#i need to go OUT i need to get DRUNK or SOMETHING

[onlyhereforthestories]

Chica Medica - Part 5 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

So its been a while (sorry!) You won't have to wait long for the final few parts of this I am half way through the next part. Thank you all who have stuck with me, this was one of the first things I wrote and I feel a little emotional that it is finally coming to an end. Anyway enough ramble enjoy part 5!

You had gone through your whole wardrobe by this point, and you still couldn’t find the right thing to wear. All your clothes were spread around your room in various states of crinkled from the constant changing you had been doing. Nothing was working together or, or you were not feeling confident in others.

You checked you phone to see you had exactly 23 minutes before Leila and Mapi were due to collect you, so you knew you needed to get a move on. Deciding the only way you were actually going to put anything on over the underwear you currently resided in was with some help, you dialled the number of the only person who could sort you out.

Ona picked up on the second ring, “Hola Hermana, what can I do for you?” her smile and voice had the wave of calm you needed right now to stop your mind from its current running all over the place.

“I need help. I have Christmas drinks with the Barca girls tonight and I don’t know what to wear, I have tried my whole wardrobe on and nothing is right. I need you to just tell me what to wear.” Ona could hear the frustration in your voice.

“I’m guessing you are only this stressed about what you look like because of a certain midfielder, you never care about what you look. I’ve literally been to the club with you in joggers before.” You rolled your eyes at the woman before giving her a pointed look through your phone. Now wasn’t the time for memories or teasing you about the fact that you were hyperaware of the brunette that would in fact see you in the clothes you picked tonight.

“Ona please.” You pulled out the puppy eyes and the bottom lip, both of which you knew would get Ona helping you in a couple seconds flat.

“Oh, you really want my help you’ve pulled out the big guns. Okay show me what I’m working with. Ooooo actually do you still have that black silk shirt? The one you wore to you knows party?” you knew exactly what shirt she meant, it was the only item you had not actually tried on tonight, you’d just chucked it to the side.

“I do yes. Is that not like bad luck or something to wear?” Could you really wear a shirt your ex loved on you so much to a party you were so worried about looking good for because of the new person you had feelings for.

“She didn’t buy it for you I did, and you look really, really hot in it so if you want Alexia to drool over you, I would definitely say wear it.” You found it in the pile of clothes and picked out some beige slacks with the help of Ona, you chatted with the Manchester United player while you got ready and only said goodbye when you heard the doorbell ring.

Getting to the hired club was fun, Mapi and Leila had both complimented your outfit and made comments about who you were trying to impress much to your annoyance. The best thing was they both promised to protect or help you if you needed it, something that you almost chocked up on thanking them for. You were very lucky to have such amazing friends around you.

When the three of you got in you could tell it was going to be a fun night, Pina came running over to you all with Patri hot on her heels both had beers in both hands, and you were all passed one. Apparently, a drink had to be drunk as soon as you got in to be allowed to join the big group at the table.

Not one to back down from any challenge, you smirked at the two younger women who gave you the drink as you held the beer up in a semi cheers to them and downed it in a very easy and quick time. When you wiped your upper lip, you couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Claudia’s face. The younger woman’s jaw was on the floor so to say, and she had a slight spark of awe in her eyes.

What you didn’t know was that Alexia had walked in with Jenni just as you raised your beer so got to watch you smoothly chug it. An action from you that she found very hot indeed and even voiced that accidently out loud which put her on the receiving end of a slap to the back of the head from her best friend.

Righting herself and sending a quick but not really meant sorry to the older woman, Alexia walked just behind the little group surrounding you to the table where she was greeted with her own drink to see off as quickly as she could. She took a lot longer and struggled a lot more than you did to do it.

As the night went on the drinks flowed more and more, you had had your fair share but had stopped once the pleasant buzz had fully kicked in. You really didn’t like the feeling of losing your senses anymore, so you knew when to switch to sodas. Alexia had noticed you do this and chose to do the same thing in order to hopefully talk with you when her confidence wasn’t on the floor.

Confidence or not her opportunity came when Leila dragged the people on your table up and to the dance floor and you waved them away, stating you needed to watch and see what moves they were doing before you could join in. An excuse for sure but Alexia wasn’t going to complain.

Taking a breath to calm her already racing heart she grabbed her drink and walked towards you. “Mind if I join you?”

“I was wondering how long it would take you to come over here once they left. You pleasantly surprised me with a little under a minute.” You faced her with a giggle, which turned into a full on laugh when you saw her cheeks heat up. “I am only messing with you, of course you can sit. In fact, I would really like it if you did.” It was your turn to blush now, the alcohol you had consumed earlier obviously making your lips a little looser then they would normally be.

“I haven’t got a chance to tell you how stunning you look. That shirt is incredible.” Alexia wasn’t hiding her obvious attraction to the outfit you were wearing, in fact you could see it swimming in her gaze.

“You look incredible yourself, I do have to admit that open back dress on you will always get to me.” You were again saying a lot, more than you ever had in fact. Your inner thoughts of tracing the tattoos on her back came to mind and you had to shake your head to clear your mind of that briefly.

You did manage to catch her ducking her head at what you said, and it boosted your confidence a little bit. Deciding that you needed another actual drink now that this situation was clearly happening you decided you were not going to do it alone. “Do you want to get a drink with me?”

“I’d love nothing else. Lead the way, but drinks are on me.” Alexia was standing next to where you were sitting in the booth with her hand held out to you, a hopeful look in her eyes. A hopefully look that turned into full blown joy the second you placed your hand in hers and made to stand up.

Alexia was quick to drag you with her to the bar where she got you both a shot and a normal drinking drink. Those were drunk at the bar, the both of you enjoying the time away from the bulk of the group and slightly further away from the music so you didn’t have to shout so much to hear one another.

Alexia had just downed the last of her drink while making direct eye contact with you, taking the obvious hint she was giving you, you downed the last bit of your own. As you put the glass down on the bar you found a hand placed on the small of your back and your body gently pulled in the direction Ale was moving. You ended up on the dance floor with the rest of the girls, you split of slightly from the woman that was always on your mind so you could join the girls that dragged you here.

You danced with them all for an unknown amount of time, you were having the best time, and it didn’t matter who you were with. Alexia would slide up behind you every so often and get you dancing with her before she let you go back to either Mapi or Leila depending on who was requesting your presence.

As the night progressed and you consumed your final drink, you cut yourself off as you knew this was your limit. You knew that if you drank anymore it would go from a fun slightly heavy night to a messy night. Apparently, Alexia was in agreement because about 30 minutes after that final drink she was heading towards the bar to get water, something that you were planning on doing too.

“Did you get water?” You didn’t realise how much you were pressed up to the woman, but she did. Alexia could feel the curve of you pressed up against her and it was sending her head spinning more than alcohol every could. She took a second to compose herself before glancing over her shoulder and answering you.

“Si.” You smiled before requesting that she made that two. With a water in each of her hands she nudged your shoulder to get you moving back in the direction of the booth you were in earlier.

As you and Alexia returned to the booth, drinks in hand, the atmosphere between you was charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. The club was still buzzing with energy. Laughter and music filled the air, but here in your little corner, everything seemed quieter, more intimate.

You settled in next to Alexia, close enough that your knees brushed under the table. It sent a spark through you, but you focused on your water, taking a long sip to calm the nerves that had been building all night.

"Did you enjoy the dancing?" Alexia asked, her voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music. She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your ear, and you tried not to let it affect you too much.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at her with a playful smirk. "Especially when you kept sneaking up behind me."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t break eye contact. "I thought you liked that."

You raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t say I didn’t." The tension between you hung in the air like a charged wire, sparking every time you exchanged a glance or a touch.

For a while, you talked casually; about the team, about the night, both of you skirting around the real conversation neither of you seemed ready to have. But the underlying feeling of something more was undeniable, every small gesture, every laugh shared, seemed to pull you closer.

After a bit of quiet, you glanced over at the dance floor where Leila and Mapi were making a scene with some questionable dance moves. You shook your head, laughing softly. "I don’t know how they manage to be so ridiculous and so fun at the same time."

Alexia grinned. "That’s Mapi and Leila for you. But it looks like they’re having a good time. I think this was really needed for them." You always admired how much the woman cared for her teammates, it was one of the many things that made her such a wonderful captain.

You nodded in agreement but felt the weight of her gaze on you, the air between you growing heavier. The rest of the room faded into the background, and suddenly, sitting so close to her, the only thing you could focus on was the warmth radiating from her body and how easily her presence made your heart race.

Without thinking, you stood up, needing a moment to collect yourself. "I’m going to the bathroom," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "I’ll be right back."

Alexia watched you go, her eyes following you as you made your way through the crowd. The moment you disappeared into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, she stood up, almost on instinct, and followed. She caught up with you just as you reached the door to the bathroom.

"Hey," she called softly, causing you to turn around. Her gaze was intense, her brown eyes darker under the dim club lights. "Wait a second."

You stopped, heart pounding in your chest. "What is it?"

For a moment, Alexia just looked at you, like she was weighing her next words, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you. The hallway was dimly lit, the noise from the club muffled, and the two of you stood close, the space between you shrinking with every passing second.

Her hand brushed yours, a light touch that sent a shiver up your spine. "I—" she began, but whatever words she’d been about to say faded into silence. Instead, she leaned in slowly, giving you a moment to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You couldn’t not with her.

Your heart raced as her lips met yours, the kiss slow and deliberate. It wasn’t the rushed, drunken kiss from before; this one was different. It was tender, purposeful, and full of the tension that had been building between you all night. This kiss was meant, you could feel it in the way you both eased into it and melted into one another.

You kissed her back, your hands instinctively moving to her waist, pulling her closer. The world around you disappeared, leaving just the feel of her lips against yours, soft but insistent, like she had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

"I... I’ve been wanting to do that all night," Alexia admitted softly, her thumb brushing over your hand, still entwined with hers. You got slightly lost in the feeling of her warm breath running over your lips as she was still so close to you.

You let out a soft laugh, your heart still pounding in your chest. "I’m glad you did."

Before you could say more, you heard familiar voices approaching from the direction of the club. You glanced at Alexia, the tension still palpable between you.

"We should get back before they notice we’re both gone," you said, though a part of you wasn’t ready for this moment to end. A part of you knew that if you could you would stand here like this with Alexia for as long as she would allow.

Alexia nodded, but her fingers lingered on your hand for a second longer before letting go. "Right. Yes."

Just as you both started to head back to the booth, Leila and Mapi came around the corner, clearly on a mission to find you. "There you are!" Leila exclaimed with a mischievous grin. "We were wondering where our chica medica disappeared to."

Mapi’s eyes flicked between you and Alexia, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Ohhhh, what did we miss?"

You laughed, trying to play it cool. "Nothing much. Just needed a break from all your terrible dancing."

Leila gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "Excuse me, my moves are iconic."

Alexia chuckled beside you, but you could still feel the tension simmering beneath the surface. You weren’t sure if Mapi and Leila could sense it, but you knew you couldn’t stay here much longer without risking more teasing or worse, revealing too much.

"I think I’m going to head home," you said suddenly, glancing at Alexia for a brief second before turning to your friends. "It’s been a long day."

Leila and Mapi exchanged a glance but didn’t push. "We’ll come with you," Leila offered, her tone softer now. "It’s getting late anyway."

"Yeah," Mapi added, clearly sensing there was more going on but choosing not to dig, for now at least. "Let’s get out of here."

As you all made your way out of the club, Alexia stayed close to you, her arm brushing against yours every so often. You didn’t speak much, but the kiss still lingered in the air between you, full of possibility and unanswered questions.

And though you weren’t quite sure what would happen next, for now, you were content knowing that something had shifted between you and Alexia, something that felt too real to ignore.

The final whistle echoed through the stadium, marking the end of the last game before Christmas. The team had secured a comfortable win, and the energy in the locker room was buzzing with excitement. You smiled, watching the others as they celebrated, but your mind was already elsewhere, on the gift you’d been planning for Alexia.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and you both had flights to catch you were heading home to your family, and Alexia was off to Dubai for a much-deserved break as well as the award ceremony she had to attend. Despite the unspoken tension between you, the connection had only grown deeper, especially after that night at the club. But there were still so many things left unsaid, and you wanted to give her something so that she knows you are thinking of her over the break.

The present you had picked wasn’t overly sentimental, but it was personal. Something that could remind her of your time together while not being overly obvious to anyone outside of the two of you. You had chosen a silver necklace with a pendant that had a small wave on it, echoing the tattoo she had on her arm. To you, the wave symbolized something constant and unyielding just like the ocean, always in motion but forever steady. It was your way of telling her that, no matter what storms or calm seas lay ahead, you would be there, quietly supporting her, just as the ocean never stops flowing. You remembered a conversation you had shared about her tattoo and how it made you feel, how it reminded you that even when things are chaotic, some things, like your care for her, would always remain steady.

Attached to the box that held the necklace was a simple note with "Open on Christmas" written across the top in your neat handwriting. You didn’t dare give it to her directly, it wasn’t a grand gesture, but the idea of watching her reaction made your stomach flutter nervously.

As the team headed for the showers, you saw your chance. While everyone was distracted, you slipped over to Alexia’s bag. Glancing around to make sure no one noticed, you carefully placed the small box deep inside, just under her change of clothes. The note, tucked on top of the box, would be the first thing she’d see when she unpacked the bag later.

Your heart raced a little as you zipped her bag back up, the nerves making your hands slightly shaky. You weren’t sure what Alexia would think, but you hoped she’d at the very least like the necklace, even if she didn’t appreciate the meaning.

Just as you finished, Mapi walked by, oblivious to what you’d just done. "Hey, you ready to head out?" she asked, a wide grin on her face.

"Yeah," you replied, forcing a calmness into your voice. "Just about."

As the rest of the team began to gather their things, you exchanged a few quick goodbyes. With the Christmas break upon you, you’d all be going your separate ways for the holidays. You lingered for a moment, watching Alexia as she packed up her own bag, a small smile playing on her lips as she laughed at something Jenni said. You wondered when she’d find the present, and a nervous excitement built in your chest. You just hoped shed find it before she left, the logical part of your brain knew she would. Alexia couldn’t not unpack and clean away her kit bag after every session, it was something she had told you at the start of your time together.

That evening Alexia did exactly as you thought she would, she was slightly distracted with thoughts of you, slightly annoyed at herself for not speaking to you before she left the grounds. As she unpacked her bag, Alexia pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on getting comfortable. She was just about to pull out her toiletries when her fingers brushed against something unexpected, something small and wrapped. Frowning, she pulled it out from the bottom of her bag, her breath catching when she saw the small box wrapped in simple paper with a note attached.

"Open on Christmas," it read in your familiar handwriting, the instructions clear.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of Alexia’s lips as she ran her thumb over the words. You had managed to sneak this into her bag without her noticing, and now, holding the gift in her hands, a warmth spread through her chest. It was thoughtful, quiet, just like you had always been when it came to her.

The next morning, Christmas Eve arrived, and the airport was packed with travellers rushing to get home or off on holiday. You were there early, having left for your flight to see your family. As you waited in line at security, you couldn’t stop thinking about the gift you’d left in Alexia’s bag. You pictured her finding it when she unpacked, seeing the note telling her to wait until Christmas to open it. You just hoped she listened to it and took it with her.

Part of you felt nervous, wondering if it was too much or maybe not enough. But you pushed the thoughts aside as your boarding group was called. You checked your phone one last time and saw a message from Mapi, teasing you about the quiet night in before you both left.

You responded with a quick laugh emoji, then turned off your phone as you headed through the gate.

Later that morning, Alexia was checking in for her flight to Dubai. She was looking forward to the break, but her mind kept drifting back to the past few weeks, and more specifically, to you. Things had felt different lately, not just because of the kiss, but because of how you seemed to understand her in a way not many people did.

She sighed softly, adjusting her carry-on bag as she walked through the airport. The team had celebrated last night, and now they were all headed in different directions. As she sat down in the waiting area for her flight, she thought back to the locker room, wondering if she’d missed her chance to say something to you before you left. But then again, you had both left so many things unsaid.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an announcement for boarding. She stood up, rolling her shoulders to relax, and joined the line for her flight. As she settled into her seat on the plane, she tucked her bag under the seat in front of her, the box with the note she discovered last night tucked neatly in a pocket inside the bag.

After a long flight from Barcelona, Alexia finally landed in Dubai, exhausted but relieved to be away from the whirlwind of the season for a few days. The city sparkled beneath the night sky as she made her way to the hotel, her thoughts wandering to the time off she would finally have to herself.

Once inside her hotel room, the silence felt both comforting and strange. The entire flight had been spent mulling over the last few weeks, her thoughts drifting to you more than she’d like to admit. She hadn’t been able to figure out where she stood with you, especially after that kiss, and the uncertainty had left her unsettled.

Her mind was also on the wrapped gift she now had put on the desk in her hotel room, she could see it from her place laying on the bed. She didn’t get you anything which wasn’t because she didn’t want to, she was just scared it wasn’t the right move. Apparently, you had the bigger balls of the two.

She got up and walked to where the gift was placed, she picked it up and re read the little note on top. Her mind involuntarily making her smile at the thought of you scribbling it. She turned it over a few times contemplating whether to open it now or not.

But it wasn’t Christmas yet, and despite the temptation to tear it open right then and there, Alexia placed the small box on the nightstand. She’d wait until midnight. It wasn’t long, and she wanted to do it properly.

As the evening passed, she showered, had a light dinner, and spent some time aimlessly scrolling through her phone. But her thoughts kept drifting back to the gift waiting for her. The curiosity of what you had chosen for her grew with each passing minute, and as the clock crept closer to midnight, the anticipation made her heart beat just a little faster.

Finally, when her phone’s clock ticked over to 12:00, Alexia got up and reached for the gift, her fingers carefully undoing the wrapping. She peeled away the paper slowly, savouring the moment, until she uncovered the small box underneath. Her breath hitched slightly as she lifted the lid, revealing a delicate silver necklace nestled inside, with a tiny, intricately engraved wave symbol on a pendant.

For a long moment, Alexia just stared at it, running her fingers gently over the pendant. The wave it was very similar to the one she forever has on her arm. She understood it immediately. The constant, steady flow of the ocean, like how you had been there for her, quietly supporting her through her physical recovery and beyond. It was personal, thoughtful, and most of all perfect.

Her eyes fell on the folded note tucked inside the box. She unfolded it carefully, her heart thudding in her chest as she read your words:

Ale,

For all the times you’ve been my steady wave, keeping me grounded even when you didn’t know it. Merry Christmas.

Y/N

Alexia’s breath caught in her throat as she read the message. She hadn’t expected to feel this much emotion over a simple gift, but the weight of your words settled deep in her chest. It wasn’t just the bracelet, it was everything. The way you had been there for her, listening to her, supporting her, even when she hadn’t been sure of her own feelings. The message was your feelings about her, but they very much reflected her own for you too.

She leaned back against the pillows, the necklace still resting in her palm as she stared at it, feeling the emotions swell up inside her. It wasn’t just a gift. It was a message, one that told her, in no uncertain terms, that you were thinking of her, that you cared. That you might well always care if she would let you.

For the first time in a long time, Alexia allowed herself to think about what might come next. You were more than just her physiotherapist. You had become someone important, someone she couldn’t stop thinking about.

As she slipped the necklace around her neck, she made a quiet promise to herself. When she returned to Barcelona, she’d talk to you. Really talk. She wasn’t going to let this connection slip away, not after everything that had happened between you.

She glanced at the clock again, the soft ticking of the seconds filling the quiet room. It was Christmas now, and despite the miles between you, Alexia felt closer to you than she had in weeks. Smiling softly, she ran her fingers over the pendant one more time before closing her eyes, your words still lingering in her mind.

Merry Christmas.

Christmas with your family had been exactly what you needed. It had been cozy, familiar, and full of the warmth you'd missed while away in Spain. You'd spent a few extra days with them, catching up on lost time and letting yourself fully relax before heading back to reality. But after a while, the pull to reconnect with old friends had you itching to get out of the house.

It was Ona, of course, who suggested you stay in England a little longer after Christmas. "Why rush back?" she had said over FaceTime, her face lighting up at the idea. "We don’t have training for another few days, and you deserve some downtime with your friends. Take it."

You’d agreed, and soon you found yourself planning a few nights out with some of your old friends from the England team. That included Leah. The tension between you and her had lessened, especially after you had decided that a proper conversation was long overdue. There were still things to be said, things you couldn’t quite walk away from until they were fully resolved.

So, it was then that you found yourself out with a mix of friends from your past clubs, including Leah, Beth, and a few others. It was a relaxed evening at a familiar bar, drinks flowing and laughter filling the air. You weren’t overly worried about how it might look, knowing that everything with Leah was firmly in the past. But the conversation needed to happen, and tonight felt like the right time.

You and Leah stepped away from the group for a moment, moving to a quieter corner where you could talk privately. The noise of the bar created a bubble of privacy around you both as you began to speak.

"I’ve been meaning to say this for a while," Leah started, her voice soft but steady. "I’m sorry for how things ended between us. I know I didn’t handle things well, and it hurt you more than I realized at the time."

You nodded, appreciating her honesty. It wasn’t easy to dig into the past, but this conversation felt necessary. "It wasn’t easy for either of us," you admitted. "But I’m glad we’re talking about it now. I think we both needed this. I think it’s time for us to both let go of the past and move on with our lives."

Leah smiled, the tension between you dissolving as the conversation continued. It was nothing more than an honest exchange, two people clearing the air. But what you didn’t know was that in the background, someone else had unknowingly captured the moment on their phone.

Beth Mead had been recording a playful story for Instagram, filming some of the team dancing and enjoying the night out. In the background, just out of focus, you and Leah were caught in a seemingly intimate conversation, standing close as you talked quietly. It was innocent, but without context, the image could easily be misinterpreted.

Thousands of miles away, in the luxury of her hotel in Dubai, Alexia scrolled through her phone after a long day. The trip had been relaxing so far, a much-needed break from the intensity of the season, but her thoughts kept drifting back to you. She hadn’t heard much from you since before Christmas, and the uncertainty of where you stood with each other was gnawing at her.

Her thumb paused over an Instagram story from Beth Mead, recognizing several familiar faces in the crowd. She smiled at the sight of you laughing with your friends, but as the story continued to play, her heart dropped. In the background of the video, you and Leah were standing together, heads close, deep in conversation. The image of the two of you, smiling and looking comfortable with each other, sent a pang of jealousy straight through her.

She stared at the screen for a long moment, her mind racing. Were you getting back together with Leah? Had she misread everything between the two of you?

Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and opened her messages, typing out a quick message to Ona.

Ale: Hey, I saw something. Is Y/N back with Leah? They were together at a bar, looked... close. Just want to know.

The message sent, and Alexia sat there, biting her lip as she waited for a reply. The logical part of her knew she shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but the image from the story kept replaying in her mind. What if you were moving on with Leah? What if she had missed her chance?

It wasn’t long before her phone buzzed with Ona’s response:

Ona: It’s not my place to say anything, Ale, but trust me it’s not what you’re thinking. Just... give her time to explain when she’s ready.

Alexia stared at the message, her heart still unsettled. Ona’s words were somewhat reassuring, but they weren’t enough to silence the nagging doubt in her mind. She didn’t want to overstep, but the thought of losing you to Leah, especially after everything you and Alexia had shared, was hard to swallow.

Back in England, you were unaware of the storm brewing. The night had ended on a positive note, with you and Leah parting on good terms, both of you agreeing that the past was where it belonged. You felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You felt like you were finally in a place where you could move forward and you had in mind the person you wanted to do that with, hopefully.

It wasn’t until the next morning, when you checked your phone, that you noticed a missed call from Ona. Confused, you called her back immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, leaning back against your bed, still feeling the contentment of last night’s resolution with Leah.

Ona’s voice was calm but cautious. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Alexia saw a video from last night of you and Leah. She asked if you were back together.”

Your stomach dropped. “What? No, we were just talking. Clearing the air.”

“I know,” Ona reassured you. “But the video doesn’t exactly show the context. You two were in the background, and I think Alexia got the wrong idea. Well actually I know she did.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. Of course, Alexia would see that. Of all the things to misinterpret... You could picture her in Dubai, overthinking everything, and the thought made your chest tighten.

“What should I do?” you asked, feeling the weight of the situation now settling over you.

“I didn’t tell her anything beyond that it wasn’t what she thought. But you might want to talk to her, explain things when you’re ready,” Ona suggested. "She’s over there worrying, Y/N. It’s not my business, but I can tell she’s thinking the worst, which I know isn’t fair to you. You both have baggage, and you haven’t worked this all out yet, you need to talk to each other. And properly Y/N."

You nodded, even though Ona couldn’t see you. “Yeah I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been great at doing that. I wanted to sort the Leah thing before I had that conversation with Ale but maybe I should have been a bit more open after the other night. I’ll talk to her. Thanks, Ona.”

After hanging up, you stared at your phone, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You knew you needed to talk to Alexia, to clear up the misunderstanding. But a part of you also wondered, what did this mean for the two of you. If Alexia was bothered by you being seen with your ex that much surely that had to be a sign of something right. Before you let your head run too much with this, you got out of bed and joined you family for one of your final days before heading back to Barcelona.

Christmas Day passed quietly for Alexia, it was just her mother and sister with her in Dubai, which is all she really needed. It was a much-needed break from the whirlwind of her career, but her mind kept drifting back to you. The silver necklace with the wave pendant had become her constant companion since she found it in her bag and she hadn’t taken it off since she opened it mere minutes into Christmas Day.

She ran her fingers over the pendant absentmindedly as she prepared for the Globe Soccer Awards, where she would be picking up the Women’s Player of the Year award. It was an honour, something she had worked hard for, yet the excitement that usually accompanied such recognition felt muted by the unease sitting heavy in her chest.

Ever since she had seen that Instagram story of you and Leah, a knot of doubt had been tightening inside her. She kept replaying the image in her mind, how close you and Leah had seemed, how comfortable. It had been days since she’d seen it, but she hadn’t reached out to you. She wasn’t sure what to say. Ona’s message had reassured her slightly, but the doubt lingered. Especially as you also hadn’t reached out to her.

As she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the elegant outfit she had chosen for the awards, Alexia glanced down at the necklace resting against her skin. The wave, a symbol you had described so thoughtfully, felt heavier now. She knew what it meant, how much care and thought had gone into your gift, but that only made the misunderstanding hurt more. If you and Leah were rekindling things, where did that leave you and her?

Later that night, under the glittering lights of the awards ceremony, Alexia was announced as the Women's Player of the Year. The room erupted in applause as she made her way to the stage, graciously accepting the award with a quiet smile. She gave a heartfelt speech, thanking her teammates, coaches, and family for their constant support, but even as she spoke, her thoughts were elsewhere, on you.

The night continued in a blur of congratulations and photographs, but Alexia’s mind remained clouded. By the time she returned to her hotel room, the weight of the day had caught up with her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone buzzed with notifications, messages from friends, fans, and teammates congratulating her.

She opened Instagram, scrolling through the flood of posts from the ceremony. As she crafted her own post, thanking everyone for their support, she hesitated. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, and almost instinctively, she glanced down at the wave pendant resting against her chest. Without thinking too much, she typed a line from your note into part of the caption.

And finally Merry Christmas. Sometimes in life you need your wave to keep you steady, even when you don’t realise it.

It was a subtle nod to you, one that no one else would pick up on, but she knew you would.

Alexia posted the picture: a candid shot of her holding the award, smiling at the camera with her necklace peeking just slightly into view. That along with the end of the caption she hoped would be enough to show you what the gift and you meant to her. Well at least until the conversation could be had, if you wanted it still after the Christmas break.

Back in England, you scrolled through Instagram while waiting for your flight back to Spain. It had been a whirlwind few days, catching up with friends, clearing the air with Leah and now, you were finally heading back home. As you mindlessly flicked through your feed, Alexia’s post popped up.

You stopped, your breath catching in your throat as you read the caption. It was your words, changed slightly, but still the meaning you had written in the note attached to the necklace. The same words that carried all the meaning behind your gift, now reflected back at you in a public post for the world to see.

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, wondering what this meant. Did Alexia understand the depth of your message? Did she feel the same way? Or was this her way of saying goodbye before you’d even had a chance to explain?

Without thinking, you opened your messages and hesitated before typing a quick text to Ona.

Did Alexia say anything to you about that post?

Ona responded almost immediately, as if she had been waiting for you to reach out.

She didn’t mention it to me, but I know she’s been thinking about you. You should talk to her.

Your fingers hovered over your phone as you debated what to do next. The conversation with Leah had cleared the air, but now you were left with a different kind of uncertainty, one that involved Alexia and the feelings that had grown between you. And whether you were really ready for that again.

Taking a deep breath, you opened a new message to Alexia, your heart pounding as you typed.

Hey, I saw your post. I think we should talk when you get back.

The next few days passed slowly as Alexia remained in Dubai, the distance between you both growing heavier with every passing moment. The wave pendant rested against her chest, a constant reminder of you. And as Christmas turned into the new year, the tension between you both, fuelled by misunderstandings, unspoken feelings and lack of communication, remained unresolved, waiting for the moment when you could finally have the conversation that had been building for so long.

[supernovafics]

boyfriend!steve who loves recording everything

wc: 899

a/n: been thinking about this a lot a lot and finally got around to writing it

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and here we have my beautiful girlfriend who put this whole party together.”

you looked into the video camera for a brief second, drunkenly smiling into it before looking up at steve. “you’re having way too much fun with this thing already, birthday boy.”

“what? it’s actually a very cool gift.” you could tell steve was a little drunk too, but you didn’t think that would’ve changed how into the gift he was; the camera the kids pooled their money together to get for him. “say hi.”

“hi,” you said, smiling and looking right into the lens again, and then you playfully stuck your tongue out at it. 

“i love you,” steve said with a soft happy laugh. “so much.”

“i love you too. so, so much,” you told him and he leaned down to kiss you. 

“thank you again for doing this whole thing,” he mumbled against your lips. “best surprise ever.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “no need to thank me. you deserve it, best boyfriend ever.”

the camera was filming the wooden floor at this point, but it probably still picked up what you two were saying. 

you pulled away from steve after a second, knowing that the longer you two were wrapped up in one another, the more your friends would playfully make fun of the two of you.

“you should go film robin and nancy doing karaoke. i think that them drunkenly singing bohemian rhapsody needs to be documented.” 

steve nodded. “great idea.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

after that first night, it should’ve been obvious, but that camera became steve’s favorite thing. it almost made the new pair of nikes you’d gotten him look like the most boring gift ever, but you didn’t really mind it.  

it was always the most random moments that he wanted to record of you two. “for memories” was always his response when you asked why he wanted to record you two brushing your teeth in the morning or you two lying on the couch and watching a bad movie that he brought home from family video. 

or even in this moment when you two were cooking in the kitchen of your shared apartment.

you immediately gave him a look when you noticed him turn on the camera. “steve, you’re making it seem like we’re cooking something super elaborate. it’s just a grilled cheese.” 

“it’s still like a fun cooking show,” he said, smiling as he set the camera up on the counter, placing it on top of a stack of random containers. “what do you need, chef?”

there was no way of telling if either of you were actually in the frame— you had a feeling that at least your heads were cut off— but still, you decided to play along. he was acting too cute and adorable not to. 

“bread and cheese, chef,” you told him as you went to grab a pan from the cabinet below you. “oh, and butter too.”

“got it,” steve nodded and went over to the pantry and then the fridge, and then made a show of showing the camera all of the ingredients he grabbed. 

you couldn’t help but laugh a little as you watched him. you decided to play along further and follow suit as you did most of the actual cooking; making a point of showing the camera exactly what you were doing and even exaggeratingly explaining it too. 

and when you two were eating at your small kitchen table ten minutes later, you admitted to steve with a smile that he was right, and filming everything did make it feel like a “fun cooking show.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

and then there were the moments when you were the one to grab the camera and initiate the recording. it was seldom, but when you did do it, steve always got the happiest grin on his face. 

like, in this moment, when you were coming out of the bathroom and grabbing steve’s t-shirt that had been haphazardly tossed to the floor thirty minutes earlier and slipping it over your body. for no particular reason, other than you found yourself wanting to, you grabbed the camera off of steve’s nightstand and then slid into his lap, straddling him.

he was already smiling as you turned on the camera and the familiar red light came on when you pressed record. 

“say hi,” you told him, your own smile on your face as you pointed the camera at him. his messy hair from what you two had previously been doing was probably the cutest thing you’d ever seen and you made sure the camera saw it. 

he smiled wider. “hi.”

one of his hands found your bare thigh and you let out a contented hum in response. 

“y'know, i’m surprised you haven’t asked to film us yet,” you said softly. "us doing what we just did…”

his eyes widened a bit at your shy suggestion and you smiled wider, zooming in on his expression. “is that an option?”

you stopped recording him then and reached over to set the camera back down on the nightstand. 

“maybe,” you answered, shrugging innocently. “i think it could be kinda hot.”

steve shook his head. “not just kinda. very hot.”

you leaned down to kiss him then. it was slow and languid and steve’s hands immediately went to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.  

“very hot,” you hummed in agreement. 

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴀ ʟ ʟ ɪ ʜ ᴀ ᴠ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Show Aegon II Targaryen x Fem Reader

Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?

˚꒰notes꒱‧ English is not my first language. Gifs belong to @joekeerys. Hope you enjoy!

Aegon never wanted the throne, never wanted the responsibilities that came with it, but what he does want is you. From the moment you entered his life, everything changed. You’re the one thing that makes sense to him, the one thing that feels right. Aegon is a mess of conflicting desires, plagued by his trauma, but when it comes to you, his love is the only thing he’s sure of.

Aegon has never had anyone in his life who genuinely cared about him. His family is fractured, and he’s spent his whole life drowning in self-loathing. But when you show him the slightest bit of affection, it’s like a drug. He needs it, needs you. You’re his lifeline, the one person who can make him feel like he’s worth something.

He’s incredibly clingy. Every time he sees you, he’s either hanging off of you, resting his head on your shoulder, or playing with your hair. It’s as if he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment. His hands are always on you, in a way that’s both affectionate and a little too possessive.

“I can’t stand it when you’re away,” he’d murmur, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “Stay with me. Always stay with me.”

Aegon’s insecurities run deep, and that means he’s always on edge when it comes to other people. He’s constantly worried that someone will take you away from him, that you’ll realize you deserve better and leave him behind. His jealousy is all-consuming, and he has no problem making sure anyone who even looks at you the wrong way knows you belong to him.

If someone tries to get close to you, Aegon’s mood shifts instantly. His playful, drunken demeanor turns cold, his eyes narrowing as he watches every move they make around you. He doesn’t trust anyone—not your friends, not your family, and especially not his own family. In his mind, they’re all threats, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you to himself.

“No one will ever love you like I do,” he’d say, his voice low and serious. “You know that, don’t you?”

He needs to know everything about you—where you are, who you’re with, what you’re thinking. He’ll start off subtly, asking about your day, wanting to know every little detail. But soon, it becomes more than that. He wants to control every aspect of your life, making sure that you’re always with him, always safe, always his.

He’s the type to show up unannounced, drunk and demanding your attention, whether you want to give it or not. If you try to push him away, he’ll sulk, using his own pain and insecurities to guilt you into staying by his side. It’s manipulative, but in his twisted mind, he thinks he’s doing it out of love.

“You’re mine,” he’d whisper, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his breath hot against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”

Aegon knows he’s not the perfect prince (and later king). He’s flawed, broken, and he hates himself for it. But when it comes to you, he’ll use that brokenness to his advantage. Whenever you try to pull away, he’ll remind you of how much he needs you, how lost he’d be without you. He’s not afraid to play the victim, to make you feel like leaving him would be the cruelest thing in the world.

He’ll come to you late at night, drunk and miserable, talking about how everyone hates him, how he’s not good enough for you. His words are filled with self-pity, and he’ll cling to you, practically begging you to reassure him that you’ll stay.

“You’re the only one who cares about me,” he’d say, his voice cracking with desperation. “Don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t do this without you.”

For all his selfishness, Aegon genuinely believes he’s protecting you. The world is dangerous, full of people who would hurt you or take you from him. In his mind, he’s the only one who can keep you safe. He’ll go to any lengths to ensure that no one can harm you—not even your family or friends if he thinks they’re a threat.

He’ll isolate you if he has to, keeping you away from anyone who might try to come between you. He’ll even use his power as king to keep you locked away, safe in the Red Keep where no one can touch you. To him, it’s an act of love—protecting you from the dangers of the world.

“I’m doing this for you,” he’d say, his eyes wild with a mix of desperation and affection. “No one will hurt you if you’re with me. I’ll burn anyone who tries.”

Aegon’s love for you is twisted, born out of his own pain and insecurities, but it’s real. In his mind, you’re the only thing keeping him together. He’s broken, damaged by years of neglect and abuse, and you’re the only one who makes him feel whole. He’ll do anything to keep you by his side, even if it means crossing lines no one else would dare to cross.

He’s the kind of lover who would rather see you dead than let you leave him. If he can’t have you, then no one can. His love is suffocating, dangerous, and all-consuming. But in the end, he truly believes that he’s doing it all because he loves you.

“You don’t understand,” he’d say, tears in his eyes as he holds you close. “You’re all I have. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇ���

[paarksunghoon]

https://x.com/venusyearwood/status/1854732444768858540?s=46&t=NrxIrEbb07Ubj-rzdh7oCg THIS WITH JAY — im thinking softdom!jay, lots and lots of flirting and being handsy and making out, reader is on jay’s lap he’s buried in her neck leaving marks and she’s starting to unbutton his shirt and unconsciously grinding her hips, he can’t take it anymore and drags her home and breeds her all night

oh you’re speaking my language…I pictured a cocktail bar for this

***

It’s not that anyone is really paying attention to either of you in this place anyway. Jay’s got a hold on your thigh while the rest of your friends chatter amongst themselves with enough alcohol in their systems to forget their surroundings and anything but the conversation at hand.

It’s the first time in a long time that he’s got you like this—away from the stress of life and the hustle of working hours. He knows far too well what it means to be preoccupied with things that don’t matter and seeing you in a little black dress and those high heels you love wearing so much makes him hold onto you that much tighter.

He’s got his thumb rubbing against the skin of your thigh the entire night but it does nothing to quell the building arousal you feel as you pulsate beside him. You don’t even know if Jay is doing it on purpose but it garners a reaction out of you, and you find that you’re barely able to hold onto the cocktail glass as you listen to your friends talk and chime in every once in a while. Jay’s touch is enough to get you to a sensation that feels an awful lot like being drunk even if you aren’t.

“Having fun?” Jay whispers in your ear. You love when he leans his head down to whisper in your ear. It makes you feel like you’re the only person he sees.

“Yeah. I really missed going to places like these.”

“You look beautiful too, baby.” Jay squeezes your thigh and hums. “That dress…you look phenomenal.”

The heat from his compliment and alcohol makes your cheeks flush. You stutter when you respond to him. “Thank you.” He laughs under his breath and squeezes your thigh, hand lodged between them as if to keep you sitting right next to him. Not that you’d want to be anywhere else anyway. You squeeze him with your thigh subconsciously when his warm breath ghosts the shell of your ear.

Jay seems to like that. He squeezes you back. “Are you doing okay, baby?”

You nod. “Mhm. Just fine.”

“Really? You seem a little tense.”

“N-No. Not tense. I’m fine.”

He squeezes your thigh again. “Needy little thing.” Jay pushes his hand up your legs until you spread them far enough to seem inconspicuous. The tips of his fingers touch you where you need him the most and he bites back a moan when he feels just how wet you are. “Knew it.”

“Jay! Our friends are right in front of us.”

He doesn’t stop sliding his fingers against your covered folds. “And? They’re too busy paying attention to each other.” You clamp your legs shut and Jay nods, scouring the room until he finds a secluded, dark area with a partition that separates from the main room.

Jay stands up and holds his hand out for you. His muscular arm is concealed by the button down he wears and yet his muscles almost stretch the fabric until it’s taught. Your own arms cling onto his as you follow him through the maze of people and when you look back to your friends, they haven’t noticed you two have gone missing.

The partition hides away a single drink tray on top of a metal table opposite of a wooden bench. It’s secluded enough for your satisfaction and Jay turns around once the two of you are out of sight and cups your jaw with his hands when he kisses you like you’re a delicate glass he doesn’t want to break. His lips are so soft and plump and the way he’s rubbing your cheeks with his thumb makes you feel something akin to being on cloud nine. It doesn’t help that he looks like the pinnacle of sex once he pulls away, eyes looking down at you through his long lashes as he paces himself.

He sits down on the bench and beckons you over his lap. You don’t particular care that your dress has ridden up your body and pools midway up your ass. His large hands come to grip you from behind as you make yourself comfortable on him.

“Pretty baby,” he whispers in your ear as he peppers kisses down the column of your neck. The sensation makes your toes curl and you clutch at his chest for support. “I missed you this week. Felt like an eternity.”

“I-I missed you too.” You breathe it out much like a quiet moan. “Missed your lips.”

“Yeah?” Jay licks up your juncture before sucking on your jawline where it meets your earlobe. “What else did you miss?”

Your hands spread all across his chest and the hard muscle underneath makes you much wetter than you already are. The gentle touch of your fingers against his buttons makes him look up at you from where he is on your neck. He’s already got a few buttons undone but you’re craving to see more of him and unbutton another.

“Missed your body…”

Jay spreads his legs wider when he starts to feel your hips rolling against his slacks. You move so slowly that he doesn’t think you register what you’re doing, but the way your fingers spread open his button down makes him think you want more than he’s offering right now.

“Oh yeah? What part of my body.”

“Mouth, fingers, cock…”

You don’t look at him when you say it. You stare at his semi-exposed chest and continue to grind up against him. He’s so hard in his pants that he involuntarily pushes his hips up against you.

“I can tell.” Jay brings his hand to brush your bottom lip with his thumb and cradles your cheek when you finally look at him. “You’re so cute when you get needy.”

You push your covered lap down on his. “I can’t help it. You look so good tonight and I’m having a hard time keeping my hands to myself.”

“You’re one to talk, baby.”

In an abrupt motion, Jay hoists you off of his body and pulls the hem of your dress down to appear decent and does his best to adjust his aching dick to look presentable. You whine beside him but Jay merely grips your ass as he silences to with a kiss.

“Be good for me, yeah?”

“But I need you.”

“I need you too, baby. Let me take you home. I’ll come inside you as many times as you want.”

[ilyrafe]

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: none :)

word count: 1k

part one

taglist: @starkeyvhs @toterry @httpsdrewstarkey @gillybear17 @baby19sthings @zya8tracks

a/n: this is such a shitty chapter but please bear with me i had such a terrible creative block!!! god i hate it here

a stroke of luck.

when joshua was found, both rafe and y/n were far. well, rafe wasn’t that far, but she had really disappeared. the next day, rafe still wanted to send a message to her and let her know that everything was done, but that number didn’t exist anymore.

as a precaution, rafe was always around, wanting to know if there was any suspicion about joshua’s death, but apparently, everyone there knew that he was “a time bomb about to explode”. the neighbors saw y/n leaving with all of her belongings, so they assumed that he couldn’t take it and took his own life.

“i knew one of them would end up dead,” an older woman told a friend, and rafe paid attention. “and i prayed it wouldn’t be her, because she was a good person. he would get drunk and when she would say she’d leave, he’d threaten to kill her and then himself. i’ve heard their arguments!”

in the end, y/n received a good amount of life insurance for still being legally married to him. good for her.

and life went on, as it would. as it should.

rafe continued his infamous business of killing for money, and whenever someone contacted him, he was disappointed that it wasn’t her. as much as he didn’t want to admit, he always caught himself thinking about her and wondering how she was doing, if she was okay.

rafe has seen grotesque scenes that no longer bother him, but imagining joshua putting his dirty hands around her neck, or scaring her makes his blood boil, because he’s done it before with his own sister, and that’s his biggest regret. if there’s a heaven and a hell, rafe knows very well where he’s going, and he’s already come to terms with it, but one thing he’ll never do again in his life is to be violent towards another woman - any woman.

even a hitman needs to have some morals.

the fear in sarah’s eyes still disturbs him. when he goes to sleep, that’s all he dreams of. he relives the moment all night long, and then he drinks to forget it, but it doesn’t help - the image of him nearly killing his own blood is too much.

when he remembers that day at the diner, he can’t get the image of her out of his head - she looked so small, so defeated. deep down, rafe knows all of the answers to the questions he asks himself. he’s smarter than he gives himself credit for.

(...)

the life of a hitman can actually be very lonely, something rafe still struggles to deal with. every once in a while he goes for a walk in the park when his mind is going places he doesn’t want to go.

an autumn afternoon in chicago is like a scene from a painting, where nature’s colors are in their full, fiery splendor. as he steps outside, the air is crisp but not too cold, just enough to warrant a light jacket, with the occasional breeze that carries the earthy scent of fallen leaves. the city’s famous skyline stretches against a sky that shifts between deep blue and soft gray, as the sun begins its descent, casting golden light over everything.

he’s trying so hard to see beauty in things, to keep himself afloat. rafe is numb. not even the hardest drug can make him feel anything. sometimes he does admire the nature around him, and to see the blue of the sky, in its immensity, makes him realize that, in a good way, none of this is real. none of this means anything.

we are all just cells, wandering around.

the sounds of the city seem a little softer in the fall, as people slow down to take in the beauty around them. a gentle hum of traffic can be heard in the distance, while the occasional laughter of children playing outside or the sound of a distant train passing through the city adds to the ambiance.

rafe has always had a soft spot for children. well, not exactly children, but what they represent. a kind of purity that seems untouched by the complexities and burdens of the adult world. it’s in the way they see the world with wide-eyed wonder, where everything is new and full of possibility. their joy is spontaneous, like a burst of laughter that rings out without reason, simply because they are in the moment. their innocence is also in their ability to feel deeply, yet let go just as easily. they live in the present, their hearts and minds unburdened by the weight of regret or worry. oh, and their unwavering belief in the goodness of the world. that sense of trust in the world, in people, in their own ability to be loved and to love in return, is a beautiful, fragile thing, one that people often lose or forget as they grow older (rafe knows it better than anyone else), but can still glimpse in the eyes of a child.

he would give anything to feel that way again.

whenever he remembers his childhood, rafe feels a sense of regret, an overwhelming desire to find a way to go back in time. oh, if only he could. be a child with no real worries. run through the freshly mowed grass, stumble and fall, and be comforted by his mother.

perhaps his luck has run out. he’s managed to leave a life of crime behind and come out of it mostly unscathed, he can’t just think that he can expect to find love - any type of love - in the same lifetime.

while walking through the park, rafe notices a young woman sitting on the grass, enjoying an ice cream. she seems carefree, just in the moment, observing everything around her. as he walks, he manages to get closer to her and... oh my god.

it’s her.

it’s her.

with each step taken towards her, rafe feels his heart beat faster. a mix of anxiety and excitement for finally having found her, after a year.

he stops right next to her, with his hands on the front pockets of his jacket, and waits until she notices his presence. when she does, she looks up, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“hi.”

“oh, my god. cameron?!”

i'd love to know your thoughts!!!

[fae-of-prey]

ugh ethan my loveliest pussy worshipping puppy beloved!!!

him always kissing you through your panties to greet her like the sweet boyfriend he is is literally so dreamy 😵‍💫 esp bc you just know he gets carried away like a pussy drunk little animal soo quickly & it just devolves into making out with your cunt for the sloppiest head through your panties bc he still hasn’t even taken them off yet

also the bit about not standing a chance against his strength if you try to remove his hand from between your legs bc nothing will stop him if he’s not finished with you ABSOLUTELY 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ esp with the idea of his hand on your tummy pinning you down i’m drooling bc omg i neeed this cnc with ethan 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

BUT OMG ETHAN CUMMING IN HIS PANTS FROM EATING YOU OUT IS LITERALLY SOMETHING SO PERSONAL TO ME like giving you pleasure is truly for his pleasure but also cumming untouched / premature ejac is literally just so desperately hot 😵‍💫 (my headcanon has always been that eth cums really easily / quickly but his stamina is just through the roof insane like he can go round after round after round, & i’ve always said this!!!) + MULTIPLE TIMES TOO??? fuck he’s so desperate n pathetic i need that nerd carnally + the way he feels so proud of giving you so much pleasure ugh i love that dork<333

i also just adore the idea of his hair being a little sensitive like that’s just so cute but esp bc it makes him whine / moan / grunt vibrations into you (he’s literally so vocal like that is a man who whimpers) 😵‍💫

+ that whole last paragraph is literally incredible i’m obsessed!!!

if requests are open… i beg of you, the ethan writer…. to please write something about ethan being a certified munch… like you can’t tell me he doesn’t eat pussy for a SPORT. sure he’d love you to sit on his face but… i can just imagine him folding your knees up into your chest so he can have full access to you

A/N : Hii ! <3 I loooove your request so much, it just SCREAMS Ethan Landry to me, this man would happily die between your legs if it means he can eat your pussy for hours and make you cum multiple times !! 🤤🖤 Please tell me if I did justice to your request and you know where to find me if you want other Ethan’s fics 😘✨

Ethan Landry lives for eating you out as he loves giving the sweetest pleasure to your pussy…or is it his ?

❦ Even though Ethan Landry is inexperienced when he first starts eating you out, your boyfriend would improve so quickly because of two simple reasons. First, because Ethan wants to do things right and would absolutely listen to your advice when he asks you what feels good or not, taking mental notes of which spot makes you moan the loudest and which pace makes you cum the fastest. Secondly, because Ethan wants - need - to eat you out so frequently that he, anyway, grew to be very good at it.

❦ Ethan would definitely leave hickeys on your inner thighs before he even touches you pussy, his head nicely snuggled between your thighs as he nips, bites, licks and kisses your skin that will show his marks, only for him to know who you really belong to.

❦ He would then press his fingers on your pussy, his thumb rubbing on your clit through the pretty lace material of your panties that he offered you a few days ago, teasing you as Ethan feels the wetness dampen the fabric underneath his fingertips and proudly smiles when he realizes that he can work you up this nicely by barely touching you.

❦ Ethan would also always, and I say always, kiss your pussy through your panties before starting to eat you out, almost like he’s greeting your little cunny like the sweet boyfriend he is.

❦ This man could die between your thighs and he would be the happiest man ever. He would literally overstimulate your pussy for hours because Ethan cannot even realize how long he’s been giving you pleasure and he doesn’t care, he just wants you to feel good and…Ethan also gets excited just by eating you out.

❦ In fact, Ethan would get so painfully hard from pleasing you only with his mouth that he would start humping the bed to get some relief, cumming in his pants a few times seeing how much he’s desperate for you, and only you, making his head spin with pleasure.

❦ I also believe that Ethan’s hair is quite sensitive and with how much you would be pulling on his curly strands when he gives you orgasm one after the other, Ethan would whine, moan and grunt so much against your pussy, creating the most delicious vibrations against your sensitive clit.

❦ If you try to remove his head from your pussy (and if it’s still consensual of course), you won’t have any chance against his strength, his head won’t budge away from you. Nothing will stop Ethan if he isn’t finished with you yet and he will pin you down with his free hand by pressing against your tummy if he has to.

❦ Ethan will also bite your thighs if you contain your sounds of pleasure, he doesn’t want that and absolutely won’t let you do it. Ethan relishes in the way you so beautifully moan his name, whine in a pitched tone when you’re close to your climax and when you softly tell Ethan that you love him between soft whimpers after he overstimulated you.

❦ If he eats you out from behind or when you sit on his face, Ethan makes sure to grab handfuls of your ass while your thighs tremble and shake under his sweet indecent ministrations.

❦ Hell, this man would even eat you out at school between classes when Ethan really can’t wait to have you alone for himself. Ethan would take you to the restroom and press you against the wall as he kneels before going down on you. His head would be snuggled between your thighs as you look down to find his filthy gaze not leaving yours until he can hear you moan his name while you cream on his tongue. It simply feels like heaven to Ethan.

❦ Your boyfriend will even eat you out just to get rid of his stress, as Ethan paws at your skirt and then sliding his hand underneath it to caress the lace of your panties, after you both came back home from a long tiring day. « Please baby… I’m stressed, just need to eat you out real quick… I’ll be good… Can I ? », Ethan pleads you as he nuzzles your pulsating neck with his cold nose, pressing encouraging kisses there.

❦ Ethan feels immensely proud about giving you such pleasure only with his mouth and to hear those sweet sounds of yours mixed with little cries of his name, it all sounds like the most perfect music to his ears. After a session where your boyfriend knows that he did a particularly good job at making you feel good just by seeing the blush on your face, Ethan would silently look at you with a smug smile like the nerd he is.

❦ Ethan would make eye contact with you when he knows you’re close to reaching your climax. His eyes being half lidded white how pussy drunk he is.

❦ If you squirt while he eats you out, Ethan will feel so proud that he won’t ever shut up about it as he gently encourages you to do it again for him.

❦ After giving you so many orgasms with his mouth, a long session that leaves your pussy sensitive and puffy because of his lips, Ethan would so gently and softly kitten licks your pretty cunt and press little kisses on your clit, like the sweet boyfriend he is.

❦ While going down on you and after taking care of you, Ethan would praise you so much as he leaves kisses all over your face and pampers you with lovely words that he reserves only for you, his perfect girlfriend, « You did so well for me, angel. »

❦ Well, Ethan worships your pussy if that wasn’t clear enough.

❦ But what Ethan favors to do the most is folding your knees up into your chest so he can have full access to you and literally do whatever he wants to your pussy. Ethan would sometimes add two of his fingers when he wants to give you even more pleasure while sucking on your clit, twirling his tongue around it and lapping at your folds like the sweet puppy he is as he tries his best to tongue fuck you.

❦ When Ethan’s finished with you, as you’re so overstimulated that your legs go limp when he releases them, barely able to feel your legs anymore seeing how much strength your boyfriend applied on them. Some marks already start forming as Ethan apologetically presses kisses on your bruised skin, his face now covered in your juices as his mouth glistens. Ethan would give you the sloppiest kiss ever to make you taste yourself on his tongue, as he whines in your mouth at the feeling of having done a good job at making you feel good. During this kind of kiss, Ethan feels restless as he uncontrollably paws at your chest and holds your face to deepen the kiss, as he rubs his still hard-on against your pussy. His pants dampened with his cum after cumming in his pants so many times, feels sticky on your skin while he humps himself on your poor overstimulated and swollen clit. Yet, Ethan will never forget aftercare as he cleans you up like his dear little princess before cuddling you. Ethan is the loveliest puppy as he holds you tight in his arms, moving you closer to his body before he gets sleepy and rests his head on your shoulder, snoring lightly in your ear while he nuzzles against your face.

💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗

[rylem33]

Learning How a Woman Should Be Treated

Dan sat in the center of his group, his voice already slurred as he waved his beer bottle around to emphasize whatever nonsense he was spinning at the moment. His friends Travis, Keith, and Benny leaned in, laughing, egging him on, and taking turns sharing in his crude jokes and boisterous energy. 

“So, I’m tellin’ ya,” he slurred, as he spotted a tall, stunning woman across the bar. She had her back to them, chatting with another guy. “That right there? That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” He jabbed his beer bottle toward her, a grin creeping onto his face. “Classy on the outside, but you know there’s always more underneath.”

Benny nudged him. “Bro, go talk to her. Show her who’s boss.”

Dan chuckled, not needing much of a push. “Watch and learn, boys.”

He sauntered over, putting on what he probably thought was an irresistible grin, and slipped up beside her. “Hey there,” he said, his voice dripping with exaggerated charm. “Mind if I buy you a drink? Or are you one of those who doesn’t know how to have a good time?”

The woman turned, her expression polite but clearly unamused. “Thanks, but I’m good,” she replied, her voice smooth and dismissive.

“Oh, come on,” he pressed, leaning closer. “Just one drink. Loosen up a little, yeah?”

She shook her head with a small, tolerant smile. “I appreciate it, but I’m not interested.”

The rejection stung more than it should have, and Dan’s smile faltered. He leaned in further, lowering his voice. “Don’t have to play hard-to-get. You and me. One drink, and I’ll show you a good time.”

Something in her gaze shifted. She looked him up and down with a look that made his stomach turn. Her lips curved into a slight smirk, and she lifted a hand, gesturing lightly toward his forehead, her fingers trailing just close enough that he felt a faint tingle. Dan blinked, feeling a strange haze settle over him.

When he opened his eyes again, she was gone. He stumbled back to his friends, muttering, “Whatever. Stuck-up… couldn’t handle me.”

Keith snickered. “She blew you off, didn’t she?”

Dan rolled his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “Forget her. I don’t need someone like that.”

But he felt a strange heaviness set in, like he’d been drained. He shook it off, plastering on his cocky smile again as he raised his glass. “Let’s get another round. I’ll take care of it,” he said.

It wasn’t long before Dan felt his vision blurring. At some point, he remembered the guys slapping his back, shouting that they’d see him tomorrow, and then… his living room. His couch looked comfy.  He threw off his shirt and pants and passed out.. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dan groaned, his head pulsing in sync with his heartbeat, the taste of stale beer still on his tongue. Blinking against the daylight flooding his living room, he sat up slowly, feeling oddly… off. Every movement made his stomach churn, but he forced himself up, stumbling towards the bathroom.

Reaching down to steady himself and relieve his bladder, his hand met… nothing.

“What the…” His eyes snapped open, adrenaline cutting through the haze of his hangover. Where there should have been a familiar presence, his hand found only smooth skin. Frantically, he stared down at himself, barely processing what he saw. Soft curves, bare skin that felt unfamiliar and wrong. His mind raced, but he struggled to put together any coherent thought other than a primal, all-consuming no.

He staggered to the mirror, heart hammering as he took in his reflection. Wide eyes, high cheekbones, soft, disheveled blonde hair. None of it was his. Yet somehow, it all was.

Dan stumbled back, his hand flying to his mouth. This has to be a nightmare. Maybe I’m still drunk… or hallucinating… or something.

But his pounding headache reminded him of the very real hangover he was enduring. He reached up, running his hands over his face, feeling the unfamiliar softness of his skin, the strange shape of his jaw. Each touch confirmed the terrifying reality: his body was undeniably, unmistakably female.

“Oh… oh god,” he whispered, his voice soft, higher-pitched than he’d ever heard it, even in his worst moments of mockery. Panic began to claw its way through his confusion, making his heart race. “What happened last night?

Dan’s fingers shook as he picked up his phone, his heart racing as he waited for the call to connect. It picked up, and he heard Keith’s groggy voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Keith, you have to come over right now,” Dan said, his voice coming out in a soft, almost lilty tone that made him cringe. It sounded nothing like him.

There was a pause. “…Uh, who is this?”

Dan closed his eyes, trying to keep his cool. “It’s me, dude! It’s Dan!”

Keith snorted. “Very funny. Who put you up to this? Is this, like, a prank or something?”

“No! Keith, it’s actually me!” Dan insisted, frustration creeping into his voice. “I know it sounds insane, but I woke up… I woke up as… as a girl.” He could hardly bring himself to say it out loud, but the words tumbled out before he could stop them.

Keith burst out laughing. “Yeah, sure, Dan. Nice try. You sound nothing like him.”

Dan gritted his teeth. “Keith, I swear, if you don’t get over here right now, I’m going to—” He stopped, realizing that the threat sounded ridiculous in his new voice. “Please, just trust me! I know I don’t sound like myself, but it’s really me. I need your help.”

Keith chuckled again, clearly unconvinced. “Okay, whoever you are, you’re not even close to sounding like Dan. Dan’s not gonna say he needs help, let alone beg for it.”

Dan sighed, his tone slipping to something softer, almost pleading without him meaning to. “Keith, please. I’m freaking out over here, and I don’t know who else to call. Just, like… just come over, alright? I really need you.” His voice sounded more desperate with each word, and Dan could hardly believe how helpless he sounded.

Keith’s laughter faded a bit. “…Wait, are you actually serious?”

“Yes! Please just come over. I’m… I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m really scared.” The words came out softer than he intended, almost like a whisper, and Dan felt his face flush.

There was a long pause, and then finally, Keith sighed. “Alright, fine. I don’t know what kind of weird prank this is, but I’m coming over. Just… don’t go anywhere.”

Dan let out a shaky breath, relief flooding him. “Thank you. I’ll be here… I just… need someone to help me figure this out.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dan paced around his living room, his thoughts racing. He’d pulled on a loose white t-shirt and some black joggers, doing his best to ignore the unsettling fit of the clothes against his new frame. Every time he moved, he could feel how different his body was, but he tried to shake it off.

When the knock at the door finally came, he almost sprinted to open it. Keith was standing there, looking around, clearly confused. But as his eyes landed on Dan, his expression shifted to one of shock and then suspicion.

“Uh… who are you?” Keith asked, squinting. “Where’s Dan?”

Dan sighed, exasperated. “Keith, it’s me. I told you, I woke up like this.” He gestured to himself, trying not to cringe as he looked down at his small, delicate hands. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m Dan!”

Keith laughed, shaking his head. “Nice try. Dan must’ve put you up to this, right? Good one. But there’s no way you’re him.”

Dan crossed his arms, feeling his frustration boil over. “Keith, remember that time in college you got so hammered you tried to wrestle a statue and had to be carried back to the dorms by security? Who else would know that?”

Keith’s laughter faltered. “…Okay, that’s… kind of specific.”

“And who helped you hide that weird collection of swords from your mom when she came over last month?” Dan pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Keith’s eyes widened, his confidence wavering. “Alright, alright. Stop. You’re starting to freak me out.” He took a step back, eyeing Dan as if seeing him for the first time. “Are you… are you actually Dan?”

“Yes!” Dan said, exasperated. “Do you think I’d go through all this trouble for a joke?”

Keith rubbed his face, looking completely thrown. “Alright… so you’re… a girl now?” He took in the sight of Dan’s clothes hanging awkwardly on his slender frame. “Dude, what happened to you?”

“I don’t know!” Dan threw his hands up, pacing again. “I went out, had way too much to drink, and I woke up like this. I don’t remember anything weird happening, but here I am!”

They sat down, trying to brainstorm any possible explanation. They talked about curses, bad dreams, even some weird science experiment gone wrong. But every idea seemed more ridiculous than the last, and Dan could feel his patience wearing thin.

“Man, this is pointless,” Dan groaned, grabbing his controller. “Let’s just play some games until my head stops spinning, okay?”

Keith, still a little dazed, picked up his own controller. “Uh, yeah… sure.”

But as the game started, Dan realized something was wrong. Usually, he could wipe the floor with Keith. But now, his reflexes felt off, his focus scattered. Keith won round after round, a smug grin spreading across his face. As they played, he found himself biting his lower lip, a habit he’d never had before.

“Ugh, not fair,” he whined, tossing his controller down in frustration. He jumped to his feet, scowling. “I swear, I’m just off today or something…”

Keith stared, slack-jawed, and Dan looked down, realizing with horror that his clothes had somehow transformed. Gone was his t-shirt and joggers. Instead, he was wearing a tight white crop top that hugged his chest, paired with low-waisted black pants that hung suggestively on his hips, accentuating the curves he’d been trying to ignore.

“Wha—how did this…?” Dan trailed off, his face burning as he looked up at Keith’s stunned expression.

Keith cleared his throat, awkwardly glancing away. “Dude, I think this… girl thing might be affecting you more than you thought.

Dan stared down at his new outfit, a mix of anger and embarrassment bubbling up inside him. His hands instinctively moved to cover his midriff, and he tugged at the crop top, as if trying to stretch it down to cover more skin. It was a useless effort, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and weirdly self-conscious. His hands kept fidgeting, smoothing down the waistband of his pants, his fingers brushing his flat, toned stomach.

Keith was watching him, concerned. “Uh… dude, you good?”

Dan shot him an annoyed look, feeling his cheeks warm. “Obviously not! This is…” He paused, catching himself. “…like, so messed up!” The words slipped out, sounding wrong, almost… whiny. He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the strange tone. “I mean… whatever.”

Keith glanced over, trying not to laugh. “Uh… Dan, are you… pouting right now?”

Dan crossed his arms tightly over his chest, huffing softly as he shot Keith a glare. “I don’t know, Keith,” he said, almost snapping. “Maybe if you were actually helping instead of just making fun of me.”

Keith bit his lip, clearly trying to hold back laughter. “Alright, alright, I’ll be serious,” he said, holding back a chuckle. But he still couldn’t stop looking at Dan with a mix of amazement and disbelief.

Dan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hand on his hip without even thinking about it, his fingers drumming on his thigh. “This is, like… so stressful,” he mumbled, feeling the urge to just… stomp his foot in frustration. Instead, he let out a dramatic sigh, looking up at Keith with wide, pleading eyes. “Can we just… I dunno, do something about this?”

Keith gave him a long look, trying to stay serious but obviously struggling. “Sure… let’s think. But maybe put on some new clothes first?”

Dan nodded, brushing his hair out of his face with a little flick of his wrist. “Thank you,” he said.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dan rummaged through his closet, looking for anything that might make him feel more like himself. The reflection staring back at him was undeniably feminine, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. The blonde hair, the delicate features. It was all so wrong.

Finally, he pulled out a white dress shirt, a pair of black dress pants, and a tie. This’ll work. At least I’ll look masculine, he thought, pulling on the clothes as quickly as possible.

Dan stormed back into the living room. The oversized dress shirt hung loosely off his shoulders, the tie knotted clumsily around his neck, and the dress pants were baggy, practically falling down his hips. He had to roll the sleeves up several times to even see his hands. He looked ridiculous, but at least he was covered.

Keith raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Uh, dude, that’s a… look.”

Dan slumped onto the couch, crossing his legs instinctively and tugging at the dress shirt in a futile attempt to make it fit better. “Whatever, okay?” he huffed, tapping his nails impatiently on the table. “This is, like, the best I could do.” He didn’t notice the way he was flicking his wrist with each tap, nails clicking in an almost rhythmic, absent-minded pattern.

As they started brainstorming again, Dan’s words started slipping, getting breathier and a little… slower. “So, like, maybe I just… I dunno… wished too hard to be, like, someone hotter or something?” His eyes drifted as he spoke, and his gaze turned up toward Keith with an innocent, slightly confused expression.

Keith watched, biting his lip as he saw the outfit Dan had put on begin to shift in real time. The baggy dress pants started to shrink, the material pulling tight against Dan’s hips and then sliding upward, reforming into a dangerously short, red plaid skirt. The waistband hugged his slender waist, and the skirt barely covered him, flaring out flirtatiously over his thighs.

At the same time, the dress shirt shifted as well, the fabric drawing tighter across his chest, pulling up and up until it barely hung on his shoulders. It transformed into a cropped, sheer white blouse with puffy sleeves, and the front tied itself into a neat little knot just below his bust. The tie stayed in place but had shrunk as well, forming a slim, playful accessory that hung loosely around his neck, adding to the look’s provocative vibe.

Dan blinked, still talking, oblivious to the changes. “And, like, ugh, why does everything feel so complicated right now?” His fingers continued to tap on the table, this time with a new purpose, his painted nails clinking rhythmically against the wood. “Maybe… maybe I just need to, like, take a selfie or something to see what’s really going on?” he suggested, twirling a lock of his blonde hair absentmindedly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Keith stared, almost speechless. “Dan, um… dude… do you not see what you’re wearing right now?”

Dan glanced down, his lips parting as he took in the new outfit. “Wait, what?” He paused, tugging at the tiny skirt, his eyes wide with a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Oh my god, how did this even… like, happen?” He didn’t seem to notice that his tone had slipped from anger to a kind of dazed curiosity, almost as if he were more fascinated than alarmed.

He tugged on the sheer blouse, pressing his hands to his waist, giving a little pout without realizing it. “This is, like, so embarrassing,” he murmured, casting a pleading look at Keith, his wide eyes soft and almost innocent. “Can’t we just… like, figure this out? I feel, like, super weird right now.”

Keith cleared his throat, trying to pull his focus back. “Yeah… we’ll, uh, figure it out. But maybe… stop messing with your hair?”

Dan sat there, fidgeting with the hem of his skirt, mind spinning. His eyes drifted to Keith, who was sitting across from him, looking concerned and focused. Dan found himself staring, his thoughts going fuzzy. He’s being so nice, he thought, a strange warmth bubbling up inside him. And he’s… kinda cute.

“Uh… Dan?” Keith’s voice jolted him back, and Dan blinked, realizing he’d been leaning in, staring at him.

Dan blinked, his hand frozen mid-twirl. “Oh! Sorry,” he giggled, his cheeks flushing pink. 

Keith gave him a puzzled smile. “This is all so crazy.  Are you alright?”

Dan fiddled with a strand of his blonde hair, glancing down with a shy smile. “I’m fine. Just… thanks for helping me out. You’re, like… a really sweet friend.”

Keith chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, yeah… anytime, man.”

“So… like, what were we talking about again?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keith took that as a cue.  He made a decision. “Alright, I think I’ll head over to the bar, see if anyone remembers anything weird from last night. Maybe someone saw what happened to you.”

Dan’s face lit up. “Oh my gosh, Keith, that would be, like, so helpful!” Without thinking, he jumped up and threw his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He could feel the warmth of Keith’s body, the solidness of his chest, and he found himself snuggling in, letting out a soft sigh. “Thank you so much!”

Keith froze, his face turning a little pink as he felt Dan’s soft form pressing against him, and the faint scent of whatever that Dan’s new form seemed to carry. He shifted, feeling confused and… unexpectedly warm himself. This is Dan, he reminded himself, but it was hard to ignore how close Dan was, or the way his body felt in the skimpy outfit.

“Uh, yeah, no problem…” he managed, awkwardly patting Dan’s back. He pulled back, but not before he caught Dan’s wide, grateful smile up close, which sent another confusing jolt through him. Man, my friend is… weirdly hot.

Dan let go, still smiling. “Good luck, Keith! I’ll be, like, here if you need me.” He gave him a little wave, eyes bright with gratitude.

Keith swallowed, giving a stiff nod as he headed toward the door, trying to shake off the strange feelings he was having.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keith entered the bar. It was early and the place was mostly empty, with the faint sounds of glasses clinking and the bartender prepping for the night. He recognized the guy behind the counter as the same bartender from the night before. Keith took a deep breath, trying to piece together what he was going to say. There’s no easy way to explain this, he thought, deciding to just rip the bandaid off.

He walked up to the bar and cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, I was here last night with my buddy Dan… and, um… something weird happened to him.” Keith pulled out his phone and showed the bartender a recent picture of Dan in his usual guy form, his eyes silently pleading not to sound insane.

The bartender glanced at the photo, then smirked, stifling a laugh. “Okay, let me guess, something happened, and now he’s not looking… quite like himself?”

Keith’s eyes widened. “Yeah! Exactly! You know about this?”

The bartender shrugged, polishing a glass with a knowing smile. “Depends. Tell me, does your friend Dan treat women with respect?”

Keith winced, feeling his face go hot. “Uh… well, I mean… Dan can be… a little rough around the edges. He can act like a jerk sometimes, especially after a few drinks.”

The bartender snorted. “Yeah, that tracks. Look, Lily’s got a bit of a… reputation around here. Most guys don’t get more than a cold shoulder or maybe a scathing look if they act out of line. But every now and then, a special kind of asshole catches her attention. And, well… she has a way of giving them a lesson they’ll never forget.”

Keith swallowed, nodding slowly. “So… you’re saying Dan somehow… triggered this? And she… did this to him?”

The bartender’s grin widened. “Seems that way. Lily doesn’t like it when men act like jerks, but when she decides someone deserves a little extra treatment…” He trailed off, shrugging. “Well, you’ve seen the result.”

Keith rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down in embarrassment. “Is there… any way to reverse it? I mean, Dan’s kind of freaking out.”

The bartender shook his head. “Can’t say I know the details. But Lily usually swings by here most nights. If you want answers, she’s the one to ask.”

Keith nodded, his determination hardening. “Alright. Thanks. I’ll come back later and see if I can catch her.”

The bartender raised his glass in a little salute. “Good luck with that, man. And, uh, maybe let Dan know, if he ever goes back to normal, he might want to rethink the way he talks to women.”

Keith left, feeling a mix of relief and worry. He had a plan, but he also knew that if Lily really did have some kind of… power, he’d have to approach this carefully.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keith knocked on the door, calling out, “Dan? You in there?” When he didn’t get a response, he pushed the door open, stepping inside.

“Dan?” he called, his voice echoing in the quiet apartment. As he turned the corner, his eyes widened, stopping dead in his tracks. There, in the doorway to the bedroom, was a knockout standing in a skimpy lace bra, matching thong, and thigh-high stockings. Dan leaned casually against the door frame, a soft, dreamy expression on his face.

“Oh my gosh, Keith!” Dan squealed, breaking into a bright smile. “Like, thank god you’re back. I keep putting on clothes, but, like, everything just turns into this!” He gestured down at himself, his hands brushing over the lace outfit. “And… and, like, I’m all… I dunno, weirdly turned on or something, and I don’t even know what to do!” He giggled, sounding flustered yet amused, his fingers playing with a strand of his blonde hair.

Keith’s mouth went dry, his brain struggling to process the scene in front of him. “Uh… Dan… you’re… you’re saying you still can’t put on normal clothes?”

Dan pouted, looking helpless. “I’m trying, okay? But everything turns all… sexy on me.” He leaned closer, batting his lashes as he looked up at Keith with wide, innocent eyes. “And now I’m, like… super, super horny, and I don’t even know why! Do you, like, have any idea how I can, um, fix it?”

Keith’s face flushed as he looked away, trying to gather himself. “Uh… Dan, maybe… maybe it’s just… part of this curse or whatever?” he stammered, avoiding eye contact as best as he could.

Dan sighed, stepping even closer, his voice soft and pleading. “Keith, this is, like, driving me crazy. Can’t you just… help me figure out what to do?” He placed a hand gently on Keith’s arm, looking up at him with a needy expression.

Keith cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably as he struggled to keep his thoughts straight. “Let’s… let’s just focus on finding Lily, alright? Maybe she’ll know how to break this… um, spell or whatever.”

Dan pouted but nodded, crossing his arms in a way that only emphasized his figure. “Fine,” he said, his voice dropping into a sweet, breathy tone. “But, like, hurry, okay? ‘Cause I don’t know how much longer I can, like, hold out.” He gave Keith a little wink, leaving him both flustered and determined to figure out a way to help his friend.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keith drove with white knuckles on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep his focus on the road. Dan, sitting beside him in the passenger seat, was lounging back with a lazy, dreamy smile on his face, absently stroking his exposed thigh. The little black dress Dan wore was the most modest outcome of several attempts at getting dressed.  Every now and then, he’d let out a sigh, casting a sultry glance Keith’s way.

Keith pushed open the door to the bar, glancing around as Dan stepped in beside him, practically clinging to his arm. Keith tried to ignore the way Dan looked now. The dress clung to him like a second skin, showing off a scandalously high hemline that accentuated his long, toned legs, which ended in a pair of strappy black heels.

Dan teetered on his heels, leaning closer to Keith, his glossy lips curving into a flirtatious smile. “Ooh, this place is, like, so cute!” he giggled, batting his lashes. He let out a soft sigh, pressing his chest against Keith’s arm in a way that made Keith feel all kinds of uncomfortable. “Keith, you’re, like, such a good friend for helping me with all this. I dunno what I’d do without you,” Dan purred, gazing up at him with wide, doe-like eyes.

Keith swallowed, trying to keep his gaze anywhere but on Dan. “Uh, yeah, no problem,” he mumbled, steering them both toward the bar. Just get through this, he told himself, find Lily, and get this fixed.

Dan looked around the dim bar, his gaze lingering on a few patrons who were openly staring at him. He didn’t seem bothered by it. In fact, he looked almost pleased. He tossed his hair over his shoulder, letting out a breathy giggle, and leaned even closer to Keith. “Gosh, it’s, like, really warm in here, don’t you think?” he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing over Keith’s arm. “Do you think… people are, like, looking at me?” He whispered the last part, sounding both surprised and a little thrilled.

Keith clenched his jaw, doing his best to ignore the attention Dan was attracting. “Yeah, maybe a little,” he muttered, glancing away. “Just… focus, alright?”

Dan pouted, poking his bottom lip out and giving Keith a look that was both petulant and oddly seductive. “But, like, it’s so hard to focus right now,” he whined softly, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of his dress, almost as if he were teasing himself or maybe even Keith. “I just feel, like, so weird, you know? Like… tingly.” He gave Keith a pointed look, a small, playful smile on his lips.

Keith fought to keep his composure, working very hard to ignore the nipples poking out prominently in Dan’s dress and instead focusing on scanning the bar. But Dan wasn’t making it easy, especially when he let out a soft, dreamy sigh, his fingers tracing up Keith’s arm again.

“Keith… do you think I’m… like… pretty?” Dan asked, his voice low and sultry, his eyes sparkling. He leaned in closer, his lips just inches from Keith’s ear. “I don’t know why, but, like, I keep feeling all… distracted around you.”

Keith cleared his throat, pulling back just enough to create a little space between them. “Dan, this is really not the time, alright?” he muttered, struggling to keep his tone steady.

Dan just giggled, clearly unfazed, and gave him a playful nudge. “You’re, like, so serious. Lighten up!” He tilted his head, pouting adorably. “Can’t we just, like… have a little fun?”

Keith’s eyes continued to scan the room until he spotted the bartender, who was watching them with raised eyebrows. His gaze flicked from Dan, clinging to Keith’s arm, to a woman a few seats down at the bar. The bartender gave Keith a slight nod, subtly indicating her direction.

Keith tightened his grip on Dan’s arm, pulling him toward the woman. Dan stumbled a little, letting out a surprised giggle as he clung tighter to Keith, pressing against him in a way that made Keith’s cheeks turn red. “Oh my gosh, Keith,” Dan whispered, his voice dripping with sweetness. “Where are we going? Not that it matters, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“To find some answers,” Keith muttered, keeping his gaze fixed on the woman at the bar. She turned as they approached, a knowing smile already playing at her lips, her eyes full of amusement as she took in the sight of Dan clinging to Keith’s side.

“Hi,” Keith said, a bit stiffly, glancing down at Dan, who was still leaning against him, batting his lashes and swaying slightly. “I’m Keith, and… this is Dan. We were told you might know something about… this.” He gestured to Dan, whose flirtatious smile hadn’t faded, even as Keith’s tone turned serious.

The woman nodded slowly, her smile never wavering. “I might,” she said, her voice smooth, almost melodic. “And yes, I did this to your friend Dan here. He needed a lesson.”

Dan tilted his head, looking at her with a mix of confusion and fascination. “Wait… you did this?” he asked, sounding half-dazed, as if the realization was only slowly sinking in. “But, like… why? I didn’t do anything…”

The woman’s gaze sharpened slightly, though her smile remained. “Didn’t do anything? A man who doesn’t respect boundaries tends to learn best when he experiences a little… change in perspective.” Her eyes sparkled as she glanced Dan up and down. “And you, my dear, needed a new perspective.”

Keith cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation. “So… is there a way to reverse this? Dan’s had enough of a… lesson, don’t you think?”

The woman leaned back. “That’s really up to the person affected,” she said, her tone evasive. “Some men realize their mistakes quickly and find their way back. Others…” Her gaze lingered on Dan, who was fidgeting, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of his dress as he leaned into Keith. “…never change back at all. It depends on how much they embrace the change, you see.”

Dan giggled softly, his fingers twirling a lock of his blonde hair as he looked up at Keith with wide, adoring eyes. “Keith, she’s, like, so mysterious,” he murmured, almost dreamily, as if he were half-entranced. “Do you think she’s saying I’ll be, like, stuck like this?” He gave a little pout, pressing closer to Keith.

The woman’s smile turned almost pitying as she watched Dan squirming, his fingers tracing light circles on Keith’s arm. “I’ve seen men resist the change, and I’ve seen men accept it… but I’ve never seen anyone embrace it quite as quickly as your friend here.” She raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking back to Keith. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s more than a little comfortable in his new skin.”

Dan blinked, as if half-understanding, then shrugged, a dreamy smile spreading across his lips as he giggled again. “It’s, like, not so bad,” he admitted, running a hand down his side. “I mean, it’s kinda fun… but, like, only a little.” He looked up at Keith, biting his lip with an expression that was anything but innocent. “It’d be more fun if Keith would, like, kiss me and stuff.”

Keith shot him a sharp look, trying to keep Dan focused. “Dan, come on, don’t you want to… y’know, get back to normal?”

Dan tilted his head, looking at him with wide, clueless eyes, and shrugged. “I kinda just want to fuck you.”

The woman watched Dan, her smile softening as she took in the way he clung to Keith, gazing up at him with wide, adoring eyes. She shook her head slightly, her tone laced with a hint of finality.

“I’m afraid your friend is… too far gone,” she said, looking at Keith. “The more someone embraces the change, the more permanent it becomes. And, from what I’m seeing…” She gestured toward Dan, who was running his fingers down Keith’s arm, his face filled with a soft, dreamy adoration. “…she’s all but accepted it. This new self isn’t just temporary for her anymore.”

Keith’s face paled. “Wait, you’re saying… she’s stuck like this?” He looked down at Dan, who was smiling up at him, oblivious to the weight of what was being said.

The woman nodded, a spark of amusement in her eyes. “Yes. Your friend Dan is gone. This is who she is now.” She shrugged slightly, her gaze flicking between them. “I suggest you accept it… and perhaps, judging by her behavior, even enjoy it.”

Dan giggled, leaning into Keith with a bright, flirty smile. “Oh, Keith, isn’t she, like, so smart?” He sighed, reaching up to adjust a lock of his blonde hair, his gaze never leaving Keith’s face. “I mean, maybe it’s not so bad, right? We can still, like, hang out and stuff…” His fingers traced along Keith’s shoulder, his expression filled with innocent adoration.

Keith’s mind raced, the full reality of what the woman was saying hitting him all at once. He looked down at Dan, who now seemed completely at ease in this new body, new personality, everything.

“Dan…” Keith began, struggling to find the right words. But Dan just giggled, pressing even closer, his eyes shining with excitement.

“Call me Dani, Keith,” he murmured, voice soft and breathy. “I think I, like, really like this body. And maybe… maybe you could, like, enjoy my body too?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few months later, Keith and Dani were practically inseparable. Dani had fully embraced her sweet and bubbly new self. She had settled into her life as a stunning blonde, as if this had been who she was meant to be all along. She’d even moved in with Keith, the two of them now happily sharing their lives.

Keith had quickly learned that Dani’s flirtatious, ditzy charm was here to stay. She was still the same playful, affectionate person she’d become that fateful night, though now with a new-found appreciation for being treated well. Keith loved to pamper her, enjoying her delight over every little thoughtful gesture, every compliment, every affectionate touch. Dani loved being adored, and she made it clear that she adored him just as much.

Sitting on the floor of their apartment one evening, Dani nestled into a giant teddy bear Keith had bought her as a joke, laughing and smiling up at him. She looked radiant, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with a happiness that was impossible to fake. Keith watched her, his heart warm, as she giggled and nuzzled the teddy bear, casting him little looks that still made his pulse quicken.

“Keith,” she cooed, biting her lip as she gave him a coy smile. “I, like, love this bear so much! It’s, like, almost as big as you!” She giggled, reaching out to pull him down to sit beside her, leaning against him with a contented sigh. “You know, you’re, like, the best thing ever, right?”

Keith chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Dani,” he replied softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “You taught me more than you know.”

She giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before snuggling closer. “I, like, never thought I’d be this happy,” she whispered, her voice soft but full of joy. “And… I totally didn’t expect to find a guy who knows how to, y’know, treat a girl.” She beamed at him, her expression full of adoration.

Keith smiled, his heart swelling with affection as he held her close. Dani had indeed learned a lesson, but so had he. Together, they’d found something real, something they both cherished, something they never wanted to let go.

[megalony]

You Are Enough

This is a new Tommy Kinard imagine, hopefully to bring a bit of fluff after the last 911 episode.

I hope you will all like it, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Summary: At a family dinner, (Y/n) and Buck find out a bombshell about their childhood and the reason they were born. Unable to cope, the pair of them drink themselves into oblivion. Tommy gets the drunken phone call afterwards.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A grimace crossed (Y/n)'s face and she hung her head down when she watched her mother walk into the kitchen.

Had it not been clear that (Y/n) had come in here to get away from their family for a few minutes? She hadn't intended to be followed and observed in the kitchen the same as she was at the dining table.

Her finger swirled around the rim of her glass and she arched her lower back out, clicking her spine into place before she held the stem of her glass and downed the remnants of wine left in the glass. She needed another drink. (Y/n) felt like drinking enough glasses until she felt and smelled like a brewery. She needed something to get her through this night with her parents.

"Another one?"

Resentment pooled in (Y/n)'s stomach when she felt her mother's eyes on her as she poured herself a drink.

Was she not entitled to another drink? It wasn't as if (Y/n) had drank a full bottle or more since she'd been here, she was allowed to get drunk if she wanted to.

She didn't bother to give her mother an answer, she simply poured herself a large glass of white wine until the bottle was empty and she could set it down near the sink. No point leaving a drop left in the bottle, not when (Y/n) was more than eager to drink the rest of it up.

"What are you wearing, honey?" Margaret danced her eyes up and down (Y/n)'s frame while (Y/n) slowly straightened up. Her fingers clenched around her glass until her nails were close to leaving splinter marks in the tall glass.

She wondered how long it would be before her mother commented on her attire. (Y/n) saw no need to dress up tonight, not for a family meal round at Maddie and Chimney's apartment. It didn't matter what she wore, her mother always made some sort of remark. She would say dresses didn't suit (Y/n), she was showing too much cleavage or it didn't go down her thighs enough and looked too revealing. Or the material wasn't right and made her look odd.

It seemed to be her mother's favourite game to try and nit-pick until (Y/n)'s temper went bust.

"It's one of Tommy's shirts." She shrugged and took another gulp of her drink but the way her mother narrowed her eyes and looked at her made (Y/n) shiver.

"Maybe you should wear your own clothes, or don't they suit you?"

"Tommy's stuff suits me just fine." The snappy edge to her voice made Margaret's nose scrunch and she looked away from her daughter.

(Y/n) liked wearing her partner's clothes, especially when he wasn't around. His smell stuck to his clothes and it calmed (Y/n) down and made her feel at ease. It made her feel like he was here with her when he was really on shift. Tommy would be finishing his shift in an hour or so if he was on schedule and not held back, and by the time (Y/n) got home tonight she should be able to find her partner curled up in bed.

She wanted to be home right now. She wanted to be home waiting for Tommy to get back.

In an ideal world, Tommy would have been here with them. He had had years of experience with tough parents after dealing with his sadistic father and a depressed mother. He would of been fine with the cold remarks, he would of brushed them off and made light out of the situation and he would of kept (Y/n) calm. But he wasn't here, and her patience was wearing thin.

Shaking her head, (Y/n) turned away and walked back through towards the dining room. But she quickly diverted towards the living room when she realised everyone had filtered through there. Rightfully so, considering dinner had now finished. No point sitting at the table when they could relax on the sofa.

When she spotted Buck sat on the end of the sofa, (Y/n) made a beeline for him and plonked down next to him so she was in the middle of the sofa. If she was going to get through the rest of this night, she had to be close to her twin.

She felt a little more at ease when Maddie sat down next to her so all three siblings were in line on the sofa, and Chimney perched down on the arm rest next to Maddie. It was a bit of a tight fit for them all on the sofa, but they made it work. It was comfortable, cosy.

It meant (Y/n) wasn't directly close to either parent, with Phillip being in the armchair next to Buck and Margaret sat opposite him in the other chair that was nearer to Maddie. (Y/n) felt neutral in the middle, she felt protected and closed off from her parents, exactly how she wanted to be.

(Y/n) let herself slouch down a little more to try and get comfy and her fingers traced over the cold glass she was cradling like it was some sort of sacred object.

"Maddie, we got you a few things. It's not much, just a few bits for the baby."

(Y/n) leaned her head on her brother's shoulder, watching with a slight sense of boredom as their dad got up and set a bag down on the coffee table in front of Maddie.

She couldn't help but wonder that if at some time in the future, she herself got pregnant, would their parents make such a fuss? Would they insist on coming down to see (Y/n) if she were having a baby? Would they get her gifts and pay attention? Would they make more of a deal about Tommy like they were trying to do with Chimney? Would they finally think of Tommy as family?

After all, he and (Y/n) had been dating for a long while now, and they had talked about kids. They were thinking of trying for a baby- not that they would tell anyone that yet, not unless it actually happened.

She caught her sister's eye and both of them shared a smile as Maddie began to look through the gifts, unaware that (Y/n)'s smile was more forced than natural.

It was mainly a few baby grows, ranging from Winnie The Pooh to blushing pink, with a few teddies in the mix. (Y/n) handed a few across to Buck so he could look too once Maddie started handing the stuff to (Y/n) so her siblings could inspect and be nosey.

"These are lovely, thank you." Maddie folded the clothes back up once everyone had had the chance to look at them and she laid them on the table. It wasn't like they were crying out for baby things, the team had already given Maddie and Chimney more than enough items to keep their daughter clothed for the next five years, but it was the thought that counted.

The Buckley siblings didn't see their parents often, and although that was the way they liked it, receiving gifts was a nice offering.

"I can't believe it, our first grandchild." Margaret reached across and ran her hand up and down Maddie's knee, oblivious to the way that (Y/n) looked up to catch her brother's eye.

They both knew if they ever had kids, they wouldn't receive this kind of treatment. They wouldn't be fussed over like Maddie was, they would never be loved or favourtised like their elder sibling, and that was something they had come to terms with years ago.

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) rose her glass and took a large mouthful of wine that suddenly tasted bitter rather than sweet.

She wanted to go home.

She hated herself for feeling jealous and resentful towards Maddie because it wasn't her fault and (Y/n) loved her. She was truly happy that her big sister was finally happy and settling down to have a family of her own rather than parenting her two younger siblings.

But this only proved how left out (Y/n) and Buck were still feeling and they were in their twenties now, not little kids vying for their parent's attention. (Y/n) didn't want to sit here and watch her sister get fussed over and showered with gifts and love while she and her twin just sat there like ornaments.

The twins were here for decoration rather than to be involved, whether that was how the rest of them felt or not.

"What's in that box over there?" Chimney pointed across towards the pale cream box he could see near the window. He had seen Phillip bring it in when they arrived and he had done his best not to be nosey, but he was curious by nature and he wanted to know what else they had brought over.

"Oh," A smile animated Margaret's face and she hurried up to go and retrieve the box in question.

Both (Y/n) and Buck tried to lean over to catch a glimpse and curiosity perked in their eyes when they noticed Maddie was written in cursive writing across the lid in glittered, sparkling letters.

"The baby box I made when we had Maddie, here. I thought you might like it, maybe you could make one for your little girl."

A tremor tore through (Y/n) when she looked at the box and although she wasn't sure why, she felt something clawing at her chest. Like an animal hidden within her ribcage, desperately trying to break free. That box looked like an omen rather than a gift. It looked hazardous. Maybe that was because (Y/n) could see how much effort had been put into that box, and she knew.

She knew there wasn't one like that for her.

(Y/n) shuffled a bit closer to Buck's side and sat up straight with her arms resting on her thighs. She passed her wine glass back and forth between her hands while she arched forward and watched her sister intently. Even though she didn't want to know what little treasures their mum had kept from when Maddie was little.

But when she felt her twin lean over with one hand on her arm and the other rummaging through the box, she knew Buck felt it too. The slight displacement they had suffered through all their lives.

"That's so cool, did you bring ours?"

One little look at her mum was enough to cause a callous smile to cross (Y/n)'s face and she couldn't hide the tears welling up in her eyes. She had been right; there was no such box for the twins.

"We don't have one. Do we?"

Both parents stayed quiet, sharing a few looks with each other while Buck gripped (Y/n)'s arm and leaned closer to her as if to comfort his twin. He could feel her heart breaking and it made his own chest tighten like he was about to have a heart attack.

He rested his temple against the side of (Y/n)'s head and she was sure he tried to whisper something in her ear, probably some words of comfort. But whatever he said fell upon deaf ears when (Y/n) looked at Maddie.

She noticed Maddie trying to scrunch up a picture and slide it beneath her leg, something she always did when she was trying to hide something. Whether it was a bad report card she didn't want their parents seeing or a party invite she was trying to hide from the twins to make a big surprise.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what came over her, but she leaned away from Buck and snatched the picture from beneath Maddie's thigh before her sister could hide it or try and discard it. Whatever it was, Maddie clearly didn't want the twins to see and therefore (Y/n) had to know what it was.

She recognised that red bike.

It was the one they used to have in the garage, the one that presumably had been Maddie's when she was younger because their mother kept it even when Maddie outgrew it. She wouldn't allow the twins to touch it, let alone try and learn how to ride a bike with that red, tattered old thing.

But that wasn't Buck on the bike. (Y/n) knew what her twin looked like as a child, and this wasn't him. And when she turned the picture round and saw the date on the back, she noticed it was over a year before the twins had even been born.

"Who is that?"

Buck leaned over her shoulder to see what the picture was, and his hand clutched at (Y/n)'s arm tighter while his brows knitted together in confusion. He didn't recognise the little boy either.

When he looked between their parents sat either side of the sofa, Buck frowned to see that they had both turned as white as paper. There were tears welling up in their mother's eyes while Phillip was scratching the back of his neck out of nervous habit.

Yet it was the tears in Maddie's eyes that had both twins on edge. Why was she covering her mouth and trying not to cry? Why was she looking at them with such sorrow like that?

"Daniel."

"And who's he?" That name meant nothing to either of them. The twins shared a look but they were both coming up blank for answers.

"We, um… we had him two years after Maddie. He had leukemia, he, he passed when you two were only babies."

Every thought possible swirled round in (Y/n)'s head as she felt both her brother's hands on her shoulders like he didn't believe what he was hearing. This couldn't be possible. Why wouldn't they tell them? Why would they keep such a secret? Why would they keep this all to themselves? Were the twins not worthy of knowing they had a big brother they never got to meet?

"Wh- no. No you never told us- why wouldn't you tell us something like that? Why wouldn't you acknowledge him around us?" Buck's voice grew louder and louder with each word as his head snapped from left to right, trying to look between his parents who he didn't recognise right now.

There was no plausible explanation for hiding something like this. If Buck ever had kids and God forbid he lost one, he wouldn't erase them from existence and pretend they never happened. They had never celebrated Daniel's birthday. They never had pictures of him in the house- there were hardly any pictures of the twins in the house as it was. No one uttered his name or had any memory of him in the house.

"We lost him, Evan. We didn't want to live our lives mourning him-"

"So you chose to forget him?"

"Evan we would never-"

"You had us while he was sick? How long had he been diagnosed?" A frown pulled at (Y/n)'s lips while she set her glass down on the coffee table and clasped her hands together in her lap.

How stressful it must have been to look after twins and Maddie while their other child was dying. Going through a twin pregnancy would have been stressful enough without the added trauma of a sick child. But as (Y/n) thought everything over, she just happened to look up at her mother at the wrong time.

She had a look of sympathy in her eyes. Margaret never held such emotions for the twins like that.

"No, oh no. You… tell me you didn't…" The words wouldn't come out. All (Y/n) could do was let the tears fall from her eyes as she began to shake. Both her hands moved to cup her mouth as her jaw hung loose and her breathing came to an odd pattern.

"What? What, I don't understand." Buck moved both hands to grip (Y/n)'s forearms as he tried to lean in front of her to get her to look at him. Something daunting had crossed her face. Some sense of realisation had hit (Y/n) whereas it hadn't clicked in Buck's brain yet. He didn't understand what she had thought of.

When Maddie tried to take (Y/n)'s hand, the younger girl shook her off and leaned into Buck as if their sister was suddenly contagious.

"You said I wasn't planned, that I- I was the surprise, but Buck wasn't." (Y/n)wiped her eyes but the tears continued to fall. "We were donor babies, weren't we?"

The way Margaret's lower lip wobbled and Phillip refused to look at either of them while he pressed his hands to his mouth secured (Y/n)'s answer.

They were donor babies.

They were designed embryos, made with the exact blood and bone marrow type to match the brother they never knew they had. They were supposed to save him. They weren't wanted, neither of them were born to be wanted or loved or cherished. They were born specifically to save the child their parents wanted and they couldn't even do that right.

Everything seemed to slot into place and the more pieces that fitted together, the more (Y/n) started to feel sick and feel bile rising to the back of her throat.

All those times their parents never made a fuss on their birthdays, all those times they barely heard the words 'I love you' unless it was Maddie telling them. Each time they had to get hurt for attention or run away to cause a panic and be shown that they were valued and cherished. Each time (Y/n) asked about when they were born and their mother refused to answer, this was why.

Their mum always used to say that having twins was a surprise. That (Y/n) wasn't planned, she was a surprise since she was the younger twin by five minutes. This was why. They planned to have one more child to save their son but they ended up with (Y/n) too. Neither of them were truly wanted, they were just needed for a short while and then couldn't be returned after they were no longer of use.

This was why the twins always felt disconnected and why there were barely any photos of them growing up. This was why all of the pictures of (Y/n) and Buck as babies were with no one holding them. (Y/n) had been the sick twin, stuck in the hospital for two weeks before coming home and there was only one photo of her in the hospital when she was born.

Did they even visit her when she was sick? Did they check on her, or did they just take what they needed from her and Evan and stay with Daniel the whole time?

"All these years. All this time, we felt so out of place and alone, and this is why. You never wanted us. Did we remind you of him? Did we fail you every day we woke up and he didn't?"

"Evan please, we tried our best-"

"We just wanted you to love us!"

The sheer outburst and the way that Buck bolted up from the sofa sent everyone reeling.

The artery in his neck was close to bursting, his hand was pointing out at his parents and his jaw was grinding tight and about to dislocate. His body was shaking from adrenaline as he glared at them. His parents had lied to him all his life. His big sister who was the only one who loved him, she never told him why he felt so out of place and unloved and misunderstood. The only person he could rely on was his twin and she felt exactly the same as him.

Maddie was leaning into Chimney who had an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

Margaret was crying into her hands, unable to look away from her son for the first time in a long while, and Phillip was now stood up, running his fingers through his hair as he tried not to breakdown.

And then there was (Y/n). Silently crying, arms bound around her waist as she felt the need to throw up or pass out, possibly both.

"I walk into fire every day of my life because of you. I tried everything to get your approval, to get you to love me, to love us the way you do Maddie, but nothing would ever work. And now I know why, because we failed you."

When Maddie tried again to reach out for her sister, she gasped when (Y/n) all but slapped her touch away.

"You should have t-told us." All those times (Y/n) and Buck asked her why their parents didn't pay them any attention or turn up for school plays or listen to them or even love them. Maddie had the answers and she never said anything. She should have told them the moment the twins moved out. She had years to tell them and she never mentioned it.

Not once.

(Y/n) ran her hands across her face, brushing the tears away before she moved her hands to the sofa and pushed up to unsteady feet.

"Let's get out of here." Her words were clearly directed towards Buck and he seemed relieved to hear them.

Neither of them wanted to stay here. They didn't want to look at their parents, let alone be in the same room as them, and right now, for the first time, that included Maddie as well. She hid this from them, she lied to them and withheld the answers they so desperately searched for. Maddie should have told them once they were old enough, she had the choice and the ability to tell them whether their parents told her to stay quiet or not. She chose to keep this secret too.

"Guys, you don't have to leave." Chimney pushed up from the sofa along with Maddie who tried to reach out for them. But she pushed back into Chimney, smothering a cry when (Y/n) sobbed and jerked away from her. She didn't feel safe here. Maddie lied to her. Their parents lied to them their entire lives and now the twins understood why their parents looked at them the way they did.

"Fuck all of you." (Y/n) made a brisk walk towards the door, grabbing her bag on her way past.

Buck followed swiftly behind her, slinging his jacket over one shoulder but when he felt Maddie grabbing his arm, he glared down at his big sister for the first time in his life.

"Buck, please don't go."

"You made your choice." He tore his arm from her grip, using his sleeve to wipe away the tears before he pushed ahead and followed after his sister. Maddie chose to keep this secret and now she could face the repercussions of that.

The pair of them stormed down the hall, tears drenching their faces and every limb trembling as they walked in tandem but with no destination in sight.

"What a-are we going to do?" (Y/n) didn't want to go home. Tommy probably wouldn't be home yet and even if he was, (Y/n) didn't think she could face him. She didn't want to go back to an empty house. She didn't want to go back to a place full of memories when all she desired was to be far away from anything and everything.

She felt a fire igniting in her chest when Buck slid his hand into hers and tugged her to keep up with his fast pace as he began their descent down the stairs. He knew where they should go. He knew exactly what they needed to do and where to go in order to escape everything that had happened tonight.

"We're gonna get drunk."

***

It had been a good idea.

Going out for drinks, just the two of them where they only needed each other. It had been a good idea at the time.

But now, almost ten shots later, countless rounds of cocktails mixed with vodka martinis and the odd glass of wine, it was all coming back up with vengeance. (Y/n) could feel everything mixing oddly in her stomach and swirling around in her liver and she knew her brother felt the same by the way he kept hiccupping and wobbling on his feet.

She wasn't sure how long it took them to get back to Buck's apartment, but it had taken significantly longer than it would have if they had been sober.

Her head fell onto Buck's arm and her hand clutched his while her other hand reached out for the door frame.

Buck's brows knitted together as he tried to fathom how to get the key into the lock and which way it was supposed to turn. After a minute, he grinned and jingled the keys at his sister to show her which key he had been trying to put in the lock.

The key to the jeep.

Five minutes later and the door was finally open and both twins stumbled through the door.

Buck kicked the door shut behind him while (Y/n) stumbled ahead until she went down on her knees when her feet gave way and her head started to spin. She felt like lying down and going to sleep, but her brain was much to hyperactive for that to happen, and it didn't matter how drunk she was.

Once she was on the floor, she shuffled until she was against the kitchen island and her back was resting up against the counter. Her head tipped back to try and stop herself from being sick and her arms looped around her knees which she brought up to her stomach.

She couldn't stop the tears from streaking down her face, or the sobs that started to bubble past her lips which turned into horrible sobs once she started and couldn't stop.

Her body rocked back and forth and each time her body went back, the back of her head slammed into the counter with enough force to make her whimper and have her sights blurring in front of her.

"Why am I even here?"

"What?" Buck hiccupped again and when he realised his sister was sat on the floor, he frowned for a moment before he let his knees cave and he crashed down beside her.

He shed his jacket like it was a second skin and he sat oddly on one hip with his legs curled beneath him and his hand on (Y/n)'s knee. He winced each time she slammed her head back and after a minute, he pressed his temple against the side of her head to try and get her to stop. She was sending him dizzy and making him want to cry which was also making him feel sick.

"We didn't even save him! Why am I alive? T-they've always looked at us funny, like we're letting them down, and we did. We were born to save him and we failed."

What had they done wrong? There were two of them and even that hadn't been enough to save the brother they never knew they had. Why had two of them not been enough? Why had neither of them been able to donate enough stem cells or blood or whatever Daniel needed? Why did they get to live but he still died even with them here? How was any of this fair?

"M-mum always said we were a surprise… they were expecting one kid, and got two. They didn't want me, I wasn't planned and I- I never saved him. No wonder she never loved us."

A loud wail left (Y/n)'s lips followed by a broken cough when she felt like the vodka they drank was doing a summersault in her stomach.

Her nails began to scratch into her lower legs and she slammed her head back into the counter with enough force to blackout her vision and send her head spinning from left to right. She felt Buck wince beside her and he groaned as he reeled her away from the wall.

She was starting to get self-destructive and Buck didn't want his twin to hurt herself. She didn't need to do that. She didn't deserve that. It was their parents who deserved all this pain they were feeling. Losing a child had been hard enough, but they had treated (Y/n) and Buck like they were unwanted guests they couldn't get rid of. As if they were a hindrance, a parasite and that had been crueller than not telling them about Daniel's existence.

Their parent's didn't want (Y/n).

She was the younger twin, the one who had to stay in hospital in the ICU for longer. She was the surprise. They planned for one more child to try and save Daniel but they ended up with two who couldn't do one job between them. This was why (Y/n) and Evan had been self-destructive all their lives, why they tried to subconsciously save as many people as they could. Because there was one important person they had never been able to save.

When (Y/n) flopped into him with her eyes closed from her vision that was still blurring, Buck wrapped his arms around her.

He let (Y/n) flop onto her side with her knees still curled up into her stomach and her head resting on his lap. He wrapped his arm around her and leaned down to hug her, but he hated the way she started to sob which in turn made him begin to cry.

He fumbled his hand around in his pocket, silently praying that he hadn't lost his phone when they got blackout drunk tonight. The moment he found it, he scrolled through until he found Tommy's contact.

"Buck?"

"Are you s-still at work?" Buck groaned as he began to hiccup again and part of him wished he had face-timed Tommy to make this a bit easier.

A frown appeared on Tommy's face as he pushed up so he was leaning up into the pillows. He blearily blinked through the darkness and pressed his phone tighter to his ear to try and hear Buck a bit better.

He was close to Buck. They were like brothers, given how long Tommy had been dating (Y/n) and how close she was to her twin. Tommy had intergrated into their circle and he went out on nights out with Buck and had reconnected to Chimney because he was with Maddie. Tommy felt like Buck was the brother he'd never had, so he could tell right now that something was off in buck's voice.

"Buck, it's one in the morning, I'm in bed. What's wrong? Didn't you all have your family meal tonight?" Tommy glanced at his phone, reading that it was just after one in the morning.

He had been expecting (Y/n) to come home by now, but Tommy also knew that his girl would be spending the evening with Buck. She already warned him that family meals didn't go down well and she would probably go out somewhere with Buck or head back to his place for a while.

He had waited until midnight to check if (Y/n) called him for a ride home, but he figured she was spending the night at Buck's place.

A shiver crawled down Tommy's spine and he jerked up into a sitting position when a sudden noise caught his attention.

(Y/n).

She was crying. Why was she crying? It was late in the night, had they been involved in some kind of accident? Had someone hurt her? Where were they? What were the pair of them doing?

"Is that (Y/n)? Buck why is she crying, what's happened?" Tommy was already scrambling out of bed and looking for his clothes before he got a response. He set his phone on speaker and turned the lamp on so he could try and get dressed. He had no idea what was going on but he knew he needed to find his girlfriend and one of his best friends and help them.

"Please come over."

"Where are you?"

Buck glanced down at his sister on his lap while he sniffed and rubbed his sleeve beneath his eyes and nose. "Where a-are we?" He frowned before a light went off in his mind and he almost smiled. "Oh, w-we're at my place."

"I'll be ten minutes."

True to his word, Tommy got to Buck's apartment in record time, mainly because it was late at night and there were no cars on the road which meant he hit every green light on the way.

He was utterly relieved when he knocked on the door and tried the handle that they had left the door unlocked. It meant he didn't have to wait for them to come to the door because he guessed by the confusion and the sound of Buck's voice that they were drunk. That wasn't the best start or a great indicator about what had happened tonight.

He hurried inside, darting his head from left to right before a crumpled sight on the floor near the dining table caught his attention.

The twins were curled up together on the floor in front of the kitchen island next to the bar stools. (Y/n) had her head on Buck's knee and she was sobbing freely which broke Tommy's heart. But seeing Buck rocking back and forth, trying to curl around her made Tommy feel even worse.

He bolted over to the pair of them and knelt down just in front of them with rabid, wild eyes and his breaths running away from him.

His hands gently reached out for (Y/n) and the moment his thumb brushed her cheek and his hand cupped the side of her neck, she seemed to come alive. A gasp tumbled past her lips and a floodwave of tears broke down her face as she scrambled to push up off Buck's lap.

Her arms deadlocked around Tommy's neck and she pushed herself into his chest, scrambling across until she was laid on his thighs in an awkward position.

"Okay, okay baby come here."

His hand cupped the back of her neck while his other hand gripped her thigh comfortingly and he firmly pulled (Y/n) up. He lifted her until her face was tucked into his neck and her chest was pressing into his. Her knees pressed into his hips until (Y/n) found the will to move and managed to shakily curl her legs around Tommy's torso so she was sitting on his lap, clinging to him like a baby monkey.

He slowly swayed back and forth, attaching his lips to the side of her head while he watched Buck lean back into the counter and bring his knees up to his stomach. His hands knitted in his hair and he tried to take deep breaths but he felt like he was going insane.

"Can one of you tell me what's happened please?" He peppered a few more kisses against (Y/n)'s temple while his thumb stroked the back of her neck and his fingers wove into her hair.

He could feel the way (Y/n) was gasping into his neck and how badly she was trembling in his arms. He figured she wasn't going to be able to string a sentence together yet or tell him what had happened to them both tonight so his eyes set on Buck.

"We had a brother." Buck started talking, but tears continued to trickle down his face and he was at the point of gasping for air. "He had cancer, t-they had us, as donor kids, but we fucked up. We didn't save him, s-so they never told us about him, or w-why we were born."

Tommy's face dropped and his arms subconsciously tightened around (Y/n) when she whimpered. He pressed his lips down into the crook of (Y/n)'s neck while he tried to wrap his head around this.

He'd heard about this. Donor babies. People having genetically modified embryos to be specific matches for their kids. It was quicker than waiting on the donor list and meant their child would have a full blood match and effectively have a bag of spare parts if their child wasn't well or continued to decline.

But Tommy had never met anyone who had been a donor child before, and he'd never known parents to lie about the existence of another child like this. He couldn't imagine the self-discipline it would take to do that or how broken they must be to erase a child from existence. It was cruel. But not as cruel as what they had done to the twins all these years.

"We failed. He's the reason we're alive… a-and we're the reason he's dead."

A sob tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to burrow herself further into Tommy to hide away.

But a gasp tumbled past her lips when she felt him stiffen and tense in front of her and he leaned back to try and look down at her.

"Hey, look at me." His hand pinched her chin and tilted her head back so their eyes locked. "So maybe you exist because of some brother you never knew, but he's not dead because of you. Your parents knew what they were doing when they had you, they knew they would have to raise two more kids and if they didn't want to do that, then that's on them."

He pressed his lips against (Y/n)'s burning temple before she gently pulled her head out of his grasp and twisted to lay her cheek on his shoulder. Her arms tightened around his neck and she pressed every inch of her chest up against Tommy's broad chest that softened a little when she snuggled into him.

"Neither of you are God, you don't decide who lives or who dies and you don't exist solely to serve one purpose. How many people would be dead without you two on the job as firemen? You've already saved so many lives, but you're not alive to be valued on those lives. You don't need a purpose, okay, both of you are enough."

Buck looked like he was starting to laugh before a small groan left his lips and he tilted his head down to rest his head in his hands.

Moving his hand, Tommy cupped the side of (Y/n)'s face and kissed her temple for a few moments while he sighed into her hair. It was going to be a long night and it was going to take a while for this news to sink in and for the twins to come to terms with this.

"How much have you two had to drink?" When neither of them answered him, he rephrased. "Alright, what have you had to drink?"

"Shots, s-some martinis and- and cocktails…"

"And vodka." (Y/n) chimed in while she closed her eyes when Tommy groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Jesus, alright so you went all-out then. Baby, baby you stay here for me. Buck, you need to go to bed come on."

Tommy was careful when he eased (Y/n) onto the floor so she was no longer clinging to his chest. He lifted her chin so he could press a wet kiss to her lips before he pushed up to his feet and held his hand out in front of Buck. He helped the other man up to his feet and carefully steered him towards the stairs.

It was late and they were both drunk, they needed to sleep this off and they could all talk in the morning. Tommy would help them cure their hangovers in the morning.

It took a while for Tommy to heave Buck up the stairs and get him towards the bed. He took the time to look around the room and move the small bin so it was beside the bed while Buck stripped from his jeans and jumper and clambered up the bed.

He was half asleep by the time he slumped his face into the pillow and Tommy carefully pushed him so he was laying on his side. If he threw up Tommy didn't want him to choke.

"If you need anything, just shout out. You good?"

The lack of response told Tommy that Buck was starting to drift off and he thought it best to leave him to it.

He jogged back down the stairs towards (Y/n) who had flopped onto her side and started to curl up on the floor like she was getting back into the fetal position.

"No, no baby we're not sleeping down here. Come here, gorgeous."

Tommy cupped the side of her neck and lifted her back up into a sitting position so he could loop her arms around his neck. One arm slid around her waist and the other swooped beneath her knees and with very little effort, Tommy lifted her up bridal style and slowly trailed towards the living room that was shrouded in darkness.

He left the lamp on in the kitchen for a source of light and he carefully sat down on the sofa with (Y/n) in his lap. She stayed limp and easily moveable in his arms while he swung his legs around on the sofa and shifted (Y/n) so she was leaning back into his chest.

The sofa was a bit small for Tommy's large frame, his ankles hung off the end of the arm rest but the cushion was comfy behind his head and he was tired. He knew (Y/n) had to be exhausted too.

Her face tucked down into his chest, smothering her lips and nose in his shirt while her hand fisted in his top and she snuggled down. She was laid on her side, her body perfectly slotted between Tommy's thighs leaning back into his chest. And when Tommy grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it across them both, he felt (Y/n) smile and hum lovingly into his chest.

There was no way Tommy was driving (Y/n) home in this state and he didn't want to leave Buck alone. It was safer for them both to stay here with him, then the twins could talk in the morning when they were both sober.

"Okay, baby?" His hand ran up and down her arm while his other arm rested behind his head and he tilted his head down. His lips attached to the top of her head while he observed her for a few moments, making sure she was closing her eyes and trying to sleep and not on the verge of another breakdown.

"Hm."

"You are enough. You'll always be enough." His words mingled into her hair and he closed his eyes, breathing in her scent as tiredness washed over them both.

But his words swirled around in (Y/n)'s mind and made her stomach flutter as she snuggled down deeper against Tommy.

She could feel herself falling asleep with nothing but the thought of Tommy playing on her mind and the notion that he loved her to the end of the Earth.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 48

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 45, part 46, part 47

Everyone forms a circle in Steve’s living room. Sitting crossed legged on the floor, waiting. Some people are missing, El wanted to stay with her dad, and Jonathan’s still avoiding Nancy at all costs. There’s a walkie in the center of the circle, open to the same channel. If El needed them, she could listen.

Steve, Robin, and Nancy are talking in the kitchen. Probably getting a little bit drunk. Coping in a way that they won’t let the rest of them. Trying to be the strong ones, when they don’t have to. Tonight’s going to be rough for all of them, they could break just once without consequence.

It’s almost time, Dustin goes to get them.

“Nance,” he hears Robin say, “he won’t come. He’s still pissed at you.”

“And me,” Steve adds.

A glass gets placed hard on the counter. “I don’t care. Before all of this, he was my friend.” He hears their steps move toward the front door and the rustle of keys. “We were there for each other when this started, we’re going to be there for each other as it ends.”

“But if he doesn’t want to talk to you,” Steve tries to reason.

“I don’t care.” There’s a slight waiver to Nancy’s voice. Dustin’s not sure he’s ever seen her cry over this. Seen any of them cry over this. “I don’t know how I can get through this without him, and I’m not going to find out.”

Dustin walks to the hall as the front door opens. Jonathan’s behind it, looking like he was in the middle of a debate with himself. He doesn’t look good. Eyes red rimmed and drooping. Clothes rumpled and looked like they were a few days old.

“Hey,” he says with a hollow voice.

“Hi,” Nancy responds.

He clears his throat. “I’m still pissed at you, but—” he trails off.

“I know.”

The clock on the wall ticks five minutes till nine. “Guys,” Dustin calls down the hall. “It’s almost time.”

Steve’s head nods, solemn. “Let’s go.”

Eddie’s there when they return to the living room, sitting on the floor. “Kids said I could join,” he says to Steve. Something unreadable in his eyes. “Is that ok?”

“Course it is,” Steve says as he sits next to Eddie. Closer than Dustin was expecting.

The circle closes and they join hands. Tangible proof that everyone is still here. Dustin is between Robin and Erica, with Steve just on the other side of Robin. Right there. Alive.

Right on cue, the fireworks start.

Dustin squeezes his eyes shut with the first boom. Sparks visualize in his mind. Red arms of flesh swinging at him. He takes the fireworks and throws it. They win, but at what cost.

Erica tightens her grip on his hand. He squeezes back to show her he’s alive.

“Steve,” Robin whispers.

“Still alive,” he responds. Voice wet.

Dustin feels her shift closer to him.

He forces his eyes open, forces the visions to stop. Those of the group who have their eyes open meet his gaze. All of them in a state of fear or grief. They are all in this together. The fireworks continue to boom.

Nancy keeps looking over to Mike to make sure he’s there. Before nodding at each of them, counting heads. Jonathan’s legs are pulled up to his chest. Will keeps flinching his one arm, ready to feel the eeriness creep at his neck. Lucas moved his arm around Erica’s shoulders, holding her close.

He looks at all of them and knows that he isn’t alone. He isn’t alone in his pain, or his wishing things could be different. As Mike and Nancy look at each other again, he knows they spend so much time wishing the other wasn’t a part of this. As Max can’t hold in her cries anymore, he knows that Lucas wishes he never told her about the upside down that day.

As Steve mutters out a quiet, “I work at Scoops,” Dustin wishes he never dragged him into this.

But the past can’t change. It’s already been written. Dustin can hope and wish and pray that things played out differently. He can blame himself for the rest of his life, but it won’t change anything. Because their paths would have always converged in the same way. Always leading them here.

The radio crackles in the center of the circle, El’s voice comes through. “Almost over.”

He knows that he’ll always probably blame himself. That he will always wish that things were different. That he’ll wish the nightmares were normal ones about his teeth falling out in class or forgetting he had a test. He’ll wish that time was different, that his life never had to change like this. But maybe he can make peace with the fact that it will never change.

Maybe he can make peace that these people don’t blame him for this. They’ll wish the same as him, that they never got involved, but it was inevitable. That night when Will went missing, it changed the paths for everyone in this room. Choices were made that can’t be taken back, and they’ll regret some of them for the rest of their lives.

But, with each other, they can move forward from this as one and finally heal. The last fight has been fought. Been won. As the time moves forward, so can they. Together.

“Brace yourselves,” Dustin whispers, knowing what the big finale is like. They all wait for it to end.

He used to love fireworks. Would beg his mom to bring him to the fair every year just so he could see him. And when he was old enough, he would bike there with the party and just stand there in awe. The perfect mix of science, his greatest love, making art in the sky.

As the last boom of the night rings through the air, Dustin hopes he can enjoy it again someday. He promises himself that one day, he will.

No one moves for a few minutes after they end. Sitting still to calm the beatings of their hearts. They made it through.

Almost in synchrony, they all start to move. Standing up, wiping the tears from their eyes. Returning to normal. Finding themselves again.

“Steve?” Eddie asks softly after Steve doesn’t move. Sitting there rigid.

He nods. “I’m ok.” He straightens his back, revealing the wet trail of tears down his cheeks. “You ready?” he asks Robin.

“Yeah.”

She gets up first, holding out her hand for him. They go in two different directions. Robin getting a bag from the hallway, while Steve grabs a bottle of alcohol from the cabinet and a box of matches.

Dustin follows them as they go outside. “What are you guys doing?”

Steve places the bottle of alcohol, what looks like expensive tequila, next to the fire pit. “After that night, we made a pact. A year from then, we burn our uniforms.”

“To prove that we made it out,” Robin continues, her voice sounding dry. “To prove that we never have to go back.”

She hands Steve the bag and he dumps the uniforms into the fire pit. The blood and sweat soaked uniforms ready to be set ablaze.

Steve unscrews the tequila and pours it over them, wasting more than he probably should.

“You want to do the honors,” he asks Robin, handing her the box of matches.

She takes it with shaky hands, striking the match and tossing it into the pit. The fire starts instantly.

Robin sobs as she falls into Steve. His cries are silent as he wraps her in a hug. Holding each other as they watch the outfit from the worst night of their lives burn to ash. Dustin walks back inside, letting them have this moment to themselves.

Eddie is watching from the sliding doors. “What are they burning?”

“Their Scoops uniforms, they were wearing them when it all went down.”

Nancy walks up to the door. “I never knew what happened to them that night, every time I try to ask, they avoid answering it.”

She looks at Dustin for answers he doesn’t even know the whole of. “I think they were tortured. When we went into that bunker, we got separated. They held the door closed so me and Erica could escape into the vent. After we rescued them, Steve’s face was beaten up and they were tied to chairs, and drugged. I never got any confirmation, but I knew.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes out. Still staring out the glass. His arms held close to his chest.

“Do you remember their faces when we went into that vent,” Erica asks from behind them. “They were scared, but they still chose to save us.”

Dustin turns, seeing the group that had formed behind him. All watching the fire outside. He nods. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

“There are so many things from that night that I won’t forget,” Max speaks up.

“There are so many things from the last four years that I won’t forget,” Mike adds.

Will reaches to grab his hand. “Yeah.”

“We should go back to the living room,” Nancy says. “So we’re not just staring at them.”

Eddie is the last to leave the room, still staring at them through the door.

“He’s been acting weird all week," he explains as Dustin hangs back. “I knew it had to be something bad, I just didn’t imagine that.”

“No one wants to imagine half the things that we’ve been through.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

They rejoin the group in the living room. Jonathan grabs his keys and fills his car with the people who want to go home. Him and Nancy talking before he leaves. She hangs around, making sure everyone left is taken care of.

Eddie just sits on the couch, looking out of place. But he’s waiting for something, Dustin can tell.

“Hey,” Mike nudges Dustin’s shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re going over to my house for the night. Just in case you didn’t want to go home.”

Dustin thinks about it. He was going to see if he could stay the night here. Be close to Steve. But he might be ok. And by not being here, Steve could worry about just himself for a night. Not Dustin as well.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Eventually, Steve and Robin come back inside. Robin nods at Nancy before climbing the stairs up to Steve’s room. Steve and Eddie share a look when they pass. He stops and places a hand on Dustin’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug, before following Robin up the stairs.

Before Eddie can get to his room, Dustin stops him. “I’m going over to Mike’s, call me if anything happens.”

Eddie nods. “I got them, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.”

Nancy waits by the door. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin follow her out to the car. They drive to the house is quiet. Everyone is still reeling from tonight.

Jonathan’s car is parked out on the street when they get there. Will, Max, and Erica coming out with their bags.

“You could stay too, you know,” Nancy says to Jonathan. “No one should be alone tonight.”

“I thought about it, but I think it’s better if I go home.”

Nancy nods, accepting.

“See you around, Nance,” he says before getting back in his car.

“You could stay in the basement with us,” Mike offers, “if you need to.”

Nancy nods again, blinking away the tears in her eyes. Following them inside.

The basement floor is covered in blankets and pillows. Everyone finding a spot to lie down comfortably. Dustin stares at the ceiling, waiting for the tired fall of his eyes. So he can wake up tomorrow and feel better. Feel less like pure dread.

Slowly, he can hear the people around him start to fall asleep. Tomorrow will be better than today, he repeats in his mind. Peaceful sleep taking over.

the notes you guys left on my last post literally made my day, you have no idea. hugs for all of you.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[chaifootsteps]

wr.t. leaks (spoilers, duh!). Viv really chose the most boring and uninspired rendition of Alastor possible, and I could not be more disappointed. The signs were definitely there in Season 1, but if you wanted to you could easily dismiss as sloppy writing and one-time reactions to extraordinary events.

Like, I know no fan is *entitled* to have their particular interpretation of a character be validated, but... really? He's been reduced to the form of a one-dimensional, entitled manchild you might find as the villain of a self-insert fanfiction. Ohhhh nooo luci hurt his feefees and Rosie didn't actually make him an all powerful god, so time to storm out and whine about it. Why make a deal in the first place? Well, duh, he gleefully murdered so many people for trivial inconveniences he didn't wanna end up a tortured soul in Hell. He's basically Valentino, but, on the 'good team', and not a rapist (yet.), or Adam, or Vox, or Mammon, or Stella (frankly, you could even put Stolas in this bucket, if he weren't so unintentionally manipulative). A parody of a threatening character, incapable of creating conflict in any way that doesn't involve waving around a big stick and reminding everyone and the audience who the author blessed with magical power don't you forget it!

I've said this about pilot!fanon!Lucifer too, but, the fandom interpretations are just objectively more interesting. It's not like you can't write a story, or even a good story, about an entitled man drunk on power obsessed with his own image and getting what he thinks he's owed. But why would you 1) choose an enslaved racial minority character (!!!) to do this and 2) do it instead of multiple more compelling options given you already have multiple of this exact character on the cast?

Fanon!Alastor has emotions other than anger and insecure whining, he just can't express them because decades of crawling his way up two different hostile societies have beaten into him never expressing vulnerability. His very smile is symbol of societies like Hell ultimately victimize both the powerful abusers and their victims. Fanon!Alastor had a deal with ___ not because he's drunk on his own desire to murder but because he's vulnerable to the very same weakness and temptation he's learned to exploit in others. Fanon!Alastor has a natural dual conflict with Charlie: Alastor's connections and practical knowledge represent a way of making her dream a reality, at the cost of potentially corrupting her and having her get there in an incorrect/immoral way. And Charlie's dream presents Alastor with a pathway to more power and stability, but unbeknownst to him threatens to unwind his entire psyche in allowing himself to care about something. Fanon!Alastor, far from being image-obsessed with a need to be constantly in the limelight, is capable of being subtle, fading into the background when it benefits him.

I could go on, but I'm just tired. It hurts me that, come release, fan works which I enjoy making and reading will be expected to comply with this. I don't want to write Alastor this way. I don't want to be told I'm writing him 'wrong' for not doing it. I hope that in some way the earlier fanons are preserved and kept alive even as canon is polluted with all this slop.

It's sad and exhausting, for sure. It also doesn't help that the standom will attack you pretty viciously if you have the audacity to prefer the pilot to the actual series.

[crownmemes]

Flirting Sentences, Vol. 4

(Sentences for flirting muses, with varying levels of brashness. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Aren't you a little naughty sometimes?"

"Too much for a first date?"

"There is nothing sexier in the whole world than a beautiful woman with an incredible gun."

"I've been warned to watch out for women like you."

"Do you have to work tonight? I don't."

"I like being alone with you."

"Aren't you the cutest little thing when you're being shy?"

"How would you feel about going out to dinner with me tonight?"

"Half the men in this room wish you were on their arm tonight."

"I've been in trouble since the moment we met."

"It occurs to me that I don't know the first thing about you."

"I assume I can look forward to another visit in the near future?"

"You're pretty cute, you know that?"

"I adore you with that slightly dishevelled look."

"I think you're kind of wonderful."

"I get off work in an hour. If you can wait to eat, I'll show you the best meal in the city."

"You don't do a very good job of hiding your interest."

"Want to get drunk and fool around?"

"I bet you're a good kisser."

"What do you propose to do in way of entertaining your handsome guest tonight?"

"You've got a smutty mind!"

"I'd like to kiss you goodbye."

"I didn't know you were so easily seduced!"

"May I say something personal? I like you."

"If I was a dessert, what kind of dessert would I be?"

"What is it about me that you find so irresistible?"

"Tell me I'm pretty."

[botchedsundoll]

L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; christmas hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none! pure fluff

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; ho ho ho merry christmas idc if its nov its christmas time… do ppl drink on christmas? we do so idek? icl this is all like stuff i made up bcos i don’t celebrate christmas like this but wtv we roll #wesołychświąt

C. OLIVEIRA

do not let this man near the kitchen. everything that can go wrong goes WRONG

ask him to take something out the oven, he drops it. ask him to stir something in the bowl he stirs too vigorously and it goes flying all over the counters

he’s a pain. he’s distracting. constantly getting infront of you with the mistletoe, thinking he’s slick by trying to sneak in kisses. constantly sneaking bites of food whenever he thinks you’re not looking (you are, and you smack his hands away with a spoon)

one thing he’s actually good at and enjoys is cookie decorating. he’ll make little gingerbread men of you two and make them so damn detailed. makes one for jill too, though with less care and her face ends up a bit… strange

he’s THAT person which is always ringing everyone, friends and family, wishing them a merry christmas and sends them stupid gifs slavic babcias love so much (if u dont know what i mean then☹️)

LOVES the whole aspect of the christmas tree yet hates putting it together, it pisses him off to no end and half way through ends up calling you over to help him… definitely picks you up so that you can put the star on top

if he gets an ugly christmas sweater you best believe he’s wearing it for the full day, no shame

L. KENNEDY

depends which leon we’re talking about

younger leon puts in more effort, older leon genuinely can’t be fucked to do much

walks around with a trash bag when everyone’s opening presents so there’s no mess on the floor

your guys’ house is literally the christmas function. every year. mostly due to you inviting everyone round and deciding to host it, much to leon’s annoyance but he doesn’t mind THAT much since he loves you!!

definitely the best gift giver. for some damn reason he just knows what everyone wants, genuinely no explanation for it. he just does

he’s such a sweetheart, constantly asking you if you need help with anything in the kitchen or whether you need him to pop to the store for anything

he 100% sang carols when he was younger. just imagine 7 year old leon, hair gelled back, button up shirt, stood infront of the tv singing carols (lets pretend he didn’t have all that trauma okay)… get him to sing again, he might cave once he’s drunk enough with chris

on the topic of chris, something ALWAYS happens when the pair have had a few and aren’t sober any longer. something always gets broken for some reason

one year, they randomly got up and started dancing. leon went flying into the christmas tree and took it down with him.

i hc him as having a rather large sweet tooth, so he’s always down for some cookie decorating! it’s rather sloppy and they end up looking questionable most of the time, but he ends up eating half of them before he’s even fully finished decorating so that’s not much of a problem anyways

C. REDFIELD

santa. need i say more?

nag him constantly to wear a santa outfit or atleast a santa hat. he will cave eventually

DEFINITELY gets a wallet for christmas every damn year without fail, yet doesn’t even use the damn wallets

him in the kitchen helping you out is definitely… something. he doesn’t know how to measure - what the fuck is a cup?

you asked him to help you out and stuff the turkey. he walked out the kitchen.

gets claire shitty gifts on purpose but then gives her her ACTUAL gift. they’re siblings after all, he can’t help it, old habits die hard

hates decorating the outside of the house. it’s his nightmare. all the stupid lights, just no

goes CRAZY on your gift. it’s like a little reward for all the effort you go through every year, and it’s always something you wanted badly and doesn’t fail to put a smile on your face

he’s not necessarily a fan of sweet things, but hot chocolate? that’s a completely different story entirely, you end up having to send him to buy milk since he drank the whole damn carton and there’s none left by the time you get around to actually preparing for dinner

like leon, sits there with a trash bag. he gives such dad vibes i can’t stop imagining it

him and leon ultimate christmas duo after a few drinks. all of a sudden chris is in the biggest christmas spirit ever and can’t get last christmas out his head

best thing is? he’s not even too big on christmas. he actually celebrates it just because of you, what a sweetheart

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

Um ok guys I wrote something to post??? I’m scared bc this kinda sucks but I’ve been writing a lot of random stuff for Patrick and I finally feel ok enough about this fic to publish it i guess 😭😭 this is not really proofread or edited much, so yeah 😭😭

Patrick Zweig x Reader, 1.4k words (Art is also mentioned), and they’re all around college age.

Childhood best friends, mutual pining, fluff, first kiss/admission of feelings, and all of the things.

TW for drinking/alcohol use

Patrick had been one of your closest friends since kindergarten, and ever since you two had met, you were attached at the hip. Even after Patrick had gone off to Mark Rebelatto’s Tennis Academy, even though you didn’t see each other as much, he always made sure to text and surprise you whenever he was home. As you both grew up, you watched Patrick change- he went from the goofy kid with big ears to a tall, and honestly hot guy. And he was well aware of it. Everywhere you went, you saw how he acted- he was so sure of himself, so cocky, and he acted brash and loud. But you knew him better than that.

When it was just the two of you, Patrick was gentle and sweet. He had always been touchy, somehow always managing to go from across the couch to having his arm around you on your movie nights. He was just like that with his friends, totally.

Throughout your friendship, he was always there to protect you; he always kept you close during your parent’s parties, knowing that you didn’t like events and social gatherings the way he did. He always guided you everywhere and took over conversations when he could tell that you didn’t feel like talking. His hand on your waist, he would guide you through the crowds, always making sure you were close to him. He could see right through you, and somehow in these times he understood exactly what you needed. Ever so often, he would slip his hand into yours and give it a tight squeeze to comfort you. This was just your routine, and you knew that Patrick was the only reason why you still agreed to go to these events.

Patrick had always been there for you. He came home from boarding school just for the weekend to take you to your senior prom, he came over and helped you pack for college, and he never forgot to call. Your relationship with him was so perfect… But there was just one problem.

You were in love with your best friend. And you watched him go on dates, sleep with girls, and you knew that he just didn’t want you like that. Every time he would pull you close, hold your hand, or cuddle you on the couch, you just had to remember that this was just his personality. He could get any girl he wanted, and you two were just meant to be friends.

You were good at holding your feelings in, terrified of disturbing the perfect relationship you had with Patrick- you couldn’t risk losing it all over a crush.

—--

Tonight was just like any other night with Patrick and Art- you were all hanging out in Patrick’s living room, drinking random cocktails Pat had mixed up for you, and watching a movie. The three of you were apart most of the year- you in college on the east coast, Art at Stanford, and Patrick just traveling around playing pro tennis. So every summer, you made sure to hang out at least a couple times all together, usually just getting drunk and talking about everything and nothing.

The three of you were lounging in the living room watching some stupid horror movie that none of you really cared about. You and Patrick were on opposite sides of the couch, and Art was comfy on the armchair next to you guys. As the movie progressed, the three of you got drunker, and you started to feel more hazy- so when Patrick pulled you into his arms, holding you as you two watched the movie, you couldn’t help but nuzzle closer into him, melting into his touch. While you two cuddling was nothing new, this was different: it felt a little more sweet and intimate than normal.

You whispered to him, “Hey, I missed you while I was at college”, closing your eyes, tired from the drinking.

Patrick’s face turned red when you whispered that, and he looked away. It wasn’t fair of you to be sweet like that when he was trying so hard to not lean in and kiss you. You understood Patrick in a way that no one else did, and you were the only person he could be completely vulnerable with. He was different with you than with everyone else, and he loved to care for you. Since late in high school, he had been desperate to tell you that he wanted you, but he couldn’t lose you. The commitment was terrifying, and also, Patrick wasn’t even sure if you wanted him that way. So, he had carried that with him for years- but he still couldn’t help himself from needing you close, and he couldn’t stop himself when he cupped your face with his hand, and tilted your head up at him.

“I missed you too”, he whispered. It was already hard for him to not confess to you while he was sober, but now that he was tipsy, it felt almost impossible to keep his words from spilling out. You two locked eyes for a moment, and the way he looked at you felt almost unreal. He looked at you like you were some sort of angel, his eyes filled with an adoration and sweetness that was so unlike the Patrick Zweig you were familiar with.

After a moment, he looked away, his face turning slightly red. Feeling bold, you nuzzled your face back into the crook of his neck, just wanting to be closer. You knew that you would regret being this obvious in the morning- he was just drunk, he probably didn’t actually love you- but you couldn’t help yourself. He held you tighter in his arms as the movie played, and the night got later.

At this point, Art had fallen asleep on the armchair- and as soon as he opened his eyes, he smiled and announced that he was going to bed- this movie sucked anyways. He looked at you and Patrick curled into each other, and he didn’t even seem surprised- he knew how much Patrick liked you, even if Patrick tried to hide it. So, he went upstairs, leaving the two of you on the couch. You both were silent for a couple minutes, unsure if you should say anything. Patrick pretended to be into the movie, but all he could think about was you in his arms.

He whispered your name, looking into your eyes as you glanced up at him. You saw him glance down at your lips and then staring back up at you, and he looked more nervous than you had ever seen him. His hand cupped your face gently, as he whispered, “is this ok?”. You nodded, holding back a small smile as he leaned in and kissed you.

The kiss felt natural for the two of you- like it was something you had done a million times before. Patrick couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, barely believing that he was actually, finally kissing you. Patrick had been dreaming of this moment for years, even though he would never admit it.

He pulled away from your lips gently, pressing small, sweet kisses all over your jaw. You laugh softly as he moves his hands from your face and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You closed your eyes, the lateness of the night sinking in. You felt so relaxed and content as Patrick continued to press soft kisses down your neck.

You both eventually laid down on the couch, Patrick’s arm slung across your waist as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Your drunkenness took over and the world spun around you, but Patrick’s strong arms around you made you feel held in place. You drifted off to sleep, trying to avoid thinking about what things would be like in the morning- because for now, you were happy.

Patrick’s hand rubbed lazy circles into your back as he held you close to him, and felt his stomach twisting with anxiety and happiness, his heart beating faster as he pulled you tighter. He heard your breathing slow down as you fell asleep against him, and he wished to himself for this moment to never end.

Patrick eventually fell asleep against you, and he held you tight for the rest of the night.

[crowleysgirl56]

IT’S FINALLY HERE SQUIRRELS!

OMG I’ve been biting my nails for weeks on how he is going to react. Already from the thumbnail we can guess that he is not happy and has reacted the exact same way as us.

So let’s dive into my highlights of his reactions. As always, under the cut to avoid spoilers. Here we go.

- Already from Danny’s opening monologue he’s guessed exactly how most of this episode will go in terms of plot beat and story structure. But it is clear he doesn’t know about the 90 minute finale.

- Love how Danny’s immediate response to Crowley’s heaven disguise is “You’ve only made him hotter!” Funnily enough he mentions “it looks like he invented whiskey”. Funny considering David Tennant did that add for whiskey…

- Danny is everyone when he heavily sighs when Maggie accidentally invites the demons in.

- Danny finally gets his payoff about the fly being the key.

- About Beelzebub and Gabriel. He so casually says “I kinda want them to fall in love and I’ll murder anyone who disagrees with me”. Yeah, well…at least ONE angel and demon couple got to do that and go off together! I also love how within 6 minutes he is 100% invested in their relationship.

- “David Forgettit. Azirawho”. HOW DARE YOU SIR!

- Good Omens fandom: deep dives into why no one recognises The Metatron when he’s in his corporal form. Danny when the Metatron enters the books shop: Who’s this guy? Is this God? Did they recast God?! (Crowley then says the last time he saw him he was a big floating head) Oh it’s Zordon! Proving that, yep, it is THAT simply to trick everyone, no deep dives necessary.

- Danny points out Muriel is holding the Crow Road, but then doesn’t try to deep dive into why that’s important. And yeah, if you didn’t know what that book is it doesn’t really mean anything, but looking back at that scene, it is framed so deliberately that it HAS to mean something.

- And now we finally get to it. Danny’s ENTIRE journey of reacting to the final fifteen. I could devote an entire post to everything that he says and does. The clutching of his chest and chair, the pleading of David Tennant to stop being such a great actor, his joy and heartbreak and yelling of “THEY KISSING!”, the depths of despair of wanting to start up smoking, to getting really drunk even though it’s 11am, and to becoming addicted to cocaine. WE. ARE. ALL. STILL. THERE. MY FRIEND!

- It’s funny how Danny went from being such an advocate for Aziraphale this entire time to just holding his head in his hands exclaiming “what the fuck I can’t even, I can’t even, why would you do that?” right at the very end.

Danny’s whole reaction is interesting in that it’s such an immediate reaction, he doesn’t have the luxury like us who have spent the last year and a bit overanalysing everything with a fine tooth comb. Because it’s almost like, maybe that is how we should be reacting? Love to hear everyone’s thoughts on this and his reaction.

And that’s the end. Hopefully he will react to the final 90 minutes once it’s released. What a journey. Now, I really feel like I need to rewatch the entire show over again.

[writealongnowdear]

Love me Like a Sailor

Arthur Morgan x Captain!Reader

Summary: John is a little brother. The Konstantina prepares to set sail. Arthur is nervous with a side of pathetic.

A/N: Classes got me FUCKED UP and I'm sick. I hope you enjoy tho ❤️❤️

Part 1

☆☆☆☆☆

When Arthur rode back into camp, he could feel eyes on him. It made his skin prickle, the way that it always did when someone was watching.

He hitched up his horse, boots hitting the ground as he brushed up her sides and let his head rest against her neck for just a moment. He had to gather himself - wouldn't be able to look anyone in the eye if he didn't.

Morgana whinnied, brushing against him almost compassionately. Arthur snorted, patting her a few times and feeding her a sugar cube.

“Quit your worryin’, girl,” he muttered. “Don't need my damn horse on my case, too.”

Everyone else was gathered around the campfire tonight. It was cool out, fall on the air and rain on the horizon. He'd have to make sure that they were ready for the storm.

A heady laugh reached his ears, unmistakable. Arthur grimaced, looking up from under the brim of his hat.

“How was it?” John asked teasingly, immediately after laying eyes on him. Arthur glared, walking past him.

“I ain't in the mood, Marston,” he gruffed. With a huff, he grabbed a bottle of beer from Pearson's wagon and uncapped it. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a long sip that elicited a whistle from John.

“Cmon now, it can't have been that bad,” he said, shit-eating grin twisting his scarred features. Arthur grimaced.

“It wasn't, asshole,” he said, blush rising to his cheeks. “I got us a deal.”

John wiggled his eyebrows, making him look even more like the child that he was.

“Oh really? What kind of deal are we talkin-”

“Shut up, Marston.”

John laughed again, grabbing a beer for himself and clapping Arthur on the shoulder. He stood next to Arthur, watching the camp go by in silence for a moment.

“What is the deal then?” He asked eventually. Arthur shrugged, rolling his shoulders and taking another swig of his beer.

“They need extra protection. In return they'll pay us or peddle for us.”

John nodded, digging in the dirt with the tip of his boot. He always did that when he was thinking.

“What's the catch?”

Arthur sighed, rubbing his eyes. That's what he'd been trying to figure out.

“Don't know yet. But with how things are going, we ain't got time to wonder about it.”

“Amen, brother,” John snorted.

The two sat in comfortable silence. The sun had just started to set, purple and orange splashing across the lake and its shores. Arthur itched for his pencil.

And he thought of you.

☆☆☆☆☆

The ride went quickly. Charles and Javier were fast riders, always ready to run.

Van Horn was just as it always was - quiet and unassuming but for the drunks retching outside the saloon. It was an early morning; the sun was barely rising on the horizon.

The Konstantina was moored where it was last time he'd visited, almost a week ago. There was a man on watch at what Arthur thought was the bow. As they rode their horses in and tied them up, his eyes flashed over the main deck. He caught a glimpse of your silk shined hair, his heart skipping a beat.

“S'that it?” Javier asked, coming to stand next to Arthur. His bag was slung over one shoulder, his other hand coming to rest on his belt. Arthur nodded.

“The one and only.”

Javier snorted. He clapped Arthur's shoulder and shuffled his boots in the sand. Charles fell onto his other side, sighing out a breath and squinting at the boat.

“Not what I expected,” he murmured. Arthur shrugged.

“Gets the job done, doesn't it?”

Soon enough, all three men were stepping aboard the boat. The watchman on the bow greeted them, asking them to wait while he got the captain.

Javier lit up a cigarette, sitting on top of a crate. He passed it to Charles who took it with a hum of thanks.

“I'm excited to meet this captain of yours,” Javier said, leaning forward with a glint in his dark eyes. “John said she was something else.”

“John says a lot of things,” Arthur said as easily as he could manage. Charles huffed, passing the cigarette back. “Ain't none of them smart.”

“He said she had you whipped six ways to Sunday,” Charles said, crossing his arms but gesturing one of his hands at Arthur with a raised eyebrow. Arthur felt himself blush, and thanked the darkness of the early morning for hiding it.

“I don't even know what that means,” Arthur grumbled, pouting. Charles laughed, Javier slapping the man's broad shoulder with a mischievous grin.

“I bet you wish you did, though.”

Arthur glared at both men as they laughed. He was about to open his mouth and defend himself, but he cut himself off when he saw you approaching.

Your outfit was a far cry from when he last saw you; baggy cotton pants and a button up shirt that somehow hid the swell of your chest. Your hair, which was usually left long, was braided tightly and pinned methodically around your head save for a few strands in the front. When you fastened your captain's hat on your head, he couldn't tell that you were a woman at all.

Despite that, his heart still felt like it was going to beat out of his chest if he looked at you for any longer. He could've chuckled at the humor in it. Even dressed as a man, the sweep of your long eyelashes along your cheeks still made his breath hitch. The curve of your mouth still made him want to tear his hair out.

Catching the stunned glances of Charles and Javier, Arthur shrugged and cleared his throat. Their shock quickly passed, but their obvious amusement did not.

“Arthur,” Javier said in the same tone of voice that Abigail used to scold Jack.

“What?!”

“Gentlemen!” You exclaimed, greeting them with the same upbeat attitude you always seemed to have. “Welcome aboard! We're pleased to have you.”

Charles nodded, a slight smile on his face as he introduced himself and Javier, who moved forward to shake your hand. His eye flicked back to Arthur with a lazy grin that betrayed his mischievous curiosity.

“Pleasure's ours,” Javier said. “Cigarette?”

You hummed in assent, taking the cigarette between two fingers and inhaling a drag of it. Arthur stared as you let the smoke pool out of your mouth in waves.

“So you're the infamous Caspian that Arthur's been talking about?” Javier said, his charm turned up all the way. Arthur sighed heavily.

“That's Captain Caspian, to you,” you said with a wink, dissolving into laughter soon after. “For better or worse that is.”

“S'that why you're dressed like that?” Charles said bluntly, gesturing to your outfit. Javier slapped his shoulder with a venomous “Cabrón!” hissed under his breath. You smooth out the wrinkles of your shirt with a raised eyebrow.

“Sailing ain't a woman's work,” you say.

“Neither is smuggling.”

“Can't have one without the other, Mr. Smith.”

“...I suppose that's true.”

���It's better like this anyway,” you say. “Navy would be onto us in seconds if I dressed normally.”

The small talk continued as your cigarette burned down between your fingers. Arthur couldn't comprehend your words, but he figured that was okay - if it was important he'd ask you to repeat yourself and that wouldn't be so bad. He could listen to your voice like one of Dutch's terrible records.

“So, what's the route?” Charles asked, kicking Arthur's boot and forcing his attention back on the conversation.

“It'll be short - we should be in port by supper tomorrow night,” you said. “We sail from here to Saint Denis, which is where we'll drop you boys off.”

“Thought it would be longer,” Javier muttered, itching around his mustache in thought.

“Think of this as a trial run,” you said. With a shrug and a sigh you stamp out your cigarette and lay your hands on your belt. “If it goes well, we can go longer.”

Arthur nodded along, trying not to let his eyes catch on the way your hands looked clutched on your belt and failing miserably. The way he always stood, the way every man stood… it looked damn near erotic on you.

“Mr. Morgan?” You asked, jolting him once again from his pathetic thoughts. His eyes snapped to yours, meeting your amused face. “You've been awfully quiet.”

“Was just thinking,” he said, scowling. Charles snorted.

“That's new.”

“Don't hurt yourself.”

You laughed at Charles and Javier's responses, only laughing harder when you caught a look at Arthur's glare. He crossed his arms and sat back against the railing of the deck, hat falling over his brow.

“Har har,” he said. “My brand of thinking is always the least likely to get us killed.”

“Oh, really? Care to enlighten us?” You ask, clearly teasing him now because what else could he possibly be thinking about.

There wasn't any time to think about robbing and stealing and killing when he could be thinking about your hips, the swell of them and how they would give under his hands. Your eyes, how pretty they would look filled with tears of pleasure. He could be thinking about the way that your lips would form his name, and if your voice would crack with love around the vowels. Or how soft your hands would be if he got to hold them, and how the skin of your back would feel pressed against his chest after-

“Tomorrow,” Arthur said, hands fisted tight in his lap. “I was just thinking about tomorrow.”

He looked up to see your eyes soften, fondness clouding the color of your eyes. He's sure that the smile spilling across his lips is one that John would describe as dopey, but he finds that he doesn't give a damn.

Because now? All he's thinking about is how he can make you his the way that he's already yours.

☆☆☆☆☆

Bbg, this is for you @johnnysilverhandeeznuts

[seeker-ophelia]

Ophelia’s Review, Part Two: Thedas, The Dragon Age System

Some things I need to get off my chest.

One. This does not feel like a Dragon Age game.

Two. That doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.

Three. I have a lot of feelings right now but I’ll come back when my brain has re-hydrated itself.

(I finished Veilguard at 10PM on Monday, and wrote this the morning after. And its still true, 5 days later.)

TLDR at the bottom

[Read Part 1 Here]

I do miss the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events games.

[Photo Cred: Dumped, Drunk & Dalish]

Because Veilguard is missing all of that.

Listen, it’s good. Great even. I loved it. Cried. Laughed. Dropped my controller and paced around the room for 5 minutes in anger and angst. Drank a bottle of wine in the bathtub after Solavellan’s happy ending (and my Rooks sad one). But this is not a Dragon Age game.

It is Dragon Age ADJACENT. Similar of course. The backbone is there. The direction, the vector, is there. But the execution…

Dragon Age (Origins through Inquisition) for me, was A Song of Ice and Fire. I love that series.

It was deep. It was harsh. It was MEAN. If offered me hope and then snatched it away. The world-building, the lore crafting, was intense and deep and required attention and critical thought. The characters were nuanced and troubled and real.

Veilguard, for me, is Eragon.

I also loved that series. It is pure and good and takes me on a journey through a fantastical land of dragons and heroes, of good versus evil, of mysteries and magic. But, it is juvenile. Its simple. It doesn’t try to be anything other than it is. Veilguard, is shallow.

The essence is there, beneath the surface Veil, pressing and bursting at the seams to escape, but is being held back by a gentrification of Thedas, the Tranquility of the Dragon Age world, if you would.

The Lore

I don’t want to go into to much about it (its going to be its own post, I think), but I love the lore of Dragon Age. I love learning about it. I love the questions, the pervasive theme that history is only as true as the historians who write it; things get lost, muddled, confused through and over time. And Veilguard, kind of feels like I’m being spoonfed? Like I’m a baby.

I think EA did BioWare a disservice by making this game for new players, instead of assuming that RPG players have the intelligence and wherewithal to comprehend at least a little bit of lore and history, or at the very least, introduce a cannon world state. You can have your cake and eat it to, but, as Veilguard shows, it diminishes the quality of the cake as a whole.

This game is an Action RPG. This is a game about combat. For the record, the first, second, third, 17th time I saw my Rook in their Takedown Animation, I said, out loud, ‘Dragon Age, G.O.T.Y.’ I swore at my inability to time dodges properly, I planned and schemed with primers and detonators and damage types. This is very reminiscent of The Witcher and Assassins Creed, for me (I have not played a ton of games, im sure there are others more like it). It was fun, it was challenging. But. This is not Dragon Age. Its Something Else™.

Dragon Age: Dark Origins

When people say Dragon Age is a dark game, they’re not talking about the gameplay, or the graphics, or the art direction.

Dragon Age deals with dark subject matter. Slavery. Racism. Religion. Politics. Power dynamics. Mages versus Templars. Addiction. Death. War. An unstoppable contagion that deals death indiscriminately. THAT’S what makes Dragon Age Dark.

These stories are deep. They’re hard. And yeah, they weren’t always handled properly (lookin’ at you, Gaider), but doing something wrong… looks like it might actually be better than pretending it doesn’t exist.

As a Sollavellan, I’m unspeakably glad they didn’t yassify Solas. He is still an unlikable character who has committed unspeakable war crimes. And we got a redemption arc that did not end in death. That’s a win for me.

But they kept his darkness at the expense of lightening literally EVERYTHING ELSE in Thedas.

What the fuck happened to Zevran’s Crows? I got the Puss-in-Boots-Found-Family Assassin Agency.

Where are the slaves in Minrathous? Where’s the trip to the upper city, gilded and clean, so we can compare it to the slums of Dock Town (which was not bad at all). Where is the “Rescue the Rabbits” Quest? Tevene Politics boils down to Dorian or Mave, “bad” or “good,” change from within, or power to the people.

The whole Qunari are just Bad™ now? The Antaam warriors turned into… what the fuck is even that? You know the advertising theory where women’s bodies are shown but not their heads or faces? This feels like that. Giant Grey Muscular Powerful Bodies with NoFace. THAT’S the Antaam? The Tamassrins really eliminate every embodiment of individuality from them? They’re just Storm Troopers?

And ‘Thal’enaste, what a lost plot thread to not have Lace and Solas meet in the deep roads, or Kal-Sharok, or fucking anywhere. Instead, you give her one little blurb of “companion banter.” Weak.

Where’s the racism towards the Elves? What happened to that? What happened to Dark Thedas? Oh, its actually all in the South, and thats destroyed now (lets put a pin in that for a minute).

The Companions

I have written and re-written this section 3 times. Its too long. I don’t need to mention them all. How to summarize them.

If you read my part 1, you’ll remember how I fell in love with Dragon Age 2, years after its release (after playing Inquisition, in fact), and how I fucking hard I fell for those very real, very troubled, very nuanced characters.

Anders and his quest for freedom, Fenris and his quest for vengeance. Merrill and her quest for knowledge, Isabella and her quest for… other cultures relics, I guess?

I hated the graphics in 2. It was the characters that carried that game. I don’t know how BioWare wrote them, but they failed to do that in VG.

My favourite character in Inquisition? Surprisingly, its not Solas. Its not even Cole, or the Iron Bull, or Dorian.

Its Cassandra.

I love her. Her story is SO complex. Her devotion to the Seekers, to the Andrastian Faith, is so pure, yet it does not impede her friendship with a Dalish elf who believes in gods that she does not. It does not stop her form forming close bonds with other people from different backgrounds, and although she is fearless in calling out the darkness in her own faith, its sins and its rot, she admits to her Herald that she is envious of the Heralds conviction.

Which character in Veilguard has that nuance?

The necromancer afraid of death? The Elvhen Engineer with ADHD? The literal Demon of Vyantium Puss-In-Boots? The smirking detective? The questioning Qunari? Or the gruff monster daddy?

Listen. I read trash. Smut, romantasy... I read objectively bad literature, for fun, all the time. And, I have a fantastic imagination. It is my own personal fleshing out of theses characters that saved me in this game.

But I should not have had to do that.

The Keep

I cannot explain to you, in words, how important those one-off codices and cameos are.

(Don’tThinkAboutIsabela Don’tThinkAboutIsabela Don’tThinkAboutIsabela).

*Grimaces* Okay.

I can speak no more about this. I am already writing a “Keep” DLC for Veilguard.

I would have rather lived in your world state than this abomination. Which leads me to…

‘The Soft Reboot’

So. The South is Gone. That’s the answer. The Hero of Ferelden. Hawke and their siblings. Everything is wiped clean, just as EA asked. All of the South, turned to the Hissings Wastes and the Anderfels, because of the Blight and the hubris of the Gods. What a tragedy. DA5 looks likes its overseas. Cool.

You know what would have been a better reboot?

Spite, taking over Lucanis’ body, walking through the Ossuary, or the catacombs of Minrathous, explaining to Rook how the heavy emotions of People manifest in the fade. The birth of a spirit. Or a demon.

Taash, meeting a spirit face to face in Arlathan, recoiling in disgust, until they help the spirit on its journey, and Taash begins to question their whole worldview surrounding demons. I- I mean spirits.

Emmerich, taking Rook on a lecture-walk through the fade, meeting spirits, solving puzzles, ‘you know, its not so bad in here, what’s the big deal?’

Bellara, instead of discovering Cyrian only to lose him, meets the demon formed of his death, and how to help him back into a spirit.

Neve, following a trail of wisps in the fade, learning things, memories, feelings, songs. Neve, reveling in the pure beauty of the wisps, until they lead her to Vir Dirthara, and her eyes grow wide, what is this place?

Davrin and Assan, after hard training in the High Anderfels, take a break, and while Rook and Davrin flirt, or joke, Assan finds a long string, and begins to play, the string growing and lengthening and thickening until a soft, feminine whisper fills the air, I Am So Sorry… And Rook and Davrin meet a strange spirit, a perfect combination of protection and regret, and they help her find her way home.

Harding, palms flat on the stone, pushing, working, threading her magic into a titan, tilting her face up to Rook, eyes shining blue, speaking in a thousand voices at once, let me show you what was lost, and for a millisecond, we FEEL Isatunoll.

The Dwarvhen was tranquil’d from their Memories, but the Elvhen were tranquil’d from the Fade.

And when Solas turns from Rook in Minrathous, I am sorry for this final betrayal, he is puzzled at the lack of retaliation, and turns to see the Veilguard, standing behind Rook, eyes locked on the giant eye-shaped rift in the sky.

Why are you not stopping me? He asks the group of misfits.

And Rook answers, I can admit when I was wrong. Tear it the fuck down.

And Solas, battered, bruised, and bloody, smiles, brandishes his ritual dagger with a flashy flip, banishes the blight, and tears down the Veil.

When I learned there were only going to be 3 choices carried over from the rest of the series into Veilguard, I tagged my complaint posts with something.

#You Cannot Dangle A Carrot In Front Of Me For 10 Years And Then Not Be Surprised At My Anger In Discovering It Was A Painted Dowel

Let me reiterate. I enjoyed this game. It was fun for me. I’m in the middle of my second playthrough and am planning a third, and a fourth. But this is NOT a Dragon Age game.

This is an EA game. And its good. But it could have been everything.

Bellanaris.

TLDR;

How torn I feel; lobotomized, rendered tranquil, separated from the memories, lore, and spirits, of the old Dragon Age, while still, like the Veilguard, wanting this world to endure.

Var lath vir suledin, BioWare.

For now.