beside you on the edge of the bed, nudging you over gently so you're lying flat on your back, your tired eyes meeting hers. she sets the bowl beside you and slides the thermometer into your mouth. you stare at her, feeling a bit dazed, and she offers a small, reassuring smile.

when it beeps, she pulls it out and checks the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. “you’ve got a fever, it’s pretty high,” she murmurs, setting the thermometer down and reaching for a water bottle. “i kind of went through your place to find this, i hope that’s okay.”

you nod weakly, letting her help you sit up on your elbows. she presses the bottle to your lips, and you sip slowly, a few drops spilling out and dribbling down your chin. you reach up, embarrassed, to wipe them away, but danielle just grins at you gently, wiping them with her sleeve.

she places the bottle down and dips her hand into the bowl. you lie back, too tired to care, hearing the soft sound of water being wrung out. then, without warning, she presses a cool, damp cloth to your forehead, and you wince at the sudden chill, a small whine escaping your lips. danielle clicks her tongue softly, using her thumb to swipe a stray drop of water away from the corner of your eye. 

“i know it’s cold, but it’ll help bring your fever down,” she explains gently.

you feel her hand slide down, and suddenly her fingers are wrapped around yours. her thumb brushes over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, and you let out a shaky breath, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. you hum softly, the tension easing out of your body.

"is it okay if i stay for a bit?" she asks quietly. "i don't want you to be alone, but this is your place, after all."

“p-please,” you whisper, gripping her hand tighter, needing the comfort. “please stay.”

she smiles warmly, nodding, and you feel the weight of her presence, steady and calming, beside you. “i’ll stay close then,” she promises softly. “don’t worry.”

—

you wake up with a low groan, feeling like you’ve just been hit by a bus. every muscle in your body aches, and your head throbs just a bit. blinking against the dim light filtering through the blinds, you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you look around, trying to get your bearings. 

your gaze falls on the bowl of water beside the bed, with two rags soaking in it, and the thermometer resting on the edge. memories from before you passed out come flooding back, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of danielle sitting by your side, taking care of you. your heart does a little flip at the memory, and you shake your head, trying to steady your thoughts.

there’s no sign of her in your room. she’s not in your bed, and you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. honestly, if you had woken up to find her next to you, you’re pretty sure your heart would’ve just exploded right then and there. 

with a bit more urgency than necessary, you get up and make your way to the living room. your steps are quiet as you peek around the corner, and there she is, curled up on the couch. she’s asleep, head resting on a pillow, her zip-up hoodie pulled over her legs like a makeshift blanket. the sight tugs at something in your chest, a mix of guilt and gratitude. she stayed the whole night.

you hurry back to your room, grabbing another blanket from your bed, and return to her side. you drape it over her carefully, making sure not to wake her. danielle shifts slightly, mumbling something you can’t quite make out. her face softens in sleep, and you find yourself smiling without meaning to. 

the morning light slips through the blinds, casting a warm glow across her face, illuminating the soft curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fan out against her skin. she looks peaceful, so pretty in the soft light, and you let yourself enjoy the sight for just a moment longer than you probably should.

you let out a small sigh and decide to leave her be, tiptoeing away quietly. but as you move, you can’t help but glance back one last time, her serene expression etched into your memory. then, feeling a strange mix of comfort and nerves, you head to your room to get yourself ready.

— 

danielle wakes up only thirty minutes after you, sitting up a minute after she’s blinked herself awake. she sits up and catches you on the floor by the coffee table, knees drawn to your chest, a bowl of fruit and two pieces of toast in front of you. her vision clears, and she catches you popping a blueberry into your mouth, scrolling absently through your phone.

"good morning..." she mutters, stretching and rubbing her eyes.

you turn at the sound of her voice, surprised to see her up already. she's quicker at waking up than you; you would have stayed in bed for another ten minutes at least, but the pounding in your head forced you up earlier. "hey, i didn’t think you’d stay the whole night."

“i just wanted to make sure you were alright," she explains, moving to sit next to you, mirroring your posture, knees tucked in. "i checked in on you during the night to change the rag on your head and everything, seems like you’re back to normal.”

“you didn’t have to, danielle,” you say, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with embarrassment.

“but i wanted to.” she shrugs lightly, her eyes softening as she looks at you. “how are you feeling?”

“i took two advils before brushing my teeth," you say with a small smile. "feeling pretty great now.”

“i’m glad. your fever was pretty high.”

“was it?” you raise an eyebrow, grabbing a piece of strawberry and popping it into your mouth.

“yeah.” she picks a piece of kiwi from the bowl and eats it. “i was worried.”

you turn your head, meeting her gaze directly. her eyes look a bit tired, her face bare of makeup, but she still looks good—so natural, so effortlessly beautiful. a thought crosses your mind: you owe her for this, for being so kind and caring when she didn’t have to be.

";ast night i didn’t hear any loud noises from downstairs," danielle continues, “there wasn’t a party going on, and i got a little concerned.”

you chuckle, setting your phone aside, resting your cheek against your knee. “so you came because… there wasn’t a party?”

“it was pretty suspicious,” she insists with a playful grin. “then you opened the door looking like you’d just fought a bear, stumbling around. it was kind of funny, and cute.”

her compliment catches you off guard. you turn away quickly, pretending to be more interested in the fruit than you are. "thank you, danielle," you mumble. "i owe you."

“it’s nothing,” she says softly. "as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters." her words feel like a direct hit to your heart, it’s as if cupid had a gun instead of a bow and shot you right in the chest, making you feel strangely warm and fluttery inside.

“you’re so… hey, what about your roommate? isn't she wondering where you are?”

“oh, hanni,” danielle giggles, checking her phone for any messages but finding none. “she was passed out before i left last night. it's not even ten yet, so she’s probably still asleep.” she stands up, and you rise with her, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. “but i should go check on her, and fix myself up. i probably look like a mess right now.”

you look perfect. it almost lips right off your tongue, but you manage to shut your mouth.

you lead her to the door, wishing she could stay a bit longer, just a little while more. “of course,” you say, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. “thank you again for everything.”

danielle places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it’s nothing,” she says warmly. “i’ll see you around.”

you open the door, watching her step outside, but she turns back, hesitating. before she can say anything else, you speak first. "hey, danielle?"

“yes?”

“are you free later?”

“i’m free all day,” she replies, though she adds, “but i might run errands with hanni.”

“right, well.” you play with your hair nervously. danielle tilts her head, noticing the shift in your demeanor. “you should come over tonight. i’ll cook you dinner—to repay you, of course.”

she chuckles, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “that’s quite intimate,” she teases. “is this your way of asking me out?”

“uh—” your heart races, but you nod, swallowing hard. “yes. and i'd hope your way of accepting is… coming over around six?”

danielle's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll see you then, as long as you’re not sick again.”

“i’d count on that if it meant having you take care of me again.”

she glances away, hiding a smile, and you catch sight of the tiny moles on her face. "you're really good at this," she says softly.

“i’m really not,” you admit, “but it’s you, so i thought i’d try a little harder.”

she rolls her eyes playfully, then steps closer and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. your skin heats up instantly, heart racing faster than before. she pulls back with a grin, waving as she says, “see you tonight, six p.m.!”

“see you…” you reply, still stunned as you watch her walk down the hall. she glances back twice, each time your smiles mirroring and growing wider.

you wonder if you should cut down on the weekly parties, maybe dedicate more time to being with her. but that might be getting ahead of yourself. for now, all you know is that you have to prepare the best dinner ever tonight—something that might just earn you another kiss, maybe on the lips this time.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: “The Tru Fru Tragedy”

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: Teen

Warning: mentions of monthly periods, theft, Paige not getting called any pet names.., Kayla helping you get your lick back...

Word Count: 1,245

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: you carefully stocked up on all your favorite period snacks—especially Tru Fru—only to wake up and find them gone. The culprits? Paige and KK....

Everything was fine when I went to sleep.

I had my heating pad, my favorite blanket, and—most importantly—my fully stocked snack stash, featuring multiple bags of Tru Fru and the holy grail: Tru Fru ice cream.

I had prepared so well for this period.

Then I woke up.

And my world came crashing down.

I stretched, reaching for my phone to check the time. Paige and KK had left for their pre-game lunch, but that wasn’t my concern right now. No, my immediate mission was to retrieve my Tru Fru and binge some trashy reality TV before heading to their game.

I padded over to my mini fridge, humming to myself as I pulled the door open—

Nothing.

I blinked. Shut the fridge. Opened it again.

Still nothing.

My gaze snapped to the snack drawer. I yanked it open.

Empty.

Oh. Hell. No.

By the time Paige and KK got back, I was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, fuming.

Paige walked in first, grinning. “Hey, babe, you ready to—”

“Paige. Madison. Bueckers.”

The way her smile instantly dropped? Satisfying.

KK, the second culprit, peeked over Paige’s shoulder, immediately sensing the tension. “Uh… what’s going on?”

I stood up slowly, tilting my head. “Where. Is. My. Tru Fru?”

Paige and KK exchanged a look. Paige tried a smile, rubbing the back of her neck. “Okay, so—”

“You ate them, didn’t you?”

Paige winced. “Not all of them…”

KK, not reading the room at all, shrugged. “To be fair, they were really good.”

I turned my glare to her. “Oh, to be fair? You raided my stash while I was asleep.”

Paige took a step closer, hands raised in surrender. “Babe, ma, I didn’t think you’d be that mad—”

I held up a finger. “Don’t. ‘Babe’ or 'ma' me. You and your little accomplice are dead to me.”

KK’s eyes widened. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not get crazy—”

I looked Paige directly in the eyes. “I hope Kayla braids your hair extra tight today.”

Paige gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.” I pulled out my phone and texted Kayla right in front of them. Make Paige’s braids extra tight today. She wronged me.

Kayla’s response was almost immediate. Bet.

Paige groaned, running a hand down her face. KK was already halfway out the door. “I want no part in this anymore.”

I folded my arms. “Too late. Kamorea you’re both paying me back in full after the game.”

Paige sighed, stepping closer again. “Baby, please—”

I turned away dramatically. “Don’t ‘baby’ me, Madison.”

Paige let out a loud groan. “You’re really mad.”

“No duh.”

True to my word, I ignored Paige all through pre-game.

I sat courtside, arms crossed, eyes on the court but refusing to acknowledge her existence. Even when she made a huge three-pointer, I only clapped politely.

KK, from across the bench, was dying. She kept elbowing Paige, whispering, “She’s really not looking at you, bro.”

Even Azzi noticed, leaning in to ask, “What did you do, Paige?”

Paige just groaned. “Ate her Tru Fru.”

Azzi stared at her like she had lost her mind. “You deserve this.”

After UConn won, Paige and KK were still on thin ice.

As soon as they found me outside the locker room, Paige wrapped her arms around me, resting her forehead against mine. “You have to forgive me now. We won, and i think Kay pushed my hair line back more than it's already goin.”

I kept my arms at my sides. “Oh, so you win and suddenly I’m supposed to forget about my suffering?”

KK threw her hands up. “Okay, fine! We’ll go get more Tru Fru! Just—please stop torturing us.”

I eyed them both. “…You promise?”

Paige nodded. “Whatever you want, baby. Just stop calling me Madison.”

I huffed. “Fine. But I’m coming with you to supervise.”

Half an hour later, we were back at my apartment, my snack stash restored.

Paige, now finally allowed back into my good graces, sat on the couch, pulling me into her lap. “So we’re good now?”

I hummed, pretending to think. “Almost.”

She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “How about now?”

I sighed dramatically. “I guess I can forgive you.”

KK groaned from across the room. “Thank God.”

I turned to Paige. “Say it.”

She blinked. “Say what?”

I smirked. “Say I was right.”

Paige groaned, but the small smile on her face betrayed her. “You were right.”

I beamed. “Thank you. Now we’re good.”

Paige chuckled, tucking me closer. “Ma, you’re so lucky I love you.”

I smirked. “No, you’re lucky, I put up with your goofy shit.”

She kissed my forehead, smiling against my skin. “Yeah, I really am, now please help a girl out. My head hurts.”

I rolled my eyes and gently ran my fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp. "So ladies what have we learned." I say looking at both girls.

"Don't touch your Tru Fru." They day in unison with a pout in their face, before kk adds "at least without asking, first."

I rolled my eyes "Yeah at least without asking first."

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[augustvandyne]

Five times you and Addison Montgomery almost kiss, and the one time you do, please?

i love addie so much she’s so cute! also, i wasn’t sure if you preferred this to take place during greys or private practice, so i went with greys!

tw: mentions of vomiting

a story for the grandkids

1.

It was in the crossing of early morning, late night.

You’d been at the hospital for over forty-eight hours. And only about ten of that had been small naps.

Being on Addison’s service was kicking your ass, but you wanted to be an OBGYN with your whole heart and soul, and you would give up anything for that. Even a little sleep.

You were currently watching over a baby whose mother had just left her.

This world was messed up, and you hated people for it. Sometimes you thought you were too empathetic for this world, but that’s what made you a great doctor.

Or at least that’s what Addison told you.

You’re drifting to sleep as you feel a tug on your pointer finger. You spent most of the night just watching the tiny humans chest thump with heartbeats.

But now you were getting restless, and there hadn’t been any response from the baby at all until now.

You sat up excitedly at the small on and off pressure being added to your finger.

“Hi, sweet girl,��� You run your thumb over her small knuckles. “That’s it. You’re so strong.”

Your eyes are sparkling and your lips are wide with a large smile plastering your face.

Addison watches the interaction from across the NICU, and she thinks it’s the cutest thing she’s ever witnessed. She’s worked with a lot of aspiring interns interested in neonatal work, but she’s never met someone like you.

“Everything okay?” Addison is watching you more than the baby.

“Yes!” You are bouncing in your seat. “She— she’s responsive. I’ll admit, I was falling asleep for a second— but I felt a tug on my finger, and— she’s so strong, Dr. Montgomery.”

“Please, call me Addison,” She smiles at you, grabbing a pen from her lab coat to mark the newfound information on the chart. “And thank you for being honest with me. This is amazing news.”

“If I have to call you Addison, you should call me Y/n,” You try to convince her.

Addison chuckles, “We’ll see.”

You lower your head so your level with the incubator, your eyes closing slightly.

Addison looks up from the chart, her lips tilting up from hearing your small snores.

“Dr. Y/l/n,” Addison clears her throat, and you jump awake.

“Huh?” You rub your eyes, letting go of the babies hand for the first time in hours.

“You should go home. Get some sleep,” Addison nods.

“But— I still have a few more hours—“

“I’m telling you to go home,” Addison places her pen back in the pocket she retrieved it. “You came in early yesterday, therefore, I’m cutting you off for today.”

“Okay,” You chuckle. You stand and come closer to her, moving to stand between the incubator and her. “I’ll see you..”

“Whenever I please,” Addison gives you a breathtaking smile, only now realizing the two of you are very close.

She thinks about it for a split second, her eyes closing in on your lips. But she clenches her jaw and takes a tiny step back.

She’s grateful you’re too tired to remember this tomorrow.

“Go on, Dr. Y/l/n,” Addison nods towards the door to the NICU.

2.

You huff for what had to be the hundredth time in the past hour.

There was nothing you hated more than plastics. It wasn’t the treatments, per se.. actually, that was part of it. You hated seeing them in pain as you dressed their burns and their cries.

But you also hated Mark Sloan. You could feel his stares on you as you worked on what he’d asked. He treated you like an object, and you were over it.

You also hated him because of the way he treated Addison.

Yes, you know, she was definitely in the wrong, but she’s apologized and everyone is over it. At least everyone except Mark.

“Y/l/n. If you huff one more time you’ll be on dry cleaner and coffee duty,” Mark threatens.

Although it wasn’t really a threat to you. It was better than wondering when he was going to pounce on you.

“It’s better than being here,” You mumble, finishing a dressing on a mans hand. He was a champ.

“What? Wanna share with the class?”

“I said it’s better than being here,” You finally snapped. “I will happily get your coffee and dry cleaning.”

“Perfect,” Mark flashed you a smile without even telling you where to go and what to get. You’d just ask Alex.

You somehow managed to stumble into the NICU, in search for Alex, but you didn’t find him.

You only found Addison.

“Oh, thank god. Someone sane,” Addison comes towards you and puts her hands on your shoulders.

“I don’t know about that,” You laugh. “But I do know I might kill Mark Sloan tonight.”

“Ugh, you got Mark? Out of everyone?” Addison grimaces. “I’m sorry. I’ll help you plan.”

“Amazing,” You smiled blissfully— just being in the NICU and near Addison is what you needed to calm yourself.

You lean your forehead on Addison’s shoulder, and you feel Addison’s hand make its way to the back of your head.

When you lift your head, your mouth is awfully to the side of Addison’s face.

She locks eyes with you but moves her head to the side, away from your face. She notices Alex towards the back of the room, flirting with a nurse.

“Karev, show Y/l/n where Dr. Sloan gets his coffee and his dry cleaning.”

3.

Nothing could have prepared you for what went wrong on that table today.

You knew this was a possibility going into neonatal, and fetal, but even that couldn’t have prepared you for the first death of a mother.

You didn’t even know what went wrong, really.

The mother was fine— you were delivering her baby by C-section and then all of the sudden she started crashing.

Addison had to lead you to the side before she tried to save the patient. You just stood there. Painless, numb, frozen.

It was like you couldn’t breathe.

And when Addison called time of death you all but ran out of the operating room and towards an on-call room.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your scrub cap in your hands as you leaned your head back in hopes to get the tears to go away.

“Y/l/n,” Addison crouches down in front of you, her hand finding a comforting spot on your knee.

You try to ignore the burning sensation of her hand through your scrubs.

“I don’t—“ Your voice cracks and you move your hands to your face, crying into the scrub cap.

“Shh,” Addison shushes you, running another comforting hand up and down the side of your thigh. “We had no idea that was going to happen. It’s not your fault.”

“But her poor husband,” Your words are muffled through the cap. “And the baby..”

“I know,” Addison removes her hand from the side of your leg and moves your hand from your face. “It’s okay.”

Addison lifts herself from the floor and to the bed beside you.

She looks at you with sympathy, because she remembers the first mother she lost. It tore her apart just as it was doing to you.

“It will get better,” Addison promises.

“It’s not fair,” You blow out a breath. “She was fine.”

“Stop. You’re getting yourself worked up,” Addison frowns, pulling you into her side.

You melt into her side, your left leg moving on top of her own. You vigorously wipe at your tears, but they just keep coming.

You sob into her shoulder for a few minutes, soaking her dark blue scrubs to a darker blue.

Addison lifts your head to see your face.

It’s mostly dark in the room, only a small lamp sat on the desk in the back corner. You could barely see her face, but she could see yours perfectly.

She wipes the tears from your face and pushes the damp hair away that sticks onto your face.

Your eyelashes stick together as you look down at her lips slightly, and back up towards her eyes.

“You okay?” Addison’s eyes make their way down to your lips.

She leans forward, and she almost thinks she’s going to, but she pulls you in for a hug.

“Yeah,” You sigh.

4.

“It’d be nice if I could breathe right now,” You joked, although it wasn’t really a joke. It felt like the air had been swept from your lungs.

How did you get stuck with your hand on the bomb?, was a very good question.

One you definitely didn’t have the answer to.

All you knew was the second the paramedics hand was out of there, yours was right inside the body.

Your hand was growing tired, but you really didn’t want to die today. You haven’t even really fell in love yet, not really, and that’s something you’d like to experience before dying.

The next few minutes fly by in a blur. Meredith and Cristina come up with a plan to safely take care of the bomb, and the next second your out the door. Praying to any Gods above that you make it out of this alive.

“Breathe, Y/n,” Meredith reminds you.

“I can’t,” You let out a shaky gust of air. “I really c— can’t.”

“Come on, now is not the time to have an asthma attack,” Cristina curses. “I don’t have her extra inhaler, do you?”

“No.. she gave it to..”

“Addison,” The two say together.

“Crap,” You gasp for air.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Burke looks between the two - Meredith and Cristina - as a sheen of sweet forms on his forehead. “One of you are going to have to take over for her and the other needs to take her to Dr. Montgomery now. Before things get out of hand and we all die.”

“You’re right,” Meredith nods. “Okay, I’ve got it. A count of three, Y/n, got it?”

“Yes,” You’re trying to inhale anything at this point, but you can’t seem to grab anything.

You successfully make the trade off with Meredith, and your anxiety skyrockets as you are forced to leave her behind.

“Y/n—“

“I know,” You share a silent understanding with your best friend.

Tell him.

I know.

“Come on, let’s go,” Cristina tugs on your arm and takes you right towards the redhead.

“Oh, y/n,” Addison dives right into your arms, unaware of the fact that you can’t breathe at all. “Thank god you’re alright. You are okay, right? I don’t see any bruises.”

“Dr. Montgomery,” Cristina breaks the moment. “You have her inhaler?”

“Oh!” Addison sees the paleness in your face and begins reaching for your inhaler, finding it in her back pocket. “Here.”

Addison doesn’t care about the blood coating your hand as she holds your hand to help you with your inhaler.

Addison leans her face forward to make sure you’re doing it right, and when you remove your hand her lips are awfully close to your face.

You take a sharp inhale of breath you didn’t have a second ago, and you actually think she’s gonna go through with it for a second.

But you had an audience, and she didn’t want your first kiss to be in front of her ex-husband and your subordinates.

“You’re okay?” Addison checks over you.

“You called me by my name,” Is the first thing you say when you’re fully back.

Addison laughs, “I did.”

5.

You giggle to yourself as you sit at the bar in Joes.

You were all supposed to originally go there so you could drink and do trauma dumps for the week, but everyone got called in for their respective specialties, except you.

A familiar fragrance hits your nose, and you rest back, almost falling out of the stool at the bar.

“Woah there,” Addison catches you quickly before you fall.

“Addie,” You sigh in content, laying your arm across the table, your head resting in the crook of your arm.

“Hm?” Addison presses her lips together. “Meredith told me I might find you here.”

“She did?” You ask with a little too much excitement.

“Yeah,” Addison laughs at you. “What happened? Are you upset? Is that why you’re like this?”

“Nooooo,” You poke her on the nose.

You begin to stand, putting your coat on due to the frigid weather.

“Where are you off to?” Addison stands quickly, following you right out the door.

“The hospital!” You gasp. “To save more babies. I like babies. I want babies. I want them with this one person, but I don’t think they want them with me. Which is okay! I’m.. I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Addison follows you to the grass, holding your hair back as you empty your stomach onto the ground.

She pushes down the jealousy as she rubs your back soothingly.

You lean up fast, looking her in the eyes with the most adorable expression (in her opinion).

You give a wide smile, leaning forward the slightest bit.

She does think about it, but your first kiss shouldn’t be this way. You wouldn’t even be able to remember it in the morning. And your mouth tasted awful.

“Come on,” Addison steers you away from the grass and back into the bar. “Let’s get you a coffee. Maybe some fries. How does that sound?”

You groan in response.

+1

Weddings really just irked you. And you didn’t know what it was about them.

Maybe the fact that you spend so much money for a stupid party you won’t even remember in two years, but Addison seemed to love it.

That’s the only reason you were going - was for Addison.

You’d noticed over the past few weeks how close Addison has come to kissing you. You were really hoping today might be it.

You were a bridesmaid, due to you being one of Cristina’s very best friends.

Although right now you were really regretting even agreeing in the first place.

First off, you hated the dress. Brown? Out of any color? Second, (again on the dress) it didn’t fit your body type well at all. And lastly, you were beginning to think there wouldn’t even be a wedding.

Cristina kept freaking out. All day. And now you could hear someone approaching the door. You had a feeling it was Burke.

Meredith calls for you and when you come to the door it’s not Burke.

It’s Addison.

“Addison,” You slip out of the room. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay with Burke?”

“Everything’s okay for now,” Addison keeps a stoic expression on her face. “But is she almost ready? He’s getting antsy, and he might not go through with it.”

You clench your jaw, shaking your head.

“I’m not even the maid of honor and I’m running around fixing everything?” You whisper-shout.

“Don’t get mad at me,” Addison lifts her brows.

“I’m just— this whole wedding is a disaster. First these stupid dresses, second the bachelorette party? I mean, what the hell kind of party was that?! And now Cristina can’t remember her vows, and there may as well—“

You’re cut off by Addison’s lips smashing onto yours.

“Finally,” You sigh, leaning into her.

Her hands find your hips, grabbing onto them as she pushes you against the wall. Your arms wrap around her neck.

“And for the record,” She says between kisses. “I love this dress on you.”

This was a story for the grandkids.

[xoxochb]

Play wrestling with Percy and sweet girl?

these are the same cuties that would die for each other

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“stop squirming!”

percy laughs in the midsts of your pulls on his hair, fisting them and pulling out tiny strands. “I can’t, you’re injuring me!”

“good!”

you take a portion of his hair on the back of his head and shove his face into the pillow. his voice is muffled from the blue pillow, protesting that you give him mercy.

you don’t.

percy’s hands reach out to grab your wrists to prevent you from suffocating him, however in your dominant position straddling him, forcefully pushing his pretty face into the pillow it’s not very simple.

but he manages to, at the very least, lift his head from its suffocating pose, ignoring your hands gripping his raven hair tightly.

“you’re gonna kill me, sweet girl!”

and despite all that, a smile remains painting both of your expressions.

“oh no!” you dramatize, letting your hold on his hair soften. “what will I ever do without your dirty jokes?”

percy takes advantage of your current loosened grasp and takes your wrists into his hands. your eyes widen at this and you shake them around to retrieve once again.

“percy! this isn’t fair.”

“fair?” he laughs hysterically. “so was it fair when you were trying to suffocate me?”

“duh it was.” you roll your eyes. percy gently kisses each of your wrists. “you’re trying to seduce me into not doing it again.”

“maybe.”

a definite yes, his smirk says so.

“or are you too scared to fight back?”

“I’m not scared, sweet girl.”

you groan and frustratedly try to take back your wrists again. “let me have my hands!”

“no can do.”

his lips reach the pads of your fingers. a brilliant idea crosses your mind.

you let him continue until your pointer, where you slip your finger into his mouth. to you presumption, he releases your wrist as you add in two more fingers.

it was fun until his teeth sank down on your skin. you yelp and pull them away and up to your chest protectively. “you bit me!”

“you were trying to gag me!”

“so?”

“so I was fighting back like you said.”

you scowl and look down at your fingers. blood hadn’t been drawn though with his shark-like teeth, there were marks left. your scowl reduces to a frown.

percy matched your expression on queue. “lemme see your hands, sweet girl.”

“no! I don’t want you to bite me again.”

“I’m not gonna bite you, just give me your hands.”

you give him your hands. he runs his thumb over the bite marks before pulling them up to his lips, delicately tracing them over each mark.

“hm. kinky.”

you only ended where you began, and so it started again.

[cosmopretty]

Caitlin Clark X Fem Headcannons

She is the sweetest girlfriend ever

Always staring at you no matter where she is her eyes are always drawn to you

Super touchy- physical touch is her love language

Caitlin loves to teaches you basketball

Caitlin’s hands hold your waist behind you, while you fiddle with the basketball in your hands. She bends her head down so it can lean on your shoulder “Come on baby shoot just like I taught you” she whispers letting go of your waist and moving to stand a few steps behind you. Looking back at her for confirmation she nods and you turn around “I’ll try Cait” you say before bending your arms and shooting the ball just like she taught you.

The ball swirls around the net before falling you and you start laughing “I thought it was gonna go in for a second” you say through your laughter. Caitlin hands fall down to her sides “Me too” she shakes her head before grabbing another ball. You shake your head no and cross your arms “Come on it’s been an hour I’m tired” you complain to her.

“Just make one more three pointer and we go home baby I promise” Caitlin tells you handing you the ball. She motions you to shoot once again “Fine but you’re giving me a massage after this I’m so sore” you point your finger at her while you talk. Turning away from her back to face the basketball hoop you bend your knees slightly shooting the ball and successfully landing a three. You jump up and down and clap your hand “I did it I did it” you laugh turning around and grabbing her cheek pulling her down into a kiss.

Wearing her jersey to basketball games and cheering her on court side

Good luck kisses before every game and after

You do her hair for her before you guys go out or before games

She’s a golden retriever girlfriend

Cooking for her while she watches and pretends to help and distracts you

You pour the pasta into the pot of boiling water before turning around to Caitlin who was sitting on the counter behind you. She pulls your head up, each of her hands on your cheeks “Your so pretty” she tells you leaning down and kissing your lips. You moan into the kiss softly before pulling away “Your gonna make me burn the food” you turn around abruptly before grabbing the sauce and pouring it into the pan with meatballs on the stove.

Caitlin grabs some of the cut tomato’s next to her and starts eating a few secretly. Hearing her chewing you turn around “CAITLIN” you gasp grabbing the bowl and moving it away from her grabby hands. She rolls her eyes “You do this every time babe” you scold her. She shrugs and jumps off the course wrapping her arms around you from behind “I’m hungry” she whines into your neck leaving wet open mouthed kisses there.

“Fuck Cait” you moan leaning your head back melting into her arms. She smirks into your neck proud of herself, she keeps going pulling your short down slightly to kiss your shoulders “Doing so good for me” she tells you before you push her off of you turning around to face her. You sigh “Caitlin I can’t cook with you here you keep distracting me” you tell her looking up at the six foot tall girl in front of you. She smiles “Yeah you know hard it is for me to focus on basketball when your pretty ass is sitting court side” she says looking down at you.

She drives you around your her passenger princess

Big spoon she loves to hold you in her arms but after a bad game all she wants is for you to hold her

Calls you baby, princess, my girl

You and Gabby always tries to dress Kate and Caitlin for events

Randomly tickles you to get what she wants

You try and push Caitlin off of you but it goes to no use as her stronger arms hold you under her “Come on just come to the gym with me this once” she begs you. Squirming under you shake your head no again “You said that last time and I was sore for like a week I don’t want to” you tell her sternly before squealing as her hands come down to tickle your stomach.

“No no no- stop- Caitlin- no please” you try to talk between laughs. She laughs at your “Just say yes and I’ll stop” she demands still laughing at you. Breathing heavily your stomach starts to feel heavy “I can’t breathe” you say breathily and she shrugs “Fine fine I’ll go I go” you go into her request. Her attack on your stops and she lays down on top of you her head in the crook of your neck “Thanks baby” she smiles kissing your neck as you grumble about it.

So protective of you

Loves seeing you where her clothes or jersey

Loves getting flowers or giving them

Posts about you on instagram

Jealousy comes so easily to her she hates when people are checking you out or random people touching you

Talks about every she’s very big on communication between you both

[munsonluhvr]

MOTH TO A FLAME (PART 2)

contents: 18+ !!! smut !! after u have been sneaking around w eddie, behind your bf's back, you gain some sense *finally.* word count - 963

✮ find part 1 to this drabble here

taglist: @ali-r3n

you’re back in eddie’s van, of course, but this time you’re on top of him in the drivers seat. one of his hand is around your neck, the other resting on your thigh, as you move fluidly up and down his cock. you can’t help but sigh softly, the pleasure overwhelming your body.

“keep going, baby,” eddie hums, watching his cock disappear into you as you move on top of him. his eyes flicker up when you lean forward to gain a better angle and your breasts are in his face. he moves the hand that rests on your thigh to cup a breast and maneuver it into his mouth. your eyes flutter closed, embracing the feeling of the tip of his tongue working on your nipple.

you can tell eddie is on the brink when his hips lift to meet your ass, pumping himself into you. his movements are quick and eager, using your body to get himself to finish. his quick pace makes the knot that forms in your abdomen more prominent, beginning to feel the orgasm that’s on the horizon. “don’t stop, keep going,” you whisper, your eyes screwed shut. in an instant, your body unwinds, releasing onto eddie’s cock. eddie pushes himself into you swiftly, with a grunt, as he fills you with himself and releases into your cunt.

you’re out of breath, your mind and body coming down from the euphoric high of an orgasm. you’re suddenly aware of your surroundings, realizing that the fog from you and Eddie’s breath that covers the front of the windows hardly distorts the activities that you and eddie engage in in the front seat - and you’re in a park, although eddie tried to hide the front of the van behind low hanging branches of nearby trees when you initially pulled into the park’s parking lot.

you slide off of eddie and into the passenger seat, once again looking around the front seat of the van to retrieve articles of your clothing. “so,” you say, a little smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. now that you aren’t in the thick of fucking eddie, your secret that you’ve been holding back comes to the front of your mind. “i have a secret.”

eddie, too, searches for his clothes, maneuvering around the van’s steering wheel to pull them on. he finds his tshirt, pulling that on too. “are you going to share your secret or did you just want to make it known that there’s something you know that i don’t?” eddie says with amusement.

“hmm,” you say, tapping your chin with you pointer finger. “i suppose i could tell you if you really want to know. i think you’ll like the secret too.”

eddie crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back to lean against the car door. “well, go on.”

“i broke up with andy,” you say, knowing that this is what eddie has been waiting to hear for weeks if not months. “i told him that we’ve been seeing each other and he, well, wasn’t very happy.”

eddie’s face is smug and you can tell he wants to say ‘i told you so’ since he knew you’d eventually break up with that sap of a basketball player and come back to him. you roll your eyes, “go ahead and say it. say, ‘i told you so, y/n.’”

eddie smirks, a snort escaping his mouth. “no, no, you just said it for me.” he leans forward now, reaching across the front of the car to grasp your forearm and pull you, gently, forward. “i’m just happy because now you’re all mine, for forever as far as i’m concerned.”

you flush, eddie’s protectiveness turning you on all over again. you know you should have broken up with andy the second you started dating him; he could never compare to eddie. andy was lame, and boring, his basketball ‘skills’ were no match to what eddie can do with his guitar. you’d find your mind wandering off while you would go out with andy, wishing it was eddie. or, sometimes, you’d just pretend andy was eddie altogether, making it easier to enjoy the time you spent with andy.

on the other hand, you hated that you cheated, knowing that behavior wasn’t who you were or something you approved of - but, you had to admit, going to andy's house, covered in eddie’s scent, your cunt filled with eddie’s seed, turned you on beyond belief. there was something, something just so sexy, about watching andy play basketball, his glance looking over to you in the stands to seek your approval, knowing that afterwards you were going to eddie’s house, letting his mouth travel from your lips to between your thighs. it was you and eddie’s little secret, and after breaking up with him, you realized how much you missed him, how it was such a mistake to break up with him, and how you’d do anything to have a secret that was just between you and he again - even if that meant cheating on andy.

the next day you walk down the school hallway, eddie’s arm around your shoulders. beside you, eddie struts as if he’s a peacock, his smugness radiating off him. although you find his claim on you amusing, and sexy, you feel safe again.

to your right, although you don’t notice, andy leans against the row of lockers that line the wall, his basketball teammate jason beside him. eddie, who is fully aware of andy’s presence, tosses a glance at andy. eddie’s smug face returns, and he mouths “sorry” to andy, offering a careless shrug. eddie doesn’t care if the whole basketball team is planning to seek revenge on him; he’s just glad to have his girl back.

[almondamaretto]

crossfaded

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: pure brain rot of admiring and longing for matt… basically mindless self indulgence

warnings: weed, stoner!triplets, suggestive at the end

my first work !!

✄┈┈┈┈

“Yo, want some?” You’re pulled from your thoughts by Chris mumbling quietly and nudging your shoulder, a tightly rolled joint sitting loosely between his fingers. A trail of smoke from the end of the joint swirls throughout the dimly lighted room, painting the air with hazy coils.

You shake your head with a kind smile, “m’not in the mood, thank you, though” you say sweetly. He furrows his brows and purses his lips, confusion contorting his features, before shrugging his shoulders and passing it off to Nick who was sat to his right. 

Music played lowly from your phone, burning up from both the bluetooth speaker and charger it was connected to, both of which Chris opposed your possession of. Your oversized shirt slightly slips off your left shoulder as you stare down at your phone sitting atop your lap, legs crossed tightly underneath you, knees protesting in dull aches.

Various friends talk in scattered conversations, 6 people sitting in a poorly configured circle, a space left open for Matt who had just left to retrieve the food delivery.

Half a minute felt like an eternity that he was gone, ease filling your body as you watch him emerge from the staircase, a large bag of Wing Stop in his hands.

It’s crazy how much you miss him when he isn’t with you. How much you crave him when he is gone. He wasn’t even yours, so why did it feel like he was?

The joint is passed to him almost immediately as he sat down, brown paper bag placed in the center of everyone, greedy hands reaching in to take the flavor-coated wings. Your hands stay situated to yourself, eyes drifting over to Matt, head tilted up as he pulled smoke into his lungs, glancing over at you before exhaling.

He smirks and holds the drug out to you. “Nah bro she’s not-” Chris starts, but cuts himself off as you take the rolled paper from Matt’s grasp, fingers grazing over his as you do so.

Nick and Chris alike stared in skeptical confusion as you mirror Matt’s previous actions, his gaze never leaving you and his smile never leaving his face.

Your eyes close as you let the psychoactive drug take action, enjoying the dizzying feeling in your head. Opening your eyes, you’re met with Matt’s intense gaze, lips darting out over his still-smiling lips. Seconds pass.

“Don’t babysit” Chris whines and nudges you again. He gratefully takes the joint from your fingers, taking his much desired hit and blowing smoke into your face as he spoke; “what happened to ‘not in the mood’?” he grins, recalling your almost apparent feelings for his brother.

You furrow your brows and wave your hand in front of your face, sleeves doing circles around your wrist, brackets clinking against each other. “I’m in the mood now” you shrug you shoulders, quickly glancing over to Matt whose eyes are still fixated on you, cheeks heating up under his stare.

“Yeah, right.”

Four more circles are completed, the last one ending with you inhaling the last of the joint into your lungs, searching for some place to put it out. As you exhale, Matt holds his hand out offering to take it from you. Latching onto the base, he takes a hold of it, licking his thumb and pointer finger, pinching the end to snuff it out. He winced as he did so, tossing it in the now empty Wing Stop bag.

In your peripheral you can see Chris already lighting another preroll, the flick of an almost dead lighter that was most definitely yours catching your attention.

However, you could hardly keep your eyes off the man sat to your left, so close yet so far.

Lounging back comfortably on the plush off-white couch, arms crossed over his chest, his legs were spread out perfectly—just the right amount of room to fit someone of your size.

Practically shaking your head to rid yourself of your thoughts, you try to tune into the conversation being had right now.

“This is literally just a plain wing, like they didn’t put shit on here” Nick voices, but his voice was so distant, you were already back to ogling Matt. His tongue pushing into his cheek while he smiles and nods, hair tossed messily.

His chest lifts up and down slowly as he breathes in and out his tattooed arm flexing and relaxing as he moves his hand underneath his shirt, running his painted nails over the area just under his sweatpants band.

You catch sight of the top of his boxers as he pulls his hand away, shirt getting caught on his index finger’s ring, leaving a sliver of skin exposed to the hazy air.

His earrings perfectly reflect the lamp a few feet away, sending flashes of light into your vision. You blink slowly, eyes refocusing each time you expose them to the sultry lighting of the living room. Montell Fish hums lowly through the speaker making the one-sided moment all the more intimate.

Matt felt your eyes on him, trailing up and down his figure, staring at him with open endearment. Turning his head to you, he puts all his focus onto you—that’s what you were craving, wasn’t it?

He stares into your droopy eyes, watching as you notice his gaze on you. You perk up slightly, face flushing as you slowly flutter your eyes at him “do I have something on my face?” He jokes out, wetting his lips once more.

You pull your lips in between your teeth and shake your head sheepishly, sinking more into the couch and looking away from him. “Well don’t look away now, wanna see your pretty face” he drew out, voice low and hoarse pulling the hem of your sock with his index, letting it snap back into place. Your head snaps back over to him, the high making your head spin.

You focus again on him, noticing how his eyes were just as droopy as yours. He grabs onto the second joint of the night and takes a quick hit, staring at you as he lifts his fingers up to your face, placing the filter in between your lips.

Sucking the smoke into your mouth, you fold under his gaze. The way he looks at you was more intoxicating than the strongest drug, giving you a high you by simply being present. You grab the joint, letting his hand drop and quickly handing it to Chris, refusing to break eye contact.

Matt’s hand snakes around your back, pulling you into him and watching as you nuzzle into him. His scent invades your senses, sending waves over your already sensitive nerves. His left hand falls onto your thigh that was sprawled out over his lap, you glance up at him.

He watched your lashes flick up and down as you slowly trailed your eyes between his eyes and lips, crossfaded off of him and the contents of the joint still being passed around. His head dips, nose brushing against your cheek eliciting goosebumps to slowly crawl up your limbs and neck. He presses a chaste kiss to the area just under your ear, smiling as you grip his shirt.

Your hand gently rakes through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp, pulling a sigh from him—you barely even notice the action, however it seems to have a strong effect on him. He grips your hands and pulls both you and himself up abruptly.

He watched you as you nearly topple over onto the coffee table, hands stabilizing you by your hips.

The rest of the group is quickly pulled from their conversation, looking at you in confusion.

“Congrats, chris, you can play music now.” Was all he said before tugging on your hand, placing his hand on your lower back and directing you to his room.

He just barely closes the door before he pulls you into him, hands gripping roughly onto your hips as you collide into him, lips hovering over each other. You were both breathing heavily as you continued to stare into each other’s eyes

“Need you so bad” he mumbles out, holding himself back from making any further advances without some type of conformation from you; “y’look so pretty right now.”

“m’all yours, Matt”

[sugrhigh]

HOTBOX - ( m.s )

part two

summary- matt finally decides to smoke with his best friends for the first time, and he finds that it’s impossible to keep his eyes off of you

warnings- drug use, swearing, tiny bit suggestive

bff!matt x fem!reader

a/n: WOOOO finally a real piece of writing! i hope u guys enjoy. will possibly do a part two but idk, so if you have requests just ask!

he can’t stop drumming his fingers against the wheel as he steers the car along, desperately trying to relax a little bit and focus on the music that’s blaring through the speakers.

chris sits beside him in the passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard as you guys speed toward your destination. he can hear you and nate conversing in the back, practically shouting at each other over the song.

the waterfront comes into view through his windshield a moment later, moonlight shimmering against the glassy surface. matt takes the next left, swerving across both lanes of traffic to pull into the deserted lot.

there’s nobody on the beach of course, considering it’s almost midnight in the middle of november. he throws the car into park and lowers the volume, shifting in his seat so he can actually see everyone.

“i think that’s the fastest i’ve ever seen you drive, grandpa.” you tease him, unbuckling so you can lean forward in your seat.

he rolls his eyes, though he never actually minds it when you’re the one chirping at him.

“you’re gonna wish it was me once nate gets behind the wheel, i promise.”

“wow, so i volunteer to stay sober and this is the thanks i get?” his friend asks, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

“thank you nate.” you reply in a sing-song voice.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

matt watches as you claw through your bag, finally digging out a small blue pouch after a few more seconds of searching.

the moment you unzip it, the all-too familiar smell of weed fills the interior of the car. chris cheers when he sees you pull out a perfectly packed joint, holding it in between your middle and pointer finger with precision.

“you know, it’s really upsetting that you can roll better than me.” nate shakes his head with a sigh.

“aw, you gonna cry about it?” you puff your bottom lip out at him.

“i swear i’ll fucking walk home and leave you guys stranded.”

“sure you will. hold this.” you pass the joint to him before retrieving the lighter.

matt tries to play down the smile that’s beginning to take over his face as you hold it in your palm. he got that one for you on your last birthday. it’s a silver zippo lighter with a big winding dragon engraved on the side.

it was kind of a gag gift just because he knows how much you smoke, but you ended up genuinely loving it way more than he had ever expected.

chris smacks him in the arm gently, and he finally tears his eyes away from you.

“you sure you want to?” his brother double checks, though he doesn’t do a very good job of containing his obvious excitement.

“yup.” matt replies simply, his gaze darting in your direction again.

he’s never once felt pressured to smoke before, but he’s always been a little curious. he’s hung out with the three of you while you’re all stoned enough times to realize that he at least wants to try it.

and sure, maybe a tiny part of him is doing this because he wants to impress you. but what’s the harm in that?

“i’ll start her off, but then it’s coming your way matty b.” you nod at him with a smile, taking the joint back from nate.

his heart is already pounding and all you did was look at him.

you put the filter between your lips and spark his lighter, holding the flame to the end. he watches it burn as you inhale, trying to figure out exactly how he’s supposed to do this when it’s his turn.

you blow the smoke over your shoulder, careful not to do it in anyone’s face. no cough. matt doesn’t even see you flinch.

you take one more quick drag, and he’s already entranced by your fluid movements.

then you stretch your hand out, offering him the next hit as you silently exhale once again. it’s impossible for him to ignore the way he fumbles with your hand before he finally pinches it between his fingers.

it feels awkward, like he’s somehow already doing it wrong.

“just put your lips on it, suck in, not for long though because that’s real shit. then hold it in your throat, inhale it, exhale it.” you instruct him, and his mouth is already dry from the way you’re talking.

there’s something about the commanding edge to your voice that’s driving him crazy. he kind of likes that you’re the know-it-all, the one in control.

“sounds dirty, but you get the point.” chris states with a shrug.

yeah, sounds fucking dirty.

“you got this, don’t even think about it too much.” nate adds encouragingly.

matt bites the bullet, curling his lips around the end and inhaling. he definitely feels the smoke fill his lungs, so he pulls the joint away quickly and practically tosses it to chris.

“exhale, exhale.” you instruct, and he does so all at once.

it fogs up the car, smoke flying back up in his face instantly. then he feels it. the burning in his throat. the desperate need to cough.

he sputters, and chris is already motioning to one of the waters in the cup holder.

“keep holding your breath and drink that.”

he tries to do as he’s told, but it’s impossible to hold it in. he lets out a loud hacking cough. then another, and another. matt tries to sip on the water in between them, though it’s hard.

you rub his arm gently as the cough attack begins to die down, and the feeling of your fingernails scratching him lightly through his sweatshirt almost makes him shiver.

“i personally like a good cough everyone once in a while. humbles me.” you joke, removing your hand and sitting back in your seat once you’re sure he’s alright.

he misses your touch immediately, and it’s embarrassing.

chris has been keeping it lit, so he passes it back to you once you’re ready. matt is left out for a moment, and he doesn’t mind the brief break.

the music stays on in the background, a curated playlist of stuff that you all like. he sees you bopping your head along to baby keem, and you turn to him with the joint still burning between your lips.

“you want more?” you say as the smoke curls around your face.

in many ways.

matt nods and reaches to grab it from you, trying to be careful where he positions his fingers. he repeats his actions from earlier, breathing out slowly this time.

he still coughs quite a bit, but it’s not nearly as bad. the high is definitely rushing straight to his head, and it makes him feel like a balloon full of helium.

his brother guides the joint out of his hand gently. even he wheezes a bit as he takes his fair share, which makes matt feel better.

“how do you feel bro?” nathan asks him through the haze that’s filled the car.

“good. i feel good.” that’s all he can think to say.

and it is nice. everything seems just a little bit lighter. his body feels…loose. matt blinks, and he swears he sees stars behind his eyelids.

you reach up to open the sunroof, letting some fresh air into the car. there’s not a cloud in the sky tonight, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore calms him.

“one more baby hit, then you’re done.” you pass it to him for the last rotation.

“so bossy.” matt smirks at you, and there’s a humorous glint in your eyes as you watch him take a drag.

he tries impossibly hard to make it look cool, despite almost hacking up a lung and choking on his water. you laugh, but matt somehow understands that you’re not making fun of him by doing so.

chris snatches it from of his hand. “gimme that, it’s almost out.”

it’s like a game of ping pong as matt watches the two of you bounce back and forth, hit after hit. the joint dwindles and finally dies a minute later. you toss the burnt remains into a dunkin bag from god knows how long ago before slipping the lighter back into the pouch.

“alright, matt. time for you to switch with me big boy.” nathan reminds him, turning to open his car door.

matt follows his lead. his body feels like it’s three feet behind his brain, like his consciousness is just a few seconds faster. his legs wobble as his feet hit the ground, but he manages to steady himself, hand against the car as he moves.

nate walks him to the door just in case, and matt stumbles into his new home in the back, laughing at himself under his breath. you help him sit upright in the middle seat, reaching across his body to get to the belt.

“lift your arm.” you tell him, and even though he doesn’t want to, he listens.

you pull the buckle around and click it into place so he’s properly strapped in, doing it for him like he’s a toddler or something.

this is an action he’d normally protest, but he’s solely focused on how close together you are. he can feel the heat radiating from your body as your shoulder presses against his, knees knocking together as he gets comfortable.

“how are you doing? everything okay?” you ask lowly, looking up at him through those long lashes.

he can see the red tinging your eyes, and his own feel droopy as he continues to stare. matt just can’t help it. you look so gorgeous, somehow even more so when you’re both faded.

“cat got your tongue?” you joke, head tilted back to rest against the seat as nate puts the car in reverse.

“you’re pretty.” it slips out before he can stop it, and yet he’s too high to care.

your eyes go a little wide, and your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. he wants to kiss you so bad, to get rid of the centimeters of space between you and just press his mouth to yours.

“and you’re stoned.” you smile a bit and look away, trying to play it off.

“but i’m serious.” he doubles down, and you glance at him once more with those fucking bambi eyes.

you shake your head and place your hand on his thigh. “i promise you’re not.”

it ignites a fire in his stomach, one that won’t die down. he wants to move his hips, to feel some sort of friction against your palm. but he holds still, even despite how much he needs you.

“you don't know me.” matt hears his words slur together slightly as he speaks.

“i definitely do.” you argue.

“fine, but you can’t possibly guess what’s going on in my head.”

matt’s still not sure where any of this is coming from, or why he’s saying it to you now, but the word vomit won’t stop.

you shrug, squeezing his thigh lightly. he shifts a little bit, trying not to get too worked up over the pressure.

“i guess that’s true. so what are you thinking?”

matt glances up front at his brother and his best friend, and he knows neither of them are paying attention to the two of you. they’re too busy singing piña colada by yung pinch to care.

he hears you hum a little bit of the chorus under your breath as you wait for his response.

“i’m thinking about you.” he finally admits, leaning over so he can say it directly into your ear.

he can smell your rose shampoo, the fading hints of flowery perfume on your skin. it’s intoxicating, being near you like this.

you move your hand off his leg to shove his chest playfully. “shut up.”

the city blurs by as nate continues to drive, and matt admires the way the light from the street lamps dance across your face.

“why don’t you believe me?” he mumbles, barely audible over the combination of the breeze and the music.

“because you’re high as a kite, i can see it written all over your face.”

“doesn’t mean i’m lying.”

you study his face like you’re trying to find the truth in it. he can’t help but grin, because you’re so fucking clueless, and it makes you smile right back.

“touché.”

[tparker48]

Request for anonymous

"Let's see..add a few fine tuning on the stitches, tighten up the bells…" Merkeo muttered as he faced his computer desk, threading a needle through his jester suit. "Just a little bit of tugging and..There!”

He took a step back to admire his handy work. The black and red spandex glistened beneath his lamp, slumping from the miniature desk to the wooden board of the one beneath. It took him weeks to find a suit customizable, he could hardly count the shops he visited that sold suits for people his size. He took the suit from the desk, reminiscing its silky texture as it glided between his fingertips.

"Wait until the the peeps get a load of this, I can already tell this DnD session will be-"

A beep rang from the magnet on the front door, a hard thud striking the panel as a spiked cleat forced it to the wall. "Hey nerd! Guess who's home!" A voice boomed as the rest of their body lowered into the frame, the metal borders of the door screaming as they made their way passed. "I swear this damn door needs an adjustment. Hey nerd! Nerd!"

"I'm right here, Fervin!" Merkeo shouted, rubbing his ears from the vibrations in his ear drums. "Must you shout so loud? We're in a dormitory."

"What can I say? when I make an entrance, I make an entrance."

He slumped his duffel bag from his shoulder, tossing it against the wall as its weight sent a pulse through the floor. Merkel watched as his form strolled closer, like a looming storm cloud about to pour upon a landscape. The computer chair rushed back, Fervin's hide forcing the cushion down as it raced eagerly to support him.

He crossed his arms behind his back. "Oh it feels good to be out of that lecture room. The professor really cracked down on that essay, even double checked to ensure it was mine. Guess some pencil necks can’t handle such great genius."

"You mean my work. My whole sleep schedule’s out of whack because of your pestering."

the desk shook as spikes prodded upon the table. Merkel nearly yelped at its prickling touch, his hands casting to the air. "And it worked like a charm." He kicked his other foot upon the table. But he paused as he gazed at the slim ware hanging from his foot. “Huh, what are those? pajamas?”

The footwear wagged as Merkeo raced to retrieve his suit, cautiously eying the coned steel as they swiped from side to side. “If you must know, It’s my jester suit. And I would very much like it without holes for DnD.”

"That nerd shit? Pfft, lame. You can’t expect to get babes with a thing like that. Now that spring break party tonight, that’s where it’s really at. And guess who’s cohost? This guy!”

Merkeo managed to grab ahold of his suit, sliding it from the cold pedestal as he tumbled back to the desk. "You? Cohost? I don’t think they chose wisely on that."

“Cute, can’t be surprised to hear that from a bookworm. But If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to party.” He said. “The drinks, the babes, I can already imagine it now. And by the end of the night, I’m gonna bang me a cheerleader."

He raised his palms to the air, his fingers swaying to trace an hourglass shape. His hips slowly began to thrust, his junk pushing through from its pouch as it slithered to the leg hole of his shorts. Merkeo caught a glimpse as the phallus peeked out, shielding his eyes as his face flushed red.

"Ay Ay! TMI man, I don't want to see all that!"

"Aww is the nerd getting flustered?" His legs stretching over the desk, the hefty package between his legs gyrating against the wooden furniture. "I bet you wish you could be all over this."

"I’d rather do quizzes than be that close to you." he replied, "Will you put that away already?!"

"Hah, that's what I like about you nerds, always so squeamish." he slid his waist back to the chair, groping at the bulky outline. "Luckily for you, this bad boy has its eyes set on the ladies tonight. It can't waste time on small fries like you. Though it might give that thin noodle of yours some pointers."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"Peh, suit yourself."

He grabbed a few beer bottles, hoisting them over his broad shoulders as he walked out of the room. Merkeo sighed, taking back to his suit as he checked for punctured points. Aside from dust particles, the fabric was unscaved. Thank goodness, he didn't know what he’d do if it became damaged.

He returned to his desk to tend to the rest of his props, organizing the board and creatures he was ready to unleash upon his members. Another hour ticked by in a flash, his notes piling over one another from his practice sessions. He yawned as he checked the clock on the wall, a quarter past 7:00 PM.

“Time for a break.” he leaned into his chair.

He took to his computer as he looked into his group chat for the group. Many online were already talking about the upcoming session, sharing new lores while roleplaying in their own channels. What a treat it was to indulge in fantasy, he thought, may he could give them a taste of the jester magic. He reached for his cards to select to share, but paused as he eyed his costume. He eyed the group chat as many shared their costumes, it sent an urge through his body, his fingers wiggling at the temptation of trying it on. He didn’t want to spoil the magic with a picture, but to send a picture of their grad DM, it may just make them excited, if not himself.

“Oh.. why not, I still have to make sure it fits anyway.”

He picked up the costume as he held it on his shoulder, stripping himself as the cool conditioning washed over him like a wave. He slipped his limbs inside, his hairs standing on end as they brushed against the elastic spandex. He soon put on his Cap n Bells as they dangled from the sides of his head, its little chimes sending a giggle from inside as he tapped at the round spheres.

“I think a quick selfie might do the trick. ‘The crowned jester and his future pawns’. Oo, that kinda has a ring to it.

He hovered his phone to get a better angle for himself, shifting the filter as sparkles boarded the frame. But the ground shook beneath as he caught himself, the water bottle on the desk rippling. An earthquake? It can’t be, the tectonic plate wasn’t near the university. Heavy thumps slowly overwhelmed the silent rumbles, traveling through the walls before it stopped at the front door.

The magnet chimed, but the handle didn’t turn as grumbling lingered behind it. The magnet reactivated, and pounds struck the door, as if a wild beast was trying to force its way in. Merkeo eyed the door as its pounds became aggressive, the green lighting of the magnet flickering before another strike snuffed out its light. The door slammed open, and wallowing filled the room.

Fervin loomed inside as he entered. One of his shoes were missing, and his "Damn it all..who do they think I am?! I'm a fuckin'.. Football player!"

His weight leaned as his feet stomped forward, like a drunk T-rex trying to run as he staggered to couch. He tripped over his own feet as he hurled toward the cushion, knocking the couch from its sliders as his head wedged into the soft gaps.

Merkeo used the railing in the room to make it over to the couch, standing upon the armchair. "The hell happened to you?"

"It's horrible..I go all that way to seek her out..An.. the hag blue balled me. Me!" He groaned into the cushions, scraping from its soft crevice. “You know how many want to..to.. Fuck me?!"

Fervin turned his head, his roaring breath flowing out like a dragon. Merkeo fanned the air as the smell of alcohol polluted the once clean air, holding the collar of his suit over his mouth to deter himself from passing out.

“You went and got yourself again! Didn’t you learn from the last party you went to.”

“Screw you!.. I don’t take orders from you! Why I..I” tears slowly sleeping through his eyes, a whimper escaping. “Damn it all..why do they have to make it so hard?”

Merkeo palmed himself. He must’ve drank too much if he’s already at his wallowing state. He sighed before hopping to the side of the lughead's face, caressing his cheek as its warmth filled his palm. "Hey now..you. There's no need to fuss about one girl." He said to him, wincing at the drool wetting his pants. "There's many out there in the sea, and I'm sure there's some out there waiting for him."

"Yeah right!" He blurted, knocking Merkeo onto his butt. " That's not gonna solve my aching cock right now!"

Fervin dug a finger through his waistband, the jock’s musk mixing with the tainted air as flesh squeaked against the sofa’s rubbery surface. The forearm above Steamrolled Merkeo as it traversed toward the bulging phallus, answering its wet call as his stubby fingers pampered its side. It throbbed it wedged itself between the crevice of the cushions, the jock’s hips flexing as he shuttered.

“Oh Yeah..that’s the stuff.” He muttered, his hips pumping into the couch.

"Dude! Not in the living room! Do that somewhere else."

"Sue me..I'm too pissed and horny to move."

His strokes increased as his hips moved like a wave, the wet slap of flesh overwhelming the silence in the room. Merkeo raced to comfort his ears as he moved to a cubard, searching through his supplies. He flipped over towels stashed in the corner, and found a plastic bottle of water sticking out from its packet. He wrapped his arms around the slender bottle and dragged it out, heaving it toward his drunken roommate on the couch.

“Alright, let’s get you sober so you don’t break the wall again?” Merkeo said.

Fervin grumbled as his knees slumped beneath him, thrusting him upward as his wait trailed backwards. Merkeo eyed cautiously at his blundering, backtracking as the stumbling feet trailed closer.

“I didn’t say move!” he yelped, rolling the bottle the opposite way.

But he wasn’t fast enough to outrun Fervin, his feet kicking in front of the other as he tilted like a chopped tree. The floor darkened before a wall of mass crashed at his back, burly arms planting the ground with a thunderous thump.

“That lady’s cheeks were cold… I’m barely s..satisfied.” He pawed the ground. “I need more!”

“Well you’re not getting one when you're on top of me! Now get off!”

His glassy eyes opened as he glared at him. "Piss off, man! I don’t need your..” he paused as he stared at the small roommate, his eyes blinking before they widened.

Merkeo met his gaze, looking at the marbled floor before looking back. "What?"

"Hey..where’d this toy come? Ho..How long have you been there?"

“Toy?" He blinked, tugging at his suit. "No, this is my suit, remember?"

"And it talks!..oh man..This must be my lucky day.”

"I have no idea what you're talking about. All that booze has gotten to your head. Why don't you go lay down and-" A palm wrapped around his body, plucking him from underneath. "Hey!"

His hand gripped like a vice, Fervin hauling him away as he returned to the couch with a drunken waltz. He was hurled into the closed fist as his back met with the soft cushion. He strung themselves to to the floor, a signal that rushed to the titanic cock as it pointed from his body. Merkeo pounded a hand at the sides of the jock’s fingers, the other covering his nose as the smell of rubber and jizz invaded his nostrils.

The phallus loomed closer, stamping at the gap between the middle fingers as it struck his chest. "A perfect fit..awesome." He slurred beneath his breath, his palms lifting as Merkeo plunged into the cavern of the couch, the bulbous head stamping his chin as it ensnared between his walls.

As the cock reached the bottom of the gap, it was a catalyst for Fervin’s arousal as hips began to pump. Flesh skidded against the silky suit, the phallus ramming into a pocket above Merkeo as the little bells were swallowed by the slit. Its warmth was overwhelming, his nostrils filling with a sour aroma as it stuck to his suit like cologne..

Merkeo raised his arms to shield himself. "Wait!…I'm not!.."

"Just a little more..a little more."

Fervin doubled his efforts as his hips twisted in place. The sweat that once dried between the cushions humidified as it loosened its restraints upon the tender skin, joined by the drizzling pre as it lathered into his roommate’s skin like lotion. The phallus scooped higher as it smashed Merkeo’s defense, the puffed edges moving like a wave as it stamped at his face.

He was stamped firmly as seed dressed his head, but unsatisfied puffs echoed above, a palm dragging him from underneath the bulging member. "Nrgh..that's not enough!" Fervin slurred from his lips. "How are you going to be a toy if you can't even get me off?"

"That's because I'm not a toy you lughead!"

His eyes squinted, eying the little roommates as strands of his own pre dripped to the couch. "Wha?..sure you are..I'm looking right at you." His fingers stamped across his body, the lonely bell on his right tuft jangling at his prods. "You look like a toy..feel like a toy. You are one…I'm just not using it right."

Gravity shifted as the palm tilted on its side, hovering over the hairy crotch. His other pinched eagerly at the drooling slit, pinching it open as its seed flowed down its underbelly like lava.

"What..what are you doing? No, hell no! You're not putting' me in there!"

"You better make this work..toy!"

"I told you I'm not a-!" his stomach dropped as the palm rushed toward the cock, a wet belch erupting from the cream filled phallus as it opened wide. Murky white fluid filled his vision as the orifice encircled his head. His shouts muffled from the bulging head, his palms slipping from the sides of phallus

Fervin's cock throbbed as it suckled at its meal. "Yeah…yeah that's the stuff. Get..right in there."

The palm loosed as fingers climbed over his feet, feeding more of Merkeo inside as its underbelly bulged with his body. With a giddish chuckle, he corkscrewed the rest of his feet inside as the slit closed. Wads of pre rushed into his body as it blinded him of the trip ahead, the muscular tube getting thickening as a suction pulled at his body.

A mere lump cast itself upon the jock's shaft, pulse after pulse dragging him down as it squeezed into the base of the shaft and into his prostate. More seed flooded the tender bean as the valve closed behind him, leaving him at the mercy of the muscular waves as it tenderized his body. He struggled to hold them back, his limbs sinking into their surface as he tried to find a way out. Pressure tugged at his feet, yanking him into the source of the musky fluid as he was dragged through the labyrinth swirling in the Jock's waist.

He held his breath as he was dragged through its loops, before he found him at its ridge as he slid through a long tube. He was deposited inside an enclosed sac, the walls forcing him to lay straight as if he were in an airtight compartment.

"Damn it Fervin, this has gotten way too far!!" he scowled, Worming himself toward the valve that winked out of reach, taunting at his predicament before it vanished behind a fold of seed coated flesh.

His calls were left unanswered, drowned out by the jock's beastly grunts as it reverberated through the walls.

wet slaps came from outside, jostling the testicle as if it were a fish bag. "That's the job..right there!" Fervin huffed louder.

The jock roared as the walls shrank around Merkeo’s body, the valve above him slurping the pool from the chamber as climbed through the tubes. The ceiling spasmed as spurts muffled the walls, Merkeo took the chance to breathe, but shriveled as his lungs filled with the ripe aroma of salt and bodily fluids. He squirmed along the walls to follow the fluid out, but his fingers wouldn't register as the stiff folds pucker in place.

Droplets of the lukewarm substance dripped at his back, and he groaned. "There, you had your little release. Now get me out of this thing!" He paused to hear the outside, the heavy wet thumps shaking the chamber as he swayed in place. "Hey! Are you listening?"

"Oh man..you are a good toy." He muttered, his voice distorted as if he were a broken speaker. "Ah really…good one."

"Yeah yeah, great, now get me out!"

Fervin’s words slowed as they traveled through his body. Gravity flicked as a heavy mass compressed the ceiling. The layer of flesh surrounding the testicle squashed at his torso.. The jock's breath grew heavy, rattling the muscles like rusted gears. He's kidding, he thought to himself, he sends him down his cock and now he's taking a snooze?

"You’re not sleeping with me in here!." He shouted. "Wake your ass up!"

He rattled the sac like an ape in a cage, thrashing himself in the compressed space to disrupt Fervin’s sound slumber. It was only when his knees cushioned into the round testicle did he get a reaction, the jock's body springing to life as a moan howled through the environment. Gravity shifted again, and the flesh barricading the orb pinned him down as the round lump cushioned his face.

He groaned as it tucked him against the corner wall, singing its whale songs of gurgles and churns to its captive audience. "Damn it.."

The hours ticked by since the events of that evening. Fervin tossed in his slumber, snarling from his nostrils as he rocked over the arms of the sofa. He stretched his limbs to scratch himself, but fell backwards as gravity pulled him to the floor. Sunlight erupted from the winder, burning into his eyes like a flashbang as he groggily got up.

He picked himself up from the floor, his balance tumbling to the cushion as he caught himself.. "Fuck what a night, all that partying really tired me out.." He scratched absently at his crotch, warm skin sticking to his fingers as he cocked it back, His barreled cock resting between his legs. “Where the fuck did my shorts go?..”

He stretched before getting up from the couch, giving one last yawn as he fetched a protein shake from the fridge. He looked at his roommates' things, his props scattered along the tabletop as his cotton bed was toppled from the windowsill. The nerd’s already gone, he thought, guess he decided to leave early for spring break. That’s good, he didn’t have to worry about underwear then. He drank at his shake and moved onto his side of the room, kicking his suitcase between his legs. He crumpled his clothes, tossing them inside as a hill slowly formed.

He scratched at himself once more, reminiscing at his fingers touch as his nut flexed over them. But he squinted as he gazed at the round sphere. Something was different about them, his right testicle sagged lower than the other. He fondled beneath its weight as his cock throbbed. It might just be his imagination, he did hold a lot of his seed in there last evening.

"I’m sorry big boy, I got too drunk to enjoy you properly.” He massaged his shaft. “But I bet you got plenty of rest after you had your fun."

"Absolutely not?"

He blinked at the sudden voice, looking at his Cock. He poked at its pudgy surface for a response, but it only throbbed. "Heh..hehe, I must have had way too many shots last night. Thought I just heard my cock talking."

"Not the cock you idiot!" The voice echoed again.

He cocked a brow as he stared at his member, movement rising beneath the sagging right testicle. He scooped his sac into his palm, pinching at the active orb as he rotated it. A squirming lump curled along its edge, a soft imprint appearing before a flex pulled it down.

His palm flung from his ball, letting them swing between his legs as his heart pounded. "What the hell did I drink last night?! My ball's coming alive!"

"No, It's me! Merkeo!"

"Merkeo?" He paused, looking back at the wiggling lump. He poked at its side, a pathetic whimper escaping from it. "It is you, nerd! The hell are you doing in my balls!"

"Take a guess! You shoved me in here on another one of your drunk sprees."

"Drunk spree? I don't know what the hell you're talking about." He said. “As far as I can remember I was alone..then again, there was this talking toy. Don’t remember much but it kept squawking about not being a..toy. Huh, well that explains all the whining.”

“You fucked me into the couch.”

He groaned upon the nerd’s response "Yeah well..you should’ve been more careful. It’s not my fault you’re in there.”

“It literally is!"

"Potato, Potato."

He moved toward the glass mirror along the wall, reaching , putting on his underwear as he got dressed. He pulled the back as the thin fabric saddled his glutes, letting his cock spill over the pouch as he took to his suitcase.

His nuts jangled together like wind chimes, crashing into his thighs. "What are you doing now?"

"What do you think I’m doing? I’m packing for the weekend. I’ve got shit to do back at home, and since you're stuck with me, you'll just have to tag along until we get back."

"What?! I'm not staying in here! DnD is this weekend!" Merkel said, pressure climbed through his epididymis to the valve connecting to the rest of the cock. The right nut sway passively, flexing as the sensation of fingers prodded at the tight folds. "Gotta get..out of this thing!"

The jock snorted at the attempt. "Oh boy, aren't you nerds supposed to be smart or something? My cock doesn't take orders from nerds, it listens to one that has the oomph to shake it. And that's yours truly."

"Then get on with it already."

"You’d love that wouldn’t you? To see yourself ejected from a real cock." he fondled his nuts between his fingers. "Unfortunately I’m still spent. It's gonna be a long while before these babies are ready for another round."

“And how long would that take.”

“Hell if I know, 3 hours or so.” “Three hours?!”

“Yup, so might as well get comfy until I fetch for you.”

He raised his cock over the flap, sealing it inside the pouch as he tied his shorts. He reeled his luggage into the hallway, following the narrow passageway toward the elevator in the crossway. Movement shifted as Merke tried to adjust in the compact space, the bulk of Fervin’s nuts dog piling his lump as it jostled in the pouch of his jockstrap. That nerd really knows how to get under his skin. Literally. Though he'll give him one thing, it felt good to have his balls stimulated, like a hot girl playing with his balls. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside. As they closed, he groped at his crotch, humping at the air.

He picked up a soft whimper from beneath the fabric, pressure building at his testicle as soft kneads rested upon it. He still didn’t know how to feel above having the nerd in there,but at least he’ll help filling him up back home..

The ride with Fervin was a long and bumpy trip. Every passing moment was filled with flesh jumbling Merkeo around, marinating him in the little puddle that climbed at his ankles as the testicular wall shriveled and compressed. He didn't know how far they traveled, the outside was too muffled to depth the surrounding environment except for the purrs of jock’s vehicle. After another eternity of stewing in the jock's balls, inertia pulled ahead as his face was wrapped in a sheet of muscle.

His steps boomed as a door creaked open, the sound of a zipper being undone as the sac rolled on its side. "Ah, it's good to be back home." Fervin’s voice distorted through the walls..

Merkeo padded at the soft tissue to get the jock's attention, the testicle spooning into his torso. His palms were pinned by the protruding bulge, only managing to use his ankles as he bucked weakly as the ridge of the testicle.

A heavy thud struck the balls, the soft curvature of fingers pressing at his back. "Eh? oh yeah, forgot you were in there."

Not a surprise. "It's been hours since I've been here. Can you get me out now?"

“I told you that’s not how my nuts work, nerd. They need the energy to get them started.”

“You said you needed three hours!”

Fervin laughed heartily. “I said It’d take me three hours to fill them, I never said I’d be ready to release it.”

The sac shook as its contents plonked around, the seed secreting from the wall spreading out as they washed over Merkeo’s body. His stomach dropped as the fingers let go, the nuts beginning to sway as steps boomed outside. A soft pressure cushion at the walls, tight leather scrunching beneath him.

“Been a while since I checked on the game” Fervin said. “I wonder if my K/D is still intact.”

The jock’s weight shifted as the sac tilted, forcing Merkeo to spoon beneath the rough lump as seed polled at his shoulders. Fervin's voice could be heard beyond the walls, blurting comments as a controller clunked high above. His obnoxious bantering went on for another hour, his balls rocking periodically as a finger scratched at the testicular layer. Merkeo tried again to get him to answer, splashing at the pool of seed that splashed beneath his chin. But he only received a brush from one of the thighs, followed by cursing as he shouted at someone in the game.

Outside the sun loomed past the hill in the window, the crimson sky slowly turning blue as the moon rose from the horizon. Merkeo tilted his neck as he faced the quivering sphincter above, counting its flexes as seed drooled from its lips. It’s all he could do, with his limbs bathed into the milky pool as the muscle flexed in place.

“Fuck yeah!” Fervin’s voice blurted,the testicles thrusting forward before snagged. “Hope you like that grenade yas wuss! That’ll teach ya to steal my kill!”

“Fervin!” Merkeo called out, thrashing against the tender wall. “Fervin!”

The chamber shifted, pressure applying to his back. “What now nerd?”

“Are you ready yet? It’s getting kind of full in here.”

“Hmm..They are kinda heavy…” the pressure behind him pushed at his body, a thrust sending a wave over the little roommate. “And I’m already pumped as it is, why not.”

“Yes! Finally!”

A rumble boomed above, a bubbling torrent shaking the walls as pressure melted behind him. “Shit, I forgot all about dinner. Can’t wank one out on an empty stomach.”

Merkeo swayed as Fervin traversed the household, his steps hardening as it traveled through his body. Wrappers muffled from above as the jock giggled to himself, followed by a meaty crunch as he chewed on his food. He listened to symphony of crumpled wrappers and munching for moments, and still he had yet finished his feast. The fluid climbed higher, dosing his ears as if they dipping sauce.

The walls flexed, and he raced to force them back. “It's getting a little cramped in here, are you ready to release yet?” “Eh? Release what?”

“Your seed!”

“Oh yeah yeah, I’ll get right on it. Just..” an announcer muffled from outside, followed by bells as cheer muttered in the background. “Oo, the playoffs! I forgot that aired today.” He walked over as the sounds came closer, springs creaking beneath him.

“Wait a second, get me out first.”

“Don’t sweat it, it won’t be long. I’ll have you out by halftime, jock’s promise.”

Merkeo groaned at the response, working his limbs close to deter the walls from overtaking the pocket. He didn’t know if he could bear the salty aroma, each whiff was like intaking smelling salt, forcing him to buck at the round testicle that threatened to submerge him without hesitation. Buzzing rang from beneath him as a bubbled climbed into the pocket, his phone emerging from the pool as a notification was plastered upon it.

It was from one of the members, sending a message about the meet for tomorrow. He fiddled a finger toward its direction, its angled edge taping at his fingertips, before a fold greedily dragged it out of sight. He sighed as he faced the wall, thrashing it about to get Fervin’s attention. This time there was no response, all except his goofish giggling as he mocked the game. He couldn’t do anything but wait, tugging into the soggy fold as he closed his eyes.

A few minutes passed as he opened his eyes, once chaotic background softening as snores followed behind it. He was still in his balls, and he was fast asleep. In rage, he thrashed about the chamber to cause discomfort, swiping at the lump at his torso despite how weakly his limbs slipped off.

A roaring ocean filled his ears, as the side of his hear were submerged in milky pool. In shriveled defeat, he closed his eyes, awaiting for the jock to wake up once more. DnD was tomorrow, and he couldn’t stand being trapped in his nuts for a moment more. —-------------------------------------- Throughout the next day, he slept to conserve his energy, listening to Fervin’s wandering as carried out his activities. When waved of seed flowed into his nostrils, he shot awake, kicking the testicle as a jolt shook the walls. A groan escaped from the jock as fingers took to his balls, forcing him to adjust as the chamber tilted it’s side.

“Watch where you’re kicking in there will ya?” Ferman demanded. “These babies are to be treated with care!”

“These babies are a nightmare, I’ve been stewing in here for god now’s how long!”

“Oh please, you barely move in there, it can’t be that bad.” “You’re not the one neck deep in side!” He bent his knees to open more space, driving his feet into the sides of the testicular wall.

Its flesh raced to subdue, contracting its muscle around him like a snake. But he refused to let himself cave under its pressures, prying at the opposite wall.

Fervin’s body twisted. “What are you doing?”

“DnD is tonight, I can’t stay in your balls any longer. And if I have to cause a ruckus, then so be it!”

His body lit ablaze as he took to the lump, kneading into the tender walls as the testicle throbbed beneath its layer. Fervin’s fingers raced to subdue his efforts, but the sac was too full to add enough pressure, Merkeo using it as a shield as battered the walls with his own body.

After moments of struggling, a roar of defeat erupted from Fervin." Fuck it! Fine I’ll get you out.” he announced. “Was getting tired of hauling you around anyway."

The testicles swayed as he wandered outside. It wasn't long before pressure built beneath, the opposite testicle shifting before it dropped off a ledge. The sound of wet slaps returned from above, sending ripples in the chamber as the testicular sac compressed Merkeo's face.

"Ugh, my suit is so ruined, can't you pump faster?"

"Don't get your tidy widdies in bunch ya nerd, I'm almost there."

The walls flexed harder, compressing his feet as he squeezed along the hump like paste in a canister. The valve slowly began to quiver, widening slowly a seed rushed through its mouth. It flowed into its tubes like a pipeline, gulping periodically at the substance as he himself was pulled close to its lips.

Strands of his own hair were plucked between the soggy lips, crowning his head as seed piled his shoulder. But flex ceased as the narrow tube dried up, clamping at his head as seed disappeared into the abyss above. "What the? What's the hold up?"

A muffled ring vibrated the walls, the pounds halting as the jock shifted slowly. "Got a call." Fervin said, answering the device. "Bandi, my boy, what's up? Yeah I’ve been in town, just letting out some steam."

"Hey! Don't stop, keep going!"

"Give me a fucking minute, I'll get there…no no, just talking to a nerd is all I-…wait seriously?! Oh shit, count me in!"

The sac rattled from the jock’s excitement. "What are you doing out there?"

"The boys found a goldmine for some chicks from the cheerleading squad at the university. Looks we're heading to the bar."

"What?! What about me?! You still have to take me out!"

"I'll fetcha ya later, Right now I gotta fetch old faithful from the drawers. I'm gonna catch me a big one tonight"

The chamber thrashed as he braced himself for another tide, the thick goop dragging down his body like syrup. He stretched his limbs to pierce the tender muscle, but pouted at the meat pocket. Unbelievable, he was about to be free from this hellhole before that phone call. He couldn’t bear more of Fervin’s antiques for god knows how, but it appears he didn’t have much choice.. Before he knew it, the chamber moved as steps trailed outside, a door muffling open as the purrs of the truck returned.

And so began the trip to the bar. Voices muffled from the walls as Fervin greeted his friends, softer tones following them as he assumed they were women. His hips gyrating was the confirmation he needed, if not rhythmic throbbing from the shaft.

The minutes felt like an eternity as jazz played from the bar, glasses clanging together as the jock’s obnoxious chattering filled the void. His ears submerged in seed was a mercy compared to listening to the awful pick up lines he spewed from his mouth.

"This is so humiliating." he groaned.

"Hey baby, there's no need to take a seat on these raggedy old chairs, come take a gander at this one" Fervin said, heavy thumps causing the sac to dip.

Pressure ensued as the testicle rolled at his back. His torso sunk like an island landscape, dipping beneath the murky fluid as it climbed to his chin. He struggled beneath the titanic weight above, the thigh outside bouncing as it jostled the chamber..

"Oh my, you make a pretty good seat." A woman's voice said above.

"Oh ho baby, I can do more than just cushion."

"Oh for fuck sake." Merkeo covered his ears, hoping to drown out the conversation.

Another hour drew by as he listened to the oaf's bantering. At one point, chattering dwindled before the nutsack spilled forward, and the crushing weight was relieved. Fervin was on the move, the sounds of the bar growing distant until it became white noise in the background.

He scraped the wall before placing his ear against it, curiosity overwhelming him as he listened to the jock’s steps. The zipper of the pants were undone, and he spilled forward as flesh caught his fall.

"Here they are my dear, my pride and enjoy in all its glory."

"You weren't lying, it certainly is thick."

“He’s with a girl, of course he is.” his side cramp as a lump fondled his back, He squirmed to ease its protrusion, elbowing the testicle as the jock released a grunt.

"Is everything all alright?" The woman asked.

"Oh yeah sure, everything is just fine. Just a little..excited is all." Fervin replied. "Afterall, how can a guy not melt for a hot doll like yourself."

The chamber shook as the lump flattened, seed rushing from the other end like a dam as it splashed into Merkeo. Slow wet pounds filled the void, the testicle compressing before it squashed into his body. A disgruntled moan pierced the air as the sac swayed forward, a dulled edge separating the balls as softer moans echoed ahead..

God, She's sucking him off, as if his problem weren't already wacky enough. He fought the testicle to plug his ears, but its ridge forced them away, allowing the demented display to continuing as it intensified. The pressure returned as digits cupped behind him, thinner than the ones before as their pointy ends prodded his back.

The pool increased as it climbed over his head, a current seeping into the valve as it widened closer. Muscle contraptions echoed beyond the thick walls, glurking as the women's moan grew fierce. The sac pulse, and the valve widened as it guzzled seed to the surface..

"Hope you're thirsty, cause I'm gonna unleash my load inside."

"Like hell you are!" Merkeo blurted, thrashing from the chamber.

The lump prodding at his back vanished beneath murky waves, the balls dropping as they bashed against the jock’s thigh. "Did your balls just talk?!" The woman squealed.

"N..no? Did you hear them talking? I..I didn't hear them talking."

"Disgusting! Absolutely disgusting."

The sound of boots muffled from the outside, growing softer as the chamber thrashed about. "No! Come on babe, Come back!" Fervin called desperately for her, the door slamming shut. A vice grip wrapped the testicle, and Merkeo was smothered into the walls. "Damn it you nerd, you scared her off!"

"I scared her off?! I was nearly protein for her! I'm trying to get out from inside you, not end up in another."

"Well congratulations cause now I'm fucking limp, thanks for that." A bang sounded from outside as the jock began to walk. "Can't believe I got cock blocked by a nerd."

The sac rocked between his legs as the creaking door lingered from overhead, trailing off somewhere behind them as the sound of the roaring crowd returned. Merkeo tucked himself against the corner pocket of the chamber, it was the only place he could manage to breath without intaking the salty seed. He heard the jock's friend talking, reminiscing over the cheerleader storming out of the bar. His response wasn't pleasant, a squeeze smother the eager testicle against his head as if to point the blame upon him. but it relented as he relaxed, his balls drooping at the thigh.

He curled against the opposite wall, before a buzz rumbled from above, his phone squeezing from the compressed fold as it slid in front of him.

a photo appeared from beneath the milky substance, a group photo with his friends dressed in their fictional costumes. Speak of the devil, he thought, here comes the fruits of his labor reminding him of his failed attempt. What he would give to be there right now. He focused on the group photo, admiring the designs each of them chose to wear. but his eyes furrowed as he caught a glimpse of one of the members, his eyes widening.

"No way.."

That late night dragged into Sunday morning, as Fervin drove back into the dorm room as he tossed his backpack. Merkeo eyed the quivering sphincter above as its lips expanded, the walls compress as he catapulted into the tight tube. The ride up was rigid and slow, but fast enough to wipe seed clean from his skin before he squeezed back into the embrace of the jock's prostate. In a firm push he climbed up the urethral tube, skyrocketing into a tupperware container as he collided against the plastic wall.

The jock scorned above, the milky stream pouring faster as he shielded his face. "Alright that's enough!"

"Not yet it's not." Fervin said grumpily.

the stream pushed at his palms, piercing their way through as he slid into the smooth corner, it was only until his palm remained uncovered did it finally stop, and the slit sealed shut.

"Now it's finished” Fervin sneered at his handy work, shaking the drizzle from his cock before turning toward his stuff.

"Hold it!" Merkeo muttered, rising from the gunk. "We're.. we're not done."

"oh we're not huh? and what makes you say that?"

"You cost me the whole weekend! you have to make up for it!"

"Wha?.." the jock burst from laughter. "What are you on about, you're the nerd who got stuck in there in the first place."

"Only because you put me there. and nearly got me swallowed."

He rolled his eyes, fanning at the remark as Merkeo climbed out of the container. In a slippery leap, the little roommate lunged as he clung to the tufts of his jersey. It was like holding onto a moving vehicle, seed soaking his suit fanned to the luggage on the floor. Fervin drew closer to the computer desk, and jumped as he followed him to the tissue box, stomping at its opening as the giant palmed reached for it..

the jock's face soured. " You're really starting to get on my nerves."

"Likewise, but I'm not letting you off the hook. you’re going to pay up, right here, right now."

"Oh you gotta be shitting me." he chuckled. "Fuck it, I'll bite. What? What could a little nerd like you do to force me to pay you back."

He dug into the soggy pouch of his pocket of his suit, taking out his phone. He clicked at the photo, holding it to the air as Fervin's face loomed closer. "This is how!"

"Hah! What more nerds? Get over yourself."

"They may look like mere nerds to you. But one of them I'm sure you know quite well." he zoomed the photo closer, focusing on a woman dressed as a witch. "That lady right there is Cindy, the lead cheerleader of our university. I wonder what she might think if she finds out about our little mishap. I'm sure she'd love to share the adventure with the football captain."

The jock’s eyes widened before narrowing. "You don't have the balls to go through with that."

"Oh yeah? One already think's you have talking balls, I'm sure they can puzzle the rest if I speak up."

The jock growled, reaching a palm as the thick digits twitched in rage. it lunged forward, yanking a tissue from beneath Merkeo’s feet as it crumpled into a withered mess. "What do you have in mind?.."

"Heh."

"It's so good to see you again, Merkeo” Cindy greeted him, lowering a finger as he shook her hand. We missed you last night’s session. You’re wearing your night costume again?”

He scratched at his head, adjusting his cape. "Yeah, the other suit kinda got stuck in a rut. Fashion crisis am I right? But hey, we at least got time to catch up on a session. I even brought a plus one."

Heavy thuds came from the hallway, sharp squeaks lingering as a silhouette peered through the frame. An inflated dragon loomed in, Fervin’s soured face tucked beneath its chin as the rest of the rubbery suit hauled inside, he grumbled as he wrestled his tail inside, bumping it against the door.

"I'm sure you two know each other."

"We sure do.” Cindy said, “I didn't think he took part in DnD."

"You could say he had a change of heart." He replied, sharing glances with Fervin as his fiery gaze overshadowed the derpy expression of the inflatable.

They prepared the table as they all encircled it, Merkeo taking out the dice as many took their roles. scattered the props along the props behind the bordered sheet, he cleared his throat. "Alright ladies and gents, let’s begin. The adventurers set out upon the request of the king, a dragon has been spotted in a cave near the kingdom. You find the entrance and travel through its catacombs. There, surrounded by shimmering gold and diamonds, lay the beast. Sprawled upon its haunches as it snarled at your intrusion.”

Merkeo paused as he scooped the dice in hand, lending them to one of the members dressed as a wizard. “Care to start us off.”

"Oh Oh! I roll to ride the ride dragon"

"Try it and I'll flatten you like a crumpcake, pinhead!" Fervin snarled.

"Ah ah, not without a roll you're not." Merkeo assorted, nodding toward the little wizard.

The wizard squeed as they shook their hands in place, the dice jumbling like ice cubes as they rolled them to the thin sheet crossing the table. both dices toppled themselves, number nine marking the both of them.

"ooo, Nat 18. the wizard casts a construct to cast himself atop the dragon."

The wizard let out a high pitched squeal as They climbed aboard the inflatable forearm. Fervin eyed in disgust as the little one stood atop of him. the googly eyes of the dragon jangled as they clung to one of the ears, pulling it from one side of his body to the other.

the dragon squeaked as it smothered Fervin’s face, his neck jerking from side to side. "Hey! what the-?!"

“Wow, you really are pulling your weight." Merkeo said. I figured you'd make a good dragon.”

"Get them the fuck off me!"

"mm, not how it works. you gotta announce it, then roll."

"Oh for the-" he reached for the dice at the end of the table, fingers denting the barrier as they rattled. "The dragon attempts to throw the nuisance off."

He flung the dice forward, their forms streaking across the table like cannons as they pushed the barrier back. The dice came to a standstill, number one marking them both.

"Ooo two, the dragon failed to throw the wizard off. bummer."

"The hell?! what kind of bullshit is that I-"

"Our rodeo isn't over yet, dragon!" the wizard yelled, heaving at the inflated ears like reins. "Your hide will be a fine reward for my potions!"

"Crushing you is still on the table you damn pest!"

Merkeo watched as the two of them bicker, admiring the jock's flailing as he walked sluggishly against the walls. but he turned his head as Cindy whispered for his attention, lending an ear toward her.

"He seems pretty aggressive for a DnD player, Are you sure he's here to play?" She asked.

He looked toward the two once more, the wizard yanking backward as Fervin pivoted like a horse on a hill. He smiled as he placed a hand on his cheek. "Oh yeah, I'm sure."

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 37)

Tw: none 4 now , just a short chapter wirh Yves fluff

Part 38

"Yes dear, you may." Yves sat on the chair next to your bed, crossing his legs elegantly as he watches you open the pristine packaging.

You asked him for permission if you're allowed to eat the imported macarons he flew in all the way from France. You're nervous because the box itself looked extremely expensive, his gift looked too beautiful to eat.

You end up closing the box of delectable, colourful pastries. Some had gold leaf on them. They're definitely mouthwatering, especially after days of eating bland hospital food. You didn't touch any of Montgomery's takeaway.

You told him that you're going to save it for later. Yves didn't react to you, instead he pulled out another box with a black ribbon wrapped around it from his massive shopping bag that he no doubt retrieved from a luxury store. Yves kept the box of macarons from somewhere else, so that you had more space to work with. It was large, taking up the entire over-bed table.

You pulled on the neat ribbon before slowly taking the cover off.

Whatever it was, a sheet of black silk was wrapped around it with an envelope that has the brand logo resting atop. You opened it and pulled out a card with golden embossed letters. You had no idea what it says because you couldn't read it. So you set it aside and took out the main item.

You were baffled when you pulled out a large drawstring bag with a velvet interior. But that wasn't the final object, the thing inside it was. Yves second gift to you was a designer backpack, crafted to perfection and made up of only the highest quality materials. You can feel the lavishness through your fingertips rubbing against its fabric.

You opened it to see translucent packaging paper, protecting its form. This must have at least cost him a few grand, you're not accounting for the currency exchange rate. You turned your head to Yves, you looked uneasy. Do you really deserve this?

He simply tilted your head at your discomfort.

"It is time to retire your bag, (name)." He leaned forward, propping his head on his hand. "Unless this isn't to your liking?" You panicked at the sight of sadness in his green irises.

You said no, you love it. But you're scared to use it because it's priceless to you. It will hurt to even have a smidge of dirt on it!

"Then, this shall teach you to be mindful of your belongings." He smiled. "You should treat what you own with care and respect." Yves playfully tapped your nose with his pointer.

Your face heated up at the memory of him discovering the state of your old backpack, finding a dead lizard at the bottom and mold growing in your waterbottle.

"It's the least you could do for the items that uphold your day-to-day activities." Yves continued his lecture as he bent down again to take something else from his shopping bag.

You kept staring at the bag, cautiously packing it back into the drawstring and into the box. Treating it as if it will disintegrate if you handled it a bit too roughly.

"However." He gently guided your head to face him. Yves stroked his fingers under your chin. "I must remind you, they're merely objects. You shouldn't let them dictate your life. They're there to assist you."

He pushed a small box into your hands. It's a miniature version of whatever is on your table.

You untied its ribbon and opened it to reveal a small envelope and a smaller protective drawstring bag, which contained a velvet jewelry box.

You gasp upon opening it. A golden bracelet embellished with stunning pink diamonds. You took it out to inspect it and found that it doubles as a wonderful fidget toy! It has numerous moving parts and gears, providing that satisfaction of sliding and clicking.

You kept playing with it for a few minutes. Until Yves softly cleared his throat to get your attention.

He was smiling adoringly. "I'm happy that you're fond of my gifts, (name)."

You realized you haven't thanked him. Instead of verbally doing so, you decided to grow a pair and peck him on the lips.

You quickly retracted yourself and looked away, feeling shy from what you just did.

It took Yves a few seconds to register what you just did. His fingers ghosting over his mouth as his eyes were wide, staring at your bashful self.

The corners of his lips shakily curled upwards as he silently pushed your over-bed table away.

"Oh, (name)..." Purred Yves as he felt his heart beat so hard and fast against his ribcage, as if it was going to explode. He has no words to describe how adorable, how lovable and how delicious you are to him right now.

He tucked himself into the same bed, snaking his arms around your waist. Soon, you found yourself being cradled by Yves in his lap.

Your back is pressed against his chest as he buried his face into your hair. His own silky strands tickle you by your neck.

You giggled when he nipped at your cheek, he wrapped his lips around his teeth so it wouldn't tear into your skin no matter how hard he bites. It just felt like a firm yet harmless pinch between two knuckles.

He alternated between fluttery kisses and toothless nibbles. You squirmed and laughed hysterically when Yves utilized his nimble fingers to attack your ribs with tickles. It doesn't matter how you scrunch yourself, Yves will always get you to excite yourself.

"You charming little thief, how dare you steal my heart?" He hissed with mock anger before moving on to press his lips against yours.

You grinned and kissed back, loving how soft and supple they were, loving the taste of them. His hair shielded you from the harsh lighting of the room and his comforting smell made you forget the clinical stench of antiseptic in the air. The warmth he provides nullifies the cruel, artificial visual and physical coldness of the room.

He intertwined his fingers with yours, lightly squeezing them in his hold. But that is only with one hand.

The other is gripping so hard on your sheets that his nails started shredding holes into it. His thumb particularly pierced into the mattress. His veins were throbbing and raised, skin taut and digits suffering from tremors.

Yves occupied himself with your lips. Closing his eyes and enjoying the bliss he was handsomely rewarded with. He tries to ignore the fact that he failed to account for the deranged intensity of his cuteness aggression towards you.

Data be damned, he may have lost count of the number of touches he gave you today, but that one rare kiss from you was all worth it.

He lets go of you only to whisper three special words:

"I love you."

Before diving back in and showering you with tenderness as he fights the urge to painfully squash both of your face cheeks.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Star-crossed in the Crosshairs (John Price x Reader)

Epilogue: Choosing My Confessions

Fic Summary: This mission is the pinnacle of your efforts for the past three years. Your whole team and yourself have worked countless hours, slaughtered hundreds, risked life and limb for scraps of intel, and now it all boiled down to pairing up with another taskforce to get this job done and dusted. An unexpected spanner in the works comes in the shape of your former best friend, now also a Captain and somehow resurrected from his KIA status, John Price.

You can’t afford to let feelings - old and new - get in the way of your purpose. No matter how much you’ve missed, wished for, loved him, and no matter how much he might feel the same

AN: Mild spoilers but this is the hurt/comfort aspect. If you'd rather hurt/no comfort, then leave it at the previous chapter.

Chapter 10 // AO3 Version // Masterlist

Weighed down by a worn-out fleece, John Price dragged himself into the lift of his apartment building, hitting his floor button with one knackered pointer finger, his other hand refusing to drop his bag until he was inside his bedroom. Tomorrow, he’d spend half the day soaking in a hot bath with a flannel on his head, air heavy with condensation and the smell of cedarwood. What a welcome for the new year. He counted each of his breaths each level he was taken above. His toes were stiff with chills in his boots, wriggling to get some warmth in his bones before the stroke of midnight.

Sliding in between the doors, he grunted whilst fidgeting in his pockets. At last, his key came free and it slid into the door - awkwardly, so he made a mental note to oil it later into his shore leave. The door slid open. John instantly withdrew his pistol, using the muzzle to push the door open further. A quick evaluation showed the additional cylinder lock still functional.

Abandoning his bag outside his door, John silently prowled into the front room, expecting anything: unturned furniture, ransacked drawers, an identical gun pointed straight at him, anything.

Except for the large lump he spied tucked up on the couch.

The maroon throw blanket that usually rested over the back of the sofa was curled around a sleeping body. John pivoted around, his gun still raised until he saw the face poking out the blanket’s edge. Then his arms slacked, the gun still safe but loose in his grip by his thigh as he laughed under his breath.

He reached across to the side table and flicked on the lamp. Its golden glow highlighted the scar on your cheek, a new one gained in the nine months since he’d seen you last. Your chest was rising and falling with little snores accompanying each motion.

Once he’d retrieved his bag, John slung it to the floor beside the almost identical one at your feet. He debated over what to do next. Eventually, he landed on clearing his throat.Your head lifted instantly, your soporific gaze meeting his equally tired one.

“Hello, stranger,” He said, his voice hoarse yet kind.

“Hi,” You replied, rubbing your eyes before waving a hand at the front door, “Sorry, I waited an hour before I picked the locks.”

So you had gone through the motions of getting his address but not his phone number. Not for the first time in his life, John questioned your train of thought. Then he remembered what he put you through for a decade and decided that hypocrisy was not the goal of the evening.

“Waited longer than I would’ve,” He huffed then used his foot to carefully nudge your overnight bag, the onehe knew you could live out of for a fortnight if push came to shove.

You didn’t notice, or chose not to, instead asking, “What time is it?”

“Uh,” John checked his watch before taking it off, “Half eleven.”

You nodded in acceptance but made no further effort to talk, looking down at your hand fidgeting with the throw rug in your lap.

Sensing you didn’t wanna get into the reason you were sleeping in his sitting room yet, John offered you a helping hand, “You can take my bed. We can save the shop talk for tomorrow.”

Your hand in his, hauling yourself up, grip tougher than it looked, you moved past him, leading the way to the bedroom, “Thanks.”

John didn’t ask how you knew which door it was behind. Rather, he sought refuge in his en suite, shedding his clothes and finding the energy to bother separating them into his divided laundry baskets. It was all he could handle not to fawn over you being in his home and your reason. You always were a curveball in his life, keeping him on his toes. Opting against the effort of shaving, he washed his face and pulled on his pyjamas.

Somehow, the image of you slotting in your earplugs and seeming stiff in the middle of the ice cold bed tilted John’s world off its axis all the more. You whispered a good night to him, which he returned, then he moved away, out and onto the couch just as you had done. His feet poked out onto the armchair, but he didn’t bother covering them in the throw. Instead, he focused on the ceiling, flat and smooth with boring white paint.

Sudden cheers caught his attention, echoing from outside. Faintly, he could make out the numbers descending.

The bellowing of “zero” brought flashes of red and yellow lights slipping through the gap in the curtains. They irritated the white paint with splashes of unpredictability. John’s mind switched up, despite his deep breathing, and he swiftly closed the blinds behind the curtains, shutting out any sign of the new year from his sitting room. Slipping back under the blankets, his body tensed against the few echoes of explosions that made it past the double glazing. He despised every second his body betrayed his intentions, putting him in work-mode in the comfort of his home when he could normally flip the switch without a second thought.

After about ten minutes, John pushed to sit up and groped around the sofa cushions for the remote. Grounding himself amidst the sounds with the images of the sparks showering around the Thames had to be easier than this.

Outside, some drunkards singing Auld Lang Syne clashed with the sporadic and delayed fireworks and the arid display on his TV set. It did little to convince his amygdala that he didn’t need five exit strategies on top of the ones he already had in place. The only reassurance was that, if something were to happen, this would be a nice place to go – with you nearby.

A dim shadow in the screen turned John’s head to see you and how you’d found his dressing gown, donned it accordingly.

You spoke before he could. “Can’t sleep. Where’s your tea?”

When you held up your hand to his attempt to get on his feet, John began pointing out the cupboards needed for your quest. His twisted spine didn’t complain; you brewing for two nondescript mugs was far more fascinating than whatever revelries were going on in some London stadium or recording studio. A soft thanks crossed his lips as you passed one mug to him over the back of the couch.

“Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year. What you watching?”

“BBC concert. Wanna watch with me?”

“You’re so fucking-” You let out a huff, then you hit him lightly with the dressing gown’s cord: “Polite.”

With a short yet deep belly laugh, John patted the sofa cushion beside him, “Never been called that in my life.”

“Don’t make me do it again then.”

Still, you moved around the couch and sat in the space offered to you. A healthy distance cushioned between John’s legs and yours.

Temptation to ask about what you’d been doing the past nine months blended well with the milk and tea – it was “tomorrow” after all. The words were on the tip of his tongue, ready to fall out in such a casual way to mask the impact of your reply, whatever it would be. You couldn’t just be here and not have something to say.

Your earplugs, nudged neatly in place, protected you from the stray fireworks outside and from noticing John’s runaway train of thought. It was almost peaceful to watch Rick Astley and Rylan (of all people) bop about on stage with warmth in your hand and at your side. Just enough to settle your stomach, you sipped your tea and absorbed the warmth through your palms.

In a move categorised under “high risk, high reward”, John unfolded the blanket he had been sheltered under and held up the corner in your peripherals wordlessly. You tried not to let this action derail your intentions as you tucked in closer to him to lay that portion of the blanket over your lap.

Three inches of suffocation between the two of you yet goosebumps extended from your arm hairs to feel the hum of his blood beating through his veins, like your body needed proof you were really next to him and not just a daydream you’d conjured up each time you debated if you regretted your choice or when you’d revisited the situation in therapy numerous times. This feeling was no doubt mutual. John Price had the patience of a sniper, but you were dangling him off a precipice whilst he waited for you to explain yourself.

Knocking back another sip of tea like it was whiskey, you asked, “I’m not keeping you up, am I?”

“No. No, you’re all good.” John told both truth and lies. Yes, you were fine being here. But you’d kept him up many nights, not just this one.

He zeroed in on your wrist as you leaned forwards to place your mug on the only other coaster on the coffee table. A new tattoo of a lit match sat beside his callsign’s artwork, the flame’s linework a nice contrast to the helmet’s bold yet fading black. So much of John’s attention was on the inked pairing that he almost missed what you said to him as you sat back into the couch.

“I think I’m ready to try and work things out with you.”

John wasn’t the kind of man to double take at something shocking. His body was built for earthquakes, absorbing all shockwaves, no swaying, sturdy and reliable. But the phrase he’d hoped to hear all those months ago sent tremors off the Richter scale. Twice glancing at your complicated expression, your words sank into his head with a sluggish pace he was unfamiliar with.

“What?” He asked, his heart beginning to pound and pine for confirmation.

You gave him the privilege of looking right in your eye as you repeated yourself, as steady as before:

“I’d like for us to try working things out. I’m ready to move on from that and I’d like to do that with you, like you asked me to back in March.”

A lot of Nerve was needed to pull this stunt off. Good thing you were known for it. The old times, so far away, waved to the new ones you’d just told him could exist.  

Eyelids pressing shut to stave the mist that filled them, John’s chin met his chest as his head gave into gravity. His voice had gone AWOL. Maybe you were gonna be in the habit of making his speechless, but he wouldn’t care if you did if it meant what you said was God’s honest truth.

Meanwhile, you were starting to tremble with the effort you’d made to come here in the first place. All the decisions you’d opted for, rehearsals with your therapist and in your head, led you to sit in front of him and say with the integrity of your soul bared that, after months of absence, you were willing to try properly. And you were met with a stoic stern man sniffling.

“Am I too late?” You said quietly.

John sighed, drawing himself back up to show you the smile breaking out on his face, “Never.”

First time in years, your tears were not brewed in agony and his presence hummed in your veins. Reaching for your hands, John’s snapped together with yours like magnets. It wasn’t enough. Almost instantly, you had climbed into his lap and wrapped yourself around him until you could strangle each other with your iron grips. You felt nauseous with relief. John’s nose stuffed into your neck, his entire body bloating as he breathed you in with his burly arms firm against your back.

The smallest gap between you so that he could look you in the eye. His thanks fell from his lips over and over, like water tumbling down a fissure, for giving him another chance. Through his gratitude, he could see in the glass of your eyes how much you’d worked to get to here – to him, for him. Because of damage that he’d caused. The best thing anyone had ever done for him, and he didn’t deserve it. But he would take it in this rough reunion, too overcome to do more than just sink into one another.

Far from the same, from before, from a normal steady relationship that would survive under normal circumstances, especially considering you’d be shipped back out to Urzikstan in three days. But God, you knew you’d made the right choice coming back at this point in time. You’d take every second with him now that you could.

---------------------------------

AN: And that's it! I finally finished writing a fanfiction series. Thank you for reading and engaging with it on here and AO3. I really appreciate everything. Thank you again also to @mockerycrow for the original concept and allowing me to write this inspired piece of writing. Onwards, to the next fanfic!

Tag-list: @mockerycrow and @algor-babe

[strawberry-cowgomooo]

Just Like Their Dog

The Just Like Their Dog, 10 Gen Legacy is based on 10 different dog breeds. Each generation has to have that type of dog in their household at all times. Complete the challenges, take care of your dog, and max out friendship with them. And most importantly, have fun!

Use Hashtag: #JustLikeTheirDogChallenge

Gen 1 Golden Retriever Complete Super Parent Aspiration Complete Fish Collection Max Fishing Skill Max Parenting Skill Must Have A Pool On Lot Must Host A Pool Party Every Week Traits: Family-Oriented, Loves Outdoors, Slob

Gen 2 Border Collie Complete Freelance Botanist Aspiration Complete Frog Collection Max Gardening Skill Max Herbalism Max Cross-Stitching Must Can Must Own A Farm Must Live Off-The-Grid Must Have Simple Living Traits: Loves outdoors, Animal Enthusiasts, Active

Gen 3 Husky Complete Musical Genius Aspiration Max Entertainer Career, Musician Branch Max Singing Max Guitar Max Piano Max Violin Max Dancing Date A Coworker Leave Them at the Altar Have A Random Hookup At A Bar/Nightclub And Find Out Your Pregnant Move In You Parents To Help Raise The Baby Traits: Music Lover, Family-Oriented, Party Animal

Gen 4 German Shorthaired Pointer Complete Bodybuilder Aspiration Complete Feather Collection Max Athlete Career Max Fitness Skill Max Comedy Skill Must Have An At-Home Gym Marry Someone You Met At  Bar Have A House Party Every Week Traits: Active, Loyal, Goofball

Gen 5 German Shepherd Complete Friend Of The World Aspiration Complete Fossil Collection Max Cop Career Max Charisma Max Comedy Max Fitness Be Engaged To Someone Be Left At The Altar Marry A Co-Worker Traits: Active, Outgoing, Bro

Gen 6 Corgi Complete Romantic Explorer Aspiration Complete Axolotl Collection Max Romance Consultant Career Max Painting Max Knitting Max Romancing Must Host A Dinner Party Every Week Must Marry An Elder Right After High School Elder Must Live In A Mansion Marry For True Love After Your First Spouse Dies Of Natural Causes Traits: Lazy, Lovebug, Outgoing

Gen7 Chihuahua Complete Serial Romantic Aspiration Complete Crystal Collection Complete Metal Collection Max Charisma Max Debate Max Wellness Max Gemology Marry High School-Sweetheart Must Have Married Three Times, Each Spouse Must Die Before Remarrying Have At Least One Child In Each Marriage Have Little To No Relationship With Your Children Traits: Noncommittal, Hot-Headed, Overachiever

Gen 8 Pitbull Complete Chief of Mischief Aspiration Complete My Sims Trophies Collection Max Mischief Skill Max Video Gaming Max Programming Skill Max Criminal Career, Oracle Branch Marry Your Neighbor Who Is A Secret Agent Once You Reach The Top Of The Career, Quit and Become A Full Time Parent Traits: Socially Awkward, Geek, Loyal

Gen 9 Schnauzer Complete Master Chief Aspiration Reach Level 8 Of Chief Career Before Quitting And Opening Your Own Restaurant Marry Your First Love They Pass Away, Never Marry Again Max Cooking Max Gourmet Cooking Max Mixology Max Baking Have A Dinner Party Every Week Have Restaurant Reach 5 Stars When Spouse Passes, Change Romantic Trait To Gloomy Traits: Foodie, Romantic/Gloomy, Glutton

Gen 10 Poodles Complete Master Actor Aspiration Complete Postcard Collection Complete Poster Collection Complete Snow Globe Collection Max Acting Career Max Acting Skill Max Charisma Skill Must Have A Sauna On Lot Must Have A BFF That Moves In With Them Have One Enemy In The Acting World Traits: Self-absorbed, High Maintenance, Perfectionist

I hope you enjoy the challenge! If you want to play them in a different order, feel free to do it! I just set them up this way to make it flow easier in a story telling way, but have fun!

[gottawritesomething]

Come what come may

Chapter 11 of Pride cometh before the fall (Gale FIC) (11/?)

Orb's symptoms worsen, Gale gets a shave, they go shopping, fight someone other than each other

Interested in one-shots instead? (List of All Current Works)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11

------------------------------

Did he know the weight of his gaze? In gazing at her so openly and trying to catch her eye, he only invited trouble for them both. It was a careful dance for her, making their lack of eye contact seem natural and at worse simply a matter of statistical oddity. She liked looking at him, of course. But recently, everything felt so raw and heavy and overwhelming. Perhaps the only way he'd ever known how to be. There was no lightness, no teasing or deniability making room in him for her. He did not even temper his gaze for her benefit, she meanwhile felt under a magnifying glass. His chin tilted towards her, dampened hair framing his eyes, which, as ever, watched her.

-------------------------------

He felt her hands on him first; through his sleepy, painful haze, he wondered if he was still simply dreaming of her. Her palms were warm and heavy as they rested on his chest. A briefly pleasant experience that did little to counteract the aching pain he felt in every other fiber of his being. Her hair was wild from sleep, but her curls framed her face as she peered down at him, breathing heavily. Her eyes were wide with fear as she scanned him.

"You screamed," Talia said quietly. His aching throat concurred. He heard a rustling of feathers, indicating Tara's presence.

'You came back." He croaked, hurt tangled with the worry swimming in her eyes. Gale groaned, pulling the sheets up over his chest to allow himself a small measure of respectability before slowly raising his hand to clear the sleep from his eyes. Before they reached his face, he heard Talia and Tara gasp. His eyes snapped open, following their gaze to his raised hand. Or what remained of it. The stoney texture from the edge of his finger had spread, rapidly. It coated most of the skin on his pointer and index. He bent his fingers, seeing if the joints still willingly moved. As his digits moved, the skin that met the stone split, and blood gushed onto the blankets.

Clearly over the initial shock, Talia gently reached out to tend to his hand. Gale, now fully awake, snatched it from her reach.

"Do not touch it. It could spread to you."

Talia's jaw tightened as she watched his hand continue to bleed freely. She took a steadying breath before responding. "This is clearly Orb related, and we need to tend to it immediately. Our focus has to be stopping the spread on your person, it will likely do nothing to me."

"The Orb that fed off of magic within you, Talia. We don't know enough to make such assertions."

No sooner had words left his mouth than he realized his mistake.

"Right. My magic seemed to help the most initially, so maybe-" She reached for his chest again, and he recoiled. His blood felt alight, every part of him burned with the effort of the movement.

He could tell she was getting angry, the inaction eating her from the inside out. While he was sympathetic, they could not afford to afflict them both. She'd begun rifling through the drawers next to his nightstand, the tension clear on her face. Another wave of an aching pain swept through him, all his joints feeling greatly outsized for the bones they conjoined. With a great measure of churlishness Talia held out a retrieved scroll of Heal. Gale considered bemoaning the expense of such a scroll, but as if pulling the thought from his mind, Talia's stare grew blisteringly hot. She stood, arms crossed as the spell took effect, Tara pacing the length of the bed in similar agitation. He was briefly reminded that this was not the first time they'd waited anxiously at his bedside waiting on a spell to take. It seemed a marvel they'd not harmed each other in the whirlwind of caring for him after the Orb's initial arrival. The bleeding had stopped, though the skin was tender and primed to reopen at the slightest provocation. Unsurprisingly it had done nothing to the encroaching stone overtaking his fingers.

"Well, that is decided then." She did not wait for his questioning reply. "I'm moving forward with the Undermountain expedition." He realized that he'd lost the small leverage he'd had in this argument, and the pain made clear counter-arguments challenging to grasp. But what remained clear is that she would be vanishing from his presence soon enough. In his addled state, he could not quash the rising dread of the all-consuming loneliness he'd purported to cope with, with ease.

"A compromise…?" It was the most he could spit out initially. Halting Talia's scowling. She waited patiently for him to regain his composure enough to plead his case. Which in retrospect boded poorly for his chances. He took careful breath in, tamping down the fear and anguish threatening to tinge his words.

"If you so insist on making this journey, which I may remind you is both grueling and famously perilous. Not to mention-"

"Gale." No further words were needed; now was not the time for pontification.

"If you so insist, allow me to accompany you on this journey." Talia looked genuinely stunned and possibly uncertain if she'd heard him correctly.

"Well, now I am certain the orb has begun impacting your brain because there is no way-" He gave her a wry smile before struggling to a seated position, pulling the sheets up with him as he went. Armed with a modicum of decorum, he continued.

"We know that the Orb's other impacts are largely tempered by the procurement and consumption of artifacts, which will be in greater supply in the Undermountain. My expansive knowledge of both Waterdeep and a more academic background in magic would be a boon to navigating the Anti-Magic areas with the dungeons. Unless you were intending on taking a different wizard with you on this journey?" A small manageable panic gripped him, some of this argument would fall apart had she another wizard in mind. She must know there would be no one more qualified to travel with her, no one as invested in her safety as he was…

"I was of two minds about it."

"An amendment to the compromise then. Let us meet this wizard of yours, and I will show you that there is no other better suited for you than myself." Talia creased her lips, preventing a smile before sobering.

"And what about the general volatility of your condition? It isn't as though there will not be fighting."

"I am due a little credit, don't you think? I was once Mystra's Chosen; combat has become second nature to me and will never be an issue."

"Really? Never?" He gave an assertive nod. "I will schedule the meeting and we go from there, fair?" She'd turned to go. He called to her just as she reached the door.

"And Talia. Try not to be too cross with me at my hesitancy in supporting this expedition. It is a natural impulse to try and shield those we care about from danger, especially when they feel a moral compunction to run head-first towards it."

She paused a hand pressed on the frame of the doorway, he waited for her to turn back to respond instead she nodded curtly and closed the door.

—

Talia heard the commotion from a couple rooms away. Unsurprising to all involved, Tara had been in vehement opposition to the entire endeavor. Talia had left the negotiations to Gale, uncertain if it was a fight she wanted him to win. Tara's most recent complaint seemed to burst through the walls.

"And Gods! Can you even imagine the two of you set loose on the countryside!? Forget the destructive power of the Orb; that'd be enough to level a city! The Weave cannot be expected to withstand that degree of magic and mischief."

"To be fair, it wouldn't be the countryside-"

No sooner had Talia stepped within Tara's eyeline than she was pelted with a similar level of outrage. "Talia, you've been suspiciously unopinionated on this. Surely you've spoken to him about this ill-advised course of action?"

"I've given my two cents, yes, but he is his own man, Tara." Talia had decided that a diplomatic answer was best for this particular spat. Tara's tail swished as she scoffed at the notion.

"False. I will not have my masseuse wander about some godsforsaken hole in the ground."

"I am urged to remind both of you that while my abilities are diminished due to the orb's presence, I've not reverted to an apprentice since I last checked." Gale seemed to be getting increasingly peeved at being spoken about and not to. Tara gave Gale a once-over as if checking if he'd reverted to an inferior caster despite his protestations. Seemingly softening her objections in the face of his determination. Talia suspected that she was simply glad to see Gale fight for something; it felt like a shadow of his old drive.

"Fine then, in light of your imminent departure, Mr. Dekarios, I think it far past time to detach that unkempt patch of fur from your face."

Gale grimaced, a brief acknowledgment that he'd let it get a touch messier than maybe intended in the past week. Before glancing at Talia for approval.

"Talia expressed a fondness for it, so I will tame it but it stays I'm afraid."

Tara sputtered before turning to stare at Talia with a look of utter contempt as though attempting to mentally reduce her to ash.

"I knew I never liked you for a reason." She hissed. Her tail getting adorably puffy.

"Tara!" Gale looked askance.

Talia raised her hands in acquiescence, "I could assist in cleaning it up, but I remain solidly in support." Gale shot her subtle look of appreciation.

"Unless by 'clean it up' you mean utter removal, I'm afraid there is no hope for either of you. I take my leave of you." Tara gave a final hiss before flitting from the room. Talia smiled to herself at Tara's theatrics before realizing Gale was clutching at his chest, a grimace marring his face. Talia was over to him in a flash, ducking under his other arm to support his sinking weight.

"Perhaps the orb has its own opinions on my grooming." He gave her a lopsided squinting smirk, the physical toll clear through the attempt at humor.

"For the time being, it can keep its opinions to itself then." Talia slipped a hand into a pocket just above his heart, where she'd seen him store spare rings or amulets. Her hand threatened to shake, feeling his heartbeat beneath her fingers. She withdrew her prize quickly, attempting to ignore how closely she felt him watching her. Immediately, she felt the pull of the Orb on the object; a flash and a groan later, he straightened, able to once again stand on his own once. He was looking better but had not returned to his normal vigor quite yet.

"I suppose you could have handled that yourself," Talia said apologetically. She did not want to give him the impression that she did not believe he could manage himself. He glanced towards her, responding softly as if volume would reignite the pain.

"I suppose," he said simply. But I value your seemingly endless offers of assistance, though I remain bitterly disappointed in my ability to repay such kindness." He paused, seeming to be mulling something over.

"Would you perhaps be willing to extend that assistance once more, I am afraid given the present state of my affected fingers I believe arming them with a blade could end rather disastrously." He looked reluctant to ask before adding "And after all we did promise Tara a neatened wizard.".

Talia's heart flip-flopped in her chest. She knew he never intended cruelty, but gods did it feel like he'd set out to torture her. She was almost certain he had a number of spells in his books that could clean up his beard better than she could…

"Well, we can't break a promise to your Tressym; I will do what I can."

He gestured towards a vanity where personal grooming items had been carefully laid out. With her back turned, she listened to him settle into a chair nearby. She felt his eyes on her as she gathered the needed tools, the weight of his gaze draping over her with considerable heft. As she swiveled back to face him, she was met with his gaze once again, the depth of his eyes catching her off guard. A small smile graced his mouth, only warming the brown of his eyes further. She steeled herself, electing to focus on the task at hand. A small part of her dared to wonder if this was a product of her poking and prodding examination of his new orb symptoms, an unlocking of an unspoken familiarity where perhaps every glancing touch wasn't treated as a shock to the system. This grooming kit was old but clearly well-maintained and perhaps predictably very traditional in its makeup.

"Where did you even find soap like this?" She asked over her shoulder, lathering the soap into a bowl in preparation.

"Ah, that is actually an interesting tale-" She smiled at the bowl in front of her, pleased he'd fallen into her monologuing-based trap. In all honesty it served to allievant her own anxiety, she'd always found his cadance to be soothing, doubly so when spoken with enthusiasm. "-they offered a trade, an oh-so-simple illusionary cantrip for a lifetime's supply of the soap. Little did I know they'd not specified whose lifetime it was measured in." Satisfied at the lather, Talia returned to him. His eyes had gathered up all the nostalgia of his story, leading them far from the tower room. He'd dampened his face in preparation, and a few extra strands hung low over his forehead. She was struck by how alike a painting he seemed in that moment. In her mind she conjured the piece, a handsome man casting his eyes over the sea, homesick for an unreachable home. As she approached him, his focus returned to her in full force. She breathed out slowly, as if fixing a particularly challenging cast. Did he know the weight of his gaze? In gazing at her so openly and trying to catch her eye, he only invited trouble for them both. It was a careful dance for her, making their lack of eye contact seem natural and at worse simply a matter of statistical oddity. She liked looking at him, of course. But recently, everything felt so raw and heavy and overwhelming. Perhaps the only way he'd ever known how to be. There was no lightness, no teasing or deniability making room in him for her. He did not even temper his gaze for her benefit, she meanwhile felt under a magnifying glass. His chin tilted towards her, dampened hair framing his eyes, which, as ever, watched her. She was immensely glad of the fullness of her hands in that moment as she battled a near overwhelming desire to brush the wild strands from his lovely face. To war with the stubborn ever present cowlick with all the softness he made her capable of. To press the lightest kiss upon the worry lines of his furrowed brown. Instead, she gently tilted his chin further with the side of the bowl, using her finger along the rim to blunt the edge. His eyes continued to follow her movements as she brushed along his throat with a whisper of contact. Her brain congratulated her on a happy medium, could he hear her heart, she wondered. In any of the ways, it was trying to reach him. Her heart was most certain that he could pull the truth, in all its bloody beating glory from her, if he could just keep her in his sights. So she moved deftly, never lingering long enough for him to affix to her in earnest, purposeful in her strokes of the soap-ladened brush onto the wispy and overgrown ends of the beard.

"In a rush, are we?" She paused for a moment, a small smattering of soap landing on the floor between them. He lazily waved away the mess with little effort. She loathed being caught so blatantly. Instead, she poured everything she had into a performance that she could almost believe. A light laugh, an even lighter chagrined smile, an alleviation of her heart's steady echoing beat.

"Of course not, only worried about Tara's reappearance to finish the job fully. A fear I think you should share."

"Ah, she's all bark and no bite, or all purr, no scratch as it were." His voice rumbled pleasantly through the brush, making her hands tingle. A genuine smile eked itself out through the careful facade. She felt the warmth of his body as she slowed her progression across his skin, keeping her eyes stubbornly upon all places but his eyes or mouth. Though it did not save her from noticing the upward tint of the corner of his mouth. As she finished up and stepped away, she did an appropriately theatrical flourish of presentation.

"Well, there you are, Gale of Waterdeep, Archmage and Wizard Extraordinaire." His returned smile did not quite reach the rest of his face. "Quite ready for a day on the town I think?" His smile fading completely at this.

"Talia…"

"IF you think we can travel but you cannot handle light shopping then there is absolutely no way you're accompanying me to the Undermountain." She attempted to keep her tone as light as it allowed but ensured there was as much firmness in her voice as there was scolding in his. He tilted his head in concession.

"I suppose a little shopping is ultimately harmless, the price tags aside." He'd stood and strode to a mirror to inspect her work, using one of his undamaged fingers to inspect the line. Finally, meeting his eye through the reflection, the indirectness granting her some refuge. "A fine job. Not exactly my usual styling, but we all have our quirks when it comes to hygienic habits. Some more than others." This was familiar territory; he was inviting her retort, and she, in turn, was glad to see the see sparks of his former self through the haze of worries.

"I wholeheartedly agree," He was already smiling in preparation. "So let me be the first to praise you for having the wisdom to step aside for those who can improve upon your personal curation. Now shall we see if the rest of Waterdeep agrees with me?"

—

Gale lost Talia in the bustle of the markets almost immediately. He'd done his very best to keep those reddish bronzed curls in view as she'd darted about. But no sooner had something drawn his attention for even a moment she'd washed away in the crowd. Between the pair of them, someone had suggested a shared ending location with the assumption that their various personal material gathering needs would have diverged their paths. Immensely good planning on their part, all things considered, as he'd finished his shopping well before he suspected she had. As he made his way to the chosen potion shop, he considered again the wisdom of this ill-conceived journey. It was clear Talia would not be deterred, and a small part of him was admittedly quite curious at what esoteric knowledge lay in the murky depths of the Undermountain. He reached the threshold of Dailantha's Herbs & Exotic Plants with no sign of Talia out front, as expected. He stepped inside to peruse the offerings.

Talia had insisted upon the place specifically because they only dealt in reagents rather than pre-brewed potions. He much preferred the well-known Diloontier's Apothecary in the Castle Ward, but she had insisted that some things required a more personal touch. In his musing, he ran his unbandaged hand over his neatened beard, the memory of Talia's touch once again surfacing. It had felt almost reminiscent of the more pleasant components of his dream of her, the softness of her skin, the scent of her so intensely close to him. He'd wondered aloud of her rush, concerned that he'd finally asked one too many favors of her but soon realized that perhaps she'd been the wiser one to not linger. He could not watch her work for obvious reasons, so instead, he found himself focused upon her mouth. Her lips had looked deliciously soft, and he'd been positively dizzy at their closeness by the time she'd finished.

It had always been clear by others' reactions that Talia had an undeniable allure to her. But recently his subconscious had tugged him in a direction that was both dangerous and stirred the embers of his conscience on her behalf. He'd always tiptoed around her but if they were truly going to be traveling together so closely, they could not afford him being distracted by her in that way. Or any other traveling associate, he reminded himself sternly. So far, he'd done a poor job of concealing that traitorous need for comfort, and others would not be as patient with him as Talia continued to be. His eyes scanned the shelves thoughtfully, and between the recipes for hair ointments and health draughts, he spotted a small sign advertising a numbing potion. The implication of its use was clear and he had read of their benefits in more intimate settings. For his particular circumstances, he suspected he could improve on the design to be more tailored to his needs. He bundled the ingredients and made his way to the shopkeep. The women examined his purchases warily just as the bell of the shop door rang, and Talia stepped into the shop. Talia gave both him and the shopkeeper a small wave as she stepped into the store before turning to examine a number of mushrooms growing from the floorboards. As Gale returned to the transaction, he was met with a sympathetic smirk from the shopkeep.

"Understandable." Was all she said before handing over his newly wrapped package, he felt his cheeks heat. He considered explaining the misconception, before realizing it wasn't much of a misunderstanding. He carefully tucked the wrapped parcel beneath his arms before approaching the sorcerer. Talia's arms were ladened with all manner of provisions and supplies, it was truly an impressive balancing act that she'd been able to gesture at all to them.

"Here I was under the impression you traveled light." He teased gently. She gave him a look over the top of her purchases as he reached out to lighten the load.

'Gale, I travel with a magical room with all of my things. Shame I'll have to leave it behind for this one. Plus, if Tara is to be believed, I'll be in good company with your packing style.

"Well, I always endeavor to be good company."

"I think you are." Gale's heart warmed at the affirmation that she did at least in part enjoy his presence. He wished he was capable of complimenting her with the ease she seemed to call on freely. It had always appeared to him that she could naturally intuit these simple statements that meant a great deal to people. He'd never quite mastered the ease component of it so could only offer his sincerity.

"I do cherish your friendship, you know. Though my recent efforts in conveying it adequately may have faltered as of late, but even amidst our parting, my concerns for your well-being remained. I harbored sincere hopes that you were safe, if not that, at the very least, embraced by the warmth of happiness." She smiled warmly at him, but the edge of her smile had seemed to catch on something before it fully unfurled. As if on cue she dumped the remainder of her purchases into his not-waiting arms before pulling out her bag of holding, and unceremoniously dumping the contents into the bag's opening. Satisfied they turned to leave, and no sooner had they stepped towards the door, were they stopped.

"I think you've gone far enough." A dwarven woman stood blocking their path. A look of malice twisting her features.

"Clearly not, since we've not exited the shop yet." Gale said cheerily, as Talia suppressed a laugh nearby.

A muffled voice came from behind them. "Take all arcane disputes outside my shop please."

The dwarven woman drew herself up to her full height and stepped aside, eyeing both mages as she did. Like they were going to dash away at any moment.

"I see no need for there to be a dispute of any kind, we've no quarrel with you." Gale offered, as they leisurely strolled from the store.

"Well, I can assure YOU that there IS going to be a problem. I refuse to be embarrassed by a smart-mouthed mage, certainly not again."

At this proclaiment, Talia and Gale glanced at each other. Gale tilted his head questioningly and squinted his eyes, Talia in tandem, slowly shook her head with a slight shrug.

"You DARE not recall our encounter?" The Dwarf's hands crackled with distinctive green energy. Once again the pair shifted uncomfortably unclear at who she was addressing. The Warlock looked between them both before releasing a rage-fueled scream. Talia extended both her hands, in an attempt at placation.

"Of course I-" She began,

"Not. You." The Warlock spit each word, venomously at her feet. There was a slight relaxation in Talia's posture, nodded her head understandingly and dropped her hands. Gale gave her what he hoped she understood, to be his most disapproving look, which she pointedly ignored as she stepped aside to watch the exchange.

"Ma'am I've known a few warlocks in my time. Talented, of course, though sometimes too eager to listen to the devils on their shoulders. Let us not have this be one of those instances." From the corner of his eye, he saw Talia shake her head incredulously. "I assure you whatever quarrel you have with me could be resolved just as effectively over a good brew. Judging from your anger am I presume I've been rude to you in the past?"

"RUDE?" The woman all but screamed.

"You once called me a ‘grim testament to the state of magical education in this city. ' THEN you called my casting ability ‘as weak-willed as a newborn Quipper’ and said I should ‘seek a profession outside the academics since I am so ill-suited for it, perhaps cooking where my mismeasurements wouldn’t impact the final product so dramatically.’"

"Gods…Gale." Talia uttered in a tone of genuine horror.

Gale, to his credit, winced with appropriate regret at the scalding nature of his past words.

"My good lady, I cannot express the depth of my remorse. But I can assure you I have received thorough retribution for my regrettable past actions. In fact, my companion can vouch for my good character." Gale now looked expectantly at Talia, as she made a face.

"I'm not sparing you from the consequences, if a skirmish is the result it invalidates the scolding I received for my spat. Besides, what did you say once, 'Not for me to interfere in someone else's quarrel…'?"

"You fought with children Talia, I hardly think-"

It became clear - a second too late - that the adversary was not enjoying their banter, as they were. He felt the casting before he saw the path, instinctually creating a shield. He'd been honest with Talia in saying that while he was dampened, fighting still came incredibly naturally to him as it always had. The demands of a perfect cast under austere conditions was where he'd thrived in his time as Chosen. As his shield sealed, a solid ice wall split the confrontation just as a blast was about to reach him. The force of the blast had left a sizable crater in the fresh wall, almost gouging through enough to reach him. Gale glanced up to see Talia perched atop the separating wall.

"What happened to not interfering?" He called up to her, teasing in tone but genuinely glad of her participation.

"That was before you decided to chance an Eldritch Blast to the chest. Only one of us is allowed to be reckless at a time." She offered, before teleporting from view as an errant blast careened towards her. The Warlock made short work of the ice wall, smashing it to pieces with spell after spell. Gale wondered if Talia had cast it less as cover but instead as an offering on which their opponent could unleash their fury with little consequence. It was unfortunately not the time to applaud her cleverness. As the last of the wall collapsed into a mushy heep, he caught a glimpse of Talia duck into an alleyway, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments. It was clear she'd allowed him to spot her, which meant she likely had a plan. He paused involuntarily, he was not typically one to defer to another's plottings but Talia had proved herself time and time again. Even he had fallen into her carefully laid plans. Perhaps it was reasonable to put faith in someone else's casting, especially if he hoped to travel with her in a collaborative and not combative manner.

He felt the tug of her presence in the Weave, delicately pulling at the parts she required. Each strand chosen crackling with potential. It was a simple enough matter of mobilizing the irate Dwarven women, a simple gust would have deposited her near enough but Gale decided to take a more hands on approach. With long practiced and near perfected ease, he wove his way through the torrent of spells until the woman and Talia were within sight. A quick utterance and gesture sent a rumbling 5 foot square of pavement jittering beneath the aggressor unseating her and ushering her towards Talia's waiting spell. Which he could now see appeared to be a sleep sigil. The briefly indisposed Warlock scrambled to her feet, placing her solidly within the trap. Talia appeared from around a corner to slow the woman's crumple to the ground. She smiled with satisfaction as Gale approached.

"That went about as well as could be expected, I didn't think you'd herd her over here." She continued smiling brightly, he'd forgotten how infectious her delight in well used magic was. "Though I do think we should leave unless there are other people you'd like to fight?" Her delight shifted to teasing. Answered by his head shake in mock disappointment.

"I thought you'd be proud that I was picking fights. Is the issue that she's out of school?"

"Will I ever be free of that mockery?"

"Only a few more times, I promise,"

She, as she so frequently did, turned away, hiding her laughter from him. Insistent she not give him the satisfaction. It was odd how he so adored this tendency of hers. A faux deniability that he made her smile but never stifled enough to be believable. Making it all the more rewarding when he coaxed a laugh or a smile she didn't bother attempting to hide. It rumbled his insides like a warmed brew.

They both looked down at the unfortunate woman, who'd continued angrily muttering in her sleep. "So what did you do to her?" Talia queried.

"Awfully presumptuous that I am the party at fault here." She cocked her head in disbelief.

"She attacked in broad daylight, for absolutely no reason then?"

Gale snorted at the absurdity of it all. It was now Talia's turn to look appalled. "Gale, it is not funny."

"You're smiling."

She tossed a bundle of curls over her shoulder flippantly. "It is a nervous habit."

They were both smiling now, standing over the sleeping form of an enraged warlock. He could only imagine what passersby must be thinking."Hm… we'll have to ask Seraphina." Gale was unfamiliar with the name. "Now let's go see a woman about a wizard."

------------------------

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11

Interested in one-shots instead? (List of All Current Work

[novantinuum]

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Rating: T Words: 4.8K~ Summary: In another world, a young girl awakens right beside the resurrected hero, fearful and disoriented. Outposts are left to ruins, her brother’s mind is in tatters, and they’ve barely seen a soul traveling these lands since they first emerged from that cavern… What happened to her family? What happened to her Hyrule? _ (An AU retelling of Breath of the Wild, focused on the growing bond between an amnesiac young man who must relearn how to be both champion and brother, and a lost little girl who must find new purpose in the remains of the land she once called home.)

Chapter Summary: In which- both desiring different things from this journey- Aryll and Link start to hit a few small bumps in the road.

If you enjoy, I’d heartily appreciate your support via reblogs here and/or comments/kudos on AO3! Thanks <3 ____

Chapter preview:

Link hums for her attention once he finishes his mushroom skewer.

“Tomorrow morning, I want to teach you how to wield a bow,” he says, and jabs his pointer finger towards one of the weapons he retrieved from the bokoblins, currently leaning against the campsite’s log bench. “For self defense, of course,” he quickly clarifies, as if that wasn’t blindingly obvious from the start of his proposition.

Aryll squints at the bow in question. It’s skinny and wooden, and honestly looks like it could fall apart at a moment’s notice.

“Using that?” she says, raising a brow with doubt.

Her brother shrugs. “It’s light. The draw weight on mine is too heavy for you.”

She crosses her arms, musing on this response as if she’s a philosopher drafting a grand treatise about the meaning of life. Yeah, that’s probably a good point. But is she strong enough to use any bow to fight? Frankly, she doubts she’d be any good at archery. She found Mother’s old oaken hunting bow in the back of their storage closet recently, and when she picked it up to handle she couldn’t even pull the string back. It was far too taut. It doesn’t seem like the right weapon for her.

Then, her mind whirring at all angles, recalling age-old promises her papa was never able to fulfill…

“What if you teach me swordplay instead?” she blurts out loud, hands steepled together in hope. “I always wanted to learn, just like you, but—“

“No,” Link cuts her off, shaking his head in time with his hand motion.

Her mouth twists into a sour scowl.

“Aw, come on! If you teach me, I promise I’ll—“

“I said no,” he repeats with extra emphasis, his eyes deadly serious. “Too dangerous. A ranged weapon is far safer.“

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Pairing: Single Dad! Eddie Munson/ Steve Harrington

Requested By: NA

Word Count: 1,988

Series Summary: Eddie left Hawkins in 1986 with no reason to ever return. But now, a few years have passed and life has changed. Eddie finally returns home and has to deal with everything he left behind, including Steve Harrington. This story starts in May 1991.

Chapter Summary: As Steve continues to work on Eddie's car, he floats the idea of meeting Lucy.

Stranger Things Masterlist

Steddie Masterlist

Series Masterlist

~~~~~

It had now been over a week since Eddie bought his car. Or rather, since Wayne had bought it for him. He spent his evenings with Steve at the shop, watching uselessly as Steve worked for free to make it safe enough to put Lucy's car seat in.

Eddie was going on about Lucy, how she's learning to crawl but she only gets a few timid paces forward before falling on her face. Steve was listening while he worked, hands moving nimbly to undo bolts.

"When do I get to meet her?" He asked suddenly, stopping Eddie's story.

"What?"

"What?" Steve echoed the question. "You afraid she's gonna like me better than you or something?"

"Yeah, that's definitely it," Eddie scoffed. He took a moment, just a beat of quiet before asking, "You really wanna meet her?"

"Course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

Eddie shrugged. His fingers pulled at a loose thread on the knee of his black jeans. The idea of introducing Steve to his daughter had crossed his mind, but he shut it down. He had, seemingly incorrectly, assumed that Steve wouldn't have any interest in spending time with a six month old little girl who he had no attachment to.

Steve suddenly rolled out from under the car, more than just his legs now in view. He leaned up and Eddie was impressed by his core strength as he held his body in what looked to be an uncomfortable position.

"Look if it's weird or something, just forget it. But you're my friend and she's your baby, so I just thought it'd be cool to meet her. I mentioned her to Robin, and we both agree that she sounds awesome.”

Eddie could have cried on the spot. Steve was the first person to ask to meet Lucy. Wayne and Sarah two doors down had been forced to meet her. But Steve was asking. He’d even talked about her to his other friends. Steve was interested.

"Not weird, just surprising," Eddie answered with a smile. "How about tomorrow, you take the night off and come over. Wayne goes to work at 7, but if you come around 6:30 I'll have food made."

"I get to meet the famous Lucy Munson, and dinner? How'd I get so lucky?"

"Why don't you wait and decide if you're lucky or not after you see what's for dinner," Eddie laughed. Steve nodded, his smile wide and he laid back and pushed himself back under the car.

The following evening Steve showed up promptly at 6:30. Eddie was scooping steaming Hamburger Helper into a plastic bowl for Wayne when the three solid knocks sounded from the door. Lucy, he realized, had never heard that sound. He grinned at her confused expression as she watched Wayne stand from the couch and walk across the room to answer it.

"Your friend's here," he announced, opening the door wider to allow Steve to enter.

Eddie looked over from where he was now packing Wayne's lunch into the blue cooler he took with him every night. He zipped it and carried it to Wayne, handing it over before retrieving Lucy from where she was banging blocks together on the floor.

"Bye, grandpa," Eddie cooed, his voice high pitched and soft as he raised her hand to wave at him. Wayne smiled, waving back to her across the room as he closed the door behind him.

"So," Eddie started, resuming his normal voice as he turned his attention to Steve. "Uh, this is Lucy."

"Hi, Lucy, I'm Steve." He introduced himself, taking her hand between his thumb and pointer finger, moving it up and down. "It's lovely to finally meet you."

"Dude, she's six months old," Eddie laughed. "She doesn't understand the concept of a handshake."

"I'm trying to make a good first impression," Steve answered, giggling to himself. Lucy seemed to like his giggle almost as much as her daddy did. She immediately leaned forward, stretching her arms towards Steve. He looked surprised, unsure of what to do until Eddie titled his shoulder forward, pushing her towards him. He hooked his hands under her armpits and pulled her away from Eddie, holding her tightly to his own chest.

"Have you ever held a baby?" Eddie asked. His stance was rigid. He held her bottom with one hand, the other supporting her back.

"Held my baby cousin once, when he was smaller than this. But my aunt made me sit on the couch. She was afraid I'd drop him," Steve answered. "And right now I understand why. I'm terrified."

Eddie smiled as he reached towards them. He grabbed Steve's hand that was beneath her, pulling it so that she rested in his elbow. "There," he announced. "That looks a little more normal. And you won't drop her. She's not super wiggly or anything."

Lucy grabbed at the collar of Steve's shirt, pulling it down. She smiled up at him, all bright eyes and no teeth. A shrieking sort of laugh fell from her open mouth as she studied the new man holding her.

"She's really beautiful, Eddie," Steve said, looking back at her with a similarly wide smile. "She looks just like you."

Eddie felt like he was short circuiting as Steve words hit his ears. Steve had called him beautiful. Well, he'd called Lucy beautiful. Which she was. But he'd also said that she looked like him. Which she did. His mouth felt dry and he swallowed around nothing, willing himself to say something. Say literally anything.

"She's got her mom's nose," he finally settled on, hoping Steve hadn't noticed the way too long pause. "But other than that, I'm afraid the poor girl is all Munson."

Steve shrugged, turning his attention back to Eddie. "There are worse things."

Eddie felt a blush crawl over his cheeks as he averted his eyes. He turned quickly, hoping to hide the pinkness on his cheeks from Steve. He opened a cabinet and took down two plates, setting them on the counter beside the stove.

"Hope ya like hamburger helper," he announced. "Because that's all I know how to make."

"I love it."

Eddie felt his blush deepen as he set the plates on the counter beside the stove and placed the lid over the pot of the generic brown pasta. When he turned back to face them he was almost caught off guard by what he saw. Steve Harrington holding his baby felt like a fever dream. He shook off the unrecognizable feeling in his chest and reached around Steve to retrieve the jar of turkey and potatoes that sat on the counter behind him.

"You hungry, princess?" Eddie asked, shaking the jar in front of her. He set the food on the dining table beside a pink plastic spoon. Steve was impressed by the way he took Lucy from him with one hand, using the other to remove the tray of the secondhand high chair Sarah had given him. Lucy began banging her open palms against the top of the tray as Eddie twisted the lid of the jar. "Be calm, child," he giggled. "She acts like she's never seen food before, but I promise we feed her at least every few days."

Steve smiled, more to himself than to Eddie. Not that Eddie noticed, his attention fully on Lucy and trying to get as much of her food into her mouth as possible. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his hip against the counter as he watched the two. There had been a time in his life that Steve wanted kids. He wanted a whole brood. His grandfather joked that he was going to fill his house to the rafters with baby Harringtons. That idea never panned out. But as he watched Eddie and Lucy, he realized that maybe a house full of babies wasn't what he wanted. Maybe he just wanted one. Just one baby with someone he loved. That would have been enough.

"You can eat if ya want," Eddie said suddenly.

"I'll wait," Steve answered, shifting just slightly as the edge of the countertop dug into his hip. "Would be nicer if we could eat together."

And so Steve just watched. The way Eddie's whole face glowed with a wide smile the entire time he was feeding his daughter made Steve's chest flutter. Lucy's laughter was contagious, he noticed. Anytime Eddie would get the small pink spoon into her mouth without making a mess he would cheer for himself, and Lucy laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. Steve found himself laughing along with her, earning giggles from Eddie anytime he did.

Once Lucy was fed, Eddie sat her in the kitchen sink for a bath. She splashed water all over the counter, giggling anytime she managed to splash water onto her dad. Once she was clean, Eddie laid her in the crib in the living room. He tucked a white stuffed bunny under her arm and kissed his fingers, pressing them to her cheek. He paused for a moment and just watched her little eyes close. Her mouth opened into a wide, soft yawn. She pulled the fluffy bunny closer to her and Eddie was mesmerized for a moment. He was just about to start singing her a lullaby when he remembered that Steve was still in the kitchen, waiting for his own dinner.

Eddie offered a nervous, sorry sort of smile as he came to stand in front of him. Their two plates sat untouched on the counter beside him. Eddie instructed Steve to get forks from a drawer and plated up their dinners. "Grab some drinks," he told Steve, nodding towards the fridge. Steve pulled two Pepsi's from the door of the refrigerator and followed Eddie out the front door and onto the porch.

The two sat beside one another on an old couch that sat on the makeshift deck in front of the small home. Eddie handed Steve his plate, whole Steve sat their forks and drinks between their laps. "Sorry if it's cold" Eddie offered with a shrug.

"It's perfect," Steve answered, taking a heaping bite. And it was. The pair ate in comfortable silence for a few moments. The harsh July heat was starting to lose its edge to a slightly more comfortable early evening cool down. Fireflies danced in the yard and a small dog was yapping somewhere in the distance. It was nice, and Steve let out a small chuckle as he told Eddie just that.

"What?" Eddie smiled, his mouth full of pasta.

"Just, this," Steve shrugged. "Hanging out with you and Luce. Having dinner with someone other than my tv. The domesticity of it all."

"You callin' me a housewife, Harrington?"

"Oh, please," Steve scoffed, pushing around the last few bits of his dinner with his fork. "Like you'd ever be a housewife."

"Every teacher I ever had said I wasn't living up to my potential," Eddie shrugged. "Maybe that's my potential."

Steve's cheeks were beginning to hurt as he laughed again. It had been so long since he'd been around someone like Eddie. Though he knew that there wasn't anyone like Eddie. Not really. The way he seemed to always be smiling, the newly awakened butterflies in his stomach. The ease with which they fell in line with one another was special, Steve thought. Whatever the two of them had had before Eddie left had always been special, though. The only person that had ever come close to it was Robin and even that wasn’t really the same. There had been a moment in time that Steve had believed that he and Eddie could have been happy together. Maybe it was hormones or teenage bravado, he didn’t know. Butv as they sat together, eating hamburger helper while a summer wind blew around them, he couldn’t help but to wonder if he’d been right.

~~~~~

previous part // next part

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Oooh I love this part so much. Steve holding a tiny little baby is just... Ugh. So cute to think about. Thanks for reading part seven! Can't wait to hear what everyone thinks 🥰