#chase too... i guess......... hes lucky to be next to her like this....
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a night out in town.
(commissioned from caffeinyah)
#liya.arts#shepherds of haven#qilan sun#chase trinaeste#qilan is my personal dress up doll and i love putting her in different clothing and hair styles#my gorgeous special princess with 100000 issues#i need to see her in different outfits NOW#chase too... i guess......... hes lucky to be next to her like this....#might be fun to do a more fantasy esque outfit line up one day!#or to get something that looks like the canon outfits in the games#much to consider...
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The Exposition
Kenji Sato x Journalist! Reader
Enemies To Lovers | Forced Proximity | Pining
start Next ->
“I don’t think they’re ready for the fall, had a little, and now she wants more. Told her I gotta make some calls, This just might be one hell of a night”. - The Walls by Chase Atlantic
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The sports section has always been your favorite part of the newspaper. Reading about athletes making history was so inspiring. This is what ignited your interest in sports journalism. You’d get involved in the school newspaper in high school, almost covering all the sports. You were always on a high, but it came crashing down when you entered college. Entering the Daily Bugle as the only female reporter has its downside. Your male peers would always look down on you, trying to discourage you from touching sports. Quoting your editor in chief, “Leave the sports reporting to the men who take it seriously, and report on something simple, like the upcoming musical”. But you were determined to make your mark in the world as a sports journalist.
You were staring at your computer for the last ten minutes trying to figure out the perfect conclusion for the basketball article. Your eyes wondered towards the time on the upper right hand corner.
4:40 pm
“I’ll finish it during english”.
You shut off your laptop and slid it in your bag
Your evening class is on the other side of the college, and unfortunately, you don’t own a car or a scooter so you have to walk 15 minutes from your dorm to your designated building. On your way to your class, you would usually pass by the baseball field, where the baseball teams begins to prep for the season.
While walking by the baseball field, you hear the sound of baseballs being hit by bats, the whistles being blown by the coach and the players yelling at each other to run.
As you continue your walk down, you hear a baseball being whacked and cheers from other players.
“Way to go Sato”! One person cheered.
You see the baseball fly over the fence, but before you could move out of the way, everything went pitch black.
~
Moments later you wake up in a bright, unfamiliar room. Your head was pounding, and a cold pack was sitting on your forehead.
You try to sit up, but you felt too dizzy.
A woman, who you assume was the school medic, came up to you and helped you sit up.
“What happened”? You ask.
“Isn’t it obvious? You got hit with a baseball. You were out for almost 5 hours”. She said.
“Oh”. You look down, feeling embarrassed.
“Young lady, you shouldn’t be walking near the baseball field. Especially when there’s practice going on. You’re lucky it’s just a mild concussion”. The medic lectured you.
“It’s the only way I get to my class”. Then your stomach sinks. You look at the clock.
9:32 pm.
“Fuck, I missed the lecture”! You cussed in your head. And then the realization settles in.
“FUCK I MISSED THE DEADLINE”! You groaned while you bury your head in your hands. You can kiss your journalism dreams goodbye.
“I don’t care what excuse you have. I swear, you college kids are so careless. As soon as you’re able to, get out of my office and try to find a ride home”. She puts another ice pack onto your head and leaves you to wallow in your misery.
“Well, isn’t she delightful”. An unfamiliar voice says.
You look up to see a 6 ft tall guy with raven hair leaning against the door frame.
“Dorthy is usually snappy at this point. I wouldn’t take it personally”. He enters the room and approaches you.
“Can I help you”? You ask
“I wanted to apologize to you, for accidentally hitting you with that baseball”. He scratched his neck.
“Oh, so that was you”. You glared at the guy while fixing the ice pack on your head.
“Yeah, I guess my strength was too much”. He laughed, trying to lighten the mood. You were still unamused.
“It’s a little late, shouldn’t you be heading home”?
“I wanted to know if you were okay”.
“Aww how thoughtful”.
“I’m Kenji. Kenji Sato. Baseball rookie today, baseball legend tomorrow”. He brags.
“Kenji… aren’t you the same Kenji that scored 5 home runs in a row at that one game against Florida state two years ago”?
He smirks. “So you’re a fan”.
“Not really, but I remember it made headlines for the school paper . You’re pretty impressive for a freshman”.
“For a freshman huh”? He laughs.
“Hey, it’s a compliment pretty boy”. You lean back into the chair.
“You know, I never got your name pretty girl”.
“Y/N. Y/N L/N”. You extend your hand and Kenji shook it.
“Well Y/N. I want to make this up to you. Y’know, I haven’t had dinner yet. You maybe want to join me?”
“Sure. What do you have in mind”?
~
“Wait, so that was you who broke the dean’s window”? Your eyes widened.
“No one knows aside from my buddies on the team. Consider it an inside scoop”. Kenji winks.
The waiter sets down a pepperoni pizza down on the table. The smell of the sizzling meat and cheesy goodness reached both of your noses, making both of your mouths water.
You guys ate all of the pizza in under five minutes. More of Kenji eating everything considering his metabolism. A few minutes later, he pushed the dish aside and leaned back in his chair.
“So Y/N, why journalism? Specifically sports journalism”? He interogates.
“I used to be apart of the school newspaper back in high school. Something about watching the games and interviewing athletes has always peaked my interest. If you ask me, it’s better than reporting on politics or school plays”. You sipped on your water.
“Ahhh, so you’re nosy”.
“Y’know if it weren’t for us being nosy, you wouldn’t get your 15 minutes of fame”. You say, making Kenji chuckle
“So, any articles you’re working on”?
“Well, I wrote one on basketball team but I missed the deadline because somebody knocked me out with a baseball”.
Kenji shrunk down into his seat. “Sorry about that. Really”.
“Don’t worry, I usually don’t hold grudges.”
“Well look on the bright side, you got a new story”. He says.
“Aspiring journalist gets knocked out by the famed Kenji Sato”.
You laughed. “As much as that would make a really great story, nobody at that the Daily Bugle takes me seriously”. You sighed, playing with the straw inside your cup.
“How come”? He raised his eye brow.
“According to my editor, and to all the men at the daily bugle, “leave the sports to the men”. You quote.
“That sounds pretty toxic. You deserve a chance to show the world how crazy talented you are with words. You deserve better than that place you’re in Y/N”.
“As much as I want to, I’m willing to stay. I’m very determined to prove myself. Even if I have to get my hands dirty”.
“You are persistent”.
“I prefer ambitious”.
“I like ambitious women”.
“Sure you do”.
~
For the last few weeks, you kept seeing Kenji. He would walk you to your classes, bring you coffee when you had a bad day at the Daily Bugle. Whenever he didn’t have baseball practice, you two would either go out for dinner or hang out at your dorm. There was something about his company that never made you feel lonely.
You came to one of Kenji’s games. Not as a reporter, but as a supporter. Despite being a little sad that the editor will never let you write for the sports section, you showed up for Kenji.
“And here comes number 7, right on the bat”. The announcer says as he walked up to the home plate.
You watched in concentration as he got into position. Everyone’s eyes were on him, hoping he would bring them another win. The pitcher throws the ball and Kenji knocks the ball out of the park.
“AND ITS ANOTHER GRAND SLAM BY KENJI SATO! GIVING THE BUGLES ANOTHER WIN”! The announcer shouts into the microphone.
You cheered the loudest for Kenji as he ran through all of the bases. He made eye contact with you and winked at you, making you blush a bit.
~
You were leaning against the wall of the locker room, waiting for Kenji to come out. All of the baseball players were outside cheering and screaming like animals, celebrating another win.
“I didn’t expect you to come”. You hear Kenji say. He walked up to you, his duffle bag in one arm, and his helmet in another.
“I’m an aspiring sports journalist. Of course I’d show up”. You walk up to him.
“You played well today”.
“Thanks”
You and Kenji walk out of the stadium
“So, any plans after this”?
“Well”… You began to think. “I was thinking about heading back to my dorm, curl up in bed and watch TV”.
“Damn, I was planning on asking you if you wanted to come back to my place, but if it’s that important to you, then who am I to stop you”.
“Well, that also doesn’t sound like a bad idea. But shouldn’t you be with your team, celebrating”? You gestured to the group of men screaming like chimpanzees.
“I don’t usually go out with the team. Win or loose”. He puts his helmet on and walks over to his bike.
“Wow, didn’t take you as an introvert”.
Kenji turns in the ignition on his bike.
“Are you coming or not”?
~
You were at the kitchen in Kenji’s apartment fixing him a grilled cheese and popping a bottle of wine as a reward for Kenji’s hard work. As you set the grilled cheese on the plate, Kenji immediately grabs it and takes a bite.
“Wait, it’s still”- But before you could warn him, the burning sensation has already hit Kenji’s tongue. He yelps at the sudden burn. Tears well in the corner of his eye as he throws the grilled cheese back onto the paper plate.
“You should’ve waited for it to cool down”. You scolded.
“Hey, I’m just really hungry. Cut me some slack will you”? He says, drinking his wine.
“Awww are you crying”? You notice the tear threatening to slide off his face.
“What? I never cry”. He crosses his arms.
“It’s okay to cry every once in a while”. You laugh as you swipe the tear off with your thumb. He leans into your touch as his onyx eyes fixated onto your (eye color) orbs. He leans closer, both of your faces inches apart from each other. And out of the blue, Kenji’s lips landed onto yours. You kiss back, tasting the red wine aftertaste. He lifts you up on the counter, and you wrap your legs around him. The air around you gets hotter, as it turns into a male out session. The next thing you know, he carries you into his room and shuts the door behind him.
~
You woke up with the sun hitting your eyes. Realizing that you were not in your own room and not wearing any clothes, the panic begins to settles in. You tried but there was a strong grip around your waist You turn around to see Kenji sleeping peacefully next to you.
“Oh no, this is bad”. You panicked. If your peers at the Daily Bugle hear about you sleeping with an athlete, they’ll never take you seriously.
You slowly got out of bed, trying your best not to wake up Kenji. As you got out of his room, you were attempting to put your 3 inch heeled boots back on, accidentally kicking the wall in the process.
“Shit”. You muttered while putting on the other boot.
You quickly slipped out of Kenji’s apartment without waking him up, already arranging your ride home.
While waiting outside the apartment building, you remembered what Kenji said, about you deserve something better than the Daily Bugle. Kenji was there for you and now you’re just leaving him. Screw what everyone thought of you. You liked Kenji, and it’s clear that he might feel the same. You went back up to his apartment. When you were about to knock, you noticed the door was slightly open. Peeping through the crack, you see Kenji talking to another guy that was probably his roommate.
“Dude, what happened to you last night? You totally ditched the team again”! The guy asks.
“Let’s just say I scored another one last night”. Said Kenji.
“Oh shiii, Kenji you dog”! His roomate laughs. “Who was it? Was it Tiffany from sports psychology���?
“No”.
“Rosalie from the dance squad”?
“No. Hint: she’s apart of the Daily Bugle”.
It took his roommate a minute, then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
“SHIT YOU DID NOT”.
“I did”.
“You do realize people look down on stuff like this, it’s like an integrity thing”.
“I know, which is why that scores me double”.
“But if word goes out, the coach is gonna have your head”
“It’s not like anyone has to know, anyways she ran off before I could officially walk her out. I wasn’t too attached to her anyway”. Said Kenji.
“But don’t you still care about her”? His roomate asks, a bit of hope glimmered in your eyes.
“Pfft no, she’s some that I accidentally injured. I take her out for pizza one time and she still thinks I’m taking her seriously”. He laughs.
You stood there dumbfounded. The whole time Kenji was just using you to increase his body count?
Before you could hear any more of the conversation, you left the apartment building. You entered the taxi, tears threatening to spill. To think that a guy, let alone an athlete, actually respected you. You were stupid to believe that you had someone care about you.
A fire ignited in your belly that day. You were determined to prove all of the men wrong, to prove Kenji wrong. Even if it meant hurting him, and other people to get yourself on top.
⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺
Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated!!
A/N: I had a posting schedule for the week, but due to wifi issues, posting will be every 1-2 days until I get back to the US
⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺
Tag List:
@imconfusedbutok @deadbydad-writes
@introvertthief @rdjsprincess
@boomboom-tanjiro2019 @moyadorogaya
@holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @lovingyeet
@ofichan @nina-from-317 @lunaryasha
@kocho-catt @scarsw1fe @aphroditis-world
⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺
#kenji sato x reader#kenji sato x y/n#kenji sato x you#ken sato x reader#ken sato x y/n#ken sato x you#ultraman x reader#ultraman x y/n#ultraman x you#ken sato ultraman#ultraman netflix#ultraman#ultraman rising#ultraman2024#emi ultraman#ami wakita#ami wakita ultraman#netflix#kenji sato#ken sato#enemies to friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#pining#forced proximity#Spotify
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What if the reader is Randal's twin sister that is always calm and quiet but yet more intimidating than the rest of the ivory household and is always abusing or scaring Sebastian?
It's just something I made up in my head! 😭
Only if you have the chance to do so, of course!
Hey I know I disappeared but I'm going to break my own rule to give you all content
*Reader implied to be female. Also this will not be a fic, just those headcanons thingy
Being Randal's More Intimidating Twin Sister;
Goodness, Randal would never have a boring day if he decides to watch your torture sessions daily
He definitely doesn't like how quiet you are but Nyen and Nyon are the same and he doesn't have a not-fun day watching them so he lets it be. But he's definitely forcing you everywhere with him. You are his twin after all and two is better than one as the humans say!
Clothing wise I'd say a Japanese school girl outfit with blazer and wearing gloves to match Randal's outfit. Honestly it doesn't matter what you want to wear as long as the colour is inverted of Randal's. White outfit and black gloves. You wear glasses but most often contact lenses. The feeling of them intrigued you but glasses are also usually a hindrance in your day to day activities.
The day when Luther gifted the both of you a human pet, you are ecstatic. Your face doesn't show but Randal knows and he's ecstatic as electric as well. Both of you have the dynamic of Maud and Pinkie that's why he can tell. The day after that is the day Sebastian the human pet learns true fear.
You are unnerving and rightfully so. Especially when you keep chasing after him with those garden shears. If Randal has scissors, you have bigger scissors. You like to snip snip Sebastian's body parts. Hair, legs, hand, you get the point. You won't necessarily kill him on purpose, only by accident but Luther will stop you when Sebastian's at the brink of death. Which he wished for more than escaping after weeks upon weeks of torture. Too bad Randal is enjoying this too much which encourages your behaviour.
More often than not, Luther had to tell you to clean up your mess after you finish your fun activity. He doesn't encourage it but he doesn't stop you as well because in his words, who is he to stop his little sister discovering her hobbies and enjoying them.
Two peas in a pod the both of you. It doesn't matter how different you both are, you're still twins. If anyone knows anything about twins, is that somehow they have a deeper bond than with anyone else around them. If you mess with one of them, you have to deal with the other or together if you wanna get messy.
Nyen won't say it out loud obviously but he much prefers you over Randal if we're talking about violence and perfect fit to be the next heir if it ever comes to that. I mean obviously because we're speaking the American cat here. If he's 'lucky', you might spar him one on one. Nyon on the other hand definitely avoids you like the plague. Not a fighter and definitely does not want to be your next experiment but too bad for him, you're still above him in ranks.
Satoru won't favour you more than Randal but he'll definitely ask for your help to make him 'real' to which you happily complied. Remember that spider girl in Vol.2 and Avalona Mercury? Yeah they're your besties. Don't ask how but they just naturally are. Unless you're someone who seeks to pursue a relationship with one of them which I guess go off. No one really cares.
Known as well as the ratmen's worst nightmare. They wish to never come across you ever or else they're better off as a taxidermy head on top of a fireplace. Even if there's a slight chance they'll be let off uninjured, there's a high chance they'll end up getting owned or dead.
Wednesday Addams kinnie I just realised but hey maybe that's what you wanted.
Randal would definitely dragged you into his own mess by making you dress up as him and take the blame. Sometimes you let him do whatever he wants, other times he ends up bloodied.
Ranfren Characters thoughts on You(ooc);
Randal: "You've met my twin?! Oo! Oo! How are they?! Did you have fun with her?! She's really fun to play with especially with those shears of hers!" Excited to rant about his twin. Get comfortable or not because he can go on and on and on.
Luther: "Ah yes. She's quite a delight isn't she? I just wish she wouldn't leave such a bloody mess everywhere and anywhere she wants but oh well~ I can't stop her from enjoying what she loves doing." Dismissive yet acknowledged. Just don't get blood on the new carpet or curtains and you're good like you're avoiding angering your mother too much but brother instead.
Nyen: "Would love to fight against once. With her next in line, everything will definitely turn for the worst but it'll be very fun." Nothing else to say except he gives more respects to you than to Randal but won't admit it.
Nyon: Like I said, avoids you like the plague. It got to the point where he can't come up with an opinion on you because his mind goes automatically to 'avoid her alert'. That's not to say he hates you, he could never hate his master's family, he just rather not be under your torture sessions.
Sebastian: "Please don't tell me she's behind me." Shivering scared little thing. He likes his limbs to be intact 24/7 of course so even by the mention of you have his thoughts rapidly flashed the flight or fight instinct. But it's only flight no fight. He's not that bold.
Bonus! Tsukada Satoru: "Randal's twin is nice. She helps me when I needed her most especially when it comes to hurting. Glad to see her interacting well with those two." He's too much focused on Randal to care but since you're Randal's other half, his literal twin, he has to care enough about you.
#quite literally having an exam rn#ranfren#ranfren x reader#x reader#randal’s friends#randal ivory#nyen#ranfren randal#sincerely sewer rat
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Okay, so you know how when you travel a lot you usually have that one random, mostly pointless item that just stays in your suitcase for no apparent reason? I present to you: Team Red's Random Suitcase Stuff!
CARMEN: A deck of playing cards, kept in her carry-on. A pickpocket's hands always like to be busy, and Carmen busies hers with a deck, just shuffling them over and over, dealing herself a round of solitaire if there's time and a convenient table (and yes, she cheats even when playing with herself; it drives Player nuts because there's literally no reason to do that!). Or, if the sibs or Shadowsan are up for losing, a game of poker or blackjack or what have you. She taught herself a couple of tricks, too, a simple oil-and-water or force, and has rightfully earned herself the title of Really Cool Sorceress among the kids in her mother's orphanage.
IVY: A car hobbyist magazine. It's an old one; she's read it cover to cover, even the boring stories, and it's practically falling apart, but she hates not having *any* reading material more. She keeps meaning to replace it, but just hasn't gotten around to it.
ZACH: A bag of cheese puffs "for emergencies." It's probably expired, but, eh, everyone knows those dates are just suggestions.
PLAYER (during his gap year traveling with Carmen): A Gameboy Advanced complete with game cartridge (always charged; he's no slacker). Yeah, he has some games on his phone and knows how to pull up Pac-Man and Minesweeper on Google, but there's just something about a Gameboy that makes it better for unwinding in the hotel. Plus Zach and Ivy love taking turns on it; many a hotel night has been spent with the four of them (because Carmen's not about to be left out) piled on a bed crowding around whoever's turn it is and providing commentary.
SHADOWSAN: Nothing. He is orderly and disciplined and knows how to keep his belongings in their proper places; he does not have anything like that.
(he's lying, because in a little-used pocket there may be a polaroid photo of Carmen, Zach, and Ivy from that time Ivy found a camera in the closet under the warehouse stairs and wanted to see if it worked. If fell in there completely by accident, and he's been meaning to ask Ivy if she wants it but....well, he's been busy. He'll say something the next time he sees her...if it comes up.)
BONUS:
JULIA: A book. Specifically a (dense) nonfiction work about English medieval life encompassing the early, high, and late middle ages. She's read it a few times, but in her defense it's a very compelling read.
("Bah! Of course you would have a book, Miss Argent, filled with facts and things." "What's wrong with a book?" "It is predictable. Now, my suitcase: one would never guess I'm carrying-")
CHASE: Mints.
("These have an expiry date of 1997." "So? It's my lucky roll." "That is over twenty years ago. I'm not sure you should keep these. They can't possibly be safe to eat." "Always paranoid, Miss Argent. They are perfectly fine, see- MON DIEU!!!")
#carmen sandiego 2019#carmen sandiego#shadowsan#zach#ivy#chase devineaux#julia argent#player bouchard#my writing#in which i write
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Just Because You Cannot Have Her.
Conrad Fisher x fem!reader
Summery: You’ve always been in love with the oldest Fisher. Having grown up to be his practical twin, it was almost impossible not to. When he makes it clear he likes someone else, you try to move on. And it almost works.(inspired by that one scene between Laurie and Amy in Little Women!)
Angst to fluff to angst to fluff again(it’s a lot.)
To me, he wasn’t only the sun. He was the moon and the stars. He was the smell of the fresh grass and the sound of the beach. He was all of my favorites things. And to him, I was his best friend.
Conrad and I grew up together. Our mothers all going to college. My mother rooming with Laurel and Susannah, creating the foundation of a new friendship. One that led us to Boston right beside her and the summer long vacations only I would attend during the summer as my moms work grew more demanding. Susannah lived next door to us my whole life. A pretty house on a more quiet road in Massachusetts. The houses mere feet apart. Windows reflecting each other.
Nights were spent the three of us each school year, playing in the garden with sticks as swords and watching cheesy movies before color had reached the big screen. Just me, Jeremiah and Conrad. All year long. All day long.
I still remember the day we figured it out, Conrad and I. How my window was directly facing his. Same floor, same height. How if we tried hard enough, we could communicate late at night and never be apart.
Jeremiah was an important part of our trio, but as they always say, there’s a duo in every trio. That was me and Conrad. It was obvious, the way we sat closer together. My head on his chest and his legs thrown over my lap. How by some force, no matter the scenario, it was always him and me against it. No matter Jeremiah’s efforts, it seemed that he could never quiet catch up. He wasn’t mad by it, he understood even then that what we had was special, but he also had a right to want that. To want that force that constantly seemed to keep Conrad and I intertwined.
And with the knowledge of that force and the closeness of it all, how could I not fall for the boy that was my best friend? My everything. Him with his blonde hair and boyish grin, eyes crinkling and shoulders hunched. He understood my jokes, even when they weren’t that good and yet, he laughed at each one. Because I was the one telling them. We flowed continuously, like a perfect line drawn on a piece of paper.
But I guess that force wasn’t as strong as I believed. Because while it had pulled me to him in every way a person can be pulled, Conrad seemed to have been left behind. Unaffected by it all. Able to fall for everyone else around him while I remained trained to him like a puppy eager to gain his affection.
Belly and Steven were an added part of our group. Each summer they’d travel down to the beach, stay just down the hall from us and enjoy the same games and closeness I was lucky enough to have all year.
Yet, with her youngness, in some way I still got everyone to myself. If it were to be a house party or a late night rendezvous, it was always the three of us and occasionally Steven.
Last summer was different. To me, to her. To everyone. Belly changed. Like the seasons or the tide, Belly lost her braces and ditched the glasses. Hair flowing behind her like a movie scene. A character straight from a love story. I always saw her as beautiful. Always believed she had the looks and personality to make any boy chase her, leaving a trail of drool behind. But now, everyone else could see it too. Conrad could see it too.
And that summer, he spent it stuck to her hip like glue. Leaving me colder and more alone than I’d ever been in my entire life.
I had been forgotten like nothing ever happened between us. Like we hadn’t come up with our own way of conversation through the windows. Like we hadn’t cried over the notebook or sat on the floor playing Barbie’s until our knees hurt and our back were sore. Like we didn’t know the ins and outs of each other. To be thrown to the side like a distraction felt like a punch to the gut. But the affection that Belly gained from Conrad while I lost everything was a bullet, killing me slowly while I bled all over Susannah’s white bed sheets.
Summer came and went. Slower than I wished. But that’s what happens when the world crumbles around you. Losing your best friend, and also the love of your life to the girl you’d happily consider a younger sister. Watching her get the attention I’d always wanted. His lips ghosting over hers and his hands tracing her hips like she was art. All while my hands held themselves and my lips were bitten raw.
The fall wasn’t much better. College was hard. So far away from home, and even farther from Jere and Conrad. I could count down the days until summer. I wouldn’t have Conrad, I accepted that. But I would always have Jeremiah. The boy who was always my younger self. My other best friend who stuck by me as he watched Conrad rip pieces of my heart out each day without any knowledge of what he was doing. He comforted me on the days that I seemed to be nothing more than a distant memory to Conrad. He sat with me both in person and on the phone for hours, catching up and doing the things I had only ever done with Conrad.
I went to NYU, much to everyone’s dismay. I’d sworn on Brown. Going somewhere with Conrad to stay together. Two peas in a pod. He’d looked disappointed at my decision, but he could’ve seen it coming. With him no longer wanting me, it felt wrong to follow him around. To stay stuck to another woman’s boyfriend, if that’s what you could call them.
Conrad and Belly were never exclusive. They never set clear boundaries of their relationship. They flirted and teased. Played around and fought, but they never stuck completely. Deep down, Belly had a crush brewing for Cam Cameron, and anyone who wasn’t an idiot could see the blush spread across her cheeks whenever Jeremiah walked into the room. Conrad, to him it felt like Belly was it. He had no other women around him. He stopped flirting freely at bonfires and rarely went out without her. He was more set on a true relationship. Knowing that is what hurt the most. So, I left. Not wanting to stay in a place I did not feel welcome.
Again, the seasons passed. Changing like the people within it. And finally, within the snow and the rain, I came home to a familiar neighborhood. My luggage in the trunk of an even more familiar red Jeep. The Fishers and I were reunited, almost fully. Susannah slept peacefully in the back seat, head leaned up against the window, pen laid dainty in between her slim fingers adorned with beautiful jewels. Jeremiah was driving, a new smile on his face as the summer sun shined down on us. Meanwhile, I sat passenger side, sock clad feet up on the dash and a pack of gummy worms on my lap. Feeding a few to Jere every couple seconds. It was perfect. An atmosphere that was light and gentle. The only missing piece was my best friend in the whole world, Conrad Fisher.
He had decided to drive up by himself this year, having been away at Brown and getting the chance to head off early. It made perfect sense. But the idea that our annual car rides were no longer existing, ached. I had already lost him in the summer, I could accept that. But to lose him year round? It was a new pain I couldn’t even think about dealing with. So I took it as it was, a perfect excuse.
“You okay?” His voice was smooth, warm. I let my eyes flicker from the side mirror. My face turned to look at the tan skinned boy next to me.
Jeremiah was always beautiful. He had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. One that reflected the clearest summer day I could wish for. Yet, in the lightness, they also held depth. Sparkling with impulse and enthusiasm. His smile was infectious. Bright white in a way you could only dream it to be in the movies. Something that no one would believe to be a true description until they saw it. He had curly hair that wasn’t quite brunette, but not light enough to be blonde.
I still remembered the day he ran to me crying. He’d always hated his curls. He longed to have the straighter hair that his older brother had. He always looked up to Conrad. In ways so extreme that he wanted to be just like him. Conrad had told him that his sandwich crust made his hair curly. It was funny until it wasn’t. I spent the whole day styling Jeremiah’s hair until it was sticky with hair product and styled in his own way of perfection. He looked almost humorous with his usually wild hair all done up, but handsome none the less. He had really grown into himself through the years, it was hard not to notice him.
The memory made me smile, only the sound of a far out car horn shaking me back to the present.
“Just really excited to be back. College kicked my ass.” My smile was tight lipped, but genuine. Jeremiah returned the look, sighing as he looked out to the road ahead, taking in the familiar scenery.
“Me too.” I caught his eyes quickly flick over to mine, a smile still spread on his cheeks. A blush on mine. He was one of my best friends. My younger self. I shouldn’t have been so flustered to have been caught admiring the boy, but for some reason the heat bubbled up in my stomach anyways. I needed air, a sharp intake of it getting stuck in my throat as I felt a warmth wrap around my hand.
His larger hand laid comfortably in mine, squeezing innocently and shaking it as if to symbolize excitement. Yet, in that moment, the innocent gesture felt more intimate than a pure platonic feeling. Again, the heat rose to my cheeks, and the butterflies made me feel uneasy. But I brushed it off as over tiredness.
When we pulled into the driveway, I noticed all the other cars already parked. We had been the last to arrive, another odd experience as we were always the first.
Quickly, the families raced out the door to greet us. Steven and Belly shoving off each other to race to Jere and I. Belly got to me first, her arms wrapping around my body so hard I stumbled back at her force.
“I’m so glad you’re here! I missed you!” Her words were muffled by my shoulder, head buried into my skin like I’d slip away if she didn’t hold on to me tight.
“I missed you more, Bells. I have no one to watch all these movies with me when I’m away.” I motioned to the bag I had stashed away in the back seat next to were Susannah was once sitting. Belly pulled away in excitement, head peaking over my shoulder to inspect the stack of old discs peaking out from the bag. Her attention back on me as she stepped away.
“Look at you, all grown up.” I held her face between my hands, eyes squinting to fully admire her beauty. She truly changed last summer, having lost her braces and glasses. But somehow, the girl managed to get even more stunning in the passing year, proving to everyone she wasn’t so little anymore. She brushed me off, scoffing playfully before motioning to me.
“Look at me? Look at you! College did wonders!” I shrugged off the complement, not really seeing any changes.
It was true though, I had grown in college. Always a late bloomer, my chest had gone up a size. My wild hair was more tamed and my lips reddened. I changed from that young graduate who was sworn into baggy college shirts and swimsuit bottoms into someone who didn’t truly mind tighter shirts with half sleeves or jean shorts that were slightly scandalous. I had grown into a more confident version of myself while away from the crutches of comfort back home.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught Conrad walking towards us, his eyes avoidant of Belly and glued to me, the first time I truly felt his gaze in almost a full year. He made a B-line to me, smile plastered across his face before Jeremiah intercepted his welcome. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed, even if I had convinced myself all feelings for him were in the past. That I could move on.
I felt Stevens arm loop around my shoulders, “Blah, blah, blah. Y/n, I think you’ve had enough time to catch up. You know what time it is?” She shared a look, my eyes catching Jeremiah’s, his looking to Conrad’s.
“Belly flop!” I was quick to declare, Belly’s eyes widening. She was quick to try to make an escape, but not quiet quick enough.
She ran right into Jeremiah. Him and Conrad restraining her arms while Steven and I latched onto her legs. We rushed over to the pool, excited to toss her in yet another year. She screamed and thrashed, only to be met with the fate of the bottom of the pool.
The water splashed onto our legs, her body submerging underneath. I let myself fall into Jeremiah with an excited laugh. His arms wrapped around my body almost protectively, head tilted down to look at me. It was inviting and all so warm. Summer had officially begun.
The beach house was lively and bustling with people running from room to room. Trying to complete each thing that needed to be done to fully enjoy the summer. Susannah and I seemed to be the only two in place. Even Laurel rushing around to help out.
The kitchens surface was layered in fruits and flour tossed around it. The evidence of the crime scene on our faces. Powder smears across cheeks and a red ring over lining my lips from what could’ve been cherry or strawberry juice.
Susannah had sworn that the dessert she had been planning to make would taste so much better from scratch. She was right, like always. Her baked goods always were, and the small cakes in all various shapes and sizes were just as delicious as promised. Now the only thing left to show was the plate filled with the fresh pastries and the mess to prove we really had made them.
We laughed about it, when stepping back to observe our damage, a hand going to her forehead. Both in humor for the situation and some stress.
“What exploded in here?” We turned on our heals to the voice, laced in shock and amusement. The matching expression belonging to the boy I couldn’t seem to escape all day. Jeremiah.
“We made pastries!” Even my best jazz hands couldn’t hide the fact that everything was everywhere. Not even my best smile could hide the small regret I felt for making it with Susannah.
Sometimes, I believed Jeremiah was a psychic. As I could’ve seen the stress on Susannah’s perfect face, it was like he could simply feel it. With one small flick of his hands, he nodded knowingly, always wanting to be a help.
“Mom, why don’t you relax. I’m sure Y/n and I can handle a little mess.” We exchanged a glance. I nodded frantically, wanting to help out Susannah in every way possible.
“Are you sure?” She sounded more relieved than anything.
“Yes, of course. Now go, watch a movie or read a book. Paint! Why don’t you paint!” I shooed her away, helping Jere get her to settle in for the day.
The room was silent as she left, her presence only known because of what she had left behind. I almost laughed at how messy a grown woman could be, but I wasn’t any better, so who was I to judge?
“You really know how to make an entrance.” Jeremiah mused, eyeing me up and down while lifting the trash can over to the edge of the island top.
“What can I say? I’m an artist.” Picking up some flour from the countertop, I tossed it on his face, holding my hands up in a picture motion, as if I was trying to get the right framing for my work.
“Perfect!” I joked, a playful smirk on Jeremiah’s face.
We were quick in cleaning the kitchen. All appliances already washed and put away as we used them. So all there was to do was to clean whatever didn’t make it into the pans and bowls. It looked just like new, shining like it had before our baking process.
Again, I stepped back to admire our work, only this time, Jeremiah admired it with me. Looking at each other, I felt sure we had done the best job that could’ve been done.
“I think we make a good team. Absolutely spotless.” Looking at me up and down, it became apparent again that even as clean as the kitchen was, I needed to change my shirt.
“Shit.” I pulled the bottom of the material out, inspecting the spots of dust that scattered all over it. Frowning, I flattened it back out, ready to mock myself for a joke.
Jeremiah’s face didn’t change though, still casting that same smile that seemed to always be lazily stretched across his features. His hand found my skin for the second time that day. Only it didn’t wrap around my fingers in an embrace. Instead, he lifted his hand to my face. Thumb pressed to my lips, he smeared away the bottom of my cherry-strawberry ring that was beginning to stain.
Again, the heat rose and I felt almost fluttery at the closeness of it all. The intimacy of his actions.
“I like the red lip thing, by the way. Suits you.” With that he pulled away, thumb brought up between his own and sucking off the juice gathered across the tip.
He walked away like nothing had happened, while I stood there, red in the face and stuck on what had just happened. The boy I had always turned away in hopes that Conrad would chase after me like I had to him, was openly flirting with me. And I didn’t mind it.
Maybe it was the fact that I was lonely without the burning love for Conrad to fill my heart, or maybe it was the new found bond we formed over the last year. Which ever it was, it was leading me straight to my best friends arms, whether I liked it or not.
The sun rose high above the horizon, casting an unbearable heat across Cousins. It was the beginning of July, officially today. Just a week after everyone had piled into their designated vehicles and arrived to their home away from home, the one place we could all be together constantly.
To say that the week had been weird would be an understatement. I had fully prepared to be ignored by Conrad all summer, my heart slowly closing itself off, finally healing from his sour attitude from the previous year and finding it in myself to move on. However, to my surprise, he didn’t. No, within the first twenty four hours, Conrad was banging on my door. Demanding we go early morning surfing. Something we hadn’t done in years.
Conrad first proposed the activity when we turned fourteen. Just old enough to go out unsupervised during the day. At first I had been skeptical, unsure of how great my surfing abilities were in comparison with Conrad’s. At how well I could get back above the water if I were to fall. But Conrad always had a way of convincing me otherwise. Like the angel and devils sat on my shoulder, he could sway me whichever way he wanted. It was a power only Conrad had ever held over me. Something that was not only endearing, but scary. Something I vowed to not allow anyone else to have over me.
It became a tradition for three years straight. Waking up early for at least half of the weekdays to either play around in the water or float for hours. Burning and getting more delirious by the hour. Sharing anything and everything with each other. Something I held close to me, in those years.
By eighteen, Conrad had turned moody, starting what could be summed up as last summer in a nutshell. His ignorance towards my feelings and his inability to care about the ones he did know about ending the tradition by mid July. I used to pray he would knock on my doors to go again, but the knock never came. And as any sensible person would, I stopped pretending like it was possible to happen again.
But maybe I had been wrong, seeing as Conrad was once again, knocking at my door.
The waves had been particularly calm that morning, barely rocking the boards up and down. We decided to just float along the waters that day, the air quiet and calm.
“I missed this.” His voice cut through the silence like a knife. I raised my head from the water, where my hands had been making shapes along the surface.
“So why’d you stop doing it?” The words came out harsher than intended. After all, I was enjoying our time together. I had missed him terribly. After all, while having a younger me around was soothing, having your other half was so much more fulfilling in some ways.
I guess it was the pent up frustrations I hadn’t known I had until that moment. The anger that was caused by the fact that Conrad had me. He had me in the palm of his hands and deep down he knew he did. He knew I would go wherever he went. The poor idiot unable to see his disinterest in me. He had walked out, and I had let him back in. Just like every fight ever, he would come back begging and I would crumble immediately.
I decided then I could be his friend, I always would. It was something that was irreversible. I would let him back into my heart as my best friend, but it ended there. I refused to let him back in romantically. Something that was strange to know. Something I never dreamed of happening.
Sure the feelings were still there, I believed they always would be, but I would no longer act on them. And hopefully I could learn to love another.
Conrad fell quiet again after that. Not knowing what to say. Anything, everything fell short.
“I’m sorry, Y/n/n. I’ve been such an asshole to you. I was just, scared of everything and not where I should’ve been last summer. I shouldn’t have taken out my issues on you. I shouldn’t have ignored you. If I could take it all back I would. I miss my other half.” It was genuine, each word out of his mouth. My heart beat faster with the idea that Conrad had phrased it, “other half” instead of, “best friend” because he held some sort of feelings for me. But my logical half shut that idea down as quick as it happened, and nothing came of it.
In the evening, I had been playing volleyball in the pool with Belly. Having been a retired varsity player, it was always fun to get competitive with her. Diving into the water and scraping our feet on the bottom of the pool. It was messy but fun.
With it being played just us for awhile, Belly jumped at the idea to have Jeremiah and Steven join us. The pair having walked outside unaware to the intense battle going on in their swim trunks, they were quickly recruited to our teams.
The usual teams were me and Steven, our competitive nature making us a powerhouse against the usual Belly and Jeremiah. Who were just as good but lacked the same fire. Without hesitation, they jumped into the water, calling dibs on their teams.
“Alright I call y/n!” Jere was quick, his sprint slowed to a hop in the waist deep water, arms wrapped around my frame in a tight hug.
Belly scoffed.
“What’s wrong with being on my team?” She demanded to know, her tone dripping with playfulness.
Jeremiah rolled his eyes.
“No offense, Bells. But I want to win for once.” She stuck her tongue out sourly, Steven shooting me daggers, ready to destroy us.
While Jeremiah’s excuse was reasonable, his lingering touches and constant banter with me made it more apparent he had other reasons to be on my team. The way his hands held onto the ball just a moment longer when handing the ball to me to serve over the net, just to brush against my fingers or the way his body was never too far from mine. It was all so flirtatious, the familiar fluttery feeling returning.
In the end, we had won, much to Stevens dismay. It was a close game, but ultimately he had lost control of the ball, causing a hard loss for Belly. The pair fought innocently while we relished in our newly earned bragging rights. Jeremiah’s arms wrapped around me again, only to lift me from the water and spin us around to celebrate. All the new closeness was unusual, but for some reason, again I found myself unable to push it away. And the more he did it, the more I wanted him to keep flirting with me.
Maybe it was the attention, something I had always wanted, or maybe it was something new blossoming between us. But it was good and it was sweet. Something I hadn’t known before.
By the end of the week it seemed my days were split into fractions. My mornings taken up my Conrad, our bodies laid along the beach and our cheeks red with the sun. Muffins runs long and hilarious each time we drove off to collect a batch together. Conrad insisting Steven wouldn’t mind if he ate the last blueberry one and being wrong each time, resulting in the scramble to get more. In the afternoons I found myself devoted to Jeremiah. All his activities he wanted to do, he had somehow managed to rope me into doing with him. Whether it be running or swimming. Painting or just talking, I was there beside him. My eyes stuck to his like glue. And by the time night fell, I would be happily tucked under a blanket, Susannah and Laurel on one side and Belly squishing against my other as we watched the sappiest movies we could find and played the longest board games in the closet. Summer felt like summer again, and my heart was finally mending.
In my healing, it was like I had lost sight of the cause of the heartbreak. My head too stuck in the clouds that was the regaining of Conrad’s company and Jeremiah’s unrelenting interest in me to remember why the healing was necessary.
It seemed to have been over, this summer. The way Conrad avoided her more than usual. The way that the only times they were really together was when we were all in each other’s presence. But I would never really know as I am not them.
It was stupid to get so upset so late into the summer. Over something I should’ve seen coming. Something that had already came, just wasn’t as apparent. The moon was high and the moms were already settled in for the movie night. The blanket pulled up to their chins and popcorn buttery and still steaming.
Laurel had asked if I could go find Belly, not wanting to start without the person who adored these nights the most. Without thinking, I agreed. Why wouldn’t I? She was my little sister, in some ways. Someone who I refused to do the tradition without.
But god, I wish I hadn’t. I could’ve spared myself the heartbreak.
Conrad had Belly in his arms. Holding her loosely, letting her drift off without a care. All while his lips were on top of hers. Pressing into them with such force, such desire it made me sick. I had sworn to not let him back into my heart in that way, and I hadn’t. But the old feeling would always be there, and it would hurt each time he broke my heart like it was the first.
I wasn’t interested in the movie anymore. Yelling out some lazy excuse as to why I was going off to the beach to watch the stars instead of the movie. The mothers not giving it a second thought.
It was a mess, both mentally and physically. My brain scrambled in my emotions and my room reflecting it. My bathing suit was still damp, fitting perfect across my body even in the slight discomfort it gave me. The shirt I threw on over it wasn’t my own. The words, “Boston MA” spread across the chest. It hung at my thighs and it smelled fresh.
In moments like this I used to purposefully put on Conrad’s shirts I’d stolen over the years. The lingering scent of his cologne and the memories we held of him wearing them comforting enough. But in this moment, I wanted nothing more than to be as far away from his as possible.
I’m not sure who’s sandals I stole at the door were, but I hoped they didn’t need them anytime soon. Because I didn’t plan on coming back until the house was quiet and asleep.
The beach was my sanctuary. Peaceful, stranded at an hour like this. In any other place it would’ve been almost eerie, but I felt safe in Cousins. I knew nothing could hurt me here, and that in itself gave me peace.
The stars were brighter than usual tonight, sparkling on the surface of the very water I had laid across just hours before with Conrad. Confessing each dirty secret from college and laughing about our past. It felt more lonely now, then ever.
Even when Conrad and I were drifted, I felt more together than now. The wound reopened and bleeding.
The sand shuffled beside me, but my head was set on looking up. Unmoving.
“The stars are gorgeous tonight, huh?” The question was meant to be left unanswered. Only an attempt to get me to see that he was there, beside me now so I wouldn’t become startled by his presence later on. Still, I nodded. Eyes peeling from the sky to his.
They were just as bright and lively. Just as beautiful.
“Why’d you follow me? You my stalker now?” I tried to be funny, tried to joke. But my mouth was stuck in that almost permanent frown. I should’ve known he could sense my sensitivity, he always could. That’s probably what had drawn him out here in the first place. Always so attentive.
Still, to pity me, he laughed. It was quiet but it was there. Enough to make the corner of my mouth twitch upward. We fell into another silence. My eyes glossy.
“What’s going on in that mind of yours, y/n/n. Tell me.” His hand reached out to push at my shoulder, gaining my attention again, pulling it away from the sky.
I blinked away the tears, swallowing the lump in my throat. I shrugged.
“Honestly, I’m not really sure.” Closing my mouth, I licked along the top line of my teeth. Sucking in my lips, I let them pop to take in a sharp breath. All while Jeremiah sat there patiently, ready to listen. Always there.
“I guess it’s just, everything. I mean-“ I looked for the right words to say, not wanting to stumble or say something I didn’t mean.
“I feel like I’m just being overly emotional. Everyone’s trying so hard to mend relationships and I feel like I keep finding reasons to run away again. I mean, I’ve been horrible to Conrad the past year. And for what? Because I couldn’t control myself? I haven’t seen Steven in awhile and I don’t even know how Laurel is holding up. I’ve just…I don’t know why I feel like this.” Everything was building into a massive guilt, my head facing the ground. Ashamed at my own feelings. Jeremiah didn’t judge, he didn’t push for more. He let me say what I needed to say, and he supported it. He was good to me.
“Hey, hey.” He was quick, seeing how I was breaking down rapidly. Under the stress of now not only the heartbreak I was suffering, but the guilt that came with the buried desire for Conrad to leave her to be with me. It snowballed into one big vomit of grief that wasn’t discovered until that moment.
“I’m sorry.” I wiped my eyes, breathing into a weak chuckle. I tried to lighten the whole situation, knowing that he was already dealing with so much. I felt worse putting it onto his shoulders. I couldn’t. So I avoided it. Changed the subject.
“Shit, Jere. I shouldn’t have brought you into it.” I looked at him, his eyes already trained on mine, his eyebrows knit together.
“Don’t be. I’ll always be there for you, Y/n. Promise.” His hands found mine in the dark, the sand getting stuck between the creases on our palms. They laid intertwined in the sand. The third time it had happened this summer. Somehow, even at my worst, he always found a way to break down the walls I was putting up.
My eyes flickered to his lips for only a moment, but the look on his face told me he was thinking about it too and the tension was palpable. Too lost in thought to lean in, Jeremiah closed the gap.
His lips slotted against mine perfectly. Molding together like they were one, pressing together hard. It was slow, but lustful. The knowledge that we both wanted more behind it, but the accompanying knowledge that it wouldn’t go beyond that kiss tonight was also there, creating a sort of comfort in the feeling.
Hands were soon tangled in each others hair, his curls ruined and messy from my constant tugging and messing with them. Groans escaping his mouth every so often when a tug was harder than usual. His hands finding the back of my neck to hold me close, our breathing heavy and the heat unbearable as it radiated between us. Everything was lustful and needy, slow and hot. Neither of us in a rush to end what was happening, everything feeling overwhelmingly good.
When we finally did pull away it was with a pop, lips swollen and reddened from a mixture of irritation and the small marks Jere had left littered across the bottom of mine with his tugging and gentle nips every so often. Eyes were heavy with desire and bodies unwilling to let go. It was like everything fell into place, like everything made sense. With Jeremiah so close, someone who cared for me, someone who constantly showed up, the heartache was almost nonexistent, and it felt like I was being pulled in a new direction. One that led me straight into the arms of the younger Fisher.
The kiss between Jeremiah and I should’ve stayed at that, a kiss. Realistically, I shouldn’t have done it at all. Knowing that even if I tried to stop it or refused to acknowledge it, my heart would always beat for Conrad. No matter how much of an asshole he had been to me. And that was the sad part, because his brother was so much kinder and better to me these past few years.
Maybe that’s why I agreed when it kept going. Why I allowed us to keep progressing into something more. Because even if my heart belonged to Conrad, Jeremiah was better for me, right?
That summer became last year, June coming up around the corner and still, physically I was Jeremiah’s.
Over our year together I had grown to love his curls, or the way he was so quick to visit me the second my voice faltered, despite his own troubles. How we had shared clothes and his touch was enough to send butterflies through my veins.
He was everything, someone I could grow to love as much as I did for Conrad. Someone that I could rely on. Someone who made my heart beat just a little bit faster.
If I had claimed that last summer was off, this one was tripled that.
What had started off semi normal in June, Conrad’s closeness in a strict platonic sense and Jeremiah’s closeness in a way that could be no where near a platonic level became more and more confusing as the weeks passed.
For the past two years of my life, I believed that one day the news would break that Conrad and Belly had finally found their place. Their title, their boundaries and make it exclusive. I believed that in her arriving with a new found beauty, I had lost the battle for him. I had come second to Belly in his eyes and would continue to forever if it meant he could be with her. But that never happened. The day never came.
And soon the lines became even more blurred. Conrad’s touches growing longer and closer. My body being pressed to his more often than not. His lips by my ear to whisper some secret, some dirty some innocent. His eyes staring just a second too long. It was almost flirtatious. But the minute Belly walked into the room, I was reminded that we could never be. And we would never be.
It wasn’t until the middle of August that I knew why the lines had seemingly disappeared. Belly and Conrad had stopped their messy make outs, both not getting what the other wanted, even if it had seemed like the pair was so enthralled by each other. And she had moved onto the boy she had been chasing for years. Cam Cameron. The boy who adored whales and had a heart of gold. His hair curlier than Jeres and eyes deeper than Conrad’s. It seemed that to her, she had finally found the person she needed around. And Conrad? He had nothing. Not even the girl he called his best friend to chase after him anymore. For she was with his brother now.
Still, the flirting was relentless. My mornings spent dedicated to Conrad, holding his hand as we attempted not to drift too far out in the calmness of the early ocean. His laugh warm and inviting. Something that reminded me why I enjoyed him so much. Even in his darkest moments, the ones where I was left to feel alone, he was always there to help me back up in the end. Mending his losses and fixing what was broke. He understood his issues, finding his own responsibility in situations that weren’t only his own cause. He was kind, he cared. He didn’t show it like Jeremiah did, but he had so much of it, it was just harder to see. He did everything for everyone.
My nights were for his brother. Jeremiah and I sprawled out on the grass, pointing at the stars, laughing about the stupidest things. I think back on why I like him so much. How easy it is to just be with him. How he never fights or lies or hurts. He’s there and accepts his faults, much like his brother. He is not ashamed like his brother. Not ashamed of his faults, he carries less guilt about the past, only worried about what he can do to fix it and continue on. And it is all so confusing because it feels impossible to long for two people at once. It feels selfish but it’s almost exactly what I want in that moment.
So the routine became something that I stuck to. Hiding away with Conrad in the sunlight to do our favorite things and holding onto Jeremiah throughout the night. The bed full, warm.
Somewhere in this thread, there was a bump. A miscommunication that led to Jeremiah wandering off to a party without me. One that I didn’t mind as it gave me a chance to clear my mind. Catch my breath on the situation. To do it in the one place I knew.
The concrete beneath my feet turned to sand, the softened surface relaxing as I tread across it. In the darkness I almost miss the hunched over figure in my spot. Red hoodie and messy hair unmissable. Easily identifiable even from the back, even with only an outline. An outline I had grown to recognize as Conrad’s.
I should’ve felt disappointed at the fact I wasn’t alone like I had planned to be, but I wasn’t. The idea that I would be with the one person I trusted more than life for a few hours wasn’t unsettling at all. It made it all more peaceful.
My legs folded underneath me, legs stretching out in front of me, I leaned back on my hands.
Looking up at Conrad I almost got a sort of deja vu from a similar conversation I was having just short of a year ago.
“What brings you down here this late?” I drew shapes in the sand, eyes drawn to his. He looked up to the sky, then back to me.
“I could ask you the same.” I smiled, only after realizing he had cracked one of his own.
“Clearing my mind.” I breathed out, relaxed fully next to him. I allowed myself to look at the stars with him.
“What are you think about?” I could hear his smile, something that made me feel warm. Something that made me want to express how I felt for him finally, but also urged me to put my strongest walls up.
The waves crashed against the shore and the crickets filled the silence. My teeth caught between my lip and my heart besting out of my chest, I felt dizzy in confusion. Where my heart lied.
“I think I might tell Jeremiah I love him.” I almost whispered it, like I was unsure.
The thought hadn’t crossed my mind before. I always knew my heart held something for Jeremiah. I always liked him. But not once did the idea of confessing my love for him cross my mind. Maybe it was because Conrad was close. He always had a way to make me confess my truest feelings. Maybe it was that, him helping me realize what I felt for his younger brother. Yet, in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but feel that the idea only came to mind in spite of Conrad, who had pushed me aside so many months ago. Who was now longing for my attention. And that alone made me feel sick. Sick that I would play with someone I adored so much at the expense of another, just to retaliate against old issues.
I expected a fake support from him. At least some sort of statement to encourage me to go for it. Something that I could try to believe was real and finally be able to let go of my twisted crush for him. One that I had held since I knew what love could be.
But his face fell flat, eyes looking almost coldly into the sky. His voice was dryer now, serious with each word he spoke.
“Don’t tell him.” I froze, confused but also bubbling with a mixture of frustration and sadness at his carelessness with such a heavy statement.
“What?” I tried to search his unmoving eyes.
“Don’t tell him.” He repeated, looking to me now.
“Why?” Looking at him, I saw the sun and the stars and moon, all lighting up the night sky. I saw the world in a way that made me want to put it in the palm of his hands. I saw something I’d never seen in his eyes before. A look I was only familiar with because it was a reflection of my own.
“Why?” He repeated me again, “You know why.”
My heart dropped. I had dreamt of this moment for years. Conrad running to me, asking me to take his hand. To be with him, but now, it felt almost sickening. Cruel for him to be doing this to me. Now, he had to do it. After his life fell apart and just as mine was coming together he had to do it.
I used my hands to slowly get up, Conrad mirroring my movements.
“No…no.” I repeated, trying to make my answer any more true.
“Yes.” His hand reached out to touch my cheek, but my hand was quick to push it away.
“No, Conrad.” I backed away more, letting him inch closer.
“What?” He asked, acting clueless to how he was ripping me apart all over again.
“You’re being mean, stop it. Stop it.”
“What? How am I being mean?” He almost sound amused at it, at how distressed I felt. All I could do was try to hold myself together for just a little longer.
“I have been second to Belly these past few years in everything. And I will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her.” My words held more truth than anything I had ever said in my life. The honest truth of how I felt these past few years, even if he never saw it.
“I won’t-I won’t do it.” I shook my head, his face broken and his eyebrows drawn together.
I wiped my brow, turning away briefly while my lip trembled. Slowly crumbling under the bubbling hot emotion coming up my throat, expanding into a lump.
“I won’t-not when I have spent my entire life loving you.” I wanted to point, stuck my finger right in his chest but my hands were glued to my sides, unwilling to touch him. With his silence as my returning answer, I took the chance to turn on the balls of my feet, walking off to the house in a new kind of distress than before.
I prayed that Jeremiah was still away, that I wouldn’t have to face him so soon but my prayers were left unanswered, a familiar frame sat over the kitchen island. His eyes drawn to his phone.
He smiled up at me as soon as he noticed I was in the room, everything about him so innocent and kind. Something I could never take advantage of. Something I could deprive someone else more deserving of it from.
His sweet smile soon turned into a mixed expression of pain and confusion. His feet carrying him across the room to me. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help but to put my arms out in front of me to create a distance. To relay it to him even when my mouth wouldn’t work that I could not be in his touch right now.
I shook my head before he could even speak, eyes opening, covered in a heavy gloss.
“What’s wrong?” He was almost frantic in the way he said it, wanting to provide comfort without knowing how.
“I-I can’t. I can’t do this, Jere. I can’t do this.” I kept repeating it like it would get any clearer.
“I can’t love you. And it physically hurts me to say it out loud because, because I should. You’re everything I could ever want but I just can’t and I don’t know why. And it’s wrong, and I’m sorry but I can’t keep doing this.” His face almost drained, attempting to salvage what I was so quick to let go of. But it all made sense.
It was foolish for him to believe that he could make me love him, when my heart so obviously still beat for Conrad. So he let me go just as he always does, without a fight. Letting there be peace in our divide.
The next few nights were unforgiving. The sheets a mess and my eyes tired. I couldn’t sleep knowing I had ruined everything in my eyes. What was something good I had to go and end because of my inability to let him go. Something I am unsure I will ever be able to do. Not when I’ve spent so much time bending to fit him.
Soon, summer would be over officially, even if to me it had ended that night. It was the last morning of August, the last day spent down in Cousins before we’d all pack our things into the car and count down the days until next June.
The sun had barely risen above the horizon when I woke. A familiar pattern. Not being able to sleep more than a few hours, the mess of everything keeping me awake.
It was mornings like these I wandered down to the beach, sitting myself in the same spot I had the night everything crashed down. It was all too peaceful for what had happened here, the only place I truly felt secure now. I couldn’t help but cry, looking out. Remembering everything that had happened, kissing those who were just a few feet away.
“Y/n!” His voice called out to me, like he knew I had woken up. He knew where I would be. And it was sweet but sickening.
“Why did you do it?” My voice broke, the question left unanswered. I heard his footsteps stop.
“Why now did you have to tell me? Why is it when I’m finally picking myself up you had to fuck with me. Why?” I all but sobbed, tears streaming freely.
Over my sniffles and pleas, I missed the sound of him moving again, his body finding a home in the sand next to mine. His voice quiet. He thought about it, hard. Trying to form some sort of confession that could sum up what he felt.
“Because if you said it, that meant he won. I would have finally lost you.” He looked at me truthfully, eye own eyes squinting in confusion, heart still aching.
“What?” I breathed out.
“I have spent every waking minute of my life so fucking in love with you, it physically hurt me to not be able to confess it. I was always too scared, seeing how perfect you looked with everyone else. I felt like I was dragging you down. Like I wasn’t enough. So, I found comfort in other people. People who were okay with me using them to forget. Because forgetting is better than living with the fact that my brother was with the only person I have ever loved.” My eyes searched his, his eyes glossy just like mine. His voice breaking and desperate. Wanting me, needing me to believe him.
“I love you too.” The smallest smile broke out across his face, one of relief and comfort in my words. I could sense the hesitation in his actions, and just as Jeremiah had to me, I closed the gap between us. Allowing my lips to press against his with desperation yet so much love. A kiss that had been coming for years. Building without either of us aware of its existence. It wasn’t long and lustful like Jere’s was. It was sweet and short. Just long enough to get across its impact. Just enough to take our breathes away.
His forehead rested on mine, his hands on mine and his eyes looking into mine. Breathing me in, letting us just be close for a moment, letting us just be there. Existing. And it was all so calming.
I always imagined this summer ending with Jeremiah and I celebrating our one year. His arms wrapped around me as we parted ways. I never could have imagined myself on the same beach it all started, the lips against mine not his, but his brothers. An old love becoming a new love. The beginning.
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Building Houses and Burning Bridges Pt 5: Bargains and Balls
Summary:
It seems, oddly enough, that Gregory House lives to annoy you. He takes 'arseholish boss' to the next level. Wake up in the morning, ready to have breakfast, and drive to the hospital where you both work? Nope, you're getting a text that says you're late to his impromptu 4:30 AM meeting where he's had the 'breakthrough of the century' on the team's latest case. Get your hair cut and walk into work, for once feeling confident? Nope, he's saying that he would have done a better job blinded, hands tied and going through Vicodin withdrawals. Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, prove him wrong and attempt to wipe the cockiness off his face? Nope, you're simply slow because you didn't get to your diagnosis quicker and weak-willed because you didn't fight him for it in the beginning. Everything House does infuriates you, and it seems everything you do infuriates him. No wonder you end up pinned to the wall of your apartment and groping him like your life depends on. And knowing House, it very may well.
Warnings: Adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Current Status: Ongoing
Masterlist: Building Houses and Burning Bridges
Next Chapter: Pt 6
-----------------------
The white envelope sears a hole into your pocket during your journey home. You toss it against your bedside dresser, and imagine it sizzling and scorching the wood.
It sits there for another week before you pick it up again. You blame work, of course. House hadn’t given up completely on making your life a living hell, but it seemed he had relented somewhat. Still, you were running around. Chasing after MRIs and lumbar punctures and CT scans and bloodwork and all the sorts. Cuddy, after your last conversation, seemed determined to make sure you weren’t about to collapse under House. She set up work counselling (that you skipped. Admitting that House was affecting you was admitting defeat, right?), and, by his snarky “Tattle to mummy? You’re just lucky I like seeing her with a whip” comment, she had reamed House out.
Any spare time that you did have at the hospital was taken up with clinic duty. Kids with snotty noses, men with sore backs, women with rashes, teenagers with acne; you had dealt with more incredulous patients in one week than you had during your residency.
So yes. You blame work.
You sit on your bedroom floor, your back pressed to one of the boxes. It has DESK STUFF scrawled across the side in sharpie. Of course, you couldn’t start unpacking until the rest of your bedroom was clean. Starting with the envelope.
You slide open the top and pull out the invitation. Small. A slight silver tinge. An embossed stamp of the hospital’s logo. Overwhelmingly underwhelming.
Still, your stomach curled, and you reread it, over and over. A charity ball, to celebrate the end of winter and more importantly, raise money for some of the hospital’s foundations. It had raffles, auctions, and games. A long list of celebrated donors and a longer list of speakers. You scan the list, and while you see Dr Wilson’s, House’s isn’t shown. Maybe he was shy, beneath all that boisterous toxicity.
You snort to yourself. Not likely.
It takes two more days for you to drag your feet to Pop’s. He’s tinkering away at something by his counter; too many screws and bolts for you to really guess what. But when he sees you, he drops it all, and rushes around the counter to crush you in a hug. You laugh, but it’s swallowed up by the scratchy flannel he’s wearing. He sways you on the spot, and you hug him back, clutching at his back.
When he releases you, his hands land on your cheeks. “You look horrible!”
You laugh and push away at his hands. You can imagine the flecks of dirt and iron on your cheeks, but you make no move to wipe them away. “Gee, thanks.”
He nods, and you follow him back to the counter. You lift yourself up, and sit on the edge, your feet dangling off like a child’s. He picks up what he was working on earlier, and grumbles. “Not rude. Just the truth. You look terrible. Like a ghost.”
You nod, swinging your shoes in front of you. “Work’s been a lot recently.”
His eyes swivel to yours, and his tinkering pauses. “Is it that man again? Home?”
In the past few months, even though you had slowed down on your impromptu home renovations, you had still visited Pop. On slow days, he taught you card games and how to shuffle a deck. In his large hands, the cards were like magic, disappearing and flying through the air. He had not been impressed at the news of your boss. Of course, you omitted some details (like how at one point, you were convinced you wanted to jump his bones), but he got the general gist of House’s behaviour.
Laughing, you shake your head half-heartedly. “A little bit. Even without him though, the job’s just tiring.”
He huffs. “You need food. Sleep. If you go home and get to bed, me and Ella will drop you soup.”
As if summoned, you hear her telltale shoes clicking against the hardwood floor. Ella, Pop’s wife, appears through the small door in the corner that leads to the back. She’s a beautiful woman. Dark, greying ringlets of hair frame her sun-kissed, weathered face, and a store apron is draped across her frame. You push yourself off the counter to stand and her smile is instantaneous. Just as Pop did, she rushes forward to hug you. It’s not as bone-crushing, but you squeeze her back tightly nonetheless. Her green eyes twinkle, and you have to force yourself not to stare at the full lashes that frame them. “It’s good to see you, sweetheart.”
You smile. “You too, Eleanora.”
Her smile drops, and she swats at your arm. “Ah, so you call him Pop and all I get is Eleanora? Call me Ella, at least.”
You duck your head and raise your hands in apology. “Of course, of course.”
You had this conversation numerous times in your past visits. Something about her nickname was too endearing. Of course, she was an endearing woman; a wide, toothy smile, rosy cheeks, and golden jewellery hanging across her neck. Yet, she was formidable and intimidating when she wanted to be. That’s what drew you to call her Eleanora. Ella was an amazing cook, and on some of the nights you stayed chatting with Pop until closing, she would push a plate into your hands and demand you eat it. For such a small woman, she could be intense. It was a demand you were willing to oblige.
Happy with your promise to concede, Ella turns and busies herself by tidying Pop’s counter. She replaces the screwdrivers and Allen keys that he has lying about to their home and is a flurry of cleansing movement around the two of you. You know better than to try to help; she had nearly had a hernia the last time you tried sweeping the floor. Ella was a self-sufficient woman and survived alongside Pop without taking advantage of others.
You raise yourself back onto the counter and sigh, looking towards Pops. “I don’t need sleep. I need a dress. At work, we have this biiiiig,” You stretch your hands over your head in a sweeping motion. “Charity event. I have nothing to wear; is there a dress shop around here? Or even a clothing shop?”
No way would you be able to meander into town near the hospital before or after work; the shops opened too late and shut too early. The thick caterpillars that are Pop’s eyebrows, scrunch together, but it’s Ella who stops her flurry and speaks. “No, no, I’ll have something for you.”
You tilt your head to the side and look at her quizzically. She taps your knee and bustles off to the back door. You shoot Pop a look, but he just shrugs his shoulders. “Best if you follow her, kid. She’ll drag you up there anyway.”
You nod and push through the back door. It leads to a larger back room, filled to the brim with filing cabinets, and thick, manilla folders that are bursting at the seams. To your left, you turn just in time to see Ella trudging up a sagging staircase. You spare one last fleeting glance at the room and follow her.
While she is able to make it up quietly, the stairs creak in protest underneath you. You sheepishly hasten your steps when Ella makes it to the next floor. There’s a small wooden landing and adjoining doors. Ella has already disappeared into one, so you gingerly open each. The first is a small, but pristine and ornate bathroom. There’s a lounge room, filled with bookshelves and a VHS player. The third is a small kitchen; a window looks outwards to a simple backyard, but you can imagine it in the summer, pushed open and welcoming all sorts of warm sunlight and songbird melodies. Finally, after feeling like the biggest intruder to their home, you find Ella in the bedroom.
She’s plunged into a large, wooden cabinet, and you toe off your shoes to abandon them by the landing before you cross onto the soft carpet. You sit on the edge of the large bed awkwardly, but when you clear your throat, Ella spins around and tuts. “No, up, up!”
Like a soldier, you stand to attention, but Ella doesn’t seem as offended at you sitting on her bed as she does seem interested in poking at you. For a moment, she stands in front of you and surveys you, her green eyes sweeping across your face, your torso, down to your legs and back up again. She steps forward on nimble feet and reaches up to push your chin up and your shoulders back. Now you really do feel like a soldier.
She pulls both of your hands in front of you, and you think it best to just let her play around with you like a doll; right now she was Eleanora, not Ella. She turns your palms upwards, and then back down. Then she guides your arms out to the side, and nudges your leg apart with her own, all while staring with a calculating eye. Now, standing in the centre of her room like you're in the middle of a jumping jack, she circles around you. Your head involuntarily turns to follow her, but she tuts again, and you look forward. She shifts your hips to the centre and places the palm of her hand against your back, pushing to even your posture.
She does odd measurements with her hands. She closes one eye, holds a hand parallel to your throat and shifts it down, lining it up against your waist. She gauges the width of your shoulders and mirrors it against your hips. She tuts at your chest, and you look at her with worry. She shakes her head, “It’s fine. Your mother and God were just kinder to you than they were to me.” She continues her measurements and when she circles back around to face you, she nods with determination. “It should be perfect.”
—--------- The days pass by in a flurry of snowy weather and icy roads. The charity event is quickly approaching, and your stomach is curling at the thought of it. Cameron, Foreman, and yourself are bundled into a small cafe booth. It’s overpriced and has horrible sandwiches, but it’s inside the hospital and most importantly away from the mini blizzard outside.
You poke at your sandwich and sip from your hot chocolate. Cameron got a pastry, which while you would usually expect to be burnt on one side and undercooked on the other, looks like sweet goodness. Foreman wretches at his salad. “This has got to be a health violation. Who puts anchovies in caesar salad anymore?”
You laugh. “Who buys anchovies from the hospital anymore?”
Foreman shakes his head and pushes his plate away from him. You reach across and push your own towards him, and he looks towards you with wide eyes. “Really?”
You nod. “Yep. I asked for no mayo and got mayo, so they’ll go to waste if you don’t have them.”
Cameron laughs. “When Chase shows up, they won’t go to waste. He’s like a tall, skinny, bottomless pit.”
You all laugh, and Foreman humbly accepts. In a mouth full of sandwiches, he speaks. “Fu wot, aryu affergeec?”
Cameron scoffs beside you and shakes her head. “Finish chewing, Foreman. I don’t want your crumbs spat in my coffee.”
He swallows and turns back to you. “I was asking if you’re allergic. To mayo? Or would it be eggs, then?”
You shake your head, feeling a blush creep over your cheeks. “I’m not allergic. It’s just gross and makes me gag. I used to be force-fed sandwiches which were basically drowned in mayo, and now I can’t eat it.”
Foreman nods. “I get it. My mum used to make us tuna pasta- she was a great cook, but something about that dish she could never get right. I think we were so broke at one point, even the tinned tuna was out of date. Just the smell of tuna makes me gag now.”
You sip your hot chocolate, trying to chase away the thought of fish and mayo. You stop when you spy Chase, weaving between tables, looking like Frosty the Snowman. When he slides in across from you, Foreman laughs. “What happened to you, man? Did House send you outside as a punishment?”
Chase scoffs, and whips his beanie and scarf off. It sends flecks of snow flying, which quickly melt against the table. “Nope. I went to five different stores, and the first three were closed.” He groans, rubbing at his side. “I think I busted a rib on the ice.” Cameron coos. “Did you slip over? Before we go back up, I’ll see if you’ve actually broken something, or if you’re just being a baby.” Chase locks eyes with you across the table,\ and rolls them. You stifle a snort.
Foreman speaks between mouthfuls this time. “What. Were. You. Shopping. For?”
Chase inhales and produces a white shopping bag. He places it on the table and slides it towards you. Now you’re the one locking eyes with him, and mouthing ‘What?’ He gestures towards the bag with a hand. Even Foreman’s put down his sandwiches to watch. “Open it.”
You’re sceptical, and gingerly reach a hand inside the bag, pulling out a box. You look back to Chase for confirmation, and he nods. “Go on.”
You open the box, and push past plain tissue paper. There’s a pair of glittery, black pumps. You look back to him, frantic. “Chase, I can’t, these are gorgeous and-”
He nods. “I barfed on your shoes. Literally barfed. And I was meaning to get you a new pair a few weeks back, but then I didn’t know what you liked.”
“No, really, I can’t take these, this is too much-”
“I tore up the receipt. Shredded it, actually.”
You blink. “Huh?”
Cameron nods along. “I saw him burn it too. And black’s not Chase’s colour, so I guess you’ll just have to take them.”
You shake your head, but Chase speaks first. “I’m serious. I’m not taking them back.”
You stare at him, willing him to break, but he pokes his tongue out at you. You furrow your brow. “Okay. You know these aren’t really practical for work, right?”
Foreman reaches over, plucking a heel and holding it up to examine it. “Look at it! You’ll finally be able to reach the top medicine shelves in the clinic.”
“Ha ha.” You laugh humorlessly, taking back the shoe, and returning it to its box.
Chase speaks. “Well, we’ve got that charity thing coming up this week…I was hoping it went with your dress, and that maybe, you’d like to-”
“Sit with us!” Cameron interjects. Chase shoots her a look and begins to open his mouth but she continues. “Cuddy’s asking us for table arrangements, so we thought we’d sit together as a diagnostic team. Right, Foreman?”
Foreman squints at her, but when there’s a resounding thump under the table and he winces, he nods. “Yep. Right.”
Chase chews his cheek, staring at Cameron. “You sure, Cameron? Maybe we should let her make her own decisions and not force her into something.”
Cameron shakes her head. “She’s not being forced into something. She’s being asked, and can say yes or no.”
You lean forward. “I’m lost. What am I saying yes or no to?”
Chase doesn’t look towards you anymore, staring down at the table. Cameron turns to face you. “Well, do you want to sit with us?”
You nod. “Of course; the only other people I know here is Cuddy and House.”
Cameron smiles, and if anything, Chase’s face turns even more sour. “Perfect. We’ll see you there.” —------ Chase avoids you for the rest of the week. You thought, maybe the shoes were a sign of something more. But he’s adamant in separating at every chance from you. Before, he used to seek you out at the coffee machine and talk to you about everything from you shouldn’t trust the creamer to how aliens must be real. It’s disappointing. Cameron shoots you sad smiles when no one else is around. “He’s just stressed. House has been riding his arse, but after this charity ball, it should be fine.”
Your logic wants to question her, and demand to know why she thinks that. But, you feel like you’ve lost a friend in less than four days, and nod, clinging to some semblance of hope. Yet, two days being the dinner-ball-charity-anxiety inducing-thing, it’s House that seeks you out.
‘I’ve been told to ‘talk’ with you.” He makes quotations with his fingers in the air.
You scoff, and spin back to the microscope, where about a minute ago, you were analysing liver cell enzymes in peace. “Oh, so no hitting this time? I’m glad, I thought your cane could use a break.”
House makes a weird noise in the back of his throat, and your eyes flick back to him. He coughs….almost awkwardly? “Mother superior says you’re skipping counselling.”
“Ohhh.” House had to talk about feelings. No wonder the narcissistic robot was feeling awkward. “Yep.”
He rolls his eyes. “Most people wouldn’t be so snippy with their boss.”
You nod along, staring back at the glass slide. “Yep. Then again, most bosses wouldn’t be the reason that most people need work counselling, but hey.” You don’t mention that you’re upset Chase is managing to ghost you at work.
He scoffs. “You don’t need it because of me. I’m sure there’s some weird, hormonal, womanly disaster you’re hiding.”
“So we agree. I don’t need it.”
“Don’t twist my words like that, newbie, I-”
You sit up, facing him fully. “The only reason Cuddy wants me in counselling is because she’s afraid you’re hurting my feelings. You’re not.” Lies. “It doesn’t keep me up at night when you act like a dickhead.” Lies. “Hence, I don’t need counselling.” Lies.
House runs his hand down his face, and you have to stop yourself from tracking the movement. Just stare at the pale wall to the left of his head. Just like that- no, no you’re staring at his face again.
He sighs. There’s a beat of silence, then two, and then three. You’re about to ask him why he’s still interrupting the task he ordered you to do when he speaks with a lively vigour. “So! If you’re not wanting to throw yourself down a set of stairs because of me,” Lies. “You could totally manage to go to the charity thingamajig with me. Something about dying babies or dying grandmas, I don’t know.”
You blink. “It’s for the hospital’s Domestic Violence foundation and Childhood Cancer.”
“Ah, so men acting like babies and children dying like grandmas. I’ll take that as a yes.”
“No!”, you blurt out.
He blinks, frazzled. “No? You don’t think abusive men act like immature babies?”
You roll your eyes. “Shut up. Why are you inviting me?”
His jaw flexes for a moment, and he stares at you. The silence is loud, but you see the chord of electricity connecting the two of you thrumming. Your thoughts are pulsing at the same beat. Say it. Chase didn’t say it. No one’s ever said it to me. Say that you’re inviting me because you want me with you. Not Cameron, not Cuddy, not some leggy blonde. Me.
Instead, he says “It’s the one apology you’ll ever get for me making you want to throw yourself down a set of stairs.”
Your thoughts zap and fizzle out with a pop. Even their absence is shameful, and you dumbly nod your head. It’s a work event. What were you expecting? Moreso, why were you expecting it from House? “Fine.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and you scoff. “Don’t make me take it back.”
“Hey!” He places a hand to his heart, faux wounded. “No refunds on sponsoring domestic abusers with me.”
“What? That’s not what the charity do-”
He’s already limping out of the lab and you’re left in silence. —------- There was no frumpled jacket, fraying sweater, and an untucked shirt. No coffee-stained jeans or pen-scratched slacks.
The black dress clung to your waist, cinching in, and widening out into a breathy, floor-length skirt fleckered with embroidered flowers and trailing leaves. God, you prayed no one thought this was too slutty; sure, there wasn’t a thigh-high slit or even any leg showing, but your full breasts were practically shoved up to your chin.
Ella’s dress. She was ecstatic when she handed it to you, and demanded that you try it on at their home and that Pop drive you to the ball. She helped you wriggle into it; almost a claustrophobic process, but Ella would laugh each time you hand stuck through the neckline or the skirt. “You’re like a silly monkey. When my daughter and my sons grew up, I thought there would be no silly monkeys left here.” She pinches your cheek tenderly while you're wrapped in odd angles of the dress. “But then you came. I’m so glad you did.”
Eventually, you stretch and jump and slide into the dress. Pop’s already waiting for you outside, by his old, clunky truck. He envelopes you quickly, squeezing you and resting his head on your own. “You look beautiful. Ella was right, the dress is perfect.”
You laugh. “She always is.”
You thank him again and again for driving you all the way, but his reply is a gruff laugh. You insist that you’ll be fine later tonight, and will get a lift home with someone or call a taxi. It’s two late for Pop to be driving out on icy roads. When he parks in the bay of the hospital, he turns to you. “You sure? I rather you get home with me then not at all.”
You nod. “I’m sure. Don’t worry, I’ll get home.”
He runs his hands across his moustache, and nods. The seriousness dissipates from his face, and he smiles tenderly at you. “Have a great time.”
The dress was beautiful, you think when you shuffle from the car and quickly into the warmth of the foyer. But Ella had been right in saying that your mother and god were kinder. Your boobs were nearly spilling out of the top, and as you step through the doorway, you cross your fingers that you wouldn’t give the whole hospital staff a nip slip.
The hospital’s foyer had been completely converted. There was no stuffy receptionist or odd potted plants. There was draped, flowing curtains along the wall, obscuring the view of the clinic and offices. There was a faux chandelier for god's sake, dangling down from the floor above. Even the floors seemed to gleam. The foyer seemed bigger somehow. There were large, circular tables, covered in white cloth, that bordered the edges, yet there was still room for (presumably) a dance floor in the centre. Furthest away, there was a large catering table, and you stomach was already growling.
The second you think of beelining to the food however House sidles into view. He whistles, staring at your chest. “Wow. I’d say you clean up nicely, but those sure do.”
You resist the urge to cover up, and a blush flames across your cheeks. “You don’t look absolutely repulsive yourself, House.”
That was far from the truth. House was wearing a form-fitting black suit. Had his hair been combed? Was his cane polished? Whatever it was, he looked…handsome. You would have to be wary.
He holds out his left hand. “I hope you don’t have rabies.”
You gingerly reach out, feeling his rough palm against your own. His fingers are against your pulse. “I do. Air-borne gonorrhoea, too.”
House smiles, and you find that you can’t look away from it. He realises you’re staring at him in awe however and a scowl quickly covers his face. He yanks you to his side and spins for the both of you to face the room.
You hiss, “You’re lucky I didn’t trip. I would have brought you down with me.”
“I have the cane as an advantage. Now,” you inch closer, til your shoulders are pressed together. Or rather, it’s your head by the tip of his shoulder. You tilt your ear, listening as he whispers conspiratorially. “The best thing I will ever teach you is how to get in, and out of a Cuddy-event.”
You snort. “I thought that you wanted to support domestic abusers?”
He peers down at you, scoffing. “You must have me confused for someone else.” He looks back out to the foyer, and gestures with his head, first to the catering table, “You get food. Not a lot, but enough to seem that you’re interested in staying for the evening. You dance, and make sure that someone remembers that you’ve danced.”
You nudge him in the ribs, and he looks back at you. “How do you dance? I’ve seen you avoid walking to an OR because of your leg.”
He grins and reaches into the pocket of his suit. He produces a pill bottle and rattles it. “I have enough of these bad boys to endure Cuddy’s torture tonight. I’m going to tear it up on the dance floor.”
You roll your eyes. “Okay, dancing, eating, what other great tips do you have?”
“Well, I have a great tip in my pants but another one is also to do the worst thing on earth- small talk. Luckily for me, I have Wilson.”
You huff out a laugh torn between humour and disgust at his innuendo. At that, he loops your arms together, and he walks towards one of the outlying tables. Wilson sits there, and you spy the ducklings a few tables over. You wave at them, and while Foreman and Cameron both smile back, Chase blanches.
Wilson draws you back to where you are when he says your last name. “It’s good to see you here. And with House! I thought by now, he would have made you a bitter enemy.”
House scoffs, and you feel where your arms are linked burn when he speaks. “I have. This is all a ruse to get her guard down.”
You roll your eyes, but smile at Wilson. “He roped me in. Something about dying babies and dying grandmas.”
Wilson squints. “That sounds like House, especially because tonight is for Domestic Violence-”
“And childhood cancer!” House interjects. “I bet you’ll see a lot of your little friends running around tonight, Wilson. Or is it more like wheeling around?”
Now Wilson rolls his eyes and turns back to you. “If you ever need a break from him, I’ve got a free seat at my table.”
House’s elbow seems to pull you in tighter, but you smile. “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll swing by later.”
House doesn’t say bye to his friend, already leading you away. It’s odd; Wilson and House bicker and fight, yet you get the sense they’re the closest friends in the hospital. You try to tug his elbow back towards the ducklings' table, but he tuts. “Small talkis donee. Food now.”
You shake your head. “That was hardly small talk. We were there for two minutes before you were an arse.”
You realise you’re saying we. What was the etiquette of bosses asking out employees on a not-date date? Or, moreso, dates in general? Were you supposed to leave him alone? Separate and enjoy the night before reconvening. Or, like you were doing now, be paraded around on his arm and cling to him like a hopeless bird clings to a dangling birdseed treat?
You’re brought out of your own head when House speaks. “It’s Wilson. He’s used to my arse if you know what I mean.”
You bark out a laugh. That would make sense on to why Wilson put up with House’s shit. Old flames always burn dully. House is weaving you in between tables, and directing you towards the catering table.
He swears and begins yanking you around like a getaway driver. “Shit. Left, left! No, now right. Oh, fuck-”
Cuddy marches up to you two and beams at you. She glares at House. “Were you trying to avoid me?”
House puffs out air from his cheeks. “No, why would you ever think that?”
“You’re behind a fake palm plant.”
He uses his cane to reach up and poke at the plastic shrubbery beside you. “Darn. I thought it was the real thing.”
Cuddy sighs, and turns to you. “You look beautiful. I’m glad you came.” She pins House with a stare. “Even gladder that you tried being kind for once.”
House gags. “Not altruistic though.”
Cuddy shakes her head slightly at him, and smiles at you. You scan her scarlet dress with an approving nod. “You look amazing. That dress is gorgeous”
A slight dusting colours Cuddy’s cheek, and she smiles again; smaller, but far more sincere. “Thank you, kid. Try to have a good night. You’ve worked hard, especially with a boss like that.” Her eyes slide to House, and he bares his teeth at her mockingly.
You nod, “Thanks, I’ll try.”
With that, House huffs and sidesteps Cuddy, practically dragging you with him. You shoot her an apologetic look, but for a man with a cane, House hobbles fast and you’re quickly crossing the room towards the catering table.
Finally, he untwines your arms, and you look down at his absence. You feel oddly bare. House is staring down at his own elbow, but then he shakes it out like it’s gone numb. He straightens his shoulders and nods towards the table. “Small talk is definitely done now. Food. The second best thing to drugs. Actually, third, to drugs and monster trucks.”
You pick up a plate from the end. “In that order?”
House scoffs, and mimics you, grabbing a plate. “God, no. Have you seen a monster truck? Those things are awesome.”
In silence, you both move along the table, scooping heaps of vegetables, roasted meats, and desserts. He’s the one to stand, and debate over the deserts; quite literally listing off the pros and cons of cream, fruits, chocolate, and pastries. He must sense you staring at him, and he straightens to his full height, looking down his nose at you. “What?”
You raise your spare hand in defence. “I just think that this is the longest you’ve talked to me. Definitely, the longest you’ve been nice to me.”
A strange mixture crosses his face. His mouth slightly opens and his eyes almost soften, but then it’s gone, and he’s clenching his jaw, and rolling his eyes so far back into his head you’re worried he’s having a seizure. “Don’t worry Newbie, I’ll make sure to ride your arse on Monday.”
You snort. Spoke too soon, huh? “I’m sure you’d like that, House.”
He stills and stares at you. “And if I would?”
You chew your lip, looking at him through your lashes. It’s all on the tip of your tongue, about to burst over the edge in a flood of words, but then, somewhere in the room, you hear Cameron’s laugh and remind yourself of her heartbreak. Was House worth that?
You shake your head. “I need to sit down while we eat, otherwise I’m gonna wear chocolate fondue down the front of my dress.”
House doesn’t follow you when you walk to the ducklings' table, and you force yourself to not turn and look for him. You plop into one of the chairs and smile at the three doctors sitting down. You sigh, “Hi. You all look fantastic. Odd, without the lab coats.”
Cameron laughs. She’s in a blue dress with a sweetheart neckline. It makes her eyes vivid, and you mean it when you say she looks fantastic. “Thanks. You look really nice too.”
You grin, abandoning your plate and whipping you leg upwards. You raise your skirt, feeling like a scandalous 1860’s woman, and point your toes at Chase. The ducklings all peer down, and Chase’s face becomes quickly flushed when you speak. “The heels are killer. They were a perfect find, Chase. Thank you.”
He nods, averting his eyes and staring at the table. “No problem.”
Okay. So still weird. It’s Foreman who clears his throat, dissipating the awkward air that had settled. He wriggles his brow. “So, House?”
You groan, and pick at some of the food in front of you. “Don’t get me started.”
Cameron peers at you. “Has he been…tolerable?”
“Um, yeah.” You nod. “At least to me.”
Her eyes dart across the table, but they’re quick to return to you. “I’m glad you’re having a good night then. Maybe it’ll show you that beneath it all, he has some humanity.”
You duck your head, bashfully. “Yeah. He was the one who asked to join me tonight; he said it was an apology for being a dick basically. I know it doesn’t mean he’ll never be a dick again, he’s House for gods sake, but… It’s a good reminder that he has a little bit of a soul.” You clear your throat, trying to blink away the tears springing up in your eyes. “I was thinking of transferring. Giving up. I never even started to make plans, and I’m not sure if I was actually going to.”
Cameron smiles. “I’m glad you didn’t. It’s been great working with you; House isn’t all thunderstorms and rain clouds.”
Foreman laughs sarcastically but Chase scoffs, crossing his arms against his chest. “Really?”
A beat passes, and he stares at Cameron, who shakes her head. “Don’t.”
Chase’s eyes dart back to the skirt of your dress, to where your heels are hidden again. “I think she should know.”
Foreman’s firm voice rings out across the table. “Don’t ruin it, Chase.”
Your eyes narrow. “Know what?”
Cameron begins to open her mouth, but Chase turns in his seat and faces you. “House didn’t ask you to tonight.”
You laugh softly, staring at him. “I was there Chase. He did.”
Chase shakes his head, his hands flying up. “No. Cuddy did. You were skipping counselling and getting withdrawn. You stopped coming out to drinks with us. She knew something was up. Maybe knew what you were planning.”
Cameron’s voice is stern. “Chase, stop it.”
Chase shakes his head, almost in a frenzy. “No!” He locks eyes with you, staring intently. “Cuddy asked him to invite you tonight, weeks ago. When he couldn’t even do that, she had to make a fucking trade with him. He is your date for one night, shows some sort of niceness,” He spits the word, “And gets a month and a half off of clinic duty. He’s not being kind or tender, or human, he’s being House.”
Your eyes flicker towards the rest of the table. Foreman is staring down at the table, shaking his head, and Cameron is practically murdering Chase with her eyes. Her eyes dart towards you, and the soft pity that you find there is enough confirmation. The mouthfuls of food in your stomach turn to lead, and you blanch, pushing up from the table.
Chase is still saying something, and it’s almost apologetic, but you can’t make out the words. There are definitely tears in your eyes now and they make your vision blur.
One of them calls out your name, but you’re already halfway across the room. Doctors at other tables stare at you, and you see Wilson's head perk up. He calls out your last name, but you storm past.
House is standing by the fake palm plant. His plate is jammed into the soil, and his fork stabbed through one of the plastic leaves. He smirks when you appear, and grabs your hand, spinning you. “Just in time Newbie.” He leans his cane against the pot plant. “One dance, and we get to go home.”
You don’t register that he’s leading you to the centre of the foyer. There are a few other dancers there, twirling gently and swaying to the music playing through the announcement system overhead. His hand burns against the curve of your waist and the other one guides your hand to the side of your body. You’re struggling to breathe, but huff out the words. “Are you high?”
He squints one eye and tilts his lips to the side. “A little bit. How else would I be dancing with no cripple stick?” He leads you around the floor, and your feet simply follow him. You clench your jaw. “Or are you just that desperate to get out of here?”
House nods and barks out a laugh. “I’ve already seen two people barf from the seafood. Of course I am.”
You shake your head. “Or is it just me that you want to get away from?”
House scrunches his face. “What? Do you actually have rabies?”
You try to escape his grip, but his hand is firm against your back, caging you in. You stop moving, stilling alongside the edge of the floor. In your peripheral, you think you see Wilson standing up. You drop House’s hand. “I know Cuddy asked you to take me tonight. Although it wasn’t really asking, was it? You had to be fucking paid for it.”
You shove against his chest, and his hand grips yours against his suit. “Did Cuddy say that?”
“What does it matter? Are you denying it?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Well, I wasn’t paid.”
You laugh humourlessly. “You got out of fucking clinic duty for this! Did you have to raise it? Did she offer one week and you demand fucking six of them?”
He scoffs, and drops your hand. “What did you think tonight was? A date?”
You clench your jaw, willing the tears to not fall. They wobble at the edge of your eyes. He blinks in realisation. “God, you wanted this to be a date, didn’t you?’
He soldiers on even when you shake your head. “Yes, you did. That’s why you were smiling and laughing and for once, not being a pain in my arse. You wanted to believe that I had asked you out.”
You have. “I didn’t think you found me so repulsive that you had to be begged to take me tonight.”
“What does it matter what I think? Did you want me to actually ask you out from the bottom of my heart? Pretend that I actually want to be here, and that out of everyone, I would want to be here with you? On a date?”
Wilson reaches you at the edge of the dancefloor, and you finally wrench yourself out of House’s grip. You spit venom at him. “Fuck you, House.”
House laughs your last name bitterly. “I’m sure you wanted to.”
Wilson calls out your last name. “It’s not what you think, he-”
You laugh, your shoulders hunching over. “No, I know exactly what it is. Forgive me for thinking that for once in your miserable life, House, you wanted to apologise to someone or do something kind for them. I’ll make sure to thank Cuddy for the great,” You hiss the word, “night.”
House just stares at you, his jaw flexing and Wilson’s the one rambling a long explanation that you couldn’t give less of a shit about. You turn on your heel and stride across the room, and out of the hospital doors.
#house md fanfiction#house md x reader#gregory house#house md#gregory house x reader#gregory house x f!reader#house md fic#gregory house fic#gregory house smut
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Pfft why can imagine the reader singing peaches to her crush 🤣😂🤣
Lucky: 🎶🎹🍑
The crush:🧍😳🧍♀️
Stawhats: 😳😱😭😡🤭
I don't know if you meant for this to be a request, but I was inspired. Absolutely none of this is canon to Lucky Break, this is straight up crack.
Can't Take You Anywhere
Yandere Straw Hats x reader x Smoker
1.9k words
warning for alcohol consumption
"This is all your fault, you stupid love cook," Zoro seethed from across the table.
"My fault? How is this my fault? Do you think I put her up to this???"”
“You did!” Nami butted into the argument, “Why the hell did you tell her to ‘follow her heart’ when she admitted to crushing on someone?!”
“I didn’t think she was referring to him!” Sanji gestured helplessly to what was disappointingly, the man of your affection.
“She looks like you with all the dopey faces she makes every time she sees him! Who else did you think it was?!” Zoro slammed his fist onto the table, not having any of Sanji’s attempts to shrug off the blame here.
Sanji’s face dropped and he sniffled loudly, “... Me.” With that he dissolved into a puddle of tears on the table they were all seated around. Well, all but one of them.
You were seated at the piano in the center of the restaurant, which you had commandeered by shoving the actual pianist off the bench and threatening to kick his ass if he interrupted you. To say that you had possibly had a little too much to drink tonight would be an understatement, but none of them thought to cut you off, and now they’re all going to suffer for it.
Not one of them could have guessed Captain Smoker was going to make an appearance, and absolutely not a soul in this restaurant would have been able to guess what you were going to do about it.
“I think we all share some blame here for not stopping her the second she stood up,” Robin’s face was in her hands, too ashamed to even look at what was happening. “Especially after she said ‘this one’s for my one and only true love: Captain Smoker’.”
Now it was too late. Now you were drunkenly belting out a love ballad to a fucking marine in the middle of a crowded restaurant and none of them were willing to go up there and stop you. Everyone was too embarrassed to go and associate with you when you were acting like this. Except Luffy who was happily taking advantage of your now unattended plate.
Their discomfort was nothing though, not in comparison to the absolute mortification on Smoker’s face right now. All he could do was stand there in abject horror as one of the pirates he’s been chasing for months loudly, and publicly, professed her love for him. His cigars had fallen to the floor after he had bitten clean through them. You were slamming away on the piano, not particularly well, and chanting Smoker’s name like it was a damn prayer.
“If it weren’t for the fact that all of you are still seated, I would think this is the most genius idea for a distraction ever conceived. I’ve never seen Smoker stopped dead in his tracks like this,” Tashigi was standing next to their table, a mix of second-hand embarrassment and pity on her face.
Zoro glanced at her, not even caring that she snuck up on them, “You’re not gonna help your captain?”
Tashigi looked on at the drunken confession wearily. She doesn’t get paid enough to run interference on whatever the hell was going on over there. She cleared her throat and shook her head, “No, Smoker prefers to fight his own battles.” It was a lame excuse, but no one called her on it. None of them had any room to talk right now.
Just as she said that, they could hear you take a deep breath and scream out more of this weird song you came up with, “Captain Smoker, at the end of the line, I’ll make you mine!”
Finally, mercifully, Smoker snapped out of his stupor and launched himself forward. One arm wrapped around your middle and the other hand clamped over your mouth, thankfully silencing you. As he pulled you off the bench, his head darted around, desperately searching for the rest of your crew.
Tashigi waved him down, appearing to take mercy on her horrified captain. He marched his way over there, doing his damnedest to ignore the stares and whispers directed towards him. It didn’t help that you were wiggling around like a fish, not a care in the world for the scene you just created.
Smoker got to the table and unceremoniously dropped you into your empty chair. The second his hands were off you, yours were on him. You spun around and threw your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his exposed chest. Despite all the alcohol in your system, you were somehow strong enough to resist being immediately pushed off of him.
“Smokey~! Did you like my song? I sang it just for you!” You looked up at him, a love struck smile plastered over your face.
Gags resounded around the table at the cheesy nickname, and Smoker couldn’t help but grimace, “Do not ever call me that again.”
All that got him was some giggles, “Oh my god, you’re so funny! C’mon Smokey, we both know you love it! I mean look at you, your face is all red!” Not only was his face flushed, even his neck and ears were turning red. Smoker cursed over how pale he was.
Nami, who was seated next to you, was trying to pull you off of the marine, ”Lucky I am begging you to stop talking.” And singing. She would forget about your debt to her if you promised to never sing again.
You swatted at her while your other arm still clung onto Smoker, “Nuh-uh, you can’t tell me what to do! You’re just jealous that I found my one true love before you did!” Obviously the only reason anyone would disapprove of your current behavior was because they wanted what you had. What you and Smoker have, you should say.
Smoker took advantage of your loosened grip to rip you off of him, taking several steps back for good measure. The look you gave him was devastating, tears immediately welling in your eyes, “Smoker? Where are you going? Did you not like it?” Oh god, you were even starting to choke up.
As much as no one wanted you to be with this marine, they didn’t want you sobbing in the middle of the restaurant because of him either. Smoker was now getting dirty looks from not only the Straw Hats, but also the patrons in this establishment who no doubt thought they were witnessing some sort of lovers quarrel. He ran a gloved hand down his face, hating every second of this.
“Lucky, you’re very drunk. You need to eat something and sober up,” he tried to gently turn you around, but this didn’t work as you managed to weasel your way past his arms and clung onto his waist like it was a lifeline.
Sniffling pitifully, you asked again if he didn’t like your song, “Did you hate it? D-Do you hate me?”
Smoker looked at Tashigi for help, but she was refusing to make eye contact. He risked looking back at you, only to see actual tears starting to drip down your face. His heart panged at the sight and he internally cursed himself for what he was about to say.
“It was… fine. I don’t hate you, please stop crying,” he awkwardly patted your shoulder, hoping that would be enough to calm you down.
“Really?” You immediately brightened up, much to his relief, “I knew it, I knew you would! I have more songs I can sing!” Relief promptly turned to horror as you attempted to get up and return to the piano.
Smoker forced you back down, swiped a bread basket off a tray from a passing by waiter, and shoved the whole thing into your hands. “No, Lucky, no more singing. Please just eat something,” he was practically begging at this point, wanting literally anything to help and absorb the alcohol.
You openly pouted, but did start ripping off and eating pieces of bread. There was a collective sigh of relief from the entire table.
“Tashigi, we’re leaving.”
“But Captain, the Straw Hats are right here! We should apprehend them,” she protested.
“I am not dealing with the rumors that would be started by dragging this woman out of here after what she did,” his reputation would never recover. That, and he didn’t particularly want to deal with listening to your drunk ass all night.
Just as he was walking away, grateful that you hadn’t piped up again, he caught a look of panic flash across everyone else’s faces. He saw at least three of them spring out of their seats to grab you, and he took that as his cue to leave faster with Tashigi in tow. He put two cigars in his mouth, and debated on a third after the night he’s had.
“Lucky no! Don’t you dare!” Nami was holding onto your arms for dear life, having just barely stopped you from slapping Smoker’s ass as he walked away.
Zoro hefted you up into his arms and deposited you into Luffy’s lap, “Hold onto her and do not let go for the rest of the night.”
Luffy immediately coiled his arms around you, not wanting you to get up and do anything else. He propped his head onto your shoulder and huffed at the whole ordeal, “Lucky, why do you have to like a marine of all people?”
“The heart wants what the heart wants, you wouldn’t get it,” you sigh dreamily, eying up Smoker’s retreating form until he was out of sight.
“Can’t we just leave now? Please,” Usopp pleaded, slumped down in his seat to the point that only his nose remained visible.
“No, we need to give Smoker a head start, we can’t risk Lucky spotting him again,” Nami immediately shot that idea down. It’s not like she didn’t want to leave, she absolutely did, but she couldn’t risk everything that just happened repeating.
—
This had to have been the worst hangover of your life, you don’t think it could get worse than this. The events of last night were blurry, but not enough to save you from the crushing humiliation of everything you did. Currently you were seated at the table on the main deck upon Chopper’s insistence that the fresh air would make you feel better.
Due to your head being buried in your arms, you don’t see who’s approaching. Suddenly, something is dropped on your head, making you groan from the contact. You lift your head enough to glare at the perpetrator, “Nami why?”
The smug look on her face was enough to make anyone’s blood run cold, “Oh no reason, I just thought you might want to look at the newspaper this morning.”
Oh god. The look on her face promised that you would NOT want to see it, but it was too late to ignore it now. You sat up faster than you thought you could in your given state and snatched up the paper, only to almost scream when you saw the cover story.
“Scandalous! Pirate and Marine have lovers quarrel in restaurant!”
Immediately beneath the title was a picture of you clinging onto Smoker with tears and snot running down your face. Truly they couldn’t have gotten a worse picture of you if they tried. Not that Smoker looked much better with the genuine panic flitting across his face.
“He’s going to kill me,” you say barely above a whisper.
#one piece#one piece x reader#yandere one piece#monkey d luffy#yandere#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#platonic yandere#lucky break#ladydoe8#nami#cat burglar nami#zoro roronoa#black leg sanji#sanji#usopp#nico robin#this was the dumbest way i could have revealed smoker to be one of the love interests in lucky break#the inverse of this situation would be buggy singing this to lucky#he wouldn't even need to be drunk#white chase smoker
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Ephemer Week Day 3
Prompt: Heart | Home | Do you have any headcanons for him?
"Home is where the heart is," or something like that.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Hey. What was your guys’ lives like? Before you came here, I mean.”
Ephemer wasn’t sure what time it was at this point. After midnight, definitely. The sky was still dark out, the Foretellers’ Chambers similarly dim, and all of them—even Brain—had drooping eyes, even if most of them had been too stubborn to actually fall asleep. (Lauriam had been the exception; he had fallen face-first into a pillow and gone to sleep almost immediately. Ephemer had half-joked that they should draw something on his face; only Ven’s puppy-dog eyes had saved him.)
Skuld hummed, blinking sleepily at Ven’s question. She was still sitting up, a blanket around her shoulders, but was wobbly enough that it looked like she could fall asleep at any moment. Still, her answer was clear enough: “Busy. I had a big family—we were always doing something.”
“Lucky,” Ephemer said. “I wish I had a big family. It was always just me and my Dad.”
“It’s not as exciting as you’d think.” She folded her arms across her knees, pillowing her head against them. “Mostly we just got into trouble.”
Brain snorted. “Never would’ve guessed.”
“What about you, then?” Skuld countered.
“Doesn’t matter.”
Skuld threw a pillow at him, eliciting a noise of protest.
Ephemer snorted, but turned to Ven, who was watching the growing ‘conflict’ with a bemused expression. “Why d’you ask?”
“Oh, uh—no reason. Just thinking.”
A pillow flew by Ephemer’s face. He blinked, then scooted back a little, closer to Ven and out of range. Sitting next to him, he could see the almost melancholy look on the younger Union Leader’s face.
Ven squirmed, like he was aware he was being studied, and wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “It’s just—everybody came from somewhere. Before Daybreak Town, I mean. It’s just—I wondered.”
It felt like there was something more that he wasn’t saying, and it prompted Ephemer to ask, “Do you miss it?”
Ven started.
“I—don’t think I miss it as much as I should.” It was an admission that bothered him a bit, but it was true; even when he’d been little, he’d always been ready to jump into the next adventure. Never sitting still, never willing to stay home for longer than it took to go out again. His dad had lamented that he was ‘going to disappear into the woods chasing fairies.’ He guessed, in a way, he’d been right. “I always wanted to see what else was out there. There’s a lot we don’t know, and I wanted to figure out everything. When I found out about Daybreak Town, I didn’t even really hesitate. ‘Head toward the rising sun, and you’ll find a town made for children on the edge of the world.’ Who could ignore that?”
He remembered when Daybreak Town had been nothing more than another mystery to solve. It had offered so much more than anything he’d ever known—the Keyblades and the Heartless and the Foretellers and Daybreak Town’s existence itself. He’d gone off with barely a goodbye, and poked and prodded at Daybreak Town’s mysteries until—
Until.
(He wondered, sometimes, on his darkest nights, what had happened to them—the people outside of Daybreak Town. Were they still alive out there? Was his dad?
…Did he have any idea of what had become of his son?)
“…I don’t miss it, either.”
Ephemer started, drawn out of his thoughts by Ven’s quiet admission. The younger Union Leader looked almost guilty, but he didn’t take the words back.
“Hey!”
That wasn’t a voice Ephemer had expected to hear, and he and Ven both turned to see Lauriam very suddenly awake, glaring at a nervous-looking Brain and Skuld, pillow gripped in both hands.
“Ephemer?” Skuld asked, tentative. “Ven?”
“Good luck!” Ephemer chirped, and got a brief look of betrayal before it disappeared behind a pillow.
Ven laughed, and Ephemer laughed with him, something lightening in his chest, despite the late hours. This is…probably closer to home than my old one was, he thought, but didn’t say. His chest ached at the thought, but it was true; he couldn’t imagine leaving Daybreak Town anymore, or losing any of the people here. They meant more to him than anything.
(And maybe—maybe he did still wish that he hadn’t been so quick to leave his old home and family behind. But he couldn’t go back; not now.
He’d just have to do better by this one.)
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Month 14 - Newleaf
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“The desert?” Oddstripe stopped halfway through scoring his claws down the stones framing the entrance to the healers’ den to look at Scorchplume, unsure if he had heard her question properly.
The ginger she-cat cocked her head and smiled. “Yes, you came from out east, didn’t you?”
“Oh,” he melted out of his backbend into a more natural sitting position, “why, yes, I did.”
“I thought so,” purred Scorchplume sweetly. He smiled back. He noticed the tired lines under her eyes had started to disappear. It seemed she was finally getting proper sleep.
“I was wondering if you could tell me about it,” she continued. “I’m considering traveling that way and I’d love to know what I should look out for.”
“Alright,” he shrugged, happy to be helpful. “Um, I’m not sure where to start though.”
“Start with the basics,” she said, swishing her tail over her paws as she settled down. “I’ve heard they’re hard to survive in, is that true?”
“They can be,” he said, thinking back. “You have to stay out of the heat during midday but you need to get into a burrow at night to keep yourself warm or you’ll freeze, especially during leafbare.”
“Really,” Scorchplume mused.
“Oh, yes,” he nodded. “It’s sweltering in the day and shivering at night. Most animals come out around dawn and dusk so you’ll want to hunt then but also be careful for things like hawks and coyotes.” He shuddered at the thought of those massive, cackling things. He’d been lucky enough never to see one up close but their laughter was not something he could easily forget.
“Coyotes?” Scorchplume’s eyes flickered over his movement. “Are they hard to avoid?”
“Um,” Oddstripe frowned in thought. “Not terribly? If you’re hunting and you run into one, just leave the food and it won’t bother chasing you most of the time. I’m sorry, I’m not very familiar with them. They seemed to stay away from where I lived for some reason.”
“Interesting.” Scorchplume’s eyes glittered coldly in thought.
“I’d worry more about snakes, honestly. They like to hide in cool places so you have to be careful not to run into them when getting out of the heat.”
“It sounds terribly dangerous out there,” frowned Scorchplume. “Why didn’t you leave sooner? Was there something dangerous on the other side?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” laughed Oddstripe, flapping one of his paws idly. “I grew up there. It felt like home. When my mama disappeared it felt wrong to leave the den empty - it was such a nice spot after all - so I stayed. There were a few cats in the area, I tried to get to know them but they didn’t seem all too keen to get to know me. Until Stranger showed up, of course.”
“Stranger?” Scorchplume cut in, her voice edged with interest.
“Oh, yes!” Oddstripe brightened. “Stranger! She taught me everything I know about healing in exchange for a place to stay and help finding food. She’s actually how I learned about RisingClan! I guess she was from here?”
Scorchplume nodded politely. “Yes, I remember hearing that. Redleaf, they said she was called.”
“Yeah, that’s what Sagetooth said. She never gave me her name, though,” Oddstripe said, remembering her fondly, “not in the whole time we knew each other. So I just called her Stranger. She seemed to like it. Anyway, after she became my teacher cats stopped by more often to get help. Mostly we treated heat stroke and coughs. It was lovely. I hope she’s alright. I think she’s still there, in mama’s old burrow.”
“Do you know what’s on the other side of the desert?” asked Scorchplume and Oddstripe pursed his lips in embarrassment. Of course, she was here for information, not to hear him ramble on about a cat she would never meet.
“Not first hand,” he said, ears wilting. “The mountains run all along the north side. I think there’s a forest if you go far enough east but I’ve never seen it.”
“Mm,” hummed Scorchplume. “Thank you, Oddstripe. I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me.”
“Of course!” he purred. “Let me know if you have any other questions.”
She nodded and excused herself, leaving him alone once more. He sighed a little and flexed his claws against the earth. Sometimes it felt like people only ever spoke with him when they needed a problem solved. He wondered what other people had that he didn’t. Even his kits were visiting less and less as they prepared to become warriors. It made him ache.
He finished scratching his claws across the stone, abandoning a few shed claws in the dust, and headed back inside the den to look at the stores again and see if anything needed replacing. After a brief examination, he decided they could probably do with some more borage and started out of the den.
“Ah!” jumped Aldertail who had been heading the other way. “Sorry!”
“It’s alright,” he smiled, stepping back to give her space. “What can I help you with? Are your legs bothering you?” Aldertail looked down at them and he watched her use all of her mental strength not to lick them. He kicked himself for saying anything.
“No, they’re fine,” she said. “I was just coming to see what you were doing. It’s fine if you’re busy, I can-”
“No, no, I’m not too busy,” he said. “I was just going to look for some borage.”
“Oh, okay,” she nodded, chewing her lip. “Um, could I come with you?”
“Oh!” he blinked in surprise. “Of course! I’d love to have you along!”
“Thank you,” Aldertail smiled, visibly letting her shoulders relax a little.
“Don’t mention it,” he purred, rubbing his cheek on hers as he passed her. “Come on, I’ll show you where the best patches grow.”
“Okay,” she purred shyly and scampered to catch up with him.
Oddstripe smiled to himself and led the way out of camp, glad for her company. He could always count on Aldertail to be there to brighten his day. He shook himself out, deciding to leave the moody thoughts in the past where they belonged. Today was bright and sunny and he had great company. What more could a cat ask for?
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Oddstripe#Scorchplume#Aldertail#Redleaf#Newleaf#clangenrising
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Phoebe Spengler x reader ~ Locked in
So this is basically mutual pining (pinning? Who knows cos I don't) but they both hate each other but they don't actually know why so technically it's enemies to lovers (but pg)
It seemed like a simple call when it first came in, and it was, the only problem was the aftermath.
Summary: they get trapped in a room (plenty of space dw) and look back on why they hate each other. I think there's some swearing and a cheeky kiss at the end and that's it, enjoy xoxo
★
Callie and Gary had thought it would be a nice opportunity to force you and Phoebe to work together and hopefully start to not hate each other. They were so right.
Catching the ghost was simple enough, you chased it into a dead end and it got sucked into the trap and it was over. The only problem was that the dead end was a room with a singular door that locked on the outside and no windows. Neither of you noticed this until the door had slammed shut whilst Phoebe was picking up the trap.
"Shit"
"Shit" you both said at the same time.
"ugh why does this shit always happen when I'm with you!" You exclaimed, trudging over to attempt to open the door, it didn't budge.
"look, I'm not exactly jumping for joy over here either" you just shot her a glare. At least you tried, you couldn't see much from the small sliver of light from the crack under the door.
Phoebe had set the trap on the floor and pulled out her phone, "I don't think you'll get any service out here"
"I know" you could hear her rolling her eyes, as she turned on her phone torch. You sat down and lent against the wall next to the door, Phoebe did the same on the other side setting her phone on the floor, the torch lighting up the room.
"how much would you bet that Trevor did this" you chuckled at her question,
"how much would you bet he roped lucky into helping him" she laughed this time.
A few minutes of silence went by before she spoke, "I don't think I would want to work anything out just to spite him" you nodded, not that she saw,
"the one thing we agree on" if Trevor did orchestrate this, it was far from the first plan he's had. There had been many situations in which you and Phoebe had been forced together in an attempt to get you two to work things out but you were both too stubborn to let it work, this was the first time you had said more than three or four words to each other which was probably due to the fact that you would be here a while.
You shuffled round to face her, "why do you hate me?" She turned towards you as well,
"i thought we were spiting my brother"
"that's not me asking to become the best of friends, I just want to know why we aren't" she narrowed her eyes, "I guess I started hating you because you were horrible to me"
"no that's not right-"
"my case in point" she cut in,
"but I was horrible to you because you were horrible to me" she was shaking her head,
"but that would completely debunk my reasoning for hating you"
"yeah, you were horrible for no reason so I got my own back"
"but you started the whole hating each other thing"
"what did I do that made you think that?" Your voices were steadily getting louder,
"you were-" she stopped herself short,
"I was what" you had crossed your arms over your chest. You were thinking back to the moment you had met, you had been sitting at the kitchen island and Callie had brought over Phoebe and Trevor to introduce everyone, you had been on your phone but you put it down when they approached you to be polite, it was a blessing really you were stuck on a level of this game and it had been frustrating you. You never got past it and ended up deleting the app. That's when you looked up and Phoebe was just outright mean.
"you were on your phone" she was almost whispering,
"yeah I was playing a really annoying game" you nodded along, waiting for her to get to her point,
"when you looked up at me you seemed disgusted, and I obviously took offence to that-"
"oh, my god you're joking" you really hadn't been disgusted, quite pleased actually, you have a very tiny thing for nerdy brunettes and Phoebe Spangler is the embodiment of that. But you weren't pleased with your phone, "so you're telling me we have hated each other for the past however many months because I didn't fix my face when I looked up from my phone"
"you hated that game, not me, that's why I hated you, and because I hated you you hated me."
"that sums it up"
You were both staring at the floor in disbelief. You had wasted months hating each other because she didn't know how to read people and because you were scared of confrontation. The next few minutes were filled with the sounds of you two taking deep breaths and questioning every decision you had ever made.
"does this mean we can be friends now?" The words felt weird coming out of your mouth,
"I guess, but we cannot tell my brother" you laughed together.
After what could have been hours you were both lying on the floor on your backs next to each other, talking about anything that came to mind, catching up on lost time and also filling the time until someone came to get you out.
The conversation somehow got to your first impressions of each other, "I had heard you were really nice so I was shocked to say the least"
"I had the luxury of googling you before I met you" she sat up and looked down at you,
"no"
" yes, you have a whole page on Wikipedia"
"how did I not know about it"
"probably because you aren't really aware of your fanbase, it says that on the page by the way" you said with a grin on your face. She just frowned.
"does Trevor know?"
"he does but he hasn't looked at it"
"how do you know he hasn't?"
"because if he knew what else came up when you Google 'Phoebe Spangler Ghostbusters' you would not hear the end of it" you were now leaning up on your elbows,
"why? What comes up?" She now looked really worried,
"nothing bad don't worry, let's just say quite a few links for a certain social media platform pop up" she didn't catch on so you elaborated, "people have made edits of you Phoebe"
"what? Edits? Why would they do that" she was even more confused now,
"like I said, you have a substantial fanbase" she was so close to getting it, you could sense it.
When her mouth opened slightly and eyes widened you knew she knew. "There you go" you smiled,
"people think that about me?" Her voice has gone quiet again,
"I mean you aren't terrible to look at" her eyes narrowed at you,
"but what about yo-"
"are you saying you find me attractive?" You teased,
"well yeah but technically you said it first" you went to retort but stopped, not sure what to say.
"I did didn't I" you tilted your head and she looked at you, unsure. You could see the change in her posture when she had decided to play along,
"but were you being serious?"
"I thought it was such a shame when we first met, someone so cute with your curls and pretty eyes, that turned out to just be mean. Obviously I know now that you aren't so I guess it wasn't a shame after all."
In that moment you realised just how close you were to Phoebe. Her knees bumped into your outstretched legs every time she shifted positions slightly. If you sat upright your nose would almost touch her chin.
"I was being serious" she whispered, you almost missed it despite your proximity. You had been examining her face and your gaze shifted to her lips and her tongue darted out to wet them.
"kiss me" you also whispered and she immediately leaned forwards to do so.
She pushed her lips against yours, you reciprocated with the same pressure and brought your hand up to her hair. When you lightly tugged on her curls she groaned and leaned further over making you lie flat on the floor.
Before anything could go any further you heard footsteps coming from down the hallway behind the door and then a banging on the door. Both of you quickly pulled away and put some distance between you and standing up. When the door finally swung open to reveal Trevor and Lucky, Phoebe just said,
"about time" before walking out with you not too far behind shoving the trap from the floor into Trevor that held the ghost that was the whole reason you got locked in that room in the first place. He had a defeated look on his face the whole way home, disappointed his plan hadn't worked. You and Phoebe had shared a look on the way out of the building and had agreed to carry on acting like you hate each other, just to spite him.
It all worked out in the end I guess.
★
I don't know if I love or hate this so lmk. My ask box is always open and thanks for reading! Xx
#cute#ghostbusters#ghostbusters frozen empire#phoebe spengler#i heart phoebe spengler#phoebe spengler x reader#exams suck#forced proximity#enemies to friends to lovers#enemies to lovers
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The chaotic duo
Summary: you and your dad are the most chaotic due ever.
Warnings: tony being evil, y/n getting revenge 😈,
+•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•+
The ENTIRE team had become aware that you both were chaotic, but oh, my, goodness you too together? Jeez, I dont think the universe could handle it.
It had become a regular occurrence to see you being chased by tony, for reference, they had just seen you running for your life, screaming through the tower, and once you ran out of the room, they'd see tony run in like,
"Which way she go?" A few of them were on tonys team and pointed straight to your direction, and some pointed in the opposite direction. Eventually tony gave up and guessed, and he got lucky I guess 🤷♀️
Then he'd just run into another room and they'd just hear a shrill screech, then see tony walking in heading straight back to where he came from with you over his shoulder.
You kicking and hitting him in a attempt to free yourself, this did nothing. You screaming various protests against this act of evilness 😡
"We can talk about this!"
"No we cant."
"YES WE CAN!!"
He walked into an empty room before plopping you on the couch, he began to smile evilly, you knew what was coming at this point (T^T)
"Noo!" You could barely get this plead out before he began tickling you. You started to laugh uncontrollably, kicking your feet and squirming to try and get out of his iron grip (pun so, fucking, intended)
"NOOOHOHOHOHHO! DAAAHHAHHADD!!"
"STOOAAHAHHAHAHPP!"
"Stop what, this?" He said as he reached for your underarms, causing your laughter to go silent for a moment. After a few more minutes of this torture, he let you go. The whole team was still sitting in the next room over, listening in horror, trying to withhold their own laughter.
"That poor kid." Clint spoke up, causing everyone to break out into a fit of laughter
+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+
That night, you walked into your bathroom and remembered, you still had temporary green hair dye fron last years halloween from when you dressed up as Beetlejuice.
You decided that this was your chance to get some revenge 😈
so, you grabbed the hair dye and slowly creeped into your fathers bedroom, made your way over to his king sized bed, and unscrewed the lid.
You dumped a large clump into the palm of your hand, when it made contact with his head It made a small 'plop' sound, which made you freeze for a few moments before returning to your dirty-work.
Using both hands this time, you spread it around on his scalp, and luckily he was a very heavy sleeper, so this didn't even make him stirr.
Once you finished this part of revenge, you walked across the large bedroom and got a sticky note and wrote the words 'revenge mother-fricker' and stuck it on his forehead
You could only get one side of his head covered in the dye givin that he was laying on his side. Now you just had to wait till morning.
+•°+*°•+
The morning after you did this you were sitting at the table, gobbling down on some cereal. Then tony walked in, half of his hair dyed green, and the sticky note still on his forehead.
you immediately started giggling, which turned into laughing. Almost choking on your cereal, which you had to calm down to get it to slide down your throat.
"Okay, now i know who did it" tony said trying to withhold the smile that perched upon his lips.
"I think it was obvious from the start-" nat said crossing her arms on her chest, being cut of by you falling out of your chair, holding your hand on your mouth as an attempt to stop the laughter.
"Thats literally worse then yesterday and no one is even near her" clint whispered to nat.
"Thats, hahAA..thats what you get"
"How is it....oh" he said when he remembered his little scheme from yesterday 😳
+•°+*°•+
You guys also had your cute moments, for reference. Right now you and the whole team was watching tangled together in the living room
You had drifted off on your fathers chest, your hand just under his arc reactor, his hand on your back, the other on your forearm (that wasn't on his chest) rubbing it with his thumb.
You loved moments like this, it gave you a feeling of peace after a long day of dealing with his and your sassyness.
Tony also fell asleep about halfway through the film, the two of you resting in each others warmth.
+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+
A/N: HAHAHA! You think I'd finally make a fic with no lovey dovey stuff? Nope! HAHAA-
Tags
@animealways // @white-wolf-buckaroo // @tonystark-au // @yummyangy // @zebralover
#tony stark x daughter reader#dad!tony stark#daughter reader#tony stark x stark!reader#tony stark#tony stark x reader#iron dad#Avengers#marvel#marvel mcu#chaos#tony stark is a sassy bitch :)
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you find pro-hero touya naked on the sidewalk.
face down, ass up, and completely unmoving; it's a little after 5 in the morning, which is maybe why no one has found him or offered him any clothes. or finished him off.
it's nearly december, but all the ice around him has melted into a slick and dangerous sludge, and snowflakes are sizzling when they make contact with his back. skin a tender pink and baby-smooth; another reason you know he's still alive, aside from all the heat he's generating on such a frozen morning.
"hey," you nudge him lightly with the toe of your boot until he grunts and begins to stir. "i don't know how your quirk works, but laying in the cold like this can't be good for you."
some kind of nonsense noise fumbles out of his mouth as he squints up at you, frown etched so deep that it looks like it hurts. it almost feels like he's mega-wasted and is burning off a hangover, but you squat next to him and don't smell alcohol or weed or vomit or even nicotine. just ash, as the early morning wind stings the inside of your nose.
"c'mon man," you scoff when he turns his back to you, like a teenager not ready to get out of bed. "don't make me leave you out here."
pro-hero touya has tattoos everywhere — or at least in his most visible spots, with his costume. piercings, you're not so sure about; the last time you saw his face up close on a big screen, he might have had a vertical bar through his lip and several in his ears, but you vaguely remember a tabloid article about him almost getting his mouth ripped off during a high-speed chase. you know there's something though, a bunch of metal in his face and head.
this touya has nothing. none of it; born fresh right here, in the muck and the ice.
of course the first thing you think is: clone-touya.
some evil ne'er-do-well has obtained pieces of his dna and is trying to create a super weapon to destroy the city, and in a cruel twist of fate, you get to be the one that finds him. responsible, suddenly, for the could-be end of the world. least you can do is offer him your coat.
you try again at nudging him, with the side of your foot this time so as to put more weight into it, and, surprisingly, he complies rather easily, rolling completely over until he's flat on his back. exposed and bare to the elements.
"whoa," you mutter, eyes shooting up to the windows of the department store he's in front of. trying, at least, to offer him the small courtesy. "you're gonna get a public indecency charge at this point."
this is not the first time you've seen pro-hero touya's dick against your will; two years ago, some sex tape he made leaked and your co-worker was so excited to have it in her possession that it had been shoved into your face, sound and all, in the middle of your shift. there had been metal there, too, but this clone-touya is brand spanking new.
only one of his eyes is cracked open, a thin sliver of his icy blues peeking at you through a veil of snow-heavy lashes. something about him sprawled out on the concrete like a sloppy angel makes your heart squeeze, even if you don't particularly care much for him or his heroics.
"alright," you sigh, shrugging out of your coat to drape over his hips. "don't move, i guess."
it's lucky that he's half-alive right outside your job; in the following twenty minutes, you use your key to get back into the building and pick out a simple set of clothes from the men's section that you'll deduct from your paycheck later. when you come out of the back to find him again, he's at least pushed himself up into a sitting position and is coming to against the wall. in his lap, your fluffy jacket is damp and soggy and drooping and now useless.
if someone would have ever told you that one day you'd be here, helping to dress pro-hero touya like a toddler out of the bath, you — don't know what you would have said. laughed, maybe, eyebrows raised, totally lost. you feel much the same now.
a creeping unease has started at the base of your spine at his silence. finally dressed, he simply watches you, hazy, with half-lidded eyes, and you don't know what you're expecting from someone like him, but the cold shoulder is not it. it sucks that he's actually handsome because you didn't think you were the type of person to get caught up in him, but — all his features are sharp, like they've been carved by careful hands.
shorter in person, and, funny enough, that gives you the confidence to poke him in the cheek, like a brat.
"you okay in there?"
pro-hero touya doesn't retaliate to your impishness — which furthers your concern — only swallows and smacks his lips, squinting into the coming day as it dawns.
you take that as a no.
when you loop your arm through his, he lets you, and offers no objection to being led down the sidewalk. he's — warm, which you knew, but winter is sinking through your thin sweater and the plethora of heat rolling off him nearly has you purring. easy to sink in to, to your surprise, more than pliable in this fugue state.
there's a breakfast place not far from the department store and you think maybe he just needs to eat, or something. drink some water. you've been up since late last night with inventory and the thought of a fat stack of syrupy, buttermilk pancakes is motivation enough to hurry him along.
this early, there are very few people out to gawk at him on the street and you're glad for it, because you don't know how you'd explain this to your coworker if you were to end up in some tabloid. the most attention he garners is when you wrench open the doors to the cafe, and even then, the overtired, middle-aged woman just chews her gum and gestures to a table at the back.
when she brings water, you order a breakfast plate for him and yourself, and the first thing clone-touya says to you, after she's gone, is:
"i don't like pork."
you try not to make a big deal about him finally joining you in the physical world, settling for a shrug. "then don't eat it."
he snorts, still a little disjointed as he stares at the fading pattern of your table. you watch him take it all in: the salt and pepper shakers, the napkin container, the dead flies in the window pane, his tall, sweating glass.
all at once, he drinks it down so fast that some of it slips from the corners of his lips and down his chin, and when he wipes a limp hand across his mouth, you just scoot your glass across to him. and he does it all over again.
despite the weather, he wets a hand to run over his face. "what day is it?"
"thursday."
for some reason, he laughs once. huffy and short, scratchy. with a shake of his head, he turns towards the window, leaning into it like he needs to remember where he's at.
you don't think he is, but you still ask: "y'okay?"
his eyes cut to you, alive, and he considers you for a long moment. "you know who i am?"
you shrug, unable to tell if he's asking because he doesn't know, or if this is some kind of intimidation tactic. "think so." and then when he doesn't respond immediately, you tack on: "don't look right, though."
it makes him laugh, sharp and sudden. "yeah, right?" he shoves up his sleeves to trace the bare skin of his arms, rubbing his thumb over his wrist before making crescents with his nails. clone-touya goes silent again, and he doesn't look up until the food arrives.
before he can complain, you snatch the pork sausage off his plate and the quick action brings him back to the physical world again. back to the table and back to you.
he smiles like a ghost, mouth haunted on the pale, untouched skin of his face. "i have to work really hard at keeping my temperature regulated, or else my quirk will just—" he shrugs before downing another glass of water. when he finishes, he wipes a hand over his mouth, sloppy, and then takes an over-large bite of his pancakes. "eat me up."
you — don't really know what to say. this isn't a conversation topic you ever expected to have with him, not that you ever could have expected one to begin with, but you think he might just be — talking. to you, sure, but not to be polite.
"and if i just keep going and going and going," he speaks with food in his cheeks, and you're a little surprised at how bad his table manners are. but maybe he's just really hungry. "it'll just incinerate me into nothing."
so casually he says it, eyes far out the window, trained on the day as it wakes. you want to say that your clone theory is really coming together — how could he know all that, if he didn't actually incinerate himself into nothing? — but you take in his inkless arms and unpunctured nose and your stomach twists.
"so...then what?" when you speak up, his eyes cut across the table again, expression unchanged. his answer is a lazy gesture to himself with his fork. "you just...come back?"
"good news is," he laughs, insincere, "if i get a tattoo and hate it, i can just start all over again."
you don't know how to feel about that — well, you do, but you think your pity will only annoy him, so you say, "sounds like a waste of money."
clone-touya shrugs and you can see the food get caught in his throat, too large of a bite that has him stealing your water again. "got enough of it."
“your time, then?”
he doesn’t bother to look at you, as he shake his head; it feels rude, like some sort of dismissal. “what’s that fuckin’ matter?”
“okay,” you grit your teeth as he chews on your ice, and try to remember your own manners. maybe he’s grouchy because he just woke up from some kind of ash-nap. “what are you gaining from it?”
and that — has his jaw stilling, nostrils flaring as he finally, finally takes you in. whatever he finds in your face isn’t enough, and you’re reminded, again, that you really aren’t a big fan of this guy. he leans close as he whispers, “you wouldn’t get it.”
and you lean in just as close. “so explain it to me then.”
against the nearly empty plate, his cutlery sings when he drops it, suddenly. with food still stuffed into one side of his cheeks, he sits back in the booth and crosses his arms. childishly, you feel like you’ve won something, and your smile makes his eyes narrow.
“and who are you, anyway? some civilian?” clone-touya — or real, angry touya; you’re not sure anymore — doesn’t bother to keep his voice down, not even when the only other table in the cafe turns to look at him. “y’wanna know what it’s like to be daddy’s prized possession? fine. how much time you got?”
you shrug, crossing your arms as you lean into the table. hugging yourself, making yourself warm against the frost outside, and in his eyes. “what’s that matter?”
#HE’S SUCH A JERK but he’s just sad 🥺#getting all he ever wanted isn’t what he thought it would be 🥺#does he have any friends ?? anyone to confide in ???? does anyone CARE WAAAHHH#alexa play creep by radiohead#✿ willow writes#✿ thoughts: dabi/touya#✿ theme: pro hero touya
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Unbreakable
Chapter 9
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 6.3k
Warning: Some angst-iness, fluff, SMUUUTTTTTT, badly written smut, oral (fem. receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), implied depression (Idk if it's well depicted)
A/N: These two ugh!!! my heart can't take it. They finally take their relationship to the next (physical level). Also I hated that in the infinity saga no one checked up on Thor so I'm changing that too.
Series Masterlist
“I can’t believe you.” You look over at Lisa with a scowl. “I thought we were friends.”
“I guess we aren’t anymore.”
You scoff and look back down at the table. Lisa had never seen you upset let alone pissed off. She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up.
“Just take the cards, you drama queen.” Lisa urges you.
“I can’t believe you stacked all of those draw twos against me.”
“C’mon sweetheart, it’s just a game. Take your cards.”
You tilt your head to the side and look at Steve. “Just a game? I’ll have you know I’ve never lost a game of Uno before.” You say before you smile. “And I’m not about to now.” You add another draw two card to the pile.
Steve groans but has to grab a total of ten cards.
“It’s just a game, sweetheart.” You smile.
“Who knew she was so competitive?”
“All I know is we’re burning the Uno cards after this round.” Nat said before taking a sip of her beer.
You had finally introduced Lisa and Cassie to Nat and the three of them had hit it off. So now whenever the five of you had a free night someone would host game night. This week it was Lisa and Cassie’s night to host. Their home was lovely, something you hoped to have one day. You saw the same kind of awe in Steve’s eyes as he took in the modern yet cozy living space.
“You know what they say, if you can’t stand the heat.”
Nat rolls her eyes as she places a card down.
“I’m gonna take you down.”
“Good luck Red.” You winked at her. Nat shook her head but smiled at the nickname. Something you’d started calling her when you felt more comfortable in your friendship.
The game went on for a few more turns.
“Uno.” You shout and soon enough you place the last card down. “Yes! I am undefeated.”
You do a little happy dance while the others groan. This was at least the fourth game you’d won in a row. Cassie throws a balled up napkin at your head and you laugh. After picking up all of the cards and helping to clean up Nat excuses herself for the night. Soon enough you and Steve do the same with a promise of getting together again soon.
****
“Thank you for coming tonight.” You tell Steve as you stand on the steps of your apartment building.
“I wouldn’t have missed it. It was fun and I think Nat really needed it as well.”
“Yeah,” you nod but your mood shifts. “I worry about her. If we don’t drag her out she’d stay at the compound or go out on missions forever.”
“Some people are finding different ways to cope.”
“Yeah.”
“I was lucky enough to find the most amazing person to help me through my bad days.” Steve says as he places his hands on your hips and pulls you flush against him.
You smile as your hands come up to rest on his chest.
“Oh really?”
“Really.” Steve mumbled before closing the distance between your lips and giving you a sweet kiss. When he pulled back you chased him for a couple of more quick pecks. “So listen.” He says once you’ve both been satisfied. “I was wondering if you could take a few days off in like a week or so.”
“Probably. What for?”
“I am going to visit a friend and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
“Oh,” you can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of meeting another of Steve’s friends. “I’ll see what days I can take and let you know.”
“Perfect. Is Marvin good on planes?”
You both look down at Marvin who was sitting by your feet patiently waiting for the night to end. “I don’t know, we’ve never been on a plane together before. But he should be ok. I’ll do some research to see what I can do to make him comfortable during the flight.”
“Ok. Perfect, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Text me when you get home.”
Steve gives you another kiss. “Always.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too sweetheart.”
You’re all smiles as you walk into the building and up to your apartment.
When Steve said you two were taking a trip you thought it would be on a commercial flight. Instead the two of you, and Marvin, were in the jet Nat used for missions. The plan was that she would take you to your destination, stay unless she was needed for a mission, and come back to pick you up. It wasn’t what you were expecting but you appreciated the privacy.
“Are you ready for take off?” Steve asks as he double checks your seatbelt.
“Yeah. How long is the flight?”
“A few hours.”
“Ok, cool. Are you going to let me use you as a pillow if I fall asleep?”
Steve smiles as he sits next to you. “Of course you can sweetheart.”
“Are you two ready?” Nat turns her head to look back at you.
You and Steve nod.
“Alright. It should be a few short hours so strap in lovebirds.”
****
It was an almost 9 hour flight. Marvin was the first to hop out of the jet in order to stretch his legs. Steve grabs your bags while you walk around with Marvin and then head down to the village you’ll be staying at. You were surprised when you saw the sign that said New Asgard. Steve and Nat had both told you about Thor and how he had brought his people to earth when their home was destroyed.
“Captain Rogers, Black Widow.” A woman met the three of you at the village entrance. There were people working and walking around, their attention going to the four of you.
“Please call me Nat.”
“I’m Steve. This is Y/N, my girlfriend.” He introduced you. “And that’s Marvin.” He points towards the dog sitting at your feet.
“Are you an avenger too?”
“No,” you shook your head. “I’m only here for moral support.”
“I’m Brunnhilde. C’mon I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
The three of you follow her until you get to a cottage. Brunnhilde lets you in and hands over the key.
“You should settle down for the night. I’ll take you to see him tomorrow but you should know that he isn’t doing well.”
You say your good nights and start to settle for the night. Nat takes one room and Steve ushers you to the other one.
“I’ll take the couch.” He says as sets your bags down just past the doorway.
“What? Why? The bed is big enough for the two of us.”
“I know but I didn’t want to assume you’d want to share a bed.”
You smile up at Steve and wrap your arms around his midsection. “Thank you for your consideration but I would like it very much if you stayed with me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.” You reach up to give Steve a quick kiss, one he accepts happily.
“The bathroom’s free.” Nat calls from down the hallway.
You and Steve each take a shower, have a quick dinner and head to bed for the night.
You were sitting at the kitchen table with Nat and Steve just having breakfast and talking over the plans for the day.
“I think the two of you should go ahead. Thor might not want to meet anyone new.” You said before taking a sip of your coffee.
“I don’t want you to be here alone.”
“Don’t worry about it. Marvin and I can go explore the village center. You two go see Thor and we can meet here in the afternoon.”
“Are you sure?” Steve asks as he stands to place his plate in the sink. “I’m more than ok if you join us.”
“I’m sure. Now go.”
With Nat and Steve gone you finish getting ready yourself. Double checking that you have everything in your bag you grab Marvin’s leash and head out.
****
New Asgard was beautiful. There were still things that needed to be done but the Asgardians had accomplished so much in the time they had been on earth. You took a stroll around the village center and ended around the rocky shore. It was early and vacant enough that you took off Marvin’s vest and leash to let him run around freely. You grabbed the ball you always carried in your bag for him and threw it far enough for him to chase. Of course it wasn’t as far Steve could throw it so he came back quickly. Marvin wagged his tail as he followed your movements to grab the ball again and throw it.
“How are you enjoying New Asgard?” You turn to see Brunnhilde walking up to you.
“It’s beautiful. I’m sure it’s not as beautiful as the original though.”
She looks back and nods.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine losing my home like that.”
She gives you a tight lipped smile before her eyes move to look at something behind you. “Marvin, right?”
“Yup.”
Marvin walks past you and lays the ball at her feet. He sits back and waits patiently for the ball to be thrown again. Brunnhilde takes it and launches it further than you had and Marvin is one happy dog as he runs full speed in order to find his target.
“So do you work with Steve and Nat?” She asks as the two of you decide to sit and wait for Marvin.
“No. I could never be an avenger.” You shake your head. “I don't think I’d last a day in the field and I’m probably a bit high maintenance.”
“High maintenance?”
“Yeah, I don’t think I could go days without a working bathroom. And you know the whole getting shot at or beaten up. I’m here for moral support and taking care of Steve and Nat when they come back from their missions.”
“Well that role is just as important.” Brunnhilde says with a smile.
“I mean I can kick some ass. They’ve taught me self defense.”
“Really?” She raises a brow and has a smirk that says trouble.
“Yes.”
“Would you like to spar? I promise it will be an easy round. Maybe I can teach you something too.”
You smile and nod. “I’d love that.”
“I’ll meet you at the cottage in 15 minutes then.” She says and leaves.
You call Marvin back and head to the cottage and change into more athletic clothes.
****
By the time Steve and Nat finally get back to the house you and Brunnhilde have finished your impromptu training session and are sitting side by side talking and drinking some water.
“What were you up to while we were out?” Steve asks as he walks in through the front door.
“Sparring. I learned some new moves.”
Steve nods, impressed that you wanted to learn more. “You sure you don’t want to be on the team? We could use all the help we can get.”
“Nope. I’m fine being your cheerleader and nurse.”
Steve smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes and you notice immediately.
“I’ll see you later.” Brunnhilde excuses herself and leaves the three of you alone.
“I’m assuming things didn’t go well with Thor?”
Steve sighs as he takes the seat next to you while Nat makes herself comfortable in an armchair.
“I wasn’t expecting him to be the jovial person he was when we first met but seeing him like this was heartbreaking.” Steve says.
“Initially he didn’t even want to see us. It took us a few minutes to get him to open the door. When we finally got inside he didn’t want to listen to what we had to say.” Nat adds.
You placed a hand on Steve’s back and moved it up and down in a soothing manner.
“I’m sorry guys. But we’re here a few more days right? You can try again. All you can do is let him know that he isn’t alone, even though he feels that way.”
“Yeah, I know. It just feels a bit hopeless.” Steve murmurs.
“You’ll figure it out and I’m right here to support you in whatever way you need.” You turn to look at Nat. “Both of you.”
Nat gave you a tight lipped smile. She’s been under a lot of pressure lately. Most of it she put on herself. It was wearing her down, you could see it.
“I’m gonna go shower. I’ll be right back.”
****
Just as you’re done getting dressed Nat knocks on your door. You open it and see her dressed in her uniform.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, Rhodey needs some backup.”
“Is Steve going too?” you ask, suddenly anxious about being left alone in another country.
“No, but he’s going to walk me to the jet. He’ll be right back.”
You nod and give Nat a hug.
“Be safe and come back.”
“I will. Have fun will you?” She steps back and smiles. “See you in a day or so.”
After spending a great afternoon together, you and Steve settled down for the night. He was sitting in bed sketching while you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You took in a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves. This was supposed to be what you hoped was the next step in your relationship. You apply some lip gloss and make sure you look your best before walking back toward the bedroom you were sharing and stand at the doorway.
“Hey sweetheart, are you ready for bed or were you going to read some more?” Steve asks without looking up from his sketch.
“Nope.”
At your reply Steve looks up and drops his pencil and his jaw. You were wearing a light blue silk slip with lace trim that barely made it to the top of your thigh. Steve’s eyes moved all over your frame and he shifted to try and adjust the quickly growing tent in his pants. It would be a lie if Steve said he hadn’t thought about the physical aspect of your relationship. He would never push you to do something you didn’t want to do but he also craved to be close to you in this way. So his eyes were glued to the sway of your hips. His mouth parted slightly in awe that you were standing in front of him looking so beautiful.
Steve swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his legs spread enough so that you could stand in between them. He moved the sketchbook to the nightstand as you placed your hands on his shoulders but he couldn’t stop thinking about touching you, how you clouded his senses in such a mesmerizing way by just being close to him. Slowly Steve brought his hands up to rest on your hips. The scent of your perfume was as delicate and intoxicating as you were and Steve couldn’t help but take in a deep breath in hopes that he could remember it forever.
“You look beautiful.” He finally manages to say as he looks up at you. A bashful smile and a pink tint make their way up to Steve’s face as he compliments you.
You stared at each other for a moment, neither of you moved a muscle. It was obvious what was about to happen. Your heart was thrashing against your ribs as nerves got the better of you.
“Hey,” Steve squeezed your hips. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
You gave him a questioning look and he smiled.
“I can hear your heart beating like crazy. You’re in control ok? We stop when you say stop.”
You smiled and nodded then cupped his face. Steve closed the small distance between you both and kissed you. There had been a few make out sessions in the past but compared to this kiss those were tame. In a bold move you would have never done before you straddled Steve’s lap. You were chest to chest as Steve finally moved his hands respectfully to your low back but then he grabbed your ass. He kneaded your flesh before pulling you closer causing you to moan into the kiss.
“So beautiful.” Steve murmured between kisses down your neck and toward your chest.
His hands move along your thighs until he reaches your slip and starts taking it off. Your breath hitches at such a moment of vulnerability. Steve had never seen you naked so he’s never seen the scars and it scares you that he will be disgusted by them. When he feels you tense against him, Steve stops.
“Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
You run your hands back and forth on his forearms.
“Could we maybe turn off the lights?”
Steve tilts his head slightly to the side as he studies your face. “If that’s what you want. But why?”
“I have scars.”
“You think I won’t want you because of that?” He asks and you nod before turning your head to hide your embarrassment. “Sweetheart, I could never do something like that to you. You know that right?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me show you how you make me feel. How much I love you.”
You finally look back at him and see the sincerity in his eyes. “Ok.” You say softly and are rewarded with a beautiful smile.
Steve grabs the hem of your slip and slowly drags it up your body and over your head, leaving you in only a pair of lacy underwear.
“Just as I thought.” Steve murmurs. “Perfect.”
He kisses your lips before moving back down to your chest where the first scar is. The one that represents how you almost died. Steve places a kiss there before he gives your breasts attention. A hand kneading one and his mouth on the other, tongue swirling and flicking your nipple. You moan and arch, pushing your chest closer to him. It startles you when Steve stands while still holding on to you and gently places you on the bed. His eyes are filled with lust and love. With every move he makes Steve checks in with you to make sure you’re comfortable and it warms your heart.
Steve starts by kissing in the valley between your breasts. Every scar he finds he kisses, and there are many. His hands are gentle as they caress every inch of your body they can reach. Steve’s hands sit at your hips, playing with the edge of your panties. There’s a bit of embarrassment that you were already so wet and that Steve could see the mark of your arousal in the form of a wet patch on your underwear.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks.
“Yes, please Steve, I want to be with you. I trust you.”
Steve smiled at your words and he slowly pulled down your panties. Now you were laying there completely bare for him. It made you want to hide but you also wanted this, more than that you needed him. And with the look he was giving you, you knew he felt the same. Steve doesn’t waste any time and settles between your thighs. His lips start a trail on your inner thigh before moving to the other. Steve places a kiss on your mound and you whine before propping yourself on your elbows and looking down at him and finding a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Stop being a tea-ah.” Your head falls backwards as Steve licks a long stripe from your dripping hole up to your clit. He groans as he finally gets a taste of you.
Steve takes his time with you. He swirls his tongue around your clit and gives you just enough attention to push you to the edge but not over, not yet. Then Steve begins to tease your entrance with a finger before pushing in. You moan and buck your hips against him looking for more of him. Steve adds another finger and continues at a steady pace. Your hands fist the bedsheet the closer you get to your first orgasm.
“So close. Please…” You whimper and roll your hips.
“Let go for me, sweetheart.” Steve says as he curves his fingers and adds pressure to your g-spot, his lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves.
You gasp and tense as Steve pushes you over the edge. Steve helps you through your high. When you open your eyes you’re met with his smiling face.
“Hi.” You whisper and he chuckles.
“Hi. How are you feeling?”
“So good.”
“Yeah?” Steve’s eyes are bright and so is his smile.
“Yeah.”
You caress his cheek and pull him down to kiss him, moaning when you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands move over Steve’s chest and wrap around his midsection. Muscles tense and relax under your touch as he moves to hover over you.
“Sweetheart, I don’t have any protection.”
“It’s ok. I’m on birth control and I’m clean.” You murmur between kissing his jawline.
“You’re sure you want this?”
You smile. “I am.”
Steve pulls away from you to undress. He first takes off his shirt and you bite your bottom lip as he continues to undress. Steve smirks when he sees you press your thighs together as he slides his sweats off staying in only a pair of boxer briefs. You sit up and reach out to touch him. Your hands lands on his abs, just above the elastic of his underwear. He takes your hand and plants a kiss on your knuckles.
“Steve I want to-“
“Maybe next time. Right now it’s about you.”
You shake your head. “It’s about both of us.”
“Sweetheart, trust me when I tell you that just being here,” Steve pushes you to lay back down. You spread your legs and let him settle in between them. “with you like this, is more than enough for me.” He kisses your neck again and moves up to your jaw. “I want to make love to you, show you how much you mean to me.” He murmurs as he pushes his boxers down.
You look in between your bodies and your jaw falls slack. Steve is big, and although you had assumed he would be, now you weren’t sure he would fit.
“We’ll go slow ok?” Steve says as if reading your mind.
You look back up at him and nod before your lips are on his again. Steve takes himself in his hand and moves up and down your slit. The head of his cock putting pressure on your sensitive clit. Steve groans as he collects your slick and then spreads it along his hardened length. You tense as Steve lines himself up with your entrance and looks at you one more time. He can see the momentary panic in your eyes and stops.
“Sweetheart.”
“Hhmm.” You look up at him with wide panicked filled eyes.
“It’s just you and me, nothing else matters. I love you.”
“I love you too.” You said but Steve could tell that you were still tense.
He pulls back and pulls you up with him. Steve moves to sit against the headboard and has you straddling his lap. He gives you quick kisses before looking at you.
“You’re in control. We do what you feel comfortable doing. Take what you want, sweetheart. I’m all yours.”
That made you want to melt into a puddle. You moved closer to him, eyes trained on his lust blown ones. This was so much better and although Steve could overpower you, you knew he would never do that. With a new wave of determination you slip your hand between your bodies and take his hard, throbbing cock in your hand. You slowly move your hand up and down collecting the precum already at the tip and spreading it. Steve groans at your touch and wills himself not to thrust into your fist.
“Now who’s the tease?” He murmurs.
You smirk and line yourself up. Slowly you start to lower yourself on his length. A small gasp falls from your lips as your hands land on Steve’s chest. His hands are on your hips as he helps you slowly move up and down until you're fully wrapped around him.
“So full.” You mutter through shallow breaths. “Feels so good.”
Steve smiles before kissing you. He’s gentle and loving and the delicious stretch as he You focus on Steve and his expression of pure bliss as you flutter around him.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby.” Steve kisses you.
You slowly roll your hips slowly and gasp. With every gentle kiss, every praise that falls from his lips, Steve washes away any negative thought and insecurity you had. You relax more and soon you begin to really enjoy this moment. Steve’s mouth is on your breast and his attention to your pebbled peak combined with a roll of his hips has you digging your nails into his chest.
“So fucking tight.” Steve says with a grunt. “You feel so good.”
You can only moan in response as you continue to bounce on his cock. There was nothing but the sound of skin against skin, wet sloppy kisses, whimpers and groans of pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to reach your second orgasm. Steve did that, he gave you everything you didn’t know you needed in such an intimate and vulnerable moment. He lets you find your rhythm in your pleasure without forcing you. His words were somehow filthy when he praised you for being his good girl but also tender. He pushed his own needs and wants to the side to make sure you were happily satiated first. With his hands on your hips he helps in your movements.
“You’re so close, sweetheart. I can feel it, they way you’re gripping me.” He murmurs in your ear and that sends a shiver down your spine. His voice is so low when he tells you that you can let go.
You can’t help but to do as he says while Steve slows down to help you through your high. When the haziness finally begins to fade and you blink away the stars behind your eyelids, you focus on Steve and cup his face.
“Your turn.” You murmur. “Fill me up, Stevie. I need it.”
Steve flips you in your back and sits back on his haunches, his eyes are lust filled. With his hands on your hips Steve pulls you closer to him, leaving only your back and shoulders on the bed. Steve picks up his pace and as he pistons into you he starts to rub tight circles around your swollen clit. Your hands grip the sheets as Steve finally cums with a grunt of your name. You follow close behind him.
“Fuck.” Steve lowers himself hovering you again and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You move your hand up and down Steve’s back in a soothing manner.
After a minute or so Steve pulls out and then turns to lay on his back bringing you to lay on top of him. You can’t help but sniffle and cuddle closer to him, hiding your face against Steve’s chest.
“Sweetheart? Are you ok?” Steve asks, concerned. He could feel the tear drop on his skin. “Oh no, did I hurt you? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to.”
Steve turns again so that you’re laying on your back again and he can check for any injuries.
“No, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cry and ruin all of this.”
“You aren’t ruining anything, sweetheart but talk to me.”
“These are happy tears, I promise.” You look up at Steve through tear soaked lashes. “You make me happy. I was just overwhelmed for a moment.”
Steve breathes a sigh of relief and rests his forehead against yours.
“You make me happy too.”
The next morning had been a blissful one, waking up in Steve’s arms. He had been gentle then too. You had no fear in being with him again. It was your choice, every move you made and every touch was because you wanted to. There had been a part of you that had feared you’d never be able to be intimate with someone again but you were more than happy that it was with Steve. As much as you would have loved to stay in bed for longer, you had to take Marvin out for his morning walk even though Steve grumbled. He promised breakfast would be on the table by the time you got back.
You head back to the beach area where you’d let Marvin run free the day before with the intention of doing it again. The Asgardians are already up and working to expand their village. Some smile and greet you as you pass by. Once you’re at your destination you take off Marvin’s vest and throw the ball you’d brought with you. After taking a few steps forward movement to your left gets your attention and you flinch.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
This was Thor. His beard had grown out, his hair was disheveled and he was starting to grow a beer belly but he was still recognizable. From all the stories Steve had told you though, he barely seemed like the god of thunder everyone seemed to admire. He was more like a shell of his former self. But you’d been there, in that darkness that pulled you apart and made you feel less than so you understood that he was struggling. It was why Steve and Nat wanted to come in the first place, to remind him that he wasn’t alone.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t see you there.” You smile at him. Just then Marvin stops at your feet with the ball in his mouth. You take it and throw it again. “I’m Y/N.”
“Lady Y/N, you are who Rogers is courting then?”
“Yes.” You smile just at the mention of Steve.
“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you. I’m glad he was able to find someone to settle down with.” Thor gives you a sad barely there smile before his eyes move from yours to the ocean. “I should go.” Thor murmurs as he turns back towards the village.
“Join us for breakfast.” You say to him before he can retreat into his home. “Please.”
“I couldn’t impose.”
“You’re not. I’m inviting you. You don’t even have to talk about anything you don’t want to. Just breakfast with an old friend, and a new one.”
Thor turned around to look at you. He was assessing the sincerity in your words before he gave a small nod. You smile and call Marvin. Much to his dismay you put the best back on and promise to come back to the beach later. You lead the way, walking silently side by side with Thor until you reach the cottage you’d been staying in.
“Just in time sweetheart, breakfast is almost ready.” Steve called out from the kitchen.
“We have a guest, hun.”
“Oh?” Steve pokes his head out from the kitchen and he smiles when he sees Thor. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ll be right out.”
“Sit, please.” You tell Thor.
He takes a seat at the table, his eyes glued to it. You sit across from him just as Steve sets a mug of coffee down in front of you and another in front of Thor. Steve sends a wink your way and heads back to the kitchen coming in with three plates.
Breakfast is rather quiet and awkward. Steve had tried to start a conversation with Thor but the latter would just give one word replies.
“So Thor,” you say, trying to get anything out of him. “What’s Steve like out on missions?”
That seemed to be the right question to ask as Thor finally looked up at you and began to talk about working with Steve and the other Avengers.
****
It had been about half an hour later and Thor was chuckling with Steve. It was nice to see both of them look more lively.
“And then as these men lined up I raised my hammer and hit Roger’s shield with it, sending a bolt of lighting right at them. We took about 8 men down in one blow.” Thor smiles. “Good times.” He says before his smile fades and that sadness you’d seen comes back.
“They really were.”
“If we could only go back.” Thor murmured, his gaze distant.
You look at Steve and tilt your head toward the small hallway, letting him know you’d be giving them privacy. Marvin gets up and follows you and you can only hope that Steve can somehow make Thor believe that what happened wasn’t his fault.
Steve ran his hand up and down your arm as he called your name softly. Apparently between giving him and Thor privacy and reading the book you’d brought with you on the trip you’d fallen asleep. So when you blinked owlishly at him, Steve chuckled.
“Hey there sleepy head.” He says softly.
Some of his blond hair falling forward, blue eyes sparking just for you. It made you sigh happily as his eyebrow raised in amusement.
“You’re so pretty.”
Steve laughs but you can see him blush. You smile before sitting up and stretching your arms up above your head.
“How is your talk with Thor going?”
“It went ok. He left already.” Steve sighs as he lays down, placing his head on your lap.
You start playing with his hair as he tells you about the conversation. It was obvious from what Steve told you that Thor blamed himself for everything. Just how Steve and Nat needed to hear that what Thanos did wasn’t their fault, Thor needed to hear it too.
“But I don’t know, he seemed so defeated and I’ve never seen him like that before.”
“He has lost everything, including his immediate family. It couldn’t have been easy for him. Then he comes to earth and loses another battle. As long as you continue to be there for him, maybe come back and visit him, that’s all you can do.” You tell him.
“That’s why you’re the brains in this relationship.”
“And the brawns.” You add while lifting your arms and flexing your muscles. Steve laughs and you join in.
“Definitely, but does that make me?” He asks, amused.
“Eye candy of course.”
“So you’re only with me for my looks?” Steve clutches his chest. “You wound me.”
“Of course I am. Have you seen your ass?”
At that Steve turns crimson and he has to look away although he still smiles. After an easy silence settles between you two, you speak up.
“I’m glad I met you when I did because I was in the same place Thor is now. I don’t think you even realize how much you helped me out of it. That’s why I know you’ll be able to help him too. And sometimes all you can do is be there for him. So don’t feel like you failed Thor if he isn’t his thundery old self.”
Steve sighs as he thinks about what you’ve said. He watches as you move around until you practically lay on top of him completely. You wiggle your arms between him and the mattress and give him the best hug you can.
Steve wasn’t one for naps. But at the moment with how emotionally draining his conversation with Thor had been and the comfort of your weight and affection pinning him in place he couldn’t help but doze off.
Too soon for your liking Nat had returned to pick you up. She was a bit bruised but nothing she couldn’t handle. So Steve grabbed your bags and together you met her at the jet. Surprisingly Brunnhilde was also there having a conversation with Nat.
“Thank you for receiving us.” Steve says as he shakes her hand. “I hope I can come back soon.”
“You’re always welcome here. I think it was good for Thor to see you.”
Steve gives a small nod and her attention moves from him to you. You smile brightly at her.
“I hope to see you again as well.”
“Definitely, maybe we can even spar again.”
“Absolutely.” Brunnhilde nods before she pulls something out of her pocket. “For you.” She holds out a pouch in her hand.
“What is it?”
“A blade of course.” She opens the pouch to reveal a small dagger in its leather holster. She grabs the hilt which was made of gold and pulls it out to show you a slightly iridescent blade.
“A dagger?” You say as you take it and look at it closely. The blade had writing carved into it and the hilt was extremely comfortable. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”
“It is a weapon used by the Valkyrie. It’s made of the highest quality of Asgardian metal.”
“I can’t keep this, it’s yours.”
You look at her and hold the blade out for Brunnhilde to take back. She holds up her hand and waves you off.
“It should continue to do its job.”
“Thank you, again, for everything. I’ll keep in touch ok?”
Brunnhilde smiles and brings you in for a hug. Surprisingly Thor shows up just before you, Nat and Steve get on the jet. They share a private moment as former teammates, a friends, before Thor turns his attention to you. He gives a soft, sad smile and thanks you for your visit. You inform him that there’s a place for him to stay if he wishes to visit New York. Then much to Steve’s faux annoyance Thor takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles.
“Safe travels, M’lady.”
“Thank you Thor, I hope to see you soon.”
With a final wave goodbye you move to get on the jet with Marvin. Steve sits next to you and you both settle for the flight back home. All in all you would say it was a rather successful trip.
Ch. 10
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Hallucinations hypnosis | sensory deprivation | “you’re still alive in my head”
It's so lucky that after turning into an illithid, your Tav is totally fine and themselves and didn't suffer the ego death that is supposed to come with transformation.
*
In the dream, Wyll is sitting beneath his favorite tree. The long grass flutters in perfect, spring-green waves down the slope of the hill, toward the great sparkling gem of the sea. There are years of memories in the salty smell of the breeze.
A body shifts beside him, a warm shoulder pressing against his. Wyll looks to his left, and there sits Kenzan. Not the illithid he just saw in his waking hours. There are no tentacles and no purple tints. Her human eyes, a stormy sea green, crinkle at the corners when she smiles. Auburn hair falls in frizzy waves over her shoulders. When Wyll takes her hand in his, it’s warm and calloused.
“Kenzan,” he breathes. Gods, he knows every freckle on that face. She looks exactly the same as the first time they made love, right here.
Her smile broadens. It’s that helpless, slightly lopsided grin he so loves. She squeezes his hand. “Wyll.”
He kisses her. He hasn’t been able to do that in what feels like a lifetime. Has it really only been six months since he tasted such happiness? Wyll is still a man in love—always will be—but Avernus has given them little chance to find their romantic footing again. He can feel her touch on his cheek. The dappled sunlight. The cool earth beneath them.
When they part, Wyll asks, “This is no ordinary dream, is it?”
Kenzan shakes her head. “I wanted you to see me.”
“Oh, my love.” Wyll knows that pain all too readily. At least his face and figure are recognizable under the horns. Kenzan must feel truly alien to herself. “I see you. Every day, no matter what you look like, I see you—the real you.”
Something unreadable flickers across her face, chased quickly by resignation. She shakes her head. “Wyll…”
Wyll rises to his knees in his determination. “Kenzan,” he vows, “I swear, I will always find you. Whatever form you take.”
She grasps his hands, slowly. He doesn’t recognize the grim note in her expression. It doesn’t sit right on his sunny paladin, who has ever been full of faith and good cheer. “I believe that,” she tells him. “That you would find me if you could.”
“You’re right here,” he assures her gently. He draws her closer, unwavering and unwilling to let her be anywhere else.
That strange look on her face melts away to warm adoration. Though he hasn’t seen her watch him like that in months, it still makes his heart skip a beat. “Let’s just sit together and watch the ocean.”
His conviction does not waver. “If something’s troubling you, I want to know. Have either of us ever sat in silence when we could help?”
“I guess you’re right.” Her bright joy clouds over by degrees. “I wanted this to be a nice dream.” When he starts to insist, she pleads, “You don’t have to be noble. Just for a little while, okay? Don’t worry about me, and enjoy the moment.”
Wyll, adamant, cups her cheek. “My love. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Kenzan meets his gaze for what seems like an eternity. At last, she replies softly, “You won’t find Kenzan, Wyll. She’s gone.”
Like the first instant of a grievous wound, he can sense the horror of it, but he does not feel the pain—he refuses to believe it. “No, you’re not,” he insists. “Kenzan—you’re lying right next to me as we speak. We pitched tents to spend a night with our friends. You’re right beside me.”
Kenzan sits back, leaving his touch behind. “That’s why I waited until now,” she explains. It’s too unaffected for the woman he loves, who feels everything so easily. “So that everyone could get the chance to say goodbye.” After a moment of thought, she adds, “It’s what she would have wanted.”
“You—you’re Kenzan,” he says hoarsely. “You have always been yourself, even through the worst of it. You’re stronger than any parasite. You’re stronger than this.”
She takes his hand, which fills him with a burst of hope. She studies the places their fingers intertwine. “I’m an illithid,” she says. “Born on Kenzan Ironbright’s memories. She was very strong. I didn’t even question making the sacrifices we made. Saving the world against my own interests. Being her was all I thought and remembered at the time. It’s been months now, and I still feel the pressure of her will. She would have done anything to save her friends, and so I didn’t eat Shadowheart.”
Wyll snatches his hand back. His throat is dry.
The image of Kenzan, perfect in every detail, watches him without offense. Quieter, she continues, “But I have far more memories now, and her influence is fading. The most driving of her remaining desires is to leave you all behind before I forget her and become a danger to you.”
Wyll’s mind reels. “Then she’s still—?” Is his Kenzan trapped within the illithid? Fighting to break through, but flagging? He’d do anything to help her emerge victorious over the creature trying to consume her mind and body. “Where is Kenzan?” he demands. “Let me speak to her.”
The dream figure shakes her head with a touch of impatience. “You must know that’s not possible,” she says. Her voice is not unkind. “Kenzan died at the moment of ceremorphosis.”
It can’t be. And yet—was a hellish moment that was, equal to all the tortures of devils. Knowing that someone would have to be transformed, Kenzan would let no one else suffer the consequences. And that transformation frightened him half to death, for it did look as though she were ripped apart before him. Were those the last words they ever exchanged? Was that the final time he saw her alive, when she smiled in nervous reassurance and stepped out of his reach?
“No.” Wyll’s face crumples. His determined posture folds over. “No, no. You’re right here.” Tears blur his eyes. Kenzan’s face wavers before him: brow furrowed in sadness, guileless eyes searching his. She pulls him into a tight, rough, and familiar embrace. He cannot push her away. “No. Kenzan…”
“Let me say goodbye,” she murmurs in his ear. She sounds exactly as she did in her final moments: frightened, determined, trying for cheer but reaching out for some of his strength. He would lend it every time. “Please? Let me say what I wanted to say.”
His breath shakes. He’s speaking to an illithid. This creature knows every corner of Kenzan’s mind, and he understands what it’s offering: to pass on a message. He shouldn’t trust it, but he nods.
“I love you, Wyll,” says Kenzan’s voice. He even recognizes the slight crack in it. “I didn’t mean to leave you. I want you to remember that it’s not your fault. Remember that. Okay?” He shudders. It truly is what he would expect Kenzan to tell him: the implied apology hand in hand with a warning against guilt. He’s weeping now, silently, so he doesn’t miss a word. “It was worth it to save the day, but I wish— I just—” Her arms tighten around him, and she buries her face in his shoulder. “I love you so much, Wyll.”
He holds her close. He doesn’t open his eyes. “I love you, Kenzan,” he chokes out.
Everything fades to the sensation of Wyll and Kenzan clinging to each other. Then even that softens into the merciful blackness of sleep.
Wyll wakes to an otherwise empty tent. There is no one beside him. Shadowheart and Karlach share the next tent over; one of them is sniffling. Across camp, Astarion calls out for someone.
She’s gone. She has been gone for six months. Kenzan loved them so much that even the mere memory of it stayed a monster’s hand, but Wyll would trade it all for her real presence. To see her one more time and know that it was her. Her touch, her smile, her words.
I love you so much, Wyll.
Wyll cries here in the waking world, too, and there is no relief of sleep.
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6x15 Spec
Part 2 of this because of this picture
For someone who’s been chasing death around most of his life, and particularly courting it the past week, Buck looks hesitant as he walks into the cemetery. Eddie watches him from the corner of his eye, as he treks the familiar route in between headstones and greenery. Buck follows, unusually quiet and docile, until they approach a particular grave.
“W-what are we doing here?” Buck asks, falling a couple steps behind.
Eddie pretends he can’t feel the tension in his voice.
“I just wanna talk to someone,” he says, stepping around the pond and walking directly to the bench that Christopher and him have claimed as their own.
He feels Buck hover behind him for a couple moments and quietly waits for him to sit down by his side. Eddie shuffles slightly to make space for him, having miscalculated how much wider his best friend’s are in comparison to Christopher.
“Hey, Shannon,” he says, finally, and feels Buck jump a little next to him. Eddie tries to focus on his late wife’s face, to picture her sitting on the grass in front of him, yellow dress, mess dark curls, welcoming blue eyes. “I know, twice a week. You must be getting sick of me,” he huffs with a laugh.
Buck turns to him, bright blue eyes pinning him with a million questions. Eddie glances at him quickly, then focuses back on the headstone.
“I just... I wanted to talk to you about something. You... you remember Buck, right? I don’t think you two got much of a chance to talk to each other. I think you would’ve liked him. He’s actually the one that helped Christopher with the whole solar oven thing. I still suspect he’s the one who did most of the project,” he says, teasingly narrowing his eyes and sending Buck a suspicious look. His friend’s wide blue eyes are too full of shock to react to the teasing.
“Anyway, I thought you’d like to know that detail. He’s... Buck’s been a very big part of our lives. And, if you’ve been watching over us, I think you already know that. I just wanted you to know that we have him. We got very lucky that he came into our lives.”
“Eddie...” Buck’s voice is barely a whisper. Without looking at him, Eddie can guess the tears in his eyes.
“Christopher and I come here once or twice a month,” he says for an explanation, his eyes still retracing Shannon’s name, her birth year, her day of death. “We talk to Shannon, tell her about our lives. It was hard at first, but I thought Christopher deserved a chance to have her in his life, at least in some way. And I thought... I thought she deserved to know him too.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in those things,” Buck says, and Eddie can hear the frown in his voice. “L-Life... after death.”
“I don’t know,” Eddie shrugs, nonchalantly. “I mean- I meant what I said the other day. After the shooting... I don’t remember anything from being out. I just thought this is it,” he says, still omitting a couple important details about what he does remember. “But who knows. I didn’t actually die... but it sure felt like it.”
“Yeah,” Buck sighs, deflating, and that catches Eddie a little by surprise, but he tries not to linger on it before he gets to what he’s actually trying to say.
“The thing is... after Shannon died, it also felt like I was dying,” he says, and surprisingly words don’t feel like pulling teeth out anymore. He’d practiced this with Frank a couple times, to gather his thoughts, to properly put his feelings into words for once. “I felt like my life was over. Like things would never be the same, like I would never be the same. But I was wrong. I mean, it did change me, but my life wasn’t over. I realized I had people who loved me, people I loved. Christopher, my family, you... I realized that I still have a life, because I still have them. So I came back from the death.”
“But, Eddie, you didn’t die,” Buck says.
Eddie has half a mind to joke, to say that it’s not a competition, to say what are we measuring here, Buck, to make light of the statement... but he recognizes a heaviness in Buck’s words, they remind him of his insistence after the shooting, in his heavy emphasis on the fact that Eddie’d survived the well and the shooting. But there’s somethings neither of them can deny now.
“Right. I didn’t die... but you did, Buck,” he says, turning to him. He catches the way Buck closes off, ready too with a witty comeback or a quick dismissal, and sees the moment the fight drains out of him and turns into acceptance. “You died, Buck, right in front of me, and I- it was like Shannon all over again. Those three minutes and seventeen seconds that it took me to get to you, to get you down to Chim, to get your heart beating again as we drove to the hospital... the whole time all I could think about was: I can’t do this again.”
Buck looks down, for a moment, breaking their eye contact, and Eddie knows that this might be a bit much, a bit overwhelming —even Eddie himself cannot stop to think about what it means, that Shannon and Buck’s deaths were equally terrible for him— but he presses on, because he needs Buck to understand this.
“I just- I thought you were gone, and I kept thinking about going on with life without you and it- it felt like dying again.”
“I’m sorry, Eddie.”
“No, don’t be. That’s not... Buck, my point is... every one of those times, when I felt like I was dying, they helped me look at life differently.”
“Thinking of all the things you could’ve done better?” Buck asks, sadly.
“No, Buck, thinking about all the things I already had and had taken for granted. It’s not about starting a new life, just because you got a second chance, it’s about looking at your current life in a new light.”
Buck ventures a look at him, and he looks so terribly and painfully small.
“Buck, I know you’ve been trying to find meaning in death, to understand what happened to you... and you’re more than allowed that. I just- I think you shouldn’t forget to look for meaning in life, too.”
“Yeah, Natalia said something similar,” Buck huffs a laugh, ducking his head, and Eddie cannot name the feeling that claws at his stomach. “She said... she said that death wasn’t about the opportunities lost, but about celebrating all the things that came before it, to rejoice in the road. But I still have a road ahead of me so... so I don’t know what to do with at.”
Whatever’d been bothering Eddie mellows down, overcome by concern and affection.
“I think you can have both. You can look at your past, and look at your future. But whatever happens, Buck, I guess what I’m trying to say is... I’m just so glad you’re still here.”
I’m glad you didn’t die. I’m glad I didn’t lose you. I’m glad I don’t have to find out what life looks like without you. I’m glad I don’t have to bring my son to talk to you here, that you get to talk back and smile back and build solar ovens with him. I’m glad we got a second chance.
“I’m glad to be here too,” Buck smiles, and it feels like a confession. Eddie knows why, understands better than most how much it took for Buck to accept that he wants to live, too.
With Buck, Eddie knows that it’s never been a matter of accepting death... the struggle was to accept life.
I’ll make it worth it, he thinks.
“Alright, let’s go,” he groans, patting Buck’s knee before he stands up. “I promised Chris we’d be home early so there’d be enough sunlight to bake smores.”
Buck chuckles, shaking his head, and though some of the heaviness lingers Eddie sees that he’s more at ease than when they arrived. Still, his friend lingers on the bench for a moment, even as Eddie starts making his way back to the cemetery entrance.
And it’s only because of the solemn quietness around the graves that Eddie can hear him say:
“Don’t worry. I’ll look after them,” before he stands and follows suit.
By the time Buck reaches Eddie, he’s all energy and smiles again. Some of it is a little forced, but the effort is appreciated nonetheless.
“Oh, we should stop by the store and get some chocolate chips!” Buck chimes in, picking up the pace. “We used the last bit for Chris’s cookies last month.”
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get your ass up cause i won’t, i must have missed the hype, but maybe that’s the way i feel
“Why did I let them drag me to a club?” That was the million crown question going through Alistair’s head as he looked around, from the seat he had to wrestle three different people for, Maddie was in the middle of the packed dance floor, in her element, as she danced, everyone’s gazes went to her, some looking up and down her body, wishing they could touch it, some just looked at her with pure awe and admiration for the way that she danced, others just thought it was cool how she didn’t let her inhibitions hold her back (she doesn’t have any)
Lizzie was in a corner, chatting with Bunny, or trying to, as they had to scream at each other to be heard over the music, but Lizzie was always yelling anyways, Kitty was perched on the open bathroom door, she liked to sit there and attack guys who put stuff on people’s drinks, they got kicked out of five bars, three clubs and spent a particular shitty night in jail because the guy she attacked was the son of a particularly famous politician or something, anyways, you might be asking, where was Chase in all of this? he had already left with a random guy after spending two hours flirting with said guy and ignoring his friends, no, Alistair isn’t salty about it at all, what makes you think that? And his decision of leaving had the consequence of a very angry Darling ranting at him because Chase promised to be her wingman, since she’s a useless lesbian, aside from all that, everything was cool, until a guy whispered in his ear
“Hey, sexy, wanna get out of here?” And he turned to look at the man, objectively, he was a very attractive dude, but Alistair felt icky thinking about the implications of what activities they’d end up doing after “getting out of here” so he said no, and the guy, well, let’s just say he took it a liiiiittle personally “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I’m the hottest guy here! You’re lucky I’m even offering you, you know what, you’re ugly anyways I don’t know why I was-“ before he could continue his rant, something cold touched his throat, and when he turned to look at it, it was a blade, and if you followed the path of the hand holding said blade, you’d be face with one Darling Charming, flanked by all his best friends, huh, he didn’t even notice she had left his side
He was drawn out of his reverie by the guy letting out an undignified squeak and bolting off, Darling was very disappointed about it “Damn it! I didn’t even get to do my speech!”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get him next time!” Maddie consoles her, before looking at a very pensive Alistair “something puzzlin’ you, maps?”
“Nothing much, just thinking about what that guy said” everyone frowned at him “don’t look at me like that! I mean, he was kind of right, he was a very attractive man, but I didn’t feel anything towards him, why?”
“Oh, you’re asexual” Maddie answered
“What?” he furrowed his eyebrows
“You’re asexual, you don’t feel sexual attraction, that’s the whole point of this oneshot” she explained
“I guess that makes sense, but what oneshot?” he questioned
“Oops, I said too much, author, wrap this up!” she orders, and who am I to refuse Madeline Hatter?
#alistair wonderland#lizzie hearts#maddie hatter#bunny blanc#chase redford#kitty cheshire#darling charming#ever after high#calyx writes#pride month
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