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#greg 'heart eyes' house
malinaa · 1 year
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top 10 scenes that make me want to rip my eyeballs out of their sockets and stomp on them
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Wilson trying to convince House to take a case, and House going back and forth with him letting him beg until he takes the file and agrees to do it. Wilson asks him why it was so easy, and House responds, "You know why." And they both just stare at each other and smile. Idiots in love.
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wilson before house admits he was wrong:
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wilson after house admits he was wrong:
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papertowness · 2 months
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admittedly one of my favorite things about house ( that also drives me up a wall ) is that something Really Big happens and then the next episode they like loosely mention it like wow wasn’t it crazy that that happened . anyway haha
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1800-needs-help · 7 months
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Greg "passenger princess" House & James "wdym passenger princess, your crimes got my car towed away" Wilson
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honkustonkus · 1 year
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both of them almost went to jail in the tritter arc but by season seven wilson just goes back to letting house get vicodin in his name
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likeits2002 · 5 months
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Sleepy
Rodrick heffley X F!reader
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Wc:369
It’s Rodrick and y/n’s first sleepover
The sound of Rodrick's van honking outside my house instantly excites me. Tonight is our first-ever sleepover. I grab my bright pink duffle bag and bound down the stairs, where I find my mom in the hallway giving me a concerned look.
"Y/n, you be careful. I don’t want you getting into any nonsense," she advises.
I nod, blow her a kiss, and then smile at my dad who's practically glaring at the beat-up van with 'Löded Diper' amateurly spray painted across it.
I leave the house, shivering in the cold air, and start walking towards the van. Rodrick jumps out at the last minute, eagerly opening the door for me before wrapping his arms around me, then hopping back in.
I step into the van and chuckle at his hurried behavior.
"What's got you in such a hurry, Roddy?" I ask.
"You know your dad creeps me out," he admits as he steps into the car and leans over to give me a quick kiss, letting out a contented sigh.
"Mhmm. I missed you so much," he murmurs.
"Did you miss me or just my lips?" I ask playfully.
"Both," he answers, giving me a sly smile and booping my nose before starting up the van.
Rodrick practically drags me into his house. When we get inside, I try to greet his mom and Greg, but Rodrick is pulling my hand up the stairs, so I just give them a sorry smile and follow him. Once we're in his room, he gives me a hopeful smile.
"So, what now?" he asks.
"I don't know, Rodrick. What do you wanna do?"
He sits down on the edge of his bed.
"How 'bout we put on a movie or something?"
And that's exactly what we do. He selects some obscure emo film, and I lie down next to him, resting my head on his chest.
Eventually, the air grows heavy with sleepiness, and the movie loses its appeal. I sit up and look at Rodrick, paying close attention to his expressive eyes and fluffy eyebrows.
"Hey, can I sit here?" I ask, straddling his stomach.
"Mhmm," he says, his hands instinctively finding my waist and toying with my pajama pants from Victoria's Secret. I lean in close, running my thumb over one of his eyebrows, watching the arch in awe.
"You have great eyebrows, Roddy," I say with a touch of amusement.
He chuckles, his hands moving up to my stomach, giving me a gentle squeeze.
I can tell he's getting tired, and I am too. I run my fingers over his eyelids, gently coaxing them closed. I trace over his nose and brow bone, until after a few minutes, I hear his breathing soften. He's asleep, and so should I be. I reach to turn off the light and lay my head down on his chest, listening to the comforting rhythm of his heart.
A/n: this is my first fic on tumblr, please don’t bully me and please request. I will probably write for Rodrick, jersey shore, shameless, and umbrella academy, but I’m open to requests on anyone
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slut4sugu · 7 months
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐇 — RODIRICK HEFFLEY X FEM!BLACK READER
✰ including: intimidating but sweet reader, simp ass rodrick, mutual pining, rodrick suddenly not being as much as a usual ass to Greg (because you’re around lol) shy reader, golden retriever Rodrick fr, ✰ Summary: What it’s like crushing/ being crushed on by rodrick heffley ✰ authors note: Bro I js started thinking about how big of a crush I had on rodrick heffley sooo ima do sum random hcs for him <3
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def stares at you for a good 3 minutes the first time he saw you. Your whole dark streetwear/cyberpunk/y2k aesthetic was really doing it for him
though trust and believe he was gonna act like he didn’t know his left from his right when he was talking to you, your sweet smile didn’t help much either since it made his heart race like 80mph
once he notices how friendly and sweet you are he loosens up a bit
Introduces you to what music he listens to, and almost falls for you when he sees how much you like it.
Def would be into: girls with doe eyes/ droopy eyes, girls who smell like candy, girls who wear silver rings, sleepy heads, short girls, ‘mommy’ type girls, girls who wear band tees/ graphic tees/baggy clothes
When you first came over to his house to work on a project together his parents and brother were surprised to see he brought such a pretty girl home, though at first they all thought you were apart of his band.
Rodrick saw the hearts starting to form in Greg’s eyes when he saw your smile but he shut his brother down real quick. Flipping him off when your back was turned
He hardly got any work done because all he could focus on was your pretty voice and your probably soft hands, you noticed his gaze on you but didn’t say anything as you smiled to yourself before asking if he understood anything/ if he needed help.
You let out a fit of giggles before saying, “Rodrick you don’t have to act or anything around me yknow, just be yourself.”
You thought it was almost cute how hard he tried to be cool when you asked about things he liked/ did in his spare time/etc.
One time Rodrick had left you in his room to go deal with greg ‘messing with his stuff.’ leaving his phone behind, which had lit up with a text from one of his band members “still talking to that angel you were blabbering about earlier?’ (You never mentioned this to him and pretended you didn’t see the text, though it was hard to not smile so wide and tackle Rodrick into a bear hug when he came back.)
Definitely makes notes of things you like, don’t like, what makes you annoyed, things like that.
Always tries to be the first person to compliment you hair & like your story on insta
The way rodrick’s personally switches up when he sees you is almost cartoonish, he’ll be cursing his brother out one minute before following you around like a lost puppy and asking if you need anything the next.
Damn near blushes every time you initiate any type of physical contact with him and you think it’s the cutest thing, sometimes you tease him by getting close or resting your head on his shoulder when you feel even the little bit tired. (Though you know good n well that your heart is racing too.)
Accidentally tells you that he likes you from a butt dial ( rodrick froze when he heard your sweet voice say that you felt the same.)
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bonny-kookoo · 5 months
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Changes
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What do you do when the person you once were becomes the person you miss being the most?
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, no smut in this I'm sorry pls still read it :( there's some tension tho!!
Length: 6.5k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
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"Thanks for picking him up." Taehyung sighs, his son happily in the living room, taking a nap from school as he tucks himself in on the couch while his favorite show plays on the TV.
"I would've asked her, you know, but I feel like I'm relying too much on her again." The young father sighs. "I'm basically treating her the same as I did years ago, just without the pay."
"I heard about that." Jungkook says, drinking his coffee at the kitchen table where he sits across Taehyung. "She used to nanny while you lived separately from your wife, I think it was." He hums, setting his cup down. Jungkook isn't on bad terms with Taehyung's wife- but he tends to not say her name, because he honestly harbors quite a bit of distaste towards the woman who refuses to properly take care of her own child.
"Well don't you seem to know a bit about her now." Taehyung squints his eyes in suspicion. "What happened to 'she's too young for me anyways' huh?" He teases, and Jungkook sighs.
"Well, things.. happened. And we talked." He shrugs. "We're not.. really a couple, but we agreed to spend time with one another." He explains.
"So you're friends with benefits?" He wonders, drinking his tea while Jungkook leans back.
"No." He shakes his head, even though deep down, it does kind of feel like that to him, now that he thinks about it a bit more. "It's.. a bit more complicated than that. We're simply talking, seeing where it goes." He says.
"Hmhm." Tae nods. "Just don't break her heart. I still got basically nightmares from her last relationship." He mumbles a bit angrily to himself, clearly a bit irritated even just by the thought of it.
"I.. wondered what happened." Jungkook says. "Dae said he was a drinker?" He wonders, and Taehyung nods.
"Drinker, druggie, abusive asshole." He huffs, crossing his arms. "It's the main reason she moved away when Daehyun was younger. She wanted to protect him- make sure he won't get hurt."
"Was he violent?" Jungkook wants to know, because honestly, he has a hunch that that might've been the case. Taehyung seems on edge now, clearly torn between probably saying the truth, and respecting your privacy. "I was intending to ask her anyways. But she seems like the type to downplay her problems in order to make things seem less serious, so I thought you might be more honest." He adds.
"Yeah, she is like that." Tae agrees softly. "I'm not too sure what exactly went down. But I do know that she.. distanced herself out of fear that Daehyun might get hurt." He tells his friend. "Greg started to pick her up every time she'd babysit Daehyun at my house, even after I told him I didn't like that. He still did, still argued, turned up drunk multiple times at my doorstep." The young father remembers. "I kept her with me, of course. I'd never let her drive home with that alcoholic- but I guess something must've happened because she just.. suddenly cut contact." He shrugs. "Sent me a text, changed her number, moved out her old apartment."
"When did she come back?" Jungkook wonders.
"According to Yoongi, a few weeks before the aftershow party." Taehyung responds.
"So that's why you didn't recognize her?" He figures, and Tae nods.
"She changed a lot. Not just visually. She's.." His eyes lower to the cup in his hand. "..a lot more quiet. Cautious. Jumpy." He informs his friend. "And at the same time, she seems to mask a lot of it- get's irritated easily. She's trying to be who she was, but it's obvious that something changed, and whenever someone notices, she becomes defensive."
Jungkook doesn't really know what to think. Looking at Daehyun on the couch, he can absolutely understand your standpoint back then to get away from Taehyung's family in order to protect them- but that means there must have been at least some form of fear against your former partner to make you believe that he could potentially be a danger to the young boy and his father. It could also just be jealousy, of course- but Taehyung is right. You are a little odd sometimes.
And he doesn't know if he wants to know exactly why, or if he wants to let sleeping dogs rest.
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Jungkook leans back in his office chair, headache already almost too unbearable to him, especially considering the woman who's making her way up in the giant corporate building to see him.
She wants money again, he knows it. Evelyn only ever visits him if there's something she wants, after all.
"One might argue they'd know me by now." Evelyn huffs as she enters the office, hair a bit wet as she throws her coat over the chair in front of his desk, before she sits down. "How're you doing?" She wonders, and Jungkook doesn't look away from his laptop's screen whatsoever, still looking through his e-mails. He doesn't have to put too many thoughts into this conversation after all- she's most likely just here to leech off of him again.
"Cut it." He simply says. "What do you want?" He asks, phone on his desk vibrating and chiming with a new notification.
'I can just drop something off for you? I just got off work myself, so it's no hassle.' your message reads, an answer to a former rant from him about his headache, and the fact that he's 'locked in like a dog' in his office and without any proper food ever since this morning. It makes him softly smile a little, the fact that you want to bring him something to eat even though you're probably exhausted from your shift as well is something he's not used to. And he didn't even have to ask for it.
'Only if it's really not an issue for you' his answer reads, and you send a thumbs-up emoji as an answer, before you finish typing your proper answer.
'DW, is anything okay or do you want something specific?' you question, and he immediately types a response.
'Just whatever, really. Nothing too spicy though, please.' he offers, when a hand knocks on the table in front of him, the woman in his office dragging him back into reality with force. He signs, locks his phone before he puts it down, opening a chat with the front desk downstairs to let them know to bring you up when you arrive.
"You know, this was always the issue, Jungkook." Evelyn whines, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. "You're so consumed by your work, it's crazy." She shakes her head.
"That wasn't work, actually." He bites back with a monotone voice, not really offering her any emotion whatsoever- there's nothing left in him anymore he could offer anyways. She took it all, sucked it out of him like an insect, and now she's constantly upset that he's empty inside.
"Anyways, I got this letter recently stating that there was an issue with the bank transfer?" She says, giving him the letter to read- which he does, flying over it just to remember why that bank transfer did not go through. "I told them that they'll get their money by friday." She hums, leaning her face on her palm while he gives her the letter back.
"What do I have to do with it then?" He asks, and she sits upright again, tilting her head a bit in irritation. "You said they'll get their money by friday. Good. Why are you here then?" He asks, arms crossed, office chair squeaking a bit as he leans back into it.
"Well, it's your bank account!" She laughs a bit unsure. "I don't even know why there was apparently not a sufficient balance on it." She argues.
"I resigned the automatic transfer rights." Jungkook tells her, face not moving an inch as he breaks the news. "The letter doesn't mention an insufficient balance at all, Evelyn. It states that there's no bank account set for the automated transfer option at all." He informs her.
"What the fuck Jungkook?!" She barks. "And you didn't even tell me?!" She yells, standing up to slap her hands on his desk. "You can't just make these changes and not inform me about it! Do you know how expensive that was?!" She accuses, and he shrugs, noticing something move behind her, milky glass front of his office hiding what's going on inside and outside, only letting shadows be seen if someone's close enough. "I'll text you the invoice later, and you better fucking pay, you asshole!" She says, when she whips her head around, someone opening the glass door.
"Thanks." You tell the office lady having let you in, before your eyes widen, door closing behind you and instantly drowning out all noise except the very slight sound of the fan in the corner of the room.
"Ah, there you are." Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling a lot lighter as he looks at you. "Come here- is it still raining a lot?" He wonders easily, taking the white plastic bag from you to set it on his table, before giving you a small hug to greet you. "I think that was all you wanted, wasn't it?" He asks Evelyn, who hasn't even gotten up from her seat, instead clearly studying you now.
"Actually, no." She tells him. "And it's kind of private, so it would be real nice if your assistant would leave." She tells you with a smile that reminds you of a snarling dog.
"Then come back a different day." Jungkook answers her however, offering to take your coat from you to hang next to his own on the wall close to the large windows. "Right now I'm really not in the mood for whatever it might be. Especially not with my girlfriend in the room." He bluntly says, and something seems to flash over her face at the mention of your alleged role in his life.
She slowly stands up to take her coat from the back of the chair, movements a lot slower now, a glare sent into your direction. "Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart." Evelyn tells you, slipping into the sleeves of her coat. "His first love will always stay his job." She almost threatens, before she takes her purse and leaves through the door, leaving a confused you, and a clearly exhausted Jungkook behind.
"Please, sit down." He offers, and you do so, watching how he leans back in his chair, hands running over his face before he sits up again. "I'm sorry. That timing couldn't have been worse." He sighs.
"Ah, here. Do you have water here?" You wonder, and he nods, pointing towards a water dispenser in the room. "Oh, fancy." You laugh, walking up to fill a cup to put in front of him. "I take them myself, they usually help really quickly. Not trying to murder you." You tease, and he chuckles, taking the medication and the cup for himself.
"Thank you, really." He sighs out before taking the pill, washing it down with half of the cup's contents before he closes his eyes for a moment. "God I hate her so much." He suddenly breaks out laughing, before he shakes his head, digging through what you've bought for him.
"I assume that was your ex wife?" You wonder, and he nods.
"I'm also really sorry for telling her you're my girlfriend when we haven't even talked about that yet." He tells you a bit.. shyly almost, while you pull the bag closer to take something out for yourself.
"It's fine." You shrug. "Got a nice ring to it, you know?" You joke, and he smiles, starting to eat.
It's quiet, but not oddly so. He enjoys this a lot, this company without any pressure, no eerie sense of something being about to happen. You're clearly here because you want to be, there's nothing you want from him, nothing you need, nothing you could gain from this. It's just what it is, nothing else, nothing to red between the lines.
"You can ask why she was here, by the way." He offers you, wiping his mouth with a tissue.
"I don't have to know." You say, however. "It's got nothing to do with me- right?" You ask, and he nods. "Then it's none of my business. You can rant to me about it, sure, but I can't really give you any opinions on it since I don't really know her, or the situation around you and her." You tell him.
Jungkook watches you for a moment, before he nods. "You're right." He agrees, letting go of the topic entirely for now. He know it's only fair to talk to you about it at some point- but right now is not the time for that, he decides. "Do you want me to drive you home later? I really only have to answer this one E-mail and then I can clock out." He tells you between bites, wiping his fingers before he taps away on his keyboard.
"If it's not a bother, sure." You shrug. "You said you got the weekend off, right?" You ask him, and he nods a bit absentmindedly. "Then how about you stay over?" You ask, and that definitely seems to catch his attention.
"Stay over?" He asks, just to make sure he heard it correctly, and you nod.
"Yeah." You nod. "It's, you know, what boyfriends do with their girlfriends." You tease, making him roll his eyes. "We could cook something, watch a movie. Oh, and one of the lightbulbs in my kitchen broke, so maybe you could fix that for me?" You chirp, and he suddenly smiles brightly to himself, clicking something on his laptop before he shuts it down. "What's that grin for, mister?" You ask, and he just shakes his head.
"Nothing, really." He tells you. "I'm just really happy." He confesses, and you smile the same, now a bit shy.
"Well, what's your answer then?" You wonder, watching him pack the leftovers back into the bag, before he walks to get both his and your jackets, helping you into yours.
"My answer is yes." He says, voice very close to your ear as he leans over your shoulder from behind you, hands on your arms for a second. "I'd love to stay over and fix that lightbulb too, of course.-"
"Since I heard that's what boyfriends do with their girlfriends."
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"There we go." He says, slowly climbing down the plastic kitchen chair you're holding onto just in case. "Anything else while I'm here?" He genuinely asks, and you shake your head, moving the chair back to the small kitchen table.
"No, that was all. Thank you, really." You say, before you move to open the fridge, taking out some things while he stands around with his hands in his pockets. Your apartment is pretty small- living in it together with you would most likely prove to be way too much, but he still thinks it's better than his own, in terms of.. quality.
His own home feels empty. There's nothing in it, it's way too big for a single person, and the view from so high up above the clouds has long lost it's charm to him.
He sits down at the kitchen table, leaning on it a little as he watches you wash some vegetables before you grab a cutting board and a knife. "Daehyun said you're a little lonely without your dog." He says, and you giggle a little, smiling to yourself. "Have you considered getting another one?" He wonders, but you just shrug.
"I'm too busy at the moment." You deny. "I used to bring him to work with me, since he was a very quiet and calm dog, which fit perfect into our office." You remember. "He'd always sleep under my desk, right on my feet. Always kept them warm." You softly say, and he notices that he might've struck a still hurtful topic if only from the sound of your voice becoming somewhat tighter.
"I can imagine. I always wanted a dog too-" He sighs, leaning back. "But.. Evelyn, the woman you saw today, she doesn't like them. So it was out of the question."
"Really?" You wonder, cutting up the vegetables. "I mean, I guess, if both of you were really busy then it probably was for the best." You hum, tension leaving you again. "Gotta look at the bigger picture."
"Yeah, maybe it was for the best." He agrees. To be honest, Evelyn would've probably fought over the dog as well, just like she did over the apartment, and other more petty things like fucking furniture. She wanted to ruin him, if financially then emotionally, and somehow, she somewhat did.
It's quiet again, when you, surprisingly to him, cut into a topic he did not expect.
"His name was Greg." You say, filling a small pot with water before you place it on the stove, turning it on. "You probably talked about him with Taehyung."
"I did." He admits. "But there's not much I know." He offers. "And like you said about my situation, I don't have to know about things that don't concern me. However-" He begins, getting up to now stand closer, find your gaze that's turned downwards onto the cutting board. "-I don't want to accidentally do something that might make you uncomfortable due to past experiences." He says.
"What a tactful way to ask me if I've got any trauma from that guy." You chuckle, moving to put the cut up vegetables in a bowl before you continue the preparations for dinner.
"I'm trying to be gentle here." He attempts to lighten up the mood, and you indeed smile at that.
"And I'm very thankful for that." You offer him, before you sigh, setting down the knife. "I don't.. think we're at a point where I should be dumping all of what happened onto you." You inform him, and he nods, accepting that. "I don't like yelling. If I feel uncomfortable, I'll probably try and get myself out of a situation by any means necessary-" you admit, turning a little to look at him. "-and that will probably include some nasty words thrown your way, if that get's you away from me." You tell him. "And I don't like alcohol. Even if you hand me full on medical evidence that you can't even get drunk, the moment I smell it- I just can't trust you." You say, and he nods.
"Alright, I respect that." He nods.
"I'll also get pretty clingy over time." You add on, making him nod. "And I can be annoying. I'll text you a lot." You continue, and a small smile sneaks itself onto his lips as he shrugs, crossing his arms. "The moment you invite me into your home I'll practically steal half of your closet contents-"
"Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you grow quiet, eyes avoiding him. "I'm obsessed with my work." He begins his own rant, standing up to walk closer to you. "I never have time for anything else. I'm boring. Sometimes rude, and immature. I'm a perfectionist, but I'm also lazy. I snore, and I work out too much to the point where I'm sweating buckets. I'm a little messy." He tells you, hugging you from behind, though not very intimately- giving you a clear way out if you so want to.
"…is that what she told you?" You answer, and he smiles.
"Let's just agree on getting to know each other just the way we are, not the way someone else described us in the past." He offers, and you nod.
"Alright." You hum, before you push him a little playfully. "Now go and let me cook in here, boyfriend." You tease, making him grin impishly, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he does not walk away from behind you, hands now flat on your ass. "Hey!"
"What? I'm out of your way like this." He tells you almost innocently, hands moving to hold your waist now.
"Sit down there and let me cook!" You laugh.
"But we wanted to cook together, no?" He wonders. "Like.. boyfriend and girlfriend." He leans his chin on your shoulder.
"Well, boyfriends let their girlfriends cook in peace." You threaten, making him chuckle as his fingers squeeze your hips a bit.
"Not if their girlfriend is this attractive." He purrs, making you roll your eyes.
"Jungkook…" You wonder, suddenly way more serious, making his stand up straight again so you can face him. "Is.. that what we are now?" You ask, and his lips part for a second, unsure of his own answer. "I mean, it's fine if we're just playing around. Just.. I'm scared that we might end up in some.. unnecessary drama down the line if we're blurring the lines too much without properly discussing things first." You say.
"What do you mean?" He asks, and you sigh.
"What if you end up calling me.. your girlfriend just as a joke? But I start believing it at some point- thinking we are something serious when we're not. Or the other way around." You explain. "I don't want us to get hurt again. Neither of us."
Jungkook takes a deep breath, and from this close proximity, you can make out two odd dots near his bottom lip you're not too sure of. You might ask him about them some other time.
"Let me take time off of work. Next week, three days." He offers, catching you off guard. "Let's go on a trip. Together. Someplace no one knows us, and we don't know either." He tells you.
"I mean- I would've had friday and the weekend off anyways but-"
"Okay, great, perfect. I'll cancel my Friday meetings." He tells you, hands moving- at first, they seem to attempt to hold your cheeks- but it's like that feels too intimate yet, so he settles for your shoulders. "Let's get to know each other. The real you and me that got.. buried at some point." He offers.
"Why on a trip?" You ask.
"Because it's perfect." He chuckles. "Close proximity of the hotel room we'll share, stress of navigating the unfamiliar environment, the tension of not being able to just 'escape' any uncomfortable situation right away forcing us to talk things out as they happen-" He begins, and your mouth shapes an 'o' as you realize what he's talking about.
"It's a stress-test." You say, and he nods, grinning.
"Exactly." He nods.
"…to be honest you're already stressing me out." You jokingly reply-
Jungkook laughing, and you have a feeling he's not done that in a long time, with the way his ears turn red and his hand covers his mouth in embarrassment of that outburst.
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When Taehyung opens the door, he instantly greets his son who Jungkook has put down the moment he'd noticed the young father arriving at the front door to let him in.
"Oh wow." Taehyung laughs as Jungkook walks in, almost nervously running a hand through his hair. "Is the world ending? Apocalypse? Or am I high?" He jokes, making Jungkook roll his eyes. "No, seriously! I didn't even know you could still put those piercings back in!" He laughs, taking Dae's school backpack to take out his lunchbox so he can sort out the leftovers and wrappers from his snacks.
"It was a bit tricky, I won't lie." He laughs a little. "But they didn't really close all that much since I had them for so long, so it wasn't a big deal." He shrugs.
"What's the occasion?" Tae wonders, throwing the wrappers of Daehyun's snacks in the trash. "You most certainly don't look like you're gonna go to a meeting like that. What happened to 'I'm not in my twenties anymore' huh?" He jokes.
"I'm honestly not sure." He answers, hands in the pockets of his pants. "Just.. felt like it. And I'm not going to the office- I took time off." He confesses.
"Okay, are you running a fever?" Taehyung asks, and Jungkook laughs to himself. "Are you gonna meet up with your.. friend?" He air-quotes, and Jungkook nods, checking the silver watch on his wrist.
"Yeah- we're meeting up later, she's currently packing her things last thing she texted me." He nods. "Our flight is in about three hours from now, but it's her first time flying, so we wanted to be there a bit early just in case." Jungkook shrugs.
"Oh, fancy." Taehyung laughs. "Why though?" He wonders, washing the colorful lunchbox of his son in the sink.
"Stress testing." Jungkook offers. "We just want to see if we can handle each other under pressure." He says, and Taehyung sighs.
"My god Jungkook, can you just once try and not make everything more complicated than it has to be?" He worries. "Just spend time with her. Go out for a coffee or something, watch a shitty movie at home and let her suck you off during the commercial break or something, you know, like NORMAL people!" He whines. "You're acting as if this is some million-dollar business discussion. It's really not." He huffs out in frustration. "Listen, I know Eve fucked you over bad, and honestly you've always had a shit-taste in women to begin with because holy fuck if I think back to Lucy-"
"Can you get to the point?" Jungkook complains, a little embarrassed as his friend brings up his admittedly terrible dating history.
"-yeah, sorry." He laughs. "But, trust me-" Taehyung says, drying his hands before he puts them on his friend's shoulders. "-she's honestly perfect for you. Once you help her get her confidence back up, trust me, you've got yourself someone who's not a raging cunt for once." He finishes his rant, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.
"You think?" He worries, and Taehyung nods.
"I do." He says, patting his friend's back before he leads him to his front door. "Be yourself. And I mean, your real self. Be that goofy dude who cries during disney movies and folds his laundry to Depeche Mode at 3 am."
"Why would I do that?" Jungkook cringes, thinking his friend is joking- but he's surprised to find Taehyung with a soft gaze instead, an encouraging smile on his lips.
"Because that's the Jungkook I know." He offers, a somber look on his face.
"And I miss him."
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
"Let me take that." He offers, taking the suitcase from you. It's small, scratched up, and he can't help but notice the stickers on it. "You good to go?" He wonders, and you nod, closing the door before locking it, walking next to him out the apartment building towards his by now familiar car, his own luggage already in the trunk where he puts yours now as well.
The moment you sit next to him inside, is when you notice how.. different he is today. Not only from looks alone- but it feels different, oddly enough. Lighter. Not as serious as he usually is. "I wondered what those.. spots were." You say, looking at him from the passenger side, and he raises his brows while stopping at a red light, turning his head towards you, who points to your own lower lip.
"Ah, yeah." He chuckles, a bit bashful. "I.. got them done in my early twenties. Took them out though, because.. I don't know." He shrugs.
"You don't know, of do you just realize that the reason was stupid?" You giggle, and he sighs, with a smile on his lips however.
"Caught me." He confesses, changing lanes as he makes his way to the airport.
"Why'd you put them back in?" You ask, leaning against the car door a bit.
"Because I wanted to be myself." He explains. "I.. like I said. I want you to get to know me. And not the person I became to please others around me." He tells you.
"I assume your.. ex wife didn't like the piercings?" You ask, testing how far you can pry into his past and how much you can poke until he tells you off. But much to your surprise, he seems rather unfazed by the topic.
"She hated my tattoos as well. Wanted me to get them removed constantly." He chuckles, and you're intrigued.
"You've got tattoos as well?" You ask, and he nods.
"Maybe I'll let you see them later?" He flirts, and you grin to yourself, adjusting your legs a little as you stay quiet. "Either way, Evelyn didn't like a lot about me."
"Then why did she marry you?" You ask, noticing too late how mean that question could come off.
"Probably for my bank account." He simply laughs. "I was.. stupid. I thought she was fixing me." He shakes his head. "I thought she only had my best interest in mind." He says, setting his turn lights to enter the airport parking area. "But she always hated me. Still does." He sighs, searching for a proper parking spot.
"Well, I don't hate you." You tell him.
"Yet." He mumbles, before he finally parks the car, turning off the engine. "Do you have your passport and everything on hand? Don't wanna have to unpack everything in a rush later at check-in." He tries to change the topic, but you look at him with eyes so soft that he becomes scared of them.
"Jungkook." You say his name, and he hates how kind it sounds. "As long as you're not like him, I won't hate you. Honestly, I don't even hate him." You tell him, and he nods a bit stiffly, before practically escaping the car, instead putting on his jacket before helping you take out your suitcase and handbag.
Inside the airport, he notices your nervousness, hand constantly reaching out but never holding on to him at all, in any way. It makes him chuckle a little as he watches you fight with yourself for quite a while, before he helps you check in.
You're clearly a bit overstimulated by everything going on around you, looking around anxiously, biting the inside of your lips constantly, even as you both sit down to wait for your gate to open for boarding. "Hey-" He reaches out to tug your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before he smiles in reassurance. "Okay?" He wonders, and you nod, though you're not looking at him. "Come here. You can hold onto me, by the way, if that helps you." Jungkook suggests, and you move your arms to wrap around one of his, body scooting closer to lean your face against his shoulder, sweater soft against your skin. He moves his arm around your shoulders to keep you closer, hand offering itself for you to hold instead, and you do so, fingers cold. "What's that scar?" He wonders, thumb running over a faint scar over the palm of your hand.
"A shoelace." You say, a little quietly.
"A shoelace?" He repeats, and you nod.
"Yeah." You confirm. "I had.. I was in the midst of changing the laces of.. Gregory's boots, because the dog had chewed them. But he got mad anyways, and pulled them out of my hand." You remember. "It happened really quickly, but I remember that it hurt badly." You chuckle. "It was an odd pain. Like my body couldn't decide whether or not I was burned or cut."
Jungkooks hand on your shoulder starts to move a little in a soothing motion, fingers circling around. It's his first confirmation that something did indeed happen, and he's almost convinced that what you just told him was probably not an isolated incident, but simply one of many that went down during your entire relationship.
"I didn't want him to get mad at Yogi. He already hated the poor dog enough." You sigh, closing your eyes as you settle against Jungkook's side. He enjoys this close proximity, the domestic feel of this moment, even though it's out in public and for everyone to see. He doesn't care.
"You can heal with me, you know?" He says, and you look up at him from where you're leaning against his body. "I can't promise you that.. our time spent will be all smooth sailing, but I can assure you that it will be nothing like what you've experienced." He hums towards you.
And you smile warmly, sighing. "Don't worry-" you giggle, closing your eyes.
"-It already is."
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
The hotel room is spacious, expensive looking, nothing like you've seen before.
Usually, you only really get to see things like these on vacation photos your friends show you- you yourself don't really travel, you technically don't take time off at all, rather always asking to have your off-days paid out instead if possible. You've got no reason to treat yourself with anything, be it time off or a full on vacation.
Your sense of self worth has shriveled up like rotten fruit over the years, now thrown out like the garbage it is.
Jungkook meanwhile clearly has a routine in him, as he walks through every room first to check if everything's okay, just to then place his bag somewhere near the bed, a big yawn escaping him as he opens the balcony door wide, letting the air of the seaside in. It's odd to see him dressed rather casual, simple but expensive sweater stretching over his broad back. His face still shows the clear stress he's accumulated, and it makes you wonder.
"Do you.. go on vacations often?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.
"No, usually I only fly out for business trips." He explains, watching you sit on the edge of the twin-sized bed. "I originally thought I should book two single beds, by the way. I just.. thought it might be more intimate like this." He tells you, leaning against the small balcony's edge outside, glass door open, as the wind blows through the curtains a little.
"It's okay like this." You nod, making him smile softly.
"Do you want to rest a little?" He asks, and you shrug, unsure. You only have three days- if you sleep now, it's probably annoying to him since he most likely planned something on this trip for you both to do. He at least comes across as someone who likes to have everything set out and structured- not like you, who dives in head first without any real plan. You don't want him to stay hidden inside the hotel room just because you're tired from the flight. "Hey." He asks, and you didn't even notice him squatting down in front of where you sit, his hands on your knees as he finds your eyes from where he's looking up at you. "Don't hesitate to speak your mind. If we want this to work, we need honestly, first and foremost." He encourages, and you nod.
"I'm tired- but I don't want to be boring." You worry.
"How would taking a nap be boring?" he chuckles. "I'm actually glad you're tired. I didn't want to come off as an old man who needs a break because he can't keep up." He laughs, standing up before he moves to lay down on the bed, patting the spot right next to him.
You lay down where he wordlessly suggested, taking in a deep breath while focusing your eyes on the collar of his sweater for a moment. It's when your gaze roams around that you notice something poke out on his wrist as he turns back around from removing his watch from the other arm. Your fingers curiously lift the fabric of the sleeve, making him chuckle quietly, before he moves to push the fabric up to his elbow, exposing different colors of ink underneath his skin.
What was Jungkook like when he was younger? Has he always been somewhat like this- or has he changed into this instead?
"Got them done in my early twenties too." He explains quietly. "Just.. lineart at first. Black and white." Jungkook remembers as he watches you trace some of the lines with your finger. "Then it got more. Over time, it looked a little messy- so I added color to it, this time actually going to a professional who specifies in forming sleeves." He tells you.
"Do you regret them?" You wonder. "Like.. your piercings and your tattoos?" You ask, and he shakes his head.
"It's not like I regret them." He denies. "I still like the look of them. The aesthetic of it. It's just.." He sighs, inked hand turning around palm up, and you put your own on top of his, making him move to compare your hand sizes palm to palm. "..they don't feel like me anymore." He shrugs.
"Maybe because they aren't." You offer, now holding his hand with both of yours, your eyes on the blurred ink underneath the skin. "Maybe.. you changed. Even though you didn't want to."
He did. He knows that he did- but what he struggles with, is the question if he can even go back now. He wants to, but at this point, he feels like he's crossed that line by now, too far to step back and take a different path. Most people around him nowadays only now this Jungkook, not the one he used to be. If he just reverts back to who he once was, will he lose every friendship and connection he's made after he married?
Marriage. The moment he changed.
Love can make someone truly blind to a lot of things. He overlooked so many warning signs, pushed old friends and even family away just because they saw what he did not- or more so refused to. He's not spoken to his own parents in years, by now too ashamed to admit that he'd been wrong for the entirety of his past relationship, that his mother was right about her. What would she think about you?
She'd like you, he's very sure about that. His father would probably be a little suspicious of the age gab, and his brother would most likely tease the living daylights out of him, but he knows you'd fit right in. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? What would they think of him?
He wants to ask you, but the moment he becomes aware and snaps out of his thoughts, your eyes are already closed, breathing even. You're still holding onto him, and he realizes that he's never actually had a moment like this with Evelyn in the past, not even when they were just a regular couple, and definitely not after they got married. He feels.. free. No pressure on him, no obligations awaiting him, nothing needed or expected from him. You're simply sleeping, and yet the act itself makes his pride swell, because of your display of trust towards him.
He knows you've been hurt. He knows that he's been hurt-
And maybe, just maybe, together, you can finally begin heal.
Change once more, for a final time, into a happier version of yourselves.
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990 notes · View notes
skulls-soul · 1 year
Text
you know the van that Mario and Luigi have.
what if they lived in it… like Greg from Steven universe live in it not Vanlife Pinterest live in it
Give me luigi and Mario taking a shower at the gym cuz that’s the only way they can
Give me the boys sitting in a Walmart parking lot trying to make breakfast
Also them renovating the van little by little getting excited when they add in the most home made shit you’ve seen
One of them getting upset cuz it’s to cold and the blankets are being hogged by the other
After the boys find themselves in the mushroom kingdom and after saving the princess for the first time they’re given a small cottage on the outskirts of town since they have nowhere else to go and princess peach has to say that it’s fine and it’s the very least that she can do all the toads in town agreeing with her.
When the boys finally except the gift all of them a.k.a. Mario Luigi princess peach toadsworth toad and toadette Head over to the location
Mario and Luigi get really excited and explore the house with childlike joy princess and the toads are all enjoying them wander around enjoying the place but they slowly get a bit concerned about a couple of things at the two point out
“Luigi! The bathroom has a tub AND a shower”
“Mario look an actual stove and refrigerator”!!!
“MARIO LOOK AT THE BEDROOM”
“ oh we would definitely be able to fit two beds in here”
Peach would cut in saying something like “oh are you guys gonna turn the other room into a office?” Which would lead to Mario and Luigi  look at the princess with wide eyes asking “there’s another room?!?” Is that this moment that the new friends would start to wonder what kind of living situation they had before hand.
At some point when the exploring is all finished peach will mention about how she knows that “this might not be able to replace your old home but hopefully it is to your liking” and Mario will be like “this place is amazing by far the best that they’ve ever had” and Luigi would be like “I’ll miss the van but it will always have a special place in our hearts”
 insert peach doing the Pikachu gasp meme
1K notes · View notes
fbfh · 8 months
Text
rodrick x hyperfeminine hcs pt 3: changes: the big prom: the sex romp: the season finale
wc: 2.2k
genre: angst and fluff, teenage dream
pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine!reader
warnings: roddy has low self esteem, madison and heather are not good friends prom trope, happy ending
summary: you and rodrick are both planning on ditching prom because if you can't go with each other, you don't want to go at all. fate has other plans, and rodrick thinks maybe prom isn't that overrated after all.
song recs: teenage dirtbag - wheatus, wasting love - iron maiden
a/n: LAST PART IN THE RODDY X HYPERFEM ARC!!! send me roddy asks bc this boy deserves more love. also if you get the clone high reference in the title I love you
(optionally) the iconic dress
tags @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @marveldemigod17 @celootaku1 @stay-to-reblog @whos-mixxie @mikulovingtrash @inthemindofaweirdo @b0nes-phobic @myymmeloo @wanderlustingcastaway @debbi3-debaser @lubunnii @imaybewrongbutidoubtit @cloverhasnobrain @bessonasa @strangelysamantha @1-800-starkindustrie @brookeskitty @1ummcalhoody6 @always1s4youbitch-blog @citri-koi @vincentluvr444 @brunnetteiwik @melllinaa @reeces-pieses @mentamaree @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @jinniy
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You’ve spent the last few weeks throwing yourself into the project of planning Heather and Madison’s prom outfits 
And hair
And makeup
And accessories
But that all comes with the territory of getting ready for prom
Once you decided to put them in soft pastels and flowy floaty ball gown dresses, word got out pretty quickly that that was the look for prom season in plainview
Everyone was getting the poofiest, softest dresses they could get their hands on
Soon selkie dresses and all their knock offs were sold out everywhere
Even white and pastel suits and tuxedos were selling like hotcakes 
Heather and Madison keep asking about your dress, but you don’t have the heart to tell them you don’t have one yet
Because you don’t plan on going
If you can’t go with Rodrick you don’t want to go at all
You don’t want Heather and Madison to be disappointed, so you haven’t told them that your real plans for prom night are to stay at home in your cozy pink pajamas and watch romantic comedies while you throw chocolates at the screen like a heartbroken Elle Woods
Rodrick has similar plans to blow off prom night
With less romcoms and pedicures, but he still has no intention of going
He managed to score Iron Maiden tickets for the friday after prom for him and the guys
Even though Ward is probably going to flake on them so he can spend the weekend with his girlfriend
Her parents are out of town then, so none of them can blame him
Rodrick’s been going out of his way to throw out every flier and leaflet about prom that gets sent to their house before his mom can see it
And it’s been going fine 
Until Greg decides to be a little asshole and get revenge for a harmless prank Rodrick pulled on him
Sure, Greg’s skin was stained blue for the rest of the week
But still
That doesn’t warrant showing their mom all the prom flyers and convincing her that Rodrick can’t possibly miss out on this developmental milestone 
Rodrick was desperate not to go
And he almost got away with it
But before he knows it, it’s prom night and his mom barges into his room with the flier insisting he goes
Rodrick tries everything he can think of to change her mind
“Mom, I don’t have anything to wear.”
She digs through his closet and holds up the only clean shirt and tie in his closet, giving him a look in response
“I don’t have a ride.”
“You can take your van.”
“I don’t have a date!”
That one gets him a 10 minute lecture about building character and planning ahead
“And I’m sure if you ask nicely there will be some girl who will dance with you. To real music, not that… screaming and thrashing and noise you’re always playing.” Susan says, pausing the spotify playlist he’d been blasting
Rodrick rolls his eyes at how out of touch she is
Everyone at school thinks he’s some loser punk
And now he’s going to show up late to prom with no date??
He’s glad prom is only for seniors, because he would never be able to live this down otherwise
Maybe it won’t be too bad
He can just sit in the parking lot and blast Green Day until it’s time to leave
“And don’t you think you can just go somewhere else, or hide in your van. You know my friend Linda?”
Susan doesn’t wait for Rodrick to answer
“Well, she’s a chaperone, and she’ll tell me if you’re not there. Okay? This is for your own good, Rodrick.” 
Fuck
Well, that idea’s out
“Fine, I’ll go…” Rodrick agrees, reluctantly giving in
Susan is delighted
She starts to leave so he can get changed, but he stops her before she can
“Can I borrow your eyeliner?”
A little while later, he’s sitting in his van in the school parking lot
He was already wearing black converse and ripped black jeans, so he just had to throw on the black button up and red tie his mom found
His hair was perfectly messed up from the nap he was startled awake from when his mom barged in
He shoves his headphones in his pocket, and after putting it off for as long as he can, he gets out and closes the door
Maybe it won’t be so bad
Maybe there will be some live music that’s actually decent
Ward and his girlfriend are already there, so maybe they’ll take pity on him and let him third wheel for a while so he doesn’t feel like such a total loser
He opens the doors to the gym, and is met with a hellscape of fluffy pastels and cutesy radio pop
Even the guys are in white and soft shades of blue and green and yellow
He feels like he’s going to throw up
He's in hell
This is what hell looks like
Among the hellscape of fluffy pastel tulle, Heather and Madison text you in a fit, wondering where the hell you are
You’re missing prom for god’s sake
You text them back the same thing you’ve been telling them all night
You’re running late, you’re having wardrobe malfunctions, but have fun and you’ll be there soon
When their dates leave to get them drinks, Madison sees someone sulking at a table
It’s Rodrick Heffley
She subtly takes a picture of him from across the room and texts Madison
🚨HEFFLEY ALERT🚨
He looks fucking pathetic lmao
Like how sad can u get lskjsldkfjd
Heather responds, laughing at what a loser he is
Only Madison didn’t just text Heather
She texted the group chat with Heather, her, and you
Your phone starts blowing up with more texts from Heather and Madison
You finally check their texts, assuming it’ll be more of the same
Your heart drops when you see a picture of Rodrick sitting alone at a table
“He couldn’t even get a date?? How pathetic 💀”
Your stomach sinks as you feel your heart break for Rodrick
He doesn’t deserve this
And neither do you
Rodrick should get to enjoy his prom
And you should get to have at least one chance with him
You have to see him
You have to crash prom and tell him you’ve been crazy about him since the moment you saw him
You have to ask him to dance with you
You have to try
Realizing how much you have to do in such a short amount of time, you throw yourself out of bed
You dig through your closet until you find your sweet 16 dress
It’s not at all on brand with the unofficial theme for prom, but it will have to do
You grab shoes and some matching jewelry and get dressed in a hurry
After throwing on the slinky, glittering, hot pink evening gown, you put on a pair of matching marabou heels
Your earrings and choker accent your glittering dress, and the high slit in the floor length skirt shows off your shoes perfectly
You finish pulling yourself together and rush out the door to get to prom as fast as possible
You feel like Cinderella rushing to the ball, hoping to meet prince charming
And you really feel like you have a shot at pulling this off. 
Rodrick feels like absolute shit
He didn’t think prom could feel this awful, but here he is
Alone at a table like a total loser while everyone else is dancing and having a good time
He looked around for Ward
And found him and his girlfriend hooking up under the bleachers
And in the bathroom
And in an empty classroom
So third wheeling is officially not an option anymore
He feels like everyone is laughing at him
Some of them literally are
And in a room full of poofy pastel dresses and suits, he sticks out like a sore thumb
His outfit does kind of look like Gerard Way in the music video for Helena
But that’s obviously lost on all his mainstream pop obsessed classmates
He’s in a crowded room full of everyone in his grade
And he’s never felt more alone
This is torture
He’s about to get up and leave when the doors open on the other side of the gym
Heads turn as a gasp fills the room, followed by low murmuring
The crowd parts like Moses parting the sea, and Rodrick looks over curiously
You emerge from the graveyard of pastel tulle in a gorgeous, slinky, hot pink dress that looks like Elle Woods and Marilyn Monroe combined
And you’re looking right at him
His heart starts pounding
You walk toward him as a hush falls over the room
This can’t be real
There’s no way this is real
“Hi, Rodrick.” you say softly
He’s confused as fuck and feels like he could cry 
You actually know who he is??
You know his name???
“...Hi,” he chokes out, unsure of where the hell this is going
You look up at him with your pretty sparkly eyes and he feels like dreaming
“I…” you start, and he realizes you’re looking at him the way he looks at you, the way he’s been looking at you since he first saw you
“I never got to thank you for playing at my party.” You say softly
Thank him??
You actually liked it??
Everyone is staring at you with their jaws on the floor, but neither of you notice or care right now
He manages to choke out a response that probably sounds really stupid, but you just giggle sweetly
Are you blushing??
“Would-” you start, finally deciding to swallow your nerves and bite the bullet 
You have to go for it
You’ve never liked someone as much as you like Rodrick and if you don’t try now you’ll regret it for the rest of your life
Rodrick’s heart is hammering in his chest
You look so pretty he could die
“Do you want to dance?”
The words are out before your nerves can take over
He looks at you in disbelief 
“Yeah,” he breaths, hoping that if this is a dream that it’s one he won’t wake up from for a while
You step closer to him, but you both freeze as the next song starts playing
It’s another oversaturated top 50 pop song
You grimace in unison 
Rodrick notices your mutual distaste for the overplayed song
If you really liked loded diper…
“Uh, here,” he pulls out his headphones and offers you one
“Thanks,” you say, trying to suppress the butterflies erupting inside you
It feels intimate, sharing headphones and listening to his playlists
You fight a giddy smile and pop in the headphone as he hits shuffle
A flash of fear that you’ll judge him for his music taste and this whole beautiful dream will be ruined burns through him
Your pause as the music begins to play
Rodrick’s fear vanishes as fast as it came when you look up at him with enthusiastic sincerity
“I love Iron Maiden!”
“Really?” he asks
He thought you couldn’t surprise him anymore than you have tonight, but this just keeps getting better and better
“Yeah,” you nod, smiling brightly as you place his hands on your waist
You sway softly to the beat of the song
You rest your head on Rodrick’s chest, a banger of a song playing in one ear, and Rodrick’s thudding heartbeat in the other
Neither of you are aware of the stares, of Heather freaking out behind you, of the whispers and the gossip or one of the teachers cashing in on winning a bet that Rodrick would actually dance with someone by the end of the night
Even if you did, you wouldn’t care
Rodrick holds you tight, never wanting this night to end
His heart starts pounding harder as he looks down at you, and you pull away from him enough to look up at him
He swallows, hoping this goes well
“Me and the guys are going to see Iron Maiden next friday and I have an extra ticket, would you want to-”
You’re already nodding
“Yes!” you beam
Going to an amazing concert with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen is literally what you’ve been dreaming of for years
Rodrick lets out a chuckle, overjoyed that this worked, that he’s dancing with you and you said yes
He makes a mental note to thank his mom for forcing him to come here
But he forgets it as soon as you stretch up, pulling his face down to yours
You press a warm kiss to his lips, one full of anticipation, one you’ve both been dreaming about
He pulls you closer, melting into your touch
He thinks maybe high school isn’t as bad as he thought
729 notes · View notes
Note
Could I request a House fic with the general prompt being a Doctor/Patient pairing? Like House is attracted to (reader) patient. Your choice of fluff or smut
So sorry it's late but this is my first House fic so I wanted it to be good! Hope you like it!
********************************************************************
Dying's Easy
House x reader
description - you don't want to do the surgery and House is determined to change your mind.
word count - 781
warnings - talks of death, illness, terminal illness, hospitals, surgery, being put under.
a/n - my first House pairing fic so let me know what you think!
Masterlist
REQUESTS OPEN - request here
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Your whole body ached and felt like your blood had been drained and replaced twice over. You tried to curl up onto your side, in search of the comfort you received from such a childlike pose. But the wires and your fragile bones screamed for you to stop. You fell back onto the bed as tears of frustration poured down your cheeks.
A knock from a distinctly wooden object halted your crying. Upon seeing the face of your doctor you quickly wiped away your tears. But he had already seen.
He limped forward and place a chocolate pudding cup and spoon in the space between your hands. Before moving away he squeezed one of your bony hands, a little part of him sunk at the feel of your fragility.
“I got you a present.” He gestured to the dessert with his cane.
You looked at him suspiciously. “They’re free for patients.”
“I never said I paid for the present. Does our love mean so little that you must attach monetary value to it.” He dramatically placed his hand to his heart in faux hurt.
You giggled. “Thank you.” He smiled at the flicker of joy but his frown returned when he saw your hands uselessly attempt to open the cup in spite of their shaking. He rose and took the cup and opened it for you.
You gave him the sweetest smile you could muster but sunk down in the realisation of your inability to complete the task.
He went back and dragged his chair closer to your bed as you slowly tucked in to the delicious treat. Only taking small bites.
You had come to enjoy the frequent visits with your doctor. It seemed he only needed to be with you to soothe his own worries which you saw furrowed on his face. His team had often remarked how unusual his behaviour was, comparing him to manic genius with no sense of empathy. You found their quips funny especially because of how anachronistic they were to the man who helped you fix your pillows any time you so much as squirmed.
“I heard you’re refusing the surgery.” You halted your eating, your face fell. Of course it was this.
“I just don’t want to.”
“You realise you aren’t choosing between some cosmetic alteration, this is the choice between living and dying.”
“Well maybe I don’t want to live.”
“That’s ridiculous everyone wants to live.” He rolled his eyes.
“Living’s tiring.” Your voice became childlike in your admittance. This shocked him as his focus was no solely on you. “I’m tired, Greg.” Your words shook and were on the precipice of falling. He took your shaking hand in his and they lay linked on your bed.
“I know.” He cooed. “I know I’ve been wrong before, but I know I’m right about this. I won for you, now just let me fight it. For you.”
You still couldn’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, afraid you’d crumble.
“Being alive is the worst.” You giggled at his dark quip. “But dying is the easy way out.” He used a finger to gently poke your cheek as you tried to contain your smile. “And I never took you for a coward.”
He sat there with you for a full hour. You dropped in and out of sleep but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of your hand.
Eventually Cameron came to prep you for surgery. House still did not let go.
You lay on the table and the surgeons bustled around you, the anaesthetist approached with the gas. House stood next your head and softly stroked your eyelids to offer some comfort.
“Just one thing.” You managed out. “If I don’t wake up, there’s something I’d regret not doing. Can you kiss me?”
House was stunned for a moment and looked around at the surgeons managing one ear on  the interesting turn of events. He carefully leaned down and planted the softest kiss onto your cracked dry lips. As soon as you connected he felt the stress leave your body and you welcomed whatever was to come. The gas mask was placed over your nose and mouth.
“See you in a bit.” House teased.
********************************************************************
Your heavy lids fought open and your blurry vision focused on the outline of your hospital room. Despite the post surgey pain, you could sense that everything else was gone. You were going to be okay. You strained your neck to turn to the side where your eyes landed on House, who’s bedraggled clothes indicated where he had slept waiting for you.
“Welcome back.”
You reached out a weak arm and cupped his cheek.
“Thank you.”
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Violent Nights - Part 1
Summary - Rafe is there for you after your ex got violent.
Warnings - Domestic abuse, soft boy Rafe, cursing
Part 2
Author note: Hi, I used to have a Tumblr when I was in high school and wrote a lot of fan fic. Stopped doing it for a while and kinda missed it, tbh. (I forgot my old account info - classic) but I'm back and ready to spread the joy of living in a fictional world! Yay! Let me know what you think!
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--
Everyone knew Greg, your boyfriend, was no good. He was absent, aggressive, and disrespectful. Truthfully you were only with him at this point because you were scared to leave. But the night he hit you was the night you knew you had to get out. 
It was late, too late to break into the Camerons house, but here you are at 1 in the morning typing in the keypad to their back door. Sarah always said you could stay anytime you needed a safe place to be. Between Greg and your shitty home life, you found yourself staying over there more than you’d like to admit. You loved everyone in the Cameron household, even Rafe, despite his reputation. They always treated you with kindness and made you feel so welcome. Normally you would never come over unannounced, or this late, but you were desperate. You knew Ward and Rose were out of town, Wheezie was at a friend’s for the weekend, and Sarah was likely with John B. You were praying that Rafe was also gone (he wasn’t). You just wanted to get inside, clean yourself off, and sleep in a safe bed. You opened the back door and started to sneak your way up to Sarahs room. In the mist of the darkness, you accidentally hit a glass off the table. Suddenly Rafe is running down the stairs with a bat in hand, throwing on all the lights.  
“WHO’S THERE?” You let out a yelp and threw your hands in front of your face. 
“Rafe! It’s me! It’s me, Rafe.” Rafe let out a huge sign, as if exhaling all his adrenaline. He drops the bat.  
“y/n, what are you doing here?” He said with exhaustion. “Sarah’s not here.” You kept your head down, not wanting him to see you.  
“I..I know I just needed to crash here tonight. Sarah said it was cool.”  
“Why what happened?” A hint of concern in his voice.  
“Don’t stress about, let me clean up this glass, and I’ll just head to Sarahs room when I’m done. Sorry to scare you.” You let out a weak chuckle. Rafe could easily tell that you were intentionally keeping your head low. 
“Look at me.” He said tenderly but still with assertion. You slowly lifted your head, revealing your red cheek, busted lip, and a forming bruise on your eye. You locked eyes with him. You had never looked so frail. The tears you had managed to stop earlier were starting to resurface. You trusted Rafe, yet you felt embarrassed for the state you were in. You eye darted back down. Rafe started walking toward you aggressively, and you flinched, he slowed his pace. He came up to you with such care, and softly cupped your cheeks, taking in every mark on your skin.  
“What happened?”  
“I got in a huge fight with my parents and on my way over here I tripped and hit the concrete with my face.” Rafe’s concern didn’t subside, if anything it intensified.  
“y/n, I have been in plenty of fights to know what a black eye looks like. Who hit you?” His voice sounded angry, but his touch was still so delicate. You looked back up into his piercing eyes. 
“Who do you think.” A tear finally spilled. His heart broke, but his body ignited with rage. His hands came off you, and he stepped back. You could see the veins popping out of his arms and his shoulders became tense.  
“I’m gonna kill him.” He grabs the bat and moves to the door. You quickly stepped in front of him, putting your hands on his chest. He immediately stopped and when he looked down at you some of his anger subsisted.  
“Please...please don’t. I don’t need any more violence tonight.” Your voice cracked and so did Rafe’s chest. He let the bat slip from his hands, and he let out another large exhale. He looked up, seriously contemplating if he should still go or not.  
“Okay... yeah, okay.” He looked down at you. Slowly he brushed a piece of hair away from your bruising eye. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” You didn’t want Rafe to see you like this, but you also knew he wouldn’t go back to bed knowing you were hurt. You just nodded your head.  
“Grab an ice pack and meet me in my bathroom.” You just nodded slowly.  
After you grabbed the pack, you made your way to his bathroom. He grabbed your hand and slowly guided you to sit on the counter.  
“I want to get some of this makeup and blood off, and then you can take a shower.” He pulled out one of Sarah’s make-up remover wipes, and slowly started to rub your eyes. You sucked in a breath but then leaned into his hand. You were surprised that he bothered to get actual wipes from Sarah and didn’t just use a wet rag.  
“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” You let out a shaky breath.  
“Well, after work, Greg told me to meet them at the bar. I really didn’t want to go, but you know how Greg is. After a couple hours I was over it. Greg was ignoring me, and I wanted to get out of this stupid dress. So, I told him I wanted to go home. He got all pissy but finally agreed to leave. The whole car ride home he was bitching about how I don’t let him have fun with his friends, and that I’m too demanding, and a bunch of other cruel shit.” Rafe stopped rubbing your eyes and brough the ice pack up to your eye while you continued your story, able to look at him now. Well, with one eye anyway. “But when we got back to his place, mind you I wasn’t there all day” you inhaled another breath trying to steady yourself and hold back the tears. “He saw that there wasn’t any food made and started flipping out even more. Continue talking about how I was useless, and I should be doing more for him. I spoke up and told him that I wasn’t even at his house and why would I make him dinner... that’s when he slapped me...” Rafe’s jaw clenched. “I knew that I couldn’t be there anymore, so I started getting my things together. As I started walking out the door, he grabbed my arm” Rafe looked down and took note of the bruise forming on your bicep. “And he said I could never leave him, so I.. I, uh, spit in his face, and that’s when he punched me. He looked shocked at himself for doing in, but he didn’t let me go. So, I ended up kneeing him in the balls.” You left out a low chuckle. “And now I’m here” you said with a weak smile.  
Rafe didn’t say anything, just looked at you. His gaze was so intense that you broke eye contact and the tears started to form again. Suddenly Rafe engulfed you in a big hug. He just held you, and you felt so safe, you brought your arms up and hugged him back. That’s when the tears broke free, and you started sobbing. He just held you. 
“You’re okay. Okay. No one is ever going to hurt you again, I promise.” You shook your head in his chest. After a few more minutes your tears finally stopped, and your breathing was back to normal. Rafe stepped back. 
"Now, how about that shower?”, he looked down at you, once again holding your cheeks, with a soft smile. You just nodded in agreement.  
“I’m going to grab you some clothes.” He exits the bathroom. You hop in the shower and cry for what feels like eternity, before getting out. You grabbed the towel and made your way into the bedroom. Rafe was standing there awkwardly holding some of his clothes. You smiled at yourself, he was giving you his clothes, which was mostly likely intentionally, because he had no issue grabbing Sarahs make-up remover wipes.  
“Uh sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay...um...here are some clothes” He hands you the pile, trying desperately not to check you out. This is not the time. “there’s also some Advil and water on the nightstand. You can sleep in my bed, I’ll be in the guest room, just let me know if you need anything.” He goes to turn.  
“Rafe...” He turns back. 
“Do you mind staying here? I don’t really want to be alone.”  
“Only if you’re comfortable with it.” You let out a soft chuckle. 
“Rafe I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t comfortable with it.” A smile breaks out on his face.  
“Sure y/n, I would love to stay here.” You go back into the bathroom to get dressed. When you come back, Rafe is sitting in bed with his shirt off, going through his phone. His head shoots up and he takes you in, smiling to himself as you get into his bed.  
“Thank you, Rafe, for today. Really.” You spoke quietly. He slid into the covers to face you.  
“y/n, I would do anything to keep you safe." You just smiled and looked down. He grabbed your chin, so you were looking in his eyes. 
“You don’t deserve this, and I promise you that you will never be hurt like this again. Ever. You are too incredible.” Rafe leaned in, and for a moment you thought he was going for your lips. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t dream about kissing Rafe but not like this. His lips meet your forehead.  
“Goodnight y/n.” 
“Goodnight Rafe.” He switched off the light. You both lay there in the darkness. You feel Rafe shoot closer to you but kept a few inches between your bodies. You meet him in the middle, and slowly he pulls you into his chest. You have never felt safety like this before. You knew Rafe could be a bit of a hot head, but never with you. You always had a crush on Rafe, but he was your friends' older brother, the kook king, the ladies' man, the guy you thought you could never have. Yet here you are, being held by him in his bed. You fell asleep to the sound of his breathing, and the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same for you.  
It was the best night of sleep you’ve ever had.  
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looming parenthood. ( gregory house x reader )
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gif belongs to me
The singular lamp lit his office when you entered while the minutes ticked by into the early hours of the morning. House looked up, his pinky finger against his lips as he reviewed the files, removing his glasses as he met your gaze.
It was difficult at times to know when to act as your boss, or your boyfriend during a case that was troubling you, especially now that you were pregnant. From your pacing, he deduced you needed both, and knew you needed assurance and comfort after a conflicting case.
"I didn't tell him." Your eyes burned from unshed tears as your body ran on caffeine, wearing a hole in the carpet of his office.
"In cases like this, it's difficult to know whether to listen to your head or your heart. Your brain said she's better off not knowing, and your heart is saying she needed to know. Following your heart is easy. Following your brain is tough." He removed his glasses as he spoke and you lowered your gaze to the ground, nodding softly.
House knew if he didn't act soon it would be one more sleepless night. "A case like this...it's hard to know what the right choice is." He began, "But you made the right one."
"Did I?" A tear fell down your cheek and he used the balls of his feet, pushing himself away from his desk.
"Come here." You crossed the room, settling on his lap and his arms brought you closer, your head resting on his shoulder as your tears fell. "A life filled with nightmares or a life filled with blissful ignorance. What would you prefer?"
"What's the context?" You spoke up a few moments later, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckled.
"You know what the context is." His lips pressed against your forehead and you closed your eyes as he lingered, seeking the comfort he offered.
Greg rested his cheek against your hair, as your tears fell silently on his shirt. There were many sides to Gregory House, but this was one side he reserved purely for your eyes only. And it only made you question your future further. "I'd make a horrible mother."
"Now, you're just babbling nonsense."
You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, "What chance would our child have?"
Silence filled the office as your tears fell and you wiped them on your lab coat, believing this was one fact he could not argue against, but his tone held absolution when he finally spoke, "They're the luckiest kid in the world and they don't even know it."
"They're not even ten weeks old and their mother would rearrange the stars if it made them happy." He added moments later, causing you to lift your head to meet his gaze. "You're already a mother. You have been for a long time now. A mother without a baby. You should spend less time worrying about being a mother and focusing more on the father."
You knew his doubts about fatherhood and saw the fear in his eyes when you broke the news one night in his apartment. But you knew he would be a great father. Even if he didn't believe it. He knew more about the harsh reality of the world you lived in than you did, and he was wiser, if more cynical, than anyone you knew, but you knew there was plenty of love left inside of him - all the proof shown from loving you when he swore off relationships that didn't involve prostitutes.
You placed a hand on his cheek, smiling softly when his eyes closed as your thumb swept across his cheekbone. Your lips met his and the noise outside the office drifted away. His hand rose to your neck, another bringing your waist closer to his body as the kiss deepened.
The future was uncertain. A case like this left you questioning everything you thought you knew and he was the only one who gave you the one thing you reminded him of when he believed he had forgotten it long ago - hope. As long as you were together, you always sought a brighter future, even when the scars of the past seemed like they happened yesterday.
And as you looked down at his hand that rested on your fourteen-week pregnancy bump, you knew that your child would be given everything you both craved and would never question the love or dedication of their parents. And a case like this reminded you of how lucky you were to have Gregory House by your side, to promise that the grass was greener on the other side - even if he was a well-known sceptic.
As his lips pressed against your forehead, you were certain of one thing. As long as you had him by your side, you could survive anything.
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lisbeth-kk · 3 months
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Sherlock fandom. Parentlock.
Not my colour
They’re both excited when Rosie announces that she’ll visit them in Sussex for the first time. She’s travelled the world with Doctors Without Borders for five years now, and it’s been easier to meet up in London, whenever she’s come back for a short period of time.
Rosie’s got two weeks off and will stay with them for at least three or four days she’d said. John’s fussing nervously, muttering under his breath, twitching his hands, making Sherlock tense up as well. 
“Why are you so nervous?” Sherlock growls in frustration, making a mess of his salt and peppery coloured curls.
“I’m not nervous!” John insists petulantly.
“Are too,” Sherlock murmurs.
“What was that?” John inquires, but Sherlock’s already headed for his beehives at the far end of the garden. 
“I heard you,” John states to the now empty kitchen. 
***
John’s heart flutters with excitement when he’s waiting for Rosie’s train to arrive. His left hand holds on to Sherlock’s for dear life. When Sherlock ghosts his lips over John’s temple, his heart skips a beat. Sherlock’s proximity still fills John with expectation, love and desire. He turns his face upwards and pecks Sherlock’s lips softly. The smile he receives is genuine and radiant, and John’s pulse slows a bit.
“I love you,” John whispers and lets his thumb stroke Sherlock’s knuckles. 
“I love you too, John,” Sherlock says and pulls John to his chest.
They both sigh contentedly lost in their own bubble of bliss. 
A familiar voice startles them.
“Daddy. Papa!”  
How they’re able to lock everything out like this, still baffles John.
***
After dinner, they seat themselves in the garden. Rosie wanders around admiring the flower beds, Sherlock’s beehives and the vegetable section. She joins them after a while and takes the bottle of beer John offers her. 
“So, how was Morocco?” Sherlock asks her. 
She narrows her eyes at him, and when he winks, she chuckles.
“Uncle Myc still looks out for me, then?” she inquires.
“Please, Rosebud, he’s more concerned about you than all the rest of us combined,” Sherlock says with his normal dramatic flair. 
“Don’t you dare tell him, or you’ll have no fathers to visit the next time you’re home,” John says mirthfully. 
“Oh, I’m sure uncle Greg can prevent that,” Rosie retorts. 
“Hardly,” Sherlock huffs. “Now, Morocco?”
“Before I tell you anything about my trip, do you remember the little pink houses Molly bought for my sixth birthday?”
Both men nod and smile at the memory. 
“You wanted to paint them,” John says. 
“I did! Pink never was my colour. Not then, not now. Blue and purple however…”
Rosie gets a dreamy look on her face and a smile form on her lips. 
“You visited Chefchaouen!” Sherlock exclaims and sits up straight, leaning forward, lest he miss a word. 
Rosie leans toward him and squeezes his hand before she continues her story from the blue city of Morocco.
“I fell in love with that place. Its beauty is beyond belief. All those shades of blue enthralled me, and quite a few of the houses had the same shape as my toy houses. I wandered the streets for hours. It was like walking inside a fairytale book. And that’s when I decided to come home. For good. All this travelling, being stuck in dangerous places…well, it’s taken its toll, and besides…”
“You’re in love, aren’t you?” John says softly. 
Sherlock looks at him with awe. How had he missed observing the changes in Rosie? He’s always had a blind spot when it came to the Watsons in his life. 
“Yes,” Rosie confirms with a broad grin. “Becca. She’s not particularly fond of pink either. Good match!”
“Ah,” Sherlock says thoughtfully. “I guess it’s not your childhood friend Rebecca Stuart, then.”
“Barbie-Becca, you mean? Definitely not!” Rosie says with emphasis. 
“She’s the biggest homophobe I’ve ever come across. Met her last year at Heathrow. Wanted to know if you two still were together.”
Rosie rolls her eyes dramatically.
“Do you know what she said when I told her you’ve moved here?”
Rosie clearly doesn’t expect an answer but stands up abruptly to get into character. John grabs Sherlock’s hand and looks expectantly at their daughter who’s determined to bestow them with a little performance. She clears her throat and when she speaks, her voice is higher pitched than normal, with a cockney accent. 
“I bet their cottage is painted pink! Who’s the man in the relationship? I bet it’s Sherlock. He’s the tall one, yeah? No wonder you chose to live abroad. I’d die if my father where to play for the other team.”
“I wish I could’ve shown you a photo of her expression when I told her I was gay,” Rosie says in her normal voice. “She’ll need therapy for the foreseeable future after this, I think. You never know if sexual orientation is contagious…”
“Just say the word, and I’ll have a talk with Mycr…”
“Out of the question!” both Watsons say in unison, happily unaware that Sherlock’s phone has been switched to recording mode…
@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @raina-at @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @sabsi221b
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puhpandas · 3 months
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Carbon Fiber Hilt
(3,551 words) warnings: mentions of death, mind control, spiraling, panic attacks, knives, blood, trauma. the usual kinda
Gregory, while over at Tony's house, is asked to cut the vegetables for dinner. He never really was able to get over the feeling of the hilt of a knife in his hand.
Gregory hasn't picked up a knife since that night. He hasnt had any reason to. Vanessa has also avoided being even near one like the plague.
He hadn't had a reason to for a long time. A year and a half, actually. Maybe just a bit less than that. Knives were scarce in a house full of people terrified of them, and they were never needed when Vanessa would find meals to make that distinctively did not require one to prepare.
But time has passed. A lot of it has. And Gregory should have known he wouldn't have been able hide from one forever.
Its not the first time Gregorys been to Tony's house. It's small and old, and it shows in the asymmetrical-ness and appearance, but it's not a dump. It's very well kept and lived in, and its evident; theres flowers in the front yard and a birdhouse and a little rainbow pinwheel. Theres windchimes that Gregory can always hear from inside on particularly windy days and the place is made almost entirely out of old wood. It's just old.
Gregory never understood why Tony is so embarrased to take him here. His Mom and Grandma are really nice. His Grandma has wisdom to share and a glint in her eye, and she has crows feet all across her eyes that show off how much she smiles. Tony's Mom isnt much different. She also smiles, but it's more optimism and less joy. Theres bags under her eyes that show how shes struggled but a shine in her eye that tells that she isnt unhappy. Gregory thinks he sees that in Vanessa a lot.
Its comfortable at Tony's house, in a way that Gregory's apartment he shares with Vanessa and Freddy isnt. He loves his home, but theres a distinctness between the landlord white paint and gray cabinets in his house and the rich, homey wood of Tonys.
Gregory feels comfortable there. He thinks that Tony's family catches onto the same thing one day where they ask him if he wants to help with dinner.
"Mom." Tony grits out incredulously after she asks the question, her head peeking through the arch leading to the kitchen. "Greg shouldn't have to do that, remember?"
"Its okay, Tony." Gregory smiles easily, and any contempt he'd felt on his behalf seems to melt away when Tony catches his eye. "I don't mind helping."
That's how he ends up in the kitchen, shoulder to shoulder with Tony (he tries not to be too hyper aware of that) and his Grandma, stood in front of the counter.
"Perfect timing." Tony's Grandma grins at Gregory. "I needed someone to cut the vegetables anyway."
She then gestures to the counter, and the implications don't click in Gregory's head until far too late. He turns to look at the counter, and there, by the cutting board, is a-- knife.
Its blade is a clean, silver-ish white, and the hilt a black with the telltale three dots in the handle.
Before, he could hear the simmering of meat and smell the delicious aroma of whatever food Tony's family is cooking up. As soon as he lays eyes on the blade, it all washes away.
He knows he goes rigid against Tony's shoulder. The fabric of his T-Shirt rubs uncomfortably against his arm, and flashes and memories of a brown fursuit enter his mind without permission.
It's almost comical, how much it looks like the one he had--
"Greg?" Tony's voice rips him out of it, and it's only now Gregory realizes he was spiraling. The sound of cooking food and the sight of the yellow countertops, and Tony's worried face enter his vision.
He sets a hand on his arm, and all Gregory can do is stare with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He's suddenly aware of the hammering in his heart, and that's the only thing that reminds him to breathe.
He breathes in slowly, not wanting to attract attention from Tony's family. Tony looks at him, and Gregory recognizes the concern in his eyes. It would be far from the first time Gregory has spiraled in front of Tony; hes done it unprompted countless times before. Tony is sometimes even a trigger himself.
Gregory catches Tony's gaze and Gregory can tell he's searching for what's wrong. Gregory shakes his head, trying to clear away the fog, and he returns the hand on Tony's arm, trying to smile. He doesnt know if it works or not.
"Its okay." He tells Tony. "I'm okay. I swear."
The entire time, he keeps his gaze carefully away from the knife still sitting untouched by the cutting board. Thankfully, Tony's family doesnt comment on how he hasnt started yet. Gregory exhales shakily when he can see the glint of the blade in the corner of his eye, but he stubbornly pushes it down, keeping his eyes on Tony.
"I-- I swear." He repeats, but it's way less certain than he wants it to be.
Thankfully, though, Tony let's it go. He just nods, turning to whatever it is his family asked him to do. Gregory doesnt look away immediately, and he can feel Tony glancing at him from the corner of his eye with worry. A watchful gaze.
He can see the silver shining in his peripherals. He knows it's there, and yet, despite how much he stubbornly hates how much it can send him shaking like a leaf, he cant force himself to look at it.
That's okay, he tells himself. Sometimes you arent ready to see things head on. Sometimes, when he and Tony sleepover at eachothers places, either of them can wake up from a nightmare and not be able to even see the other. Those nights, Gregory will just hold his hand to let him know hes there, and Tony will do the same for him.
That's what he needs to do. Touch is a way to dip your toe into the water, right? Gregory may not be ready to see a knife yet, but maybe he can still do what Tony's family wants him to without crumpling in on himself.
He can still feel Tony's intense look on him. He hasnt shifted his gaze away from the random spot on the counter this whole time. His shoulders shake, but he pushes past it, ignoring how he can only inch towards the handle instead of grabbing it. The simmering of the food on his left consumes his senses. It sounds like static.
His hand inches closer, and Gregory curses inwardly at how his hand trembles. It's just a knife. It's just a knife. Everybody can use a knife. It's just for the vegetables.
It's only because hes focused on his inner thoughts does his hand not retract away like it had been burned when it gets close. Hes unaware, blissfully for a moment, as his hand grows closer.
The handle of the knife (carbon fiber. he shouldn't know that.) only brushes against his fingertips.
It happens suddenly. In the split second his fingers touched the material, he felt the ridges in the material, the rough texture of the hilt. He felt electricity shoot up his arm so bad it hurt. He felt the way his shoulder jerked when his hand retreated so quickly you would think the knife bit at him. It might as well have.
The sudden movement of his arm drawing back and the burning touch of the knife's hilt makes him spiral. Hes all too aware of the burn in his shoulder blade and all he can think about is plunging the knife deep into something. Swinging with all his might with the intent to kill. The blade digging into something soft. Flesh.
His vision darkens around the edges. Somebody is talking to him-- Tony, he can recognize. He cant see him, because his eyes have gone dark. His arms are glued to his sides. The darkness creeps around the edge of his vision, like shadowy tendrils, and immediately, panic grips his insides.
Hes back. Hes taking back over. The shadow always meant he was being put under. No. No. He doesnt want to. He wants to go home he never wanted to do this. He never wanted to be so painfully aware of what it was like to live in shadows. In darkness. Underground where prying eyes could never see.
Gregory thinks there are hands touching his shoulders and his arms. His eyes are wide; he can feel the skin stretching. Hes aware of burning eyes enough with how much he tries to scrub the shadows away and this is no different.
His feet move, but he isnt aware of making them. The darkness is still here, and he doesnt know where hes going. Who's touching him. Hes back. hes back hes back hes back he has my body hes never going to let me out hes going to kill everyone--
All hes aware of is how it feels like hes back. He doesnt acknowledge a door closing, or how the floor transitions into hard wood to carpet, or how his breathing stutters and stalls like a car failing to start.
He's back there, and all he can feel is the hopelessness and incapability of being trapped. Locked away tight. Unable to fight back. Doubled down on because hes the favorite the favorite the wizards most favored apprentice--
"Greg?" Hands push at his shoulders, and Gregory feels the wall touch his back and his body slide down the wall. His shirt rides up his back, and all he can feel is the wet, sweaty fursuit riding on his skin. Rubbing it raw with plush and blistering when it gets sticky with blood. "Greg, can you hear me?"
He shakes his head, over and over, deliriously. He cant revel in the fact that he can control himself when he swears the voice is calling out to him. Can you hear me? You dont know me, but I know you. I can tell we're going to be great partners.
"Gregory, please--" The voice begs. Gregory pauses. The voice never begged. It only commanded. Directed. Instructed. "You cant breathe! You gotta listen to me. Hear my voice! Its Tony. Okay?"
The fog encompassing his mind (hes back hes back) lifts ever so slightly, enough for him to think. The fact that he can think at all propels him to push, and it's like it all comes rushing back. A kitchen. A knife. A house.
"You arent being controlled. He isnt back, okay? I know that's what you're thinking and its not true. Your brain is playing tricks on you again." The voice reaches him, and Gregory latches onto the familiarity of it, the tone and the richness but roughness of it making it through. "Trust me. Please."
Gregory never wanted to trust the voice. He never wanted to. He never did. But it had always been too late before.
He knows he would never want to trust the voice, but he finds that here, he does. He would never view the voice positively. The tightness in his chest and the darkness encompassing him ebb ever so slightly, and he peers through the cracks, like looking at the light at the end of a dark tunnel.
Tony he realizes. And with that comes the floodgates. Tony. Tony wouldnt be here if Gregory hadn't broke free last year. Gregory wouldn't be here if he hadn't broke free last Spring.
He pushes, and the black edging his vision let's up enough for him to see. He's in Tony's room, he can tell that much, and he can see that Tony himself is on his knees on the carpet in front of him, even through the fog, Gregory can see the panic and the worry on Tony's face.
"T--" His breath stutters. "Tony."
It's like seeing underwater, but Gregory can see the way Tony sags in relief at that. "Yeah, Greg. Its me." His voice reaches his ears, and Gregory revels in it. He revels that it reminds him of all those times he listened to Tony's voice to remind himself he's still here. That they both are. "You're at home, with me. Okay? You got freaked out over something but you're fine now. You can start coming back down to earth."
Despite himself, and the way his fingers still tingle and burn from where the handle of the knife burned him, he chuckles. "Says you."
Tony laughs as well, and Gregory feels the smile stretch on his face instinctively at the sound. It's like throwing him a rope, the beautiful sound, and he grabs ahold of it with both hands. "So you're probably feeling better now."
The final bits of blurriness ebb from his vision, and hes able to see clearly. He takes a moment, taking in Tony and the yellows and greens of his room and his green jacket and his blue eyes and his smile.
His body aches. His shoulders burn from how they're hunched, and Gregory's just able to stop himself from spiraling again at how familiar it is. How his muscles would scream when he would be in control, but he'd never stop. Never rest. Never stop swinging until the task was done. The inherit lack of feeling pain is one of the most blaring memories Gregory has that makes him so certain whatever had him was more inhuman than he could ever imagine.
He loosens his muscles, and Tony stays silent, just watching him with concerned eyes. Gregorys hand still burns; it feels like sparks flew when he'd touched the handle of the knife and now he has the burns to prove it. It twitches, and Gregory grips at Tony's carpet to try to scratch the feeling away. It doesnt work.
Tony notices. He always does. It doesnt help that it was with his left hand. Tony's eyes soften, wide and worried, and Gregory let's himself stare back as he catches his breath and tries to focus on anything that isnt the tingling in his fingertips.
He's only mostly aware when Tony shifts positions to his left side. He presses himself flush against Gregorys shoulder, like at the counter, but before Gregory can think about touching the knife again Tony is grabbing his left hand.
"I'm sorry." He says. "I should have said something about the knife. Or stopped you. This could have been avoided if I hadn't just watched--"
"No." Gregory cuts him off, voice raspy and breathless. "Its not your fault. I should have known it was a bad idea. Its just been so long that I..." He trails off. It really isnt Tony's fault, too. Gregory knows what it's like to just watch.
"Its been a year and a half, Greg." Tony points out. "I think... I think anybody would understand if you never wanted to even see a knife again after what happened to you."
Gregory nods, and despite how much he hates it, he finds himself agreeing. "I never wanted to." He says. He shuts his eyes tight and focuses on Tony's hand in his instead of the burning in his fingertips. "I didnt want to. I tried to fight back but it only made-- I only--"
Tony shushes him, squeezing his hand and pressing their shoulders closer. He uses his fingers to fidget with the tips of Gregory's, and it washes some of the prickling away to make room for Tony's warmth. "I know, Greg."
"He made me pick one." Gregory whispers, voice shaking. "I had to choose which one to kill them all with. The one in the kitchen looked just like the one I--"
"He's gone, Gregory." Tony reminds him. "You broke free."
Gregory shakes his head, his throat still feeling dry. "No." He whispers. "I never-- I never got freed. Not like how I helped Vanessa." That fear, that long suffering paralyzing uncertainty that keeps him second guessing if anything is real comes back full force, and his breath hitches. He eyes Tony's face, and their hands, trying to ground himself before he spirals. "What if--"
"He wont." Tony tells him, and theres a certain assertiveness that forces some part of Gregory to believe him. To turn away from the shadows dancing across the walls of his mind. "And if he does, we'll save you. We won't let him hurt you or anyone else."
Gregory revels in the reassurance, knowing that he's said the same thing to Vanessa multiple times. If Gregory has been able to believe it for her, maybe theres some hope for him as well. He breaths out a shaky puff of air, and he doesnt realize his eyes are unfocusing again until Tony squeezes his hand.
"I wont let him hurt you." Tony says, and theres some sort of edge to his voice that makes Gregory glance up at his face. Theres a shadow under his brow and a darkness to his eyes, but Gregory knows the anger is not directed at him. Not when Tony meets his eyes and they soften immediately. "You broke free for me all that time ago. Just so he wouldnt hurt me. I'll be there to ground you, or-- or to save you instead of the other way around."
Despite himself, Gregory's able to crack a smile at that, small as it is. He glances down at their hands, and feels the pressure. It's not cold like the handle of a knife, nor uncomfortably hot hot hot from the sweltering insides of the suit he had been trapped in. His hands do not twitch under plush and fabric; they curl around Tony's fingers, and the pressure is comforting. Welcome.
"My knight in shining armor." Gregory says quietly. Its something Vanessa would joke about when they'd talk about it and the games would be brought up. A little knight and the lost princess.
Gregory doesnt think apprentices have knights. Maybe that's what he had intended all along. No chance of getting out. No chavelry in silver armor to ride up and save you. Just the apprentice and the wizard.
Tony's fingers twitch themselves, and they shift to squeeze tighter around Gregory's own, entertwining like steel chainmail. My knight in shining armor he thinks. Maybe knights dont need a princess to be heroes.
Its warm; theres only the soft light of Tony's bedroom lamp on his desk with scattered notes and his own drawings carefully stacked around the edge, and Gregory can still hear the faint clattering of dishware across the house. The sky outside the window is a deep blue, and theres no purple to be found.
Tony's hand sends prickles up Gregorys own, but it's not like the rubbing of skin against plush fabric. It's not unwelcome. It's like fireworks dancing across his skin, electricity buzzing across his fingertips and his knuckles.
Gregory heaves out a final breath, and all the tightness in his chest leaves with it. Gregory can see how Tony smiles at him in-between the steadily dissipating darkness, and Gregory hangs onto it. It's a smile like one hes never seen before. Soft, crinkled at the eyes and filled with nothing but fondness.
Nothing like his smile. Nothing like the frozen grin when Gregory'd do a job well done. The grin that'd stick onto his face even when Gregory refused to--
"I think I'm ready to go back now." Gregory says, his voice clear now and unmuddled to his ears. It's only now that he realizes that he's still leaning against Tony against the door of his room, and their hands are still entertwined. His fingers are tingling, and it's only now that they twitch, but for a completely different reason. The shoulder that's pressed up against Tony's is warm and Gregory is painfully aware of it.
Not in a bad way. Gregory knows what it's like to be warm in a bad way. This is comforting in the way only Tony is. Even Vanessa and Freddy feel different than this.
Tony hums next to him, and doesnt move to get up at all. "My Mom will come get us when dinners done." He says, and his hand grips tighter and his shoulder presses closer. His neck twists to look over at him, and Gregory has to fight to not look away when he turns his face the same direction and they meet eyes.
Theres a brief, stuttering moment where they dont move at all. Dont breathe. But then Gregory is letting his forehead tip into Tony's shoulder and lie there.
"Okay." Is all he says. And that's it. Tony leans his head on Gregory's hair, and Gregory has to hide his smile at how he can hear Tony's heartbeat from the proximity and it's going a hundred miles an hour.
Gregory shuts his eyes at some point, and the darkness does not creep around the edges and pull him under. He's safe right now. Tony is here, and Tony would not be here if Gregory wasn't.
Tony squeezes his hand in between his chatting once, then twice, and any shadows that try to reach the window of his mind retreat. He's only aware of the smell of food wafting under the door, Tony's voice rambling on about something, and the warmth of Tony's hand in his.
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