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atlabeth · 2 years

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everything happens for a reason part 19 - zuko x fem!reader

Can we go back to the world we had? With a love so sweet it makes me sad

part 18 | masterlist | part 20

a/n: this is kinda the filler before a very important chapter but it does reestablish yn with her friends and explores some of her trauma from the past couple of months so that's also important. we're moving away from the angst a little bit though so that's good right lmao

wc: 7k (holy shit we're almost at 100k)

warning(s): some more angst (both normal and zuko related), discussions of trauma, a lil bit of fluff

chapter title comes from 1965 by zella day! (a song that i think fits this part of their relationship shockingly well)

When Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, it was in a cold sweat, barely able to bite back the rising scream.

She looked around her room with wild eyes, her surroundings not registering in her mind for the first few fearful moments. She was used to the claustrophobia of four walls, a space that got smaller every time she thought of it. She was used to a dryness in the air that left her permanently parched, to an unbearable tension that was drawn tighter with each passing day, to the constant paranoia that plagued her mind more and more, wondering if her next moment would be when her luck finally ran out.

But she wasn’t there. She wasn’t back in the Fire Nation, and she wasn’t in that sorry excuse for a cell in the Boiling Rock.

She was at the Western Air Temple. She was reunited with her friends, and she was safe.

Y/N let out a long, deep breath as she tried to ground herself again. She was no stranger to nightmares, but it looked like she was getting an opportunity to become even more familiar with them.

(The spirits certainly had enough material for her, she thought wryly.)

It was then that she heard the shifting of sheets, and she looked over to see Katara stirring with a yawn.

“Oh, spirits,” she said, “I’m so sorry for waking you up.”

Katara shook her head as she rubbed her eyes. “No—no, you’re fine. I’ve just been an early riser for the past month or so.”

“I totally woke you up,” Y/N muttered.

She offered a small smile. “Maybe you did, but it’s not like I care. You can wake me up ten times a night for the rest of my life and I’d be fine with it—Y/N, you’ve been gone for months, and now we’re back together. That’s all that matters to me.”

Her eyes softened, and she felt a warmth in her chest that she’d dearly missed. “Katara… you don’t know how much it means being back here. Not just here, but here.” Y/N gestured around the room. “Letting me stay here with you. I know you probably like your privacy after sharing a room all your life, so I really appreciate it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Katara laughed as she sat up in her bed, but when she looked at Y/N her gaze was completely earnest. “I didn’t know if I was ever going to see you again. When you were gone, I wished I was able to have nights like these again—you don’t even know how much I missed our little sleepovers.”

Y/N chuckled. “I missed them a lot too.”

“Exactly,” she nodded. “So you don’t have to apologize for taking up space. Because—” Katara shook her head, her smile fading a bit as it all came back— “because I missed you. We all did.”

Katara’s words were enough to make her cry—and she nearly did, turning away slightly to wipe away the tears that had welled up.

The first night that Y/N spent on her own did not go well. She’d spent so long in isolation, first in the palace prisons and then at the Boiling Rock, that she thought it would just be natural. But now that all of her energy wasn’t purely spent on survival, she had way too much of it to go towards nightmares.

It had gone on like that for the next three days—she didn’t want to bother her friends, especially after they’d already gone through so much for her—and so she spent the nights trying to sleep, then acting as if she wasn’t exhausted the rest of the day after waking prematurely from creations of her own mind.

Of course, her friends were more attentive than she gave them credit for, and on the fourth day Katara pulled her aside and demanded to know what was wrong. When Y/N reluctantly admitted that she was having trouble sleeping alone because of nightmares, Katara instantly offered her room up.

It was honestly a relief, not having to be on her own. Even the soft ambiance of Katara’s steady breathing was like music to her ears, the knowledge that she wasn’t alone anymore. It was overwhelming.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked tentatively. “Obviously only if you’re okay with it, but… I’ve found that talking things like this out usually helps.”

“It’s just prison stuff,” Y/N said, trying to brush it off. “I don’t want to bother you with it.”

Katara frowned. “‘Just prison stuff’. You know, that’s not a normal thing to say.”

“I guess not,” she said dryly.

“What you’ve been through…” she shook her head. “It’s horrible, Y/N, and I’m so glad that you’re finally out of it. If you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s completely fine. But just know that you could never bother me, and I’m here for you. Always.”

She smiled and nodded. Those words meant more to her than Katara knew. “Thank you. Really.”

“Of course,” Katara said with a smile of her own. She ran her fingers through her hair a bit to fix some of its unruliness, then stood up and stretched her arms. “Now, whaddya say we start our day?”

“I’d say that’s a pretty good idea.”

Zuko sighed as he watched Y/N, Katara, and Suki from a distance; they were all talking and laughing together over some rice bowls. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Y/N’s grin, the sound of her laughter—he didn’t realize how much he’d missed it until he no longer had it.

She never directed that happiness towards him. Not anymore. And as much as it hurt him, he couldn’t do a single thing about it. Spirits, he deserved the cold shoulder—he was lucky she put it aside for their escape; otherwise, his fight against his sister might’ve gone differently.

“I’m ready to get back to my lessons, Sifu Hotman!”

He turned around to see Aang walking towards him, stretching out his arms. It was still strange at moments, teaching him after so many months spent trying to capture him. Zuko was thankful beyond belief for his graciousness.

The Avatar had been a wonderful student since their visit to the Sun Warriors, and though he still had some worries, his natural talent on its own was incredible to work with.

But he was also a very good observer.

He must not have even realized it, but he couldn’t help glancing back over at the girls, still talking and laughing together. Y/N’s smile was especially big, and it was still one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. Zuko’s heart twisted painfully, knowing that he was the reason so much of it was taken away from her.

They would really never be the same again. And he was to blame for it all.

“Maybe lessons can wait,” Aang said thoughtfully. “You’ve got other things on your mind.”

Zuko’s attention immediately snapped back over to the Avatar, and he scowled. “Lessons can’t just wait. We’re on a schedule.”

“You’re obviously not focused.” Aang looked over at the three girls and then back at Zuko. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?”

Zuko’s frown deepened and he turned away. “No.”

“How do you expect to fix anything with her if you can’t even admit that you’re thinking about her?” Aang walked over and sat down next to him, crossing his legs as he leaned forward. “You hurt her a lot, Zuko, but it’s obvious that she still cares about you.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked, staring at the ground. “I betrayed her completely. I’m the reason she was in prison for so long. I— I told her I never loved her.” Zuko looked at Aang, and his eyes held a deep, desperate kind of pain. “I’m the one that broke her. How could she possibly want my help to put herself back together?”

“I don’t know,” Aang admitted. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, or that it’s instantly going to happen. She needs time to heal and work through everything, and it’s possible that she won’t want anything to do with you for a long time. But you can’t give up on the things you love.”

“I do love her,” Zuko murmured. “More than anything.”

“Then you’ll be able to figure it out. It’ll take a lot of time and a lot of hard work, but I have a feeling you’ll end up getting through it together.”

Zuko looked back at Aang, his brow slightly creased. “How do you always know what to say?”

He smiled and shrugged. “Call it Avatar wisdom.”

“...Right.”

Aang chuckled a bit and stood up. “Are you okay to train today, or do you need some time off?”

Zuko scowled and stood up as well, his worries temporarily ceased. “I’m the one teaching you, not the other way around. You’re not the one to give me breaks.”

“There he is,” Aang smiled. “Good ol’ Sifu Hotman’s back.”

He crossed his arms. “I’m fine to train today. Start with twenty hot squats.”

His smile disappeared just as quickly he groaned. “Really, Zuko? I give you amazing advice and you repay me with this?”

“Do you want to get better at firebending or not?”

“Of course I do,” Aang said begrudgingly.

“Then your warmups are important,” Zuko said. “The last thing the world needs is for the Avatar to pull a hamstring when he’s fighting the Fire Lord.”

Aang heaved a sigh and put some distance between them to start his exercise. As he did, Zuko’s mind acted almost on its own as his gaze wandered back over to the girls.

To his surprise, when he looked over, he met Y/N’s eyes rather than her back. She had been watching him too, even if just for a second.

His eyes widened and his lips parted, trying to find the words to say anything, but just as quickly as their gazes had met, she averted contact.

But she had looked.

And to Zuko, that was hope.

Katara set the bucket down on the edge of the fountain and tapped the sides of it before turning to look at Y/N. “Alright. The same thing as last night. Are you ready to try again?”

“You know it’s going to be the same thing,” Y/N said quietly. “Why do you keep trying?”

“Because I’m not just going to accept that your bending is gone,” Katara stated. “And I refuse to let you give up on yourself like this.”

“But I’ve tried so many times before this,” she insisted. “My bending is gone, Katara, and it’s been gone since I was imprisoned in the Fire Nation. It doesn’t matter how hard I concentrate or how positive you are, it’s not going to work.”

There was a mix of emotions in Katara’s blue eyes, understanding and sadness and frustration all mingling as she tried to think of something to say. Y/N was trying to push her friend’s buttons—for what reason, she didn’t exactly know—but she just smiled.

“Not with that attitude,” she said. “Now, come on. Just like we learned in the North. Close your eyes.”

She looked down at her hands and flexed her fingers, the familiar power that used to flow through her completely absent. The surfaces were marred by rough calluses and small scars, a blended canvas that now represented both her journey across the Earth Kingdom and her imprisonment by the Fire Nation. While she usually wrapped bandages around her wrists and palms—the action had become a sort of comfort ever since she started doing it to protect her hands on her journey through the Earth Kingdom—Katara had insisted she remove them so as to remove any possible impediments. She was no longer a master, she was the lowest of students, and they were starting from the very beginning.

It was humiliating. If it weren’t for the fact that Katara was her teacher yet again, Y/N wouldn’t have been cooperating half as well.

“Close your eyes,” Katara repeated. “I know you don’t want to do this, but it’s worth another shot.”

“Did you get even bossier while I was gone?” Y/N asked jokingly, though she still closed her eyes.

“Someone had to keep the boys in check,” Katara responded, and she was able to hear her smile. “Now, take a deep breath in and let it out. Try and relax; loosen up.”

Relax. It was far easier said than done, especially when she didn’t think she had relaxed for a single moment the past couple of months. She was on the brink of death in the Fire Nation, was constantly on edge in the Boiling Rock—it took a good hour of flight on the airship for her to be able to settle down, and even that was after investigating the entire place to make sure there weren’t any Fire Nation hitchhikers.

Prison had changed her. And Y/N was terrified her friends wouldn’t like who she was forced to become.

“You’re not relaxing,” Katara said, interrupting her thoughts.

“I am!”

“No, you’re not.”

“Well— I’m trying.” Y/N opened her eyes to see Katara looking at her with soft eyes. “It’s just not working. It’s not going to work.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” she said. “I know this is frustrating. I… I don’t even know where I would start if I suddenly lost my bending. But you have to take it slow. Waterbending doesn’t work when you’re tense; you know that.”

“Waterbending doesn’t work when you’ve lost your bending,” she retorted, her words coming out a bit more forceful than she wanted. “Warmups for children aren’t going to help with anything.”

“Just humor me.” She moved her hand through the air slowly, pulling a stream of water from the fountain, then brought it down so that the small orb settled into the bucket she’d set down earlier. “Like you’ve done a million times before.” Katara’s expression was completely earnest, patient despite her continuous resistance. “Please?”

“...Fine,” Y/N conceded. “But I already told you, it’s not going to work.”

She closed her eyes again and took in a deep breath, memories of her very first waterbending lessons coming back to her.

The memory didn’t stem from the North with her healing teachers, or the royal palace with Master Rika—it came from the village she grew up in, sitting beside her mother by the river as she formed her very first water orb.

She remembered the brightness of her mother’s eyes, blue as the river that gave her power, the excitement in her claps and cheers as she took the first step in a lifelong journey. She remembered the cool air on her bare arms, the way the grass tickled her feet. She remembered the serenity of it all, the joy an inherent part of five-year-old Y/N’s life—she still had four years before it would all fall apart around her.

She took in a deep breath then slowly let it out, drawing on the memory as she tried her best to enter a calm headspace. She opened her eyes, focusing on the way the water streamed through the fountain, the way she could manipulate it in the same way.

Y/N flexed her fingers, raised her hand, and moved it through the air.

Nothing happened.

The moment that had been created was broken in an instant, and though Katara tried not to show anything, Y/N could see the brightness in her expression fade.

Katara just wanted what was best for her, to try and help her through an impossible experience, but it was fruitless. All it did was serve to make her feel even more useless.

More broken.

She let her hand fall down to her side and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, offering a mirthless smile to Katara. “Just like I told you. It won’t work.”

“Y/N, wait!”

But she had already turned around and set off on her own path, already trying to think of places no one could find her. She wanted to be alone, desperate for the one thing she’d grown to hate, because she couldn’t stand to see the look on her best friend’s face when she realized that her lack of bending wasn’t the only thing that had changed in her absence.

Y/N just barely managed to choke back a frustrated sob, screwing her eyes shut as she slammed her fists against the hard, unyielding stone of the wall she’d ended up at. Her emotions desperately needed an outlet, and now that she was alone she allowed the tears to stream down her face as she turned and slid against the wall until she hit the ground.

She knew her bending didn’t work. She knew it was gone, and it would be gone until she could figure out what in Kuruk’s name was wrong with her.

So why did she actually feel hope when Katara asked her to try again with all the conviction in the world? Why did she actually feel hope when the memory of her mother teaching her to bend came back?

Y/N didn’t know why she still felt hope at all.

She was having the world’s worst pity party for herself, letting more water she couldn’t bend trail down her cheeks and drip into a puddle on the ground, when she heard footsteps. She immediately brushed them away and tried to compose herself when she saw who it really was.

“Go away,” she said miserably as she fell back against the wall, the effort not even worth it. “I can’t deal with you right now, Zuko.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes slightly wide as he stood there not knowing what to do. “Agni’s flames, are— are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” she snapped. “I don’t need a therapy session. Go away.”

“No,” Zuko stated, and she had to admit, that shocked her.

“No?” she repeated.

“I’m not leaving you alone like this,” he said. “Not… not anymore.”

Y/N huffed a mirthless laugh. “Well, aren’t you just the greatest guy around.”

“I’m trying.” He was surprisingly earnest, surprisingly level in the face of her annoyance. It was in stark contrast to the Zuko in the prisons, the Zuko that denounced her without a second thought, but it was obvious that he was beginning to unravel. “I know I’m not perfect—spirits, I’m farthest thing from it—but I’m trying, Y/N. I’m trying to become better, and fix everything that I messed up, and—” he ran a frustrated hand through his hair— “and I just don’t know what else to do. I— I’ll do anything for you, Y/N, so what can I do to help you get through all this?”

“Unless you have a way of giving me the months back that I lost or undoing all the pain you caused me, then there’s nothing you can do.”

“How can there be nothing?” he exclaimed, wild desperation in his voice. “I— I can see that you’re hurting, everyone can see it, so there can’t just be nothing. You can’t just keep going on like this, you’re going to destroy yourself.”

“And when did you become the expert on all of this?” she asked, rising from the ground as she turned her fire fully on him. “I mean, you know a lot about destroying me, but what makes you think you know anything about this?”

“Because I went through it too,” he said, trying to cover up his wince from her remark. “I— I went through the worst turmoil I’ve ever experienced back in the Fire Nation. I gave up everything for a life I didn’t want, and I was destroying myself the same way you are because I couldn’t figure out how to get better. And…” Zuko sighed and he looked right at her, “and the thought of you was what brought me out of it. You were what made me realize I had to change. So it’s only right that I help you. It—” he swallowed the lump in his throat— “it’s the least I can do to make it all up to you.”

“You can’t begin to imagine what I went through,” she retorted, the red-hot anger simmering inside her about to boil over. “I was alone for weeks, Zuko, with only my mind to keep me company. Getting transferred to the Boiling Rock was a death sentence in itself, and if it hadn’t been Suki, I might not have even lasted long enough for Sokka to get there! Spirits, I was on the edge of death for months, wondering if I would ever see the people I love again, and you were living it up as the Crown Prince! You will never understand what I went through!”

“I wasn’t living it up!” Zuko’s voice rose now as well, his temper winning out. “The moment the fight was over, the moment you were taken away from the catacombs, I started doubting it all. I was walking on glass everywhere in the Fire Nation—none of the generals trusted me, all the servants were terrified when they were around me, and half the nation still saw me as a traitor. I couldn’t go a single second without thinking about how I had made the wrong decision— I was dying too, Y/N. I was barely eating or sleeping, and I knew my father was waiting for me to make a mistake so he could throw me out again. I mean,” he huffed a mirthless laugh, “he tried to kill me when I confronted him during the eclipse. I wasn’t living any kind of life.”

She went silent at that, and as much as she tried to prevent it, she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. He’d been tearing himself apart at the seams, more with every passing day. He, too, was an enemy in the Fire Nation, masquerading as a prince rather than actually bearing the title. His own father attempted to kill him when he tried to do the right thing.

“And I thought of you,” he said shakily, “I thought of you every single day. I think you were the only thing that got me through it all. My love for you got me through it all.”

And he loved her.

Still.

“So why do we have to argue like this?” Zuko asked desperately, and there was a sudden glimmer in his eyes, telling of tears. “Spirits, Y/N, all I want is to go back to what we had. I—” his voice broke for a moment, and he had to glance away— “I just want to be with you again. I want that more than anything.”

Zuko’s words were so genuine, so painstakingly soft that it would’ve been easy to believe them. The naive part of her, the side that trusted him again and again despite everything, wanted to believe them, to put aside all the anger and hurt festering inside of her and just let it go. It would’ve been easy to believe them. It would’ve been easy to give in.

But she couldn’t. She could never forget what he did.

“Because you’re the reason my bending is gone,” she said coldly.

His eyes widened at that, and she took a sick sense of pride in the instinctive step he took back. “...What?”

“It’s gone because of you,” she repeated angrily. “What you told me, about how you got your own bending back and how you lost it in the first place—I realized pretty quickly that you were the reason my bending disappeared. I mean,” she laughed, but it was completely hollow, “it wasn’t just a coincidence that I lost it after I was thrown in prison.” She looked him dead in the eye. “That I lost it after you betrayed me.”

“That— that doesn’t make sense,” he stammered. “When I lost mine, it was because my anger towards the Avatar wasn’t there anymore to fuel my bending—”

“And I lost mine because every bit of my freedom was taken away from me,” she replied smoothly. “Waterbending is about flexibility, about adapting—I went from exploring the whole world to being trapped in a jail cell. I’d say that’s the opposite of flexibility.”

“You know how to fix it, then,” Zuko said. “What do you need to do? How can I help?”

“I don’t need your help,” she clipped. “Besides. I don’t think I’m going to be getting my bending back anytime soon.”

He frowned. “What? Why? You know why it’s gone, why—”

“I have to forgive you to get my bending back,” she interrupted stiffly, and Zuko froze completely. “And I will never forgive you for what you did to me.”

The tension didn’t leave with her as she walked past him, so thick it could be cut with a knife. Zuko felt a lump building in his throat as his eyes burned, and he blinked back the tears that he didn’t deserve to let fall. He couldn’t help but watch her go, but it just hurt him even more.

Because when she walked away, she didn’t look back.

After leaving Zuko, Y/N had busied herself with various things until nightfall, and thankfully, she was left alone. She felt awful for how she had treated Katara earlier, but she just didn’t know how to explain any of it. She must’ve known she needed space, because most of the day was spent with everyone doing their own thing. Y/N mainly spent it alone, washing clothes and mending wear and tear, and exploring the air temple.

It was beautiful, all the space almost overwhelming after her surroundings for the past few months. She tried her best to stay in the moment as she walked around, determined not to let her own thoughts ruin her afternoon more than she already had.

(It was getting hard, fighting herself like that all the time.

And it was more than a little scary, that so much of what she felt was anger.)

But day had turned to night, and with it, misgivings had been set aside if only for a moment. The group was gathered in a loose circle around the atrium, and the mood had, temporarily, been brought back up as Sokka told stories recounting everything Y/N had missed. She sat between Hakoda and Suki, and if there was one thing more amusing than learning about everything she had been absent for, it was seeing the reactions of his girlfriend and his father.

(“I can’t believe that plan worked,” Suki muttered in begrudging admiration after learning about the time Aang got himself in trouble at a Fire Nation school.

"What can I say?" Sokka grinned. "I'm a genius.")

(“You did what to a Fire Nation factory?” Hakoda marveled, staring at his daughter in disbelief.

“...We blew it up?” she said hesitantly.

Hakoda grinned. “You are definitely my daughter.”)

(“Bloodbending?” Y/N’s eyes widened to the size of plates at the horrific story. “That’s a thing we can do?”

“Only on a full moon, and only the strongest waterbenders.” Katara spoke quietly. “I have no doubt you could do it, but I don’t think you want to. It’s… it’s horrible.”

She decided to leave the topic there.)

(“You and Toph got thrown in jail?” Y/N chuckled. “Guess I was actually with you guys all along.”

Katara frowned. “You went through terrible conditions for months. You thought you were going to die there. That’s not funny.”

“Oh, so I go through all of that and I’m not even allowed to joke about it?”)

(“You learned sword fighting from a Fire Nation master?” Suki grinned. “Impressive, Sokka.”

“Yup,” he responded, and he flexed a bicep. “I’m pretty much a master myself, now.”

“Now you actually stand a chance when we spar,” she mused.)

Their conversation finally came to a head when Sokka got to the day of the invasion.

“It was incredible!” he exclaimed. “So many people that we had met along our journey came back and helped us invade the Fire Nation.” He looked at Y/N. “I wish you could’ve been there just so you could have worked with us. It was beautiful.”

She smiled wistfully. “I wish I could’ve been there too. I mean, after they kept us inside the prison all day I wanted to fight someone.”

Katara chuckled, but it led into a sigh. “It was a great invasion; it should’ve gone flawlessly. But somehow the Fire Nation already knew about it—if they didn’t, I know we would have succeeded.”

“It was probably my sister,” Zuko muttered. “Somehow, she always knows exactly what’s going on. I wouldn’t be surprised if she figured it out and told our father.”

“Azula,” Sokka grumbled. “You know, I have some things I’d like to say to her, Zuko. She has been a pain in my side ever since—”

“Stop,” Toph said suddenly.

He frowned. “I deserve to rant, I’m not—”

“Stop!” she repeated, and she held out her hands as she stood up. “Do you guys hear that?”

Y/N didn’t hear anything. But Aang stood up and grabbed his staff, and he’d only taken a few steps forward before a projectile came flying towards them.

Aang acted immediately, using his airbending to launch it away. They all stared in the distance, completely wide-eyed, and hardly a moment later it exploded.

“We’re under attack!” Sokka yelled, and he immediately jumped up from his spot. “Everyone, gather your things—we gotta get out of here!”

Haru nodded, already starting to help Teo back into his wheelchair. Alongside The Duke and Chit Sang, they began to pack up camp faster than ever before.

“Who could have found us out here?” Toph asked.

“Who do you think?” Zuko said angrily, cracking his knuckles as he stood up.

Three Fire Nation airships rose out of the abyss, shooting more and more bombs. Their target wasn’t them, but rather the infrastructure itself. The Western Air Temple was centuries old—it wouldn’t stand up against modern Fire Nation technology. And when it went down, all of them would go down with it.

Aang did his best, using his airbending to repel bombs wherever he could, but he was only one boy. The temple started crumbling around them, and Aang harnessed a wave of airbending to force the metal doors surrounding the atrium shut.

“It’ll buy us some time,” he said, turning to face the rest of them, “but we need to get out, now!”

Y/N nodded and stood up, when all of a sudden she heard the crumbling of rocks above her. She was only able to glance up for a second before she heard someone yelling, “watch out!” and she was tackled out of the way, landing on the ground hard.

They rolled together for a second before a hand was braced on the rock next to her, keeping her in place and allowing her dizziness to go away. But when she focused on just who had saved her, that anger boiled inside her again.

“What are you doing?” she growled.

“Keeping you from being crushed!” Zuko exclaimed, and when she looked back, she saw a huge mound of rocks in the spot she had just been standing.

“I’m not crushed,” she said, “so get off of me!”

Zuko complied as she shot back to her feet, but she noticed the sass in his voice. “I’ll take that as a thank you.”

Y/N ignored him as she brushed the dust off of her prison clothes—not that she cared much for them, but she would prefer if they didn’t become even more uncomfortable—and saw Toph and Haru earthbending through the rocks to create an exit for them.

“Come on!” Toph shouted. “We can get out through here!”

Katara grabbed Y/N’s hand to get her moving and they all ran towards the tunnel. The majority of them had gotten through but Aang was still struggling to get Appa to move. The chaos of the explosions had him spooked, and he wasn’t exactly the best with underground spaces.

“Come on, Appa!” He groaned with effort as he pulled on his reins, but then his eyes widened as they focused on something else. “Wait, what are you doing?”

Zuko wasn’t with them—he was standing in front of them all, facing the airships. When he looked back at them, made eye contact with her for the slightest moment, she could see his expression was hardened.

“I’m gonna hold them off,” he said. “I think this is a family visit.”

“Zuko, no!” Aang shouted, but it was too late. He had already run off in the direction of the airships, vaulting over the metal shutters that were breaking more and more with every second. They were running out of time.

“He’s an idiot,” Y/N muttered, but she focused back on Aang and his struggle with Appa and ran over to help him. Katara and Sokka were right behind her, as usual.

(She missed it, the siblings always having her back. She missed them.)

“Come on!” Sokka exclaimed, and the four of them began pulling on Appa’s reins trying to get him to move. “We’ve gotta get out of here!”

“I don’t think Appa’s going anywhere,” Y/N grumbled, her thin moccasins failing to find purchase on the smooth stone floor as she tugged on the reins.

“Me neither,” Aang lamented, and he craned his head back to look at Toph. “We can’t get him to go in there! Appa hates tunnels; we’re not gonna be able to get him through!”

“There’s no way we can fly out of here,” Katara said. “There’s three airships out there, we’ll get hit immediately!”

“We can find a way,” he insisted. “I can airbend them away and guide Appa through—”

“It won’t work,” Sokka interrupted. “There’s too many of them. We have to split up.” He looked at the half gathered by the tunnels, his expression grim but set. “You guys go through the tunnel and take the stolen airship. The rest of us will find another way.”

“What?” Katara cried, outraged as she reached out for Hakoda. “We— we can’t split up; we just all got back together! The Fire Nation can’t separate our family again!”

“It’ll be okay, Katara,” Hakoda said. Though his smile was reassuring, Y/N could see the sadness, the reluctance in his eyes. “It’s not forever. We’ve found each other twice—we’ll do it again.”

“...Okay,” Katara said, and she swallowed her tears as she pulled Hakoda and Sokka into a crushing hug.

Y/N smiled at the sight, but she couldn’t help but long for her mother. She would have to visit her as soon as she could—as soon as this was over.

(And there was another destination she would have to visit, she thought sadly. A visit that was long overdue, that was becoming more painful to think about as the days passed.)

She was snapped out of her thoughts as Sokka spoke again.

“We’ll see you all on the other side.”

Hakoda nodded, that confident stoicism back once again, and they all parted ways yet again. Katara grabbed Y/N’s hand, Sokka grabbed Suki’s, and they stopped next to Aang in the middle of the atrium.

“What now?” Y/N asked.

“I can clear that way,” Toph said, her hand planted against the rock wall. “We’ll be able to fly out from there.”

Katara reached a hand down and helped Suki up onto Appa’s back, then Y/N. She dropped her bag of meager belongings onto the back of his saddle and reached a hand down to pull Sokka the rest of the way up.

Aang and Toph joined them as Suki voiced her concerns. “There’s… a lot of fire in that direction.”

“We’ll get through,” Aang said. “Hold on, everyone.”

Y/N gripped the side of the saddle, and it was ridiculous, how even the leather of the saddle was. Spirits, how she’d missed being with her friends.

She clenched her jaw and tightened her hold as they burst out of the stone surrounding them, Toph using her bending to keep a shield of rock as protection on Appa’s frontside. Azula shot blue fire at them, and though some of the heat seeped through the cracks, it held strong.

Azula’s wild gaze was focused purely on them, but then another airship rose up, and Y/N’s eyes widened.

Zuko stood tall, feet planted, alive by some insane measure. Going against Azula was a death sentence in itself, but in this kind of scenario, when she was surrounded by backup and he was standing alone, it was even dangerous.

“What is he doing?” Y/N whispered angrily, and she missed the look that Sokka and Aang gave each other behind her back.

“He’s trying to right his wrongs,” Sokka said with a glance at her. An emotion rose in her chest that she couldn’t describe, and she was forced to look away, focusing back on the battle.

Zuko and Azula fought each other with a rage only held by siblings scorned. The mix of blues and oranges would have been beautiful if not tragic, and once again Y/N felt that twinge of sympathy. That was something she couldn’t understand about Zuko—his relationship with his sister; why he continued to hope for her despite everything that had happened.

Oh, she thought, the familiarity of it striking.

She already knew why.

But she wasn’t able to linger in her thoughts as they went through the midst of the danger, Aang being pushed to his limit as he pulled on the reins trying to guide Appa through the fire blasts from the soldiers. Katara jumped up and flicked open the cap on her waterskin, forming the water into whips to extinguish anything that got too close.

Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off the battle, and her breath caught in her throat as the scene suddenly exploded into a huge barrage of smoke.

“What happened?” she cried out, well-aware of the panic in her voice but too distressed to care. “Where did they go?”

“They must have met with their blasts,” Sokka said. “They were too powerful and it caused the explosion—there’s way too much force from something like that to handle. They’ve gotta be—”

“There!” Aang shouted, and their attention all snapped towards the open air.

Zuko was free-falling, and Y/N, without thinking, leaned as far as she could out of the saddle—so far that she nearly fell herself, and Sokka grabbing her waist to keep her steady might’ve been the only thing keeping her there—and extended her arm as far as it could go in Zuko’s direction as Aang guided them closer.

By some miracle she managed to reach Zuko, their fingers barely touching at first and then their hands moving to grip each other’s wrists simultaneously. His hand was hot to the touch, smoldering from his explosive firebending, but she used all of her strength to pull him back into the saddle.

He collapsed in a heap, and for a moment, all they could do was stare at each other with wide eyes. Y/N didn’t realize she was still holding onto him until the heat sunk into her skin, and she tore herself away from him with a quick exhale.

“You’re an idiot for doing that,” she said hastily, turning away from him, and for a moment Zuko was completely starstruck, unable to take his eyes off of her.

It was only once he got over himself that he scrambled to the edge of the saddle, searching for his sister.

“There!” he called, and they all looked where he pointed.

Azula was falling through the open air, and for a split second, Y/N was able to see a rare panic in her eyes.

“She’s… not gonna make it,” he said quietly.

But just as quickly, Azula composed herself. She ripped her hairpiece out and shot herself over towards the mountain wall with her bending, stabbing the sharp end into the rock. She slid down a few meters, but just before the surface ended, she skidded to a stop. Her hair flowed loosely in the wind as she hung from one hand, watching them. Even with the distance, Y/N still felt a chill go down her spine.

“Of course she did,” he murmured. “She always does.”

Sokka collapsed against the side of the saddle, brushing a bead of sweat away with a larger-than-life sigh. “Tui’s gills, that was a disaster.”

“Most things involving Zuko and his sister are,” Y/N mumbled, but it was half-hearted as she stared off into the distance.

“Where do we go now?” Toph asked. “We’re on Azula’s radar; it has to be somewhere she can’t find us.”

“We’re in the Fire Nation,” Zuko said. “There’s a lot of islands dotted around here; she won’t have time to look through all of them.”

“An island is fine,” Katara said. “As long as we’re not drawing any attention, I don’t really care where we go.”

“Then an island it is,” Aang said.

And as they flew, quiet conversation being made between the rest of them, Y/N couldn’t help but look over at Zuko every once in a while. It was only when he was distracted, when he wouldn’t be able to tell that she was paying attention to him. But there was some kind of feeling in her chest, a tightness that she couldn’t get to disappear.

She was… scared. Scared for him when he went off to fight Azula, terrified for him when he nearly met his end in the hazy abyss.

The pure fear that struck her heart when she saw him falling through the open air, the instant relief that spread through her body when she pulled him back into the saddle and knew he was safe.

It evaporated the moment she realized the feelings running through her, but not before she felt undeniable heat rushing to her cheeks, something she hadn’t felt since their meetings in Ba Sing Se.

She was done with him. She was so sure that she had given up on him, fully turned her back.

But now…

Now, she wasn’t so sure.

And that, more than anything, was what terrified her.

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator @louderfortheback

atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris

ehfar tags: @chandies-sideblog @zacatecanaaaa @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895 @ilovespideyyy @whats-my-question @selfship-mishaps @ilistentotayswifttocope @i-make-questionable-choices @3leni @thatobsessedreader @lostgreekgod @oriontingz @zerode-unhinged @badpvn @mimi-sanisanidiot @adhdhufflepuff @aquaamethyst96 @hollyismentallyillhelp @holypoetrygarden @islandgayneery @pitrii-petra @jinxed-jk @veras-fanfic-reblogs @cloud-9ine @lucifersidepiece @kiskzawagnerwhore @froggi-00 @eajalova

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x reader fic #zuko #zuko fic #avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar fic #atla fic #avatar the last airbender fic #atla x reader #avatar x reader #sadie writes #ehfar

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neeko-system · 9 months

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SIGNALIS SPOILERS AND WHATNOT~~

finished my second playthrough of signalis, was going for the artifact ending. then loaded my save and got the memory ending. such a good game aaaa

the memory ending made me cry, it was really heartwrenching when ariane said sorry i dont remember, i just crumpled. watching elster be so exhausted was a lot.

not really sure if i understand the artifact ending. i feel like either its really vague (on top of all the other vagueness) or if im missing something. it kind of feels like a burial of arianes memory? like elster dies and we see ariane thikning about her and elster dancing in the wrecked ship? i’m not sure. maybe someone could give me their interpretation of it?

i also found out that theres a difficulty setting and really wished i had set it to survival before my second playthrough. woulda been nice!!! I do have one more ending so i might play the game again but might also just watch it on youtube and play the game again some other time(gotta let it ruminate so i can go back in with different eyes), I wanna get all the achievements anyways.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

all in all i fucking love this game a lot. very rarely do i replay a game so soon after playing it for the first time. its really tragic i’ll never get to experience this game for the first time again, but, so it goes. its such a beautiful game i will be thinking about it for a longgggggggggggg time. ive been wanting to talk about it so badly for so long but none of my friends have played it yet kyaaa!!! >_<

its crazy to me that the game exists the way it does. the style, the mechanics, the story, the music, everything about it oozes so much passion and care and thought. very few games have made me want to stare at every part of it to figure out how they made it look the way it did (THE GAME IS SO STYLISTICALLY RICH LIKE HOIW DID THEY DO ALL THAT) and the game mechanics are so nice to my brain, everything is so tactile and clicky and inventory management and ammo management and horror stratgey and the flesh and rust and death and love and lesbians and robots and anime!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

amazing game thank you rose engine, i hope they make more stuff because i really want to see it

edit:(thinking about the first time i played compared to the second. i was considerably less scared since i had a clue of waht was going on but the fear that i felt playing the first time was special to me. i really like games with stories about ‘time loops’ because the replay-ability is baked in in a cool way. especially with how the game throws information at you, viewing things again having experienced perspective shifts from information is really cool. seeing scenes again re-contextualized makes my brain go ^-^(hots quest ding sound) but going in completely blind and being afraid of everything (i especially remember being scared of the dream beach, i had literally no clue what to expect and it was nice) it all had a different flavor than the second time which is cool because i feel like i experience that kind of emotion change *with* elster. (girlie needs a FUCKING cuddle nap)

the way the game balances reality and the surreal i think is super neat. i love surrealist dream stuff a lot and i think that a video game is a super good medium for that kind of experiential stuff that really inspires me to wanna make video games. especially because then theres also this super nerdy sci fi stuff going on about robots and space regimes and magical tech(my favorite) and planetary systems and military systems and all that good shit. i similarly wanna get nerdy about stuff like military logistics while also telling a story about gay robots and girls that keep missing each other just barely in the space time continuum. i love that the game tells you a lot but also is vague and also says fuck you (affectionate) stop looking for answers and just feel it. it explains just the right amount to not feel esoteric while keeping enough vague to leave a lot up to interpretation/figure it out by playing it again/thinking about it. it plays with themes and reality and reoccuring symbolism and all that good shit that makes stories addicting to think about.) ((also one of the endings requiring beating the game once among other things that keep between playthroughs, yummyyy. games that know they are games/stories/worlds that are aware of themselves., thats good shit right there))

#willowposting #major ramblings #signalis #this game got my brain is a vice grip but far more sinister and far gayer #the brain rot set in deep and rooted very hard #can't believe one of the people that made the game is named yuri #its like they were born for this #i love games and stories that are so thematically dense they really get me thinkin #also god the soundtrack ive listened to it so many times #therse actually nothing i love more than the sound of metal pipes and industrial equipment #concrete and metal and pipes and bullets and blood and flesh #it really speaks to me #everything about it just touches my brain on such a fundamental level #the writing goes crazy #any game that makes me take out a notebook and start jotting down notes to solve puzzles is a instant fave for me #i love writing down codes and shit its so fun #also god have i mentioned the soundtrack #the dichotomy between the harsh metal and the serene piano melodies is actual crack to me #this game has been making me think about sci fi a lot #i wanna start drawing more because holy i need to make fanart of this game or i will explode #i gotta draw the girlies #its got a girl with white hair and red eyes like what am i supposed to do #playing the game isn't enough i need to become one with it in the flesh sea #ALSO FUCK #the game utilizing different perspectives swapping between third and first person #UTILIZING MEDIUMS FOR THEIR POTENTIAL AAAAA

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stillalittlelostngl · 1 year

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Academic Rivals to Lovers(ish) - Gojo/Reader HCs

Inspired by the below tweet - didn't mention reader crying here but ya that probably ended up happening at some point lol. Are these HCs or just the outline of a story? Is there really a difference?

Also - I only had one lab in college that I always skipped so idk how those things go down and i only have the stories my friends would tell me to go off of. so there's that disclaimer. Also gojo is kinda classist

Being a first gen college student meant that you probably took your just a tad more seriously than your peers. You had your family counting on you to do well after all - for as long as you could remember your family had stressed the importance of academic success. They had been obsessed with the idea of you being the first in the family of blue collar working class folk to get into university and become a doctor or a lawyer or some paper pusher in an office. Hell they didn’t even complain when you said you might be interested in majoring in studio art or theater. They didn’t particularly care what you decided to study when you got there - they were just concerned with you getting in and doing well in whatever you studied. You didn’t entirely understand their insistence but it meant a lot to them and so it meant a lot to you by extension and you’d do your best to make them proud.

You first noticed Gojo at orientation. You hadn’t learned much about him outside of him being some spoiled legacy student who had been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and a family who had sent him to the best boarding schools money could buy. The jealousy had stung ngl - how was it fair that everything in life was handed to him while you and your parents were working double shifts to pay your tuition because the scholarships would never cover as much as the university was asking for

You didn’t think much of him. He came off as a loud and haughty air head and you just didn’t have time to entertain that sorta thing.

Truthfully Gojo probably doesn’t even remember this first meeting - your face blended in with the rest of the incoming freshman class so easily and he’d never seen or heard your name before in his circle so you must not have been all that important

Ultimately you decided to major in a pretty competitive field. The upperclassmen had told you horror stories about students fighting over internships and jobs in the labs, trying to sabotage each other's grades, cheating, etc. etc. It was a dog eat dog world you were entering but you had faith you could survive 4 years. They’d be over and done before you noticed.

Boy had you been wrong. The upperclassmen had been very tame with their description of what the next few years of your life would look like tbh. Countless sleepless nights filled with study sessions, researching and writing essays along with the cattiness of the student body that was constantly at each other’s throats and kissing professors’ asses to try and get ahead. You had put a target on your back after the first test was handed back - your peers had been pissed because by getting a perfect score on the test the teacher decided to not curve it. The one who seemed the most annoyed by this had been Gojo and he never let you forget it.

Honestly Gojo was pissed that someone was better than him at something - even if it was just one test during his first semester of uni. He was used to being on top and to be bested by someone like you left a sour taste in his mouth.

He couldn’t understand how you did it. Half the stuff on that test hadn’t even been discussed in class - this teacher was notorious for being difficult and not that good of a teacher so the class always relied on there being a curve. When he got his piss poor grade back he had been furious. It wasn’t as bad as some of his other classmates but it wasn’t the best. When he learned it was your fault he had that grade he became a man obsessed.

He had begun asking others about you that day and learned everything he could. Your background, your schedule, your study habits, what dorm you stayed in - he wanted to know all of it in hopes of cracking the code of how you bested him.

When he still couldn’t figure it out he tried approaching you - maybe you had an older student give you answers to all the tests for that class and perhaps you’d be generous enough to share.

“Oh well something the professor said during the lecture got me thinking so I kinda fell down a google rabbit hole to see what I could find. Just got lucky that it was on the test i guess”

And Gojo was pissed. Of course it had just been luck that allowed you to get the better of him. He wanted to laugh at himself for ever thinking differently. When you grades continued to go head to head with his each time assignments and tests came back he had to accept that maybe it wasn’t just luck

The two of you became a source of entertainment to your classmates. They would make bets on which one of you would score higher. Gojo would do nothing but encourage it. Anytime he managed to get the top score he’d make sure to shoot you an irritating smirk and offer some faux condolences with a “maybe next time”. It never failed to get under your skin.

It was like everything he did was to try and annoy you. Hell even his appearance was enough to piss you off. Of course he's the type to wear sunglasses indoors - what a pretentious asshole. You usually didn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he bothered you but your friends would sure hear an earful of whatever it did that got you wound up on any given day.

When the both of you had been paired as lab partners you were convinced you must've pissed off some deity in a past life or something. You couldn't imagine a worse fate than having to sit next to him for at least an hour every week. The lab required cooperation and while initially you had tried to spearhead the whole operation Gojo wasn’t about to take that sitting down.

It all came to a head one day when he was trying to tell you what you were doing wrong for an experiment (you weren’t doing anything wrong tbh he just wanted to see you get worked up)

“Look, if you have such an issue with me I can just ask the professor to assign us different partners. I’m not going to keep going back and forth with you like this.”

“I don’t have an issue with you - who said I had an issue with you?”

“Please, since day one you judged me and have been acting like I’m too stupid to be here - you think I don’t hear what you and your little friends have been saying?”

Gojo wanted to deny it but knew you were right on the money. After that first test came back he had been so wrapped up in his anger that he said some…less than savory things about you to his friends and a few others who had been hanging around them. He knew folks talked but hadn’t expected it to get back to you. He isn’t sure why it felt like his stomach dropped when he found out you knew though.

“Despite all your efforts to look down on me from your little pedestal I’m still doing just as good as you are. You being an asshole isn’t going to change that.”

You left shortly after - uncaring if it meant you’d do poorly on the graded lab but you couldn’t stand to be there around him anymore. He could have this win if it meant you wouldn’t have to be stuck in his presence for a moment longer.

Gojo’s a pretty out of touch guy so you confronting him kinda sparked some introspection on his end (or about as much introspection as he’s capable of). The following days had him acting differently - a bit quieter than normal and he would discourage classmates from making bets or egging you on with the little competition the two of you had going. You almost felt bad - maybe calling him an asshole was taking it too far? It’s not like you hadn’t spoken shit about him to your friends either after all.

You were dreading the next lab. In all your other classes you could avoid him and sit on opposite sides of the lecture hall. The lab would have you forced to interact for at least 60 minutes and you could only imagine how awful that was going to go.

You were surprised when he started the lab off with an apology - in the few years you had somewhat known him you’d never known him to be one to apologize to anyone and you’d never dream he’d be apologizing to you of all people.

He doesn’t go into heavy detail any you don’t ask him to but you learn that he’s also under a lot of pressure from his family. Everyone in his immediate and extended family have gone on to do great things and his family is constantly pressing him to do even better than they did - he got caught up and ended up taking his frustration out on you.

You find yourself apologizing too. You had been judgemental of him from the start too and played into the competition more than you’d like to admit.

The lab had gone on pretty smoothly after that - you two were one of the first groups done since you weren’t bickering between each other. As you were packing up to leave Gojo asked if you’d like to study with him sometime for an upcoming final. You were a bit nervous about it but accepted anyways, excited that the two of you were turning over a new leaf and wondering where exactly this would go

______

in thee nsfw version y'all fucked in the study room like the depraved folks y'all are idk

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tobyrivers · 10 months

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wave after wave / a self-para

triggers: stabbing, knives, blood, death, cancer mention. mentioned: @jacoboh @luciacarrera @mcrtyrdoms @veracalma @applekiraz @sarahoh @marianaxrojasx @eziocore @jieunfms

Toby smiled at his phone, happy that his plan to make things up with Vera seemed to be successful. It seemed like the past few days have been on a downward slope and things were finally, finally starting to look up. Every day without seeing Catherine’s face to say bad news was a good day, in his book, and he was getting better at pushing away the mental image of Theo’s head, as well as Bianca’s foot. It was just one of the many images stuck in his head that he got from being a paramedic, and he made a mental note to start talking about it with Jacob, once they finally got together for their surfing session. Toby never liked talking his problems, especially ones that he feels like he signed up for being a paramedic, but he’d been feeling shaken for a long time now. He just needed to talk about it, instead of bottling it in, and if there was one person he knew he could do that with, without any fear of judgment, it would be Jake.

Swallowing thickly, Toby pushed all of that aside so he could focus on the task at had. It had been a long shift, but on the upside, he didn’t have to load up a body today, and he also had plans to see Jieun after he went back home after walking his Golden Retriever. He took the same route he always did, moving past Low Point to Fog Gate before circling back home. It was already late, and he didn’t want Jieun to be waiting too long, so his pace was brisk, but he paused when he heard a voice.

Help! Someone please help. Help me.

Toby inhaled sharply at the woman’s voice, eyebrows furrowing as he stared into the darkness of the Salem Neck Trail. He used to include this in his route with his dog, up until Rhys’ arm had been found here, and he decided it was better to be safe than to be sorry, and decided to only skirt along the edge of it, close to the sidewalk, on his way back home nowadays.

Help me please!

The urgency of the voice cut through Toby’s hesitance, and he took out his phone to turn on its flashlight as he held onto his dog’s leash tightly. There wasn’t really comfort in knowing he had his dog with him in case there was danger because Marley was one of the friendliest dogs there ever was. He used to joke with his friends that if a burglar came inside Toby’s apartment, Marley would lead the way to where he stashed some of his emergency savings. The thought made him smile, as he ventured deeper into the darkness.

“Hello? Are you hurt?” Toby called out.

I’m here and I’m hurt. I can’t move my legs.

His training kicked in, and he went in the direction of the voice, finding it oddly familiar. “I’ll be right there. Are you bleeding?” He asked, wanting to keep the person talking so he can pinpoint where she was.

No.

Toby paused, a chill running down his back as he realized the voice was a lot closer than he had anticipated.

But you will be.

“Wha--” He started to say, just as his Marley started barking loudly, just as he felt a vibration in his hand notifying him he just got a text message, just as he heard a laugh right as he felt something pierce his stomach. All these things happening in the span of a few seconds and Toby’s hand shakily lifted his phone to point his phone’s flashlight down to see who it was.

“You--” Toby said, gasping loudly when he felt the sharp object leaving his stomach. No, no, no, he thought, hands releasing what they were holding to hold onto his stomach. He belatedly saw that it had been a knife that was stuck in him, and he couldn’t help but feel panicked because he could handle being stabbed. He knew that. He’d seen people survive graver injuries, but the knife wasn’t supposed to be taken out. He was taking short breaths as he pressed his hands against his stomach to stop the flow of the blood, just so she could stab his stomach again, clean through his hands.

The cry of agony he let out had him falling down to his knees, and with whatever strength he had left, he grabbed the toy he always kept on him during their walks and threw it as far as he could, not wanting her to hurt his dog too. Toby hadn’t realized just how deep into the trail he had gotten until he turned back towards her, and he wanted to fight back, wanted her to stop, to demand answers as to why she was doing this, but he found himself being stabbed again.

And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

The adrenaline was gone, his strength was depleted and the pain was like nothing he’d ever felt before, until Toby found himself flat on the ground, choking on his own blood. His thoughts strayed to how this would be the part he and his colleagues would try to distract the patient from the pain as they loaded them up into the back of the ambulance. He always hated that part. When death was all but confirmed, and there was nothing to be done. He knew it now. He could feel it, just as easily as he could feel the dirt under his hands, as easily as he could hear the laughter.

His dropped phone’s flashlight was still turned on and it cast her face in shadow, and Toby had to turn his head to the side, not wanting this to be the last thing he’d see. He closed his eyes after he felt tears pooling in them because he didn’t think this was fair.

This isn’t how it was supposed to end.

His father. The man he looked up to his entire life. The man who had to watch the love of his life go through something as horrible as cancer and lost her to it too. The man who had to see one of his children turn into a monster, despite trying his best to step into the role of being a single parent while dealing with his own grief. Toby always wanted to tell him he was a great father, that he appreciated his effort, especially because his father never said it out loud but Toby just knew he felt like a failure because of how Tucker ended up being, how he felt responsible for it. His heart ached for his father, knowing the man would have to bury another son.

Jacob. His best friend for as long as he can remember. Someone who was practically his brother. He could remember being younger, playing with him, studying with him, feeling completely at ease around him while simultaneously sticking out whenever he was at the Oh residence. How Jake’s other friends were just as wealthy as he was, and it was never a sore point, just a clear indicator of how they were so different, yet so similar at the same time. They had the same values, the same heart, the same drive, the same want for the other to succeed. Toby never felt more understood, more himself than when he was with Jake and in turn, the loyalty between them never faltered. They always were in each other’s corners, no matter what. How he was the first person outside of his family he had called to let him know that his mother was no longer struggling, no longer in pain. He could remember putting his strength down and just crying in Jake’s arms saying I’m not ready. I’m not ready. How he’d give absolutely anything for them to be out at sea again, surfing together. Or on the shore passing a football around. Jake was home, was family, his safe space. He always will be.

Lucia. His biggest what if. He knew he didn’t have the heart to stop her from leaving all those years ago, not when he knew she was going after her dream and he wanted that from her. He wanted, more than anything, to see her succeed. For her to have all the good things this life could offer, because she, of all people, deserved that. He always wondered what would’ve happened, if he actually left Nightrest for her. He told himself this town will always be home, his father would always be here and he couldn’t just abandon him, and Toby felt like he didn’t need to be anywhere else, and ultimately, that was what made him lose her. They both wouldn’t dream of forcing the other to do anything they didn’t want to do, but those two words will always stay with him. What if. There was a whole other future that had been lined up for him had he taken the step out of this town. A parallel universe where maybe he’d still be the one making her happy.

Gabriel. They just started being friends again and it wasn’t fair. Toby could remember being younger and being around Gabe, their hobbies vastly different, their personalities different as well, but they still worked. They were still incredibly good friends. Every time Toby looked back on his childhood, it was thought of with nothing but fondness and Gabe had a lot to do with it. They drifted apart. Years and years of trying to get back to the happy-go-lucky children they had been, but it was a struggle. Real life problems came and went and the rift just got bigger and bigger. Until this year. Until they tried again. Toby missed them terribly when they didn’t talk, and it was still something they had to figure out together, but he had been looking forward to it, to seeing the person they were now, to know all about what he had missed, and now, he’d never get the chance to.

Verity. Complete opposites, but ones that made sense. He’d known her for his whole life too, and yet, it took a long time for her to take a liking to him, to give him the chance to see underneath that rough exterior of hers to showcase what he’d always known. The woman with a heart bigger than anybody else’s, who’d fight to the death for her loved ones, whose loyalty knew no bounds. You were lucky if she showed you that part of her, because only a rare few got to see it or feel it for themselves. That’s how he always thought of himself whenever he looked back on his time with Vera. Lucky. Even when they fought. They ended their relationship on good terms, and he was grateful more than ever that he decided to ask for that favor from Efe today, because it always felt wrong when they weren’t okay.

Apple. Tinkerbell. Someone who was already suffering because of losing her best friend. He tried putting himself in her shoes one night when he was alone, thinking of what it would feel like for him to lose Jake in such a horrible way, and he ended up crying. How would it feel to lose someone who’s so deeply ingrained in your soul? Especially someone like Apple, whose soul was fortified by the love she gave to people. Her soul wasn’t dainty, but it was strong. She was resilient, and he liked to make fun of her for her size, because it always amused him how someone so small to him, could have a spirit bigger than herself, bigger than him even. His sweet, beautiful, kind Tinkerbell who didn’t need to suffer through more to build her strength when she was already one of the strongest people he knew.

Sarah. He liked her, that much was obvious. He’d never had a door slam in his face after asking someone out before, but after the initial shock of it all, he came to think of it as something that the two could eventually laugh about in the future. Toby wanted her to be happy, because simply put, that was what she deserved. Sarah was like sunshine, and he didn’t fault himself for wanting to be around her, for trying to be something more than just friends, for liking her for the person that she was because she is loveable. Always had been. The light in her eyes dimmed after Theo, he could see that, but she had Jake, and Charlotte. She had her friends. Toby knows they’d take care of her.

Mariana. He really didn’t know where things went wrong with them but thoughts of his brother inevitably brought forth thoughts of Mari too. How horrified he had been when he found out what happened. How protective he became of her when he got her out of that situation immediately. How he vowed he’d never talk to his brother again after that, before Tucker started fucking with his brain again, talking about how they would always be blood. He hoped Mari would never feel that kind of pain again, hoped that she’d come to realize she was a lot stronger than she thought she was.

Ezio. Someone who was like his younger brother. Toby always wanted one, always asked his parents for one so he could be to them what Tucker had been to him before their mother died. Someone Toby vowed to always protect from all the bad things in life, because they still had so many good things to see and experience, and he wanted to be there to see the look on their face when they were able to actually see and experience those good things. Despair clutched at him as he strongly wished someone would take care of them, now that he couldn’t.

Jieun. There’s pain there for the potential between them. He could remember how happy he was when she had been released from the hospital, how he celebrated her at Medusa, only to come home with her afterwards. How they never talked about it, until it happened again after the music festival. Maybe there was a reason the two always found their way back to each other. Jieun always made him think of moonlight, the only thing beautiful enough to cast his eyes away from the ocean. How a part of her will always be hidden, but that didn’t stop Toby from wanting to know her. It wasn’t just the intrigue, it wasn’t just the confusion. It was her. People in town were so easy to write her off as just another mean girl, but there was so much more to her than that, and Toby knew it. He could see it in the way her eyes lit up watching the fireworks after the music festival. He could see it in the way he held her close after sleeping together, and how she’d curl against him. He could see it in the haunted look her eyes would take when talking about her now dead friends. He could see it in her passion for creating, and he felt like he was being let in on a massive secret, seeing how happy it made her, how proud she was of it. How proud he was of her too. He could see it in the way she was like with her friends, how she treated them, how she’d do anything for them. He could see it in the way she’d let go of his hand, yet linger. A push and pull that always ended with him getting just the tiniest bit closer. A mean girl. A good person. An influencer. A survivor. His secret. He hadn’t expected them at all, but he didn’t regret anything that happened with them, not one bit. Toby hated that their time was cut short, and he knew he would’ve done anything she asked of him, his last one bringing what happened between them with him to the grave.

His eyes were already closed and he could feel the pain from the knife entering his body over and over again start to ebb away, making way for a fading that was oddly like how he feels every time he was on his surfboard. Nothing but the vast sky above him, and the water below him, the salty sea air in his lungs, a smile on his face and his board between his legs. He liked it when he sometimes let himself fall into the water, and that feeling of the water enclosing around him, muting everything else, reminded him of something he hadn’t felt in so long.

His mother’s arms around him, telling him everything was going to be okay. He could hear her voice now, saying the exact words he had told her on her hospital bed the day after he turned thirteen.

You can rest now.

#goodbye #also no i did not proofread this because it got away from me and is almost at 3k and i refuse to thank you #( self para )

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not-close-to-straight · 1 year

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Steve's panic attack buying medical supplies... Poor baby. You said this fic is more scent marker heavy than most of your ABO stuff, but I REALLY think it was needed. It fits so perfectly in such a HEAVILY emotion-based story.

Steve threatening Neil!! Steve threatening Neil!! I love a good bloodthirsty bitch. Violence just really hits right sometimes. I love all the constant reminders we get that Steve is NOT a small Omega, in body or in spirit. Neil pissing himself as he narrowly avoids losing his fucking head was the sweetest retribution. I feel like it accomplished both goals. We got some violence, but he ALSO was made so small. He ran, terrified, from an Omega. He tried to get the cops on his side, and he FAILED. He's spent his entire life bullying his was into getting what he wants, and he's losing every last bit of his grip on that.

The kids piling in to puppy pile Steve, and it helping. They get to be here for him like he's there for them.

BILLY TELLING MAX HE LOVES HER AND TELLING HER SHE ALWAYS HAS A HOME WITH HIM. MY GOD.

Literally every single thing about Billy at the Cabin. Joyce's family haircuts and including him in that?? HE'S ONE OF HER KIDS NOW.

BILLY AND ELEVEN. El's complete inability to be sneaky or lie to blackmail someone (friends don't lie!!), and him letting her braid his hair anyway. Also love that he's back to threatening the kids and it's totally toothless but he still does it. Steve LETS him now, because he knows Billy's never going to let anything hurt those kids. The whole exchange about El feeling broken and in a sense unlovable, but he makes her feel so okay, even if not how he was meaning. "I'm going to tell Mike tomorrow." I'm sure that'd be great lol

THE REUNION. Everything about it is so so sweet. They've been so far apart and so worried for so long. But not only that. For the first time in their relationship, they're safe. And nothing bad can happen to them. They're not on a time constraint. They just get to be and be together.

Billy saying he'd let Steve ride him into the carpet made me snicker. That whole exchange. "Counterpoint-" lol I get you, Billy. Sometimes injuries take a back seat. (One time I needed help getting upstairs and was icing my knee which I could barely touch, but that Did Not Stop the festivities.) And Steve's insistence otherwise, because he WILL mama bear the fuck out of anyone and everyone. Even his Alpha.

Also the exchange explaining the Papa Bear thing was so cute. "I thought it was something weird."

THE FUCKING HOUSE. The fact that Steve gave him a home, but also is giving him the key as a necklace?? Just all so beautiful. The parallels. The callbacks. Billy crying because he's so loved and safe.

Also!! "I want your next heat"/"it's yours"!!!! The GROWTH!! OUR BOYS ARE FINALLY TRULY TALKING TO EACH OTHER AND READY TO FULLY HAVE EACH OTHER.

This was such a good chapter, and SUCH a good follow up to the last. The tonal shift wasn't abrupt. It just felt so natural.

Chef's kiss

The scent markers really did help this fic along. It adds another layer of depth to an already canon and verse intense dynamic and i think it REALLY compliments that like… feral… part of Billy. I’ve said before that he’s very much a natural Alpha, especially for how I write my Alphas, even giving him fangs felt like a perfectly normal thing to do since he’s always baring his teeth and licking his lips in the show? And adding the scent markers is just another way for him to be hyper aware of everything all the time and to properly figure out situations (which abused kids have to learn to do anyway literally just to survive).

Whoo okay Neil. You are exactly right about how the scene with Steve makes him feel “small”. Like not to sound too After School Special about it but once a bully realizes you Aren’t scared anymore, they lose their power. Neil tried to be physically imposing and got pushed off the porch because Steve’s bigger. He tried to call on his “authority” as an Alpha (it’s dangerous for omegas to be alone) and got wholly disrespected. Threatened to call the cops and was told to also call an ambulance. And then probably the most satisfying for me to write was how Steve very much treated him like a bratty child “I’m going to count to three!” Homeboy got stripped of every inch of his power and had to run away crying. Love that for us.

And I love the way that Steve felt afterwards. Instead of feeling sick or guilty like he would have if he’d actually killed Neil, he can smile and sort of chuckle about it and he KNOWS he could and would absolutely defend his mate from anyone and it actually gives him the hope that things are going to be okay.

Really super loved the kids influence in this chapter. From the boys puppy piling on Steve to max sneaking out of class to call Billy and honestly everything that is Eleven checking in steve and then sitting and braiding Billys hair while talking about Important things. I usually don enjoy writing too many younger characters because children in general make me want to tear my hair out, but it isn’t stranger things WITHOUT the party and the way the older characters interact with the kids highlights so many good themes and character arcs.

Billy just being so “oh no I’m gonna pop some pain pills and you’re gonna ride me into the carpet” like he’s feeling extremely confident in those pain pills lol. But more importantly, it’s just that connection, he’s so so desperate to keep his mate close and specifically in NCTS Omegaverse, sex is never just sex it’s always emotional and a way to bond and really intensely be with each other so yeah, Billy is 61% just a horn dog but he’s also 39% really needing to that close to his mate and I love that.

I was actually racking my brain trying to figure out what Steve could get Billy for his birthday. In an earlier version of this fic, there was a birthday chapter where Steve took Billy away for an overnight trip to one of the Great Lakes so Billy could just be on a beach again even if it wasn’t cali but once I dove into Neil a little more I realized they’d never get away with that sortnof thing without massive repercussions? So I switched it out and eventually ended up here and I knew I wanted Billys birthday to specifically be the moment where they 100% commit to each other, reaffirm their bond, clear up any potential misunderstandings (like the night at the byers) and move forward together, so then I had to figure out what Steve could give Billy that would be so hugely emotional lik the necklace…

And like. Duh. When it finally came to me it seems so so obvious. Of course steve gets them a place together. It’s been established over and over in this fic how Steve’s house isn’t really home, how he can’t relax there and will never feel totally comfortable there so of course he needs someplace new and of course Billy does to.

And the parallels to the Saint Christopher necklace 😭😭 in case Billy ever starts feeling lost he can remember how to get home to Steve?? I love them.

I almost left the last conversation out because at this point it felt redundant. Obvs the boys are together forever. But you’re right, they’ve always sort of…. Said it without actually saying it. Or (rightfully) assumed. And their communication has been next to nothing just because of Neil. So even with it being a little redundant I think it needed to be said. Billy isn’t even asking at this point either and I love that because he knows exactly where he stands with Steve. “Want your next heat, gonna come home to you every night, mark you up silver, make you mine” and Steve’s responses are “yes” and “I’m already yours”

Honestly I’m embarrassingly emotional over it

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wulfofkarstark · 2 years

Text

╰ ┈ [ calahan skogman, 27 , cisgender male , he/his ] in the time of dragons , wulfrik karstark is entering the game of thrones . said to be playful + adaptable , we can only hope that is the case as regrettably they are also well known to be crude + devious. when asked about them , people are always reminded of laughter at a funeral, bloody teeth hidden behind a smile, and an out-stretched hand when least expected . though they are the brother of the ruling lord of karhold , their true loyalties lie with house karstark and rumour has it that if given the choice they would support their family above all else . those of us in the shadows wish them luck and can only hope they will survive what is to come . ── casper , 28 , cst , she/her .

I. 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗦.

full name: wulfrik karstark.

title: lord.

age: twenty - seven.

birthplace: karhold, northern westeros.

gender: cis man.

pronouns: he & him.

orientation: bisexual / biromantic.

religion: the old gods.

loyalty: house karstark.

II. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

+ positive traits: playful. adaptable. insightful. dependable. compassionate.

- negative traits: crude. devious. irreverent. stubborn. petty.

mbti: estp -- extroverted, observant, thinking, and prospecting.

enneagram: the enthusiast.

moral alignment: chaotic good.

character inspiration: han solo (star wars), guy gardner (dc comics), michaelangelo (teenage mutant ninja turtles), johnny storm (marvel comics), charlie kelly (it’s always sunny), ryuji sakamoto (persona 5), harwin strong.

III. 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

faceclaim: calahan skogman.

hair color: dirty blonde.

eye color: blue.

height: 6'4''.

build: lean brick shit house.

distinguishing characteristic(s): insists on something with fur even in the heat, scar at the left corner of his bottom lip and through his left brow from training with his siblings, smaller scattered on torso.

IV. 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘

marital status: nonexistent.

children: n/a.

father: lord torrhen karstark †

mother: dowager lady utp karstark nee utp †

sibling(s): 3 older brothers, 1 younger brother and 1 younger sister .

extended family: n/a.

pet(s): n/a.

V. OVERVIEW

four of six - “and somehow, the gods blessed me with you, my easiest birth. where have you found yourself now?” often said in jest by his mother when she was made aware of just what wulfrik had done. the fourth son to torrhen karstark, wulfrik did not feel or perhaps respect, the weight of tradition that a ruling family ought to. what he did feel was his father’s withering stare, what he can remember of it given he was so young, and his mother’s tired but loving smile. he holds onto the latter more.

wolf of karhold - for better or worse, wulfrik took advantage of the lack of expectation given his position of birth from a very young age. while he did not expect to ever rule, from a boy to a man, gods be damned if his howl was never heard from karhold, to winterfell, to even bear island. karhold was never quiet on account of him and he never spent long inside any four walls, quick to shed any formalities of lord and shift into something else. and if at the end of the day he was bloody with a story or two to share with his siblings, then it was a good day.

cry wolf - something he understands well is that those outside of the north expect brutal and biting natures from those that find comfort in ice. anytime he and his skin tragically find themselves south, he plays into that and tells tall-tales of what can be found in the woods in the north on the darkest days. contrary to this, he is a well-read and insightful man, not unaware of the games at play around him. whether he cares about them is the question.

blood and wine - wulfrik found himself at home where wine and blood easily flow. skirmishes, taverns, and even though their pageantry is lost on him, tournaments. he prefers a contest of wills on a field, not across tables or addled by arbitrary favors and rulings. he is a mostly good-natured and jovial, if a little crass, but can quickly shift when the wind changes, especially when his family is involved. he is the ‘fuck around and find out’ party karstark brother.

brother mine - there are few things in the realm that wulfrik takes seriously. his family is among them. he is quick to be at cayn’s side, quick to correct any insult thrown his family’s way. he already has and would kill again for his family. he takes the responsibility of an older brother to his brother and sister to heart, just as he does the irresponsibility of a younger brother to his older brothers. he would put himself before any arrow and any sword if it meant protecting them. as much as he pesters and makes light of cayn’s position, he loves him wholeheartedly and silently looks up to him. he owes cayn a great deal.

do you want to build a snowman* - anytime the idea of a proposal or marriage was so much as whispered in the walls of karhold, wulfrik would construct a snowman and present it as anyone’s betrothed. it’s a tradition he has held from a very young age and one that his father heartily disapproved of from what he can remember.

VI. 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦

book club - it’s a little known secret that wulfrik enjoys the written word as much as he enjoys sharp steel. this is someone that knows his secret and they indulge on swapping stories.

bad blood - all here for a friendship that turned sour and whenever they’re in a shared space, it’s volatile. wulf can be very petty and this relationship gets the whole of that.

running with the wolves - someone that is as adventurous and perhaps reckless as wulfrik is. they don’t know fear and have made a friendship of chasing after an adrenaline high.

wherever i may roam - as soon as he was of age, wulfrik took to traveling where and when he could. he could have easily found himself in the halls of any family, either as a welcome guest or a nuisance.

begrudging respect - this could be someone that he often engages in duels with, either physical or otherwise, and there’s a respect between them that has been built over the years.

general ideas! - flings, enemies to friends or otherwise, someone that believes in the bullshit he says about the north, childhood friends, sparring pals, drinking buddies, tavern brawl partners.

#thrones.intro #how many times can i use the word wolf challenge #sorry this is late i finally have a day off

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malicedragoness · 2 days

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Finally realized why I’ve been such a depressed mess lately. May 3rd will be two years since my dad passed away.

Mid April his health started declining. And around this particular time is when he was admitted to the hospital. Each day my mom would send text messages on his condition and what the doctors were saying. None of it was good.

Some of his vertebrae were collapsed in his lower spine. Sclerosis in his liver and his blood infection came back with a vengeance. He had mini strokes which threw his infections to his joints, spine, brain, heart, and lungs.

I remember calling my mom after that text message and asked her if he was going to die.

She sounded so confidant that he was going to be all right. The doctors were taking care of him and they had treatment plans set up for him. It assuaged me at that time.

And little did I know, that my mom and I were in denial. Because two days later is when they called her and said that he’s not responding. A whole cup of blood shifted to one side of his brain.

When rushed to the hospital and when I saw my dad, I knew he couldn’t be saved. But my mom and uncles refused to accept that answer. It took the hospital getting a brain surgeon on the phone to explain that he could do the risky surgery. But even if he survived he would be in a vegetative state. That’s something my dad wouldn’t want, so we elected to let him go.

I was also three months pregnant at that time and going through health issues with that pregnancy. And having to deal with my dad passing made me emotional, bitter, depressed, and angry at the world. I felt cheated that he wouldn’t get to see his second grandson. (We didn’t even know I was having a boy at that time.)

And my daughter Sigourney was only four at that time. My dad was her favorite person. And trying to explain to an innocent child that has no concept of death was heartbreaking and difficult. All we could tell her was “Paw is at the doctor. He isn’t feeling well and won’t be able to come home anymore, sweetie.”

That whole year was so traumatizing for her. I wanted to take that pain away from her so bad. Everytime she would hear the doorbell, she would get excited thinking it was him. And then burst into tears when it wasn’t him.

Eventually, she understood he was gone and wouldn’t be coming back. But then anytime my mom or myself went to the doctor she would get scared and plead with us to not go. She would cry and say “I don’t want you to leave me! You won’t come back!” It took a long time for her to realize that we wouldn’t disappear if we went to the doctor. Every now and then she gets teary eyed thinking about my dad. But she’s doing better now.

Last year I didn’t cry when his one year anniversary of his death came around. I just wanted it to be a normal day like any other and just think about happy memories of him. I avoided all phone calls and texts of people checking up on me. I didn’t want to repeat the same conversation over and over again and hear how sorry everyone was about his passing.

I went through that when he died and it drove me crazy. I remember wanting to vomit when I got another phone call right after another one. That ball of dread of having to repeat what was going on, how long he was in the hospital, how he died, and everything made me nauseous and upset. I texted my husband I was turning my phone off so I could get away from everyone’s fucking “I’m sorrys”.

And I didn’t want to go through that on his one year anniversary. But now this year, I’ve been a crying, depressive mess.

My brother finally brought his urn over to my house yesterday, and it’s like it hit me all over again.

I may take some time away, most likely just this week, to get my bearings together. I miss my dad. I wish he could’ve seen my son. I wish he could see my kids grow up. He was so excited to be a grandfather and he only got to do it for four years. It’s not fair. Sigourney and Donatello are gonna grow up and not get to have his love the whole time. Donnie doesn’t even know who he is and will never know what his voice sounds like.

I miss him so much.

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casspurrjoybell-29 · 5 months

Text

Forgotten Ties - Chapter 12- Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

There was a flash of bright light and Skye looked away, and then there was rumble as the ground shook followed by gunfire.

Skye pressed his hands over his ears and watched in awe as the trees he'd leapt through the branches of just a few weeks ago began to brutally uproot themselves and lunge towards the soldiers.

Nim was grabbing kids and pulling them away.

"Run," Skye saw one of the soldiers turn towards them, hesitate with her gun raised and then turn her back to them as she focussed on the threat in front of her.

They ran.

It wasn't very far back to the house.

Skye wished it were further.

Joanne opened the door and ushered them in but Skye could still hear screaming and gunfire from down the street.

"What happened?" Peter asked.

Marigold shook her head.

"The Fae. We can't stay here. They'll find us again. We have to leave."

"We'll get you out in the van," Joanne said.

"Where should we take you?"

"I'll lead the way on foot," Nim said. "I'd take up too much room in the van anyway."

"Everyone get your things into your school bags," Marigold called out. "We're leaving in five minutes whether you're ready or not."

"No," Miya wailed, tears in her eyes. "I want to stay here."

"Miya," Marigold said in a voice that was gentle but firm. "If we stay here, they'll come and take us again. We have to leave."

Miya was still crying but she went to pack her things.

Skye didn't go to school, so he'd already packed his things into his schoolbag.

He went and got it from the bedroom and then watched as Marigold and Peter gathered some more food and pots and pans from the kitchen and shoved them into garbage bags.

Skye found some fruit snacks in the larder and shoved them into his bag.

The rest of what was in there was also mostly just food he'd been hoarding, some of it since before they'd even seen that creepy interview on TV.

It wasn't long before everyone moved outside and they started trying to figure out how to fit everyone and everything onto the bus.

"I'll go on foot with Nim," Skye offered when they started talking about having to leave some of their stuff behind because there wasn't enough room.

"Can you keep up?" Joanne asked. "Besides surviving jumping off of roofs, I honestly don't really know what you can do. I never really did get to know you, Skye."

"Yeah, I'm good at lots of things. Running, jumping, reading..."

"Really? Because I got a phone call from the school and they didn't seem to think you were very good at reading."

Skye gave her a shake of his head.

"I can't believe you would focus on that at a time like this. We have to leave before we get murdered."

Joanne sighed.

"You're not wrong."

"Please don't eat my fruit snacks."

"What?" Joanne asked but Skye was already running off to join Nim.

Nim was taking his clothes off while simultaneously trying to cover as much of his nakedness as he could because he was handing those clothes over to Marigold.

It was very interesting to watch, for multiple reasons.

"You're coming with me, are you?" Nim asked.

Skye nodded.

"Okay," Nim said, covering his cock with his hand as he got down on the ground. "Be careful," he added before starting to shift.

As the van started up with everyone loaded on board, Skye could still hear the fight going on down the street.

Thankfully when Nim started running, it was in the direction away from the gunfire, though from the circuitous route he took it seemed like he'd just been intentionally avoiding it.

Nim was a big, powerful beast, his muscles moving with speed and precision.

Skye wasn't that.

He wasn't strong at all.

When you didn't weigh much, it was just easy to run fast and not get tired.

For a while, anyway.

Eventually he started to struggle but he had a plan for that.

He kept his weight light and leapt onto Nim's back, causing him to stumble for a moment.

Skye held on with his hands and knees and kept his chest close to Nim's back and the burden hardly seemed to slow Nim down at all.

Nim had made the whole thing look effortless but by the time they finished their journey at the end of a one way street that led up into the woods, he was panting heavily.

Skye climbed off his back and gave his furry head a pat.

As soon as Marigold brought Nim his clothes back, he ducked behind a tree and shifted back.

He had his pants on by the time he came back out.

Skye collected his bag from the bus.

His fruit snacks were still in it.

He gave Joanne a nod of approval, though she just looked confused.

There were a lot of hugs and crying and saying goodbye to Joanne but Skye didn't really have any feelings about all that, so he spun in a small circle while he waited instead.

When it was time to go, Nim led the way.

As they started walking, Skye ate his fruit snacks.

They got stuck in his teeth but today had been a hard day in many ways.

Skye tried to console Miya by feeding her a fruit snack but that only seemed to upset her more.

Marigold was trying to calm the kids down and convince them this would be fun but that wasn't working either.

They weren't moving very quickly and before long Nim was carrying three of the kids.

Skye tried to carry Miya for a while but she bit his shoulder twice and he didn't get very far before he got tired and had to put her down.

He wasn't very strong.

For a while, he was given the job of designated flashlight holder but everyone got annoyed with him because he kept forgetting that making sure that everyone could see was the whole point.

He wasn't trying to be unhelpful, in fact, he was trying very hard to make himself be the opposite but the whole thing was like a puzzle his brain had to be actively focussed on or he'd just aim the flashlight where he needed it or entertain himself by waving it around in circles.

He handed the job off to Jay and he did much better at it.

Skye offered the fruit snacks to the rest of the children, even though he wanted them all for himself and some of them did take one.

When Skye offered one to Nim, he opened his mouth and let Skye put the fruit snack in because his arms were busy with carrying children.

"How are you holding up?" Nim asked.

"My feet hurt," Skye said.

Nim nodded.

"There's a bit of that going around, I've heard."

"Is it much further?"

"I won't lie, it is. I wanted to make sure nobody would stumble across us by accident at very least. And now, after what happened, I'm hoping they'll be too busy to put much effort into looking for us."

"The Fae saved us, huh?" Skye asked.

"Yeah. I've never heard of anything like that happening before. Of them directly weaponizing their creations like that."

"They protected us," Marigold said as she caught up to them.

"If they're willing to fight for us, what will that mean for all of this?"

"Bet it escalates things," Nim said as he readjusted his grip on one of the children.

She had fallen asleep against his shoulder and being jostled around didn't wake her.

"That could be bad, I guess but when we're outnumbered and outgunned, I'll take it."

"I don't know what to think," Marigold said. "On the one hand, I agree but on the other, these things can go wrong. The Fae made vampires, after all and they prefer the taste of hybrid blood."

"You're not wrong but for now I'm just happy we're here instead of sitting in that park or on a bus getting shipped off to who knows where. There's that saying about the enemy you know being better, but sometimes the enemy you know is so fucked that you'd rather take your chances with anything else."

"It's all just things to think about, anyway," Marigold said.

"For better or for worse, we don't have the power to change any of it. If the Fae decide to fight back, that's their own choice."

"Unless we die," Jay cut in. "If I die, I'll let the Fae turn me into a tree and then I'll protect you all. I saw them trying to shoot those trees. Fucking idiots."

"Jay, don't swear," Marigold scolded.

"Why?" Jay asked. "Who cares anymore?"

"I care," Marigold said. "Why?"

"Because I'm not ready for you to stop being a kid just yet."

"Well, I'm still a kid but I'm not a little kid," Jay said. "There are too many kids here for all of us to be little kids."

"Okay but set a good example by not swearing."

Jay sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I don't think it matters anymore but fine. If it'll make you happy."

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shefeelsunwell · 10 months

Text

i think i must have c-ptsd or silent borderline. the former is more likely. the smallest hurt turn into these giant episodes of unconsolable crying and panic attacks because something has triggered me to become and feel worthless again.

i got new antidepressants and they were working so well and i was so happy. i had also taken my ADHD medication so i felt so much like how other people out there probably feel. i worked for my mother for ten hours on saturday and i felt really good in the morning and i tried so hard and did my best to love her and comfort her and we cleaned her kitchen so she could have better access to her food and we made a shopping lost and i cleaned her up intimately and then post shift i stayed so i could get her groceries because she had nothing to eat really and everything she'd had in her fridge was out of date which is probably why she's had problems with her stomach and i put probiotics in her online pharmacy cart so they could order it since she had to go on antibiotics for sepsis and meningitis last hospital visit and i did her laundry and cleaned her kitchen and bedroom i ran around sweaty like a headless chicken and no one noticed or cared or thanked me. i hate that i'm still stuck wanting my mother i cannot seem to move on.

my father was going to take me to his countryhouse but he cancelled and said he had a stomach but but i know he lied about that he didn't want me to go with him and my first instinct was of course to run over there with soup and juice and hydration products despite last year i was home sick with covid and he failed twice to help me even though i asked him but i didn't. he was fine and mowing the lawn the next morning so i know he lied. on saturday i wrote him a long note of thanks because he had the previous week gone with me to the pharmacy to get my new antidepressants and he had his wallet out in preparation to pay. after that we got a little tipsy together and we had dinner and he fell asleep in front of the tv in his armchair and i on the couch and it was one of the only moments i've ever had where i felt connected to him - i wrote that i didn't need the money (trying to assure him because he always otherwise denies me monetary help or anything similar, he always tells me he is too poor to get me a birthday gift even though he is rich and takes his other daugthers on vacations) and i only wanted the support and love and care of him and my new antidepressants were working nicely. i wrote that i loved him and i thanked him again and sent it. the message i got back was quick and an invitation to dinner on sunday with my sisters and without a "i love you" back. i didn't say anything about it and said yes to the dinner and asked him if he would be home by then and where i was supposed to go and he didn't reply. he keeps giving me mixed messages and before this they were almost always negative and i'm left questioning my value and worth.

i'm stuck trying to love my parents and trying to get them to love me back. it doesn't seem like i can give up. i can't move on because everything else that i've tried is meaningless to me everything small especially from my family triggers me into having episodes of wanting to die. i want to be loved i deserve to be loved by my mom and dad. i want a connection that i suspect they are incapable of giving me but i can't move on because nothing else matters to me. sex, romantic relationships, any accomplishment - everything else leaves me empty and void and carries no meaning to me.

i know i have to leave them both behind if i'm going to survive. but i don't know how. i give up so easily because i've never won any battles no matter how hard i've tried or how i do it and i am losing this war

0 notes

capseycartwright · 2 years

Note

“you've made it your mission to always kiss me good morning, good night, goodbye and hello, and whenever you miss to do just that, even though i tell you you're being ridiculous, you feel bad about it, and always have to make up for it”

“Eddie!”

Eddie knew what was coming, before Buck even said it. He’d been scheduled on to start earlier than Buck that morning, covering off a couple of hours toward the end of Callaghan’s shift – Eddie had owed him, when Callaghan had covered half of Eddie’s shift a few weeks back so he could go to Christopher’s parent-teacher meeting. Eddie hadn’t bothered to wake Buck up, before he left – it was four in the morning, for crying out loud, he wasn’t going to wake Buck up at that hour, not when he knew how unlikely it was for Buck to go back to sleep once he’d been woken up.

So, instead, Eddie had crept out of their shared bedroom, getting dressed in the living room, so as not to take any chances of waking Buck up, even forgoing his usual pre-work hit of caffeine, their coffee machine too loud to get going in the middle of the night. He’d gotten one from the McDonalds on his drive to work, but the bitter coffee was nowhere near as good as the fancy beans that Buck always insisted they buy.

Still, Eddie had survived worse than crappy coffee.

“Morning, Buck,” he greeted, watching as his husband strode across the loft, looking altogether very purposeful – and beautiful, frankly. Eddie felt like it was a bit unfair, actually, how good Buck always looked. No one should be able to rock the cheap polyester of their uniform trousers the way his husband did (and listen – they were married, Eddie knew his secrets, and he knew that more than a few of his work pants had been tailored to fit correctly but keeping your partner’s secrets was part of the marriage contract.)

“Did you forget something this morning?” Buck accused, looking so serious that Eddie couldn’t stifle his laughter. “I’m serious, Eddie!”

Eddie schooled his expression into a serious one, trying to hold it together as he looked at Buck. “Buck, baby,” he began. “It was four am.”

Buck slumped into the chair next to him. “And?”

“I wasn’t about to wake you up in the middle of the night to kiss you goodbye,” he pointed out, glad the loft was empty, for now, because Chimney would never, ever let them live this conversation down – and Chim already knew too much about them. Eddie wasn’t keen to add fuel to the fire.

Buck looked absolutely incredulous. “Eddie,” he said, almost scolding, in his tone. “We agreed – you have to!”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You agreed that,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he remembered the last time he’d been scheduled on later than Buck. It had been a little closer to six am, at least, but Buck had smothered his face in grinning, sloppy kisses before he’d left for work, sending Eddie right back to sleep with a smile on his face.

“We agreed it.”

“No, you made a unilateral decision, Buck,” Eddie corrected – because it was the truth. This was an ongoing argument for them (and listen – if this was the worst kind of argument they’d be having, Eddie could live with it) and even now, three years, two wedding rings and a mortgage later, Buck insisted on kissing Eddie hello, goodbye, good morning, goodnight, and everything else in between.

(“I’ve waited so long to kiss you,” Buck admitted, cupping Eddie’s face in his hands as he pressed another long, lingering kiss to Eddie’s mouth, definitely late for his lunch with Maddie now. “I don’t want to miss a single opportunity to kiss you, Eddie Diaz.”

And maybe a better man would have argued, but Eddie wasn’t a better man – and so for years, he’d let himself be kissed at every opportunity.)

It was cute. Really, it was cute. It was ridiculous, absolutely, but it was also cute. At times, both of them felt as though they’d wasted years dancing around their feelings for each other, when they could have been together, and happy, but there was no point in living in the past – not when Eddie’s future was bright, and golden, and filled with Evan Buckley-Diaz.

“Buck,” Eddie tried to sound stern. “I’m not waking you up in the middle of the night to kiss you goodbye.”

Buck – despite being a thirty-two-year-old, grown-ass man – honest to goodness pouted. “But I woke up alone and didn’t get a good morning kiss,” he grumbled. “Or a goodbye one.”

Eddie sighed, the sound very opposite to the fondness that was blooming in his chest as he nudged Buck’s knees apart, shuffling his chair closer. “I’m sorry,” he said, sincere, tugging on Buck’s chin. “Let me make it up to you.”

The pout was still fixed in place, but it was teetering on the edge of becoming a smile as Buck gave an exaggerated shrug.

Pressing his lips softly to Bucks, Eddie spoke softly. “Goodnight,” he said, kissing Buck again. “Good morning,” he continued, and kissed Buck a third time, for good measure.

“What was the third one for?” Buck asked, his smile wide, and genuine.

Eddie beamed. “Just because I love you.”

send me an intimacy in a relationship prompt

#911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911fic #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #merrydiaz #prompt fill

490 notes · View notes

dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Speak Your Mind

Pairing: GeorgeNotFound / George x f!reader

Summary: Usually, you left George feeling tongue-tied, but apparently not today.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted a cute, clumsy george story! another anon wanted something similar, so i hope you both and all enjoy <3 this was inspired by this quote by lemony snicket :)

George slipped into his chair with a slight groan, nudging his mouse with his elbow as he took a sip of water. He watched as his screen came to life, glancing over at the time. It was still kind of early, and he had a few hours to himself before his scheduled stream.

I could probably just play by myself for a while, he thought to himself, setting his glass down to his left as he opened up Minecraft. He reached across his desk, grabbing his headphones and settling them over his head. It’s been a while since I’ve played in a hardcore survival world.

But then his gaze flickered down to a particular server, and he found his cursor automatically clicking on it, almost like clockwork. In an instant, his avatar was standing on the Prime Path, the blocky world rendering into view around him. Shifting his mouse a few times, George smiled and opened up his inventory.

He spent a few moments sorting everything out, quietly humming to himself. A few seconds later, something popped up on the bottom left of his screen, his gaze darting over to catch it.

[y/n]: hi george!

[y/n]: how are you doing?

George’s heart almost immediately stuttered in his chest, and he spent a moment or two simply staring at the two lines of text.

He couldn’t believe just how much power you had over him.

The two of you had been friends for a long time now—nearly as long as he had been friends with Dream, even. The two of you had met almost entirely by accident, having simply been jokingly trapped together on a random server by one of the admins for a few hours. Under any other circumstances, George probably would have felt awkward to hell and back, but the two of you had just instantly hit it off together.

You were kind and cheerful, while he was practical and goofy. He loved your optimistic innocence, and you lived for his sarcastic quips. While the two of you had never met in person, both of you had most definitely seen each other’s faces before, and George would never forget the first thing he said when he saw your face.

“Woah. You’re really pretty.”

He had blurted it without warning, surprising even himself at his own words. Your face had flushed while you immediately turned off your face cam, letting out a quiet whine. “George, you can’t just say that!”

He remembered sputtering in his chair, then sending an earnest smile at his monitor. “But it’s true!”

“George!”

The image of your cheeks plastered with an embarrassed, sheepish grin and your wide, shining eyes would forever be ingrained in his mind.

Years later, that picture hadn’t changed a bit, still as clear as ever in his head, but the feelings he held for you had transformed. It didn’t happen quickly, nor did he ever want to admit it, but he was incredibly aware of it—almost too aware of it.

You made his cheeks hurt from how much he smiled around him. You filled his stomach with butterflies just with a single giggle. You made his ears turn bright red whenever you made a sly joke.

The three little words sat at the back of his head at nearly every hour of the day, and he just knew that one of these days, he was going to tell you what they were.

Hopefully.

With a smile on his face and a million thoughts swirling around his head, all of them beginning and ending with you, he closed his inventory and began to type back a response.

GeorgeNotFound: i’m doing good haha

[y/n]: i’m happy to hear that! <3

His breath caught in his throat. A heart—you had sent back a heart. He could feel his own heart seize in his chest at the sight of two simple symbols on his monitor screen.

Oh god, he was so screwed.

He walked forward a bit, his head still spinning with thoughts of you and that stupid heart as he contemplated what he should do next. An idea popped up just then, a small wave of anxiety creating over his head. With shaky hands, he began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: wanna join vc 2?

A moment ticked by, and George chewed on the side of his cheek. Then, your username appeared in the corner of his screen.

[y/n]: okay! i’ll be there in a sec :)

A smiley face. His own lips curled upwards to match the smile emoticon as he entered the voice channel, patiently waiting. A few moments later, something caught his attention from the corner of his monitor. Turning, he flinched as your avatar jumped down and landed in front of him, briefly turning red from the fall damage. A split second later, he heard a familiar ping.

“Boo!” you chirped, your voice echoing in his ear as bright as day. He felt warmth blossom in his chest just at the sound of a single syllable spoken in your voice.

“What a grand entrance,” he said teasingly, unable to hide the fact that he was grinning while he spoke.

“You know me,” you said, giggling, “I always have to make a big show of things.”

“I sure do,” he said, secretly thinking to himself.

But I wish I knew you better.

“Woah,” you suddenly breathed, something like awe seeping in your voice as your character stepped forward. “I feel like we haven’t talked in, like... forever.”

He blinked, shifting his mouse slightly toward you. “We talked yesterday.”

“No,” you said quickly, your pitch raising, “I mean like, talk talked. You know, over call or something?” Your voice grew quiet. “I missed hearing your voice.”

George wanted to throw a pillow across his room. Cute. “Well, I’m here now,” he said softly, chuckling, “so you get to hear it all you want.”

He heard you cough, but it was slightly muffled. He wondered what you looked like right now, and he half-wished that you two had your face-cams on. “Now that you’re on the sever,” you prompted a second later, suddenly sounding normal again. “what do you wanna do?”

He thought for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. “Well, I kind of wanted to work a bit more on my house.”

“Oh, you mean your new house? The one you were building during the, uh—” You paused, searching for the right words. “—big battle?”

He could imagine you making fake air quotes with your fingers, and he laughed, thinking of your scrunched up face. “Pfft, yeah. That’s the one.”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” you admitted, some rustling coming through his headphones. “Do... do you mind showing me it?”

He smiled sheepishly. “No, not at all. But I’m not a very good builder, I hope you know.”

You let out a brief shout, and he jumped in his chair. “Nope! Illegal!”

His eyebrows knit together. “‘Illegal’?” he parroted.

“Illegal,” you said in an affirmative tone. “It’s illegal to be mean to GeorgeNotFound. Even by GeorgeNotFound himself. Sorry I don’t make the rules.” Before he could even think of a response, your character began jumping up and down on his screen. “Now, show me the goods! I’m sure it looks great.”

He was pretty sure he was just a puddle in his chair, now. You were just far too much for his poor heart. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this before he lost his mind.

Shaking his head free of thoughts of you, he pressed the W key and watched as he moved forward down the Prime Path and over a hill. “Here, follow me. It’s a bit far from the rest of the server’s homes, but I kind of like it.”

You hummed, thoughtful and soft as the two of you jumped your way over a few hills. “I get you. I mean, we all need our space. I think having your home being more far away is just cozy. Quaint. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy. It’s a win-win situation!”

He snorted at your words. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy was a positive he would never pass up. “I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks that.”

It was then that a splash of red among a horizon full of browns and greens came into view. You let out a soft gasp as his hobbit-hole house came into view. “Sooo,” he began, clicking his mouse, “ta-da! Here it is! I know it’s not much, but it’s pretty okay, I think?”

A cry of awe flew from your lips. “Are you kidding me? Your house is so pretty!” You ran forward, your eyes wide as you gazed at the hobbit-style home. “It’s so round and cozy and—oh, the mushrooms!” Your avatar jumped up and down, punching at the air towards his house. “You even added a little moat with a bridge!”

A certain sincerity flooded your voice as you added, “George, don’t lie to me and tell me you suck at building. I love your house.”

He felt his heart melt at your eager tone. Just how endearing could one person be?

“Can we go inside, can we go inside?” you asked, your voice growing bolder as you turned to look at him expectantly.

A bashful smile shot across his face, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “I—ah, I haven’t actually built the inside yet,” he admitted shyly.

You let out a soft squeal, your avatar running around the screen with a hop. “If you want, we can build it together!” you offered. “I know you’re not super confident in your building skills, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

His heart melted. You were so kind. Too kind, really. How could he say no?

“I would love that,” he said. He moved inside the house, revealing the hollowed out, blank space that would serve as the interior of his house. “So, as you can see, it’s still a work in progress.” He glanced back at you. “Where should we start?

There was a slight pause. “Hmmm.” He could imagine the way you scrunched your nose as you thought, your fingers tapping against the nearest flat surface as you did so. “We could make most of the inside out of birch planks,” you began, “and have some dark oak details. You know, so there’s some really neat contrast between the light and dark parts of your house.”

He could hear you growing giddier and giddier with each passing second. “And we can also add some red and white carpet to match the mushroom aesthetic! Oh, that would look so good! “Your character turned to look at him, a block of birch wood already in hand. “What do you think?”

His heart beat a little faster. I like you, he thought, clear as a bell. I really, really like you, that’s what I think.

“You what?”

He froze.

Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud?

Your voice filled his ears, quiet and shaky. “Um. Yeah.”

A second passed in awkward silence. Then another.

If a Minecraft skin could blush, George’s face would be a tomato.

“I, um,” he stammered, his eyes darting every which way in search of an excuse to leave the call. Just then, his gaze caught on the glass of water he had set to his left. He barely gave himself even a second to think about what to say before he started rambling, speaking in a single, blurted breath.

“I just um spilled water all over myself and wow it’s about to get all over my set-up and that would be really bad so I’m just uh gonna go now okay great bye—”

Before he could embarrass himself anymore, he found himself pressing the ‘end call’ button and closing the window, hanging his head in his hands as he let out a long groan of despair.

Why did he do that? How did he do that?

Groaning again, he slammed his head into his desk, turning to press his cheek into the wood as he stared at his keyboard.

He was an idiot—a big, fat idiot.

In the corner of his eye, he watched as his phone screen lit up. It‘s probably a message from [Y/N], his brain helpfully supplied. She’s probably confused as hell.

“Not helping,” he muttered to himself, sitting up once more.

Well, there was really only one thing he could do now, and that was to get help. Fortunately for him, he knew two people he could definitely ask for advice. Unfortunately, he had a feeling he knew how this conversation was going to go.

Sighing, he opened up Discord again on his monitor.

He was sure things could only go downhill from here.

“You what?!”

George grimaced. He was right. This was a terrible idea. “You don’t have to rub it in my face,” he grumbled.

“I’m—” Wheeze. “I’m not rubbing it in,” Dream explained between gasps for air, “it’s... it’s just that it’s funny.”

George pursed his lips. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like you’re rubbing it in.”

Sapnap’s voice cut through Dream’s laughter. “Okay, okay, Dream, you’re not helping. Gogy here is having, as Tommy would put it, ‘women problems’, and he needs some help.”

All of a sudden, Dream’s laughter stopped. “If I’m being totally honest,” he said, “I’m not really seeing the problem here.”

There was a beat of silence. “How are you not seeing the problem?” Sapnap said. You could hear the frown in his voice. “George just prematurely confessed his feelings to [Y/N].”

“Yeah, and?”

Another beat of silence.

“What the heck do you mean, ‘and’? That’s the problem!”

George sighed, sinking down in his desk chair. “Dream,” he muttered into his headset, rubbing at his temples, “just spit it out.”

“Look,” he began, “I’m just saying that here’s no advice we could possibly give you, because there’s only one solution.”

“Which is?” Sapnap prompted.

“You just have to tell her outright how you feel.”

George’s jaw dropped and he scrambled to sit up. “No way I’m doing that. Nuh-uh, no thanks.”

Sapnap made a noise of approval. “No, wait—Dream does have a point.”

George felt a stone of uneasiness drop into his stomach. “You’re just saying that because you want to see me make a fool of myself.”

“No, no, nonono, I’m telling the truth!” Dream cried. “Seriously, what other options do you really have? Pretend that you never said anything and just act like nothing happened to confuse her and hope that she forgets?”

“Pretty sure that’s called gaslighting,” Sapnap mumbled.

George glared at his monitor, knowing full well no one could see him. “Not helping.”

“Ignore her for the rest of eternity?” Dream continued. “You’ve already declined six of her calls!” There was a pause, then he carried on. “George, seriously. I want the best for you, and I’m not kidding when I say this is the only viable option, really.”

He stared down at his lap, his hands shaking where they lay. “What if,” he began, “she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, tough luck then, Gogy,” Sapnap said bluntly, “You’re just gonna have to suck it up and move on like the rest of us.”

George pressed his lips into a thin line. While it wasn’t exactly the nicest way to put it, he supposed Sapnap was right. “What if...” He swallowed. “What if I’m not ready?”

A soft sigh came from the other end. “George,” Dream said, his voice sincere, “believe it or not, but no one’s ever ready, really. But if we all waited until we were ready, then we’d be waiting for the rest of our lives.”

George fell quiet. A strange sense of comfort fell over him as he let Dream’s words soak in. Mustering up a deep breath, he smiled.

“Okay. I’ll call her back tonight, alright?”

Sapnap let out a hoot, the sound of clapping filling his headphones. “Let’s go! Get ‘em, Gogy!”

“You really need to stop calling me that.”

“Nah. It’s funny.”

Before George could retort, Dream stepped in. “Remember buddy, no matter what happens, we’ll be here for you, okay? Don’t let your fear hold you back. Hell, you know what? Don’t let your—” Dream suddenly cackled, his voice wheezing into his mic as he sputtered, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams, George!”

George let out a groan, barely able to hear himself over the deafening sound of Dream’s wheezing. “Oh my god, I’m hanging up.”

“Good luck, Gog—”

It was at that moment that he clicked the ‘end call’ button, the sweet sound of silence washing over him. Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips.

Maybe calling his friends wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

George stared at his monitor, the dark screen reflecting a mirrored image of himself. His hand opened and closed on his lap, itching to hold onto the mouse.

It had been two days since he’d blurted the words he’d been procrastinating saying for the last god knows how long.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see fluttering shots of you. You, with your mouth agape, staring at your screen with your headphones sliding down your neck. You, frantically texting on your phone about everything that had just slipped out of his mouth. You, with your face inevitably twisting in disgust at the thought of someone like him liking someone like you.

I’m not ready, he thought, his reflection blinking back at him.

That’s exactly why you’re going to do this, his reflection said back as his hand moved to his mouse, hovering over it.

You suck, he thought.

The monitor smiled back at him as he moved his cursor. I know.

His screen burst to life, Discord already open and waiting for him. George moved his cursor to hover over your username, his palm starting to sweat. Clicking, he reached over to his keyboard and began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: hey! did you wanna video call?

The moment he hit enter, he ripped his hands away from the keyboard like it was made of hot coals, wiping his hands on his pants. With bated breath, he waited, staring at the green circle accompanying your profile picture. Suddenly, his screen moved.

[y/n] is typing...

His heart leapt into his throat.

[y/n]: okay!

He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose, his mouse moving to press the hit ‘video call’ button. A few seconds passed with the ringtone echoing through his headphones. A moment later, the ringing stopped and your face filled his screen, the familiar set-up of your room fading in at the corners. His heart swelled at the sight—both with affection and anxiety.

“Um, hi!” you said with a shy smile, your gaze darting away from the screen as you waved at the camera. Despite your bright demeanour and cheery tone, he could practically feel the tension in your shoulders the moment he laid eyes on you.

“H-Hi,” he said back, swallowing as he mustered up a shaky smile. Your gaze flickered to his for a brief second, and in that moment, it almost felt like you two were actually looking at each other in real life. Then you looked away again and something in his chest cracked.

“How are you doing?” he asked slowly, trying to prompt a conversation. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever.”

Your lips quirked as you tilted your head at him. “We talked, um, two days ago.”

He ignored the embarrassment flaring up on his cheeks. “I mean like, see-each-other-talk talked.” He paused, then adding in a near-whisper. “I missed seeing your face.”

Your rosy lips parted in awe, and he was almost certain that he was never, ever going to forget that expression of yours.

“And, um, h-how—how are you, George?” you stammered out with a shaky voice, curling up a little in your chair. “Are you doing okay?”

George opened his mouth, then shut it. Whenever people asked him if he was okay, his mouth always defaulted to “fine” or “good” or “okay”. Rarely did he ever find himself telling the truth. But now, as he looked at your shy, bashful face, he knew what he had to do. Straightening up, he looked his webcam dead in the eyes.

“I,” he said, “am really, really nervous right now. Like, nervous out of my mind.”

You blinked, finally turning to face him directly at last. “Really?”

He nodded, his anxiety slowly falling away. “Yeah. Do you know why?”

Recognition flickered through your eyes, and your cheeks grew hot once more. “Why, George?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and smiled.

It’s now or never.

“I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. What I said earlier was true. It wasn’t some bit, and it wasn’t just some spur of the moment thing. I really do like you a lot, and I would like it if you would be my g—”

He almost choked on his own words, oh-so very aware of just how hot his face was. “And I,” he began again, squeezing his eyes shut, “would love it if you would be my girlfriend.”

He couldn’t look—he couldn’t. He missed seeing your face, he really did, but he knew that if he looked now, he would only be met with disappointment. You, with a frown on your face, only deepening with each passing second. You, with guilt in your eyes for not reciprocating his feelings. You, with your soft lips mouthing four words he wish he didn’t have to hear.

I’m so sorry, George. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so—

“I like you, too.”

His eyes flew open, his mouth agape.

Those were not the four words he was expecting to hear.

He lifted his head, his gaze taking in every inch of his screen. A bright, glowing smile was plastered across your face, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

“For real?” he breathed, disbelief wracking every inch of his being.

You nodded, a laugh tumbling from your lips and lighting up his insides. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

George felt a smile of his own creep across his face as he ran a hand through his hand, something happier than joy rushing through his veins.

Oh god, he thought, wanting to scream it from the top of the nearest building. I like you, I like you, I like you. I like you a lot lot.

“I like you a lot lot, too.”

He froze. Did I say that out loud, again?

Your grin widened. “Yes.”

For a second, he almost shriveled up in shame. But then he shook his head and laughed, basking in the warmth of your smile.

A few days ago, he might have been embarrassed. But now?

Well, if it was with you, he supposed he wouldn’t mind speaking his mind more often.

1K notes · View notes

arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

Note

Okay so I got a weird request for you 🥸 how would the demon brothers and undateables react to an MC that is turning into a demon? Like MC gets fangs, tail, wings ect from being there for so long or is maybe being corrupted? Could you make it a little bit fluffy, though but I can also see this being funny 🤪❤

This doesn't seem weird at all! The concept is actually really interesting

Lucifer:

Lucifer was going off on you and the other brothers; all of you were caught with his stuff

You just wanted to see what he was hoarding but turns out it was just cursed music and screaming skulls

He immediately charged over and began scolding his brothers

But when levithan made a comment about Mammon already selling his items

He went full demon mode, summoning a whip and began to twist it

"MAMMOOOOOOOON-"

Mammon bolted away, Lucifer hot on his trail

You soon found mammon tied to the chandelier

You glared at Lucifer and went off instinct

"let go off my horns-"

"not until you apologize!"

He kept trying to get out of your grip but you just held on tighter

They brothers were aware you were changing but he didn't expect you to get demon strength so soon

"I will prevent you from becoming a demon if you keep acting like this, this kind of behaviour will not continue-"

"Silence or I'll shake you like a goat!"

Mammon:

You found out about your corruption before anyone else

You've been trying to hide it - unsure if it's a curse or you're actually turning

You were hoping you could get the prince to see you but it turns out fate had a different path in mind

"Oi, I want my shades back, I've let you borrow them for too long-"

He was tired of going for his shades and them not being there

Too caught up in how cute you looked in them he let you borrow them much longer than expected

"Wait - no-"

"YOU GOT DEMON EYES! the hell- you turning into a demon?!"

"uh- suprise?"

He grabbed your face, examining your new eyes

"they're real pretty- not like your original eyes weren't but- forget I said anything, we need to find out what happened to you, dumn hu- uh demon."

Levithan:

The way you both found out was purely accidental

You both noticed your teeth appeared sharper but they both shrugged it off

Believing it to be normal as alot of demon food was meat and had that kind of fleshy tough texture

You were watching some new anime and you got excited

Your favourite character seemed to be on the urge of being killed off but then suddenly - they unlocked a hidden power within and survived!

You jumped up from your seat and cheered

"You're- YOU HAVE WINGS!"

You looked behind you and sure enough, a pair of wings were flapping behind you

"WHOA!!! wait so I can fly now?!"

"But how are you- YOU'RE TURNING INTO A DEMON!!"

You were too excited to care about the corruption of your body, jumping off the walls testing out your new wings

levithan had to quickly rush you to the others to show them what happened

None of them get how you're turning but glad you're taking it in stride

Satan:

When you showed him your growing horns, he was fascinated

Immediately taking you to his room to find his study on demon and human history

"it says here that demon corruption can turn humans into lesser demons but it's normally for those who are already damned to hell and have a bad soul."

You gasped

Wiggling your fingers at him as a wicked grin grew on your face

"so I'm secretly evil, like a villian~"

He just handed you the book, amused by your attitude

He was glad you were fine with your corruption

His eyes wondered and noticing a tail forcing itself out from your clothes

He couldn't help but blush seeing it wag, watching as you read through the process of corruption

"you're the furthest thing from a villian, but if you'll let me - I'll document this, you'll be making history."

"Really? I guess so though - did something just fall out of my body? I'm too scared to look."

"it's just your tail, it seems your body isn't processing the corruption the same so some parts are developing faster than others."

You whipped around, grabbing your tail and began to squeal

Yep, Definitely was the furthest thing from evil

But perhaps it was how open you were to the devildom that it made corruption easier on your soul

Asmodeus:

"Fangs suit you, make's you look more vicious~"

He grinned, a small growl on his voice as he admired your new sharp teeth

You tried not to get embarassed as he prodded at the bottom of your fang

You thought the whole transformation was really cool

This is what most humans want! Or atleast you believed so

When he finally let go, you checked your teeth out in the mirror

"they're so cool! But what's the point it's not like I'm going to be eating anyone-"

"you could always bite me, you know that option has always been open for you."

You ignored his wink and amused smile

You knew he was just teasing but deep down you were happy he was so positive about your transformation

You were scared they wouldn't like you anymore

But they were all supportive, especially asmo

"It's not like you're really changing that much so I don't see any issue, besides I'm curious if you'll be like me and have wings!"

That was a discovery you were yet to find

Your horns were growing steadily and your eyes have changed along with your teeth

But you were yet to get any wings or tail

Beezlebub:

When the brothers found out you were turning Into a demon

First the reaction was panic and wanting to fix you

But you said you were fine with it and the process wasn't hurting you in any way

They relaxed after that

But you actually growing extra limbs such as wings and horns the panic was growing again

"you're going to be alot stronger now, I'm glad."

You flexed your arms, bringing up your fists with a grin

"Oh? You wanna try to brawl or something?"

Beel still easily overpowered you, keeping your little fists at distance from him by pushing back your head

He was smiling, a light blush on his cheeks whilst you were trying to punch him

"No, I'm happy I'll finally be able to hug you without being scared of hurting you."

"oh-!"

You immediately got embarassed

You stopped trying to fight him, looking at him with a smile

"Let's test it out! I wanna see how much stronger my body is!"

Belphegor:

"Get your tail off my tail-"

You glared at him, trying to pull away from his arms, Getting overheated from how close he was cuddling you

You processed his words; wondering what he was talking about

"My tail?! I don't have a -"

He raised his tail to reveal that his and another tail were looped aroulnd each other, clinging

"OH MY DIAVOLO I HAVE A TAIL!!"

You were able to shuffle away, bringing your tail up to your face

You were just staring at it, not expecting to see it

"you're becoming a demon........wanna learn some demon swears?"

"there's special demon swears???!!! TELL ME!"

He chuckled, rolling closer to you and began speaking in a different language, it easily rolling off his tongue

The words felt familiar but you couldn't understand what he was saying

"What does that mean?"

"Let's just say you shouldn't repeat it until you want a demon to die."

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

He was immediately informed about your predicament

Demanding to see you as soon as possible

When he finally saw you, you were barely changed

Less prominent changes were already in effect but you were yet to truely look like a demon

He was both excited and scared

Excited to see this unique change and that you'll be able to stay in the Devildoom

But scared that this is going to be a hard thing for you and you'll regret and hate them all for corrupting you

But he was surprised by your enthusiasm

"What kind of horns do you think I'll be getting? I hope they're cool."

"I'm glad you're enjoying this, I didn't know un-damned humans could turn into demons."

"me either but I practically live here already so there's not going to be a difference."

He laughed, squeezing your shoulder

You were looking at yourself in the mirror

Just trying to find any horn bumps

"I think they'll be unique type of horns, like Barbatos."

He moved his hands to the side of your head, mimicking his butler's horns

You both agreed barb had super cool horns

"Wait- won't I get that special outfit all of you have when you're in your demon form?"

"i- i actually haven't thought about that."

"do those just magic on or were they chosen and now they're just attached to that form?"

You both had to sit down and actually think about this

Barbatos:

He wasn't too surprised you were having a transformation

It was only due time before the life of the Devildom effected you

But when you came rushing in to see him, tears in your eyes

That completely threw him off

"If you don't want this to happen, I'm sure my lord will let me shift the timelines and you'll be back to normal."

"No way! I wanna be a demon~ I'll have big fangs and spooky wings-"

Seeing your tears weren't one of despair

He smiled, cutting you off

"You'll have a tail actually."

You grew more excited, jumping up and down

When asked why you were crying

Turns out on the way to get him you bashed into one of the doors

He had to check if you had any bruises after you told him that

You took it as a good time to ask what kind of tail you'll have

But he just tapped his noses

"it would be better I keep it a secret, it's your corruption after all, I understand I'm doing this not to be mean."

You let him be

But as soon as your demonic features grew in more you were rushing off to see barbatos

Solomon:

"Hey, Solo! Guess what!"

You surprised your giddy up glee

Standing at the end of the stairs to his mini potions lab

He didn't look at you, too focused on his latest project

"What is it? You've turned into a demon?"

He laughed at his sarcasm

You just grinned, bouncing over to the opposite side of him

"yes actually! I'm finally allowed outside!"

His head snapped up SO FAST

when he saw your demon form he was shocked

Never would he assume you would turn into a demon

He's like Satan, wanting to research and document your progression and abilities

"We could make a pact, perhaps then the brothers will finally-"

"I'm not making a pact with you."

You two spent HOURS discussing your corruption

You were excited to learn more about the possibilities and he wanted to figure out how a non dammed soul was able to turn into a demon

"so, I'm going to be immortal like you, it's seems you're never getting rid of me~"

"After the first 10 hundred years you'll get bored of it."

"Oof- I forgot you're old-old."

He was not pleased

Explaining he was wise not old

You just shook your head, letting him ramble about how aging works for immortal beings and how the concept of age blurs

Simeon:

"Is it painful at all? When the brothers fell I know they had to go through a similar transformation like you."

He never saw his brother's transformation, just watched them descend from the heavens

He was looking at the few differences your new form was doing to you

But you seemed fine, smiling as you sat with him

"It feels weird, I know it's happening - it's more like an itch?"

"I'll see if I can get anything that'll help, you seem fine with the change."

You fully turned to him, grinning

"oh yeah! I think it'll be cool, I'll get to be immortal and stay with all of you."

His heart softened at your words

You'll be a peculiar demon, indeed

But that was okay and he was happy you were okay

He started guessing what animal would represent you

Wondering what type of wings you'll get

Or how your tail would look

"I'm excited to see what your demon form will be when it's complete, I want to see if my theories will be correct."

"I think you can see the future, your TSL story was remarkably close to what happened between me and the brothers and their bonds leading up to my arrival."

He just laughed, that secretive glint to his see

"it's but a mere coincidence but we'll see when the time comes."

Luke:

His best friend is becoming a demon??!!!

This is so unfair!

You were his HUMAN friend! His favourite human out of all humanity!

He was so grumpy about it

Mumbling how the demons corrupted you and now you're forced to stay in the Devildom

Meaning if he wants to visit he'll have to be there which he definitely 'doesn't' want because his friends mean demons are there

"Is there no way to reverse it?"

"probably but I don't wanna - I'm happy to become a demon!"

"But why?! Won't you miss your human life!"

He felt very conflicted; he wanted you to feel the way he did so you could understand him

But he knew you were happy and he wasn't too opposed to it

It's just the fear of change and you being upset or regretting your fee decision

You were always so nice to him

He truly believed you'd become an angel like him and Simeon

"nah, the Devildom has made me the happiest I've been in years, besides if get wings we can go fly together."

You wrapped an arm around his shoulder, hugging him close as he finally un-puffed his cheeks

"you- you wanna go flying? I guess I do want that... it'll be nice."

He smiled, calming down but still wasn't sure how to feel

He wanted to fly with you and even if you didn't get wings, he always wanted to show off his growing wings

If you had a tail he'd just find a different way for you to sour into the sky

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

omg i’m such a dumbass i can’t believe i missed your prompts😭 if it’s not too late can we get some window with suna? he’s just so perfect for it. hope you’re doing well!💓

Awa, you didn’t miss them at all! Thanks for requesting, I hope you’re doing well too ♥ I decided to make a continuation of the Kitsune!AU I did with Suna before here so I could work on his character more.

Window - “…How fucking dense are you?”

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You started buying groceries for two.

It was utterly idiotic that you tolerated that... person’s demands. Especially when you could barely afford to feed another person. More than once, you found yourself holding your phone, dialing the police. But when you looked up, seeing him merely laying on your couch watching TV, you completely forgot what you wanted to say. He didn’t look menacing. He didn’t even try to scare you like a robber would. And how would you even start to explain the fox ears and tail to anyone?

A hunter might have been a better option. But were they and their guns effective against mythical creatures as well? You tried to research it, google for every information you could find, but aside from stories and myths, there were no hints on the internet that this man should actually exist. If you believed the old tellings, they weren’t as uncommon to see back then, but their population seemed to have decreased with the humans taking over most parts of the world.

Thinking logically, that was still no reason for you specifically to endure him. Especially if it were the humans having the upper hand, he should be afraid of you, rather than the other way around! So what if you were nice enough to feed him?

You still couldn’t understand why he was sticking around you.

His ears folding back, Suna finally turned to you, glaring at you in annoyance. “Why are you staring?” he asked, and you flinched, noticing how you had peeked around the corner for too long. It was hard to avoid him, considering he took up a lot of your living space, but you were still reluctant to interact with him. “Just come over here if you want to watch the show.”

Truth be told, he never looked as if he was enjoying what he was watching, but you had seen him put on the same kind of program again and again over time, so surely, he must have taken a liking to it either way. “Is that... your favorite show?” you asked timidly, approaching the couch with a reasonable distance. Even if he was annoyed from your staring, he did invite you over, and it was as good of a time to ask him to leave as any.

“It’s alright,” he replied, and his tail gave a slow wag, making you think he did like it. “Cool, cool...” you mumbled, shooting the TV a short glance, the flashing of bright colors and the loud voices of the moderation appalling you. Suna’s attention returned to you, his eyes giving you a slow, appraising look up and down before he patted the free space next to him on the couch. “Sit,” he kept inviting you as if your presence standing next to the amenity was dissatisfactory for him.

Making this step was harder for you than you thought at first. Hesitantly, you slid on the cushion furthest away from Suna, pressing up to the armrest on your side while he was leaning on the other one, watching you from the corners of his eyes.

Why you even followed his instructions was puzzling, but you hoped he’d take what you were about to say better when you made him comfortable. Clearing your throat, you announced, “So, when do you plan on leaving...?” avoiding to look at him even after you finished speaking.

“Leave what?” A yawn escaped him before his attention shifted back to the program on TV. “My home... this house. Here?” was your lousy explanation, and fiddling with your fingers, you noticed that you were growing nervous with every silent second between you two.

“I don’t know--”

“I’m not going to feed you anymore.”

These words left you the second you heard his dismissive tone of voice and without much consideration. Simply, you were too scared to listen to his rejection. You wanted him out and rather yesterday than tomorrow at that. “I... I can’t keep feeding you. It’s too expensive; I’ll run out of money,” you tried to explain, hoping this was enough to persuade you.

“Huh...” he grumbled, his fingers tapping against the leather on the couch. “I don’t want to leave,” he eventually mustered to say, taking a deep breath before sitting up straight. “But you can’t stay...” you disappointingly replied.

“Can’t I?”

“No,” you said firmly, standing your ground.

Inching closer to you, his presence was suddenly unnerving. You wondered what the point was in closing in the distance, not sure what he would do. “I can’t feed you anymore a-and, uh, you are over... over-staying your welcome!”

It sure didn’t help that he was leaning towards you, slender features and pure skin soon covering all you could see. Black hair as you looked towards the ceiling, an unpredictable expression when your gaze graced his face.

“... How fucking dense are you?” he asked you suddenly, using harsher words than you had ever heard him do before.

Next thing you knew, he had your hands restraint, pushing your upper body back to bend over the armrest. The burning you felt of the strain in your back was your smallest concern at that moment; instead, you immediately focus on thin lips brushing down your neck and to your collarbones. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying.”

“B-But I-” you stuttered, trying to convince him and find a peaceful solution. Twisting and turning your wrists only revealed Suna’s strength, something he hadn’t used on you before, so you never had a chance to find out about it until now. “You won’t get rid of me just because you don’t feed me, you know.”

“What?” you squeaked, so sure of yourself that all your research had shown that animals who lost a source of food would move on. You had bet your entire confidence on this fact. “I don’t even need food,” he explained, seemingly reading your mind.

“Then why... Why did you stay?”

What followed was a long pause. So much so, you noticed your back pain again, twisting your torso to appease it and also moved your head around to free yourself of hair blocking your view. There was a vase on the coffee table. If only you could reach it, you’d have a chance of breaking free. But being able to see again, you noticed something moving rather excitedly behind Suna’s body, his tail wagging putting every dog to shame.

No second later, you felt the sharp pain of fangs in the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder, and you flinched hard at it, only worsen the feeling. “Ah-!” you wanted to cry out, but the sound got stuck in your throat as he loosened his jaw, moving slightly more to the right to bite down again.

This time, you felt the tears shoot into your eyes, shock, pain, and fear covering your senses. “Who knows~” he chuckled, seemingly amused about your reaction. Pulling away from you, you could see the bloodstains around his mouth, almost making you faint as you could ultimately realize that he did, in fact, bit you twice just now.

“Maybe I stayed for you? I couldn’t wait to get a bite for sure. Want me to eat you up?”

He leaned down again, and this time, as weak as you felt, you could see your life flashing before your eyes, especially when you felt his tongue drag over the wounds he had just induced. In what must have been a survival instinct, you managed to shove your hands into his shoulders, his grip having weakened as he didn’t expect you to resist. The next moment you were free, falling off the couch and to your feet, gone in the blink of an eye. You only stopped when the door to your bedroom closed behind you, and you locked it, sinking to the ground.

You had nothing on you; no phone or cell, nothing to make yourself known to the outside world. If you climbed out the window or exit through the door, you were almost sure you were a feast for the fox. There was barely anything you could do to calm your racing heart or stop hyperventilating as your mind desperately thought of alternatives. If this was just one of his jokes, you were taking it way too seriously, but how could you know?

How could you know what was true and false about the grinning fox spirit standing in front of your bedroom door, licking his lips in delight?

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry XV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), grief, death, some elements may be untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Lord Barnes faces the consequences of his actions.

Note: Yesterday’s chapter was intense, right? Well, here you go.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

The solemn servants carried the board as the woman's broken figure rested atop it. None knew if she was still alive and none were brave enough to ask. They just did as they were told as the duke, Lord Barnes, walked behind, his artificial arm gone, snapped from the impact of his fall, and his expression stony but bruised. He was streaked in blood; his own, the horse's, hers, maybe all three.

His closest friend, Lord Rogers walked beside him, mostly unscathed from the undue violence of their competition. The king and his wife trailed not far after the party as the body many feared was a corpse was balanced on the wide plank.

They were directed to the duke's chambers but did not move the woman from the wood. Instead they placed it atop the bed as her shorn skirts fanned around her and her stained sleeves laid like wings over her arms. They jostled her as they let the board down but she did not groan or gripe. She likely could not, if she could do anything at all.

The duke paced and stopped now and then to stare at the woman as he awaited the physician. The king and queen sat grimly on the cushioned bench before the dwindling hearth and the other nobleman stood by the window.

"Where is the healer?" Barnes growled as he came to the foot of the bed, "they will kill her with their indifference."

"He is coming," Samuel assured, "it will not be time that kills her, likely,"

"Oh shut up," the duke snarled, "she will live. I know she will."

"Brother," the queen said softly, "she was trod into the dirt… you cannot think--"

"She must, she must," the duke babbled and gripped the bed post as his eyes clung to her lifeless form, "she cannot--"

The knock came and Lord Rogers retreated from the curtains to open the door. The physician entered with his assistant and a chest with leather straps. He approached the bed with a morbid gaze. He looked her over then blinked at the silent duke.

"I am told she was caught beneath a horse," he said.

"Yes, yes, she…" Barnes' voice drifted off as his lips stayed parted. He was senseless as he could not look away from her.

The healer sat carefully beside the board and softly touched her throat. He nodded as his fingers pressed down and he brought his other hand to feel more firmly. He gave a long sigh and carefully moved her head.

"She is breathing. Barely. Her neck isn't broke but…" he felt along her shoulders and arms, her sides, and stirred around her skirts, "other parts of her, likely inside too."

"Can't you help her?" Barnes croaked.

"I can try," he replied hopelessly, "even if by some miracle she survives, she won't be the same. Not fully."

"Do what you can," the duke bid, "and the rest of you can go."

"Bucky…" his sister stood, "you shouldn't--"

"I said go," he snapped, "go away."

He turned his back to them again and stretched his fingers. He was shaking. His mouth was dry and yet he felt bile in his throat. She was stupid, she'd done it upon her own foolishness, so why did he feel so rotten?

🏰

She was a shell. Lord Barnes stared at the woman, cocooned in strips of linen atop his bed. It had taken so long for them to cut her out of her gown and bandage her. When he closed his eyes, he saw the damage done to her fragile body.

He didn't sleep, only fed the fire and watched her. He didn't pray, he didn't speak, he just sat there, ignoring his own pains. She could have killed him too, he reminded himself, he wished she had.

She hadn't awoken, hadn't even twitched, at times, he was certain she'd stopped breathing. But he would lean in and listen, too afraid to touch her, and he heard the deathly rasps. Then he sat again and watched and watched and watched. Nothing happened.

The physician returned with the day. She was the same as before. He checked her arm in its splint and went through his careful inspection of her. He gave the duke the same empty words. Nothing more could be done.

The days passed as such. The physician tried to feed her with assistance from his aide and they cleaned up after her humanly messes. They changed her bandages, a painstaking task, and shook their heads as they left.

Nearly a week went by and the knock at the door was heavier than that of the healer. Lord Barnes called for his guard to let in his visitor and the duke was on his feet at once. He curled his lip as the Baron entered with a tall thin man at his shoulder.

"My lord, I've not come to provoke you, though I do realise your distaste for me but I hope for the sake of this… woman you would set it aside," Lord Zemo spoke carefully. Barnes was surprised how the other man did not flinch as he came to stand close to him, his fist gripping wantingly at his side.

"Why else would you come but to pester me?" Barnes sneered.

"I have heard reports of the unfortunate woman who did collide with your horse. I have found her weighing often on my heart and despite what has transpired between us, she is innocent of all that," he glanced forlornly at the bed, "This is Werner. He is my personal physician. He has treated every type of ailment, even a similar injury suffered by a stable boy."

"I have a healer," Barnes insisted.

"I am aware but what is one more opinion on the lady's condition," Zemo argued, "you needn't bide me, only the healer. He is at your whim, not mine. Yes, Werner?"

"My lord," the taller man bowed to each nobleman in turn, "with your permission, I would review the lady's wounds."

Barnes inhaled deeply. He shook his head at Zemo and shoved him back. The other man stumbled and the physician watched in shock.

"I don't want your help," Barnes hissed, "how dare you come here. Be gone before you are in worse condition than her."

"Lord Barnes, can we not--"

"We can't," Barnes gritted his teeth, "now go. I am too tired for you."

Baron Zemo looked at him placidly and lifted a single brow. He turned to his physician and gestured him away. They turned and went back to the door. The foreign lord stopped before he passed into the corridor, "the offer stands despite all this. Just send for Werner and he will come."

Barnes stormed over and slammed the door behind the Baron. He hit it with his fist and swore loudly. He turned and leaned against the wood and dropped his head back. Why couldn't anyone just leave him alone?

🏰

The day after Zemo’s appearance, another unexpected knock sounded from the corridor. Lord Barnes barely heard it as he was half-asleep in the chair. It shook the door again and he woke with a start. He stood and stumbled over, too hoarse to call for his guard to do his job.

He opened it and reeled at the sight of the young Lord Parker. He scoffed and made to shut the door. Parker caught it and gave him a desperate look, brows drawn together and eyes sparkling.

“Please, I did come to see her but there is something I must also speak to you on,” the viscount urged, “please, hear me. For her.”

Barnes’ eyes tingled and his lashes flicked away the droplets. He shrugged and stepped back, retreating back to the chair as the boy entered. Parker closed the door gently and his lightly footsteps crept over the floorboards. The duke stared at the wall and wiped his sweaty hand on his breeches.

“So, what is it?” he asked.

The younger lord stood by the bed and stared down at the unconscious woman. He was pale, deathly so, and he spun away from her with a gasp of dismay.

“It is my fault,” he said, “she spoke to me before she ran in front of your horse. She said how I’d hurt her and she was right. And I only did it because I thought it would help her. That it could save her from you, even that it might protect my family as well.”

“She spoke to you?” Barnes asked as his hackles raised.

“Would you begrudge her that? Even now?” Parker faced him, “look at her! I claim my part in this horrid thing but you… you are just as guilty.”

“Is that why you came? To tell me I killed her?”

“Killed? She--”

“Not dead yet but she is dying. I know it. I’ve seen men die, it isn’t any different with women,” Barnes felt the tears well and wiped them away and sniffed, “and yes, I do know it is of my doing.”

Parker was silent and shifted on his feet, “I’m sorry.”

“Good bye, Lord Parker,” Barnes huffed.

The other man hesitated but slowly moved to the door. He glanced back before he left and as he did, the wind from the corridor blew out the only lit candle. Barnes sat in the flicker of the fireplace and leaned forward to hold his face. His chest tightened as the dread coiled up his spine like a snake.

He thought if he didn’t say it aloud, it couldn’t be. He thought he could save her still. He hoped…

He stood and marched to the door. He ripped it open and grabbed Lester by his cowl, “go! Zemo’s man, fetch him.”

🏰

Werner changed the woman’s bandages and stood to wrap up the used strips. It was the third day he’d been to the Duke’s room and the lady did appear more lively, even if she had yet to wake. Her breaths were deeper and there was a new tone to her complexion. The physician packed up his chest and tutted.

“I know my master is… a particular sort of man but you should have called me sooner,” Werner said, “your healer, he did not wrap her ribs well enough and he should know how to feed a patient in her condition properly.”

“Thank you,” Barnes said, “is she getting better?”

“Better than she was, certainly, but will she get any better? Well, my lord, where I am from, we do not dampen the truth with hope. This is likely as good as she will be ever again,” he held his chest under his arm as he faced the duke, “many who have faced a horse’s step have not fared so long.”

“And there is nothing you can do? Nothing else?” Barnes frowned.

“I can see to your own wounds. The ones you’ve not treated,” he offered, “you’re lucky the cut on your cheek has scabbed and not festered. You should allow me to examine the rest.”

“Suppose… suppose you are right,” Barnes relented, “the cuts and bruises are mostly healed but I have a pain,” he touched his shoulder, “I’m afraid I’ve made it worse in my anger.”

“If you would,” the physician replaced his chest on the bed, “you might remove your tunic and I will have a look.”

Barnes nodded and carefully stripped his tunic. He hadn’t replaced the arm forged in steel and wood. It was useless anyway. The healer moved around him and felt along his shoulder and told him to lift his arm.

“It is still in place but likely sprained--”

Both men froze as the woman coughed. Barnes pulled away from the physician and raced to the bed. The taller man caught up to him and stopped him with a hand on his chest. He tapped his bare skin and held up his finger.

“Wait, don’t--” Werner moved to sit next to the woman as her body tensed and and her breath harried and stopped all at once, “there is trouble.”

He bent and listened to her chest then moved to open her mouth. He opened her lips and covered them with his own. Barnes had never seen such a practice as the man blew into her mouth and pumped her chest. He was careful but firm as he varied between puffing and pressing.

“Is there anything I can do?” Barnes asked.

Werner shook his head as his tending grew more frantic. He leaned over the girl again as he stopped and he touched her cheek daintily. He was quiet as his hand moved to her chest then his fingers crawled back up to her neck. He stiffened and sat up. He looked over at Barnes as the wrinkles around his eyes deepened.

“She is dead, my lord,” he said as he drew his chest into his lap and stood, “her heart seized. The pain, it was likely too much for her.”

“Dead?” Barnes echoed airily.

“My apologies, I did all I could--”

“Dead.” Barnes affirmed, “well, then I suppose you might send for a carpenter.”

“My lord?” The physician questioned.

“For the coffin,” the duke answered bluntly as he turned away, “I thank you for trying as hard as you did. I should’ve let her go sooner.”

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nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

Luckless Romance

Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.

Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-

Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.

Please let me know what you think!

_____

August 2015

Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.

That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.

It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.

I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.

But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.

Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.

I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.

There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.

But it was more than just that.

There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.

Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.

"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"

"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"

Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.

"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."

His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.

"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"

I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.

"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."

Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.

"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."

There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"

My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.

"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"

"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."

It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.

"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."

"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"

"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."

Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.

"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

"As long as she promises to make better choices."

I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."

Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.

Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.

"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."

"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.

"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"

He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"

"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."

"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."

"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.

"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."

"Terrible is harsh!"

My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.

"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."

"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."

Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.

"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."

"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."

We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"

"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."

Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.

"Beginners luck!"

Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.

However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.

"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"

"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"

"It was clearly on your side!"

"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."

"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."

I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.

"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"

"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."

"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."

"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.

"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"

My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.

Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.

My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.

"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."

I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.

I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.

I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.

That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.

"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"

"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"

"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.

"Really? That's not a great area..."

"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."

"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."

"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."

"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."

Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."

"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."

Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."

I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."

Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.

"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."

"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."

"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."

"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"

"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."

"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."

"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.

"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."

"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"

"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."

"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."

"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."

I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."

"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."

"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."

Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.

"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"

"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."

They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.

"Really? Could I see them?"

"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."

I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.

"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"

"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."

We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."

I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.

"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."

"I did not!"

"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."

"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."

"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."

I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."

"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.

"You're just drunk."

"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."

There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.

"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."

Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.

My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.

I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."

"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."

Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.

"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"

Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."

"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."

"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."

Friends.

Good friends.

His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.

Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.

I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.

I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.

Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.

As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.

---

July 2016

And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.

I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.

But we kept things very much friendly.

There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.

My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.

I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.

"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"

"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."

"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."

I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.

"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"

I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.

"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."

"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."

"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."

Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.

"You're impossible."

"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."

"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."

The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."

I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.

It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.

"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."

"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."

"Nah, this place is great!"

"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."

"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"

I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.

"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."

I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.

Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.

"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."

"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."

I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.

"Then we'll stay in?"

"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."

"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."

"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."

I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.

"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."

He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.

"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"

"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."

"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."

"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."

"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."

"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.

"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."

"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."

"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."

I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.

"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."

"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."

"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."

"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."

Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.

"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."

I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.

"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."

"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."

"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."

"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."

I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.

Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.

"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."

Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.

"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."

The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.

"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."

"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."

"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"

"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."

"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."

I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."

Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.

"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."

"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."

That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.

"What was it about then?"

"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"

Chris shrugged.

"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."

"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"

"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.

"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."

Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.

"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"

I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.

"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."

"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"

I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.

"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."

"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."

I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.

Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.

"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"

He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.

"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"

Demonstrate.

Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.

Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"

Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.

His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.

He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.

It was now or never.

Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.

He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.

I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.

There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.

I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.

It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.

Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.

Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.

As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are we really doing this?"

I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.

"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."

I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.

In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.

Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.

"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."

His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.

"Alright, that's fair."

I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.

My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.

"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"So, you're like, always this strong?"

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."

My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.

"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.

"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."

With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.

I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.

Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.

"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."

"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."

He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.

I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.

I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.

"Now, it's your turn."

"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."

I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.

"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."

His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.

So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.

"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."

I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.

It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.

Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

Part Two

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#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot #once bitten/more hearts

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