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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

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‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin��s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker.

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader

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whencyclopedia · 13 days ago

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Eyewitness Accounts of the Holocaust

The Holocaust was the murder of 6 million Jewish people by the SS, Gestapo, and other organisations of Nazi Germany and its allies in the years prior to and through the Second World War (1939-45). Innocent men, women, and children were shot in mass executions, or, if not too young or too old, they were sent to labour camps where they worked until they could do so no longer. The ultimate fate of millions was to die in the gas chambers of extermination camps like Auschwitz in occupied Poland.

In this article, accounts are presented by those who witnessed the Holocaust genocide firsthand, both its victims and those involved in its execution who were obliged to give evidence in, for example, the post-war Nuremberg trials of 1945-6.

Unburied Corpses, Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp

Wislon-Oakes - Imperial War Museums (CC BY-NC-SA)

The Nazis & the Jews

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945) established himself as the dictator of Nazi Germany in 1933, and he identified Jewish people as the main enemy of the state. Based on dubious and inconsistent racial theory as propounded by such Nazi figures as Alfred Rosenberg (1893-1946), Hitler and the Nazi Party began a propaganda campaign against German Jews, which presented them as an inferior race who were holding Germany back from achieving its full economic potential.

Hitler wanted to remove all Jews from German territory, but the first step was to identify who exactly was a Jew. The 1935 Nuremberg Laws loosely identified Jews since even having a single Jewish grandparent placed an individual in that category. A series of 'solutions' to what Hitler called the "Jewish problem" were rolled out, such as encouraging emigration and persecuting Jewish business owners. Jews were then attacked in such pogroms as the Kristallnacht of November 1938. Next, Jews were rounded up and obliged to live in segregated areas such as ghettos in cities or in concentration camps. Jews were deprived of citizenship and other basic rights.

From 1942, the Nazis began what was secretly described as the 'Final Solution', that is the plan to murder all European Jews. Jews were transported to labour camps where they worked on state projects until they died from disease, extreme malnutrition, or physical exhaustion. Other Jews, and those who could no longer work or were too young or too old to work, were transported directly to death camps like the Auschwitz-Birkenau complex in occupied Poland where they were killed in gas chambers and their remains were communally cremated. Jews were not the only victims since the Nazis also targeted Romani people, Communists, Jehovah's Witnesses, Freemasons, homosexuals, political rivals, prisoners of war, and those with physical or mental disabilities, amongst others. In addition, hundreds of thousands more victims were murdered in mass executions in occupied territories during the Second World War by mobile killing squads known as Einsatzgruppen. The Jews made up by far the majority of those killed, and it is estimated that 6 million died in what is today called the Holocaust. The sheer scale of the Nazis' programme means that determining the precise number of victims is not possible.

Arrested Jews, Baden-Baden

Bundesarchiv, Bild 183-86686-0008 (CC BY-SA)

Hugh Greene, a British newspaper journalist, recalls what he saw of the Kristallnacht in 1938:

I was in Berlin at that time and saw some pretty revolting sights – the destruction of Jewish shops, Jews being arrested and led away, the police standing by while the gangs destroyed the shops and even groups of well-dressed women cheering.

(Holmes, 42)

Avraham Aviel, a Polish Jew and survivor of a mass execution, gives the following account of his experience in May 1942:

We were all brought close to the cemetery at a distance of eighty to a hundred metres from a long, deep pit. Once again everybody was made to kneel. There was no possibility of lifting one's head. I sat more or less in the centre of the town people. I looked in front of me and saw the long pit then maybe groups of twenty, thirty people led to the edge of the pit, undressed probably so that they should not take their valuables with them. They were brought to the edge of the pit where they were shot and fell into the pit, one on top of another.

(Holmes, 319)

An anonymous survivor from a ghetto massacre in Lviv, Ukraine, in August 1942 gives the following description of its aftermath:

I went with my mother to the office of the Jewish community regarding an apartment and there in the light breeze, dangled the corpses of the hanged, their faces blue, their heads tilted backward, their tongues blackened and stretched out. Luxury cars raced in from the center of the city, German civilians with their wives and children came to see the sensational spectacle, and, as was their custom, the visitors enthusiastically photographed the scene. Afterwards the Ukrainians and Poles arrived by with greater modesty.

(Fiedländer, 436)

Nazi Classification of Jewish People

VolksVeritas (CC BY-SA)

Rivka Yoselevska, a Polish Jew, describes her experience and that of her family in the Hansovic ghetto massacre in August 1943:

Some of the younger ones I got out naked covered with blood…I was still alive. Where should I go? What should I do?

(Holmes, 320-1)

The SS lieutenant-colonel Adolf Eichmann (1906-1962), in charge of the Final Solution's transportation requirements, here lies to Jews to make sure they do not create trouble as they are transported by train from a ghetto to the concentration camps:

Jews: You have nothing to worry about. We want only the best for you. You'll leave here shortly and be sent to very fine places indeed. You will work there, your wives will stay at home, and your children will go to school. You will have wonderful lives.

(Bascomb, 6)

The death camps were deliberately located in remote Poland to provide the Final Solution project more secrecy. Rudolf Höss (1901-1947), a camp commandant at Auschwitz, stated:

We were required to carry out these exterminations in secrecy, but of course the foul and nauseating stench from the continuous burning of bodies permeated the entire area and all of the people living in the surrounding communities knew that exterminations were going on at Auschwitz.

(Neville, 49)

New Arrivals at Auschwitz

Bernard Walter (Public Domain)

The typical conditions of the train journeys to the camps are described here by Avraham Kochav, an Auschwitz survivor:

There were twenty to twenty-five cars in every train…I heard terrible cries. I saw how people attack other people so as to have a place to stand, how people push each other so that they could stand somewhere or so that they could have air for breathing. It was terribly, terribly stifling. The first to faint were the children, women, old men, they all fell down like flies.

(Holmes, 332)

Zygmunt Klukowski, a Polish hospital director, describes the train journeys for Jewish people sent to the Belzec extermination camp in occupied Poland:

On the way to Belzec the Jews experience many terrible things. They are aware of what will happen to them. Some try to fight back. At the railroad station in Szczebrzeszyn a young woman gave away a gold ring in exchange for a glass of water for her dying child. In Lublin people witnessed small children being thrown through windows of speeding trains. Many people are shot before reaching Belzec.

(Friedländer, 358)

Yaacov Silberstein, a Jewish teenager, describes his arrival at Auschwitz in October 1942:

When we arrived we saw how the Jews were running to the electrified fence. There they stuck. They were tired of life; they could not continue in this fashion.

(Holmes, 330)

Dr Lucie Adelsberger, a prisoner of Auschwitz, describes the processing of new arrivals destined for the labour camps:

We undressed, had our hair cut – no actually our heads were shaved to stubble; then came the showers and finally the tattoos. This was where they confiscated the very last vestiges of our belongings; nothing remained…no written document that could have identified us, no picture, no written message from a loved one. Our past was cut off, erased…

(Cesarini, 656)

Aerial View of Auschwitz

South African Air Force (Public Domain)

Bernd Naumann, a survivor from the Birkenau camp, describes the prevalence of rats in the camp:

They gnawed not only at corpses but also at the seriously sick. I have pictures showing women near death being bitten by rats.

(Neville, 50)

Seweryna Smaglewska, a prisoner in the Birkenau women's camp, describes the living conditions there:

There were no roads, no paths between the blocks. In the depths of these dark dens, in bunks like multi-storied cages, the feeble light of a candle burning here or there flickered over naked, emaciated figures curled up, blue from the cold, bent over a pile of filthy rags, holding their shaved heads in their hands, picking out an insect with their scraggly fingers and smashing it on the edge of the bunk – that is what the barracks looked like in 1942.

(Cesarini, 528)

The SS, which managed the camps, made sure there was a hierarchy amongst the prisoners such as trustees who survived a little longer than the rest by being 'favoured' with certain duties such as burning the bodies in the crematoriums or beating other prisoners. SS Lance Corporal Richard Bock, a guard at Auschwitz-Birkenau, recalls:

A block chief would call out the kapo very fiercely, 'Kapo, come here.' The kapo came over and – boom – he hit the kapo in the face so hard that he fell over…And then he said, 'Kapo, can't you beat them any better than that?' And the kapo ran off and grabbed a club to beat up the prisoner squad quite indiscriminately. 'Kapo, come over here,' he shouted again. The kapo came and he said, 'Finish them off,' and then he went off again and he finished the prisoners off, he beat them to death…a kapo had to beat and club to save his own life.

(Holmes, 325)

Luggage of Auschwitz Victims

Jorge Láscar (CC BY)

Those meant for the gas chambers were often unaware of their fate. Bock describes the procedure that he witnessed with a colleague called Holbinger who was responsible for the Zyklon B tins that would produce the lethal gas:

…the new arrivals had to get undressed, and then the order came, 'Prepare for disinfection'. There were enormous piles of clothing…Lots of them hid their children under the clothes and covered them up and then they shouted, 'Get ready' and they all went out, they had to run naked approximately twenty yards from the hall across to Bunker One. There were two doors standing open and they went in there and when a certain number had gone inside they shut the doors. That happened about three times, and every time Holbinger had to go out to his ambulance and they took out a sort of tin – he and one of his block chiefs – and then he climbed up the ladder and at the top there was a round hole and he opened the little round door and held the tin there and shook it and then he shut the little door again. Then a fearful screaming started up and approximately after about ten minutes it slowly went quiet…They opened the door…then a blue haze came out. I looked in and I saw a pyramid. They had all climbed up on top of each other…They were all tangled, they had to tug and pull very hard to disentangle all these people.

(Holmes, 334-5)

Dov Paisikowic, a Russian-Jewish survivor of Auschwitz, was part of the team responsible for taking bodies out of the chambers, removing valuables such as rings and gold teeth, and then taking the corpses to the crematoria. He recalls:

…the doors were suddenly opened to the gas chambers. People, naked people, started falling out. We were all frightened, no one dared ask what it all was. We were immediately taken to the other side of this house and there we saw hell on this earth – large piles of dead people, and people dragging these dead to a long pit, about thirty metres in length and ten metres in width. There was a huge fire there, with tree trunks. On the other side fat was being taken out of this pit with a bucket.

(Holmes, 335)

Thousands of detainees in the camps were subjected to unnecessary and often horrific medical operations and experiments. One of the most infamous SS doctors was Josef Mengele (1911-1979), who performed all kinds of macabre operations at Auschwitz. Mengele was, though, only one part of a large SS medical team, which operated in many different camps. Dr Franz Blaha, a Czech detainee at the Dachau concentration camp, was obliged to work in this area of Nazi terror, specifically performing autopsies. Blaha reported:

From the middle of 1941 to the end of 1942 some 500 operations on healthy prisoners were performed. These were for the instructions of the SS medical students and doctors and included operations on the stomach, gall bladder and throat. These were performed by students and doctors of only two years' training, although they were very dangerous and difficult….Many prisoners died on the operating table and many others from later complications…These persons were never volunteers but were forced to submit to such acts.

(MacDonald, 59)

Auschwitz Bunks

Bookofblue (CC BY-SA)

Hertha Beese, a Berlin housewife and underground resistance worker, recalls that, unlike the general public, the resistance network was more informed about the camps. She states:

We knew that the concentration camps existed. We also knew where they existed, for example Oranienburg just outside Berlin. We sometimes knew which of our friends were there and we also knew of the cruelties in them right from the beginning.

(Holmes, 315)

Anthony Eden (1897-1977), British Foreign Secretary during WWII, notes:

…as the war progressed some horrifying reports began to come out. At first it was very difficult to assess their accuracy and they were so horrible it was hard to believe they could be true.

(Holmes, 314)

Wynford Vaughn-Thomas, a British journalist, recalls the conditions of the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Germany when it was liberated in 1945:

In the huts typhoid, everything, had broken out and you couldn't hear yourself speak for the death rattle. There were people lying on top of each other, sick, vomiting, withered bodies crawling on their hands and knees…It was sealed off in this dark north German plain and you felt you'd reached the cesspit of the human mind.

(Holmes, 337)

Mass Grave, Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp

H. Oakes-Imperial War Museums (Public Domain)

The British Lieutenant Colonel J. A. D. Johnson described what he saw when he arrived at Bergen-Belsen:

The prisoners were a dense mass of emaciated apathetic scarecrows huddled together in wooden huts, and in many cases without beds or blankets, and in some cases without any clothing whatsoever…There were thousands of emaciated corpses in various stages of decomposition lying unburied. Sanitation was to all intents and purposes nonexistent.

(Cesarini, 759)

Hans Stark, Gestapo staff member at Auschwitz, stated, like so many others, that he had merely been following orders:

I took part in the murder of many people…I believed in the Führer, I wanted to serve my people. Today I know that this idea was false. I regret the mistakes of my past, but I cannot undo them.

(Neville, 57)

Rabbi Frankforter, who died in the Holocaust, which Jewish people often call the Shoah or Ha-Shoah in Hebrew, gave this last wish to survivor Yaacov Silberstein:

You are still young and you will remain alive. I have only one request for you that you should never let people forget. Tell everyone what they did to us at this small camp, in Buchenwald. Wherever you go tell this, also to your children so that they should pass it on. To remember and not to forget.

(Holmes, 339)

#History #ConcentrationCamp #FinalSolution #Genocide

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cjlouwho · 5 months ago

Note

For a prompt: bucktommy moving in together and the 118 helping them move? 🥰 or them throwing a housewarming party

this turned... dirtier than expected. they both really enjoy clipboard buck, I'm sorry!

“You'll notice some boxes have green stripes, some are red, others are blue, purple, etcetera. You'll also notice, when entering the house, that there is a color on every door or along the entryway to each room. Each box should be placed in the room with its designated color. Example-”

“Buck,” Chimney groaned from where he stood inside the moving truck, “we get it.”

“Example,” Buck continued with a glare. “The living room has been given the color blue. Only boxes with blue stripes should enter the living room. Pop quiz! Maddie, should green boxes go in the living room?”

She responded with a glare.

Buck got the point. “Moving on. Bobby, if you happen to come upon a box that doesn't have a color, what should you do?”

“Make a citizens arrest?”

“No.” Buck pointed the pen in his hand at Tommy, “But that's a good idea for later,” he said, earning him gagging sounds from the majority of the people surrounding them. All except for Tommy, who simply smiled and winked.

“You see,” Buck explained, “Tommy went to the store for more boxes and accidentally purchased 7 of them that had no color on them. Not a single stripe to be found. Those particular boxes are miscellaneous. They should go directly into the garage until I can open and inspect them.”

He glanced down at his clipboard, marking off a few things before looking back up at the group. “Alright, I believe that's it. Does everyone know the jobs they've been given?”

The majority of responses were given in grunts and hums.

“Excellent. Please bring any and all questions to me. I will be wandering around throughout the house all day. I should be easy to find. If you cannot find me, please head over to Tommy, who will then direct you to me. There will be a provided lunch arriving at noon. A designated thirty minutes for eating. If there are currently no questions, you may begin.”

As everyone began to disperse and started unloading the truck, Tommy smiled over at Eddie. “Is he not the cutest thing you've ever seen?”

“Oh dear God,” Eddie replied with a grimace. “You two really are meant for each other.”

*****

“You were amazing today,” Tommy said, peppering kisses down Buck's neck. They were laying on the couch, surrounded by blue-striped boxes.

Buck hummed. “Yeah?” he asked, tilting his head to give Tommy more space to work with.

“Mhm. Took control of the whole thing. Had it all planned perfectly. And when you yelled at Eddie after he put a red box in the bathroom?” He bit lightly against Buck's pulse point. “That was so hot.”

“God, Tommy,” Buck replied breathlessly, before adding, “he should have known better. Purple was posted on the door.”

“I know it was. It was very clear.”

“It was clear,” Buck agreed. “Purple and red are very different.”

“Very different.” Tommy continued to alternate between sucking and biting on Buck's neck as he brought a hand down and slowly began unbuttoning Buck's shirt.

Buck ran his hands down Tommy's back, pushing his hips down when he reached his ass, causing their bodies to grind together.

“I could call him up,” Buck suggested, “yell at him some more. Or call Chimney and tell him I- I know he was the one who chipped the paint on the front door. Tell him I'm sending him a bill.”

Tommy responded by smashing his lips against Buck's in a wet kiss, licking his way into Buck's mouth. “I'd love that, Evan,” he said, parting just enough to speak, “but Eddie already told me he wouldn't be answering your calls for two days. And I'm pretty sure Howie blocked your number.”

Buck nearly growled, his eyes darkening. “God, I love your dirty talk.”

They kissed again, even sloppier this time with hands roaming and grabbing, shirts being tugged on and nails dragging against skin.

After a minute or two, Tommy pulled back with a gleam in his eye. “Now, about that citizens arrest you mentioned earlier...”

Buck grinned. “Bedroom,” he demanded, giving Tommy's ass a couple of pats to get him up.

Tommy pressed one more kiss to his lips with a, “Yes, Sir,” before getting up and letting Buck lead the way.

#bucktommy #911 #evan buckley #tommy kinard #they both get really turned on by clipboard buck okay it's not me it's them #featuring the dorkiest dirty talk of all time

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thatfreshi · 1 year ago

Note

Can I request an Astarion x reader fic where the reader keeps getting hit on/cat called by random people, and she brushes it off at first but it slowly becomes evident that it really bothers her, and needs someone to intervene or comfort her?

TW - Sexual harassment, threat of kidnapping

Recommended Song: Used - SZA FT. Don Toliver

Ah taverns, such wondrous places of inebriation and sloppy people of all creeds. You and Astarion are party people, despite his introverted nature. It's more about being two people thriving in chaos, playing the other patrons like pawns to make the night exciting, flirting with a stranger to snatch their drink from the bar, and all of those morally grey things. Sure, maybe it's not ethical to steal, but it sure is fun.

It's not a secret that you are two of the most good-looking regulars, but it's also well-known that you're severely monogamous. In fact, it's gotten very close to voyeurism multiple times, which has gotten you kicked out of a couple places. You don't mind public displays of affection, even if they're a little far gone at times. All of that to say, it's hard not to notice when you arrive.

Ever since the death of Cazador, you've been living in luxury. Despite rejecting ascension, Astarion didn't mind getting his hands all over the stockpile of gold and jewels the Szarrs had at their estate. After all, you'd say he deserves it. It's almost like being nobility, adorned in gorgeous clothing amongst the common people, and yet you fit in quite well. This rich adornment came with tight-fitting gowns, gorgeous lace pieces, corsets of the highest quality. Those also didn't go unnoticed, but this night in particular some people crossed the line.

You and Astarion brought your own bottle of wine to start the evening, something to get you loose enough to put up with whatever was on tap. Occasionally you'd befriend some strangers, just for the evening. Astarion had a bad habit of making jokes about his vampirism, so you often avoided speaking to the same people again in case they'd look past his sarcasm.

This night in particular you'd come across quite the fun group, and you'd kindly shared some of your wine with them, which was a most rare occurrence. Soon enough you ran out, and Astarion offered to grab something else for the table.

"I'll be right back darling."

He has a habit of disappearing in most circles, but he's always nearby when it comes to you, especially in a place like this. Of course he's protective of you, all you truly have is each other. He'll walk to the bar and purchase a new bottle, keeping eyes, or at least ears on you the entire time he's away. Perks of loving an elf, as his heightened senses have come in handy multiple times.

"Well, that man of yours certainly is something."

A human man comments from across the table, taking a sip of your fancy wine.

"I know."

You smirk, taking a sip of your drink.

"I can't imagine he's all that in the bedroom though."

You almost spit out your wine, surprised by the audacity of this complete stranger.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Just someone who thinks you could do better."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well, I could bed you for a change."

You almost want to throw up at how bold this man is being. Instead of dragging the conversation on any further, you grab your drink and go to stand up, trying to eye Astarion from across the room. The tavern was awfully busy, far more than usual. After realizing he was nowhere in sight, you move to make your way to the bar. Suddenly, there's a hand in your hair, yanking you back.

"Well that's no way to treat a nice young man, now is it?"

This human snarls in your ear. No one seems to notice the situation, as the crowd is bustling. It's not often you get scared of random tavern goers, but this man is far more handsy than others.

"Unhand me."

You go to grab for the knife hidden under the slit of your dress, realizing you forgot to grab it on the way out. Of course, tonight of all nights. Realizing you were trying to grab for a weapon, the human twists your wrist behind your back, making you yelp in pain.

Astarion had a hard time hearing that night because of all the overlapping conversation, but that sound was all he needed for his ears to perk up and for him to abandon his drink mission. He has a keen sense for knowing when you're in danger.

"Adorable, you think you're that strong huh?"

He goes to feel where you reached for your knife, lingering on your leg a little too long. Then, he freezes.

"Excuse me sir, could you show me where your pulse is in your neck? Make sure your blood's still pumping?"

Astarion has his dagger in hand behind your attacker. The human starts shaking, and slowly creeps his hand off of your leg and onto his neck.

"Very good. Now, if you'd like to keep that precious sustenance pumping through your veins and don't want me to pop your jaw out of it's socket, you'll unhand my wife."

He points the tip of his dagger right where the neck meets the jawline, almost drawing blood. Soon after the human unhands your hair, and scrambles away, not before Astarion leaves the tiniest knick in his neck: a reminder. You turn around and embrace the vampire, finally catching your breath. He lets you stay wrapped around his side as he guides you out of the tavern.

"Are you alright my love? Did he hurt you?"

"Just my scalp a little. I forgot my knife before we left, stupid mistake."

He lifts your chin up to make eye contact with him.

"You shouldn't have to be armed so some man won't harass you. Would I prefer you to have a weapon on you? Of course, but if you ever can't protect yourself, I will."

You start to tear up a little. It's been a while since you've been that scared, and no one seemed to notice. What would've happened if Astarion was too late?

"Look at me."

He wakes you from your thoughts.

"Let's go home. Perhaps this isn't the right place for us."

You wrap your arm around his, holding onto his sleeve. Darkvision is nice at times like this, since he can see much further than you. The walk home is quiet, and he doesn't mind. However, he is constantly eyeing nearby alleyways in case that man decides to get smart with him. When you get home you ball up on the sofa, and he makes sure the door is double-locked, something he doesn't often do considering he made the locks himself. He makes his way to the sofa, the plush velvet making a nice contrast to rickety wooden chairs of the tavern.

"Come here darling."

He pulls you back to lay on him, and he unclasps your necklace, placing it gently on the nearby table.

"Astarion?"

You look up at him.

"Yes my love?"

Tears prick at your eyes again. You have a hard time getting the words out, as if it's an embarrassing question.

"Will... will you always keep me safe?"

Your voice wavers. He starts massaging your shoulders.

"Of course my sweet Tav, I'll keep you safe as long as you live."

His voice lowered, a certain serious tone taking hold. Part of him felt guilty things even went as far as they did tonight, but he promised himself he'd never let it happen again.

"I love you."

He smiles. It's not often you just say 'I love you' to one another, it's usually said in many different ways, in actions, in pet names. You save it for serious moments, when it feels important to remind each other of your love, how it binds you.

"I love you too darling."

Nothing else is said. Soon enough you fall asleep as he rubs your back, peaceful and safe.

#astarion #astarion x reader #comfort #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #angst

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

Text

My Friend's Toyota I

🎶 here she is! Based on the song of the same name, by Asiris 💕 I wanted to write this before spring arrived. It's just a few parts (I'm thinking 4 right now) only because the first part got so long 🤭

~8k words

Warnings: college!Harry but otherwise none really. Just wanted to write a cute romantic story. Maybe the tiniest bit of angst (but maybe not in this part just yet). This part is a little ramble-y but I promise it'll come together quick.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

Can’t believe September’s already over / Looked for stars and I found a supernova / praying to God that I can hold her close / ‘Cause I know she’s worried ‘bout the snow / She said “Darling, should I bring a coat?”

Harry thought he was more excited to go to university than anyone had ever been. “For drinking right?” his friends from school asked with a laugh. They chatted about it all the time during the summer before they all left their hometown in favor of the new chapter of their lives. Harry liked drinking, sure. It was fun but he enjoyed hanging out with his friends more. At least when they were in university they wouldn’t be drinking illegally anymore.

But Harry was a bit of a hopeless romantic.

He believed university was the surefire way to meet the love of his life. The person who would knock him off his feet, make his heart grow three sizes too big for his chest, and simply just... feel like he was right where he was supposed to be.

The first semester of university came and went.

Harry didn’t meet the love of his life.

He had Mitch. His roommate and one of his best friends from home. But Mitch was in love with their friend Sarah and unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same way about Mitch as Sarah felt about him. But that was okay. He still had lots of time to find the person that would make his stomach flutter.

But spring semester came and went too.

Harry tried to find her. He went on dates with several women he met in classes and at parties. He heard the whispers and rumors about him. It made him a little sad that some of the women he went out with never corrected the rumors. His longest relationships were no more than a month, but Harry couldn’t help it that he didn’t feel the spark he was looking for and ended things before they really got going.

It was supposed to be all-encompassing. Make him breathless. Knock him to his knees. Maybe he was being ridiculous. At the age of almost twenty he was being unrealistic to want something like that. He was young. There was plenty of time for love.

But was it so bad that he wanted it now?

His dorm room with Mitch was a suite and they each had their own rooms. They decorated the main room with the help of Sarah to make it homey (and also stopped them before they used empty vodka bottles as décor). Their dorm was one of the “party” dorms, but they rarely hosted. Harry and Mitch wanted their place to be a safe place. It rarely saw more than ten people—and that was only when he and Mitch were pre-gaming with other friends to go to a party off campus. Sometimes Harry brought his friends back if they had too much to drink. It made him feel better knowing they were in a safe place. Sarah even brought back a girl that was too drunk to make any good decisions of her own accord. Harry minded over her with worry because the poor thing was all but sobbing as she threw up most of the night and whined about how sad she was.

Harry actually dated her for about a month after—some kind of savior complex that he should have known doomed their relationship from the start.

So, he kept waiting to find the love of his life. But he couldn’t help but feel discouraged as he complained to his mum and Gemma over the summer that he didn’t find her that first year.

“Honey bunny, it’s too early to think like that,” Anne smirked. “You’re so young.”

He shrugged. “I guess. M’jus’... Mitch has Sarah,” he reminded them.

“I know, but...” Gemma smiled sadly at him. “You’re not Mitch. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”

Well Harry didn’t meet her the following year either. Twenty came and went. He continued hearing rumors about his body count. The only ones ready to defend him ever was Mitch and Sarah but he simply didn’t care. The girls he met at parties, bars, in class, they all continued to flirt with him and when Harry felt the hope of a spark, he chose to pursue it—not because of the rumors, not because he felt like he had to in order to find the love of his life, simply because he was young and enjoying his life.

But September of his third year.

Oh.

Harry was appalled that as a third-year student, any of his major professors deigned to have an eight-AM class. It felt like death as he walked with the throng of people headed to the correct buildings when the sun was barely high in the sky. His eyes felt droopy, and he was certain he yawned the entire walk from dorm room to classroom.

His backpack was slung over his shoulders. He shouldn’t have gone out last night. He wasn’t hungover, but he was just so tired. The chance of meeting the love of his life could have been at that party. That wasn’t an opportunity he was willing to miss.

“I told you,” Mitch muttered to him liking eight-AMs more than the average college student. Get it out of the way. He stuck his foot out causing Mitch to stumble a bit and he smirked with a low chuckle. “Idiot,” Mitch grumbled.

Harry didn’t know what he wanted to do with his degree yet. Another component of divine intervention he was hoping would appear in front of him. Love and career. He hoped the universe would help him figure both out sooner rather than later.

Mitch veered off to his own building and Harry counted down the minutes until he could trek back to his dorm room. Harry was yawning—again—and shook his head trying to perk himself up as he made it to the building where his classroom resided on his schedule.

Harry chose a seat in the back of the room. Put his head on the desk and tried not to think about how his bed might be his real soulmate.

Harry was much more awake now that his professor had re-sparked his interest in microeconomics. All his classes were econ-based this year and he was honestly super excited to look at different facets of his major and maybe that was divine intervention. He had four required economic electives: sports, law, history, and statistics. Additionally, he would be taking a math class that was a pre-requisite to the class he needed for next semester. He tried not to think about it too much.

With a pep in his step, he no longer felt like going back to his dorm and sleeping as he told Mitch he would be doing instead of joining him for breakfast. He wanted to go to his next class or the bookstore. He wanted to geek out over the intro lecture he just heard to someone that would care and wouldn’t brush off his nerdiness. What he really wanted was someone to kiss at the end of the day and tell him all about their classes and ask what he wanted to do for dinner—whether it was dining hall food or a date in town.

“Hi Harry,” someone called as he fantasized about his little dream life. He didn’t even see who it was, so he turned to catch a glimpse.

“Hi—” he started to call politely. If it was someone he knew, he didn’t want to be rude. As he turned, he must have shifted into the path of someone else’s walk to class. He bumped into someone with about half of his body. He knocked her phone out of her hand. Also made her stumble off the sidewalk a bit. “Oh, sorry, love,” he said bending for her phone before she could. The water bottle she had tucked in her bag also fell to the ground. “Are you alright?” He was hopeful he didn’t hurt her, but who knows, she could have tweaked her ankle on the edge of the walk and Harry would have felt horrendous for the whole rest of the day.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” her voice was a bit rushed. “I just transferred here this semester, and I’m all turned around and I’m going to be late—”

Harry glanced up at her having gathered her belongings from the dewy grass and finally caught her gaze. She stopped speaking when Harry looked at her. He swore his heart stopped. They were off the sidewalk, now. People were walking quickly to and from their classes. Harry could feel the gaze of people who knew him as he walked by. Trying to figure out who the girl was he was talking to.

Harry knew he hadn’t found the love of his life yet due to lack of connection. They liked Harry well enough, and he honestly was fortunate to have had a few girlfriends who were kind, intelligent, and pretty. Those he had dated the past two years simply didn’t scratch that itch for the fantasy he had: asking about his day, telling him about hers, and what did they want to do for dinner.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

They hadn’t spoken in thirty seconds while Harry dreamed of happily ever after with her. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Where are y’headed?” He asked quietly.

She shook her head rapidly and pulled her phone from his hands. Harry tried to memorize everything about this moment. The concentrated expression on her face while she scanned her phone screen. “Umm... Livingston 210,” she sighed. “Am I going the complete wrong way?” She asked nervously. “God this is so embarrassing. I spent all day yesterday walking around trying to map out my paths and I had to park in a different lot, and I am the worst with maps and directions,” she rambled.

“No, no,” Harry shook his head. “S’this way. Let me walk you,” he offered. “You’re fine,” he promised glancing at his own watch. “You’ll... you’ll be early,” he reassured her.

She blew out a relieved breath. “Really? Don’t you have a class to get to?” She asked. “I don’t want to put you out—”

He shook his head quickly. “No, not... not at all, love,” he murmured. “M’happy t’do it. Got a break before m’next class.”

Her face took on this gorgeous smile that Harry wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forget. The relief was palpable. It seemed almost excessive, like he was a doctor and told her that she wasn’t ill and not that her class was only about a three-minute walk. But Harry adored that smile. The way her eyes lit up along with the curve of her lips. “Thank you, so so much. I’m so nervous and know absolutely no one—except my roommate. But she doesn’t have class until noon. Plus, my transfer credits went in late last week so the schedule I had planned is all different than the one I made in June. I really almost considered just leaving and transferring back—”

He chuckled at her little ramble. He liked it a lot. Way more than he probably should have for having met her only ninety seconds prior. He wondered if she always did that. The need to find out was nearly unbearable. How could he prolong the conversation? How could he get her number in the next two minutes it took her to walk to her class? “C’mon,” he tilted his head toward the direction he had come from.

Was he being ridiculous? Maybe.

But this was what he wanted. The way his heart stopped. He couldn’t ignore that. Was he holding his breath? Was she feeling the same warm tension that was covering his entire body with the need to look at her? This was it. She hadto be it. The love of his life. The first day of third year. His heart felt... whole.

“Oh good, this is familiar,” she sighed with relief. Chuckling, Harry held the building door open for her to pass through. “Do you like candy?” She asked as she entered.

Blinking curiously, Harry wondered if she had some conversation in her head that he wasn’t privy to that resulted in such a question. “M’sorry?”

“Candy?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he smiled at her curiously.

“Okay, I’ll get you candy as a thank you for walking me, then,” she promised with an assured nod of her head.

Harry was floored by her kindness to a stranger. It made him feel so overwhelmed that he ignored how ridiculous it all seemed for him to act like this. So that meant she wanted to see him again. He chuckled. “Y’don’t have t’do that, love. S’not out of m’way,” he reminded her.

“I know... but you don’t know me, and you look important.”

“Look important?” He repeated dumbly and gestured to the stairwell for her to ascend. He followed beside her hoping he didn’t look as creepy as he felt feeling so overwhelmed with how he already felt about her.

“I don’t know, everyone was staring at you while we walked over,” she shrugged.

He smirked. But he was surprised he missed that. Usually, he noticed when people called out to him. “Everyone?”

She nodded. “I think a few people even did a double take,” she explained. “So, you must be important.”

He rolled his eyes with another little laugh from his lips. “Uh...I don’t think m’important,” he admitted. They stood a few feet away from the door labeled 210. “S’really no trouble. I jus’ left m’eight AM from here,” he promised. “Was jus’ going t’get breakfast. M’happy t’help.”

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll get you candy,” she said glancing at her watch and then the classroom door. “I like to get a good seat for the lecture. I’ll... see you around...?” She waited for him to fill in the missing information.

“Harry,” he said wiping his hand on his leg before holding it out for her to take. The first time he would touch who he was certain was the love of his life.

“Harry,” she repeated, placing her hand in his while introducing herself as well. “I’ll see you around.”

His heart was aching with something that had to be a cross between infatuation and undeniable love. Her hand felt so nice in his and it was just a handshake. Imagining their fingers twined together made him ache with want. “Wait,” he said right as her hand touched the doorknob. “Where’s y’next class?” He asked. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened her schedule. “Uh... Sawyer,” she said reading off her phone. Harry’s heart leapt. “312.”

He felt tingles all through his body. From fingertip to his stomach, to the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “Yeah?” He asked rhetorically. The question was more for the universe; it’s way of telling Harry she was here. “I’ll walk you,” he promised. “We’re in the same class.”

She turned her face briefly from him—maybe an effort to hide the blush that was covering her cheeks and making Harry fall even harder for her. “Yeah?” She wondered.

He nodded. “I’ll meet y’at the front of the building when class gets out, yeah?”

She smiled. “Okay, thanks, Harry,” she sighed with relief heading through the doorway. “Enjoy your break,” she called over her shoulder.

Harry floated back down the steps. Honestly, he wanted to wait outside her classroom, but he just met her, and he wanted—no needed—this to work. Wanted it to work more than anything. The smile plastered on his face had his cheeks hurting but he couldn’t stop. He nearly sprinted to the closest dining hall where he told Mitch he would meet him for breakfast.

“Sorry, m’late. I jus’ met the woman m’going t’marry,” his voice was all airy, falling into a seat beside Mitch with a dreamy look on his face.

“Whoa,” Mitch chuckled. “You look sick.”

“I feel sick,” he laid down onto a second chair. Backpack still on. He looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. He was in love.

“Glad you met her, Harry. Finally, right? Can you act like an adult?” Mitch muttered cutting up the waffle he had on his plate. Sitting up he smiled at his friend.

“We have class together next.”

“Isn’t that your math class?” He wondered. He thought about the schedule Harry was insistent about putting on the fridge so they could find each other if needed while at home. For emergencies. But Mitch didn’t understand why the schedule needed to be on the fridge if Harry made him commit it to memory anyway.

“Yeah, so?”

“You hate math.”

“No one likes math,” he grumbled.

“Maybe she does. Maybe she’s not your soulmate.”

“Shut up,” he dropped his bag in his seat and headed to get food. Upon returning with his tray, about three other people said hello to him. One girl stopped him asking if he was coming to her party this weekend and one of the guys that he knew from his pickup soccer games asked if he was available tomorrow night for a game at the rec field. “If she likes math then... jus’ mean she completes me. Still m’soulmate,” he shrugged.

“You got an answer for everything,” Mitch laughed.

Harry found her sitting on the barrier wall to the mini garden outside the building. One of her legs stretched along the length of the cement ledge and the other dangled off the side. With the need to get her to class on time, Harry didn’t have time to ogle her at all. But now, as he approached her, he noted she was wearing a pair of jeans and a pair of trainers. Obviously, her worry about being late to class must have meant she considered sprinting if it got late enough. Her T-shirt was this light orange-pink color. Like she was modeling a sunset. She had a book propped on her thigh and she leaned over reading, like she was simultaneously doing yoga while reading.

“Hey,” he called. Her head perked up and she smiled, putting a bookmark in between the pages and swinging her leg over to say hi.

“Hi!” She chirped excitedly. “I was afraid I missed you when I ran back inside.”

Back inside? He frowned. “Did y’class end early?”

“Yeah... almost a half hour ago,” she shrugged hopping off the ledge. “Syllabus and all. Doesn’t happen that often to me—I’m majoring in accounting and finance, so all my classes just jump right into the lectures and lessons. But this is a sociology class that my other school didn’t offer but I have to take here to graduate,” she explained with an eyeroll. “They were insistent.”

“M’sorry y’had to wait,” he frowned.

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled. “I got to read a bit and—oh!” She twisted her backpack around her body and into the zip pocket. She retrieved whatever item she was looking for and held it out for him to take. “For walking me,” her voice was so sweet.

Harry felt his jaw fall open just a bit as she placed the Twix bar in his hand. “Twix is my favorite, but I got Starbursts too if that’s more your vibe. Reese’s if you like peanut butter. I wanted a variety just in case and it won’t go to waste regardless—”

“Twix is m’favorite, too,” he said turning the bar over in his hands. He looked up at her as if she really was placed right in his path. Fate. Out of nowhere. Like a star exploding out in the universe and dropping this angel in its spot.

She smiled. “Excellent,” she said. “Where’s Sawyer, then?” She asked while zipping her bag again and heading toward the walkway when he walked her to the building earlier. “I want a good seat,” she reminded him. Since she got him his favorite candy bar—and simply because she existed and was without a doubt going to be his favorite, period—he wanted to make sure she got the seat she wanted.

He wanted to make sure she got whatever she wanted.

Was it normal to want to hold someone’s hand like this? Harry’s immediate thought was no. It wasn’t normal. Wanting to hold hands with someone the way he was craving to hold her hand had to be the most abnormal thing in existence. Every Tuesday and Thursday for the next three weeks, he waited outside Livingston, watching her descend the front staircase to the main floor. They chatted the entire ten-minute walk to Sawyer where they shared a math class. She insisted on sitting closer to the front than Harry would ever consider but he was immediately enamored with how sweet she was and there was no way he could let someone else sit beside her.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were slowly becoming his favorite days of the week. They were his weekend even with a packed schedule on the two days. Talking to her was everything he had been longing for the last two years of school.

On Sunday, he slept until almost ten-thirty. He was lying in bed while scrolling through his array of social media and other correspondences. He heard the shower running, so either Sarah or Mitch must have been well after a night of drinking.

Three weeks. After three weeks of pining and walking her to and from class, he got an email on a Sunday.

The subject line read: Be-Twix you and me I’m glad we’re friends. He threw himself out of his bed and paced the main room trying to figure out if it was Mitch or Sarah in the shower. He knocked. “Sarah!”

“Sorry, Harry. She’s sleeping,” Mitch called.

He opened the door anyway. “She emailed me.”

“How 2002 of her,” he snorted.

“You’re useless,” Harry grumbled closing the door shut. He truly considered barging into Mitch’s room and waking Sarah for a girl’s opinion but after doing the very same and seeing way more than he was supposed to of his two friends, he opted for figuring it out himself. He vaguely wondered if there was a way to open an email faster. He must have read it a thousand times and it was only four sentences long.

Hi Harry!

I was wondering if you would want to study for our exam together? I like having someone to study with, but if that’s not your vibe I understand :) Let me know either way! This is my number if you would prefer texting.

Harry thought there were no prettier ten numbers than the ones that formed her phone number. He was immediately ready to text her but luckily had the wherewithal of checking the time stamp of the email to see if he was looking desperate but struggling to care. Fortunately, the email was from a little after seven-thirty.

He could have chatted with her for three hours longer if he hadn’t slept so late.

Hi, it’s Harry 😊

Hi! Glad my email didn’t scare you off. My roommate said that my Twix pun was horrendous.

It’s adorable. Thank you for emailing. I’d love to study. I work until five... I can meet you somewhere?

Do you like coffee?

I love coffee 😊

Do you think it will be cold around five? I’m still getting used to the weather around here. I want to bring a coat.

Harry made a mental note to pack an extra sweatshirt in case she got too cold. Can’t hurt to bring one. You never know what the weather will do around here.

Forty minutes a week.

Forty blissful, perfect minutes in the month of September had been spent chatting with the stranger that bumped into her on the first day of the fall semester. The sun was warm despite the breeze chilling her skin. It wasn’t nearly enough time but she somehow managed to fall incredibly hard for him anyway.

It was a bit ridiculous.

Her roommate—and only friend—was also a transfer student. However, Allie was much more outgoing than she was. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have fun; it was just different than how Allie enjoyed herself. Allie made friends everywhere she went. Their off-campus but university-owned apartment was always in flux of visitors from her classes, her club tennis team, or just someone she met while eating lunch in the dining hall between classes.

Allie was a good judge of character though, so she never worried about someone of bad rapport traipsing through their place. Also, Allie was always sure to keep everyone away from her room, of course.

But Allie had no problem flopping on her bed around ten in the morning and nosily glancing over her shoulder. She had left her email open anxiously waiting for a reply from the most handsome guy she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. “Be-Twix?! Sweetie, that’s atrocious,” she rolled her eyes. She groaned in response.

“I... I don’t know,” her face felt hot with shame. She really liked Harry. “It seemed like a good idea at the time... maybe that’s why he’s not answering me,” she frowned.

“Maybe he just sleeps like a normal college student and doesn’t wake up at the ass-crack of dawn,” she said knowingly patting her knee reassuringly.

“Have you seen the leaves?” She whispered almost in awe. “I went for a walk to get a bagel and—”

“I’ve seen them,” Allie smiled with a shake of her head at her silly friend. The adoration she had for little things was admirable, sweet, and just... if Harry Styles broke her heart, she would break his face. “I lived here my whole life, remember?”

But she didn’t live here her whole life. So, she was in awe—her first true fall since she was a toddler that she didn’t even remember. There were pictures of her jumping into a pile of leaves with her mom that her dad had just painstakingly raked. The south didn’t have pretty leaves like this in the fall. Palm leaves didn’t change color other than wilting brown when it was too hot. She intended to spend every minute looking at the beautiful hues of orange, red, and yellow so as not to miss the pretty season she hadn’t gotten to enjoy for most of her life.

After another agonizing thirty minutes of waiting for him to respond (and breathing with sweet relief that he did want to see her later) she told Harry that she was worried about it being cold later in the evening. She had grown up closer to the Tropic of Cancer which was now roughly 15 degrees south of her current latitude. She hated the heat; it made her skin feel dirty and oily with sweat all summer long. Her hair was too thick, her skin naturally too warm. Just thinking about her thighs sticking to her leather car seat in July was horrific.

But her parents had grown up and met here on this pretty autumn-picturesque campus. Somewhere not quite freezing (at least not yet, so she had been told) but not quite suffocating with heat like home. They left here when she was two to situate themselves in Hell’s sauna room. After taking the general requirement classes at a state school, she wanted to transfer up north to the university where her parents fell in love. Call her a hopeless romantic, but if she hadn’t found the love of her life amongst the bathing suit, half-clad guys on the beach during the last two spring breaks, then he probably wasn’t in the south. Instead, she hoped she might find him around the ski slopes.

She hadn’t anticipated finding Harry before her first class started.

Forty minutes.

That was how much time Harry generously gave her outside their shared class combined on Tuesday and Thursday each week.

She wanted more. Greedy with want and didn’t know how to do it without tying it to school. Part of her worried because what if he just pitied her and now didn’t know how to get away from her? They had class together; he couldn’t be rude. Even if he didn’t like her the way she was already falling for him, it was very obvious that Harry was a good person.

“Just be careful,” Allie warned lightly. “Harry has a bit of a reputation I hear.”

She frowned and shrugged. She knew what Allie meant. People around her weren’t exactly subtle and while she listened to music in the dining hall while she ate, or studied in the library, or even just read her book. Those around her whispered. They had seen the pair of them walking to class. Apparently, Harry never looked like that before. The whispers included Harry having plenty of girlfriends. Sometimes two or even three at a time. That just seemed ridiculous, and she felt so sad others talked about him behind his back. There were even quiet bets about how long she would last in the list of Styles’ conquests.

So, she understood that Allie was just trying to look out for her. “Well... I like him. He doesn’t have a reputation around me,” she shrugged. Allie frowned for a moment. She was so sweet.

“Just be careful with your heart,” Allie looked at her with a bit of worry in her eye. But her smile was encouraging. “It’s too good for university guys.”

She had only known Allie about three months longer than she had known Harry. They both moved in at the start of the summer, working off campus and getting to know one another as well as the area (not that it helped her directionally illiterate mind). Allie was lovely and all the things she wanted in a college-best-friend that she never really got from commuting to the local college when she lived down south. “I think you would like him.”

“I can like him and still want someone better for you,” she shrugged leaning in the doorway. She didn’t want to taint the image of perfect Harry. But the stories she heard weren’t easy to ignore. She had seen him at parties since her best friend met him on her way to her sociology class. It was hard to miss him. It was like he was the star of every party.

He drank with his friends and girls obsessed over him. To her friend’s nearly naïve point of view, however, Allie hadn’t seen Harry flirt back. He was helpful and kind to those that drank too much; guiding them outside and gently pulling a girl’s hair back for when she threw up in the shrubs. It was endearing in a lot of ways. But she would still kill him if the rumors of a string of girls was true. If her new best friend was just another notch in his belt, Harry was dead. “You are so sweet to believe in the good in everyone. I just don’t want you to be heartbroken if he isn’t as lovely as you think.”

She smirked looking at the emojis and rapid influx of messages Harry was sending her trying to coordinate timing and picking her up, so she didn’t have to walk. “I won’t,” she promised. But she didn’t say that she thought he was better.

Harry was fifteen minutes late. He blamed the table he was waiting on before he left. They were overbearing and wanted their meal comped—that much was obvious. Looking for the smallest hiccups to rebuke him. Harry begged his manager to seat them in another section. Having waited on them before, but no dice. His heart was in his throat wishing he had time to go home and change but he couldn’t. If he was a moment later, he was sure he was ruining everything.

Unaware of Harry’s worry, she waited patiently on the bench outside the apartment building the university had taken as more dorm suites. She continued reading her book trying not to think about how maybe Harry had better things to do than study for a math class on a Sunday. Especially after work. But he had texted her he was running late, and he was on his way.

She was glad she decided on a coat, it wasn’t freezing, but her thick skin ill-suited for hot weather was already thawing and feeling the chill of the early October weather. She spent an embarrassingly long time sorting through her athleisure wear trying to decide. Something suitable for studying at a coffee shop that wasn’t overstated but not quite sweatpants.

Right when she thought about calling Harry, he appeared in front of the bench. Parking and getting out of his car quickly and hurrying to the passenger side. “I am so sorry,” he said hurriedly dragging a hand through his curls. She admired the motion; enjoying how mussing them didn’t matter much and they fell right back into place. She cleared her throat and shook herself out of her own staring at him.

“For what?”

“M’so late, love. S’rude. M’sorry,” he repeated.

“Oh...it’s...it’s really okay. I was already out here—”

“S’cold,” he frowned eyeing her sweatshirt and the coat at her side.

“I’m okay!” She promised. “Is everything alright?” She asked and stepped toward him putting her hand on his forearm. He thought he might explode at the feeling of her skin on his. It was more intimate than their handshake, and she got the feeling she wanted to twine their fingers together again.

Harry seemed to breathe with a sigh of relief, and he looked at her with this stunned expression. She couldn’t figure out why. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Jus’ felt bad being late.”

“Oh,” she blinked. “That’s okay. I wasn’t in a rush or anything—”

“No, love,” he shook his head. “M’sorry because I wanted t’see you so bad,” he sighed. He ran his hand through his hair again making her heart take off at a speed that had to be unsafe for her health. Almost immediately she felt light-headed. He wanted to see her. He just told her that. There was no hiding it. She could feel that emotion thick in his voice.

“Oh,” she repeated, completely stunned and confused. “Really?” She asked in complete shock.

“Yes, very, very much,” he sighed dreamily.

Her cheeks warmed hotly under his gaze. The pair of them stood there. Staring at one another as if they were statues destined to look at one another for all eternity, frozen in time to capture a moment like theirs. The October air was rapidly cooling, but she couldn’t feel anything but heat. Like she had stepped out of the airport terminal back in the south except this heat was not suffocating. It was so welcoming.

For a few moments they just stood there, her hand touching his forearm, gazing at one another. Part of her thought it would be nice to be a statue on the street. At least if Harry was beside her. Eventually, he shook his head ever so slightly and smirked. “So...coffee?”

She cleared her throat, smiling brightly. “Please.”

Just one week later, she was chatting with a friend from her sociology class. The moment he saw Harry, he knew Harry was there waiting for her, just as he had been since they met a month earlier. Harry recognized him from attending many parties that his frat hosted at one of the houses someone had off campus. His eyes seemed a bit surprised to see Harry waiting at the bottom of the steps, doing a double take at him waiting for the girl he was walking with down the steps.

“Hey Harry,” the guy said quietly.

“Hi!” She chirped gleefully. Her excited smile felt like too much on her face, but she had no way of knowing. She also didn’t notice the turmoil the guy felt seeing the competition between himself and Harry. (If she did know, she would flat out tell him there was no competition—other than school, Allie, and work, her mind was all about Harry.)

“Hi,” he said politely with a smile and turned toward the person he actually cared about talking to. “Y’ready for math, love?” He asked gently.

“Always,” she started for the main door. “See you around!” she called sweetly over her shoulder.

On Saturday, Allie asked if she wanted to go to a party with her. She was more than happy to stay in and read her book. But she teased her. “Harry might be there,” she winked knowingly.

As much as she didn’t pay any attention to the rumors about Harry, it was hard to fully ignore them the way she wanted to. It wasn’t that she distrusted Harry. No, if anything, she believed in him more than anyone else. But it did sound like Harry had a different party persona. She was not a party person. Honestly, she wanted him to have fun they way he wanted to. Going to a party just because he was there...

“That’s alright, I think—”

“Oh, come on!” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll help you get all dolled up and we’ll just have a couple drinks, and we can leave if you hate it. But if Harry is as smitten as you say he is, I bet he won’t let you leave,” she giggled.

Her face warmed at her friend’s assumption and she tried to picture a scenario in which someone as attractive as Harry would worry about little ole her like that. “Isn’t it cold out?”

“So wear another sweater!” Allie rolled her eyes.

“That’s not very college party of me.”

“Well, I would suggest an alcohol blanket, but I feel like getting you drunk before you even see Harry would be bad.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll make me look pretty?” She asked quietly at her friend in the doorway.

“Prettier,” Allie nodded assuredly.

“Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s go to a party.”

Allie’s arm was looped through hers. It was freezing out. But honestly it felt nice. She was just a bit shivery. “I thought you said I could wear another sweater.”

“Sweetie, hiding your assets at a party would be criminal.”

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. They entered the door, dodging the guy standing at the door to keep people in and out very quickly. “Hey Allie,” he said.

She waved in response and headed right inside. She thought maybe it was a good thing Allie told her to skip the sweater. The heat inside the house was nearly as warm and humid as the airport terminal. The air was thick with the sour smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat. “I don’t know how people want to hook up with anybody around here. I can’t think of very many places that are less of an aphrodisiac.”

Allie smirked and pushed the pair of them through a throng of bodies toward the kitchen. She grabbed two red cups from the sleeve of them off the counter and asked the makeshift bartender—surely some poor freshmen pledge—to pour them drinks. Her gut felt a little off about the gesture. “I don’t know, Al,” she whispered softly.

“I’ve had them here before,” Allie promised reassuringly. She still wasn’t thrilled with the idea as she took the cup from her friend.

“Hey Allie!” Someone called. Allie turned, looking over her shoulder as she called back over the pounding music. Meanwhile she looked at the liquid sloshing along with the ice. She thought maybe she should have taken her chances with the jungle juice—no one would be stupid enough to touch that, even if it would end with her throwing it all back up at the end of the night.

The pair of them circled around the house, briefly stopping to watch the end of a rousing game of beer pong. The winning person slammed his beer back, dripping along the sides of his mouth triumphantly which made her smile. Allie rolled her eyes and tugged her out back. A bon fire was in the middle of the yard. Another sober freshman pledge, undoubtedly in charge of standing guard. The music was still loud but way less aggressive outside. There were other large groups of people outside as well chattering and drinking away. Allie worked quick; left her alone by the fire—which she was grateful for since it was warm. When Allie returned, she was already sipping her second drink, holding a third, and dropping her empty cup in the trash bin right near the house. Oof, her head was going to kill tomorrow.

“Harry’s here,” Allie whispered to her as she got close to her again. There was a twinge in her knees, like she might fall at the mere thought of him. It took all her self-restraint to not whip around to catch a glimpse of him. She wasn’t playing hard to get, but this was very much not her scene. She didn’t want to intrude on whatever fun he was having. “You should go say hi,” Allie nudged her.

She smirked, wanting to take a sip of her drink but still feeling hesitant so she just put the cup to her lips, like she was pretending to sip it. “Uh...maybe later. I don’t want to interrupt,” she responded directly in Allie’s ear. The good news was she managed to peek over her shoulder to see him standing a little ways away from the fire. It was too dark to make out any specific features or defining muscles but just the way he stood was hot. She felt insane for thinking such a thing, but it was impossible not to. He was so cute. He had one hand in his front pocket, a drink in the other hand, and just a plaid flannel layered over another plaid flannel. His eyes and smile were lost in the dark, but she could picture it. The light evergreen color that was simply her new favorite color along with the pinkest most adorable lips curling across his face and making dimples in his cheeks that would make the Grand Canyon jealous of their depth.

“I think he would probably die if you interrupted,” she snickered.

Briefly, she entertained the idea. She could ask how Harry was doing on his homework, but that wasn’t the best party talk in the world (even if she did want to know). But she was still a little nervous, especially outside class, their walk, and even their study not-quite date to chat with him about anything. A party was more than likely his element. She could see why. Girls were surrounding him ogling very much the same things that she probably ogled on her way to math class. He was easy to talk to, sweet, and of course very handsome.

She shook her head. “Do they have s’mores?” She asked suddenly.

Allie spit her drink back into her cup and laughed. “Jesus Christ,” Allie rolled her eyes. “No; college-students don’t have s’mores at a party.”

She frowned. “I feel like this party would be a lot better if it did,” she grumbled.

Allie wrapped her arm over her shoulder. “Don’t ever change, please,” she kissed her cheek. She laughed lightly.

“If we had a party with a fire, I promise there would be s’mores,” she was very decisive. “It seems sinful to not have them.”

“Hey, love.”

She felt her whole body stiffen and somehow soften at the same time. They both turned to his voice and now she could see in the firelight, that the red colors of his flannel contrasted so sharply with his eyes. The green seemed to amplify—even in the dark. “Hi, Harry,” she smiled sweetly.

“Didn’t know y’would be here.”

“Yeah...uh... this is my best friend and roommate Allie,” she gestured to the girl beside her. “She invited me,” she explained.

“Hi, Harry,” Allie held her hand out. “Heard lots about you. And seen you around a lot,” she said knowingly.

“Hi, Allie,” he said sweetly shaking her hand politely. “Thanks for bringing her,” he grinned winking at her flirtatiously. “Can I steal her from you?” he asked. “If s’alright with you,” he turned back to her, looking into her eyes so deeply she swore he was reading her mind. Not that there were any other thoughts than Harry, Harry, Harry.

“Listen Harry,” Allie said squaring her shoulders.

“Oh my God, Al,” she shoved her back a bit. “Don’t.”

Harry took a step away and looked back at Allie nervously. “This is my best friend,” Allie said with the third drink doing most of the talking.

“Allie!” She hissed.

“I love her so much,” tipsy-Allie was very loving and adoring. A bit flighty too. If she didn’t have a rush of alcohol spinning her blood quickly through her, she might have been a little less aggressive.

“I see,” Harry smiled. “I will take really good care of her Allie. I promise. Y’have nothing t’worry ‘bout,” he shoved a hand back in his pocket. He looked at her shyly, knowing that Harry was also talking directly to her and not just her tipsy best friend. “I should have asked though,” he said with a smile. “D’you...want t’hang out a bit?” He asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“How polite,” Allie snickered. Her smile faded rapidly as she glared back at Harry. If she wasn’t so focused on him, she might have missed the way he gulped nervously. “Don’t break her heart, Harry,” she pointed accusingly at him.

“Allie, enough!” She pressed a hand over her face.

“Don’t leave without me, either. I’ll be with my friends,” she said and flitted away as if there was nothing abnormal about her behavior.

“I’m so sorry about her,” she whispered still with a hand over her face. Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’okay. S’good she cares ‘bout you so much,” he nodded. “I agree completely,” he assured her. “M’really glad t’see you. I was so surprised and distracted...I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have asked first t’steal y’away...” he glanced at her full cup. “Don’t like your drink?” He asked.

“Um...no, well. Kind of. I’m a little wary of accepting it from someone I don’t know.”

Harry didn’t try to talk her out of how she felt which made her heart flutter more. “S’a good point...d’you want t’walk to the bar down the road?” He asked.

“I’d have to leave Allie,” she smirked. “Not sure I want to put that on someone else.”

“Hold on,” he said and rushed off to the house. It was only a couple minutes, if that. But he reappeared with a can in his hand. “I pulled it out of the fridge when the kid was turned,” he smirked.

She giggled. “My hero,” she laughed and sipped it without fear.

“So... d’you want t’go...find some place quieter t’talk?”

She glanced at the house. “Is there somewhere to talk?” She asked.

“Yeah... m’friend Niall and his friends are hosting. He’s got a keypad lock on his door, and I know the code t’his bedroom.”

“You always try to get girls into your friend’s room?” She asked quirking an eyebrow at him while sipping her drink. He chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’nothing like that, love. Jus’ want some privacy.”

“Well, that’s fine by me, even by the fire, it’s chilly out here.”

“You’re cold? Here,” he pulled off the top flannel and draped it on her shoulders then put a hand on her lower back to guide her back toward the house. She could feel the stares of others on them as they meandered back. “S’not even winter yet. S’gonna be tough on your southern blood,” he smiled.

She smiled. “My parents are from here. I think there’s some northerner in me yet. Just got to get it out of hibernation.”

Harry chuckled. “You’ll still need a coat, love,” he promised.

If Harry was going to offer his own clothing to her, she wasn’t sure she’d want to bring her own coat at all.

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year ago

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Not Like I'm in Love with You

Summary: For the longest time, it was you and Maria. A package duo. A dynamic team. Agent Hill and Gaia. But you were always just friends, nothing more. Until a mission goes wrong forces Maria to admit her feelings for you.

Warnings: jealously, angst with a happy ending, surgery, medically induced coma, bomb, eco terrorist?, reader is enhanced, mention of drinking and sexual activity, love confession

Word Count: 5.2k

“My savior,” Natasha groaned as you handed the redhead a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. She moaned, taking a sip of the coffee. “I could marry you right now.” You shook her head at her antics and passed the rest of the goodies to the team. Clint had his feet on the table and head thrown back, and a pair of sunglasses covered his eyes. He grunted out a thanks when he set his order down. The rest of the team was in different states of hungover, barely muttering a greeting. You chuckled.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have gone out on a school night,” you teased, sitting down at your desk so you could eat your own. Clint groaned.

“You aren’t my mom,” You felt like it.

“Where’s the boss?” You questioned.

“Probably untangling herself from the blonde she went home with,” May mumbled, holding a cold towel to her forehead. Why did your stomach drop when she said that? The team had the right to party after a job well done. The case had a breakthrough, and they wanted to go out. Like always, you refused, you weren’t much of a drinker, and you didn’t trust yourself drunk with your abilities. You were an Eco-empathy, allowing you to connect deeply with the environment and sense, understand, and manipulate the natural world. SHIELD nicknamed you Gaia, and your fellow agents called you various Earth-related names. You and Maria were just friends, right? When Fury picked her as Deputy Director, she prompted you alongside her. You were her second in command; while she went out in the field, you stayed behind to run point. It was how you two operated a well-oiled machine. Co-workers. Best friends at most. Like you’ve been, right? Natasha raised an eyebrow at you.

The door opened, and Maria walked in. “Ah, she emerges from her walk of shame,” Natasha teased. Maria flipped her off and thanked you with a smile for her breakfast.

“Ain’t nothing shameful what I did last night,” Natasha cringed. Thankfully, Maria’s back was to you, so she missed the frown on your face. The redhead saw it. “Alright,” she said. “What’s the plan?”

“You missed a hell of a party,” Maria said as you handed your mock battle plan for the upcoming mission. It would go through her than Fury before it was green lite; the more eyes, the better when it came to people’s lives.

“All these years you’ve known me, you know clubs aren’t my scene,” you sat on the edge of her desk. There was a picture of you and her during your SHIELD graduation. “Besides, how long were you there until an innocent woman fell under your spell?” You teased, but it didn’t feel enjoyable in your mouth.

“She wasn’t so innocent when I had my way with her,” you faked a gag. It was typical behavior between you two to talk about the woman you brought home; more times than not, Maria had the stories. But why did you feel like you could throw up right now?

“I can tell by that hickey on your neck,” you pushed the bruise, and she squatted your hand away. She was your ride-or-die. So you weren’t jealous.

“What is your schedule like today?” You sighed, looking at your nails on your left hand.

“Leading a training with May, a meeting with Phil, and I think Clint wants to go over some new trick arrows,” you rattled off. It was a typical busy day for you. Maria nodded.

“Do you want to go get lunch? We could go to that Mexican place you like.” That sounded nice, and you liked the burritos and mock tails they had. You sighed.

“How about a ring check? Nat asked if I could get lunch with her today,” Maria liked to joke that you made her soft. She rarely held up the mask to hide her emotions around you. There was no need. Now you saw the mask slowly creep up to hide her true feelings.

“Yeah, of course, she forced a smile. “Now get out of here before I write you up,” she teased. Rolling your eyes, you jumped off her desk.

“See you later, Ria.”

“Stay safe out there, Willow.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname but her office to start your day.

“You love her,” Natasha said as you took a bite of your sandwich. You choked on it, and the Black Widow smirked at your misfortune. You rubbed your chest to help the food pass and took a sip of water.

“I have no idea what the hell you are talking about,” she took a fry from your plate and popped it in her mouth.

“Please, Cherry, you’ve been in love with Maria since I’ve known you, and according to Phil, it’s been since the academy,” you gasped.

“Why is this office gossip?” You asked.

“We have to talk about something,” she shrugged. SHIELD agents were moths to a flame when it came to gossip. “Don’t worry, we won’t discuss it with Maria.” That was not reassuring.

“Look, Maria and I are friends. We have been forever; the way I feel is black and white.” You were curious to know if Natasha believed you. Hell, you barely believed yourself. It wasn’t like you stayed up at night overthinking the possibility of you and Maria has a couple. Nah, that would be dumb.

“Are you sure?” Yeah, it was fine. It was cool. It wasn’t like every time she talked about having sex with some random hookup at a bar, it made your stomach burn with jealousy because you wanted her body all to yourself. You wanted her more than anyone else. It’s not like you were in love with her.

“Shit,” you mumbled, slumping back into her hair. Natasha smiled, sipping on her chocolate milkshake.

“Glad you admitted it,” you hadn’t admitted anything. What was she talking about? “So, are you going to tell her?”

“No!” You shrieked, and you drew the attention of the other patrons. You felt your body warm up due to the extra eyes. Natasha chuckled. “God, no. I can’t. It will ruin everything. Besides, I doubt she feels the same.”

“She does.” The Black Widow glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Shit, we have to get back.” It was supposed to be a quick lunch because Fury called for an emergency meeting. You nodded, throwing your half-eaten food in the bag to take with you. “You know,” Natasha held open the door for you as you walked onto the busy DC sidewalks. “You should tell her. You both could be happy.” She said it as if it was easy and not scary. It’s not like you were losing your mind thinking about her in your bed. It started slow, but like dominoes, you started free-falling with no control. You were doing a shit job at hiding it if your friends knew the truth. It’s not like you were in love with her.

“I’m going on this mission,” you said, a little surprised.

“Yes,” Fury said, his arms behind his back and one good eye trained on you. “Your skill set is what this mission needs. Is that a problem?”

“No sir,” you said without hesitation. You kept up to date on your physical and firearm certification, and you met with SHIELD’s psychologist. You were always mission-ready when the time called for it, but it never did. You glanced at Maria, who was oddly quiet. Her face was in a permanent frown. But you couldn’t worry about her now; you had a mission to lead.

Maria found you in the locker room, tackle suit around your waist, and you were holding your dad’s dog tags in your hand. It was your good luck charm. “Want me to put it on you?” She asked. You nodded, handing her the necklace. Carefully, she placed the chain around your neck and locked it. The cold metal caused goosebumps to cover your shin. “I don’t like you going on this mission without me.” She admitted and sat down next to you on the bench. You chuckled.

“You’ll be watching my back,” you looked over your shoulder. “No, you’ll know how I feel every time you run off into danger.” You tried to make light of the situation, but there was a frown on your face. “Here,” you removed the necklace and placed it around her.

“What are you doing?” She asked. “You never go anywhere without it.”

“I don’t need it,” you said. “I got you watching my back. That’s all the luck I need.” Maria was quiet. It was unsettling for her to be quiet. “Ria, we got this. I get this. I’ve learned from the best, so I’ll be the best.” She laughed, and you were glad you could pull a sound out of her.

“Just-”

“Clover,” May walked in and cut Maria off. “We are all set, just waiting for you.” You told me you’d be there in 5 and turned your attention back to Maria.

“Just stay safe out there, Willow.” You wondered what she was going to say if she wasn’t interrupted.

“I’ll see you later, Ria,” you smiled. “Promise.”

You learned to listen to your gut instinct. It was your most valued tool as an agent. Even when you ran point back at headquarters, you listened to it when your stomach tightened with anxiety as you sat in the wooded area that surrounded the factory. This factory was responsible for releasing toxins into the air. Usually, this type of case wouldn’t gather attention from SHIELD, but the damage they were doing to the environment was affecting the locals: memory loss, muscle spasms, and strange hallucinations. The problem was that it was impossible to locate the idiots responsible for the mess. You could feel the environment dying in this area. May place a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay? She asked. You nodded, unable to open your mouth. You let out a few shaky breaths, trying to loosen the anxiety knot in your stomach, and tapped on the com in your ear.

“How are we looking?” You asked.

“They are about to make the guard change,” hearing Maria’s voice helped calm you down. “Are you doing okay, Willow? Your heart monitor is spiking.” You rolled your eyes and bit back a huff of annoyance. It was Phil’s idea to add pulse and heart detectors into the suit.

“Yeah, they’ve caused a lot of damage to this area. It’s making me all jittery,” you admitted.

“We’ll stop them,” this time it was Natasha’s voice through the coms. The Black Widow was recovering from a shoulder injury that left her benched until it was healed. You lead the team with Clint, May, and a handful of qualified agents.

“Shift change is in 3,” you put on your gas mask. “2 and 1. Stay safe, agents.” That feeling remained in the pit of your stomach. Anxiety, dread. You needed to figure out why. You moved through the building with ease and worked towards the control room. It was your, May’s, and two other agents’ job to turn off the factory while Clint protected the outside in case the alarm was tripped.

“We made it to the control room,” May said.

“Perfect, insert the flash drive. It should take 5 minutes to shut down the factory and copy the information they have on it.” Maria explained. May pushed the rolling chair out of the way.

“Go stand guard,” you ordered the other two agents. They obeyed and went into the hallway. The mission was almost over, so why were you so anxious? When May inserted the flash drive, an alarm went off, and metal walls trapped May and you inside the room.

“Houston,” your friend said. “We have a problem.” The room began to shake as a trap door opened, and a bomb rose from the floor. The red numbers clicked down from 10 minutes.

“Houston,” you repeated, and you took off the gas mask. “We have a bigger problem.”

“Turn on your cameras,” you turned on your body camera and heard the sharp intake of Maria’s breath.

“Guys, we have multiple heat signatures heading towards the factory,” Phil said. You walked over to the bomb, staring at the mysterious liquid.

“Barton, pull back. Gather all agents to the secondary position,” you pulled your hand back, clutching your hand against your chest—a fertilizer bomb.

“Willow, what is it?” Maria asked. You glanced at May; you knew she saw the panic in your eyes.

“It’s a fertilizer bomb,” you admitted. “Big enough to take out the factory and the surrounding bomb.”

“Fucking hell,” you heard Natasha mumble.

“May-”

“Already on it,” she cut off Maria as she rapidly typed at the control panel, trying to disarm the bomb.

“All agents have made it to the secondary location. Just need you two.” Yeah, that was going to be a problem. The sound of your team frantically discussing how to disarm the bomb became white noise. You walked the room length, gliding your hand over the metal wall. To your surprise, you felt pieces of earth within the metal sheets. Of course! All you had to do was focus on the impurities within the metal. You let out a shaky breath and concentrated. The metal moved underneath your palm.

“I have an idea,” you said suddenly.

“Am I going to like this idea?” Maria questioned. Probably not. You took your normal stance, feet shoulder length apart and knees bent slightly. You put your hands together, and then your palms faced the metal walls. Slowly, you began miming as if trying to rip something apart. At first, nothing happened. Beads of sweat trickled down your neck. Finally, the metal started to crumble and pull apart. A small doorway appeared. You fell to one knee, chest heaving. May ran to your side.

“That was wild,” she said. “I don’t know you could do that.” You chuckled as she helped you to your feet.

“Neither did I.”

“Nice work. No, get out of there,” Maria said. You quickly turned off your body camera and your and May’s com.

“You’re staying, aren’t you?” She asked.

“I think I can contain the blast.”

“You think?” It wasn’t an exact science, and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to contain it.

“Go,” you told her. You had to try. If not, so many people would die, including your team. Your friend hesitated but took off towards the exit. You faced the bomb and turned on your com again. There were four and a half minutes left.

“Why aren’t you leaving with May?” Maria questioned. You took a shaky breath and retook your stance. “Willow, it’s just me and you. What are you doing?”

“I gotta try, Ria,” your voice strained with exhaustion, arms shook at each metal wall you bent around the bomb. “If I don’t, hundreds if not thousands of people are gonna die.” You said. It was your responsibility to get your team home and protect the innocents in the area. Maria whispered your name. It was so rare that someone said your real name it took you by surprise. The bomb was fully wrapped in metal, but you were exhausted already. “You got my lucky charm, right?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I got it.”

“Good, good,” you mumbled, digging your feet into the metal floor. “I’ll see you later, Ria. I promised, didn’t I?” There was so much more you wanted to say. A three-word sentence danced on your lips, but you held it back. It wasn’t fair to her to say it now. Each nerve in your body was vibrating. Every breath you took burned. You sent a silent prayer to your father as the explosion rocked your body. You held the metal to contain it. A scream left your lips as it became too much, and your world went black.

Maria knew she had this aura that surrounded her. An aura that screamed authority. It told newer agents not to fuck with her. She knew she was good at what she did and wanted everyone to know that. As she walked to the med bay with Natasha close by, she was murderous. Rationally, she knew it was no one’s fault. It was par for the course when it came to this line of work, but she needed someone to blame and push guilt onto someone. May was resting in a chair with an ice pack on her head. She looked up when she heard the approaching footsteps. “She’s still in surgery,” she mumbled, and Natasha sat beside her. “Doctors are worried about the amount of blood she lost and the toxins that entered her lungs.” A heat of anger washed over Maria, but she tried to push it down.

“May, go shower and eat,” Maria ordered. Her voice strained. She saw the protest form in the agent’s eyes. “That’s an order.” You risked your life to save her and the rest of your team. It would do no one good if May stopped taking care of herself. “That’s an order.” May sighed.

“Yes, Hill.” She stood up and left. Maria took a seat in her spot, elbows resting on her knees.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha asked. Maria refused to look away from the wall she was staring at.

“I need her to be okay,” Maria admitted.

“Is this why you wrote her out of every mission?” The Black Widow questioned. Maria slowly leaned back and looked at the redhead. “Come on, Hill, it was obvious. With her on the field, missions would be over in half the time, but you didn’t want to risk her getting hurt.” Maria remained silent. “Now, why would you do that?” Her eyes locked onto Natasha’s green ones; there was no judgment like she had expected to see. “We do crazy things for the people we love.”

“I-” Maria let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know, Nat.” She whispered. “I just need her to be okay.”

“She will be,” the Black Widow smiled. “She’s strong.” Of course, Maria knew you were strong. She’s seen you at your lowest point when your father passed away, but you pulled yourself out of it. Your screams right before you collapsed were repeating inside her head. It was like a bad song stuck in there. The only thing that gave her hope was the steady beat of your heart monitors within your suit. You were alive, barely but alive.

“Deputy Director Hill,” her name said, but the approaching doctor caused her to stand up.

“How she is?” She asked.

“Stable,” the doctor said. “The next 24 hours are critical. I must admit she has a few guardian angels looking out for her. There was a major piece of metal in her stomach and left thigh. She also had small pieces in her arm. We think she hit her head due to a cut on the back of her head.”

“May said you were worried about her lungs,” Natasha said. The doctor nodded.

“She inhaled a great deal of the fertilizer before she was found, so we are worried about the lasting effects.” She explained.

“Can-can I see her?” Maria asked.

“Of course, we’ve placed her in a medically induced coma to allow her body to heal.” She faintly heard Natasha say she would inform Clint and the others of your condition. Maria wasn’t sure if the doctor was talking about your prognosis, but soon she was alone.

The only noise in the room was the steady sound of the machines connected to you. It seemed unreal that you were hurt. For the longest time, you seemed untouchable. Now, you were bedridden and too pale for Maria’s liking. She took your father’s dog tags off her neck and opened your hand to put the chain in it. “Lucky charm is back where it belongs.” She formed your hands into a tight fist and placed it on your heart. “Come back to me,” she whispered, kissing your forehead. “Please.”

There was a heaviness that surrounded you. It started at your chest and then moved to your limbs. The pressure was suffocating. Catastrophic. Slowly, you opened your eyes to the bright light of med bay. You felt metal in your hand and opened your palm to see the dog tags you gave Maria. “You’re awake,” you turned to see Natasha. A deck of cards in your hands and glanced down at your chest. You interrupted a game of war.

“Why are you using me as a table?” You deadpanned. Natasha shrugged.

“Had to kill time as we waited for your dumbass to wake up,” you rolled your eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a semi-truck,” you groaned and sat up slowly. The door opened to the bathroom, and Clint walked out.

“Shit,” you said. “You’re alive.” You scuffed, rubbing the bandages on your chest.

“I’m glad you had so much confidence in me, bird man,” Clint took a seat across from Natasha. “The team is okay, right? They all made it out.”

“Yeah, you saved their lives,” Natasha said. “Maria is pissed at you.” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll deal with her later.” You closed your eyes. Now that you were a little more awake, you could take a better inventory of your body. Every small breath you took caused your chest to burn; it felt like a fire was starting. You sighed, wincing slightly, and turned to look at Natasha. “How bad?” The Black Widow sighed.

“There is potential damage to your lungs due to the fertilizer, and you had a metal that they had to remove from your stomach and thigh.” Cool, you thought, real cool.

“Just think,” Clint started. “At least you are off breakfast duty for a while.” You laughed at his poor attempt to lighten the mood but hissed. “Shit, sorry. No laughing. Got it.” You waved him off that you were okay.

“I’ll go get the doctor. Don’t move.” Natasha said, standing up. You scuffed. Yeah, you would make a grand escape with a hole in your stomach.

“You had everyone worried,” Clint said once Natasha was gone. You remained quiet, lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t your intention to scare everyone. It was your job to protect your team and bring them home. So, you completed that part of the mission. It so happened you were hurt in the process.

It was night when you woke up again, and Maria was in Natasha’s seat. Her eyes were closed, but you knew she wasn’t asleep. Even in the dim light of the room, she looked exhausted. Bags were under her eyes, and her face looked pale. Natasha told you that you were in a medically induced coma for five days. Maria barely slept, had to be forced to eat, and left her office. “I know you aren’t asleep, Ria,” you whispered. Her eyes shot open. “You look like shit.”

“Says the girl with the hole in her stomach.” You smiled.

“They stitched it up all good. Besides, I had my lucky charm,” you picked up the dog tag around your neck. To your surprise, Maria took your hand in hers. Your body felt warm at the simple act. It wasn’t like you hadn’t held her hand before this moment felt more intimate. “Ria,” you whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I thought I lost you,” she admitted. “God, Willow, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you said. “I needed to save the team.” She shook her head.

“It was the right call to make, but,” Maria sighed, and you felt her take her hand away, but you held her tight, not wanting to let her go. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you promised.

With the surgery and injuries, your movement was limited. The most straightforward actions were impossible for you to do without pain shooting through your chest. It was deemed you would move in with someone until you fully recovered. Natasha was the first to offer but was quickly overruled by Maria. So you moved in with the Deputy Director, and it was strange. You needed help washing your hair, changing, and undressing yourself. You couldn’t understand the look in Maria’s eyes for every action you required assistance with. It wasn’t the first time you shared a living space with Maria, but now you walked on eggshells around each other. A part of you wanted to go back before the mission before everything felt complicated between you and your best friend.

The physical limitations weren’t the worst part of your recovery. It was the mental scars. Nightmares plagued your mind almost every night of that mission. It would change constantly. Sometimes, your team would die, or you would fail to save Maria. It was exhausting, waking up in a pool of sweat, your heart racing, and your lungs unable to get air into them. You wanted all to stop.

Maria was sitting at her dining room table, a bottle of whiskey opened, and she needed to work on a few case files. Her mind was a million miles away and not on her duties as Deputy Director. It wasn’t entirely her fault; a lot had happened over the past two weeks. Her best friend was almost killed; Natasha forced her to admit she was in love with said best friend, and she had to watch you piece yourself back together. It was exhausting, but she knew you would do it for her. This was how it had always been. You and Maria. Agent Hill and Gaia. A package duo that never crossed the line as friends. So Maria filled the void that was missing with one-night stands and drunken sex that meant nothing to her. All she wanted, needed, and craved was you. She could not risk the friendship; it was the most important thing in her life.

Small whimpers from your room pulled her out of her thoughts. Standing quickly, she made her way to the guest room. She carefully opened the door. You lay on the bed, mumbling something Maria couldn’t quite understand. On socked feet, she walked over to the bed and sat at the foot. “No,” you mumbled. “Take me. Not her. Please.” Maria’s heart broke.

“Sweetheart,” Maria whispered. “Wake up. Come on.”

“Maria,” you mumbled, thrashing slightly. “Maria, please, I’m sorry.”

“It’s just a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up.” You woke with a start, chest heaving and eyes frantically looking around.

“Ria,” you forced out. There was a thin layer of sweat on your body.

“It’s okay—you’re safe. I’m safe. Breath,” she gently touched the back of your neck and brought your forehead against hers. Your eyes closed as you took a few deep breaths in and out. Finally, you pulled away, and Maria hated to admit she missed you being close. You slumped back on the bed, arm across your face.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. She was curious to know if you heard her. With your other hand, you grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“I’m scared,” you said. Your voice shook at every spoken word. “I feel broken and weak and-” You aggressively rubbed your eyes as tears filled them.

“You are not broken,” Maria said. “You are healing. In time, you will return to your old self that I-” Maria cut herself off. You removed your hand from your face and slowly sat up.

“You what?” You asked, crossed your legs, and tried to cover the grimace of pain that crossed your face, but you moved closer to her. “Come on, Ria, tell me,” she was looking at every decoration in the room so she wouldn’t have to look at you. Finally, you used your index finger to tilt her chin to look back at you. “Finish your sentence,” you wore a smile on your face. It was a smile that Maria learned to look for in a crowd, in a meeting, or on a video call while on a mission. Your smile filled her with a sense of peace. It warmed her body and made her feel at home.

“That I fell in love with,” Maria softly spoke as she finished her sentence. You made a surprise sound that originated in the back of your throat, but you recovered quickly.

“You love me, Maria Hill?” the agent huffed a laugh, shaking her head.

“Shut up,” she mumbled. “If you are going to make fun of me, get it over with.”

“I’d never make fun of you, not about this, at least.” You added with a smirk because you have made fun of her about other things. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, inching closer until Maria felt your breath mingling with hers.

“Please,” you connected your lips with hers. Maria hated how often she thought about this moment. She would go to her grave before admitting out loud how many times she had to bite her lip during sex to stop herself from moaning your name. Fair too soon for her liking, you pulled away and rested your head on her shoulder.

“Why have we waited so long to do that?” Maria chuckled. “Will you stay?”

“Always,” the open bottle of whiskey and mission reports could wait another day.

When you woke up the following day, you are disappointed to find an empty bed. Maria’s side was cold, but you heard a commotion in the kitchen. Carefully, you stood up. The mornings were always rough due to being in the same position for so long. You slowly made your way out of the room and into the kitchen. Maria was at the stove, her back to you, and you walked over to her. Your arms wrapped around her waist, and you buried her head in her shoulder. Her body tensed up but soon relaxed in your arms. “Morning,” you mumbled.

“Morning. Breakfast is almost done. Why don’t you go sit down?” You shook your head.

“Your arm,” you said, kissing the skin you could reach. You were happy with the goosebumps that formed on her skin. Her body shook with laughter.

“Go sit. I’ll get your medicine, too.” You pouted, walked over to the couch, and pulled a blanket over your lap. It wasn’t long before Maria joined on the sofa with two plates of food.

“I can help you know,” she said with a smile. She brought back two mugs of coffee and water with your medication. You kissed her cheek as your thanks and took the three white pills with water.

“I should probably say this,” you bite into the eggs. “I love you too,” she smirked.

“I would hope so, or this entire thing would be incredibly awkward,” she teased. You rolled your eyes and pumped your shoulder against hers.

“You are a dork,” you smiled.

“I’m your dork,” that was also true. Oh, how you liked that sound.

“Mine,” you mumbled, kissing her. “And I’m yours.”

#maria hill x reader #maria hill x you #maria hill

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queensunshinee · 7 months ago

Text

Time Of Our Lives || Part 23

warnings: SMUT! 18+!, oral sex, handjob.

Part 23

"Have I already thanked you for agreeing to come with me?" Art asked after he entered the hotel where Liana was staying. His parents had also arrived. "You know I wouldn't miss you at the Olympics, right? And in London, no less!" She rolled her eyes because he hadn't stopped saying 'thank you' since the moment he bought the stupid ticket (which she wanted to pay for herself, but he didn't exactly ask her). "I love London. It's not a punishment or anything," she smiled genuinely.

Art smiled back, but he had known for some time that she loved him just as much as she loved London, and if he wanted to be arrogant, maybe even more than she loved London. And God knows how much he loves Liana. So why can't he talk to her about it? They talk about everything except that. They act like people who have been in a relationship for a decade. People whose dilemmas are about kids and home design. Why can't those be their real dilemmas? Has Art sentenced himself to a life beside Liana that will never be full and complete? Will he always have to settle for almost because he didn't insist on how ridiculous their agreement was?

"Can't wait to see all the places you love. All the buildings you told me about." His smirk widened into a real smile when he saw her face. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and her cheeks reddened. She was truly the most beautiful person he knew. He can't believe he grew up beside her all his life and didn't realize how beautiful she was for half of it. "Maybe I shouldn't introduce you to Melissa, so you won't fall in love with her by mistake," she said in response, and he raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes. I'm definitely capable of falling in love with your best friend," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as she swallowed. They both realized how loaded his statement was only after he said it. After all, Liana had been in love with his best friend. She was capable of that. It's not the same thing. He knows it's not the same thing. And yet. It's not far-fetched in their reality.

"Are you excited?" she abruptly changed the subject. "What's the worst that can happen? I'll lose in the first rounds with you and my parents in the audience, all of America watching me, and I'll become a meme. Just another Sunday," he lay down on the bed beside her, burying his head in her chest, letting her fingers run through his curls. "Or you'll win, and then win again and again," she said in response, and he chuckled. "What are the chances of that happening, Lia?" he sighed, afraid of disappointing so many people. "High. But in any case, you know I don't care, right?" she asked, moving his head a bit, making him look at her with wide eyes, absorbing every word she had to say. "I don't care as long as I know you're enjoying yourself and doing what you love to do. That's like the only reason I'm willing to watch you play tennis. Because I know you love it and it excites you. In any other scenario, fuck tennis," she shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing and moved again, allowing him to rest his head back on her soft chest. He could fall asleep like this. He had fallen asleep like this before.

"So if I quit tomorrow, you wouldn't care?" he asked without looking at her. Because he didn't plan to quit. He was far from it. He loved playing tennis. He loved seeing Liana in the audience. He loved winning. "I'd throw you a party," she replied, making both of them chuckle.

"I brought you something," she murmured, gently moving him again so she could get up. "It's not too much, so don't get too excited," she added as she rummaged through her suitcase and pulled out a box wrapped with a ribbon. "Lia, you shouldn't have." His hand found its way to his neck for a moment, unable to think clearly. His heart was beating irrationally. The fact that she thought of him enough to give him something for the tournament, even though she was already flying with him, gave him chills. "Don't be stupid, open it," she smiled. And for once, Art listened to what she told him to do instead of giving her instructions. "What is all this?" he muttered, not knowing what to focus on.

"Okay, the headphones are supposed to be really good. They're for listening to your meditations if you're with someone in the room, or the songs you like to listen to before games. The book is just because I know you might get bored in the Olympic Village between games or training or whatever, so you have something to pass the time. And there's this really silly picture my mom gave me two months ago. Art, have you seen it?" She talked so fast, and Art felt he could cry. "It's from that time you got a skateboard for your birthday," he stated, examining the framed picture. Liana and he were seven. He was holding his first racket in one hand and hugging Liana with the other. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were swollen. Liana, on her part, had her arms crossed, standing next to a small skateboard. She looked displeased.

"Yeah, and you cried and acted like a little bitch even though you got a racket for your birthday," she laughed heartily, and Art couldn't take his eyes off the picture in front of him. "I wanted to have what you had," he said honestly, remembering that feeling exactly. As a child, he couldn't let go of her at every shared moment. He followed her like he was her tail. Probably even then, he would have wagged if she asked him to. She never asked. "It's for you to put in your room because two and a half weeks is a long time, so you feel a bit at home. After that, I might want it back. It's too cute," Liana continued, partially ignoring what he said.

"Is that mine?" he suddenly asked, pulling out a simple white cap from the box. "Yes. Okay, it's weird, I know. But you had that period where you wore a backwards cap and really looked like a smug, annoying dickhead—" "Oh yes, I remember. You didn't stop telling me how much you hated all my caps," he rolled his eyes.

"Well...I lied," she said without blinking, and he looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "You looked really good with those silly caps. It was awful," she rolled her eyes. "And then there was one time I was at your house one summer, and you were in the pool, so I just took that cap. I thought maybe it would make you stop wearing them, but you just wore another one the next day. An insufferable person," she spoke quickly, as if the speed would make what she said less significant.

"When was that?" For every word she said quickly, he spoke his slowly, swimming in this moment. "The summer of age 16, like 10 years ago, I think?" she tried to remember. "Lia, did you have a crush on me when you were 16?" The familiar smirk spread across his face. "Oh, fuck off," she rolled her eyes, and he put the box on the bed beside him, stood up, and approached her. Wrapping her in a hug with his big hands.

"Thank you," he said quietly, feeling himself melt into her. "You know I've got your back, right? With or without tennis. You and I will be okay," she said, looking at him again. Art kissed her in response, unable to find any words other than 'I love you' (which he wasn’t allowed to say) to sum up the discussion.

After three weeks at the London Olympics, Art Donaldson won a silver medal in the doubles tournament and a gold medal in the singles, all while wearing a backwards white cap in every match. The kiss he gave Liana after his victory was captured everywhere. It was called 'iconic.' Nobody knew who Liana was, but she was the first person to receive his attention, and his parents or Tashi, who were sitting there, weren't surprised at all.

They said goodbye to his parents and decided to stay another week in London. This way, Art could meet some of Liana's friends and see places she loved. Besides, he could use a vacation. Tashi tried to resist, unsuccessfully. It was also Liana's birthday, and Art wanted to take her to a nice restaurant.

They sat next to each other at a bar in London, with some of Liana's school friends sitting across from them. Art connected with them instantly. In a flash. Overall, seeing Liana so immersed in her element, so social, was like exploring her anew. Discovering the person she had been all these years without him.

"Does anyone want something to drink?" he asked, and after everyone told him what they wanted and someone else went with him, Liana stayed with Melissa, who looked at her as if she had fallen from the moon. "You're so in love with him it's embarrassing. I don't know what this act is for," Melissa said the second everyone walked away. "There's no act, we're fine. He's my best friend," Liana shrugged and finished her drink. "Girl, I'm your best friend. The blond guy who looks at you like you hung the moon and sleeps with you most nights of the week, he's your boyfriend." Melissa almost laughed at the absurdity. There wasn't a single person around the table who even asked who Art was to Liana. It was obvious to everyone that he was her boyfriend. His hand was on her in a half-hug, so nonchalant, as if he was born in that exact position. As if he belonged right beside her.

"He doesn't look at me like-" Liana rolled her eyes. "What are you afraid of?" Melissa interrupted, not letting her continue deceiving herself. There isn't a person in the world (literally the whole world since their kissing photos were published) who thinks Liana is just Art's best friend. "I guess, I don't want to get hurt again," Liana murmured, looking at Melissa with a pitiable expression. "Oh, babes, sweetie, everyone gets hurt all the time. Who the fuck has the energy to be afraid of that?" She hugged her, a crushing hug. "I need to visit you more. You're losing it over there in America," she concluded as everyone returned to the table.

Art's hand returned to the same spot, only this time Liana's head rested on his shoulder, as if she was born right there as well.

Two days later, Art insisted they go to the restaurant he had reserved. "Art, we're going to celebrate at your parents' house in two weeks anyway. You're really overdoing it," she said when he just told her about his plans. "Hey, we never celebrate your birthday on the actual date. It feels unfair. Just let me spoil you for a bit," he looked at her with a gaze she found hard to refuse.

So, Liana found herself sitting next to him at a Michelin-starred restaurant, telling him occasionally that he was crazy for the amount of money he spent on this meal. Reminding him that there was no real reason for this extravagance. But every time Liana took a bite or sipped the wine, he saw her face change, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. He knew it wasn't a waste. He knew he had made the right decision, and he knew that tonight might take a turn very soon, so he decided to savor the good, certain moments as much as possible.

After they finished eating, Liana took him on a tourist bus tour, which made them both roll their eyes and laugh, feeling like kids again. They weren't bothered by the people asking to take pictures with Art. What did bother them was the rain that started to pour in August, causing them to catch a taxi to the hotel, drenched. "That was a really extreme ending to this evening," Liana said as they both laughed. "Thank you, Art, this was really over the top," she said, looking at him with a gaze that quickly changed from amused to grateful.

"You don't have to thank me for anything, Liana. Like, ever." He said, his gaze was piercing. Demanding. "Haven't you figured that out yet?" he mumbled and sighed. "Okay. No more thank yous. Do you want to shower with me?" she smiled, and his look filled with mischief as he moved towards her and unzipped her dress. They were under the warm water quickly, with Art gently moving her hair away from her face, and she closed her eyes. His hands were so rough from tennis, but his touch was soft.

"You're so beautiful, Lia. It's unbelievable that you're mine," he murmured, and she opened her eyes. He looked at her, too, and knew he had crossed some kind of line. Because they didn't say it out loud. They didn't say what everyone understood. They just acted like it, and Art was about to ruin it. Or change it. Or improve it. He was about to break it. "You're beautiful yourself," she replied, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him. He deepened the kiss immediately. And it wasn't hurried or sloppy; it was serious and mature and deep. They took their time, refusing to break apart until they ran out of air to share.

Art didn't know how he found himself on all fours before her again, but he loved looking up at her sometimes. When she looked back at him, and they both knew she had the power to destroy him, but she would never use it. And Art was beginning to believe he also had the power to destroy Liana, but he would never dream of using it. His mouth was on her pussy, and even as he explored her from within, he took his time, just as he had with her mouth earlier. And the sounds she made, which he was already used to but would never tire of, made him feel like he could come without her touching him at all. "Fuck, Artie, I'm close," and he loved when she called him that because it only happened when she was needy and coming and desperate and his, and he knew she was in that stupid state because of him, and she also knew he was the one making her feel so good, in such euphoria. And with that thought in his mind, he felt her come, half leaning on the wall and half on his shoulder as he held her shaking legs. "It's okay, baby, I've got you. Come for me. I'm here," he talked her through it, making her orgasm even more intense.

And after she recovered and managed to give him a handjob while they both giggled at her inability to function, they managed to shower and get dressed. "I have a present for you," he said suddenly, with his hand on his neck, knowing this was going to be a pivotal moment but staying calm. "Art, you're overdoing it. The meal was enou-" "Please, Liana, just let me give it to you," he interrupted her because he knew the arguments would come later anyway; right now, he needed her less combat ready.

"Okay," she mumbled, and he went to his suitcase, pulling out a small jewelry box. "Art, what is this?" Liana looked at it as if it were a contagious disease wrapped in a bow. "Relax, it's not a ring. But it might make you angry, and I want you not to be mad at me. Can you do that? Not be mad before you let me talk?" he said, playing with his fingers to steady himself as he spoke. "What's going on, Art?" her voice became more serious. Every note of amusement left it as he handed her the box and sat cross-legged on the bed in front of her.

She looked at the key inside and then at him with a raised eyebrow, feeling her heart pounding faster. "The house is ready," he said, not taking his eyes off her. "Actually, it's been ready for a few weeks. The designer finished completely." He continued, seeing that Liana didn't move for a second. Not even blink. "I'm moving there, and I want you to move in with me." His look was almost desperate. He was so afraid of her reaction, as if he knew she was about to shatter him. "Art, that's not what we agreed..." she said quietly, afraid to move. "Fuck it, Liana. We haven't been in what we agreed to for a long time. We haven't been friends with benefits from the minute we agreed on it. You know that." He closed his eyes and took a long breath. "You built that house. The interior design consists of your ideas too. You love that house, and Liana, I'm pretty sure you love me too, and if you don't say otherwise, then I just want you to agree to live with me. That will be the new agreement," he was desperate. His voice shook, and he didn't speak logically, but he tried to convey a point.

"That will be the new agreement?" she asked, biting her lip, and he could see she was giving in. "Yes. The new agreement will be that we're in love and live together in the house we built for ourselves." He moved closer to her, his voice steadier as he kissed her neck and heard her sigh. "I can't pay for that house, Art. It cost you an insane amount of money," she mumbled. "Liana, the money doesn't matter to me. I have more money. Just what I earned from the Olympics covers that house. I'm not broke in any way." He tried to dramatize that this was the last thing that mattered to him.

"Okay," she said after a few seconds of silence, surprising him. Making him move back a bit and look at her. "Okay?" he asked, confused. He honestly thought it would take him more time. That he would have to twist and convince her.

"Yes, I think we can be in love and live together in a beautiful house. It's something we can handle," she shrugged and started to smile. "So I can say I love you without fearing you'll run away from me?" he continued, not believing he didn't have to struggle. "You already stated that I love you, so I think it would be fair if you also say you love-" He didn't let her finish the sentence before he kissed her. "Happy birthday, Liana Levy. I love you," he smiled into her mouth.

'Happy birthday Amanda, I miss you' will probably be the first message Liana sees when she opens her phone in the morning, but that's a worry for another day. Today, she's celebrating the best birthday she's ever had, probably because she's finally celebrating it on the actual date.

Hey guyssss, how are we doing? Let me know what you think as always, it literally makes my day. Also, send me more requests for blurbs. I love them and I will do at least another one between this and the next chapter. Patrick will come back to us. I just needed Art and Liana to be more stable at this point. Hope you're still enjoying it <3

taglist (if anyone wants to join, just ask): @suzysface tqd4455 @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

#the time of our lives #challengers fic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #tashi duncan #art donaldson smut

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ino-takumas-baggy-sweater · 1 year ago

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A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna X Reader)

This is part of my Royal AU, the first I'm writing for it, there may be inconsistencies between each different fic set within the universe including but not limited to which damn clan does Sukuna belong to, but I'm sure it'll be fine :))

also i hope the family tree kinda makes sense, i can make a separate post showing the different clans and their family trees if needed

Warnings: mentions of an affair, brief mentions of abuse but nothing explicit

Word count: 3.1k

When the boy first showed up everything had been good, a new son had been born into the Itadori clan, the royal family was stronger than ever. This boy threatened to bring all of that down simply by existing. Jin Itadori was not known for his mercy, often ruthlessly leading swathes of knights into battles and leaving none alive, but this boy was no ordinary enemy. His own son, illegitimate, but still his flesh and blood. His wife said nothing when he brought the screaming baby into the nursery that was only meant for one, placing him beside Yuji in his large crib.

Kaori Itadori simply accepted what had been given to her and raised the boy as her own, despite the neglect and clear favoritism shown from Jin to his alleged twin sons. The two were almost identical despite the fact they had different mothers, which was how the lie was able to be carried so easily through their lives. Ryomen knew, he had always known, and he’d hated almost everyone for it. The only people he couldn’t truly even pretend to hate were his adopted brothers, and he let everyone know this vehemently, shirking his duties and often hiding away from elaborate dinner parties or balls he did not want to attend.

Yuji’s heart broke for his brother, and of the five Itadori boys, only the eldest Choso knew of the predicament underlying the twins. The youngest, Eso and Kechizu, were born one after the other, three years apart, with significant health complications and therefore rarely appeared in public. The elder three were fiercely protective, especially Ryomen who’d had a taste of his father’s neglect and despised that Jin had turned it on his youngest sons. None of the three wanted to burden their younger brothers, they’d been told that the pair might not live to become adults, so they had always made sure the boys were well fed and happy.

Ryomen suffered in silence. His teachers could not quell his anger, the best sorcerers warned of his growing cursed energy levels, but nothing was ever done. Nothing really could be done. By the time he turned nineteen he was undoubtedly the strongest of the Itadori boys, and his father was adamantly trying to wed him off to a different kingdom. Ryomen didn’t care, the faster he got out of Khoccadia the better in his opinion. He spent his days training in combat with the knights, including the captains of both the Shadow and Blood units, Megumi Fushiguro, and Takuma Ino.

Megumi Fushiguro interested him, the man was his age, his twin brother’s personal bodyguard, and he had the inherited cursed technique of the Zenin clan, the royal family of a neighbouring kingdom. His unit, aptly named the Shadows, were a small close knit group of Shikigami summoners, led by a wielder of the undisputed king of Shikigami techniques. This made him both an outsider and a refugee, having been forced to prove his loyalty a thousand times over, including regaining the trust of the royal family after his technique was revealed during an attack on the kingdom where he had to unleash his power to protect Yuji.

The other captain, Takuma Ino, wasn’t as interesting or close to him, but still a formidable ally and opponent, having first trained under the royal sorcerer Kento Nanami, before his technique proved to be more useful on a battlefield than overseeing curses. Ryomen often found himself sitting with the pair post-sparring, looking out over the training grounds within the castle walls, and asking himself where he would go if he decided to run. He knew he wouldn’t get far, his cursed energy was much too unique, Nanami would be able to find him with no trouble. His only way out would be this arranged marriage, and he had to be sure it was far far away from here.

This is what eventually lead to Jin Itadori hosting a ball and inviting many of the leaders of nearby nations to attend with their daughters, royal, political, and otherwise. Few invites were sent out past the neighbouring nations, but Ryomen had to be sure, so he had insisted under the cover of lies that his father’s orders had the invitations sent further. When the day of the ball arrived, Ryomen was reluctantly dolled up in a luxurious maroon suit, his hair styled with earrings and cufflinks to match. When he met up with Choso and Yuji, he saw they were dressed similarly to him, but Yuji’s suit is a deep pink and Choso’s a dark purple.

“Don’t we just look a treat,” Ryomen huffed, reaching up and adjusting Yuji’s collar slightly. “They were chosen by mother,” Choso looks away and Ryomen finds himself almost apologising. It wasn’t her fault, she was a victim of the system just as he was, but he shakes it off. “You okay?” Yuji mumbles, giving his brother the same outfit once over. The twins had always known what would make each other look the best, Ryomen let him fuss with his hair a little before swatting his hands away. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay, I can’t wait to get the hell out of here so I never have to see him again,” He growls. Choso checks his watch as they approach the upstairs entry to the ballroom, the laughter and chatter behind it dying down as someone announces their arrival.

“I hope you find someone,” Yuji squeezes his hand for a brief moment before Ryomen can pull away or protest, dropping his hand before the door swings open and the three of them are revealed to the eyes below. Choso in the centre with his brothers flanking, there are smiles of all kinds as they descend the stairs. Some genuine, some scheming, others that don’t quite reach the eyes of their owners.

Ryomen Itadori doesn’t get nervous, but in this moment he finds his eyes searching for Kaori Itadori. She returns his gaze from her place on the ballroom throne and nods once. This party is for him, it’s his ticket out of here, and it almost feels to him like she’s lending him her strength. The strength to do what she never could. When the three of them reach the bottom of the stairs, his brothers disperse into the crowd to find dance partners, and Ryomen finds himself alone surveying what he can see. The only clan tattoos he recognises around the edges are those belonging to the Zenin clan, the Gojo clan, the Kamo clan and that of the Creyarean district, which is a political power and not run by a royal or empirical clan.

There are a few tattoos he does not recognise, he assumes from further out on the continent, and one in particular draws his gaze. A kindly looking couple, king and queen, with matching filagree tattoos over their facial features, most prominent on their jawline, cheeks, across the nose and in the centre of their foreheads. No other family has tattoos that bold, the closest in comparison is the Kamo clan with a jagged X over the right eye, and he finds himself curious as to their origins. “Brother! I’d like you to meet someone,” Yuji’s voice suddenly cuts into his wandering thoughts and he scoffs, “Leave me alone Yuji,” He grunts, but his brother barges into his space, his mouth right next to his ear as he utters the words that could be Ryomen’s salvation.

“Her family comes from miles away, three kingdoms over!” Yuji hisses. His gaze flits to the girl who stands holding Yuji’s hand, looking like she’s just been dragged at a brisk Itadori walk across half the ballroom (Which she had been). His brother drops her hand as he steps back and presents her, “Allow me to introduce Y/n L/n, of the Iqorian Empire,” Unmarried, she does not bear her parents tattoos, but there are two thick black bands around both her wrists which could be a hint at early clan tattoos that don’t decorate the face.

She curtseys and he feels his demeanour soften slightly, taking her hand which still hovers unsure before her to press a light kiss to the back of it. He keeps his face painfully neutral as he studies her features, her e/c eyes traveling back up to meet his. “Lovely to meet you, Miss L/n, Ryomen Itadori,” He introduces himself politely, though he knows that she must already know who he is, given his brother has a tendency to babble. She uses her free hand to fix her h/c hair before giving him a polite smile, “Some party your parents cooked up, is the potential marriage for diplomatic purposes?” She asks. He clenches his jaw slightly, his gaze scanning the crowd as he instinctively pulls her slightly closer.

His father’s face is dark and sinister, his eyes locked on Ryomen but his mind elsewhere, “You could say that,” He replies, “But I would say it’s freedom,” Her eyes widen and he steels himself, she must be able to sense the years of neglect and abuse on him, he knows he reeks of it, but if she does she doesn’t mention it, “I see,” She murmurs, “Well, would you like to dance?” He looks at her like she’s grown an extra head for a moment, but Yuji punches his side and he blinks, “Yes yes, of course, that would be nice,” His words drift away and he becomes eternally grateful for the dancing lessons Kaori forced him to endure as he leads the girl out into the centre of the dance floor.

The night passes by quicker than he would have liked it to, despite stepping into the ballroom like a caged wolf with the taste of freedom on his tongue. He comes to learn from the girl his brother introduced to him that the royal couple he didn’t recognise, with the outlandish filagree tattoos, are her parents, and he is hooked from that moment on. You of course know there is something he is hiding, but his sudden interest in your clan tattoos brings a soft smile to your face as you look over to your parents. They seem to be overjoyed that you’ve caught the attention of the Itadori son up for grabs, but you know there’s more to it considering the fact that he should be the second in line, and yet is being married out of his family into another.

“I am certain we will be seeing one another again, Miss Y/n,” He murmurs as he presses one last kiss to the back of your hand, his fingers tracing one of the black lines on your wrist. You grab his arm before he can turn away, “Ryomen,” You murmur in response, “Sir, are you in trouble here?” He does not reply, his gaze is hard, but you feel a lack of response is enough for you to fill in the gaps.

He’s not welcome in his family, and you’re determined to get him out and then find out why, even if it means ruining any diplomatic relationship Iqoria could have with Khoccadia. You omit the fears you hold close to your chest when your parents demand to know how your night went, they were watching and already knew you were the only one Ryomen Itadori spent his night with. This is a golden opportunity, he is already well known throughout the continent as the strongest Itadori son, he would be a priceless addition to any family, and nobody else seems to be questioning the fact his father doesn’t seem to want him to stay.

A foolish decision, considering the fact his cursed energy swamped the entire ball from the moment he entered the room, just barely discernible from that of your parent’s royal sorcerer, Satoru Gojo, who came to meet with other royal sorcerers in attendance. You are reunited with Suguru Geto, your personal guard and the Captain of the Iqorian Guards, after conversing with your parents. He escorts you back to the room provided to you within the Itadori’s castle for the night, “I take it the night went well, your highness?” He asks as he follows you in.

You find yourself unable to respond, chewing on your thumbnail as you sit at the dresser, leaning your head on your free hand. Lost in thought you don’t hear him approach until his hand is on your shoulder, “What ails you my lady?” “He’s tormented,” You murmur, “Prince Ryomen, he’s trapped, and something is very wrong with this family,” His face reflected in the mirror is one of soft confusion, and you find you can’t hide anything from him. He’s trained you your whole life, and you trust him sometimes more than you trust your parents, he’s like a second brother to you, “I asked if he was in trouble, and I fear a lack of response or denial is enough to ascertain the danger, I must marry him if he is to survive with his humanity intact,”

Geto frowns and grips your shoulder slightly, “I will call for your maids, this stays between us,” He announces, “Sleep well your highness,” “Where are you going?” “To let your parents know I am in full support of this marriage, he’s incredibly strong after all,” His face is sly as a fox and you find yourself speechless, “He’ll be a great asset if we give him the chance,” Once he is gone you find comfort in the knowledge of his support, thus allowing you to slumber in peace.

When the morning arrives, you find yourself swept up in preparations for the wedding, which you find after questioning the closest maid is to be held that very day. His father must be desperate to get rid of him before he becomes a problem, and you’re more than willing to let Kaori Itadori and her maids along with yours fawn over you and dress you in the finest white dress you’ve ever seen. You’re understandably nervous, your parents dropped by only once that morning to tell you what you already knew about the conversation they shared with Ryomen’s parents, but they also said once the wedding was over you’d be leaving for home almost immediately.

This was, surprisingly, not the most shocking thing you’d heard all morning. It fell just behind the fact that it would be Geto and not your father who would be walking you down the aisle, a few of your closest maids acting as bridesmaids. This is to go along with a Khoccadian custom involving the parents of both spouses, while also incorporating the ‘giving away’ portion from Iqorian marriages. Ryomen’s mother wraps her arms around you quickly outside the throne room before she pushes a bouquet of red roses into your hands, tears in her eyes, “Take care of him,” She whispers, her eyes intense and so full of sadness you think you may cry too. You nod, words escaping you as you turn to the throne room, the music floating out at you different to the wedding music back home.

It dawns on you as the doors open to reveal you to the crowd that you don’t know Ryomen Itadori. You don’t know his favourite food, you don’t know his favourite hobbies, you don’t know what he likes in a partner, you don’t even know what his relationship with his brothers is like. It’s too late to wonder, as you clutch the bouquet in your hand and link your other arm with Geto who has just appeared at your side. His presence helps to calm your nerves, but you’re still antsy as you approach the front of the room where Ryomen waits for you, looking equally antsy but for a different reason.

You know he wants out, and you’re his ticket, you just have to get through the next hour of formalities. The crowd is never truly silent during your ceremony, there’s always a low hum of chatter, but it doesn’t disturb or deter the continuance of the ceremony. You can feel Jin Itadori’s eyes on you almost the entire time and you endeavour to ignore him as best you can, focusing on the feeling of Ryomen’s hands in yours. You take the time before and during vows to study his face, the way he scrunches his nose sometimes or crosses his eyes to make you smile. It works, and he squeezes your hands to add reassurance to the moment, until finally you’re pronounced as husband and wife, and without even a second thought or hesitation he pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours.

You’re breathless, your hands clutching his biceps, barely hanging onto the threads of your discipline before he pulls you into him for a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” He mutters against your ear, kissing the side of your head as the crowd cheers and his words are lost in the cacophony of sounds. You let your eyes speak a thousand words as you meet his gaze, smiling softly before finally speaking, “You’re safe now,” His shoulders relax as the two of you turn to walk back down the aisle. Once out of the throne room, his brothers are there to greet him, and Yuji hugs him tightly, “Brother…” He murmurs, “Don’t forget us, you understand?” He grips the back of Ryomen’s head and presses his forehead to his twins, “Promise me?”

Ryomen blinks sadly, “I’ll come back for you,” He whispers. The two younger boys crowd between the twins and Ryomen holds them, the taller one seems quite physically weak, and the shorter one has not opened his eyes, but he holds them close. “How does Ryomen L/n sound?” He asks softly, “Fitting?” Yuji smiles, “For you? It’s perfect,” Just before the two of you can be whisked away by your maids, he grabs his elder brother’s hand, “Choso,” He forces the man to look him in the eyes, “Look after them, don’t let them end up like him, or me for that matter,” He growls, “Swear on your life,”

Choso nods, “I swear on my life,” Ryomen nods one final time, “I hope we’re all better people when we see each other again,” He says, words meant only for his brothers that you catch while ushering your maids away from the moment. His hand on your back is the only warning you get before he’s nudging you along the tidal wave of people who head to the main entrance.

A grand exit, the staircase long, carriages await at the bottom, and Ryomen’s freedom. A price paid a thousand times over, a dream finally allowed to come true, and a man desperately clinging to the bare threads of his humanity. The world gives him a lifeline in the form of a girl second in line to her kingdom’s throne, and he finds he remembers why he endured staying alive all those years. His real family, his only family, his brothers - and maybe even revenge.

twins sukuna/itadori lives rent free in my head because of this app so here's my royal spin on it :) I hope you enjoyed

part 2 here!

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #yuji itadori #choso kamo #satoru gojo #megumi fushiguro #kento nanami #suguru geto #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x reader

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uzuitengensfourthwife · 8 months ago

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Unbearable - Kuroo x (fem) Reader

Summary: Kuroo was UNBEARABLE. No matter the occasion, he always annoyed you and made sure your blood was boiling.

Wordcount: 2219

Warning: Swearwords, otherwise none, besides my bad writing! So enjoy!

Authors note: Soo.. it was definitely time for me to do something with Kuroo as well! I feel like some parts were terribly rushed, however I hope you enjoy it anyways!

A year ago, when you started with Uni, you and your friends found yourselves within a friend group of 6 people. Quite unfortunately tho, Tetsuro Kuroo was part of your friend group as well. The day you've met up until now, he's been nothing but an annoying brat. He did everything in his power to make your blood boil the second he sees you. Be it in a lecture or when you guys hung out with your other friends. Whenever he was close to you, nothing could stop him from annoying the shit out of you.

And this has pretty much held on for the whole year you've known each other. The others seemed to enjoy themselves whenever you two were in the same room, but every remark that came out of his mouth brought you one step closer to punching him in the face.

And today, where you all gathered to get ready for a party together, he made sure to rile you up real good once more.

"Give it back you fucker." you hissed, trying to grab your lipstick from his hand. He ,however, decided to hold the lipstick above his head, grinning down on you. "Too small to get it?" He stuck out his tongue, waving your lipstick around in front of your face. This time, you were fast enough to grab it and to kick his knee, earning yourself quite the painful sigh from Kuroo. You grinned at him, acknowledging your win. "That fucking hurt!" - "Good." You replied, walking past him to finish your make up in front of a mirror.

"You two finished trying to kill each other? We kinda got somewhere to be." A friend of yours asked the both of you, chuckling. "Let's go before they start fighting again." Another friend exclaimed loudly, already opening the door to indicate that you should finally leave to get there on time. And so you did.

Your friends obviously tried to keep you and Kuroo apart, so you wouldn't delay your arrival by an unknowing amount of time. Fortunately for your friends, it worked and you appeared on time for the party.

The party was already quite lively, which made you really stoked. And it wasn't quite a surprise when you've found yourself an occupation shortly after your arrival at the party. It was a guy from your lecture, who actually looked pretty cute. So you definitely didn't mind when he came over to talk to you.

While you were talking to this nice guy from your lecture, you felt someone staring at you from the kitchen, where drinks were made. Yet, you still tried not to pay the staring gal any attention.

"Not to be rude but... du you know him?" - "Huh..?" You looked back, just to be greeted by Kuroo, who seemed to be staring holes in to your back. However, once he realized you were looking at him as well, he made his way towards the two of you. "Hey, think your shirt's dirty." Kuroo said, pointing at the guys shirt, placing himself right behind you. "Huh.. what do you me-" but before the guy was able to talk, Kuroo poured his drink over the guys shirt, which led to a bright red stain on the guys shirt. "Right there." - "What the hell!?" the guy yelled, looking up to Kuroo, who had a grin plastered on his face. The guy, who no longer seemed interested in you, turned around and left, while cursing out loud about Kuroo. He, however, seemed to have found quite the joy from this situation.

"What the hell was that about?" You asked him in a demanding tone. "What? His shirt was dirty." Kuroo shrugged, while looking at you with an unserious expression. You groaned, quite agitated from the little stunt he pulled. Whatever, you thought. "You should be more careful you know?" - "What do you mean?" Without even answering you, he pointed towards your drink. You looked at your drink, while realizing that the guy from before had dropped some pills into your drink, probably while you were looking at Kuroo. "Fuck..." you whispered quietly.

"You're welcome." He grinned, grabbing the drink from your hand, just to pour it in a trash can. "Yeah thanks I guess... you're free to go now." You said, rolling your eyes. "Sure you're able to fend on your own?" - "Yes Kuroo." And with that, you left him standing, there, trying to find yourself another occupation within the party.

You talked to some friends, then to some strangers, but nothing seemed to really interest you.

So, after some time walking around the party, you got quite bored of what was inside. Which is why you decided to go outside to get some fresh air. You immediately walked towards a bench that was close to the house, sitting down all by yourself before looking up to the sky. While observing the stars, your thoughts went back to Kuroo, who before, saved your ass from quite a horrible fate you had almost encountered. You sighed out loud, thanking god that Kuroo was there, before anything bad could happen. Now that you were outside, you realized how much more relaxing it was outside than in there, just quiet and peace.

You wanted to get up again, before you suddenly heard two guys talking, not far behind from you. You tensed up, yet, you decided to just be quiet and try not to listen to their conversation.

Howevere, when you heard Kuroo and you being mentioned, you felt like you were justified to listen to their conversation

"Fucking Kuroo..."

"He's so fucking annoying dude."

They sounded awfully agitated to you, which, honestly? You understood, considering you had to put up with Kuroo's shit almost everyday.

"I couldn't even get to Y/n for fucks sake..."

"I know. He's been glaring at us whenever we even tried to get close to her..."

"They're not dating tho, right?"

"Nah bro. But he has a huge crush on her. It’s so fucking obvious.”

"Damn… prolly just too scared to ask her out then… fuck it’s cold... let's get inside."

And with them leaving to go inside again, you were left there dumbfounded. What the hell did you just hear? There is no way that this was true.. right? There was just no way Kuroo had a crush on you. Not after all the things he did. No way. But then again, you had no clue if what these guys said was false. Or maybe they just misinterpreted the way Kuroo acted towards you and them.

Yet, you weren't really sure what to do or how to react really. All you did know though, was that you were going to try and avoid Kuroo as much as you were able to.

That's exactly what you did. You avoided Kuroo like your life depended on it. Whenever your friends tried to hang out together, you didn't appear, unless Kuroo wasn't there. In lectures you sat as far away from him as possible, even if it meant that you had to sit alone during some lectures. You did everything in your power to avoid him and it definitely worked for a week straight.

Until he decided himself, that he had enough of your childish bullshit. It was a quite uneventful Monday, where you tried to avoid Kuroo, just like you did the past week. After your last lecture, you decided you’d go to a café close to your Dorm, so you could pass some time there. As you were about to leave the building, you saw Kuroo standing right next to the exit. Without giving it a second thought, you did a 180 and immediately went the other way. But it was no use, because Kuroo had seen you turn around and walk away from him.

It was no use after all, because quite unfortunate for you, Kuroo was faster than you. So, right before you were able to run out another exit, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to him. “You’ve been avoiding me.” He pointed out, making sure you weren’t able to run away from him. “Ugh… no… I’ve just got an appointment…!” You lied, nervously smiling at him. To your reply, he raised an eyebrow, seemingly not convinced of your lie. “Uh huh. And that’s why ran away from me?” - “I wasn’t running away from you..! I just realised I was.. going the wrong way.” You argued back, finger pointing at the door you were about to exit. A sigh escaped his mouth, while he rubbing his temple in an annoying manner. “Yuki’s hosting a dinner tonight. Are you joining? “ - “No.. no I’m afraid not..” you replied quietly, looking away.

He then let go of you and without even saying anything else to you, he left. You watched him walk down the hallway, letting out a sigh of relief.

—

You felt bad for not joining Yuki’s dinner tonight, but you just couldn’t face Kuroo at the moment. A sigh escaped your lips as you sat down on the couch of your dorm, tunring on the TV to watch some lame series. While watching the series, you thought of the night of the party again, remembering the two guys who you heard talking about Kuroo and you. It felt as if you still heard them talking.

He has a huge crush on her. It’s so fucking obvious.

There was no way Kuroo had a crush on you. You were sure there was another reason he glared at them, probably just to prevent you from getting hurt, since you almost got drugged at the party… right? Yeah, that must’ve been it, because the way Kuroo acted towards you would indicate everything ,but him having a crush on you. You laughed to yourself, imagining how insanely silly it would be if Kuroo Tetsuroo had a crush on you. You bit your lip, turning off your TV, groaning to yourself.

Wait. Were you disappointed… that he might not have a crush on you? God no. You hated his guts, especially when he got on your nerves. And most definitely when he made fun of you. You hated him, you knew. Or… did you really?

You were about to scream out loud, when the doorbell rang out of the sudden. Getting up, with a visibly confused expression on your face, you made your way to the door. You weren’t expecting anyone. At least, you dont remember inviiting anyone over. So when you opened the door and Kuroo was standing in front of you, you almost passed out on the spot. Your first instinct was to just slam the door in his face, which did not end up quite as successful as you thought it would be.

Oh no, he held the door open by force. “You’re really driving me nuts, Y/n.” he hissed, making his way inside your dorm, slamming the door shut behind him. “What the hell?!” You yelled, seemingly confused why he was here in the first place.

“Oh you have nothing to be mad about.” He snapped, while walking dangerously close to you. “You’re fucking killing me Y/n.” You took a few steps back until you suddenly felt the door behind you. He did not back off, quite the opposite, he camee just as close as he was able to get without completley pressing you against the door. “What are you on about Kuroo…?” - “Quit toeing with my emotions, love. You sure can’t be that oblivious.” A soft, yet dangerous chuckle escaped his lips while he hovered above you. “You’re driving me crazy, and you sure as hell made it worse by trying to avoid me all week.”

This, had to be dream. There is no way in hell that this was just hapenening to you. You quietly looked up to him, not really knowing how to answer him.

You thought of something you could say to him, but he left you no time, when he crashed his lips onto yours. As if it was your second nature, your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you. His hands moved to your waist, trying to get you even closer than you already were. The kiss deepened within seconds and you could swear, you’ve never experienced something as sensual at this.

Once he pulled away from you, he grinned down at you like an idiot who had just won the lottery. Your face on the other hand, flushed red. “Awe look at you, are we getting shy?” He mocked, placing a short kiss on your lips. “Oh shut up you idiot.” You said, slightly hitting his chest which lead to him pretending you hurt his poor feelings.

“So… I heard you had a crush on me?” - “Well, obviously my dear. I’m just quite surprised you never noticed.” He answered slyly, squeezing your sides. You shook your head, replying to his comment. “Well you surely annoyed the shit out of me!” - “And that’s exactly what I thought would make it obvious.”

You roll your eyes, yet you had the biggest grin on your face. As he was about to make a remark, you shut him up by pulling him into another kiss.

Kuroo wasn’t as unbearable as you thought after all.

#haikyu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #haikyuu #kuroo tetsurō

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seiya234 · 8 months ago

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later, after everything had happened, Hank would be asked in the know- how had he not known, not noticed that he had any kind of magic earlier than Portland.

("I mean, your uncle is a fucking demon," Oonagh had said at an ice cream social once, before burping and going to pick a fight with her cousin)

Always, always Hank would demure, with a touch of partial truth: "Portland just brought out the best and weirdest part of me."

But that wasn't the full truth. And that, he would take with him to the dark at the end that awaits us all.

People who didn't know better thought that Mabel and Dipper had been born in Gravity Falls. Hell Hank knew better but even he could never quite tell you where in California they were really born... and that was only partially because of the family estrangement.

Dipper may have been the one to mine the mysteries of Gravity Falls (before becoming it's biggest Mystery of all) but it was Mabel who was really, truly invested. She had already finished their first summer on a first name basis with everyone in town, and after a year she could point to a building, any building in town, and tell you it's history, the people who had lived their before and what they had done. By high school graduation she had united all the peoples of the forest under the Great Pizza Party and Wrestlemania 34 Treaty. And by sophmore year of college she was on a first name basis... with everyone in a tri-county area.

(It was a long standing family joke, that any trip to the grocery store with Mom would take three times as long than with anyone else... but considering that the last trip Hank took with Mom to Wal-Mart started with her saying hi to a friend's mother-in-law's ex-roommate... well. Just saying.)

It was like Mabel... was a cuckoo's egg, placed in the nest of Gravity Falls, but without any displacement of the birds in the nest...

Well.

Kind of.

---

Growing up, it was impossible not to notice Mom's Presence everywhere in town.

Seriously, everywhere.

In many ways, it was an absolutely wonderful way to grow up. They were allowed a freedom that most kids their age could only dream of. Admittedly, because said freedom was backed up by a demon uncle.

But mostly, really, because they were Mabel's kids, and everyone loved Mabel. If they got in trouble, Mom would get a phone call within two minutes of the event. If one of them got hurt, there were three or four adults almost always on hand, appearing out of the woodwork to help.

It was wonderful and not at all suffocating to have almost no secrets because everyone, every place, knew Mom. And what Gravity Falls knew, Mom did too.

---

Years on, especially if he had had two beers, Hank would think again about the cuckoo.

It felt, sometimes, like Gravity Falls was almost... hollow. Or like a dollhouse, with the dolls laying still, limbs akimbo until

(mabel)

someone played with them again. How much of the Falls revolved around the three of them, around Dipper and Stan and Dad and Mom?

Of course, Hank could just be being silly. It was easy in childhood, to think that the world revolved around yourself and your family, that your stories were the only ones being told.

Easy to pop a third beer rather than to thinking about the spark, the soul of Gravity Falls, leaving when Mom finally passes.

The truth was that surrounded in a town that Mabel Pines had so thoroughly made her own, it was no wonder that he had no idea, no wonder that Acacia lived gently, but firmly an hour away.

(He had no idea how Willow was... doing it. That. Or why. He and Acacia had never gotten a good answer out of her.)

He loved his mom, obviously. And he knew she meant no ill will, did not knowingly do harm.

But he wondered, what egg got pushed out of the nest. Wondered what he would have become, in another Gravity Falls, if he wasn't the son of a cuckoo bird.

And wondered too, if he himself had simply repeated the whole damn process.

#transcendence au #seiya writes!

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radiohahas · 3 months ago

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(aged-up) hxh characters at a party

(a mix of canon and au)

this is very long so i put the rest under the cut ✂️ add any characters that i missed or your own scenarios!

gon: keg stand or about to jump from the roof to the pool. no one dared him, he just thought it’d be cool to try. if there is no pool, he’s doing something equally if not more stupid

killua: beer pong table or going through the stuff of whoever’s place it is, about to be told his boyfriend (gon) is about to do something stupid and always gets there to stop him just before he does zushi: losing at beer pong but trying really hard or getting hit on and doesn’t realize it

leorio: about to call it a night … but maybe one last drink? he’s done this like 6 times

alluka and nanika: they are treated like everyone’s little sisters and are unstoppable, having the time of their lives

kurapika: … has anyone seen kurapika?

morel: #1 party boy. constantly ordering more bottles from his special fancy alcohol delivery service. multiple people try to make him their sugar daddy but he is an eternal bachelor, except when it comes to—

knov: morel’s work wife/husband/life partner, who’s been in the car waiting for 45 minutes, and keeps getting texts like “come in” and “be out in 10” but again it’s been 45 minutes

pre-caa palm: a wallflower, nurses two drinks but stays until the party is almost winding down

post-caa palm: still a wallflower, but does shots

ikalgo: just happy to be there, enjoying every part of the party, undeniably tipsy, might try to dj

meruem: didn’t want to come but komugi did so

komugi: doesn’t go out often but wanted to experience a party, ready to leave at any moment to play gungi

royal guard: has a concerning drinking game going on - pitou’s winning, youpi’s losing, and pouf doesn’t care bc he’s still hung up on meruem (he also thinks all the remixes being played are terrible and tasteless)

knuckle: on the dancefloor and if there isn’t one he makes one, a happy drunk, shirt off and doesn’t know where it went

shoot: has knuckle’s shirt, sitting on the corner seat of the couch either really quietly bonding with someone or miserable, reading the spines of the books on the shelf next to the couch. might even read one. anyway, it’s knuckle who dragged him out in the first place

kite and crew: gathered around, drinking and reminiscing, playing board games (they brought their own if there are none) in the living room, trying to gently coax shoot (who is like … right there on the couch) into joining

phantom troupe: comes by only to steal a bunch of alcohol and leave; if they do stay, they join playing board games but are cheating. egregiously

hisoka: actually a wallflower, is nursing his own concoction he made in the kitchen, the most outrageous combination of alcohol known to humankind, that illumi says smells like something he once killed and forgot about when he was a kid

illumi: is literally ready to leave whenever hisoka is, or probably will before then. is also making comments about everyone’s outfits to hisoka in such an unimpressed tone which keeps making hisoka choke on his drink in amusement

meleoron: enjoys hearing the bass of the music outside the party while smoking on the balcony, will ask existential questions to anyone who’s outside long enough with him

melody: too loud inside, on the balcony with meleoron and casually talking philosophy. will take a hit of whatever he is offers … might have even seen kurapika at some point

bisky: she is either “too old for this nonsense” or making another pitcher of sangria and trying to convince whoever has control over the music to play some oldies and classic party hits from her youth

(if kurapika is there: he’s in the middle of a debate in the kitchen, and at this point he’s just roasting whoever he’s talking to while a crowd forms around them feeling sorry for his victim. someone has to eventually grab leorio so he can administer first aid for all the sick burns lol but to also pull kurapika away bc it was getting too brutal. common phrase used when that happens is “he brought the shovel” meaning RIP to whoever even tries argue with kurapika bc he will bury you—he once roasted a member of the phantom troupe so hard no one's seen him at a party since—so it's, like, fact)

#forgot about this in my drafts and wrote this instead of sleeping iirc #idk what possessed me #only tagged characters that came to mind #hxh #hxh headcanons #idk what else to tag this #hxh au #killugon #hisoillu #too many characters to tag #my headcanons

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scrompsmilanodiaries · 1 month ago

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Outlaws and old friends

FINALLY !! I have a new story !! Word count:2.4K

1984: Since day dot you and Peter have been best friends, as soon as each respected mother introduced you two, you were practically inseparable, Liking the same cartoons, music and video games. You were there for Peter when his mom got her cancer diagnosis, doing everything in your power to help make their lives a little easier... But all that changed... on one faithful night.

1988: You were waiting in front of the school looking for Peter, He didn't show up, maybe he was running late, But later on in the day he didn't show up, He might be sick, so you went to pay him a visit after school. But as you walked to the Quill residence, a poster caught your eye... a missing person's poster. Your heart was shattered when you saw whose face it was, tearing the poster off and rushing back home. Your mother trying to console you while your dad ran his Grandpa to find out what was going on, When his mom passed away he rushed out of the hospital and simply... vanished. Every dad and every night since that you've been hoping to find him, joining on whatever search party there was to find him... for 20 long excruciating years, even when the case was called off, you never gave up, you sat lonesome on the park hill, looking out into the town as memories played in your mind... how you missed him so damn much.

"Where are you ??...." You said as tears began to fall, as you headed back to your car, you had a light shine on you then what felt like you were being pulled into it... and like that the ship that took you whisked out of the atmosphere, little did you know... paths will cross again.

Present day: The guardians of the galaxy have recently finished a mission and were paid very well, all the members were off doing their own things. Peter leaned back in the chair as he stared out into the cosmos, feet propped up on the control console as he listened to his awesome mix tape. Rocket was tinkering nearby with his latest gadget, Groot was getting a much needed rest, Drax polishing his knives was Gamora sat down with a book she picked up a planet or two ago.

Meanwhile further out on a nearby Ravager outpost. The latest prisoner transport had just arrived, Among the group of detainees was y/n, now older slightly stronger and vastly different from the person Peter had known, the galaxy seemed to have shaped them into someone resilient.

Back at the Milano, Peter was flipping through the dozens of jobs through a holographic screen when Rocket spoke up.

"Yo Quill, got some chatter about a Ravager post nearby. Seems they just brought in a new batch of 'recruits' Figure we could shake 'em down for supplies... Or credits"

Peter smirked as he sat up, readjusting the coordinates. "Sounds like a party. Alright gang, to the cockpit, we're making a pitstop"

At the outpost, Y/n was shoved into a holding cell, falling to the rusted floor.

"Easy !!"

"Shuddup you little scut !!" The ravager barked at you. "Wait till Starhawk gets a load of you !!" They slammed the cell door shut as you got up and looked around, trying to make sense of your surroundings, minutes felt like a few hours until you heard the alarms blaring as ravager's ran past your cell in a hurry.

"What the flark ??" You said as you tried to look out.

You heard a few bangs off in the distance, each one sounding closer and closer, making you back into a corner... was someone going to bust you out ?? You didn't even have to think when the door blasted open, making you flinch. Smoke filled the room and with whatever light there was, you could see silhouettes of a few people fill it, leading the charge was what looked like a man in a red jacket and a helmet, he was carrying dual blasters in his hands, striding in like he owned the place.

"Alright folks, you're all free to go. You're welcome, by the way, no need to thank me all at once" Peter said as the prisoners rushed out of the door. He then turned to Rocket who was messing around with a nearby security panel. "Rocket, remind me why you are doing this pro bono ??"

"Because I wanna see if any of these losers have something worth selling" He shot back, not looking away from what he was doing.

As the two argued, it was then the helmet was switched off, giving you a good look at the face... the voice sounding familiar... It made your heart skip a beat... It couldn't be...

"Peter ??..." You said after finding your voice, a voice in a mix of disbelief and hope.

Peter froze mid-argument and slowly turned toward the voice. His brow furrowed as he studied your face. "Wait... no way. Y/n !?"

You blinked to make sure what you were seeing was real and it wasn't a hallucination, nope it was real. "Oh my god..." You smiled as tears began to form in your eyes... after so long he was here... he was right here.

Peter's eyes widened as recognition clicked to him and a grin spread across his face. "Y/n !! Holy crap" He holstered his blasters and took a few quick steps towards you, looking you up and down like he couldn't believe it. "Wha... what... what are you doing here ?!!" He let out a laugh, a mix of disbelief and excitement, clapping a hand on your shoulder gently. "Man, I never thought I'd see you again !! You... Uh, you've definitely grown since the last time I saw you" He chuckled as did you. "Look, this probably isn't the best place for a reunion, C'mon we'll talk on the ship, follow me !!" He motioned you to follow.

As you, Peter and Rocket make your way through the halls, you heard heavy footsteps and shouts closing in behind you, Peter turned, raising his blasters, ready to cover the escape. "They never make it easy, do they ??" He muttered.

But before he could fire a shot, you stepped forward, your movements quick and precise. A combination of punches, kicks and what seemed to be a mastery of hand-to-hand combat, You dispatched the ravagers with starling efficiency. As one tried to pull out a weapon, you quickly disarmed them in a blur and knocked them out cold.

"Whoa whoa whoa !! Since when did they become a freaking ninja !!" Rocket said as he was setting up a makeshift explosive to get the door open.

Peter blinked, blasters still raised but unused, watching you as you dusted yourself off and ran back to them. "Okay... Uh, not what I was expecting, when did you get so... badass ??"

You smirked, catching your breath as you straightened up. "It's a long story, Let's just say the galaxy has a way of teaching you a thing or two"

"Well, remind me never to get on your bad side" Peter said clearly impressed. "Now come, on before more of them show up"

Rocket grumbled softly, still fiddling with the bomb. "Show-off"

As Rocket managed to blow up the door, the trio made it out just in time, meeting up with the others and taking off, hyper jumping to a different planet to rest and lay low. Once settled, you had the chance to properly walk up to him. You took a good look at Peter as the others watched on in mild curiosity. Peter looked older... stronger and sharper in some ways, but still carrying the same mischievous grin you remembered. The reality of seeing him again after so many years hit hard, and you couldn't keep it bottled up anymore.

"I thought I lost you..." You said quietly, voice tinged with emotion.

Peter's grin faltered, replaced by something softer. "Yeah... I thought I lost you too man" He took a step closer, his voice quieter now. "When I got... Y'know, taken all those years ago, I thought I'd never see anyone from back home again. I didn't even know if you were still... I mean..."

He started to trail off, clearly struggling to find the words. For a moment the usual cocky and confident Star-Lord was replaced by the same kid Y/n had grown up with, vulnerable and unsure.

"But you're here... somehow. and, man... I don't even know where to start" He chuckled and spread his arms in equal parts confusion and relief. "How the hell did you even end up out here..."

You chuckled and rushed into them, hugging him tightly as if you were to let go he would disappear. "I was taken..."

"Same way as me huh ??" Peter chuckled as wrapped his arms around you and patted your back. The hug broke as he looked back at you again, shaking his head softly. "After all this time..." He then looked over at the others and cleared his throat, forgetting to introduce you. "And hey, welcome to my... uh, humble space bachelor pad. it's got everything. Uncomfortable seats, a tree, a talking raccoon..."

"Don't push your luck quill" Rocket growled.

"Right... A kylosian muscle head" Nodding to drax.

"Greetings young y/n" Drax politely greeted.

"And we have Gamora" He nodded, respecting her by not telling her back story. "Anyway, make yourself at home, we've got a lot of catching up to do"

Gamora then approached you and smirked a little. "So this is the famous 'y/n' you told us about" She turned to Peter.

He shot her a playful look, pretending to be defensive. "Famous ?? I mean, I might've mentioned them once... or twice. tops"

Rocket snorted, crossing his arms. "Try every time we pass a planet that looks like terra."

Peter rolled his eyes then turned back to you with a shrug and a sheepish smile. "What can I say, You're hard to forget"

"As with you" You gently nudged him soon finding yourself yawning, needing a nap badly.

"Come on, you've been through a little slice of hell, I've got a spare bunk in my quarters. It's nothing fancy but it's better than passing out on the floors" Peter chuckled.

He led you all the way to his quarters, a small but surprisingly cozy space filled with trinkets and gadgets from Terra and beyond. Taped on the wall was a faded picture of Peter as a kid holding what was probably the last Polaroid picture he had taken before he left Earth. You couldn't help but notice it as you sat down on the guest bed, your body finally relaxing.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure Rocket doesn't mess with your stuff" Peter said with a grin as he leaned against the doorway. "Well, I'll try anyway. Get some rest" He gave a playful salute before closing the door behind him.

You laid your head down as your body slowly began to wear off the adrenaline from the escape, for the first time in what felt like forever, You finally felt safe, a small smile tugging your lips as you drifted off.

After a few hours, You eventually woke up and lifted yourself off the bed. Rubbing your face softly as you yawned, the Polaroid picture caught your eyes again. You stood up and walked over to it, your fingers brushing the edges of the worn tape keeping it in place. It was surreal seeing a piece of Earth, something so familiar, in the middle of a spaceship lightyears away from home. You chuckled softly as you glanced around the room, spotting his walkman resting on the table next to a stack of cassette tapes. The sight brought a wave of nostalgia, reminding him of all the times Peter had blasted his favourite songs, whether you liked them or not.

The door then slid open suddenly, and Pete poked his head in, a grin already on his face. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty's finally awake !! How was the bunk ?? Not too many springs stabbing you in the back, right ??"

He stepped fully into the room, holding a steaming mug of coffee, space coffee at least. "Figured you could use this, you always were a zombie in the mornings" He grinned.

"Thanks..." You gently took the mug and took a sip. "So... How's things ??" You chuckled awkwardly.

Peter leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched you with a small smile, He could sense the awkwardness. 30 years was a hell of a gap to bridge.

"Where do I even start ??" He shook his head softly as he sat down on the bed. "It's been... chaotic, to say the least. You're lookin' at the galaxy's most wanted outlaw-turned hero-turned sometimes idiot. Saved a few planets, blew up some stuff, got double-crossed more times than I can count, and somehow ended up babysitting this crew" He vaguely gestured outside. "But honestly... It's not all bad. I've got a ship and a decent crew... when they're not driving me insane. Plus a bunch of killer mixtapes to keep me company. How about you, what's the story with y/n ?? The last time I checked, you weren't exactly spacefaring material at all." A glint of curiosity and genuine care was evident in his eyes as he sipped from his own mug.

You sat down next to him as you began to explain your side. "I was walking back to my car when outta nowhere this ship comes barrelling down. I didn't even have time to run. The next thing I knew, I woke up in some lab with a bunch of other captives... Turns out, they were bounty hunters who figured Earth had 'rare' specimens..." You took another sip as you set your mug down. "I managed to escape... not without a fight... and after that, I kinda just adapted..." You paused as you looked at him with a faint smile. "Never thought I'd run into you out here though. I figured you were long gone. Either dead or living it up in some space palace somewhere"

Peter's smile grew a little warmer, The old friendship shining through despite the years. "Guess you're just as scrappy as I remember"

"Thanks... You as well" You chuckled.

At that moment you unofficially became a member of the guardians of the galaxy, for the first time in years, you felt at home, and Peter couldn't have been happier to have his best friend back by his side.

A/N: I really hope you all enjoyed it !! also consider this as a free invitation to request any form of extension to the story, whether it be Peter, Rocket, Groot, Drax or gamora I'm down.

Taglist: @callofdudes

#guardians of the galaxy #gotg imagine #gotg x reader #gotg #platonic #reader insert #rocket raccoon #peter quill x reader #peter quill imagine #peter quill #star lord imagine #star lord x reader #star lord #gamora #drax #groot

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