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weemssapphic · 1 year ago

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Lipstick Stains - Pt. 17

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Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: you finally get a chance to paint Larissa (smut ensues).

words: ~ 3.1k | ao3 link in title

A/N: once again thank you to @afeatherformills for all of the planning and beta-ing, and to my gf as well. i drive both of them crazy and am eternally grateful that they haven't yet told me to stick this fic where the sun don't shine :')

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

That Saturday you were deep in thought as you navigated the halls of Nevermore, making your way to Larissa’s office. So deep in thought that you hardly noticed Enid walking past you.

“Hey!”

Your head snapped up and you looked around for the source of the voice. Finding it, your face softened and you stepped towards the blonde. “Enid. You okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, her face falling a bit. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks for convincing Weems not to expel us.”

You laughed. “I didn’t have to convince her of anything. Is she really that stern?”

Enid’s lips curled up into a smile. “Sometimes. She can be really cool, but sometimes she’s a bit scary.”

“I’m sure it’s just because she cares,” you replied - truth be told you’d seen Larissa’s ‘scary’ side in action when dealing Wednesday, and you could certainly understand Enid’s point. But as long as Larissa’s anger wasn’t directed at you, you thought your girlfriend was kind of hot when she was angry - a fact you decided to keep to yourself.

“Maybe.” Enid shrugged. “Say hi to Weems for me.”

“Sure,” you replied, feeling yourself blush. As you were about to say goodbye, you were struck with an idea. “Wait.”

You reached into your bag, with Enid watching you curiously as you pulled out your sketchbook and flipped to a random page, scribbling your number on it and tearing it out.

“Here. If you guys are in trouble again, you should have someone to call.” She took the paper with a shy smile. “I’m never going back out there again. But… thanks.” Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she entered your number and shot you a text. “Now you have mine, too.”

“Thanks. Stay safe, Enid,” you teased gently, earning yourself a giggle from the young girl.

~~~

“Come in,” called Larissa’s smooth voice as you knocked on her office door minutes later.

You did as you were told, closing and locking the door behind you. The sound of the lock clicking was not lost on Larissa, who looked up from her laptop with a smirk plastered on her face.

“Hello, darling,” she purred, her fingers pausing in their frantic typing as she waited for you to cross the room, drop the large canvas bag you were holding, and give her a kiss. “Pretty girl,” she mumbled against your lips as she pulled you onto her lap. Deepening the kiss, she flicked her tongue against yours, drawing a breathy moan from your throat which she swallowed eagerly. Her hands came to rest on your thighs, rubbing circles overtop your trousers as her breathing became more shallow.

You chuckled into the kiss, pulling back reluctantly - Larissa let out a little whine, pouting slightly as she stilled her hands in their movements.

“Rissa…” you whined playfully, wrapping her arms around her neck. “I wanted to paint you while we still have some natural sunlight.”

“Mmm, I know, I know.” Larissa sighed, resting her forehead against yours and sliding her hands up to your waist. “Just tell me what you want from me, I’m all yours today.”

“Thank you.” You smirked, pressing a kiss to her cheek and whispering in her ear - you didn’t miss the shiver that ran down her spine as your warm breath hit the side of her neck. “I actually had an idea for what I wanted to do, may I ask you to accompany me to your bedroom?”

Larissa threw her head back as she laughed, squeezing your waist. When her laughter died down and she locked eyes with you once more, you were met with amusement and desire in equal measure. “Lead the way,” she replied with a smirk as you slid off her lap and held a hand out for her to take, grabbing your bag with the other hand.

She placed her palm in your own and stood, following you to her quarters and straight into her bedroom. “And what will you have me do in here?”

“Well I noticed that the light that comes in here in the early afternoon would be perfect for painting you.” You placed the bag you were carrying at the foot of the bed and looked around the room, your eyes falling to Larissa’s vanity. “Can I move this?”

Larissa chuckled, eyeing you curiously. “That’s fine…” She helped you clear it and drag it to the end of the bed, then sat down at the edge of the bed, kicking her heels off and watching you set up your tabletop easel, a canvas, and your paints. “And how will you have me pose? Would you like me naked in my bed?” she asked playfully.

“You know I would never object to having you naked in your bed,” you teased back, watching Larissa blush, her lips curling up into a shy smile as her gaze dropped to her lap. Once you were satisfied with your set-up, you stepped in front of Larissa, placing a finger underneath her chin and lifting it until her gaze met yours. “I was thinking we could get rid of some of these clothes though…”

You gave Larissa’s collar a playful tug, receiving an eye-roll and a fake-annoyed huff in return. With a soft smirk playing on her lips, she undid the belt of her dress, then the top buttons, then tugged it over her head, dropping it onto the floor.

“This too.” You snapped the strap of her bra - she reached behind herself, unhooking her bra and tossing it onto the dress.

“And let me help you with these.” You hooked your fingers under the waistband of her underwear, never breaking eye contact as you dragged them down her legs. You could see her lips part, her tongue darting out to wet them as she spread her legs open for you. When you dropped the underwear to the floor and stood again, you found yourself standing in between her thighs. Larissa’s hands came to rest on your hips, her eyelashes fluttering as her gaze flicked down your body.

“You know it’s more than a little unfair that you’re still fully clothed, darling,” she husked, watching you with doe eyes.

“Yeah? I can change that.” You stripped yourself of your own clothing under Larissa’s hungry gaze, tossing the garments onto the growing pile. “This better?”

“A little.” Larissa bit her lip. “I know something else that could help.” You raised an eyebrow as Larissa stood from the bed, towering over you as she straightened to her full height. Grabbing hold of your waist, she spun you around and pushed you back onto the bed before crawling on top of you and looking down at you. “Much better,” she purred.

Smirking, you reached down to grab the backs of her thighs. “If you want to be on top so bad you only have to ask,” you teased. “You know what I’ve been wanting to try?”

“Hmm?”

“Having you sit on my face.” You gave the backs of her thighs an insistent tug. “Interested?”

Larissa let out a little groan, leaning down to capture your lips in a lustful kiss.

“Is that a yes?”

You couldn’t help but grin as Larissa rolled her eyes, shifting so that her bare pussy was hovering over your face, her plush thighs bracketing your head. “Yes, that is a yes, darling.” Her entrance glistened with her arousal, the scent of which was already beginning to drive you mad. You wrapped your arms around her thighs, pressing soft kisses to her skin that caused her to let out little whimpers.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you breathed - she began to lower herself onto your waiting tongue, which immediately traced a path up her slit. “Fuck, you taste amazing.”

Larissa’s hips found a good rhythm, rolling against your face and matching the pace of your tongue as it circled her throbbing clit. Loud, breathy moans fell from her lips as she cupped her own breasts and rubbed her palms roughly over her nipples. From this angle it was hard to see her face as she tilted her head back, losing herself in pleasure, so you focused on the sounds of her moans and the lewd noises of your tongue against her wet cunt, on the feeling of her smooth thighs under your hands, on the sight of her tits bouncing slightly with every buck of her hips.

“Mmm you look so good touching yourself like that,” you moaned against her pussy, allowing your tongue to explore her folds before slipping it into her entrance. Her walls clenched around you and her hips stuttered slightly in their movements as she stammered out a breathy reply.

“Y-you feel so good…”

“Look at me,” you commanded, waiting until Larissa’s eyes - dark and hooded - were on you before thrusting your tongue into her hole, as deep as you could. You could see her cheeks flush and her breathing falter for a moment as she adjusted to having your tongue inside of her. You groaned as you watched her watch you, as she rolled her own nipples between her fingers while you fucked her.

As she bucked her hips against your face you ran your tongue back up her slit, wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking feverishly. Larissa’s movements became more and more erratic, her moans growing in volume as you found just the right pressure to bring her over the edge.

“I’m s-so cl- mmh- close, I can’t - shit-” Larissa’s voice was hoarse as her thighs began to tremble around your head - you could tell she wouldn’t be able to hold herself up much longer. You moaned against her clit, tightening your hold on her thighs in encouragement. Larissa fell forward, catching herself on the headboard and crying out in pleasure as she came, her juices coating your tongue and dripping down your chin.

You continued to lap at her pussy, cleaning her up and simultaneously savoring the taste of her. As you felt her thighs shift slightly beside your head, you helped her swing one leg back over your body so that she could lie beside you, breathing heavily.

You pushed her back onto the bed and kissed her eagerly, swallowing her moans as she sucked her arousal off your tongue. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of her lipstick smeared up to her nose.

“Wait here.” Pushing yourself off the bed, you went to the bathroom to wash your face, getting a makeup wipe and a damp washcloth in the process. Catching sight of Larissa’s bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, you slipped it on, taking a moment to revel in its softness before stopping by the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water.

Returning to the bed, you found Larissa watching you with an amused grin on her face, her eyes dropping to the makeup wipe. “You’re still planning on painting me, aren’t you?” she said with a chuckle.

“Yep - now drink some water and then hold still.” Larissa did as she was told, humor dancing in her eyes as you cleaned her up - first her thighs and cunt, then the bottom half of her face. “Can I redo your lipstick?”

Larissa blushed and nodded. “It’s in the drawer of the vanity.”

You took your time to reapply her lipstick, careful to get the edges just right. Larissa was a perfect model for you, holding perfectly still and watching you with hooded eyes. You unpinned her hair, arranging her curls over her shoulders until they hung just right, before moving onto the rest of your “scene” - adjusting the sheets until they were draped over Larissa’s body, revealing the tops of her breasts and clinging to her curves. The early afternoon sun filtered in through the window just how you had envisioned, giving you enough natural light to be able to work properly.

She was an absolute vision, the sun illuminating her blonde curls like a halo, kissing the tip of her nose and giving her a healthy glow. Mascara-coated lashes fluttered a bit against her cheeks when the sun got too bright for her eyes, almost pale blue in this light. You laughed and told her to move her head back a bit, an instruction which she happily complied with.

Sitting down at your easel, you wasted no time in beginning to paint - it was a portrait you’d envisioned painting time and time again, and you were thrilled to finally get the chance. There was something about the shapeshifter in this light, with a post-sex glow about her, that made the moment so special to you.

“You could’ve been a model, you know?” you teased, your heart melting at the pink hue that immediately rose in Larissa’s cheeks. Her lips stretched up into a wide smile that made her laugh lines more prominent and caused her eyes to crinkle at the outer corners - all of the little lines that gave away her age only made her more beautiful to you, stealing the breath right from your lungs.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Larissa’s voice was low and sultry, and she shifted underneath the sheets, cocking her head to the side - something that you immediately reprimanded her for, shooing her back into position.

“I’m serious though. Did you always want to become a principal?” You eyed Larissa as her expression turned thoughtful.

“Not always. What I did want, even in school, was to become a teacher. I’ve always loved working with children, even as a teenager I tutored younger students. But what these kids really need, as outcasts, is someone to advocate for them, and I can do so much more in my role as principal than as a teacher.”

Larissa’s passion for her job never failed to bring a smile to your face, and you glanced over at her between strokes of your paintbrush. “Do you miss teaching?”

“Sometimes…” Larissa’s smile turned pensive, a little sad. “I felt more connected to my students when I taught them directly every day.”

“You really seem to care for them, you know? Like they’re your own.”

“I do… When you get to watch them grow every day over years, they start to feel like family. I’ve always wanted my own…” she trailed off, her expression wistful. A long silence hung in the air and suddenly, Larissa’s cheeks turned red, her gaze dropping to her hands as she began to fidget. “I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She seemed unable to meet your gaze and you cocked your head to the side - the nervous energy radiating off of her was almost palpable. You set the brush down to give her your full attention.

“Why not?”

Larissa’s blush only deepend, and she sighed. “I’m getting too old for that, anyway. I turn 50 next year, that part of my life has long passed.”

“You could still have that,” you argued - with me, you wanted to add, but you didn’t.

Larissa scoffed, waving a hand in front of her face to distract from her (unwarranted) embarrassment. “You’re young - you’ll learn that you can’t have everything you want in life, and that’s alright. My students are enough for me.”

As much as you wanted to argue with her, you remained silent, mulling over her words in your head. The thought of Larissa settling, giving up on her dreams and desires due to something as stupid as age, broke your heart. You wanted kids, too - maybe not right this second, while you were still in college, but you could see yourself in a few years, chasing a blue-eyed, platinum-blonde-haired toddler around the home you’d share with Larissa.

“I don’t think you should give up your desires so easily,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Larissa.

Larissa’s eyes darted to meet yours for only a moment before looking away again. She seemed deep in thought, her brow furrowed a bit. Shaking her head gently, she rolled her shoulders back and let out a deep breath, plastering a smile onto her face - it was neither a genuine smile nor a fake one, but rather something in between.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” you whispered gently.

“You didn’t upset me, my love, that I can assure you,” she whispered back with equal tenderness.

Standing from your seat you rounded the vanity and stepped up to the bed, leaning over Larissa to cup her cheek and kiss her. When you pulled away, her smile was considerably more relaxed, the lines between her eyebrows nearly gone.

You spent the rest of the afternoon talking and painting. Occasionally you’d catch Larissa giving you a once-over, but she waved it off every time. Not wanting to push her again, you ignored it and allowed her to steer the conversation.

Larissa mentioned Mayor Walker’s funeral the following day and you told her you’d be there, as Robin’s family had been quite close to the mayor and his family. When you asked if Larissa would mind you saying hi to her if they saw each other, she chuckled.

“Darling, I think the secret is out - if Enid knows about us, everyone at this school does.”

You blushed a little at that, but Larissa reassured you that it was alright, she’d love to see you - that small fact made your heart flutter, and you ducked your head behind the canvas to stop Larissa from seeing how red you’d gotten as you added a few final touches to the painting.

“There.” You smiled proudly as you looked between the painting and Larissa. “All done - well, not done done. I need to add some details, and I’ll need to finish parts of the background. But your part is done, you don’t need to sit here while I do that.”

Larissa sat up to stretch, the sheets falling off her body to reveal her rosy nipples and the swell of her stomach. She smiled softly as she caught you staring at her. “Put that paintbrush down and come here,” she cooed.

You did as you were told, getting up and going to crawl towards her on the bed. She gave your legs a tug, signaling for you to straddle her. Her fingers came to the tie of your robe, giving it a gentle tug and then pushing the robe off your shoulders. She leaned in to kiss you, her bare chest pressing against your own in a way that made your whole body shiver.

Smirking against your lips, she wound her fingers into your hair, her nails scratching lightly against your scalp. “How about you let me show you how much I appreciate you working so hard for me this afternoon, hm?” Her words drew a moan from your throat and you allowed her to push you onto your back and have her way with you, kissing her way down your body and eating you out as if you were her last meal until the both of you were absolutely spent.

Taglist: @littledollll @nlr-33 @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog @barbarasstar @giogwensversion

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #lipstick stains #lipstick stains series

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paradoxlemonade · 6 months ago

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Like a Flower in Bloom; chapter 2/3

Fic summary: Doc Monster is a many things: he's a tinkerer, a college graduate, a creeper hybrid, and a husband to his wonderful spouse, Ren. Most importantly, he is a father. And he would do anything to make his trans daughter Scarlet happy. Even if it means becoming a Buttercup Scout troop leader and herding a trio of middle school girls.

Chapter Summary: Let's make a troop.

This is my @mcytblraufest fic, made in collaboration with my artist @watchmewhirl and beta-read my @raivaughn. You can find the masterpost for the art here.

Warnings: none!

Ao3: Here!

First - Next

---

Doc pulls into the driveway about 20 minutes later, a bag of fast food sitting in the passenger seat. Scarlet needs some comfort food after that meeting, so who is he to deny her?

She trudges in the front door a few paces behind him. When he glances back, there’s a smile on her face for Ren, but her eyes are red and puffy from crying. Doc gives his husband a pointed look before he can even think of asking how the meeting went.

Instead of prodding, Ren fills the empty space of dinner time with meandering chatter about how his day at work went, a video of a little kitten riding on a dog he saw online, and whether or not ketchup should count as a vegetable. Scarlet’s smile gets a bit less forced as the evening wears on, but it also grows tired and she slinks to her room down the hall early that evening.

Doc carries the plates over the sink where Ren has already started rinsing the glasses. He sets a cup and his rag down, just staring for a moment. “...Now can I ask about how the meeting went?” His ears flatten to his head. “The other girls weren’t mean to her, were they? Middle schoolers can be the cruelest beasts.”

Doc leans against the counter with a huff and crosses his arms. “No, no, the scouts were perfectly nice.” He leans back and scowls at their ceiling. “The troop leader, on the other hand, is a heinous bitch. Excluded her a lot. Transphobic. The works.”

Ren sucks in a breath around his teeth. “Oh, she must’ve been devastated.”

He takes the lead-in to get Ren caught up on everything that happened while they finish loading the dishwasher, including how Scarlet was so torn up about the idea of not getting to be a Buttercup Scout. Devastated she was, no matter how she tried to hide it.

They finish up in the kitchen and retire to the family room couch, a laptop balanced between them. The stark white Buttercup Scout web page drowns out the soft lamplight.

Just like last time the two of them looked, most of the troops in the area fell into one of three categories: far enough that they couldn’t justify the time or gas prices, not currently accepting new members, met on a Tuesday (their standing date for Scarlet’s physical therapy, which they can’t move around due to how busy the practice is), or that asshole Symmetry’s troop, which definitely wasn’t an option. Sure, they could go complain to the local council, but Doc doubted she would play nice if they forced her to let Scarlet in.

“Apparently,” Doc mutters, running a clawed finger down the side of the keyboard, “she overheard us talking about how the other troops around here are a bridge too far.”

Ren winces at that. “Man, we’re running out of options.” He gnaws on his lip a moment, and his ears prick up a second later. “Well, all except for one.”

Doc’s not quite what one would call desperate, but he’s edging closer and closer to that word’s gravity. He gives his husband an unimpressed look. “Which is…?”

Ren scoops up the laptop and rapidly taps away at the touchpad. Tap tap tap, click-clack-click-clack. He turns the screen around after a moment so Doc can read the page title, a self-satisfied smile threatening to break.

How To Form a Troop By Becoming a Buttercup Scout Troop Leader.

Doc looks down at the screen. He looks up at Ren.

“You’re kidding, right? I don’t want to be in charge of a bunch of brats. Just the one is enough.”

Ren snorts at that, his grin now out full-force. “Brats. Please, I know you love children.”

Doc rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I want to spend one night a week trying to keep middle schoolers from killing each other.” There’s a waver in his voice. He slumps back against the couch with a huff.

Ren leans over and cuddles up against him, laptop tilted askew by the shift. “But you would do anything for our baby girl. Scarlet wants to be a Buttercup Scout, and there’s no good troops in the area. We told her we would try, didn’t we?”

He’s not actually considering what Ren is saying, is he?

…

Goddammit.

“You’re going to help me with this,” he says dryly.

“Of course, baby!” Ren gives him a gentle kiss on the corner of his lip. Doc can feel the smile through it. “We’re going to be the best troop leaders ever!”

Doc leans into the touch, but the scowl doesn’t leave his face. “We’ll still need to find at least two more girls that we aren’t the guardians of to form a proper troop.” He picks the laptop back up and points to a subheading halfway down the page. Troop Minimum Requirements. “We also need to get certified and set up with the local council, figure out our budget , and—”

Ren reaches over and slowly closes the laptop screen, giving Doc ample time to resist. He doesn’t. “And we’ll get there. Let’s just take one step at a time, okay baby?”

Doc bumps his forehead against Ren’s. “Okay.”

***

They broach the topic at breakfast the next morning to Scarlet, who’s instantly smitten with the idea.

She stands from her seat and plants her hands on the table. “Oh my gosh, really?” There’s sparkles in her eyes. “You’ll form a new troop for me?” Wait, those sparkles are actually tears. Oh dear.

It takes a family hug for her weeping to stop, but she manages not to cry into her bowl of cereal. Her face is red and she’s sniffling, but her gap-toothed smile is one of Doc’s favorites.

“I’ll find you two more scouts! I just have to ask my friends who aren’t already in a Buttercup Scout troop! Or boys!” She makes a face at that idea. “Hang on, that’s most of my friends.”

Doc can’t help but snort at her expression. Despite being told that he and Ren can put up a notice online about forming a new troop, Scarlet insists on trying first and they stand down to her badgering. Arguing with her begging kitty eyes is an exercise in futility.

He digs more into the training requirements while she’s at school and Ren is at work, and makes some decent progress on the first module. It’s a quiet enough day, going between tinkering in their garage and parked in front of the family room computer to watch a video with a droning narrator explaining first aid.

Ren gets home first as per usual, and Doc sets him up with the laptop on the couch (and with a glass of water, and with some beef jerky as a snack) so he can get cracking on the training he needs to do to be an assistant troop leader.

It’s a quiet enough afternoon, the two of them coexisting with quietly-playing videos and the mouse-clicking of going through the quizzes.

Scarlet arrives home not long later with a shout, waving her backpack around like a spoil of war. “Guess who found you your new scout members!” She drops the crutches held in her other hand and swings around. “Am I good, or am I good?”

Ren startles and almost drops his water. “Woah baby, already? How in the world did you do that?”

Scarlet bounces on the toes of her feet. “So I talked to all the girls in my art class, but they all already had a troop or didn’t want to be scouts, and language arts was the same, and the math teacher told me to stop talking during the lecture so I only got to ask my table partners, but!” She swings her arms wide for emphasis. Doc slips over and takes her bag before she can knock a picture frame off the wall, but lets her keep talking. “But then at lunch! I was talking to my best friend Cub about needing new scout friends for the new troop, and he said that he knew some people!”

A laugh rumbles in Doc’s chest. “Did he, now?” Scarlet and Cub have been friends since kindergarten, and he’s gotten to know the kid pretty well over the years. If he recommended people to Scarlet, then there’s definitely some kind of catch.

“Yeah, he did!” Scarlet grabs her phone from her pocket and fumbles with it for a moment before flipping it around to show Doc. “Here, this is them!”

The picture on screen is of a selfie that Scarlet took in the cafeteria, presumably during lunch not long after Cub gave her the tip. Seated against the wall are two girls glancing up through the camera. The first is a very tall girl with black hair in a curly ponytail, red-lensed glasses, and curiously, a fake handlebar mustache stickered on her face. She’s tall enough to be bunched up awkwardly to be entirely in frame and her wobbly smile betrays her nervousness. The other is much shorter, a blonde avian girl with parrot-like ear feathers and a freckled, smirking face. She’s throwing up an ironic-looking peace sign.

Middle schoolers get stranger every year.

Scarlet points to mustache girl. “This is Mumbo—” and to the blonde one— “and this is Grian!”

Ren trots over to take and look and Scarlet repeats their names for him. “Huh. Cool! And they want to be Buttercup Scouts?”

She nods emphatically. “Yeah, that’s what they said!”

Doc hums in careful acknowledgement and herds them out of the entryway and back into the rest of the house. Ren ambles back to his training, and Scarlet bounces into the kitchen and grabs an apple out of the fruit bowl that lives on their island. He gives her a look. “Do you know why they haven’t already joined another troop?” Which is probably where the catch is, if he knows anything about Scarlet’s friend by now.

She waves her hand vaguely. “Yeah, yeah; Mumbo said she was too nervous to join—or, well, Grian said that for her, but whatever—and Grian said she was—” she takes a bite of her apple and the last half of her sentence dissolves into gibberish with few recognizable sounds.

Doc raises his eyebrow.

Scarlet swallows the bite and chuckles sheepishly. “Sorry. Yeah, Grian said she’s been a Buttercup Scout before, but she got kicked out of her last troop.”

What.

Doc blinks. “Did she say why, or…?”

She shrugs. “I dunno what happened. But she wants to join our troop! So that’s two more members! And we only need three!” She looks up at him with pleading eyes. “You gotta take her, ‘cause Mumbo said she wouldn’t join without Grian! And no one I asked wanted to join! So!”

Curse those kitty eyes.

He ruffles her hair and smiles through the hesitation churning in his lungs. “I did say all we needed to form a troop was two more girls.” Scarlet cheers before Doc can say his next thought. “Did you get their parent’s phone numbers so I can call them?”

Her celebration stutters to a halt like a toy running out of batteries. She clears her throat and focuses very hard on her apple. “Um, no…?

He can’t help but chuckle at the redness growing on her face. “Ask them tomorrow, and we’ll see where it goes, okay?”

“Okay!”

#hermitcraft #mcyt #docm77 #goodtimeswithscar #rendog #grian #mumbo jumbo #hermitfic #idea writes #idea original post #mcytblraufest2024

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emilija04acer · 8 months ago

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Lackadaisy fanfics list <3

Recomendation>>>

Characters: Viktor, Mordecai, Nico, Seraphine

Lackadaisy Five by GreyRose24

Viktor Vasko’s first impression of Mordecai Heller is that Atlas has hired a scrawny kid to be his new partner. His second impression is that Atlas has hired a very irritating scrawny kid with something missing in either his head or his heart. Alternate title: five times Mordecai let the mask slip in front of Viktor and one time he didn't

Words:27,291

This is one of my favorites. I found it when I was searching for fics that had some focus on Mordechai's Jewish background. I like how the author depicted their relationship (not because it isn't romantic), they show genuine care for one another and I want to read more.

(If you like the ship see number 3)

This is the first part in a series of 5 works, I'd recommend this series.

2. Lackadaisy Communion by GreyRose24

The Savoy siblings’ first impression of Mordecai Heller was that Asa Sweet had handed them off to a rude bookkeeper to be their new leader. Their second impression was that the boss really needed to watch his back because their new colleague clearly had his own agenda in mind. Alternate title: four times the Savoys messed with Mordecai to get to know him better and one time they didn't. [Fluffy side story, fits around Lackadaisy Diable & Triad]

Words: 25,720

The final installment of this series was mentioned earlier. Even without reading the entire series, I found it possible to understand everything. I love fluff so this is the jam.

3. What Is This Feeling? by FOxFIRe_27

4 times Mordecai had some…confusing feelings about Viktor + one time it finally clicked.

Words:12,781

Actually wanted the 2 to be happy so it's a bit out of character, but it's sweet!

4. Frozen Hearts by meticulous-metzger (EdgeHedgeShads)

In an attempt to raise Viktor for a job without freezing his tail off, Mordecai decides to drive in the thick winter snow, only to have an accident. Irritated his young triggerman continues to be reckless, Atlas orders him out of the speakeasy and into Viktor's apartment to recover, leading to some awkward conversations, situations and a whole lot of bonding.

Words:5,948

Mordecai has an accident and Viktor takes care of him, Unfortunately uncompleted...

5. The Hotseat by meticulous-metzger (EdgeHedgeShads)

After a storage barn gets raided by a competitor, Mordecai and Viktor are sent out to wait for the perpetrators to make a second hit. Unfortunately, it's the middle of summer, and Mordecai isn't coping with the heat well.

Words:2,697

This one is a bit more... sweaty. Nothing too explicit, just the first kiss in the summer's heat. Again not finished... Damn!

6. Stopgap by Stariceling

Viktor and Mordecai look after each other, at least long enough for the bleeding to stop.

Words:2,223

A break from shipping, another platonic fic!

Mordecai took out his handkerchief again to finish the interrupted task of fastidiously cleaning the blood from his face. “That should suffice until you see a doctor.”

“No doctor,” Viktor muttered. “Alvays threatening to chop off legs.”

7. Lackadaisy Liaison by bubble_bees

Viktor couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment their relationship developed into this. It was natural. They gravitated around one another as if that’s what they’ve done all their life. Or: a look at Viktor & Mordecai's partnership, up until its rather violent end.

Words:2,143

The betrayal of getting kneecapped buy your dear friend. Poor Vik...

There should be more fics focusing on Viktor and Mordecai. On Viktor in general. Also on the Savoy siblings.

I know they aren't the main characters, it's to be expected but come on! Will I have to write? I want a fic in which Viktor gets an apology for being kneecapped into early retirement, well a longer fic than this>

I Know Those Eyes/This Man Is Dead by Lack-luster-daisy (cowgremlin) We are back to shipping.

Please write for the series! Finish them, please!!!

"Papa me want more movie!"

Why are there only 4 pages for Mordecai and Viktor (platonic) on AO3? Well looks like someone's got to change that.

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 1 year ago

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...the unholy flames of ♥kink!week♥ burn brightly...

(don't know what kink week is? click here!)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

∼ the ice is broken, and we have stepped foot into the unholy week -- what sort of sin awaits us today? ∼

∼ day two brings us our beloved knight ♥ Brienne of Tarth ♥ ∼

∼ tags and the fic are under the cut ∼

♥ i've worked very hard on this series — it was a huge project to undertake and i would very much appreciate if you left me comments with your thoughts and impressions — you already know they make my heart sing ♥ (AO3 link — i prefer it to tumblr vastly)

tags: #lactation #lactation kink #erotic lactation #breastfeeding #hurt/comfort #lesbian sex #thigh riding #kissing #comfort #nightmares #feeding #veguely implied somnophilia but it's purposefully left unclear #kink!week

sweet dreams (clicking on the title will lead you to ao3)

Brienne manages to win the fight — but after she gives the last one of her attackers a final blow, making him fall onto the ground, blood seeping from his chest, she suddenly feels weak and dizzy.

Nauseous, she collapses, falling onto her knees. She’s vaguely aware she’s wounded, but she can’t discern where or how much. She feels pain — a distant throbbing in her arm. There is something red in her peripheral vision. Blood? She can’t see.

The world goes black.

When she regains consciousness, she isn’t in the woods anymore. The surface underneath her is soft and dry. She opens her eyes. Above her is a wooden roof with thick beams.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” a feminine voice says. Brienne startles — winces, and then immediately hisses in pain — but she manages to turn her head to the side.

Next to her, sitting on a little wooden chair, is a young woman that seems to be around Brienne’s age — but that’s about where the similarities end. The girl is very pretty — she has beautiful glowing skin, big brown eyes, thick dark eyebrows and hair, her lips are rosy and plump, and she’s all soft, womanly curves.

She smiles at Brienne, putting the sewing work— or perhaps leatherwork? — she’s been working on. “You should take it easy. It’ll take some time for the wounds to heal.”

“Wounds?” Brienne says stupidly.

“Your arm and your chest — but you’ll be alright. I took care of them and cleaned them. They’re healing just fine.”

“Who are you?” Brienne asks. “And where am I?”

“I’m Rosie,” she answers and smiles again.

Brienne can’t help but notice how lovely the girl looks — her teeth are healthy and white, her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink and her eyes have the most charming glint in them — especially when she smiles.

“And I know who you are, Brienne of Tarth.”

Brienne says nothing. She feels fuzzy again. She can’t tell if she’s about to lose consciousness or fall asleep. She fights it, trying to blink the drowsiness away.

“You saved our village from those crooks. They dwelled in the surrounding forest and kept us living in fear — robbing us, attacking women from the village, preventing us from living normal lives. I wasn’t allowed to do anything for months. Not that I could do much, really. I had a child just recently — but I would’ve liked to take a walk.”

Brienne is only half-aware of what the girl is telling her. She has a lovely voice, Brienne thinks, drifting in an out of consciousness.

“My father found you, and we brought you here. I’ve gotten the task of taking care of you. I took it very seriously, you know. I love taking care of people.”

Brienne mumbles a ‘thank you,’ tries to form a coherent sentence, but her eyes are too heavy.

“Aw, you poor thing,” Rosie says. “Sleep now, sweet Brienne. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Brienne sleeps.

Rosie is there when Brienne wakes up from a nightmare. She remembers blood and pain and death, but not much else.

“How long have I slept?” she asks. “I must go.”

She knows she was in the woods for a reason, but she’s so drowsy, so sleepy — she can’t really remember the details. She’s still shaky from her nightmare.

“You can’t go anywhere, silly — not for another couple of days. You’ll lose consciousness on the road and hit your head somewhere.”

Brienne whines and protests, but she knows she couldn’t get up even if she wanted to.

“We brought you here yesterday, and you slept most of the day. Today you woke up early in the morning. It’s afternoon now.”

Brienne nods in acknowledgement. “Thank you,” she says, finally letting herself relax into the bed, admitting to herself she can’t go anywhere just yet. “You’re very kind to me.”

“Oh, nonsense — you saved our village! Here, I have some porridge for you. Let me help you sit up.”

She sits Brienne up, and Brienne hisses and winces in pain. She notices she isn’t wearing her own clothes — instead she has a men’s undershirt on.

“Your underthings were stained with blood. I washed them, but until they dry I don’t have anything else you’d fit in but my brother’s clothes. I hope you don’t mind,” Rosie says apologetically. She brushes Brienne’s hair from her forehead, and for some reason Brienne feels herself blush. Rosie’s touch is firm, but gentle. Brienne feels very safe with her.

“Here,” Rosie says, and Brienne realises the girl intends to feed her the porridge like a child.

“I can eat by myself,” she says, but Rosie will have none of it.

“Nonsense. Open your mouth.”

Brienne doesn’t have it in her to argue, so she does as she’s told.

“Good girl,” Rosie says, and Brienne blushes profusely. Nobody’s ever called her that. It feels… nice — like she’s done something good.

Rosie doesn’t comment on Brienne’s blushing cheeks, and instead feeds her porridge in silence.

It’s rather nice to be taken care of, Brienne thinks as she swallows a spoonful of porridge, I shouldn’t get used to it. She can’t remember the last time somebody treated her with this much care — and a stranger, at that.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Rosie asks as she feeds her.

“Why do you ask?”

Rosie brings the spoon to Brienne’s lips. “You were frowning in your sleep and saying things.”

“What did I say?” she asks and takes the spoon into her mouth.

“I didn’t get most of it. I just heard “no” and such. Do you have nightmares often?”

“Most nights,” Brienne says with her mouth full. “I’m used to it.”

Rosie says nothing further.

After Brienne’s done eating, Rosie briefly disappears from the room to put away the empty bowl. Just as Brienne feels her limbs start to grow heavy with sleep, she returns.

“Am I taking up someone’s bed? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Nonsense,” says Rosie. “This is my bed.”

“And where is your husband?” Brienne asks, remembering Rosie has a child.

“Oh, he’s in the navy. He’s gone for months sometimes. I just take care of little Robbie, nurse him and such. I’ve little else to do. He’s such a good baby — he either feeds or sleeps. And my mother helps me when I need. Oh, and my father told me that he wants to speak to you — to thank you properly, when you feel better. But I don’t think you’re better quite yet — maybe tomorrow,” she muses.

Brienne has a feeling Rosie is the type of girl who knows how to get her way. She doesn’t mind — she fine doing as she’s told. She’s so very sleepy, anyway.

“Here, have some water,” Rosie says and brings a cup sitting on the stool next to the bed to Brienne’s lips. Brienne realises she’s thirstier than she thought — she drinks most of the water from the cup. She feels a bit weird, being babied like this — but she doesn’t mind. It’s nice to be pampered for a change.

“I really admire you, you know,” Rosie says, sitting down on the bed. “I think you’re so very brave. I could never do what you do.”

“You wouldn’t like what I do,” Brienne murmurs sleepily.

“No, I don’t think I would,” Rosie says, and shifts closer to Brienne. “You have really pretty eyes.”

“Yours are much prettier than mine,” Brienne replies.

Rosie is right above her face, leaning over her. She looks at Rosie’s big, warm, brown eyes. Her stomach feels funny when Rosie’s this close to her — tingly somehow.

“Blue eyes are much rarer,” Rosie says.

Brienne doesn’t have a response to that — Rosie won the argument. She smiles at Brienne, and Brienne feels fuzzy again, but… different fuzzy than before — she can’t quite place it.

“When I first saw you, I thought you were a man,” Rosie says. Brienne isn’t surprised. “But I’m glad you aren’t.”

“Why?”

Brienne softly gasps when their noses touch. She didn’t realise Rosie was that close.

“I don’t know,” Rosie says. She kisses Brienne’s cheek. Brienne’s skin tingles where Rosie’s soft lips touched it. She feels warm and fuzzy and sleepy. She wonders if she’s dreaming.

“I want to take care of you,” Rosie says. Brienne loves the feeling of Rosie’s warm breath on her cheek.

“People don’t take care of me,” she murmurs, her mind blurry with sleep. “Am I dreaming?”

“Perhaps,” Rosie says and caresses her cheek and her neck. Her hands are soft and warm. Brienne wants her closer. “I don’t want you to have another nightmare.”

Brienne sleepily watches Rosie loosen her corset in the front and untie her shirt, pushing it aside. Her breasts spill out of the garment. They look soft and heavy — Brienne is mesmerised by them. She looks at the light pink nipples. They’re leaking milk. Her mouth waters.

Rosie pushes her breasts towards Brienne’s face. Brienne feels her cheeks grow hot. She’s in that delicious, not quite awake state — drifting on the edge of sleep. Her body and her mind feel heavy and fuzzy and warm.

“This will calm you down,” Rosie says. “You won’t have nightmares anymore — not while I’m here.”

She takes her breast and gently presses it to Brienne’s lips. If Brienne were more awake, she’d question this more — but in her current state she only feels slight confusion which is quickly overridden by a pleasant, tingly feeling in her abdomen.

She takes the rosy nipple into her mouth. “Suck,” Rosie says, and Brienne sucks.

Rosie’s milk tastes sweet. Sweet, just like Rosie, is the only thought in Brienne’s mind. She loves the feeling of the soft, heavy breast pressing onto her face. She sucks, and her cheeks are hot, and she feels a bit embarrassed, but she doesn’t stop. She’s unsure whether she’s dreaming or awake.

Rosie cradles her head with one hand and with the other she caresses Brienne’s chest — gently, feather-light. Brienne’s skin tingles. She gets goosebumps all over her torso and arms.

Rosie’s hand ventures lower, slips underneath her shirt, traces patterns on Brienne’s stomach. Brienne softly whimpers when Rosie runs her fingers over her pubic hair.

“Just suck,” Rosie says, her voice breathy, and Brienne feels hot all over. She does as she’s told, and continues to drink Rosie’s sweet, creamy milk. A coil starts building in her belly as Rosie runs her fingers over the wet folds between her legs, circles the hard bud there. She feels Rosie’s wetness on her thigh as Rosie starts grinding on it, hot and slick, and she hears Rosie’s soft, sweet moans of pleasure — or perhaps those are her own. She sucks on Rosie’s hard nipple, heavy breast pressing on her lips, and the coil in her belly grows tighter and tighter until it finally snaps and Brienne cries lets out a muffled cry. Rosie grinds harder on her thigh before crying out as well and falling forwards, pushing her breasts into Brienne’s face.

Rosie gently removes her breast from Brienne’s mouth and then kisses Brienne’s wet lips — slowly and with curiosity. Brienne kisses back. She loves how soft and plump Rosie’s lips are. Rosie licks Brienne’s lower lip and places a chaste, soft kiss on the corner of her mouth, then her cheek. Brienne feels like she’s floating.

“Sleep, my brave Brienne,” she whispers softly, and Brienne sleeps.

When she awakes once again, Rosie is next to her bed. She talks to her like nothing happened, and Brienne wonders if it was all a dream.

“Did you have nightmares again?” Rosie asks as she brings a glass of water to Brienne’s mouth. Brienne remembers how soft Rosie’s lips were on her own, and her belly tingles.

“No,” she says. “I’m surprised. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have them.”

“Good,” Rosie says and smiles brightly. Her face glows and her eyes twinkle. Brienne’s heart flutters. “You should get some more rest. My father will want to speak to you today.”

Brienne nods.

“I have to go feed Robbie. Call for me if you can’t sleep,” she says and gives Brienne a kiss on the cheek. Brienne blushes.

When she falls asleep, she dreams of Rosie leaning over her bed, kissing her. She awakes sweaty and hot, with a throbbing between her thighs.

She ignores it.

Brienne recovers quickly — in the next couple of days she’s ready to leave and continue her quest. The village people wish her a lot of luck, and give her many gifts for her brave act.

Rosie gives her a leather bracelet. “I made it while you were sleeping,” she says.

Brienne thanks her and ignores the tug in her chest and the urge to kiss those pink, pretty lips. When she leaves, she doesn’t look back.

Years pass, and after a while Rosie feels like a distant dream. Brienne rarely remembers her during waking hours.

However, when she can’t sleep, or is awoken by a nightmare — which, thankfully, happens less often than before — she still clutches the leather bracelet to her chest and imagines the feeling of Rosie’s nipple in her mouth and the soft breast pressing into her face, recalls the sweet taste of Rosie’s milk on her tongue. She remembers the warmth, the tingling, and the softness of her lips. She feels fuzzy and sleepy and safe.

She always sleeps peacefully until morning.

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @opheliauniverse @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @zephyr-is-tired @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @alexusonfire @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld @sicklygrlsicklygrl @wh0re4women @rippersz

#kink!week #7 days of kink #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x original female character #gwendoline christie #i will produce my own garbage and also consume it

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saelterlude · 10 days ago

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I did a thing last year where I listed all of the fics I've written in 2023 to celebrate reaching 50k words and it was a fun thing to do. Which is why I'm doing it again this year!

So happy new year and welcome to sael's ao3 fic recap 2024! With a total of 69.201 words across 23 works. Link Click fics galore!

(listed in chronological order)

January

Like Dreaming of Angels (< 1k, Link Click)

Just a short "how Lu Guang sees Cheng Xiaoshi" fic based on the song "Angels" by The xx. Very light and feel good, read before bed type thing.

February

Shattered Reflections (14.5k, Link Click)

Power swap AU between Shiguang and the twins. I have to subtract 8k from the ao3 statistic because only the (6k long) last chapter was posted in 2024.

Softly, Brush it Back (< 1k, Link Click)

Another short domestic fluff fic of Cheng Xiaoshi dying Lu Guang's hair. Contains my personal LG with poliosis headcanon.

March

Time in a Tin Can (12k, Link Click)

My longest oneshot and an actual case fic! Also doubles as a camping fic! With tons of Link Click trio moments as well as Qiao Ling's dad! A bit of our heroes looking back at the events of S2.

The Right Word (1k, Link Click)

Humor sells, y'all. My most Kudo-ed fic of 2024 is just Qiao Ling asking "Who tf is Lu Guang to me?" for a thousand words. Go ahead and read to find out the answer!

The Bad Ending (2.7k, Link Click)

So right after a funny fic, I followed up with what's probably my saddest and most tragic fic. One that follows Lu Guang who is stuck in a timeline where both Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling has died. Read at your own risk. Oh, I'm also really proud at the non-linear narrative I did!

April

Us, In(tense) (3.4k, Link Click)

Everyone!! My favorite fic of they year, my Magnum Opus, is here. And it's just highschool Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang doing homework. What's angst and tragedy? Definitely none of that here. It's domestic fluff only. (I lied)

I join the Shiguang Fluff Week 2024 event thus the following 7 works are from there. Guaranteed fluff, ain't that nice? Though due to time constraint, they're not my most thought out or longest works.

Hour to Midnight (1k, Link Click)

Not gonna lie, probably my weakest fluff week entry? Just Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang on a case an hour before Cheng Xiaoshi's birthday.

Beachwalk (< 1k, Link Click)

Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi takes a walk on a beach, that's literally it. Nothing more, I don't know what else to add.

Blue of Your Eyes (1.3k, Link Click)

Confession fic? Does it count as a confession fic if the confession technically never happened? There's fluff, but the humor is more prevalent. LC Musical inspired.

Sent (< 1k, Link Click)

Highschool Cheng Xiaoshi writes (he does not send!) a letter to Lu Guang. It's for a school assignment. What should you write to your new friend about?

Familiari(tri) (1.7k, Link Click)

Just some hugs, hair ruffles, and kisses between Cheng Xiaoshi, Lu Guang, and Qiao Ling. Less shiguang, more LC main trio but fluff all the way!

Coma Berenices (2.4k, Link Click)

My personal favorite entry. Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang stargazes for a case. They search and ponders over constellations together. Coma Berenices is an actual constellation and is in fact my favorite constellation.

A Strip of Regret (1.7k, Link Click)

Once again, humor prevails. It's just shiguang on the tail end of their date deciding to go to a photobooth. Shenanigans ensues. Why wouldn't it? Cheng Xiaoshi literally has the ability to dive into that photobooth in the past.

May

Kick-off (2.6k, Link Click)

Pre-canon childhood shiguang anyone? Well here you have it. A chance encounter in a park only leads to more encounters. It's a good thing they like each other.

His to Believe (1.9k, Link Click)

Just answering the question. How did Lu Guang learns of Cheng Xiaoshi's missing parents. It's a good thing Qiao Ling is around.

July (Oops, I didn't write in June)

tick, tock (Goes The Grandfather's Clock) (1.6k, Link Click)

Long title, I know. Shiguang talks about a grandfather clock and I somehow connected it with Lu Guang's determination to save Cheng Xiaoshi.

August

It's All I Have (3.2k, Link Click)

Cheng Xiaoshi who realizes he's going to die decided he's going to give it all to Lu Guang and stops him from diving back in grief. It's uhh pretty domestic if you ignore like the last 300 words.

For the Soul (2.6k, Link Click)

It's literally just Cheng Xiaoshi cooking and eating chicken soup over and over again, through out the years.

September

Down to Zero. (2.6k, Link Click)

Okay, this one is also sad, though domestic. A countdown to Cheng Xiaoshi's death, though not in a way you might think.

October

In Ever-Changing You (8.1k, Link Click)

For the sgdlrminibang event where I hyperfocuses on keys and I compare those to many Cheng Xiaoshis across the timelines. With awesome art by Dx too!

Patri(steal) (8k, 2 chapters, DCMK)

Oh look, the only non LC fic I wrote this year, surprisingly one of my most beloved fic of this year. Kuroba Toichi and Kaito have an inheritance fight and the Kaitou Kid task force is sick of them. Kid task force and Kid (Jr.) feels here because I need more of those in my life. Toichi bashing.

November

If, (592, Link Click)

Just a short introspection into CXS's thoughts as he helps LG try to save himself (but not really himself? its him? in another timeline? he wont remember this evening he shared with LG. oh no, existentialism)

None from December I'm afraid, but here's to another great year of fic writing in 2025!!

#my fic #link click #sgdlr #dcmk #detective conan #magic kaito #ao3 #ao3 recap 2024

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fangbangerghoul · 11 months ago

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What Did I Get Myself Into?

My Time at Sandrock fic Fem!builder Ghoul x Owen Ghoul finds the confidence to try to socialize like the rest of the Sandrockians WC: 993 Chapter 1: Playdate?

New mini fic up and live on Ao3! Just like the previous one I am challenging myself to keep each chapter under 1000 words. I won't lie it's been a little hard. I always feel the urge to write 10 more paragraphs but have to stop myself.

Please enjoy the first chapter under the cut and feel free to click on the link within the title to show it love on Ao3!

The sun was baking the sweat against her skin as she dragged a pile of old dusty wood back towards her shop. This particular wood pile had a few boards in it that would prove to be quite useful to her for her current project. Once Ghoul was inside the fenced area of her home she gave in and dropped the heavy boards, letting them fall to the ground and trying to wipe some of the dust off her hands. It was still only nine in the morning but she felt done for the day. Ghoul wasn't sure why she decided to drag the boards across the desert like that and a part of her felt like she should have chopped them up into smaller pieces.

She knew it didn't matter now because the deed was done and her lips and tongue felt as dry as the area that surrounded her. Ghoul pushed her green bangs out of her face and looked out towards the Blue Moon Saloon that was basically her only neighbor. She could see the faint build of Owen and he seemed to be waving out towards her. She felt flutters in her stomach, anxious and unsure if he was waving at her or not. She gave a small shy wave back.

Owen seemed to do a different motion with his hands now. She couldn't quite tell from this far but it was enough to beckon her forth. She looked around herself trying to decide whether she should pack up the wooden boards or not but ultimately decided that they would be fine where they were for now.

Ghouls feet lead her to the saloon and Owen was standing there beaming at her as she walked up.

“I hope you aren't working yourself too hard in the morning.” The warmth of his voice caused the redness in her cheeks. “I must admit I slept in today but if you've been out for a while already care to come in for a drink?”

“I think I can afford to stop for a moment.” She said sheepishly. She always was a bit angry at herself for how small she felt around him and how easy it was to suddenly not know how to speak. It wasn't his fault, directly at least.

“I have a few commissions I need to finish before the evening but I must admit I am thirsty.” Her tongue licked her lips subconsciously as she said this to him and she couldn't help that her eyes were focused on the bulkiness of his broad shoulders. Thankfully she thought he didn't notice.

“I won't hold you up for too long then.” He winked at her, flashing a toothy grin. She followed his lead as he held the door open for her and stayed close behind. The saloon smelt of the usual fresh herbs, cooked food, and oak wood. Owen went ahead behind the counter and started to grab glasses to fill. Ghoul reached into her pocket and grabbed some gols to pay him.

“Don't you dare.” He warned her playfully. The large glass full of root beer was ready on the counter. “You can come and buy some dinner tonight but this drink is on the house.”

Ghoul looked at him suspiciously, always feeling slightly uncomfortable when he gave her things for free. She was never sure how to repay him and no matter what she gifted him, his response was always the same. It had gotten to the point where she made a little game out of it for herself and started to give him random pieces of old parts and berries.

“You're too kind.” Was all she could manage and as she sipped on her foamy glass he sipped on his own. His eyes always seemed to stay glued on her when they were within proximity, watching to see if she enjoyed herself. She placed her glass down after drinking half of it down. It coated her throat with cool sugary sweetness.

“Would you…” Ghoul began, tapping her index finger on her glass handle. She was trying to find the courage and the words for what she wanted to ask. “Would you want to hang out today?”

She regretted it as soon as she said it, the vulnerability of it. Asking for companionship was something she didn't do very often and she expected him to say he was busy today anyway. There was even a small part of her that did wish he would reject her offer so maybe her face would stop flushing when he spoke to her or the flips her stomach would perform would cease to be. She finally looked at him after asking and his brows were raised in surprise and his mouth slightly parted. Ghoul wondered if he was trying to find a gentle way to reject the request.

“Yeah, I would love that.” He spoke with a small sigh as if the pressure within him finally spewed over like steam within an engine. “I think Grace can take over for a few hours. It has been awhile since someone asked me to spend the day with them.”

Her heart faltered for a moment before revving back up to its regular beat. She was surprised and now even more anxious because she hadn't fully expected him to accept nor was she sure what in the hell she could take them to do. There were those commissions she had to finish and deliver and perhaps he would be willing to give her company during that. She chugged the rest of her drink before letting the glass fall back to the counter then wiped the foam off of her mouth.

“Well…um..let’s head out when you are ready then.” She tried to sound confident but she was still bewildered that he even agreed to her offer.

“After you builder.” Owen gave the willful command as he put both their used glasses behind the counter.

#my time at sandrock #mtas oc #mtas owen #fem!builder x owen #mtas fic #mtas fanfic #fang writes #under 1k words #mtas ao3 fic #ao3 fic #ao3 writer

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 2 years ago

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Apricity

[Table of Contents]

[A/N] Hello, yes, it is me! I've actually posted this! Now, just gonna say rn that tumblr post editor is a sack of klunk so if you want to read the story how I wrote it out (essentially with added italics in places that need emphasis) then go ahead an click that little link at the top of the post that says the fic's title, it'll lead you to Ao3, who is more friendly to me and doesn't hate me. Anyway, hope you enjoy this 9k word chapter!

CHAPTER TWO, Odd Jobs

Day Two-Three, Thursday-Friday

You wake slowly, your mind full of hazy thoughts of comfortable couches and electrical lights. Images floated away gradually, like memories you had remembered in your dreams that didn't seem relevant to remember in your consciousness. The feeling remained though, warm and safe and happy.

You blink your eyes open, and the first thing you notice is a head of blond hair turned away from you, laying the same way you are, aside from the pillow under his head. The second thing you notice is that the warm, comforting feeling isn't quite going away. You feel something pressing on you, and you glance down to notice a familiar cream-coloured blanket lying draped across you, heavy and warm. You wonder where it came from, then notice that the boy next to you doesn't have a blanket of his own. Not anymore, anyway.

You sit up slowly, groggily, and stretch your muscles to finally gain some movement. It's still dark out, though you couldn't tell if the sky was getting lighter or if perhaps there was a nearby light source, like the bonfire last night, lighting the Glade up gradually. From the sounds of- well, nothing, you figured the party was over and likely not the bonfire. Maybe if you got up now you would be able to watch the sunrise in this mysterious place.

The blanket was thick and soft under your hand as you took hold of it. You pondered, briefly, if you should wrap it around your shoulders and take it with you on your walk. You half wanted to, but looking down at Newt beside you, and Thomas curled up rather close next to him, you felt your resolve to steal his blanket away crumble. You pulled the blanket up and off of you, then gently draped it over the sleeping boy. You held back a laugh at the tattered piece of cloth that Thomas used as a 'blanket,' and pushed yourself to your feet.

Leaving the little sleeping area of the Glade was harder than when you went to bed. This time it was full of bodies, hanging from hammocks or lying stretched across the floor, all facing random directions. You tried to move as quietly as possible, dodging around stray hands and feet that stuck out just enough to trip. You took your time though, so no one was harmed or awoken by your movements.

You walked the Glade in slow, leisurely steps. You didn't like the idea of being found in the centre of the whole area so you made your way to the wall first. The doors you had watched close were still pressed tightly together, and you felt along the crease on the wall gently. You let your hand gently drag across the stone as you started walking, toward and around the outskirts of the farms.

The sky was gradually becoming lighter, just slow enough to not notice as it happened, but fast enough that by the time you reached the east gate, the sky was full of a light pink. You watch the sky, a gentle white puff of a cloud floating past, and smile at the serene silence surrounding you. You knew you were trapped here in some giant stone box, but for just a moment you felt peaceful enough to relax. But only for a moment.

The grinding of stone started, extremely loud in your ears, and you jumped away from the wall quickly as it began moving under your hand. Your eyes widened impossibly large, watching as the stone doors began sliding open directly in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat, terror filled your belly, and you felt frozen in place. You hadn't expected this side to open. Yesterday it had been the northern and southern sides?

Just as the doors opened enough to see down the long hall, something at the end caught your vision. A tangle of slimy black organic material and shiny, sharp iron coalesced into one great big shape, moving- or rather, crawling- oddly toward the end of the corridor. Its movements were janky, flailing slightly, and it practically climbed the side of the wall as it turned right at the end of the hall, and suddenly it was no longer in view. It was terrifying to behold, but something else was terrifying you even more.

You remembered it. You didn't remember seeing it exactly, which was weird, but you remembered the description. It was as if you read about this creature, the way it operated and the horror it could unleash. You weren't just scared because it looked horrid, you were scared because you knew the damage it could do- and has done.

"It's called a Griever." You nearly jumped out of your skin at the spoken words behind you, twisting to gawk at whoever had caught you off guard. Newt stood there, arms crossed against his torso, staring into the hall past you. Looking behind him, you could see multiple Gladers already up and moving about, getting ready for the day. Sucking in a deep breath, your eyes fell back to the blond, studying him for a moment.

You hummed, unsure of what to say. You knew it was a Griever, you knew what it did and how it operated, and that a sting from it could turn a person crazy. But you also knew that telling anyone you knew this might be dangerous. Newt was explaining this to you as if you shouldn't know already. You were told everyone lost their memories, only gaining back their name. Why were you remembering so much so easily?

Your confusion must've shown on your face, as Newt didn't seem too suspicious about your lack of response. You could see him studying you, but he seemed to come to some kind of conclusion that you couldn't begin to comprehend. He took the last few steps toward you that had separated the two of you, laying a gentle hand on your elbow.

"Fry should be done making the early riser's breakfast. Let's go grab something to eat." He spoke softly, gently tugging on your arm. You followed willingly, though your stomach turned at the thought of food after just witnessing a Griever in person. He kept his hand on you for half the walk before finally dropping it away, and for some reason, you missed the comforting heat of it.

Arriving at the shuttered building, Newt knocked on the window twice before suddenly a man swung one side open, grinning at the two of you. He worked the other side open, and you could see him notice and study you for a moment.

"Must be the new Greenie, nice ta' meet ya'." His voice was smooth, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Name's [Y/N]. You must be Fry?"

"Frypan, yeah, but Fry is good too." He studied you for a moment as he scooped some food into bowls, handing them over through the window. "Weird you got your name back so soon. Happen this mornin'?"

"Yesterday, actually. Almost immediately after coming up," Newt inserted, grinning over at you and handing you one of the bowls. "Probably the quickest anyone has." You heard Fry laughing behind the two of you as you followed Newt over to an empty table, sitting and looking at your breakfast. It was a mix of scrambled eggs and some kind of salsa. Taking a bite, flavour burst across your tongue, and you were grateful that Fry ended up being such a great cook. You could definitely get used to living in the Glade if this was the food you got three times a day.

"Good?" You looked up after shovelling a few bites into your mouth, noticing an amused Newt eating at a rather normal pace compared to you. You finish chewing and swallowing, clearing your throat before replying.

"Didn't realize how hungry I was. And this is good." Newt grinned at this, nodding along before taking another bite.

"Benefit of growing or raising all of your own food, I guess."

The sky was finally brightening to a light blue, and you could hear the Glade becoming livelier with it. Gladers were forming a long line at the kitchen window, and others were getting ready for their day's work. You glanced back to the sky, noticing another couple of clouds. One of them looked to be shaped like a dog- if dogs had long necks.

"Where do you go when it rains?" The question was out of your mouth before you really even processed saying it. The clouds above drifted lazily by, puffy and white and looking nowhere full of condensation. It still seemed like a relevant question to ask though, until Newt spoke.

"It doesn't." This causes you to look back down from the sky, watching as Newt took another bite of his eggs. You blinked a few times and glanced between the sky and Newt once more.

"What do you mean it doesn't? Surely it's rained at some point in the last eight years?" Newt's shrug seemed casual, but you could see the slight stiffness of his shoulders if you really looked.

"It just hasn't. We don't know why."

"Where do you get your water from then?"

"The Creators," Newt answers easily, shovelling in another bite. He finally looks up at you, studying you before tapping his own bowl with his spoon. "Eat up, you'll need the energy."

You took another bite in response, watching Newt nod his head. Suddenly Chuck appeared by Newt's side, his own bowl in hand with a giant smile on his face, shovelling a bite into his mouth before speaking with his mouth full.

"Ready for work, Greenie?"

You chuckled at his manners- or, lack thereof- and nodded to him, taking your own bite. Chuck began talking animatedly about his job, and the duties he was planning on for the day. He assured you that you could have the easier ones, since you were new, and you appreciated it. At some point during his spiel Thomas had shown up, sliding onto the bench next to you. He sat close by, his thigh pressing against your own, and you felt comforted by his presence.

As Chuck continued to drone on, Thomas joking around with him every so often, you finally glanced up to lock eyes with Newt. His expression had been neutral, or slightly puzzled if anything, though smoothed out quickly. The ends of his lips quirked up slightly, a tiny smile that felt solely for you. With the press of Thomas against you, and Newt's comforting gaze and soft smile directed at you, it was as if the 'why's and 'how's didn't quite matter anymore. And wasn't that just a terrifying prospect?

≣≣≣≣≣

Slopper duty, it turns out, was just as horrible as everyone made it out to be. Chuck hadn't fooled you in any way, he had been extremely honest in that this was possibly the grossest job in the entire Glade. And you were even given the easiest parts.

Chuck had worked with you at first, before being pulled away by what some Glader called an 'Outhouse Emergency,' and you dread to think of what that might entail. Currently, you are shovelling animal… excrement into a mix of dirt and other compost, and you had hoped to get used to the smell by now, but the sun was high in the sky at this point and you could still smell nothing else. You were somewhere toward the middle of what was called the Deadheads, Chuck explaining that the smell wasn't exactly something the other Gladers had wanted to live around. You couldn't help but agree.

Lifting an arm, you wipe the sweat from your brow and lean against the shovel planted into the ground. Breathing through your nose was bad, but breathing through your mouth almost seemed worse. You weren't sure if you were ever going to be able to get rid of this stink, and hoped dearly that you wouldn't be asked to continue this after lunch. The thought of lunch turned your stomach in a bad direction, and you shook your head to try to physically rid yourself of such thoughts.

"Alright, so just finish that up and you can take a break 'til after lunch, good that?" You turned, spying Chuck and another Glader walking in your direction. The Glader nodded enthusiastically, spouting off some thanks before turning and jogging back to their work. Chuck nodded once and continued on his way toward you, lighting up when he noticed you watching. "'Ey, no one told you that you could stop!"

"Just a small rest Chuckie, I'm dying of thirst out here." You chuckled good-naturedly, though you watched as Chuck's brows furrowed from concern.

"Awh, shuck. I meant to leave a canteen here for you," He expressed, jogging closer to you and reaching for his own canteen slung by a long strap across his torso. He pulled it off, throwing it over to you. Catching it, you uncork it quickly and begin to take a drink. After, you wiped your mouth with a smile.

"Wasn't really dying, but nice to know you care." You took another sip, watching the boy become suddenly shy, raising a hand to pat at his curly hair.

"Well- I mean- of course. I care for all of my friends." This brought a quick and easy smile to your face, and you could feel the fondness for the boy showing so plainly on your face.

"Already? I've barely been here a day, and you consider me a friend?" You watch Chuck look taken aback, then look adorably confused.

"Well, yeah. Why not?" You smile, tossing his canteen back and watching him sling it back over his shoulder. You study him for a moment, the tool belt around his waist, and remember the looks the other Sloppers had been giving him.

"So how's it feel to be the youngest Keeper?" Chuck met your eyes again with a mischievous smirk, and you raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"You mean the youngest Glader?"

"Wait- you're the youngest? Of everyone?"

"Yep," Chuck popped out, "And it's been challenging, but I mean- someone's gotta be the youngest. Just like someone's gotta be the oldest, or wisest, or nosiest." You laughed at this, shaking your head.

"Ah, yeah? And who would those be?"

"Alby, Newt, and Thomas, respectively." Chuck laughed, and you couldn't help but join in. "But, to be serious for a moment, I guess-" He huffed lightly, reaching to take the shovel from your grasp and lean it against a nearby tree. "It is kinda hard. They don't like to involve me with a lot of plans, I feel excluded most of the time. Even though I've been here five years, and I've proven myself. I know I have."

You tried to keep the pity from showing on your face, but you felt bad for the kid. You understood why the others might do that, but he seemed adult enough, now. They may still see him as a kid, but he certainly handles himself and his job well. He may be a young adult, the youngest here, but he didn't deserve exclusion from the group of Keepers that he should've been a part of.

"Chuck," You began, your voice quiet as he refused to meet your eyes. You take a step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I know I can't say much, being here for hardly any time at all. But, I saw the way the Sloppers looked to you." At this, Chuck finally lifted his watery gaze, meeting your eyes. "They respect you. You lead them, and they trust every decision you make. I can't say anything for the other Keepers, but they'd be fools not to have your input in regards to the Glade. You have one of the most important and hardest jobs here."

Chuck laughed weakly, raising a hand to rub his eyes with his forefinger and thumb roughly. "Hardest, huh?" You laugh at this, swallowing roughly.

"Yeah. And- I mean, I'll help you out the rest of the day of course. But I don't know if I'm cut out for this work." Chuck laughed at this, finally dropping his hand to turn toward you, patting your back with hard thumps twice.

"Ah, yeah. I could tell. Don't worry though, it's not for everyone. Every Greenie's gotta try it out first though, otherwise, we'd never get any helpers." You barked a laugh at this, shaking your head. Chuck continues anyway, pulling you along, "But I think you've earned yourself a break, regardless. C'mon, lunch should be ready soon."

≣≣≣≣≣

You spent your lunch with the Sloppers in the far corner of the picnic area, away from the rest of the Gladers and their noses. You joined in on some of the laughter and jokes surrounding you, though mostly your eyes roamed your new home. Some builders were still out, working through lunch, but most Gladers sat at different tables in front of the kitchen or ate in the shade of the Deadheads across the way. You noticed Newt had been sitting next to Alby, laughing brightly and nudging the man with his elbow every so often.

Lunch passed quicker than you would have liked, and luckily the second part of your shift also seemed to zip by. Before you knew it, a loud bell rang through the Glade. You glanced up from your work, buckets piled in front of you, to notice almost every Glader dropping their tools and leaving their work for the day. You left the buckets where they were, jogging closer to Chuck. He and another Slopper were laughing, walking away from whatever project they had.

"Hey Chuckie," You grin as the boy blushes at the nickname, "Can you point out the showers? I'm not too keen to keep smelling like this."

"Ah, yeah no problem." Chuck waved his friend on, turning toward the Homestead. "The water isn't hot or anything, but shouldn't be too cold either. It's actually part of the job as a Slopper to keep the water silo full, at the top up there." You look where he's pointing, a large bucket-shaped thing sitting near the roof of the Homestead. "Builders engineered a kinda piping system. Since the water starts up there, it's basically just gravity that lets the water fall down. And since it's so high up, the sun heats the water enough to not be so chilled, like the lake."

After his explanation of how the showers worked, and where to find the necessities, you felt the hard day's work bleed off your skin. The shower, while it would've been nicer if it had been hotter, was decent enough. Soon after, you felt clean enough and hoped you had scrubbed the Slopper smell from your pores. You also hoped, once again, that you'd never have to get used to that smell.

You were just leaving the Homestead when you noticed the group of Runners arrive back in the Glade. Your eyes were locked on the few of them, something tugging at the back of your mind that said this was familiar while not explaining why. You were walking slowly with no destination in mind as you watched them, Newt jogging up soon and handing out a couple of canteens to the group of them.

They were discussing something, Minho elbowing Thomas and laughing brightly, the other just rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. He didn't seem to respond, choosing instead to sip his canteen and begin scanning the Glade. You noticed Newt watch him do this, hands on his hips as he nodded along to whatever story Minho was telling. Your eyes fell back on Thomas just as the boy's eyes fell upon you.

Your feet stopped abruptly, locking eyes with him, and watched a slow smile spread across his face. Next to him, Newt follows his eye line and locks eyes with you as well, a similar smile spreading across his own face. You see more than hear Minho begin to shout something, waving his arms and elbowing Newt, causing the man to flinch and laugh at his friend. The other Runners were already dispersing, and you felt like you were standing still for too long, though unsure where to go.

Thomas began heading in your direction, screwing the cap of his canteen back on and slinging the strap around his torso, and you noticed Newt follow close behind. Minho threw his hands up, yelling something you still couldn't quite hear before the Keeper began to jog to catch up to his friends. Now knowing they were heading toward you, you felt less awkward just standing in one place for so long.

"Hey! How's the first day in the Glade?" Thomas called out before he could quite reach you, and you noticed Newt begin to unsteadily jog to catch up. Minho shook his head with a laugh behind the two, and you shrugged.

"Second, technically. But, fine. Messy, I guess," You answered, running a hand through your wet hair. "Hope I don't reek too bad still?" You had phrased this as a question, though were afraid of the answer. Newt laughed as he finally slowed to a stop, though Thomas kept approaching until he was in your personal space, leaning close.

"Nah," He began, a smile lighting up his features as he ran a hand through his hair. "Fresh as daisies." He took a belated step backwards, as if remembering a little too late how close he still was. You laughed awkwardly, shrugging again.

"Ah, well, that's reassuring."

"Did you just sniff them, shank?" You heard Minho's incredulous voice from behind the two and leaned over slightly to see the, as expected, incredulous expression on his face. You weren't quite sure how to feel about this. You had asked, you just hadn't expected an actual answer like that. Thomas was red, from the heat or embarrassment you weren't sure, and Newt was just laughing loudly alongside the group.

"I- uh, well, they asked," Thomas stuttered out, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and taking another step back. Minho just shook his head, crossing his arms and nodding toward you finally.

"And you, how was your first day on the job? Sloppers, yeah?"

"Yeah," You agreed easily, glad for the change of subject and grasping it quickly, "I worked pretty closely with Chuck for a lot of the time. He gave me the easy jobs, at least that's what he told me."

"He did," Newt agreed, his smirk remaining but finally able to get his laughter under control. He passed Minho and slung an arm around Thomas' shoulders, leaning against him. Thomas didn't seem to mind, and by the shuffling of his feet, also seemed to lean into Newt as well.

"Oh, and how would you know, Mister TrackHoe?" Minho asked, chuckling lightly and turning his crossed arms and curious expression toward Newt. The man just shrugs, keeping his expression.

"Well, I kept an eye on them, yeah? Gotta make sure the Greenie doesn't run off anywhere."

"Yeah, sure, that's why you'd do it," Minho mumbled to himself, and you wondered what he had meant by that. Thomas spoke up abruptly, blocking your train of thought as you turned toward him.

"What's your job tomorrow? Do you know yet?" You hesitated, tilting your head in thought. Newt jumped in, sensing your hesitation.

"Slicers, tomorrow." At your apprehensive look, Newt's smirk fell slowly to a gentle, encouraging smile. "It'll be fine, I'm sure. Gotta try it at least once, then ya' can do another the next day." You nod slowly, still unconvinced, and Newt removes his arm from Thomas to approach you, placing a hand on your elbow. "If you want, you can work the TrackHoes on Saturday?"

"Sure, that sounds nice," You mumbled, lowering your gaze and remembering earlier today, how some of the Sloppers had to clean out the Bloodhouse, where the Slicers worked. How you had almost been dragged along to help until Chuck came running up, insisting that he would help instead, that you should wait across the Glade until they were done. You worried about what it was you had almost witnessed, then realized you would be seeing it with your own eyes in under twenty-four hours.

You felt a squeeze on your elbow and a gentle tug and looked upward to see your little group wandering slowly over toward the picnic area. You were led along by Newt, who eventually dropped his hand once he realized you were obediently following along. Minho was poking fun at Thomas currently, something about the man being a Slicer when he first arrived to disastrous results, and couldn't help but laugh along with the group belatedly.

Dinner was delicious, of course, and you sat at the table with the rest of the Keepers and Runners, feeling almost like a civilian among celebrities with the way the rest of the Gladers would always keep an eye on the table. You tried to leave early, the undue attention raising the hairs on your arms, but with gentle encouragement from Newt and a hand on your wrist from Thomas, you stayed with the group in the end. It wasn't as if you'd regret it though, actually able to relax as the night went on, and you found yourself laughing and joking with the group as a whole.

That night held no bonfire, which was explained away by Alby: bonfire nights were only the first day of every month. You learned more of the Glade as you kept asking questions, the rest finally in an open sort of mood and willing to answer. They knew the old calendar had been a little weird with extra days in some months, or even leap years. However, in the Glade they consider one month to be 30 days. They had counted it out in the beginning, how many days between each Greenie. And back then when a Greenie had appeared every month they had decided that would be the way they counted their time in this place.

They continued to explain that now, since they had so many Gladers, they decided one day off a week for each would help give motivation to the other six days. The day each Glader came up into the Glade would be their day off, and at your confused expression, Thomas had added quietly that your day off would be on Wednesdays, like his own. You felt a weird sort of thrill at this, nodding at him. You had hoped this meant he might spend time with you then since you hardly get to see him during the day. You wondered for a small moment about being a Runner, though decided not to voice this thought aloud.

The group slowly began dispersing, some heading toward the Homestead for, you assumed, a shower. Others went straight to bed, calling their farewells. Thomas began to fidget on your left, Newt still twisting a piece of twine that had appeared in his hands not too long ago.

“So, make any new friends?” The question startles you, Thomas now gaining your full attention. New friends?

“Well, you all introduced me to-” You hesitate, motioning lazily at the lunch table that had been full of people just a bit earlier, “I mean, I thought maybe-”

“They’re all your friends, yes,” Newt quickly interjects, sending a half-hearted glare toward Thomas, who began rubbing the back of his head guiltily. “What I think he means is, any more? Besides in our little group, I guess.”

“Oh,” You breathe out, almost like a sigh. Were you supposed to? Were they beginning to feel too suffocated by you, being around so often? Hadn’t they been the ones to drag you along with them this entire time? “Well, not really.” You spoke slowly, unsure of yourself. Newt quickly nods in response, reaching the hand not currently holding twine across the table to yours. You take it hesitantly, looking between the two of them. “I mean, I haven’t really had the chance. Spent all day with Chuck, and then we all had dinner together and- well, I guess there was lunch. That blond guy had been nice-”

“Who? Ben?” Thomas was quick to ask, leaning toward you with his head tilted, curiosity evident across his face. Unbidden, it created an odd giggle to come out of you in response, rushing to answer his question to cover it up.

“Well, no. Ben’s a runner. He was out with you during lunch.” You turned to look at Newt to find him shaking his head slowly, a fond grin lighting up his face as he watched Thomas. “No, I think his name was Josh? Just some guy who was nice to me, tried to include me in the conversation whenever Chuck would get distracted.” Silence followed for a moment, and you watched some sort of emotion play across Thomas’ face that you couldn’t quite place. Newt was quick to speak up in his absence.

“Well, that’s good, right Thomas? It’s good that the glade is keeping you safe, helping you to feel welcome.”

“Oh- yeah! Of course, it’s a good thing! Why wouldn’t that be a good thing? Obviously, yeah, good. Very good thing-” Newt had to take his hand away from yours to smack Thomas’ arm, finally ceasing his rambling. Thomas cleared his throat, turning his head away from you and scanning the glade to his left. Which, really only consisted of a couple of empty tables and the giant wall of stone beyond those. Silence reigned again, though this time it felt considerably less comfortable than you’re used to with the boys. You squirmed gently in your seat before clearing your throat, though neither boy turns to look at you.

“I think I’m gonna hit the hay- uh, pad? Bed?” At this, more silence meets you, and you clear your throat once more to fill the awkwardness. “Yeah, anyway. Bye.” You quickly swing your legs over, beginning the walk to the sleeping area. Just as you were beginning to wonder how weird that interaction had been toward the end, you could’ve sworn you heard Thomas’ mumbled voice.

“So who exactly is Josh?”

≣≣≣≣≣

You must’ve been exhausted. That was the only real reason you could think of, as you wiped the sleepiness from your eyes, as to why you had slept so heavily. You remember laying down as the sun was setting, and now you’re being woken up just as the sun was rising. It was Newt’s smiling face that you saw as you were finally able to wretch your eyes open. He seemed humoured by something, though he only had eyes for you. Was it you that he was laughing at?

“How rude,” You mumbled, unsure if you were able to actually pronounce the words right. This just caused another laugh from the man kneeling in front of you, shaking his head.

“What, for waking you up? You got a job to do, Greenie.” He pulled a hand from behind his back, holding a pillow and folded blanket toward you. “Plus, would a rude person bring you the bedtime comforts that you’ve forgone for a second night, now?”

“A nice person would’ve given them to me before bed.” Your voice was slowly gaining clarity, and you reached to take the offered items, laying them down in the spot you had just rested in. Looking up, you see a sombre look on his face, and it throws you for long enough that Newt was able to speak up.

“Why hadn’t you taken it sooner then? We showed you where you could find them the first night.”

“I just didn’t-” -feel like I deserved them. Luckily, you managed to cut yourself off in time, glancing guiltily up toward Newt. His expression only furrowed further, leaning down closer toward you.

“Everything here is for us- for you. You’re here with us too, y’know?” You kept yourself from shaking your head, but you couldn’t help feeling out of place. Last night’s dreams- feelings, more accurately- slowly began unfogging in your head, and you remembered a book again. Sitting somewhere bright, and reading, and certainly nowhere near this place that you just knew you weren’t supposed to be. You were an outsider, even still. If not to the rest of the Glade, then in your own mind at the very least. You couldn’t help the feeling still, even after the full day of work in the Glade. You didn’t really belong here.

“I just,” You begin trying to explain yourself, having to look away from Newt’s earnest gaze. “I felt like maybe-”

“What’s taking so long? Slap ‘em in the face with that pillow, that’ll wake ‘em up!” You heard Minho’s voice call out from a distance, and you quickly turned to see him elbowing Thomas, who stood next to him and was pointedly not looking in your direction. “Hurry up already! I’m starvin’ and Thomas wants to wait for you!” You watched Thomas quickly elbow Minho, and the two begin bickering quietly. A sigh draws your attention back to Newt, who stands with a wince and some difficulty before reaching a hand down toward you.

“Let’s go before the man decides he’s going to die of starvation. We’ll never hear the end of it.”

You take his hand and haul yourself up, catching Newt from falling forward once you steady yourself. You glance down, one of his legs seeming a bit unbalanced. “You okay there?”

“Yeah,” Newt’s voice was strained, but he straightened himself up with another wince, “Just fine.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes but began walking by your side as you made your way to the awaiting others. You tried to ignore the limp that Newt was obviously trying to minimize.

As you near the boys, Minho suddenly rushes forward, taking your arm in his and pulling you to walk faster, ahead of the group. He begins immediately telling you of your job for the day with the Slicers, mentioning that Winston was the Keeper and likely your job companion for the day. He spoke loudly, boisterous in the way he always was you were starting to realize, but you could still hear mumbling behind you. It was Thomas’ voice that you eventually made out.

“Why were you kneeling like that then? You know it’s bad on your knee.” You remembered back to when Newt woke you, and you couldn’t help the worried expression crossing your face. Why had he done that if it hurt him? You couldn’t help feeling bad, but then you felt a tug on your arm and you glanced at Minho, realizing he had fallen silent.

“It was his choice to wake you. Not your fault.” Minho was talking quietly, probably for the first time since you’d met the man, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly reassured. His voice was low, and soothing to your senses. “He’s had that for awhile, anyway. His own damned fault if he does stupid klunk like that. He knows better.”

You wanted to ask what happened, but like a lightning bolt to your brain, you remembered. Or- maybe remember wasn’t exactly the right word. You knew what had happened to him, what he had tried to do and where he had done it. You let out a heavy breath, stopping in your tracks and feeling winded. Scenes flashed before your eyes- Newt using the vines to climb the large stone walls, looking so young, younger than Chuck was currently. The jump, the fall, and how he had laid there for awhile before someone had finally found him. Before Minho found him.

You looked up, directly into Minho’s eyes in front of you, and felt your own begin to water. You sniffed loudly, your breathing having turned heavy without realizing it, and you finally recognize worry and panic in Minho’s eyes. Then you felt their presence on either side of you.

“[Y/N]? Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” You heard Thomas’ panicked voice, and you look quickly to your left, meeting Thomas’ own anxious eyes. He had his hands spread out toward you without actually meeting you, like he was unsure of himself.

“What happened?” Newt’s voice was strong, rough, and you finally looked to your right. He wasn’t looking at you, but directly at Minho with a stern expression. Seeing Newt again caused a shaky inhale, and you reached out quickly, grabbing his forearm. He looked down at your hand, then back at you with such a soft expression, you had to clench your eyes together to keep more tears from spilling. And- yeah, more tears, as you could feel the warm tracks down your cheeks currently. What had just happened?

“I-I don’t know! We were just talking, and- and then-” Minho was rambling, panicked, and you had to clear your throat before interrupting him.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” You try to reassure, but after finally opening your eyes you’re met with Newt’s disbelief. “I don’t exactly know what happened, but it’s okay. I’m better now.” You kept hold of his forearm, taking comfort in the feeling of him, reassuring yourself that he was still there with you. Newt places his own hand on yours, his eyes never leaving yours. You feel an arm wrap around your shoulders, and turn to see Thomas leaning in close. You could feel your heart stutter for a moment, swallowing roughly as you look back and forth between the two men trying to show you comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Newt’s voice is soft next to you, and you finally settle your eyes on him. How would you even go about talking about this? The fact that you knew something so secret, so deep, and it had hit you like a freight train when you remembered? How would Newt even take it? How do you even know all these things in the first place?

“I don’t know how to,” You mumble, shrugging lightly and feeling disappointed when Thomas takes that as an indication to remove his arm from you. “I don’t even know what happened, really.” The three men begin nodding in response, trading glances with each other.

“Well, let’s get some food in you at least. Maybe that’s all you’ll need.” Minho smirks toward you, reaching a hand out and taking your arm, pulling you away from Thomas and Newt. He drops your arm once you start walking alongside him, and you already miss the comfort that your two favourite guys had provided.

≣≣≣≣≣

You were still shaken up about your visions from earlier, the scene repeating in your mind over and over throughout breakfast. You could barely taste your eggs, but you swallowed them down nonetheless. You avoided Newt’s worried glances as often as you were able, but Thomas’ leg was bouncing in agitation right next to yours, and you had to subtly scoot over an inch on the bench so it would stop reminding you. It didn’t work out very well, however, and with Newt’s subtle eyebrow raise, you realized it wasn’t as subtle as you would’ve liked. When Winston finally stood and looked at you, you were practically vibrating in your seat with the need to do something, anything to get this train of thought out of your head.

“Ready for a rough day’s work, Greenie?”

You practically pounced out of your seat, nodding quickly and rounding the table to walk with him. “Yes, absolutely, let’s get this over with.” Winston’s laugh was melodic and helped you to smile finally. You hoped the fact that he hadn’t been around for your little meltdown would ease your way for the rest of the day.

It had worked, mostly. Winston was a good guy, and very dedicated to his job. He loved what he did, which was evident enough, but he repeatedly had to remind you not to get attached to the animals. “They’re not pets,” He’d said multiple times throughout the day. You had spent the majority of the time with the chickens- taking their eggs for tomorrow’s breakfast, spreading their feed out and opening their coop door to let them roam the allotted, fenced-in yard. Once, another Slicer had entered the yard without much mind, causing a chicken to escape the pen. After a brief bit of stunned paralysis, Winston called out to you, “Well go get it!”

You chased the chicken, much to everyone’s enjoyment. After a particularly unsuccessful leap, and consequentially disastrous fall, you glanced up from the ground to notice a group of farmers- of TrackHoes- standing together to laugh at you. Newt was among them, chuckling with his arms crossed, but with a look in his eyes that you didn’t have enough time to interrupt before bounding up from your muddy position and chasing after the little bugger once more.

You eventually caught the chicken, with some congratulations from the rest of the Slicers. Winston’s, “I didn’t even need to send help over, you managed great,” had awoken some pride within you, and by lunch you were walking with a beaming smile on your face to meet with Fry.

“So, fieldwork or Bloodhouse?” Fry’s question shocked you, causing you to look up to meet his wicked gaze. He was currently handing the tray over to you, as was customary so far, but this was the first time he had spoken to you since you first met.

“Oh- fieldwork, I guess? I was with the chickens-” Frypan’s laugh cut you off, his voice boisterous.

“Right! I had heard about the prank! Typical Greenie stuff, y’know? Wish I could’ve been there to see it.” His smile was contagious, but a certain part of your chest shrivelled to know that it had been done to you on purpose.

“Right, well, enjoy those eggs I gathered for you. I think breakfast will taste even better than usual tomorrow.” Frypan’s laugh echoed through his kitchen as you began to walk away, glancing through the gathered tables and wondering where you should sit. The rest of the Slicers were behind you, since you had been first in the line of the group, and you remembered yesterday when you had sat with your job group at lunch. You had just locked eyes with Newt when someone spoke up to your right, startling you.

“I know you’re probably averse to the smell by now,” You glanced over, meeting eyes with the friendly boy from yesterday, Josh, “But it’s my day off today so I probably don’t smell like klunk right now, if you want to eat together?” His smile was bright, matching his light blue eyes. At your silence, he quickly added, “I’m not sitting with the other Sloppers today either. Well, except for Chuck. But it’s his day off too.” His shrug brought a small smile to your face, and you nodded to him.

He placed a hand on your elbow and gently guided you to the edge of the tables, finally releasing you as he sat across from Chuck. You smiled at the boy as you took your seat next to Josh, laughing at Chuck’s excitement for you to be joining them for lunch. He immediately dove into a story about his day, Josh remaining silent but pleasant next to you. You were glad for Chuck’s almost constant dialogue, as it didn’t prompt you to engage more than you volunteered, and it kept your mind busy enough.

“So,” At this Chuck finally paused, gaining your attention at the shift in the atmosphere, “I had heard they did the whole ‘chicken chase’ today?” You could see Chuck was scanning your face, trying to glean some insight into your feelings. You tried your best to put what Fry had told you out of your head, pasting a smile on your face. Chuck, unable to know any better, grinned along with you.

“Yeah! Winston said I did great catching it! All by myself, didn’t need to send anyone over.”

“After that massive fall though,” A familiar accented voice added playfully, and you looked behind you to see Newt holding a tray with his half-eaten lunch on top. As he placed his tray to the side Josh wasn’t on, he sat sideways on the bench, facing you. “Lucky that dirt didn’t stick.” He reached out anyway, brushing a stray clump off of your shoulder with a kind smile. You had expected the flashes of visions to return once more, but thankfully they had stayed away, and all you were left with was Newt’s attractive face focused on you. You hoped the heat you felt on your cheeks was from sunburn, or something similar, and that you weren’t already blushing at having Newt’s full attention.

“I heard it happens often,” You lied, dropping your gaze down to your plate with a small smile, half pleased that Newt had joined you, and half stung from the prank revelation. “Y’know, tripping and making a fool of yourself during the ‘typical Greenie prank.’”

You felt more than seen Josh tense beside you, and you lifted your eyes slowly to notice Chuck’s fallen expression. You refused to look toward Newt during this, remembering his laughter earlier and wondering if he was somehow in on it. It was Chuck who had finally broken the silence.

“I would’ve helped, y’know? If I hadn’t been- well, preoccupied.” He shrugged, playing with his empty tray. You felt your smile grow, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Mhm, and what, praytell, was this preoccupation you had? Josh told me it was your day off.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know a Keeper’s job is never finished!”

“He was sleeping,” Josh muttered to you, startling a laugh out of you. Chuck blushed visibly, shrugging.

“I mean, who could deny a good nap?”

“But you still managed to get up in time for lunch?” Josh added on helpfully, finishing the last few bites of his own.

“Three meals a day, Josh! What's the point if not?” Chuck’s exclaimed, your mind instantly rushing back to the first day you arrived, and you catch Thomas’ exact phrasing. You wonder how much time he spends with Thomas if he’s quoting him directly like that. Hearing Newt chuckle to your side, you wonder if he noticed the same thing.

“True enough, my friend,” Josh exclaims before yawning, stretching in an obvious way. “Although, after my busy morning and with lunch out of the way, I think I’m ready for an afternoon nap.”

“Oh!” Chuck gasps, grinning toward Josh, “I’ll join you! Let’s go!” They both stand, Chuck a bit bouncier than his counterpart, and begin making their way toward the kitchen to drop their trays off. It’s silent between you and Newt for a moment, and you take another bite of your lunch, close to finishing it off yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Newt whispered, gathering your attention. You turned to meet his eyes, and realize he hadn’t turned away from you this whole time, still facing you on the bench. His eyes were sad though, and he was almost sporting a pout on his lips. “I would’ve told them otherwise if I had thought about it. Especially after your rough morning-”

“Don’t worry about it!” You’re quick to cut him off, pasting on a smile once more. It hurt your chest, just slightly, to use a poker face with Newt. You knew already that you wanted to be honest with him. “It’s fine, really. Everyone gets the treatment, I’m sure. I’m the newbie, the odd one out.”

“You’re not though,” Newt immediately replies, a furrow on his brow, “An odd one out? Not to me anyway. And not to Tommy.” You tilt your head, considering this, before asking the first thought that came to your mind.

“Why do you call him Tommy?” Newt was understandably startled at the change of subject, looking down toward his lunch with just the hint of a blush lighting his cheeks.

“Hm? Well, it’s a nickname, you see. That’s this name that people give you-”

“That you gave him,” You interrupted, your smile growing, turning real once more. “I haven’t heard anyone else call him that.” Newt just shrugs in response, and you couldn’t hold back a laugh. You notice the slight pout come back to Newt’s lips, and you shake your head, turning in your seat to face him. “So, anyway, who exactly is Josh?” You could see Newt’s confusion clear as day as he turns to face you again.

“What? We were just eating lunch with him.” You roll your eyes, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

“I meant, what did you tell Tommy last night? When he asked?” It took a moment for Newt to process this question before he abruptly laughs, shaking his head fondly.

“I told him the truth,” He smirks at you, a mischievous look in his eyes, “He’s Chuckie’s crush.” You gasp in response, your grin widening as you lean forward.

“No! Really?” Newt only nodded in response, tearing a piece of meat off of his lunch and placing the small bite in his mouth. You look up toward the sky, wracking your brain to try and remember any indication of this new revelation from yesterday when you worked with the pair. Chuck did seem to glance up at Josh a lot when they worked the fertilizer together- though, not a very romantic setting, you could admit. “Crazy. I never would’ve guessed.”

“You haven’t been here even a week yet. Give it time, you’ll be able to point out everyone’s infatuations.” Newt chuckled lightly, and as you lowered your gaze back to him, you noticed the soft look in his eye was back.

“So what about you?” At Newt’s question-mark of an expression, you barreled on, “Who’s your crush?”

Newt immediately shook his head, mumbling an “Irrelevant,” quietly and directing his attention to his food once more, raising a hand to pull at his earlobe. You laugh lightly, your smile beginning to hurt your cheeks. He was cute like this, you noticed. Blushing, soft, and slightly awkward. And it seemed like it should be weird; you’ve been here almost three days now and yet you felt like you knew him so intimately already. It felt like-

“[Y/N]!” You turn your head, noticing Winston already standing a few feet away from the dining area. “Back to work, let’s go! Can’t spend all day chatting with Newt!” You notice another Slicer say something to Winston, both laughing and cracking up with each other. You instead turn your attention back to Newt, who looked slightly disappointed.

“Well, that’s me I guess. This was fun though, I’m glad I got to spend lunch with you. Part of it, anyway.” It’s instinctual, leaning over and giving Newt a hug. He felt warm against you, his shirt sun-soaked from working the fields all day. Newt turns stiff at first, long enough for you to begin to regret your sudden action, but just as you’re about to pull away he raises his arms and wraps them around your shoulders, pulling you closer. His grip isn’t tight, but it’s extremely comforting in a way that you didn’t realize you needed. It soothed the wound left open from this morning, and breathing in his earthy scent almost closed it entirely.

The hug felt simultaneously too long and yet not long enough before you finally pull back, feeling the heat on your cheeks once more. You pick up your tray, standing from your seat and smiling down at him. “Find me after work? Maybe we can think up our own prank?” And with Newt’s encouraging smile, you began your trek to take your tray back and resume your responsibilities.

≣≣≣≣≣

You realized a tad too late that Winston was leading you to the building in the middle of the pens- the Bloodhouse. Apprehension filled you, however, you felt obligated to follow along. Winston was ranting on about some sort of story, involving the pigs if you remembered correctly, but your mind was already running with scenarios, trying to prepare yourself for whatever you would witness stepping inside the building. Winston pushed the door open and entered easily, and you followed cautiously behind him, casting one last glance at the open air of the Glade before stepping inside.

Now, let’s be honest here, when you pictured the ‘Bloodhouse,’ you had pictured blood covering the floor, dripping from the walls, and perhaps meat hooks with carcasses hanging from them. You were instead greeted by a singular, large room. It was clean, almost extremely so. Tanning racks lined one wall, and there were a few hooks hanging from the ceiling, though thankfully empty. A large table was situated in the middle of the room, with a block sitting atop on the right-hand side, handles of knives sticking out of it. You finally looked back to Winston, who had stopped talking and was now just studying you. You felt your shoulders relax, and the man nodded to himself with a pleased expression.

“Alright, wait here. Gotta go grab dinner.” You tilted your head, confused at the wording considering you just left lunch. You did wait though, and as Winston left out a side door, you began to wander through the room, dragging your hand across the leather stretched and strung up between a rack. A loud squawk caught your attention, and you turned to see Winston walking back inside, holding a chicken by the neck. “It’s Friday!”

“Friday?” You reply, confused as Winston rounds the table once more, lining up at the front and laying the chicken down atop.

“Yep! Friday is chicken day.” What happened next seemed so fluid, and you knew it happened in almost an instant but time seemed too slow for you. Winston took hold of a large handle jutting from the wooden block on the table, sliding the giant knife out. With ease and familiarity with the action, he heaved the knife downward, slicing through the neck of the chicken and cutting its entire head off. The last squawk from the chicken burned through your ears, and you felt yourself choke, raising a hand to cover your mouth.

Sure, you knew that whatever meat you had been eating had come from animals. You knew they had to die to be harvested, and eaten. And if you really thought about it, the fact this was called the ‘Bloodhouse’ and was situated between the two animals' pens should’ve given you some type of clue. A clue you didn’t need, you remembered being hesitant as you entered the building. But none of this knowledge prepared you for the surprise of watching a life being taken before your very own eyes.

Before you even realized you were doing in, you had already left the building and began running. You didn’t exactly have a destination in mind, but you just knew you couldn’t stay in that place. You already felt your lunch coming back up at the sight and didn’t want to upchuck in front of the entire Glade. You finally slowed as you reached the trees of the Deadheads, reaching a hand out toward the tree and resting your weight against it, breathing in and out deeply through your mouth in hope that the nausea would fade.

There was a building to your right, with a group of Gladers standing around outside of it. After a cursory glance, you recognized two of them right away: Gally and Ben. After locking eyes with them, you notice Gally say something to the group before both of them began making their way toward you.

“Slicer not for you, huh?” It was Gally who asked, and you could only nod in response as you drew in another breath through your mouth.

“It’s okay, it’s not for everyone,” Ben insisted, finally closing the distance and stretching a hand out to rub your back. Gally stood a few feet away, arms crossed with an almost stern expression. Or maybe that was just how his face rests.

“I just- I didn’t expect-”

“What, that the Bloodhouse would be filled with blood?”

“Gally,” Ben reprimanded, and the man in response deigned to look sheepish, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “It’s okay. It took me by surprise, too. I knew what was going to happen, but seeing it- that’s a different thing altogether.” You could only nod in response, lifting your gaze to finally meet Ben’s.

“I thought you were a Runner?” The statement caused a surprised huff of a laugh from him, and he finally took a step back. Gally, instead, took a step forward, a smirk lighting up his features.

“He is, and a brilliant one at that. But he likes to spend his time with me on his day off.” With the way Gally slings an arm around Ben, and the easy way they move with each other, you could see there was something between them. You couldn’t help but smile, looking between the two happy men. You replied with a light, ‘Oh,’ just as Gally began speaking again. “Actually, since you’re good on the Slicers, why don’t you come over and learn the basics of building? I can show you what a nail is.”

“I know what a nail is, you-” You pause, unsure what you were trying to say, until Ben pipes in helpfully.

“Shank. The word you’re looking for is shank.” Gally then turns a playful glare at his boyfriend, poking him in the side and causing the man to jump away, laughing.

“Teaching the Greenie to call me names? Not a very good partner you are.” His mumbles were half-hearted at best, his smile warring with his words already. You inhaled one more deep breath, and then followed Gally back to the Builder’s hut to hopefully enjoy the rest of your day.

#apricity #newtmas #newt x thomas x reader #newt/thomas/reader #polyamory #newt x reader #thomas x reader #poly!newtmas #maze runner fanfiction #gender neutral reader #second person pov #Chapter two

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rosanna-writer · 2 years ago

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Fictional (2/3)

HUGE thank you to @azrielshadowssing for organizing another ACOTAR writing circle! This is my first time writing Nessian, part two of the fic started by @mercarimari. I was so excited to continue a story that was already DELIGHTFULLY meta; you can find part one here, and mine is under the cut.

Summary: Nesta has always hidden herself in books. Most if not all of her real life relationships had ended in fire and chaos. She was an expert in self destruction after all. But when a birthday gift from her sister brings a touch of magic to the world, and a piece of fiction into her reality--- Could things really change for the better?

No. Absolutely not. There was no way this stranger really was a man who'd just stepped out of a book, even if he did know her name. That was beyond absurd—Nesta thought she should have been worried someone had spiked her drink if she'd actually thought he could be a fictional character come to life.

"Do I know you?" she said.

Even though her tone was cold enough to freeze the surface of the sun, the man just kept grinning at her. "I think you know exactly who I am. Does Nesta Archeron's Unlikely Night ring a bell?"

The fact that he knew her name and the title of the book Elain had given her should have sent her running. He had to be some kind of stalker, one who might have gone through her things.

But he was also the most attractive man in this bar by a mile, and Nesta wouldn't be here if her sense of self-preservation was fully intact.

"Then cut the crap and tell me who you are and what you want from me."

That smile of his faltered for just a second. "Nes, it's Cassian. Do— Do you not know who I am?"

"If you are who I think you are, then I'm not nearly drunk enough for this conversation."

Nesta wasn't sure what she expected, but not for him to laugh or the way the sound of it warmed her. There was no mocking edge to it, and she found herself wanting to hear it again.

"That makes two of us."

Nesta stared at him over the rim of her glass, one eyebrow arched. "Does it?"

"Yes. I've spent most of the day trying to figure out how to get back home," he said, raking a hand through his long hair. If he wasn't really a book character come to life, he was certainly insane, but a traitorous part of Nesta wished it was her hand doing that, just so she could see if his hair was as soft as it looked.

"Home?"

He gave her a look as if to say that she knew exactly what he meant, as preposterous as it was that his home could actually be the pages of a book. Nesta opened her mouth to say something in response, but the sharp sound of microphone feedback cut her off.

Whatever terrible local band was playing at the bar that night was about to begin their set.

"We should move this conversation somewhere a bit quieter," Nesta said, then cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She hadn't intended for it to sound like such a come-on.

Cassian smiled at her again, and there was a hunger in his eyes that Nesta was all too familiar with. And well, hadn't she come here to find a bastard who'd look at her just like that?

"Moving a bit fast, aren't you, Nes? I didn't take you for that kind of girl."

Nesta scowled as she reached for her purse to pay the tab. Her voice was low and dangerous as she hissed, "You don't know a single thing about me."

When she was finished, Cassian left the bar with her. Nesta half-expected to feel a possessive hand on the exposed skin of her back, but Cassian just walked beside her, keeping a respectful distance. The only thing she felt was the cold night air.

Nesta led the way to a park a couple of blocks away, somewhere they could sit and talk without having to shout. For a long moment, the only sound was her heels clicking against the pavement. But when it was clear Cassian seemed intent on following her lead, she said, "You owe me an explanation. Start explaining, then."

Cassian ran his hand through his hair again, something that she remembered him constantly doing throughout the book. To Nesta, it had been a clear sign the book needed a better editor—the author had the same three overused gestures the characters made constantly.

"To be honest, that's what I was hoping you could help with. Everything back home was normal, but when I woke up this morning, I knew I wasn't there. Something brought me here," Cassian said.

He paused as they waited for a light to change, but Nesta didn't say anything, just crossed her arms. Even if what Cassian was saying was true (which she doubted), there was nothing she could help with.

"Everything was just so much more…vivid. I knew I had to be in the real world. And since the other Nesta—my Nesta—was based on someone real, I figured my best bet was to try and find you," Cassian continued.

Nesta couldn't hold back a sneer at the mention of the version of her that existed in the book. Cassian had probably been expecting someone sweet, friendly, and shy—not a shark out for blood at a dive bar.

At least he'd been nice enough not to voice his disappointment. It was better treatment than she deserved.

"And now what?" Nesta said, sinking down onto the nearest bench as they arrived at the park. This late, it was mostly deserted. Other than a few other couples out for a stroll and a man walking his dog, they were alone. "I don't have anything for you."

Cassian sighed. "I don't know. Could I at least see the book? Obviously, I know the plot, but I've actually never seen the cover."

That, at least, she could do for him. Nesta hadn't bothered to take the book out of her bag before she'd left for the bar, so she pulled it out and handed it to him. At the sight of the cover—a stock photo of a muscular, shirtless man—Cassian grimaced.

"Is that supposed to be me?" he said.

"Looks like it."

It was a shame they were out in public because Nesta would have liked nothing more than to get his shirt off to compare. It was clear Cassian was muscular under the jean jacket he was wearing, but Nesta wanted to see for herself. As baffling as this all was, the man was still gorgeous.

As Cassian flipped through the pages and skimmed, Nesta took the opportunity to ogle him a bit. That strong jawline just begged for her to run a finger from one end to the other, and this close, she could spot the green flecks in his hazel eyes.

She watched as his grimace became more pronounced the more he read. Eventually, he shut the book with a shake of his head. "Damn Nes," he said, "I didn't realize the writing was so bad. That smut is…." He trailed off as if he didn't have a word to describe it.

Privately, Nesta agreed, though she'd never admit that anywhere there was even the slightest chance that it might get back to Elain. Her sister wasn't a big reader, and the gift was thoughtful, in a way.

Instead, she just said coolly, "The book didn't mention anything about you reading smut. What made you such an expert?"

Cassian shrugged. "You get curious about what's going on in the other books in your genre, and I'm not as much of a meathead as I look."

"Tell me the last five books you read," Nesta commanded, the challenge clear in her voice.

Cassian listed them off without hesitation, and when he was done, Nesta had to admit to herself that he really was just as much of a romance reader as her. It caught her off-guard—she was used to being mocked for it, especially by men. But the jibes about too-perfect shirtless men and velvet-wrapped steel never came.

Instead, she found herself swapping recommendations with a man who'd stepped out of a book, but the most unbelievable part was how well their tastes aligned. They shared some favorite authors, re-read the same scenes over and over, and got irritated by the same tired tropes and turns of phrase.

But as the night dragged on and the temperature dropped, Nesta started to shiver in her short, open-backed dress. She put on a brave face, even as her teeth chattered.

Cassian pulled his jacket off and handed it to her. Nesta didn't take it. "Are you familiar with the saying 'a ho doesn't get cold'?" she said.

"It's yours if you want it," Cassian said, dropping the jacket in her lap. It was still warm from the heat of him. "But at least let me get you home safe."

If he wanted to go back to her place and fuck her, Nesta wished he'd just be honest about it. Keeping her out of the cold, making sure she got home safely—it was the kind of care she didn't deserve. Maybe he didn't realize that.

"I can get home on my own," she said, tossing the jacket back at him. Cassian snatched it out of the air before it smacked him in the face.

"You can," he said, "but you don't have to. And I want to know you're alright. It's late."

He just seemed so genuine; Nesta didn't know what to make of it. Everything about him was so unlike the men who just wanted her for a quick fuck.

She sighed. "Alright. Come home with me, then."

Cassian's shoulders slumped in relief as Nesta called a cab. Once they were up and moving, she warmed up a little bit. Cassian walked next to her, hands in his pockets.

"You're so different from her," he said, half to himself.

Nesta had no idea who he could possibly be talking about. "Her?" "The Nesta I know from the book. "

"I'm sure you want to get back to her," Nesta said, crossing her arms. She braced herself for a mention of how much he missed the sweet, shy girl from the book.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time that night. "Not really," he said. "Not after meeting you. Sure, you've got some rough edges she doesn't, but that makes you real. Nothing compares to that."

Nesta didn't know what to say. Cassian was looking at her with a little bit of awe, and no one ever looked at her like that. For once, she was too thrown off to find the words for a typical bitter reply.

Before she really understood what she was doing, Nesta was reaching for his face and pulling it down to hers. Cassian's lips were just as soft as the book as described, and the kiss was gentle.

But Nesta Archeron didn't do gentle.

She slid her hands back from his face, tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled just a bit. For half a second, she thought he might yelp and step back, but it just seemed to draw him in more. The hands that had settled on her hips pulled them closer, so her body was flush with his. As Cassian's tongue swept into her mouth, Nesta decided she could stay here forever.

But a sharp honk from the taxi they hadn't noticed arrived jolted them back to reality. "You're staying the night," Nesta declared as she opened the car door.

Cassian didn't argue, though he had the good sense not to mention just yet that he was already considering ways he could stay for a hell of a lot longer than just the night.

#acotarwritingcircle #nessian #acotar #acotar fic

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summerwritesfics · 5 months ago

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🗺️She’s Got An Army Of Saints Armed With Her Prayers

Pairing: Johnny Cage/Kuai Liang Length: 1714 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Modern Fantasy AU, Guardian Angel!Kuai Liang, Child!Cassie Cage, Ward!Cassie Cage, Attempted Kidnapping, Mild Violence, Mild Gore, Cassie get’s a tiny bit of responsibility and immediately tries to misuse it because she’s a kid with 0 impulse control, Johnny is very confused for the majority of this fic AU-Gust 2024 Day 21: Guardian

AU-Gust 2024 Masterlist

Notes: Can you believe there’s only 10 more days of AU-Gust? Because I can’t lol. Anyway, this is another one where I admittedly switched out the original prompt for a joker because no matter how hard I tried, I just could not come up with an idea I liked for the original. 😭 Title is from Tell Them That She’s Not Scared by Envy On The Coast.

Johnny barrelled into the room, placing Cassie on the floor and slamming the door shut. He quickly made for the chest of drawers, pushing it to block the entrance. Then he glanced around, trying to figure out where in the manor he was. It looked like some sort of small temple, a room in some way used for worship. He clicked his tongue, realising all the windows were barred up.

Even worse, their pursuers began to bang on the door, so there was no way out where they came from.

There’s got to be another way out. He ran over to one of the windows, yanking on the bars hoping one would give. It was wishful thinking really. He looked over to where Cassie was. The little girl was on her knees, hands clasped in front of her like she was praying. She was in front of a statue of a winged man, holding a shield and spear.

“Cass, what are you doing?” He asked, desperately trying to keep his voice low. Even with all the banging and the fact they clearly knew they were in here, he didn’t want them hearing.

“Mr. Raiden said if something happens, we should pray to the statue and it will protect us.” Of course Raiden said that. The lord of the manor was a pretty spiritual man, it seemed very on brand for his answer to be prayer.

The chest of drawers suddenly jerked, and Johnny dashed across to grab Cassie. As he did, the bandits finally stormed the room, and he turned to face them. There were three of them, two he recognised as Jarek and Tremor, and the third in the middle was Kano, their leader.

“G’day mate,” Kano greeted casually, holding up a knife towards Johnny and Cassie. “I’m gonna need your lil’ girl now, if you don’t mind.”

“Touch my daughter and I’ll punch your dick so hard your balls explode,” Johnny warned, holding Cassie close with one arm, and using the other to make a punching motion.

“Ey, don’t blame me for this! Blame your ex-wife!” Kano twirled the knife in his hand as he approached. “She ain’t givin’ up on her attempts to hunt me down, so y’know…Desperate times lead to desperate measures and all that.”

Johnny’s eyes darted around, trying to search for a possible way out of this. As his eyes landed on Jarek, he noticed the bandit was staring behind Johnny, an extremely confused look on his face. Johnny didn’t want to look away in case Kano took the chance to attack.

“Uh, boss?” Jarek finally brought up, pointing towards the statue. “Is it just me or is that thing’s eyes glowing?”

Johnny wasn’t about to fall for that, until he noticed both Kano and Tremor looking towards the statue and their eyes widening. Johnny finally chanced a glance himself, he found that Jarek was right. The statue's eyes had a faint blue glow to them.

There was a loud crashing sound, as the statue began to crack. Johnny had no idea what was happening but he didn’t want any of the stones to crush Cassie. So he darted to one side, just as the stone began to crumble. When out the way, he turned to look at what was happening, and was shocked at what he saw.

The statue was gone, and in its place was a winged human with a shield and spear.

Before Johnny could really take in what was happening, the former statue darted forward. He tried to strike Kano who quickly ducked out of the way. This seemed to spring Jarek and Tremor to life. They attempted to strike the statue, but found themselves swiftly blocked with the shield. The statue used his shield to push them both back, before once more swiping the spear at them.

This time, he managed to just about catch Jarek, who let out a short hurt yell. As he stumbled backwards, he looked down to see his torso slashed open and bleeding. The statue took this as a chance to strike again, this time jabbing the spear forward, with such force it was driven straight through Jarek’s chest.

“Fuck this,” Kano growled, as the statue pulled the spear out of Jarek. Tremor ran over grabbing Jarek and throwing him over his shoulder. Kano pointed at Johnny. “This ain’t over Cage!”

And like the cowards they were, they ran. All it took was some vaguely magical being that was a far more skilled fighter than they were. Well… Johnny supposed that was actually understandable.

The statue watched them go, as if he was trying to judge if it was worth chasing them. Eventually, he stood down, deciding it was better to just let them go.

He turned around to face Johnny and Cassie. Johnny felt himself instinctively hold Cassie a little closer. Just because the statue had come to their defence initially, it didn’t mean it would stay that way.

“Miss Cassandra Carlton,” the statue addressed, stepping forward ever so slightly. “I have heard your call for protection, and I have granted it.” Wait. So. The prayer worked? What the hell is Raiden doing with a statue like that? “I am Song Kuai Liang, your guardian, from now until you take your final breath.” Kuai Liang got down onto one knee, bowing his head low. “I am at your service.”

“Oh, cool,” Cassie squealed in excitement. “Can you make me a sandwich?”

“As you wish, Miss Cassandra.”

“Wait- Wait- No. No!” He addressed that at both of them. Partially to stop Kuai Liang from actually going through with Cassie’s request and partially because he had so many questions. “Okay. I’m her Father, can I get some context as to what the hell is going on?”

“I am a guardian angel,” Kuai Liang answered, like he didn’t understand where Johnny’s confusion came from. “Your daughter is my ward, Mr. Cage.”

“Right. No. Sorry that doesn’t explain anything,” Johnny sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “So. Cassie prayed to your statue for protection, and now you’re… What? Gonna protect her for the rest of her life?”

“If you wish to put it in such simple terms, yes.” Kuai Liang’s wings flapped ever so slightly. “The statue, as you so put it, was me in a hibernation state. Awaiting someone to call on me to be their protector.”

“I see…” Johnny kind of understood. He still had many questions. He could probably ask them later, but for now, he decided to try with the one he found most perplexing. “Okay, so, the guy who owns this place, Raiden, had your statue here. And the guy clearly knew what you were and how to summon you, given he told Cassie what to do. So… Why didn’t he summon you himself?”

“I cannot say, I am not Mr. Raiden,” Kuai Liang stated matter of factly, and Johnny mentally kicked himself because… Yeah. He probably wouldn’t know. If the statue thing was him being in hibernation, then he probably wasn’t conscious enough to have any idea.

“Right. Okay. Well. I think we need to go find Raiden then,” Johnny claimed as he began to carry Cassie towards the door. “Because I really wanna know what the fuck is going on.”

“Is that what you wish for, Miss Cassandra?” Kuai Liang asked, following after them.

“Well… I’d prefer the sandwich,” she muttered, pouting slightly. “But if Daddy wants to see Mr. Raiden then I guess we should do that.”

“I see,” Kuai Liang hummed thoughtfully. “Then we will do as Mr. Cage has requested.”

“I mean, I am her father,” Johnny pointed out again. “You should probably refer to me about certain things, before you act on them.”

“Such as?” Kuai Liang asked, tilting his head like he did not understand. Maybe he hadn’t been a protector for a child before, and didn’t know how little self control they had.

“Like, if she asks you to do something stupid like… I dunno… Let her stay up all night.”

That declaration was met with a huff from Cassie as she muttered “dammit.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re like, young lady, and no supernatural guardian is gonna stop you from having a bedtime.”

Kuai Liang looked between them, still clearly not really understanding. Johnny sighed, he tried to think of a way to explain.

“How about this, if she gives you an order that doesn’t relate to her direct safety, maybe just run it past me first, okay?” He didn’t mind Kuai Liang doing things if she was at risk. Protecting her was Johnny’s first priority after all, and if Kuai Liang could help with that, then he’d take everything he could, especially with Kano’s desire for revenge against Sonya. He just didn’t want Cassie abusing her powers to get things like extra cake, making Kuai Liang do embarrassing things or things that could get either of them into trouble.

“I… See…” Kuai Liang nodded thoughtfully, pursing his lips. “If she gives me orders I do not understand, I will ask you first.”

“Good man.”

“Jonathan, Cassandra, there you are,” Raiden’s voice called to them, and they looked just in time to see him running down the corridor. “I’m so relieved you are alright. Did you-” Raiden came to a complete pause, mouth open when he spotted who was with them. “Kuai Liang…”

“Lord Raijin?” Kuai Liang questioned.

Lord Raijin? As in the Shinto thunder god? Just 20 minutes ago he’d have found the idea preposterous, but with everything that just happened? And standing next to a man who came out of a statue?

Raiden being a god was somehow not the weirdest revelation today.

“I think you have some explaining to do, Lord Raijin,” Johnny claimed, narrowing his eyes a little bit.

Raiden sighed in defeat and nodded. “Indeed, I do owe you that much.” He moved to the side and gestured. “This way, I will tell you everything over tea and cake.”

Johnny grumbled, but still went to follow. Meanwhile Cassie had heard the word cake and had gotten excited. Kuai Liang followed along silently, looking concerned about something. Johnny wasn’t sure what that was about. Honestly he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Raiden better have a damned good explanation for all this.

#mortal kombat #subcage #sub zero #kuai liang #johnny cage #🗺️au gust 2024

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lennsart · 8 months ago

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This Is Starting To Feel Like Bullying please

Fjfkkdkfidi ok so a little context :

- The title isn't referring to anything in the wip, it's just that I kept writing whump, and since Legend is my favourite character it was CONSISTENTLY him getting in troubles, and it was starting to feel like bullying.

I didn't put a lot of my old whumps in this wips list, but I thought this one was surprisingly well written and earned its place here ! (when I say old it's like the end of last year, I was just starting to write for the fandom)

- When I read short fics, especially during events like whumptober, I often crave for the aftermath. I know the authors often didn't even plan what would happen next, but especially with whumps, I want to know how the characters would recover from the terrible things that happened to them ! How the others would react ! And sometimes, when I read whump and I really really want an aftermath, well, I write something.

ALL THAT TO SAY, I am sorry if you expected something silly, but "This is starting to feel like bullying" is a wip that is about a torture aftermath 😬

There is nothing happening on screen, only the result, but still, it is kind of grim.

I don't know how much I should tell about it... I have to admit I've stopped working on it a while ago, but I'm mostly keeping it as a wip because I feel like I could rework it for a Whumptober prompt !

If you'd like me to go into more details you can ask ! It's the first time I'm talking about my wips so I'm not sure how much I should share gfnjgnjfgfjjn

I'm going to put a snippet under the cut, but be warned, it stops right before the good part lmao (it's the very beginning, I just like how it started) !

“ - Don't think we haven't noticed, ” The traveler hissed, bitter.

His arms were crossed, his brows frowned, and he looked like he was barely stopping himself to just walk away.

“ - What ? ” Twilight asked, genuinely lost.

Hyrule clicked his tongue in annoyance, and scowled at him.

“ - That you're on babysitting duty. ”

The affirmation made Wind roll his eyes and Four turn to him, indignant.

“ - What, you don't think I'm right ? ” Hyrule said to the two younger heroes. “ They think Lege is in the other spot ! They sent us here because we don't know in what state we're going to find him ! Time looked like he had swallowed vinegar when he swapped Wild with Twilight, and it was just because he had the slate. ”

They decided to check the two simultaneously, because they wanted to get their friend back as soon as possible, but one place clearly made more sense than the other.

Unfortunately, Twilight was pretty sure the traveler had a point, there. They had two leads concerning where their veteran was trapped.

One would be practical and discreet, and was closer to where Legend had last been seen.

The other had one witness, who hadn't been convinced himself that what he saw was important.

And Warriors and Time had not so subtly suggested to send all the younger heroes on the probable red herring.

Wild had argued that they'd probably need to stay in contact, and Wind and him had to be in two different teams.

Then, Twilight had felt burning and emphatic looks thrown his way, and he nicely suggested to go with the younger team.

They were supposed to check quickly, call the others when they were done, and go directly to them after.

Wind was fine with the plan : he just wanted to find Legend as soon as possible, and the lead was worth being checked.

Hyrule and Four... Weren't as thrilled.

Twilight felt just the tiniest spark of relief upon seeing he had one ally in this.

“ - What does it matter ? ” Four shrugged, irritated. “ Let's just do this quickly, and then we'll get to the others.

- I don't understand what's with you two, ” Wind declared, staring at his friends. “ We need to check there anyway, right ? If it's empty, well, the others probably got him out ! How is that a problem ? ”

“ - The problem isn't whether we find Legend or not, ” Hyrule explained. “ The problem is that the captain and the old man sent us on the less probable lead because we're younger. ”

He threw a pointed look at Twilight.

“ Tell me I'm wrong. ”

The rancher sighed. He hated this debate, and currently resented Warriors for putting him in this situation.

Twilight rolled his eyes (but not without a smile).

“ - If I'm being honest, I think you're right, ” he admitted. “ But like Wind said, we need to check what's going on here anyway. What's dumb is that Wars really made it sound like the vet was in the other spot, and promptly sent y'all here with me.

- So you agree that you're babysitting us, ” Four commented with a smirk.

“ - Both of you have to remember we're not doing a useless job just to keep you occupied, ” he declared, putting a hand on the two boys' shoulders. “ We're going to find him no matter what, but we need to check that house. ”

At that, Hyrule's shoulders shrunk just a bit. He looked less angry, and more... Miserable, frankly.

“ - I'm so worried, ” he admitted, and rubbed his face with both his hands.

Twilight pat his shoulder twice.

“ - Me too. But we're here for him, alright ? ”

#tw torture mention #torture mention #linked universe #lu fic #lu fanfiction #writing #ask game #ask answer #Lenn rambles

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unusuallysized-nsfw · 1 year ago

Text

A Tradgedy In Mint. Part (1)

A Pony Vore RP Turned Narrative Fic!

(Alt Text: A Tradgedy In Mint Part 1)

This Story Splits at a pivitol moment, Will he be nommed simply, or will things get silly...

YOU SHALL DECIDE!

Mismatch found himself in a rather precarious situation that evening. a series of unimportant events leading to the focus of our tale. As the pastel green stallion ended up the size of a chocolate chip chunk on the roof of an icecream parlour, he blinked dazedfrom the teleportation before slipping, tumbling down and landing in somebody's bowl o mint chip icecream...

Princess Luna, having had an eventful trip to ponyville, was glad to have a chance to enjoy a moment during the late afternoon, sure, she'd need to raise the moon soon, but that was a bit off yet, and she had her icecream now. After today, that was her focus for the moment.

She Quickly glanced around, nopony was gawking, nopony had their cameras? Even that little thin colt who looks like he could use a child or two to gobble, she mused to herself. Feather Freight? Was that his name? Oh well. Icecream.

Sighing, she dug out a bite with her spoon and staring off at far off canterlot, she brought it up, having narrowly missed Mismatch with the first spoonful, and as she brought it into her mouth, was being pleasently surprised at the quality... given its only a local Ponyville shoppe.

Mismatcg rubbed his head, as he looked at the cold green expanse surrounding him. It was he mused, nearly neigh, actually completely identical in color to himself.

"It tastes of mint...huh..." as he tried to move he found himself sinking in more, as a big no, huge silver object dug into the terrain near him he was utterly caught off gaurd. However in it's brief reflection things became clear, as he saw blue... and as he looked up, way up to see her

"... it's not... it couldn't be." but yes there she was plain as day, beautiful as night, filling his sky almost as if she were the moon itself.

He tried not to gawk...it wasn't polite in the slightest, especially for somepony so decadent. Now it was no secret....well it was, that mismatch had always found the night princess beautiful since the day he saw her, but this was certainly not how he pictured their meeting, an overwhelming surprise infact. What was she doing in ponyville? Why was she so...big...as big as a he imagined a goddess should be? He shook his head snapping out of it the stupor.

Just in time to witness her eating. Eating his surroundings and only then it clicked...everything clicked. and he began to panic...

Luna, gave a brief shudder from the coldness, and arched her back in a certainly princessly fashion, she skipped where a yawn would be, instead giving a perhaps not cold, but slightly distant smile, a hint of that icecream on her top lip, which she idly licked away.

Going in for a second spoonfull she captured the larger part of the mound Mismatch was in, though, and perhaps thankfully, he slid off back into the bowl, on top of the second scoop, almost like a cherry on top if irony were allowed. The coldness numbed his body, making movements sluggish at best, perhaps nigh impossible were he buried as he was only a moment ago.

"Truly, quite divine for such a small town. Perhaps I shall give this creamery a reccomendation to my sister..."

She idly ate the next spoonful, smiling happily.

"oh jeez oh jeez"

he trembled, and shuddered, wondering why the heck his horn was being so stupid as to short out NOW of all times. Of course even if he were to yell, which he had considered doing, it'd had done him no good. His size wasn't big enough to even register as a cricket or mouse squeak. So as the spoon returned he found himself being lifted up...

"oh Luna...Princess Damnit, this can't be happening, Please don't!!" he shouted.

Though of course, it'd fall on deaf ears. The irony of using her name as an expression and her title as a pronoun is sort of lost on him as he tumbles off the mound and into the cream again... now too cold to even move.

"if she doesn't notice me...I'm...this is it."

His eyes widened as he looked up at her, and then for a moment, just a solitary moment he considered if such a sacrifice could be considered noble...before blinking and trying ineffectively to move as her voice boomed loudly, like the canterlot voice, but somehow softer, more refined, yet as gruff as would be expected of a Princess... the words less important than the sound which calm him rather than scare... he wonders how any of this is even possible.

"Lovely...!"

This was it, it seemed. The spoon heading down, grabbing the "ground" out from under Mismatch, and with him firmly planted in it this time. Breaking free from the main mass, the spoon and its contents made their way up to Luna's mouth, her not having glanced at the bowl in all this time, as if it beneath her notice, or that perhaps she has such confidence nopony would be foolish enough to attempt something, today of all days.

*Stopping for a tantalizing moment, she arched her back again, and this time did yawn, a literal breath of warm, moist air being a surprisingly cold comfort to the tiny morsel...er i mean pony.

With his fur literally blown back, the warmth both, terrifying and of course, comforting, he found himself staring down at his doom. Saliva dripping and strands of it reflected in the afternoon light. it was almost kind of amusing, just how...normal it seemed for one of such regality to be as gross a eater as anyone else. A pink monster gaurded the entrance to tartarus, and the gates... pearly and white as the moon itself. The juxtaposition of these themes, and of the comfort of this particular predator and the fear of imminent demise. It would almost be poetic... but he knew what was coming next not a scream nor a struggle had done anything on the ride up... nor would it on his ride down he imagined. He felt however briefly, if this is how his story ends, at least "I got one last literal scoop... of the night princesse's inside story"

He chuckled, he was crying but laughing and taking it in stride... Perhaps he was merely trying to find peace among it all but if he was he'd not think of it that way. As he was warmed by her breath and gazed at her maw, he almost gained an apreciation for its intricacies...he wondered if his inclusion would provide any extra nourishment, or flavour... if he was to go down unable to fight, he at least hoped his sacrifice would be somewhat worth it.

Time for him had slowed... as he looked at her lips he chuckled about how he was sure many a stallion would love to be this close to them... humour was all he had now.

Indeed he thought all this, all these idle, intrusive thoughts, reflective of his namesake. One after the other with no segues, between them. this was normal even if nothing of the situation itself was... He idly remembered how he'd escaped previous scrapes like this one... but knew none of those tactics could be used here, not even in self defense would they be worth the price. She was a practical goddess and he was just a silly 'modern' historian.

Besides... as he braced himself for the inevitable, got lost in her deep tealishblue eyes... looking off and away, there was no malice...she'd never even know.

Princess Luna's yawn having finished, her lips having smacked, the spoon brought to her lips, where Mismatch was briefly smacked by the upper lip as they came closing down around the spoon, pressing him between her lip and holding him tight as the spoon slid easily from underneath him, it was as if he'd recieved the world's largest kiss from a goddess herself! <3

Clearly she was not much of a chewer when it came to her ice cream, as she moved her tongue around, coating it and her mouth in the frozen treat, tickling the bottom of his hooves and...0h...

As he remained pressed between her mile wide lips. Luna, from the sounds she was making, was clearly enjoying some of the best icecream she'd had in a long time.

Mismatch couldn't help but sort of enjoy this, His mind at relative ease, letting it all play out, the lack of chewing had certainly did no favours toward snapping him out of whatever this blissful self sacrifice nonsense was. And when she kissed him! Though he knew she didn't truly, And then licked his hooves! he shuddered..this was an incredibly eye opening experience for the little pony.

oh. she just... .oh.

(MALE SEXUAL MOMENT AHEAD)

Mismatch snapped to and panicked trying to hold back the indecency that her innocent toungue had wrought upon him, but it was useless... and a little more cream was added to her dessert than probabbly intended, But to his credit he had tried and was feeling terrible about it.

(MOMENT ENDS HERE)

His Guilt was misplaced as it was almost certainly unnoticed at his miniscule size, the larger part of the icecream was swallowed, and she proceeded to lick her lips, bringing him in, and perhaps fortunately, caught him under her tongue when she swallowed the rest. As she went for the last real spoonful, her tongue was at rest on...what was certainly a piece of chocolate that'd melt in a moment anyway~

A few Words were spoken between this, and a head nod was felt, but nothing that'd be understandable considering Mismatch's predicament.

Mismatch, however, having been placed in a considerably less dangerous but still frightful situation. Tried his horn again. Sparks n bzzts. he sighed, alas whatever had shrunk him had also fried him. He struggled physically a bit but feeling the warmth of the slick yetvelvety toungue above him like a blanket, and the oddly silky gums beneath him he began feeling rather tired.

Yet his adrenaline and fight or flight instincts despite what his concious mind may have thought refused to give in. She still had some icecream to go so maybe he'd be caught in the next go round.. or maybe somepony speaking to her would be the perfect time for him to try and get out of this... as he found himself becoming ever so slightly bigger. not nearly noticeable.. or perhaps very ignorable, he was now still small enough to swallow whole, but also large enough to maybe fight back if need be!

and yet try as he might he remained stuck in his position.. Bathed in saliva like a chocolate chip only slightly smaller than a tooth.

For Luna, for whatever had transpired within, it didn't much slow the minty eventuality that was the last incoming spoonful. Pressed and swished and rolled around with it, having been jarred loose by the initial bite, he was at his last real chance to do anything before the inevitable happens to the icecream and to him. Still, it was quite disorienting, getting rolled around and practically licked all over by a tongue the size of a truck.

Mismatch made what he feared may be his final attempt as he proceed dizzingly toward the princess's maw, calling her name, over the sound of her breathing and distant but omnipresent heartbeat, he managed to knock on her teeth, but the resulting lack of feedback tells him it may not have even been something she felt. Curse her good dental hygiene...had she more cavities he'd be out of here fine! Just like the time with the succubi. But for now he had to rely on hopes truly just hope was all he had as he contiued fighting against the toungue to be noticed. Slipping and falling... his mind had decided to agree with his adrenaline... if they could make it out, they were going to, if they couldnt... she enjoyed him at least.

HOWS THIS GONNA END?

A. Exactly how youd think (Just Nomz)

B. With A Surprising Turn of events (silly character building...and noms)

#macro micro #microphilia #micro #macro #macrophilia #vore tw #soft vore #vore story #soft v0re #v0re #mlp fim #mlp g4 #princess luna #oc #story

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get-infectious · 1 year ago

Text

Young, Dumb, and Broken: Chapter 1 - The Welcome Wagon

Read: AO3 FFN Quotev Wattpad

Summary: **Alternative Universe Fic** Twenty-Six-year-old Gregory House is a medical genius who now has a new team of diagnosticians to lead. It's difficult to run a department when nobody understands how someone so young moved up so quickly.

Chapter Tags: N/A

Keep Reading to read chapter

"What part of this is confusing to you?" The young man snapped at the security guard. "I work here." Getting frustrated, he shifted the heavy backpack further up on his shoulder.

"Let me see your ID."

"My-… are you serious?" He chuckled, pulling his wallet out from his back pocket. "I understand that you don't typically work this early in the morning…." He started as he was digging through his unorganised wallet in search of his driver's license. "But I really, really hope that this small amount of power is enough to get your wife through the most disappointing two minutes of her life." He flicked the card towards the guard, who snatched it from him. "Did I hit a nerve?"

The security guard opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by heels clicking through the lobby tile floor. The young man didn't have to turn around to know who was coming their way, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh, knowing that if she heard his comments, he would surely be pulled into her office. His argument was always the same; it's not his fault that everyone around him is a moron and should do what he says no matter what.

"What's going on?" Dr. Cuddy questioned. "Not asking you," she cut the young man off quickly as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. She had no idea what might be coming from his mouth and wanted to avoid as much verbal back and forth as possible. "What's going on?" She asked again towards the guard.

He turned the name badge and driver's license towards Cuddy so she could look closer.

"Claims he works here?"

Cuddy flashed him a puzzled look, not understanding what the problem was. He had the proper identification, so what was the holdup?

"Yeah? That's Dr. House. He works for me. What's the problem?"

All the colour drained from the guard's face, doing everything that he could to avoid glancing at the smug look on House's face. Cuddy couldn't be too upset; if she didn't know who he was and he was trying to tell her that he was an M.D. here, she would be sceptical too. She understood the possible risks of hiring a twenty-five-year-old diagnostician, only thinking that patients would question his title and age, not the security guards holding all the proper identifications.

"That's my bad. Forgot my bald spot today." House ruffled through his thick, curly hair. "Won't let it happen again." Cuddy lightly smacked his arm, her way of telling him to shut up before he made things worse. Rolling his eyes, House held a hand out to the guard. "Can I go now?"

The security guard looked between the two before placing the cards back in his hands.

"Thanks. Dickhead."

"Okay!" Cuddy grabbed his backpack, forcing him to follow her along back to her office. Not before mouthing thank you, sorry to the guard as they walked away.

House backed away from her grip; she knew that he didn't like to be touched in any way, shape, or form. It always made him feel angry and trapped, which was difficult to describe. Still, Cuddy always reassured him that she understood what he was trying to say. If that was true, then why did she insist on breaking that boundary whenever it was convenient for her?

"Don't do that!" He shouted, readjusting his backpack again.

"Well, I wouldn't have to do that if you would just behave yourself!" She opened the door to her office, motioning for House to step inside. "You were acting like a child!" Cuddy continued the lecture as soon as the door shut behind her. "You're-"

"You're a doctor, yes, yes, I know." House rolled his eyes, dropping his backpack to the floor before sitting on his favourite spinny chair in her office, legs crossed before using the edge of her desk to get the chair to spin around.

"How many times-"

"At least ten times a day," House cut her off, giving himself another spin.

"I didn't-"

"Finish your sentence. I know."

"Stop." Cuddy placed a hand on the chair, stopping it instantly and almost throwing House off. "Focus on me."

House heard that strict tone before, every day, in fact. Something about this tone made him watch silently as she sat behind her desk. Cuddy was silently surprised that he didn't protest or make a crude comment towards her. She hated that the rare times that he would listen to her, he gave her that puppy dog look waiting for her to speak; it always made her heart drop, knowing that she had said something that must have dented his narcissist wall, even a little bit.

"What did we talk about last time we were here?" Cuddy questioned, trying to gauge exactly where he was mentally.

House glanced around the room before his eyes dropped to his fidgety hands. Suddenly, he didn't feel like a doctor who got pulled into his boss's office; now, he felt like a child being scolded by his mother for disappointing her. Did he feel guilty? He'd like to think not, but deep, deep down, he knew that he didn't want to be that vulnerable towards anybody. Not even to somebody like Cuddy and Wilson, who knew him the best.

"Hit a nerve?" Cuddy questioned, mimicking the exact words he told the guard.

Any and all guilt that House could have felt at that moment was thrown out the window, and Cuddy knew it. The way his eyes snapped up at her, giving her a slight glare, knowing precisely what she was trying to do.

"It's not my fault!" House snapped. "He-"

"Was doing his job. I understand it's frustrating, but he was just doing his job."

The two doctors stared at each other silently for what felt like forever, waiting for the other to say something. Cuddy has learned by now that the only way to beat House was to play along with him. If he was going to be rude towards her, she would fire back. Sarcastic? Same treatment. If anything, it made House impressed and even respected her more.

"We talked about how you handle things, remember?"

House mumbled something under her breath, leaning against his propped-up arm on the armrest. Good. She was getting somewhere.

“And… you have to be….?”

House tilted his head to the side as if he had no idea what she was going on about.

"Niiiceer…." She finished slowly.

"I am nice! It's not my fault that-"

"We also talked about how nothing is your fault. People aren't out to get you, House. How can I make you understand that?"

"Not in my experience," he mumbled.

"Well, thank God I'm here to protect you, huh?"

House wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or was trying to make him feel better. Hearing that she had to protect him was a massive blow to his ego. He didn't need anyone to defend him; he could handle himself.

"I don't need your protection."

"Uhhuh…. I want you to think of it this way, Greg."

"Don't call me that."

"…ory. If you were in any other hospital in the world, do you think they'd put up with your bullshit every day?"

"If I was also one of their best doctors? Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"House…." Cuddy pinched the bridge of her nose, knowing that this wasn't going anywhere at this point. Thankfully, she knew exactly how to get through to him. "Okay. If you don't want to listen, this is what we are going to do."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"House. Clinic work. Two hours. Now."

"That isn't fair!" House quickly stood up from the chair as if intimidating her would change the fact her mind was made up.

"Are you a doctor or a child?"

"Can't I be both? That's how people see me anyways."

"I'm not talking about this anymore. Go."

House snatched up his backpack next to the chair, throwing it over his shoulder as he walked towards the door.

"Oh, and House?" He stopped in his tracks, letting out a groan as he turned around. "Don't forget - your new hires start today."

"New hires?"

Cuddy rested her hands on her desk, staring at him, wondering if he was serious.

"Right… new hires. Of course… how could I ever forget."

"The doctors you had me interview for you. Remember?"

House waved a finger towards her, acting as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. All he could remember about any new hires was that he was given a stack of files of people he would have hired. Apparently, he ignored the fact that he was seriously hiring these people for his team. House couldn't remember anything about his apparent employees, let alone their names. Oh well. He could fake it.

"Remember." House tapped the side of his head before opening the door. "Of course. I remember everything."

"Straight to the clinic!"

"I'm going!" He called from the hallway.

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

Sitting in the waiting room, House had propped his feet up on the coffee table, reading an old magazine that he must have read at least a thousand times. When would they update their collection? Oh well, it's better than having to deal with all of these idiots who come in thinking they're dying when, in reality, it was just the common cold.

Another hour of doing this.

"House!"

Lovely.

He sunk further down into his seat as if that would hide him from his boss. If only that worked.

Dr. Cuddy snatched the magazine from his hands, tossing it on the coffee table beside his feet. Only for her to nudge him until he moved his feet from the table.

"Get up."

"Wrong magazine for that." He stared at the file that she was holding out to him. He let out a defeated sigh; whoever snitched on him from the reception desk didn't want to make his life easy. "What is this?"

"Good luck."

Rolling his head back, House let out a groan before standing up. He grabbed his backpack before flipping through the file as he started walking towards the exam room. A tear in the throat? Okay, that could be interesting.

House swung the door open, throwing his backpack in as hard as he could so it skidded across the floor until it bumped into the wall.

"Good morning!" House shouted upon seeing how worried the patient and the person with them were. Had to shake them up a little more; that was always the fun of it. "What's wrong with you?" He questioned, slamming the door shut behind him.

“I… are you…” The man trailed off, to be stopped when House held up his ID card.

"Dr. House. You're Robert Smith?" The patient only nodded, having difficulty wrapping his head around the fact that this was his doctor. Not considering the age, but the way he was dressed and his entrance. The oversized flannel shirt with a t-shirt underneath. "Ripped something in your throat?" House continued reading from the file.

"Yes, sir."

"Pain? Burning?" Dr. House questioned as he washed his hands and threw on some gloves. "When did this happen?" He grabbed a tongue depressor, sitting on the stool before pushing himself towards him.

"No pain…. I noticed it yesterday."

"No pain," Dr. House repeated under his breath. He waved his hand. "Open your mouth."

As soon as House pressed the tongue depressor down on his tongue, he flinched when the patient coughed on him. It only took two seconds for House to determine that…. There was nothing wrong. No rips, no tears. Nothing.

"Trying some kinky shit? Got paranoid?" House questioned, sitting back on the stool and looking between the two. "What am I looking for?"

"Do you not see it?" The woman with him snapped, motioning towards him. "Look again. You barely-"

"Well, I see who wears the pants." House let out a frustrated sigh, scooting back closer to him. "Open."

No blood…. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. No sore throat.

"I give up," House stated. "You seem to be a doctor. What am I looking for?"

The woman groaned, moving to stand next to House.

"It's right there!" She shouted, causing House to flinch again from the loud noise.

"Where?"

"Are you sure you're a doctor?"

House let out a frustrated sigh, trying to keep himself calm and under control. They were making it rather difficult.

"Show me then." House rolled out of the way, handing the tongue depressor over to her, knowing that he should never do it, but if she knew everything.

"Right there!" She reached into her boyfriend's mouth.

"Don't-"

Without getting his words out quickly, the patient began to gag, getting ready to throw up. House, being House, was no help to them. He watched smugly while the patient threw up on the woman.

"What's wrong with you?!" She shouted at him.

"I'm sorry!" Smith responded, wiping the saliva off his face.

At that moment, House could put two and two together, looking between them. Were they serious? Were they trying to waste his time, or were they two of the dumbest people he had the pleasure of meeting that day?

"Hold on…." House motioned for Smith to open his mouth again. "Are you both talking about this?" He pointed at the uvula.

"Yes!"

"I have just received a gift…." House mumbled to himself, standing up and grabbing his file from the counter. "You do know what a uvula is, don't you?"

The couple looked at each other, their faces drained of all colour at this point.

"That's normal. There is no tear. Thank your insurance for me."

Smith scoffed. "It is not normal!"

House rolled his eyes. "You. Open your mouth." He directed at the girl.

"Wha- Why?"

"Open."

Complying, she opened her mouth just for House to stick a tongue depressor in her mouth.

"See that? She has it, too."

"What does it do?"

"Keeps you from shooting food and water out your nose." House opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out so they could see his own uvula.

The exam room door opened, causing House to turn around with his mouth still open. Cuddy was standing there, confused about what she had just walked into. House had both hands in both mouths with his mouth open and his tongue sticking out.

"I… What is going on?"

"Teaching them what a uvula is. I'm actually glad you're here, Dr. Cuddy."

"Oh no…."

House moved away from them, ripping his gloves off. "Open your mouth."

"Excuse me?"

"Help me out with a consult."

"Are you kidding me? No, get away from me!"

"Help me out!" House gently grabbed Cuddy's face until she reluctantly opened her mouth. "See? Uvula. We all have one!" Cuddy pushed his hand away from her face. "Can you do me a favour?"

"What?" They both asked at the same time.

House grabbed a prescription pad from his back pocket, flipping it open to a new page.

"I need you both to start taking this."

"House!" Cuddy snapped upon seeing what he was prescribing them. "No!"

"This is a sedative," he continued, ignoring his boss's protest. "Please take three if either of you ever decide to waste my time again. Four if it's really idiotic. You'll be so high you won't even remember what it was." When he ripped it out and tried handing it over to them, Cuddy snatched it from him, pushing him out of the exam room. "I was doing my job!" House shouted upon hearing Cuddy apologise to both of them for his 'behaviour.' Which wasn't out of line in his eyes. They come in for stupid questions; he would waste their time equally.

"Aw man, it's all the joys of doing this, huh?"

House quickly turned around to see thirty-two-year-old Dr. Wilson standing behind him, eating a cupcake, which only made him a little jealous as he wanted one now.

"Where did you get that?"

"Doesn't matter."

They were both silent momentarily before something in House's brain clicked.

"Wait, what are you doing here?"

"IOU to Cuddy."

"Eesh. If you want, you can choke on your snack, and we both can get out of here."

Wilson laughed at this; he had to admit that there were times that House could be funny rather than downright rude and mean, so he had to give him credit where it was due. It wasn't often that House caused him to laugh. All the young doctor knew was that his expression would fall whenever he did, and his heart would drop into his stomach. For someone who was a know-it-all, he surely didn't have an explanation as to why this was his reaction upon hearing somebody laugh, especially since hearing it from anybody else was like nails on a chalkboard. House could feel his face heating up; he had to turn away quickly so Wilson wouldn't see.

The exam door swung open, and the couple practically stormed out without glancing at Dr. House.

"What did you do?" Wilson questioned, tilting his head to the side with a puppy dog look.

As soon as House opened his mouth to speak to clear his good name since he would never do anything wrong, let alone upset a patient, Cuddy quickly followed after. She shoved House's backpack into his arms, giving him that disappointed mother look.

"Your office later?" House quickly asked with a slight smile on his face, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Wow. You're so smart." Rolling her eyes, Cuddy stormed off, hoping she could smooth this entire thing over in case it somehow escalated.

"Think she's mad?"

"Nah. You would never upset her, House."

"That's what I'm saying. Probably just a slap on the wrist."

Wilson hummed, holding out half of the cupcake he had been snacking on to him. "Big day for you, isn't it?"

"What're you talking about?" House questioned before taking a rather large bit of the food. "Every day's a big day for me."

"Isn't it the day that your new hires start?"

"Interesting…."

Before Wilson could ask what the hell he was on about, House wandered off without another word.

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

"So, have either of you even met Dr. House yet?" Dr. Cameron questioned the other two newly hired doctors, trying to break the silence between them while they waited.

Chase and Foreman looked at each other, shrugging before looking back to Cameron.

"No… Dr. Cuddy was the one who interviewed me," Chase explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, me too," Foreman agreed.

"Man, he sounds like an ass," an unknown voice came from behind a magazine, sitting across from the three new doctors. The young man, who couldn't be any older than mid-twenties, quickly dropped the magazine to his lap. He didn't appear to be a doctor of any sort; he didn't have a badge or a white coat. "Why take a job if you haven't met your boss yet?"

The three doctors looked at each other, not understanding who he was or what he was trying to get at.

"Sorry?" Chase questioned.

The young man shrugged, sinking further into his seat as he tossed the magazine back onto the end table beside him.

"I'm just noisy, that's all." He pulled his phone out from his front pocket, quickly checking the time. "I think… he's late."

"You…." Foreman trailed off. Were there four of them hired? From what he understood, only three of them were supposed to have been employed for this position. The man shrugged, taping his foot against the tiled floor.

"You have got to be kidding me," Cuddy's voice came from behind the new doctors, earning a small smile from the man. "House… Stop messing around."

House? This was Dr. House?

"How-"

"Twenty-five," House answered, cutting Cameron off immediately, knowing what she was going to ask. He always got that question; in fact, he still had trouble getting in, even with his badge. He quickly bounced up from his seat, seeming eager suddenly. "Any questions?"

"Uhm…" Chase was trying to think of something to ask that had nothing to do with House's age or questioning his job title. Surely, he had a fantastic education if he was an M.D. and their boss. "What's your shirt say?" He thought of quickly.

House looked down, not remembering what he had on. Had to admit, he threw on whatever he could get his hands on this morning. Gaslighting isn't real. You're just crazy.

"Cool, huh?"

Cuddy hummed, folding her arms over her chest.

"We've talked about dress code, have we not?"

"We have. Not that I care."

"Okay…." Cuddy pulled out three brand new pagers from her white coat pocket. "If any of you need anything at all, feel free to get a hold of me."

"Wait, wait, wait…." House called out before Cuddy got too far away, pulling out his own pager from his pocket. He spun it around in his hands before looking up at her. "Why do they get new ones? Mine-"

"Looks like shit. Yeah, I wonder why." Cuddy turned and began to walk away. "Take care of your stuff, and maybe you'll get nice things." She called from down the hall.

Tossing the scratched-up, sticker-covered pager in the air, House attempted to catch it only to, whether intentionally or accidentally, miss it as it fell onto the floor. The thud caused House's head to shoot up just as Cuddy looked over her shoulder, flashing him a look that screamed he needed to stop messing around. No wonder he didn't get anything nice.

"Fifty bucks for whoever wants to give me theirs."

Silence.

"Well, you guys are no fun."

House let out a frustrated groan before he dramatically bent down, sweeping the small box up from the floor. Without saying anything, he began to walk away from the confused group, assuming that they were going to follow after him. When he didn't hear their echoed footsteps, he only motioned for them to follow without saying a word.

"That's our boss?" Chase whispered to the others.

"I'm gonna say… unfortunately?" Foreman offered.

"C'mon!" House shouted for them as he repeatedly pressed the elevator button.

Exactly five times, Cameron couldn't help but notice. She watched closely after the fifth press, mentally counting the seconds until he started pressing the button again.

Waits five seconds before hitting the button precisely five times.

Not that it mattered in the slightest. Cameron just had a way of observing people and could quickly pick up on their little quirks, although, from a couple of minutes of meeting Dr. House, she could tell that he had many quirks.

The elevator beeped loudly, letting the group know the doors were about to open. It pulled Cameron out of her thoughts as she stepped inside with the rest of them. She watched as House pressed 2 once again five times in a row. Anxiety? OCD? Maybe he thought something terrible would happen if he didn't push it in a sequence.

While she was busy trying to piece together bits and pieces of House's behaviour, she didn't take in the bigger picture. The first lesson they were going to learn was that nobody was able to read House before they were read by him. Although, he couldn't help but be slightly impressed at how she was going about it, staying silent, watching his every move. This could make for exciting employment.

The entirety of the walk from the elevator to House's office was them listening in silence as House rambled on about something they couldn't even keep up with. One second, they thought they were on track with the conversation, only for him to switch it up and say something completely off the wall and off-topic. Chase would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't reconsidering his position here, but a job like this comes rarely, so he'd have to suck it up and deal with it.

"And this is my office!" House stated loudly as they approached the overly open office space with way too many windows and his name printed on the door. "Don't bother me unless you're dying." House shrugged a shoulder. "Or, I guess, if a patient is dying. Unless they're dying, and it's your fault. In that case, deal with it yourself."

He opened the door, but he stopped just as he was about to go inside.

"Let me make one thing clear: if anyone touches anything in my office… moves anything even an inch, I will kill myself." He drummed on the plastic door frame. Exactly five times while looking directly at Cameron. "Got it? Any questions?"

Chase awkwardly raised his hand.

"Yeah. You."

"What should we do now?"

House looked at the small end table that was cluttered with patient files needing his attention. Well, he had them now, so he could delegate what he found too boring out to them.

"Save some lives. That's why you're here, right?" House scooped up the files and loose papers before practically shoving them into Chase's arms. "Go crazy."

"Wait, so that's it?" Foreman quickly asked, not believing this was how his first day would go. "You're handing off your patients?"

House shrugged.

"What's the point of you, my little ducklings, if I can't assign you work?"

Ducklings?

"Tell me, without too much thought, what does that first case bring to mind?"

Feeling flustered all of a sudden, Chase flipped the folder open, scanning for keywords or anything that would be important. It seemed that House already had the answer in mind, so he didn't want to disappoint him by giving him the wrong answer.

"Uh… I would say… low blood sugar?"

"Exactly!" House hit his open palm against the door frame. "Boring! Deal with it."

"What if it turns out to be something else?" Cameron questioned, only to regret it as House chuckled, hanging his head down before lifting it against quickly, hopefully not giving himself whiplash.

"Diagnose. Treat. Move on. Unless they have rabies, a brand new plague, or superpowers, I don't want to hear about it. Go on." He waved his hands to indicate that he wanted them to shoo. "Have at it. Sink or swim. Or don't, I don't really care. I'm sure you'll be just fine. Hired you all for a reason, right? Get to work."

#ao3 #fanfic #house md #Young!House AU #My AU #my writing #fanfiction #Young Dumb and Broken AU #Young Dumb and Broken Main Fic

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