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#if I do a part 2 it will either be the events from your POV or an extension where you go to prom?
captn-james · 2 years
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The Walkman - Eddie Munson
Eddie finds one of your favorite cassettes in your Walkman and can’t help but imagine the music is dedicated to him. Eddie’s friends are determined to make sure he does something about it.
Words: 4.3k   Tags: Eddie x fem!reader, jealous Eddie, meddling kids, fluff
Warnings: just explicit language
Note: Here is a shameless self-insert POV to heal the cracks in our hearts. This is an AU where everyone is SAFE and the Duffer Brothers aren’t inflicting sadistic pain on everyone. Eddie is a HUGE softie in this one but it’s what we deserve.
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Almost everyone that Eddie had ever met had expectations for him. Expectations for who he was, what he did, what he could accomplish. And, for the most part, he fit those expectations pretty well. A useless metalhead who spent more time focusing on “cultist” roleplaying games and drug dealing than trying to graduate high school. Truthfully, he did care about graduating, about making more friends, but it was always easier to play the part of the Freak than try and conform.
Sometimes, he wished he could be the guy that could pass a class without failing it first. He wished he could effortlessly make friends, even if he didn’t always get along with everyone. He wished he could walk down the hallway without being harassed by students younger than him. He wished he could admit that he wanted to pick up girls like Nancy Wheeler, or Chrissy Cunningham, not the older women who hit on him at the Hideout.
 He wanted, more than anything, to be Steve Harrington. Especially right now.
You had moved across the state to Hawkins several months ago with your father, moving in just a few doors down from the Harrington residence. Your father worked at the same company as Steve’s father, and you two had grown quite close. Steve had introduced you to his friend Robin and drove you both to school most mornings. He had also made it a habit to walk you to your locker and your first class before leaving for work. Eddie’s locker was across from yours in the wide hallway, meaning he got to witness your flustered reactions to Steve’s banter almost every day for the past semester. He hated it, but it was like a bad car crash – he simply couldn’t look away. Sometimes he wondered if he purposely sought out his own misery.
You stood with your head rested against the locker next to yours, looking at Steve who spoke to you with his hand holding onto your open locker door, where you had taped up an old picture of Paul McCartney with heart stickers.
It was stupid, really. Eddie had no chance with someone like you, least of all when Harrington was making you blush and look down at your feet regularly. Of course it was Paul McCartney. And of course it was Steve Harrington.
Eddie was infatuated with you, everything about you, from the minute he laid eyes on you. The way you always found a way to wear yellow and make it look good. The way your hair curled back like Farrah Fawcett’s. The way your eyes scrunched up and your head tilted back when you laughed. Your cherry-red nails and pink-tinted lips from your strawberry chapstick. He knew your taste in music was ridiculous: Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Chicago, The Beatles. But he knew he would listen to all of it, every second, for the rest of his life if it meant spending time with you. He was fairly certain he could talk you into listening to some of his music – Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, - but thoughts like that just led to more unrealistic daydreams, and certainly daydreams he didn’t need to be thinking about during school hours.
 Eddie watched as Steve leaned in and whispered something in your ear, tucking your feathered hair behind it softly. He was holding up a tape from your Walkman in his other hand, and your eyes went wide. You covered your mouth and giggled, and Eddie could have sworn that you glanced up at him for a fraction of a second. So quickly it was imperceptible. You playfully hit Steve on the arm and grabbed at the tape. He held it above your head and laughed at your feeble attempts to reach it until he eventually gave in and tossed it back to you. You quickly shoved the tape back into your Walkman and slid the headphones over your ears, flipping Steve off as he walked backwards towards the door, saying something neither you nor Eddie could fully make out, before turning and leaving. You rolled your eyes and began walking toward Eddie with a smile on your face, adjusting the headphones on top of your head. Eddie’s heart sped up and he held his breath softly until you turned and walked into a classroom. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
He could hardly focus during his first class, replaying that split second of eye contact that he wasn’t even confident was real. Was Steve making fun of him? Was Steve teasing you about him? Eddie thought of all the reasons he may have been part of that sickeningly sweet display this morning, all the ways he could have been mentioned. Most of the ones he could think of were not flattering or kind, but he had come to expect that from people like Steve.
Second period wasn’t any easier to focus. Why was your cassette important? Surely Steve wouldn’t be teasing you about your taste in music, would he? Eddie thought about what music it might be and why you snatched it from Steve’s hands so fast, looking around to make sure nobody had heard your interaction. Maybe that’s why you had looked at Eddie. Maybe it really had nothing to do with him, you were just making sure nobody was watching you and Steve. Classic Eddie, overthinking every interaction he had with you.
He would give anything to see what was in your Walkman, what you have been listening to all morning.
Today was Eddie’s lucky day.
As he walked into his third class of the day, the class from which you were just exiting, he noticed your Walkman sitting in the basket underneath the desk. It was unmistakably yours, with your name painted on the side in bright yellow letters. Normally, he would grab it and chase you down to give it to you. And he should, he really should, but his intrusive thoughts took over, and he found himself sitting in the seat, guarding the player with his life until the very end of class. He preoccupied his thoughts with what he thought would be in there, driving himself mad with thoughts of you listening to various different pop albums, dancing in your bedroom. What he wouldn’t give to see your bedroom, too.
Eddie cut off his thoughts and tried to focus on class, more for the distraction than anything. As soon as the bell rang, he slipped your Walkman into his bag before anyone could notice and made a beeline for the bathroom. He casually walked into an empty stall, locking the door behind him and dropping his bag to the floor. He took your Walkman out from the bag and pulled out the cassette, his heart racing.
Classics of the 50’s, of course. He wasn’t surprised in the least. He let out a small chuckle.
“The Teen Queens?” Eddie whispered. “This looks old as shit.” He rolled his eyes endearingly and popped the cassette back in, slipping the headphones over his ears.
The first track played, already a few seconds in.
Eddie my love, I love you so How I've waited for you you'll never know Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long
Eddie couldn’t help the full-body blush that washed over him or the stupid grin than took over his face. It was ridiculous. There was absolutely no way you were listening to an old do-wop love song because it had his name in it. That wasn’t possible. You had to be listening to any number of other songs on this cassette, which he could tell you loved judging by the scratches on the front. He thought back to your quick glance this morning, and Steve’s teasing. He shook the thoughts from his head.
Either way, whether it was for him or not, he found himself pressing rewind and listening to the song roar back to life. He closed his eyes softly and imagined what your prom dress might look like a month from now, how crazy he would look next to you slow dancing to this, with your arms around his neck, his hands on your waist. What corsage he would get you. He felt himself slightly swaying, getting into the music, before his thoughts drifted to you dancing with Steve, with Jason Carver, with anyone more suited to have the honor of dancing with you. He tried to ignore the pestering thoughts when the next song kicked in, “So All Alone”.
How appropriate.
He rewound the tape and cut it off with a loud click. He heard the hallways come back to life with students headed to lunch. “Shit.” He said out loud. Now he had your cassette. Now he had to find some way to give it to you.
Eddie sat at the Hellfire table, turning a pretzel over and over between his two fingers. His head was tilted down as if he was contemplating the pretzel, but his eyes were looking up through his bangs towards where you sat next to Robin. He thought of your music still in his bag. He knew he should return it, but the longer he had it, the weirder it would be that he had kept it this long. The more people would probably think he planned on stealing it for good. He resolved to return it to you at the end of the day and mention that he had trouble finding you, that he didn’t have time, that he forgot he had it – any obvious lie to get him off the hook for listening to your tape without asking. For daydreaming while listening to your tape. In the empty bathroom. Without asking. He was a creep and there was no excuse, really, but he couldn’t help the stupid grin on his face when he thought about the song, about you listening to any song with his name associated with love. He thought about you calling him “my love”.
“Eddie? You home?” Dustin waved his hand in front of Eddie’s face, and it took Eddie a split second to break himself from his thoughts, the tips of his ears a deep red under his mop of hair. He realized he had been completely ignoring everything said to him throughout most of lunch, staring at you across the lunchroom with a dopey grin. Shit. He was definitely a creep.
Dustin followed Eddie’s line of sight over to your table and then looked back to Eddie with a furrowed brow.
“Y/N and Robin?” Dustin questioned quietly, but not quietly enough. Eddie’s eyes went comically wide and he snapped his head down to his lunch in front of him.
“Shut up you goblin.” Eddie scolded Dustin under his breath. The rest of the guys at the Hellfire table looked over, quite obviously, towards you and Robin.
“Don’t look you idiots!” Eddie turned to look at Jeff as if they were in conversation when you looked up.
“Isn’t she with Harrington?” Jeff pipes up after a moment, and Eddie’s foot finds his leg under the table, giving a swift kick.
“I just… I found her Walkman today in class and I haven’t had time to return it to her. I was just waiting for the right time.” Eddie admitted, looking at his friends, who clearly didn’t believe that was the only reason he was staring at you.
“Well, hey, if you need, I can just give it to her when Steve picks us up after school.” Dustin offered casually, but Eddie didn’t miss the glint in his eye. Eddie’s immediate reaction was to tell him absolutely not, that he wanted to give it to you. But he could tell Dustin was waiting for that response. Besides, the more he made a big deal about the cassette, the more Dustin would be curious and figure out Eddie’s internal crisis. So Eddie took a deep breath, plastered on his best indifferent face, and said “yeah okay, sure. Thanks man.” And went back to his pretzels. Dustin’s face fell slightly.
The second the last bell rang, Eddie nervously walked over to his locker. He knew Dustin would be there shortly to pick up your Walkman. Eddie didn’t want to give it up. He wanted to steal the cassette for himself and listen to it every day, pretending that you listened to it just for him. Out of all the girls he’d ever met at Hawkins High, or anywhere, really, you were the only one that had completely disrupted his life. You were the only one who could get him to buy strawberry chapstick, or consider that yellow might be his new favorite color. You were the only one who could get him to listen to anything without heavy metal guitair.
“Hey, Eddie.” Dustin called out as he approached Eddie’s locker. “Got Y/N’s Walkman?”
“Yeah, here.” Eddie said in a hushed tone. “Uh, Henderson, I’ve got a question.” Eddie continued. He hadn’t meant to say anything, but his intrusive thoughts were winning again, and he couldn’t handle not knowing the truth.
“Sure?” Dustin replied somewhat skeptically, looking up at Eddie with an eyebrow raised.
“Y/N and Harrington… Are they….” Eddie trailed off, giving a look to Dustin that read ‘you know what I mean’.
“Are they dating?” Dustin asked quietly, and Eddie could only manage a small nod. He kept his face as neutral as he could, but his heart was pounding in his chest. He could not believe he just asked that. He had much more confidence than he had any right to have.
“No.” Dustin said, and Eddie relaxed. “Not yet.” Eddie tensed again.
“You fuckin’ serious, Henderson?” Eddie whined, and Dustin laughed, taking the Walkman from Eddie. Eddie huffed and opened his locker, avoiding Dustin’s gaze. He tried to calm his breathing, hoping and praying that if he kept his cool, Dustin wouldn’t investigate further. It was an innocent question.
“I was just curious. It seemed like they were. And, well, you know Harrington.” Eddie mumbled in his defense, and Dustin rolled his eyes.
Dustin looked at Eddie unintentionally eyeing the Walkman he now held, with a look of desperation.
“You sure you just don’t want to give it to her?” Dustin asked, and Eddie furiously shook his head
“No, no. It’s better that you do it. She’ll probably think I stole it or something. Or did something weird to it.” Eddie reasoned.
“Well, did you?” Dustin asked, and Eddie blanched. He didn’t technically steal anything, and he didn’t technically do anything weird to the player. Right?
“Uh- N- No. Of course not. She just left it behind in class. She’s probably been looking for it all day.”
Dustin smiled, watching Eddie stare at nothing in his locker for a humorously long amount of time. Dustin silently popped the cassette out of the player, wondering what you had been listening to, and if this was somehow contributing to Eddie’s odd behavior. Sure, he always seemed like he had the hots for you, but today he was extra spacey and obvious.
“The Teen Queens?” Dustin asked out loud, and Eddie’s head immediately snapped over to look down at him. He grabbed for the tape but Dustin stepped out of the way.
“Eddie my love?” Dustin asked incredulously. “Holy shit! Steve was right!” Dustin laughed, and then looked up at Eddie, almost apologetically. Eddie froze completely in his desperation to snatch the tape out of Dustin’s grasp.
“Steve was right? About?” Eddie asked after a moment of silence. Dustin smiled but looked somewhat guilty, like he had said something he wasn’t supposed to.
“I’m so dead.” Dustin muttered as he tore out of the school towards Steve’s car.
“Henderson! Get your ass back here!” Eddie yelled as he ran after him, voice ringing through the hallway as their tennis shoes squeaked on the floor.
Running out to the parking lot, Eddie hot on his heels, Dustin slid the tape back into your Walkman and shoved it into Robin’s hands as he dove into Steve’s car, slamming and locking the door behind him. Eddie slowed down as he saw you approaching the car, and quickly smoothed out his hair, trying to act casual.
“Hey, look! Dustin found your Walkman.” Robin smiled, looking up at Eddie and holding your Walkman out towards you.
“Thank God! I was looking for it all day!” you sighed in relief.
“Important cassette in there. You better be careful.” Robin added, and your face turned a shade of red that Eddie had never seen before.
“You, uh, left it in class,” Eddie added, hoping to give himself some hero credit, but you just turned even redder. You sputtered out a thank you and climbed into Steve’s car, Robin following.
“Later Munson,” Steve called out as he pulled out of the parking lot, leaving Eddie standing there in disbelief. Was it true?
 Eddie, my love
I love you so
Eddie was supposed to be doing something, anything productive, but instead he sat hand sewing a new patch to his vest while listening to the cassette repeatedly. It had been two days since he had found your Walkman. He spent the better part of his Friday evening searching high and low for a copy of the cassette, which he eventually found at a place a little closer to the city. The domesticity of it all was truly sickening, even Eddie could agree, but his heart was in an endless pattern of fluttering and dropping, thinking about the rare possibility you actually liked him.
Eddie was torn from his thoughts by the piercing ring of the phone. He rushed over, desperately grasping it from the wall to answer, hoping for some reason that it would be you. He heard familiar giggling on the other end, and he rolled his eyes.
“What do you want, shit for brains?” Eddie grumbled, but he was still smiling.
“Who are you and what happened to the real Eddie Munson?” the voice said on the other end. “Is everything okay?” she was joking but sounded slightly concerned.
“Yes, Max, everything is fine. Why?” Eddie questioned, and then realized he had been playing the music out loud with the windows open. Very open.
“Because it sounds like some grandma music in there,” Max replied before Eddie could try to defend himself.
“Mind your business,” Eddie muttered and clicked off the cassette. “Better?”
“Thank God. Play something more metal,” Max said, and then hung up the phone. Eddie rolled his eyes and switched the tapes to one he thought would be appropriate enough for Max.
The following Monday, Eddie couldn’t seem to keep his stomach from flipping as he stood by his locker, watching you and Steve have your morning chat. He was telling you something very adamantly, and you were shaking your head repeatedly. He saw you take your Walkman out of your backpack and his heart skipped.
You continued your light argument with Steve and eventually walked away, leaving him standing alone at your locker. To Eddie’s disappointment, it didn’t seem like a very serious argument, more friendly. He looked back quickly at his locker as if he hadn’t just been outright staring at the pair of you, but he felt guilty, immediately.
“Edward, let’s talk.” Eddie heard a voice from behind him and he jumped.
“Jesus, Robin. Don’t sneak up on people like that!”
“Ask her out. Please.” Robin said, though it sounded more like a demand than a request.
“Who?” Eddie questioned, playing dumb.
“You know exactly who I am talking about,” Robin deadpanned, and Eddie scrunched up his nose.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Robin sounded exasperated, closing her eyes.
“There’s no way she’d want me.” Eddie didn’t mean for it to sound so pathetic, but it did. And he had no idea why he was admitting anything to Robin, who was barely a friend of his at all.
“How do you know?” She asked curiously. Eddie could tell she was trying her best to be supportive, but all he wanted was for her to disappear.
“She’s so… I don’t know… Bubbly? Happy? Cute? I mean, she listens to 50′s classics–“ Eddie abruptly cut himself off.
“You DID snoop!” Robin’s mouth opened wide, and she jabbed a finger out at Eddie.
“I may have seen the tape... So?” Eddie defended.
“And then you bought the exact same one? That doesn’t sound like your style of music, Ed.” Robin added, sounding like she was an attorney questioning a witness, and Eddie stared at her. “I mean, 15 times, that’s quite a lot for one song.” She tried to keep her composure but she let out a little chuckle. It took Eddie a moment to register.
“That little shit! I’m boarding up her fucking window tomorrow!” Eddie groaned. There was no actual malice behind it, but Robin could tell he was becoming extremely embarrassed. Eddie wished he could crawl in his locker.
“Look, I’m not trying to torture you here. All I’m saying is, whatever you’re thinking about the song, you’re correct. And Steve is nowhere in the picture, at all. There are certain people at this school who don’t hate Eddie Munson, maybe even like him a little.” She shrugged and stared at Eddie, waiting for a response. She made no indication that she planned on leaving until he responded.
“Goddamnit. Okay!” Eddie said after a few uncomfortable moments of Robin’s eyes on him.
“Good,” she smiled and walked past Eddie into the classroom.
“Thanks, I guess,” Eddie muttered, though Robin didn’t hear him.
 Eddie was going to wait until the end of the day, but he couldn’t stop the pounding of his heart, especially with Robin looking at him expectantly every time she saw him. He never realized how many times in a day he truly ran into Robin until now. He waited until he saw you stand up and clear your spot, exiting the lunchroom, before he made a move.
“Shit. Shit shit shit,” he muttered under his breath, standing up to follow you. When he stood up, Dustin gave him a questioning smile. Eddie sighed and nodded his head. Dustin turned to look at Mike, and Max a few tables away, who perked up and gave a thumbs up to Eddie. He needed friends his own age.
Eddie walked somewhat quickly out of the lunchroom and to the hallway, heading towards your locker. You stood there looking at something in a textbook, chewing a pencil in between your soft lips. Eddie’s breath stopped short.
“Uh, Y/N.” Eddie started, still standing several feet away from you. You turned around and gave him a warm smile.
“Yeah? What’s up?” you asked, shutting the textbook and setting it back in your locker.
“You left your Walkman yesterday in Mr. Hill’s class,” Eddie stated, walking closer.
“I’m aware,” you laughed, finding his awkwardness endearing.
“Oh, I know, uh, I was just saying that, uh, I’m sorry. I should have given it to you sooner, but I maybe took a peek inside to see what you were listening to. That wasn’t cool of me, I should have grabbed it and chased you down or something.” Eddie admitted, and your face turned white.
“You… saw my cassette?” you asked weakly, and Eddie nodded, smiling. He had a small burst of hope that Robin wasn’t completely lying to him.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s no Metallica, but it wasn’t bad,” Eddie shrugged. Your eyes went wide.
“You listened to it?” Your hands went up to cover the redness and heat of your cheeks.
“Well of course I did. I kind of like you, and I wanted to see what you listened to.” Eddie looked at something behind your head, because he knew if he looked at your flushed face and gaping mouth he would be too far gone to continue asking you out. After a brief moment of silence, he continued, feeling a surge of bravery.
“I don’t know if it’s too early or too late to ask this, I mean I’ve never really done it, I’ve never even actually gone but-“ Eddie began, then cut himself off to take a breath. “Would you want to go to Prom with me next month?”
Eddie had only meant to ask you for a dinner date, something small, but again, his thoughts won over. You sucked in a squeaky breath.
“Yes. I would love to.” A huge smile broke across your face, and Eddie almost couldn’t believe it. But, of course, he was willing to push his luck a little.
“And maybe, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, would you want to hang out sometime before then? Like this weekend?” He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling hopefully.
“Hell yeah-“ you blurted out and your hand slapped over your mouth. “I mean, absolutely!” You and Eddie both laughed and you loosely wrapped an arm around him. He leaned down, his face suffocatingly close to yours, in the best kind of way.
Before either of you knew it, your lips were connected softly. Eddie’s heart raced. If only you weren’t right in the middle of the school hallway. You smiled into the kiss.
A few seconds in, the bell rang. Eddie expected you to jump away from him, to shy away from receiving physical affection from the Freak, but you kept your arms around him and placed a chaste kiss to both his cheeks as the hallway flooded with students heading back to class.
And Robin was right, there were people at this school that didn’t hate Eddie Munson, maybe even loved him.
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kamaluhkhan · 7 months
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ours are the moments i play in the dark
pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader
summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.
warnings: ANGST (im so sorry in advance...); flashback is from conrad's POV and the rest is from reader's perspective; mentions of sex + losing virginities (nothing too detailed/graphic); reader has an ex who's referred to with gender neutral pronouns; reader and other characters drink alcohol (pomegranate margaritas ;) ); hints of alcoholism (reader's mother); jealous reader who's trying her best; pining conrad who's a bit of a jerk; reader and conrad fight A Lot (they will make up eventually i promise!!)
tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije, @drikawinchester, @maybankslover, @junnniiieee07, @elcpsstuff, @fangirl-kimora, @redbierd, @starkeylover
a/n: thank you so much for all the love on my conrad series so far! i love these characters and writing their stories, and it means so much that others are enjoying reading my work. there is one more part left and i promise it will be happier so stay tuned :)) i haven't watched the last two episodes of season 2, but i'm planning on writing a bit for that, too!! thank you x infinity ♡
part one | part two
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i lost a friend / like keys in a sofa / like a wallet in the backseat / like ice in the summer heat (finneas, "i lost a friend")
now — summer, age 18
“you know, you guys aren’t fooling anyone.”
“and what exactly do you mean by that, steven?” you challenge, taking another sip of your soda. 
it’s the fourth of july and susannah invited you over for her annual celebration. susannah always hosted fun parties, so you were more than happy to accept because it meant eating some good food, listening to an upbeat playlist, watching some fireworks, and just relaxing. essentially, susannah always delivered the best of summer, rolled into a carefully planned event. 
the sun was shining, and everyone was having a good time, including you — at least, until you saw conrad and nicole in the pool, engaging in some serious PDA. you immediately got out of the pool and went to sulk near the drink table, where you were happily alone until steven came over to join you.
“i’m just saying, man. you and con are definitely going out of your way to prove that you’re mad at each other,” steven explains. “but we all know how much you care about each other.”
steven is right about the first part: you and conrad had done your best to avoid each other since the incident at nicole’s party and its fallout. if you and jeremiah had planned to go surfing and he invited conrad, you would always back out at the last minute. if you were over at the fishers helping belly pick out an outfit for a date with cam, conrad would conveniently stay in his room. not to mention, any time the two of you did cross paths — which was rare, but jeremiah and belly were persistent in requesting that all five of you spend time together, like the old days, they would say — it resulted in meaningless, petty arguments. the two of you had always been competitive and very comfortable teasing each other, but the difference was that now, your interactions were no longer good-natured.
you thought steven, belly, and jeremiah hadn’t noticed, but you should have given them more credit. to anyone who knew you, it was pretty obvious that something was up between you and conrad, even if they didn’t know what exactly it was.
“there’s a thin line between love and hate. and right now you guys are that line.”
“thank you for your insight,” you say sarcastically. “be sure to include that in your college essay — i’m sure princeton would love to have you.”
steven rolls his eyes at you, just as nicole arrives at the drink table.
“hey guys,” she greets. she reaches over to grab two cans of peach iced tea before you stop her. 
“conrad’s allergic to peaches,” you say. “so you might wanna get him something else.”
nicole looks at you for a second before nodding and reaching for a can of sprite instead. 
“thanks,” she says as she walks away. 
once she’s gone, steven gives you a pointed look.
“what?” you scoff. 
steven just shakes his head. “love and hate,” he muses, leaving you to join his parents and shayla near the pool. 
you then decide to go inside briefly, where you find belly and jeremiah, pouring vodka into a blender.
“we’re making pomegranate margaritas!” belly exclaims, practically giddy. 
“well, you gotta use the good blender for that.” conrad seems to appear out of nowhere from behind you, instantly reaching for the aforementioned good blender and placing it on the counter.
you were already in a sour mood from seeing him with nicole earlier, but belly looks at you with hopeful eyes, and you remember what steven said earlier, so you mentally promise that you would play nice with conrad. you owe belly and the others that much after being absent for so long: a carefree summer, just like the ones you used to know. 
you imagine that jeremiah sent conrad a similar pleading look because, miraculously, you and conrad don’t argue with each other as you help mix pomegranate margaritas for everyone. you actually engage in playful banter and laugh at the other’s jokes. you even feel sorry for him when his father, who wasn’t supposed to be here, walks in. you can feel the good mood slipping, so you suggest heading to the beach for a change of scenery.
belly had invited cam and a few more girls who are doing the debutante thing with her, and with steven bringing shayla and conrad bringing nicole (which, you are totally fine with, of course, especially after a pomegranate margarita), you had a pretty solid party forming on the beach, away from the adults. 
of all people, belly suggests some drinking games. it’s all a blur of sand, laughter, and vodka spiked fruit juice. once you were all the perfect amount of tired and tipsy, the group settles down, and gigi suggests a different game.
“we should play truth or dare.”
“oh my gosh we should!” belly smiles, tapping your leg enthusiastically. “remember? we used to play it all the time!”
you smile back. “of course i do.” 
when you were kids, you, belly, steven, jeremiah, and conrad would play truth or dare any chance you got. it was never very serious, mostly goofy pranks and harmless questions. you had all grown up since then, and somewhere along the way, truth or dare had become less innocent than it used to be.
“y/n,” one of the debs — dara, if you remembered correctly — turns to you. it was the first time your name had been called, and in all honesty, you were perfectly happy just sitting back in the sun and sipping the rest of your drink. “truth or dare?” 
you choose truth, mostly to avoid having to get up from your very comfortable seat on the sand.
“are you a virgin?”
your mouth suddenly feels dry. you’re not ashamed of your answer, but it doesn’t help that you can see conrad glaring at you from the corner of your eye. you take another sip of your drink before answering. 
“um, not really.” 
“it’s yes or no question,” nicole says. 
“then my answer’s no,” you declare.
“what?” belly screeches. she sits up straighter to turn towards you, and in the process spills some pomegranate margarita on her dress. “i can’t believe you had sex and didn’t tell me? when? with who? what was it like?” her cheeks are slightly flushed. a sober belly would have likely asked you in private, or at the very least, not in front of people you barely knew. in that moment, you almost regret the pomegranate margaritas.
almost. because maybe it’s the silence and everyone’s expectant stares, or the adrenaline you feel from winning most of the drinking games, or the effects of the drinks themselves, but you convince yourself that it’s as good a time as any to tell the story. a sober you would have known to tread more carefully given the context; that would have been about three pomegranate margaritas ago, though. 
“it’s kind of a cliche story, honestly,” you start. “it happened last summer. it was raining that night, so we were hanging out in the back of my teammate’s van, just talking, and one thing led to another….we didn’t plan to do anything, but we got caught in the heat of the moment.” you choose your words carefully, deliberately avoiding eye contact with conrad.
“how was it though?” belly asks, leaning in closer.
you shrug. “a little awkward, i guess? neither of us had sex before then, and we were both figuring stuff out. like, he couldn’t open the condom wrapper because he was so flustered, so i had to help him. it was nice, though,” you admit. “when the rain cleared, we went out to stargaze and fell asleep on the beach.”
belly sighs. “so romantic.”
“you’re right about it being cliche,” steven laughs. he has an arm thrown around shayla, and uses the other to gesture towards conrad. “conrad, man, that sounds almost exactly like your first time.”
you feel your entire body heat up, and it's not because of the sun shining down on you. conrad’s gaze finally meets yours — for a split second only, but it’s enough for steven to notice. 
“holy shit! it all makes sense now!” steven exclaims, suddenly standing up.
jeremiah frowns, looking between you, conrad, and steven. “what makes sense?”
“i’ve been trying to figure out why y/n and conrad have been so weird around each other this summer, but it’s obvious now: they lost their virginities to each other. they had sex!”
nicole stiffens and narrows her eyes at conrad. “you told me you never hooked up with y/n.”
“well, that’s definitely not true.”
“belly,” you warn, looking over to conrad once more. his cheeks are turning red, and you imagine a storm brewing beneath his dark blue eyes. 
“i don’t know about last summer,” belly continues, completely oblivious to the tension building. “but i do know that they kissed at your party.”
“i knew it,” nicole scoffs, pushing away from conrad. “i knew it.” with one last poisonous glare towards conrad, she storms off.
conrad sends you an equally poisonous look before chasing after her. the party dissolves shortly after.
feeling defeated, you lie back in the sand, close your eyes, and let the sun shine down on you once more, taking deep breaths to slow down your heart rate.
call it karma or a cruel twist of fate or just a really shitty coincidence, but you’re finally the one left alone on the beach.
then — summer, age 17
conrad was more than a little surprised to see your name appear on his phone. it wasn't like you were completely off the grid — you texted, though infrequently, and followed each other on socials. he scrolled through his instagram feed and saw the occasional picture of you wearing a costume at a halloween party or sipping hot chocolate on a snowy day. photos that never quite fit the image he had of you in his mind: in cutoff denim shorts and a swimsuit and layers of sunscreen, with sand in your hair and popsicle stains on your lips.
“hey,” he answered after only three rings. 
"hey fisher, any friday night plans?"
he told you he was working on his college essay.
“homework on a friday night in the middle of summer,” you tsked. “i never realized how much of a nerd you are.”
conrad laughed. “i mean, that’s on you for just realizing that.”
 “fair enough,” you hummed, and conrad could practically hear your smile through the phone. “if you’re in the mood for something more fun, look out your window.”
conrad wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but you standing in the driveway of his summer house was pretty low on the list. you waved at him frantically, telling him to hurry up and open his window.
he was still in awe as you climbed through. conrad tried to memorize the image of you then and there, standing in front of him in his bedroom: wearing dolphin shorts and a light jacket, with chipped turquoise nail polish and a bright smile.
"you drove all the way here?" 
"well, they haven't cracked the science behind teleportation yet," you say playfully. "so i didn't have many options."
"i can't believe you're here," conrad smiled, and that’s when you finally hugged him. he held on tightly, afraid you would leave at any moment if he let go. you smelled the same, like chlorine and vanilla sugar.
once you broke away from the hug, you pointed towards something behind him, pinned to his bulletin board. conrad followed your gaze and felt his cheeks heat up.
“i missed you, too, connie,” you teased, eyes lingering on the newspaper clipping of your swim team making it to nationals thanks to your record time. 
“mom showed it to me,” he explained, the smile on your face making his heart beat out of his chest. “she’s so proud of her little mermaid.”
your smile fell, just a bit, but enough for conrad to notice a shift in your mood. you always did a good job at hiding the weight of the world on your shoulders, at least around the others. not so much around him.
you sighed and sat down on his bed. “you know, after that swim meet, my dad lectured me about not being fast enough,” you explained. “winning by only a millisecond apparently wasn’t enough to impress college scouts, at least according to him.”
“your dad’s a jerk,” conrad said instantly. he sat down next to you. “and an idiot, if he can’t see how amazing you are.”
“thanks, connie,” you whispered. it looked like you were going to say more; instead, you picked up his laptop. “wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you were working on your college essay. you really are a nerd.”
“shut up,” conrad laughed, nudging you with his shoulder and trying to grab the laptop from you.
you nudged him back. “it’s a compliment! schools go crazy for trust fund nerds.”
“yeah, yeah.” conrad waved you off. “so, you’re in cousins for the summer?”
all you did was smile softly and close the laptop, finally handing it back to him.
conrad’s heart burst with joy. because not only were you there — finally there, after all that time away — but you were staying. his mom would always muse about summers in cousins being magical, but conrad didn’t quite believe her until you were gone and he felt that magic fade away. 
“do you wanna go downstairs? belly’s watching it happened one night with my mom and laurel.”
“as much as i love susannah’s favourite movie,” you started, and conrad’s heart soared again at you remembering his mom’s favourite movie. “i thought maybe it could just be the two of us tonight? maybe we could go for a drive.”
that’s how the two of you ended up at mermaid grove — a secluded stretch of beach about an hour away from your houses. it was near the mall your mothers sometimes went to, and during one of those excursions when you were young, all the kids wandered off and found it. the only time you’d been there was during the day and with jeremiah, belly, steven, and your siblings, so it felt different then, at night with just the two of you.
it started raining on the drive over — which only took 45 minutes without traffic — so you were hanging out in the back of your van. the van actually belonged to one of your teammate’s cousin who was somewhat of a hippie, you said, which explained the smell of weed and bohemian decor — battery powered rainbow fairy lights, colourful pillows, an elaborately patterned tapestry. the space was definitely intimate, or maybe it felt that way because you and conrad were sitting as close as possible to each other, shoulders touching and one of your legs tangled with his. he was scrolling through the pictures on your phone of your last swim meet in california, where you'd gotten the chance to visit stanford, while you were peeling an orange. 
"you would love it there, connie,” you gushed. you dug your fingers into the orange peel, and the smell of citrus started to fill the air. “the beaches are beautiful and the waves are amazing. it’s like, always summer.” 
conrad sometimes felt like summer was the only season of the year that he was truly awake, truly living. everything else felt like a dream, one that he would always describe to you in mundane detail; conrad even kept a small journal throughout the year, writing things down that he needed to tell you once you reunited every june. but one journal had turned to two, almost three, and conrad was trying really hard to not resent you for that.
“anyways, i think i’m going to apply in the fall.”
conrad stopped scrolling through your phone, pausing at a picture you had taken of a lemon tree. “doesn’t your dad have princeton lined up?”
“you make it sound like he bought my way in, when it was actually hours and hours and hours of training to get that scholarship. on the national best swim team.” you mimicked your father’s patronising tone for that last part; conrad hadn’t seen him in years, and he could still recognize it. 
“you’re right, though. my dad would flip his shit. even if i got in with a scholarship, it’s so far away and i have the twins to look after, but a girl can dream, right?”
“i feel that,” conrad assured. you gave him a sad smile, knowing that his dad was as intense about football as yours was about swimming. the worst part was that you both loved your respective sports, until they became a burden. you both had other burdens to deal with, too, when it came to your families. 
“in an ideal world, the two of us wouldn’t have to worry about anything else. we’d live in a place by the beach, surf every day, and hang out in the sun while sipping ice-cold, fresh lemonade.” just like we used to, conrad added in his head.
“in an ideal world,” you agreed. “we’d also adopt four dogs, each named after one of the beatles. you can teach them how to play the guitar.”
conrad laughed. “if i couldn’t teach you, there is no way i can teach one dog, let alone four.”
“well, they wouldn’t get distracted by your dreamy blue eyes like i did.” you winked at conrad, and handed him the freshly peeled orange before he even had time to blush.
“take it,” he protested. “you drove all this way — you should eat something.”
you shook your head and placed the orange in his hand before you pulled out another fruit from your bag. “i picked some of these up on the way here — best peaches on the east coast.” you took a big bite. “remember the summer we found out that you had a mild peach allergy?” you asked, juice dripping down your chin. you wiped it with the sleeve of the varsity jacket you wore.
conrad laughed at the memory. belly and steven had brought back candy from their trip to toronto. conrad practically inhaled an entire bag of fuzzy peaches, and didn’t realize that they weren’t supposed to make your mouth itchy — the “fuzzy” part wasn’t literal. that felt like so long ago, but there you and conrad were, settling back into each other like no time had passed.
as the night grew darker, you and conrad shifted closer to each other. conrad ate orange slice after orange slice as you devoured your peach, all while looking through the photos on your phone. you’d occasionally interject with a short story or comment, and there were still raindrops falling on the roof, but for the most part, there was nothing but a comfortable silence between you. 
you moved to wrap the orange peel and peach pit in a napkin, just as conrad swiped onto a photo of someone kissing your cheek.
“who’s that?”
you leaned over to check. “oh. that’s sam.”
“are you dating?” conrad asked, trying to seem casual about it. just a friend asking another friend about their romantic situation. as a friend. 
“we were,” you explained, sitting back next to him. “they broke up with me a few months ago.”
conrad sighed in relief, which he hoped you didn’t notice. “sorry.”
you shrugged. “it’s fine. apparently i’m emotionally distant.”
that wasn’t much of a surprise to conrad. sam might have been an idiot for breaking up with you, but they were spot on with the emotionally distant part. out of all the time you’d known each other, conrad had only seen you cry once, maybe twice. you were usually the one wiping away tears and putting on a brave face, inadvertently, or maybe purposefully, hiding your own vulnerability. 
still, that wasn’t something conrad was about to stir up.
“what? you?” he joked instead.
“shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes, but the wry smile on your face gave you away. “how about you? broke any hearts this past year?”
conrad thought for a moment. there was aubrey, who his football teammate said had a major crush on him. they had been texting for a while now, and were on the edge of maybe becoming something. but then, there you were, stirring up feelings conrad had long buried — or, at least, tried to. if part of his head was always in summer, then part of his heart always belonged to you. 
“no.”
“got your heart broken?”
he thought back to a few weeks ago, when he ran into your mom at the grocery store, and she said you wouldn’t be coming to cousins again that summer. you hadn’t spoken at all to each other for a month or two before that.
“no,” he lied.
you hummed, and took your phone away from him. 
“wanna hear something trippy?” you asked suddenly. you always had a knack for changing the course of a conversation to where you wanted it to go.
“what?”
“well, since it takes a while for light from space to reach us, when we stargaze, we’re actually looking back in time. like, the star that’s closest to earth — other than the sun — is four light years away. or is it five?” you paused. “anyways, if the sky was clear and we could see that star, it would mean we’d actually be looking at that star from summer, five years ago.”
“very trippy,” conrad agreed. “it’s like a cosmic time machine.”
you hummed. “do you ever wonder what our past selves back then, at like 12 or 13, would think of us now? i think about those summers and how magical they felt.” 
magical. you turned to smile at him softly, and conrad couldn't help but agree.
“i always thought you’d be my first kiss,” you whispered. 
that threw conrad off guard, and it took him a few seconds to regain balance. the van suddenly felt too small and the lingering scent of fruit shared between you two, mixed with the familiar smell of chlorine and vanilla from how close you were sitting to him, became overwhelming. his heart was beating out of his chest — not because he didn’t feel the same way, but because he did.
conrad knew what his 13 year old self would think of him now: he’d be up in arms over his awkward pause, screaming to finally tell you how he felt then, and how those feelings hadn’t really left. how you made him feel safe, excited, confused and angry. how there was a space in his heart just for you, and it was painfully empty when you left, but now that you’re there again —
“sorry,” you said, cutting through the silence. you subtly shifted away from conrad. “i didn’t mean to make things weird.”
“you didn’t,” conrad answered instantly. he registered how you were now slightly hunched over and brought your knees to your chest, how you bit your lip and avoided eye contact — a few hints that you felt uncomfortable, deflated even at his lack of response. 
so, he moved closer to you and gently placed a hand on your knee. 
“you didn’t make things weird,” conrad assured once more. you were brave, he decided: for a lot of things you did, but right then for being so honest, so vulnerable. it inspired him to do the same. “i mean, this might make things weird, but i always thought you’d be my first…you know. at least, ever since i knew what sex even was.”
you finally turned towards him, your lips slightly parted. 
“yeah,” you breathed. “me too.”
conrad’s eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes. 
“do you still want to —”
“yes. i - i mean, no pressure, but if you still want to —”
“i do.”
you smiled then and conrad felt himself do the same. 
when you kissed for the first time, it was like rainclouds parted and the stars came out, shining bright in infinite darkness. the two of you became tangled up in each other: you sat in his lap, legs on either side of his waist, your chests pressed together and your fingers tangled in his hair, which drove him crazy. conrad let his hands explore your body, gently grazing the skin under your shirt. his lips tingled from the remnants of peach juice on yours, but he kept kissing you. 
it was awkward and exhilarating at the same time. you asked each other if what you were doing felt good and right and were slightly embarrassed if the answer was no, but still adjusted if needed. at one point, conrad was fumbling with the condom wrapper and you had to open it with your teeth; he jokingly pointed out how you used to do the same with packs of sour patch kids and you giggled before kissing him again.
the two of you lay down on the floor once you were done. your head rested on conrad’s chest and he had his arm around you, idly tracing shapes on your skin with his fingertips. he craned his neck down to look at you.
even in the dim lighting and after years apart, you looked the same. even if you’d never been that close before, at least not in the same way you had just been, you felt familiar. 
you tilted you head towards him and smiled. 
“what?” 
there was something about the way you looked at him that still made him blush, and conrad hoped that with the lack of bright light, you wouldn’t notice. 
“sounds like the rain stopped,” he said. “wanna go stargazing?”
it was slightly chilly, so you let conrad borrow your varsity jacket, even if it didn’t fit perfectly. the sky was clear and full of stars. you spent the rest of the night there together, on the beach. 
in the morning, conrad woke up before you. he watched as you took slow, deep breaths with your eyes still closed. you looked so peaceful — until the sound of your alarm prompted you to wake up.
“shit,” you exhaled, your eyes wide once you noticed the sun had risen. “what time is it?” 
you searched frantically for your phone, only to find it right next to you.
“shit,” you repeated once you checked the time. you stood up right away, sand kicking from underneath your feet. “this is bad.”
“what —”
conrad didn’t have time to even ask you what was wrong because you bolted to the van. he followed you.
“what’s wrong?”
you looked at conrad, brows furrowed. “i have to go. i don’t want to leave you, but i have to go.”
“it’s okay,” conrad reassured. he stepped closer to you and placed a hand on your cheek. “i’ll be here when you get back.”
“i’m…” you step away from him. “i’m not coming back.”
“what do you mean?” he tried to steady his voice, but a dangerous mix of hurt and anger threatened to wash over him. conrad’s heart dropped, knowing all too well what was likely coming next, but he hoped, wished, that it wouldn’t be like before.
“i’ve got a swim meet in boston,” you exhaled. “but i can drive you home on my way there.”
“you’ll come back to cousins after,” conrad declared, as if saying it out could change what would happen next. “you said you’d be here for the summer.” 
you shrugged, stumbling over your words. “technically, i didn’t say that. you just assumed and — ”
“and you wanted me to believe it, right?”
you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “just — let me drive you home, connie.”
the use of his childhood nickname — the one he secretly despised, except when it came from you — was what made him snap.
“i should have known,” he snarled. “god, i should have known. you don’t care about me, about us. swimming over everything, right?”
“that’s not true.” your eyes opened, but you still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “i do care, but you know the pressure i’m under —”
“fine. you want to talk about pressure?” conrad laughed, bitterly, all his frustration bleeding out and pooling at your feet. “my mom had cancer, and you couldn’t even be there for me. texts and phone calls only do so much when you’re watching the woman who raised you wither away to nothing.”
your eyes softened slightly, finally looking at him. you took a step forward, but conrad took another two back. 
“conrad —”
 “no. don’t,” he snapped, making you stop. “why did you even come here?”
“i was close by and…” you paused. “i guess i just needed to come back, even just for a bit.” 
"figures," conrad scoffed. “you only care when it’s convenient.” 
“that’s not true,” you repeated. 
conrad waited a second for you say something more, but you didn’t. 
“well, i’m really glad you got what you needed,” he mocked. “tell me, does nostalgia and sex help you swim faster? impress college scouts? make daddy proud of you?” 
you stiffened slightly. “don’t be an asshole.”
“no, no. congratulations!” he clapped to emphasize his point. “i’m so glad i could help you! guess you just needed a quick fuck before your big competition for some good luck. hope it works out in your favour.”
there was so much venom laced in his words, and he could tell you noticed. you looked at him like he was a stranger. 
“fuck you,” you finally said. your voice was shaking slightly and it looked like tears were forming in your eyes. “you can walk home, for all i care.” 
without another word, you got into the car and drove away. conrad watched your car become smaller in the distance as he stood alone at the beach, wearing your jacket and replaying every word he said.
now 
it’s hours after susannah’s fourth of july celebration. the adrenaline and alcohol from early wore off, and you’re sitting on your front porch, sipping tea from your favourite mug. you were hoping to relax, but the sight of conrad fisher storming up to you threatens that.
“where do you get off, saying what you did earlier?” 
even under the low light of the porch, you can see that his face is red with anger. he came here to argue, but you’re too tired to really care.
“well, shit, conrad,” you sigh. “don’t blame me. blame — blame truth or dare and pomegranate margaritas and steven for being so goddamn perceptive.” 
“you lied,” he accuses, crossing his arms. “you said you didn’t tell belly about us kissing at nicole’s party.”
“at least i didn’t lie to my girlfriend,” you point out, your voice dull from exhaustion. conrad is momentarily at a loss for words, furrowing his brow even further, so you decide to steer the conversation in another direction — away. “look, i just had to pick up my drunk mother from the bar, so i’m really not in the mood for this conversation.”
you move to leave, but conrad grabs your left wrist before you reach the door. the sudden action startles you, and you release the mug you were holding in your right hand. it falls to the ground, the break clean, and the rest of your tea spills onto the porch. you exhale sharply, turning back to face conrad.
“i don’t care,” he snaps. “you fucked up earlier today. you never should have mentioned that night. talking about it like it actually meant something to you.”
“you know what, conrad? maybe it’s hard for you to believe, but that night actually meant something to me.” you laugh bitterly, feeling more awake than before. “and, yeah, now i’ve spent so much time regretting it. because maybe i hoped that we’d start dating, but even if that didn’t happen, i never expected to lose my best friend.”
conrad rolls his eyes. “i don’t know how you can stand there and call me your best friend. best friends don’t leave each other —”
“fine, i did leave,” you interrupt. your voice is slightly raised, and you can’t help but feel a new rush of adrenaline flowing through your veins. the fact that conrad is standing in front of you, suggesting that you were the one to blame for the hostility between you — that made you frustrated, angry, even. 
“i had other shit going on,” you continue. “and maybe i didn’t handle the situation well at first — that’s on me, sure. but i wasn’t the one who ignored texts and sent calls straight to voicemails. i’m not the one who’s spending the summer avoiding everyone who knows them because they’re too scared of others finding out the truth. i don’t know who you are this summer, but i know the real you, conrad.”
“no, you don’t.”
by now, you’ve walked closer, standing only a few inches in front of him. if you reached out, you’d be able to brush the bangs away from his forehead, but you don’t. 
“i do know you,” you assert. “in fact, i hate how much i know you. i know that “yesterday” by the beatles is your favourite song, and the first one you learned on the guitar. i know that you’re crazy good at chess, but let jeremiah win sometimes when your dad is watching. i know that you love playing football, but hate that you’re expected to play it. i know that i hurt you last year, so you had to ignore me because that was easier than admitting how you really feel because — because you’re scared.” 
“you’re wrong.” conrad stares at you, his gaze heavy on yours. 
you shake your head. “i know that you didn’t tell anyone about what happened between us because it meant something to you. and that really scares you, too.” 
“you’re…you’re wrong.” conrad’s voice wavers a bit, his eyes soften ever so slightly, and you know you’ve struck a chord. 
“i’m not,” you say. “and, honestly? i’m so fucking tired of waiting for you to realize that. i don’t care anymore. whatever was between us during all those summers, it's obviously not here anymore."
“you’re wrong,” he’s like a broken record, stuck on the same lyric. 
"stop blaming me for fucking this up," you continue. "it's your mess, too, conrad. and i’m so fucking tired."
it’s late, and it’s dark, and you can’t bring yourself to stay here anymore. without saying anything else, you step over the broken porcelain of your favourite mug and into your house, leaving conrad alone on your poorly lit porch.
when the sun rises and you go outside in the morning, the pieces are gone. 
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wangxianficrecs · 3 months
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Rewind 2023 - Follower Recs
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WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2023
For our Rewind 2023, our dear followers were also able to submit Follower Recs of their favourite stories published in 2023 for you to enjoy! Thank you to everyone who shared their recs and make sure to give the authors some love!
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Lovely fic, the worldbuilding really got me hook, it is background but absolutely fascinating. -Anon
The Lines of your Soul
by athena_crikey
M, 24k, Wangxian & Nielan
Summary: At this point he just wants to get Lan Zhan horizontal so he can sleep off the drugs that are making him make little confused snuffling noises and ask questions like “How soft is purple?” and “Where did the moon go?” and “Why does Wei Ying smile all the time?” Lan Zhan under the influence is cute, and it makes Wei Wuxian genuinely angry because he cannot appreciate it. This is not something Lan Zhan chose, this is not even an accident, this is an intentional violation and none of the sounds or questions or wide-eyed glances Lan Zhan is giving him are his choice.
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Not an easy read, there is a lot of hurt there, but how lwj and wwx behaved in such an awful situation really got to me. -Anon
swallowing rocks, swallowing peach skins
by AvoOwO
M, 24k, Wangxian
Summary: There is an indescribable rage boiling within Lan Wangji's chest. Lan Wangji has often heard stories of unsuspecting travelers being taken from their camp within the night, held against their wills only to be somehow found weeks later, dead and in the most horrid of states. Stories are hard enough to read about. It is worse, he thinks, when it is Wei Ying he is here with, gagged and bound in the same way. They walk, and walk, and walk, and they do not stop.
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Lwj and wwx are just. such disasters. and I loved their jobs, especially lwj. it was a very enjoyable read. -Anon
To See You (Again)
by FrameofMind (@frameofmind6), Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle)
E, 84k, Wangxian
Part of Bottomji Big Bang 2023
Summary: A new job brings Wei Ying to London, and back into Lan Zhan's life. Many things have changed since their time in boarding school (Lan Zhan is out of the closet, arranges charcuterie boards, stocks a fine bar…), but their friendship slots right back into place like no time has passed. Wei Ying is a little perplexed by the fact that Lan Zhan apparently doesn't have any interest in dating anyone despite being an obvious catch—but hey, at least that means he doesn't have to fight anyone for Lan Zhan's time and attention. And besides, it's not like Wei Ying is in any big rush to find himself a girlfriend either. It’s all working out great!
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This story is a ton of fun and such a different and interesting concept. @danegen
Pairfire
by PaidSubscription
E, 65k, Wangxian
Part of Bottomji Big Bang 2023
Summary: Welcome, young cultivators, to the most important event of your lives: your Coming of Age Symposium. At dawn tomorrow, you will be assigned to your pairmate. You will then complete the following courses together. Week 1: Love Languages (core course) Week 2: Conflict Resolution (core course) Week 3: Guided Gender Selection (core course, ongoing) Week 4: Caring for Your Pairmate in Distress (elective) Week 5: Heat Week (elective) On your final day you will choose which permanent A/B/O gender is right for you. We will provide guidance as you try each of them in the coming weeks. Good luck. OR: WangXian are unexpectedly paired for a relationship course. Shenanigans, pining, gender feels and horniness ensues. With art by Beanie.
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This series was so much fun, especially watching Lan Wangji's lust for Wei Wuxian from Su She's POV. And I'm grateful the author included a second part so we can see all the bits we missed and how wangxian got together. Also lwj's competency kink for wwx's brilliance was gold. @gentil-minou
💙 The epic college romance between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan
by KizuKatana (@kizukatana)
E, WIP, Series, 57k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary part one: The (bitter) third party pov of the epic college romance between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, as told from the pettiest NPC to ever exist. - - - - - A new student transferred into the university in their second year, and Su She was gleeful to see how much Lan Zhan was irritated by him from the very first day that the student (Wei something) showed up late for class with a ratty hoodie pulled up over his head and proceeded to sleep through lecture. Finally, someone else would be the butt of everyone’s jokes as they watched Wei Ying constantly try and fail to get Lan Zhan’s attention. When midterm grades came out, Su She was expecting the guy to be humiliated. That was… not what happened. Worse still, Lan Zhan was now actually turning his head to look at the guy when he spoke. And... wait, was Lan Zhan… putting his hand on the guy’s ass?! No. Su She does not accept this.
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I love historical aus and Greaser!WWX with GoldenBoy!LWJ is one we know well, butI love this fic for all the heart it has and the way it covers setting-typical homophobia. Wangxian get a happy ending and then the epilogue at the end really just made me feel all kinds of feelings about being queer. @gentil-minou
Mad about the Boy
by TriviasFolly (@triviasfolly)
M, 62k, Wangxian
Summary: It's 1954, and Lan Zhan's life would be going well if it wasn't for the charming Wei Ying. Did he say charming? He meant annyoing. If it wasn't for that smile Lan Zhan could accept the future planned for him, the job as Cheif Surgeon who returned home to a demure wife who'd cook him dinner and asking him about his day. Instead, he finds himself dreaming about something more. So when Wei Ying offers him a deal, one that would get him out of Lan Zhan's life he took it. When the evening goes wrong, Lan Zhan expects his life to be over. Instead, he finds it's just the start of a new chapter.
~*~
The way this author made the story of the Scarlet Pumpenel fit in mdzs is, in my opinion, masterful. The arranged marriage is built on devastating misunderstanding after devastating misunderstanding, but the identity shenanigans are so fun! Other highlights include Jiang sect love and wangxian adopting not only A-Yuan but MXY as well. So much fun and an epic adventure! @gentil-minou
The Scarlet Lotus
by rainbowninja167 (@rainbowtitania)
M, 137k, Wangxian
Summary: In the years following the Sunshot Campaign, the mysterious, masked cultivator who’d defeated Wen Ruohan took on many identities: the Yiling Patriarch, leader of the Wen rebels, enemy of the Jin Sect, practitioner of wicked tricks. His true name was shrouded in mystery. He always wore a mask. He carried no sword; wore no clan colors or insignia. Clouds of resentful energy clung to him as he walked. But there was one thing that absolutely everyone agreed on: the Yiling Patriarch could not possibly be from the Jiang Sect. Or: a Scarlet Pimpernel-inspired fix-it featuring Wei Wuxian in disguise, Lan Wangji determined to bring the nefarious Yiling Patriarch to justice, and the hijinks that ensue when you accidentally marry your greatest enemy/love of your life.
~*~
Another fun and sexy fic built on misunderstandings but I love the tone of this one! There's a lot of heart in this fic along with some real world issues along with just lots of wwx love, which makes this fic something i reread again and again! @gentil-minou
With No Particular Affection
by Chrononautical (@chrononautintraining)
E, 92k, Wangxian
Summary: A prominent physicist and professor, Wei Ying has built a life for himself in Chicago. He's safe, he's happy, and he has plans for his future. Unfortunately, those plans are derailed the moment he finds out his brother is in trouble. To save the family business, it will have to be Wei Ying's life on the line. He has to marry his old high school crush, Lan Zhan.
~*~
wangxian exploring their sexuality while getting to act their age in cloud recesses is such a wonderful premise, and I love the way this fic lets them not being good at it. Also the little excerpts from the book throughout were such fun and always made me giggle! @gentil-minou
Fentao-laoshi's Guide to Cut-Sleeve Pleasures
by occultings (microcomets) (@microcomets)
E, 31k, Wangxian
Part of the good place server exchange 2023
Summary: Lan Wangji says, “I am also looking to . . . gain practical experience. It seemed mutually advantageous.” “Mutually advantageous,” Wei Wuxian echoes. “Wait. Do you mean I’d get to . . . ?” Lan Wangji stares at him. “Practice — on you?” Wei Wuxian finishes, his eyes round with disbelief. — During a shared summer studying in the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian diligently pursue an informed sexual education. What could possibly be the harm in some mutual learning?
~*~
the most heartbreaking, angsty, canon setting arranged marriage au i've read so far, in the best way. We get to see things from LWJ's pov and while his actions make sense, it's still so devastating as we watch WWX be affected by it all. The happy ending makes the hurt all the better too! @gentil-minou
💙 Concord
by Deastar (@youhideastar)
T, 41k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Lan Wangji hopes, somewhat frivolously, that his betrothed might find him an acceptable companion. Neither he nor Wei Wuxian are able to bear children, so there will be no need to share a marital bed; that should make it easier for the two of them to reach a natural, comfortable equilibrium. Two strings played in harmony: this is Lan Wangji’s quiet hope, as he arranges the Jingshi to accommodate a second inhabitant. Perhaps, he thinks, they might even become friends.
~*~
MothXian and WitchJi!!!!! The art for this au is always so lovely, and this fic fits it perfectly! The author has this gorgeous, dreamy prose that really enhances the setting and the sweetness of wangxian in this is so beautiful. @gentil-minou
light a lantern (and guide me home)
by xuanxuanwo (ostentatiouslyrealistic) (@xuanxuanwo)
T, 63k, Wangxian
Summary: At first, he thinks he’s caught a bird; it’s the size of one of his palms and wrapped fully in damp feathers. As he shuffles toward the beam of light that streams through the open window, he wonders how it managed to fly into his lantern, shut the door, and latch it against the wild gales of the wind. Then, he takes a closer look, thumbing across its feathers, and realizes that they’re not feathers at all. They’re leaves. Startled, Lan Zhan shifts as gently as possible and, using the tip of his finger, parts them to reveal a body, complete with tiny limbs and a small face, all of it wrapped in the dress made from peony petals. “Oh,” Lan Zhan breathes softly, heart clenching. “Oh, what are you?” -- A thunderstorm brings tea master and herbalist Lan Zhan a companion he never knew he needed. A tale of love, loss, and letting go.
~*~
Rockstar!WWX and Bookseller!LWJ and they are just the cutest. Notting Hill is a classic romcom and this fic fits the romcom vibe perfectly. @gentil-minou
When the Lights Come Up
by brooklinegirl
E, 50k, Wangxian
Summary: Lan Zhan's brother draws to a halt next to him, staring at the man on the other side of the counter. "Oh, it is you, isn't it?" The man, still propped against the counter on his elbow, gives Lan Huan a grin, then directs it at Lan Zhan again. "I don't know," he says. "Is it? Am I?" "You are." Lan Huan is hurrying around to the other side of the counter, a wide smile on his face, while Lan Zhan looks on, feeling more and more perplexed, like he's stepped into some alternate universe where absolutely nobody is making any sense at all. "Wei Wuxian! Lan Zhan, do you know who this is? It's Wei Wuxian!" Lan Huan is reaching for the man's hand, and he pushes himself lazily to standing, shaking Lan Huan's hand warmly. "In the flesh," he says. "You caught me." "My goodness." Lan Huan is staring at him like he's never seen a human being before in his life. "What on earth are you doing here, of all places?
~*~
magical wangxian who adopt mo xuanyu in a setting that's written so vividly, the whole place comes alive! it's part of a larger series but it can be read alone, but most importantly the characters are so patient and kind with such great moments between them all @gentil-minou
quiet, blooming hours
by Sanguis (@bel-ennui)
T, 13k, Wangxian
Summary: Fingers push through the earth, and a long lost boy takes the first gasping breath of his second life. The house of buried things has a new surprise for Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)
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sideeve · 9 months
Text
SELF CONTROL ⭑ MILES MORALES
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⭑ maybe love isn’t the only thing that can keep someone tied to you .
miles morales x f!reader
part 1 — part 2
⭑ miles’ pov , cheating , normal spider-man violence , the spot , miles attempting to win reader back , major spoilers for atsv , arguing
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miles’ pov
every thing was stressing him out. fighting with spot wasn’t helping either. while basically punching himself, he was trying to text his parents that he would be a little late.
“can we finish this later? i have a meeting with my parents!” miles yells, trying to web the villain to the wall.
“no! we cannot! i have to kill the thing that-wait! we’re not finished here!” spot attempts to wiggle out of the webs keeping him stuck.
“i’ll catch you later.”
with the spot “done”, miles finally had a moment to breathe. he got a message from you.
mrs. morales 💓 : miles. where r u? ur parents keep asking me and idk what to say😭
mr. morales 🕷️ : just tell them i’ll be there in a moment. had to pick up the cakes :)
he huffs.
everyone needed him at the exact same time. from juggling the responsibility as spider-man and being a boyfriend and son, school. he couldn’t do it all.
his hand slide down his face. “if only gwen were here right now. she’d know what to do.” he looks down at the boxes of cake in his hands before making his way to his apartment.
grounded. for two months. just because he couldn’t tell his parents that he’s spider-man. rage filled in his body. no one understood him. no one. but her.
fuck! he shouldn’t be thinking about her. he has a girlfriend! one that lives him to death too.
but him and gwen are just friends…right?
that thought leads him here. an inch of space left between him and gwen. he would make a mistake tonight that he would gravely regret.
“¡miles! ponte aquí ahora mismo.”
his mouth pulls him out of his trance he gasps out of shock. what the hell was he doing? why is he kissing someone else? where is his girlfriend? what is he going to do?
his eyes looked blown out. thoughts clouded his head, making him unresponsive. “i’m not going to call for you again.” the party fell silent, looking at miles in disbelief.
he didn’t even say a word to gwen nor his mom. he just ran as fast as he could (while also swinging) to you.
out of breath, he knocked on your door.
"hey babe. my mom wanted me to check on you. she said you left early." he lied. he just wanted to know if you knew what he did. "we're done. i can't be with a cheater."
fuck!
"baby. you don't understand-" "go!" you slammed the door in his face. he heard you sobbing behind the door. his heart broke.
what did he do?
he walked home like a kicked puppy. he lost the only one he loved. once he opened his house door, his parents stood in front of him, arms crossed and disappointed. "mama, i-" "no, go to your room. and make it 4 months."
he wasn't even upset, he understood why he was in this situation. he had hurt you. and there was no way to take it back.
cut to when miles meets miguel
"every spider person has lost someone close to them. that is what makes us who we are." miguel stands before miles, making him look small. the holograms of spidermen and women crouching over their loved one's dead bodies. then there was him. crouching over you.
"my canon event is my girlfriend dying?" "ex-girlfriend. and yes. i'm sorry miles. but this can't be changed." every ounce of rage when to his fists. "no! it can't be her! i gotta save her."
“miles. you know we can’t let you do that.” a disk slides under him, creating a force field around him.
“miguel! that’s enough!” the yelling from the spider society was overwhelming him. ontop of the fact that you are going to die.
in his arms.
518 notes · View notes
ukulelevillainwrites · 8 months
Text
who follows the rules anyway?
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8
pairing : anthony lockwood x fem reader
series content : enemies to friends to lovers, "i didn't know where else to go", angst and fluff, third person pov, she/her reader mc
summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met
word count : 3.5k
notes : this is my first fanfic ever, the set up is a little slow but bear with me, the series will be a compilation of all my favorite tropes and in general everything i love to read in l&c fanfics, it's heavily inspired by everything i've read so far so thanks to all the amazing writers out there <3, a lot more happens in the second part that i will upload right next to this one
---
She wasn’t entirely surprised when she heard that George Karim had gotten fired from Fittes. He did a great job on the few occasions she got to work with him, but he always seemed to take his research too far. She remembered warning him several times.
“Supervisors aren’t as open-minded as I am, you’re gonna get in trouble if you keep bringing up your theories about the Problem to every person you interact with!”
“But don’t you find it weird how research has come so far and yet the Problem keeps growing? The official story tells us that an unidentified event caused it but what if it’s still going on? Wouldn’t you want to know what that was so we could finally put an end to this?”
When he put it that way, y/n couldn’t help but agree with him.
“Sure, I guess but it doesn’t justify going up to the fourth floor when it’s clearly closed to agents still in training!”
“Keep your head in the sand if you want but I’ll get to the bottom of this, I know I’m getting closer already.” George said with a proud smile on his face.
She’d laughed. He was stubborn but she found it endearing.
He had bragged about his latest discoveries after a case the both of them had been working on. It wasn’t the first time. They got along well and took the habit of grabbing an early morning snack on their way back from work. He would mostly tell her about his most recent theory, either about the Problem or his latest obsession, which could take a few hours. But y/n didn’t mind, she thought he was good company and it helped her relax after a case. Though aside from those few moments they didn’t spend that much time together. Especially since y/n became part of Quill Kipps’ crew.
A month ago, she had gotten the good news coming back to work after a weekend visiting her parents in her hometown south of London. She was ecstatic, her roommate El too. Especially El actually. Because they had such a huge crush on him. y/n didn’t quite understand it, but she did admire his career. He had a remarkable reputation among other Fittes agents and being part of his team would certainly boost her career as well. She had her heart set on moving up to management and someday become a prominent figure of the Fittes organization. But to reach this goal she’d need to be as remarkable as Kipps, better even. She wanted him to notice her, to see how great her Touch was but most importantly how organized and responsible she could be under pressure. She needed him to think she could be a great leader and sought his attention on every occasion. Because of that she and George drifted apart, going from work friends to acquaintances that simply exchanged passing hellos at the archives or the Fittes headquarters. Before she even thought of reaching out to him, he was gone.
“Did you hear?” El had asked her as she walked into their shared room.
“Heard what?”
“That annoying guy finally got fired!”
“What George? He wasn’t annoying he was sweet!”
“You have weird tastes in friends.”
“Yes, I do.” She told them with a wink.
“But do you know what happened? Most supervisors were pissed and wanted to involve the cops!”
“What? Why?”
“Because he tried to break into an office! They caught him trying to pick the lock! How crazy is that?” El seemed to relish the drama of the situation as their face lit up with a smile that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.
“That is crazy but as much as I love to gossip, I really need to get some sleep.”
y/n got ready for bed and set her alarm for the following day. She had to do some research at the archives with her teammate. They would join Kipps later at the client’s house. It shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed to be a Type One but she really needed to impress him. She had to be the perfect agent: quick, focused and perfectly prepared. Even though she was always very professional she still needed some rest.
y/n was a heavy sleeper and had very vivid dreams. Ever since she was a child, she had some of her nights disturbed by complex dreams that felt so real she would wake up exhausted the next morning as if she hadn’t slept at all. It hadn’t happened in quite some time, but that night y/n wouldn’t get much rest. She found herself in the middle of the woods, barefoot, standing in a clearing. The ground was covered with an emerald green moss that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked around but couldn’t see much beside the shadows of the surrounding trees. A thick fog made it hard to see where she was. Disoriented and lost, she started walking towards the nearest tree but, a few steps in, her right foot sank in ice cold water. She realized she was in the middle of a pond, stuck and unable to reach the shore. A frog jumped into the water behind her and made her turn around. A girl was standing in front of her. Her auburn hair was slightly curled, and her bangs delicately framed her brown eyes. She was slightly smaller than she was, about the same age, her face showed no emotion at all.
“Find me.” She said in a neutral tone.
y/n furrowed her brow, not understanding what she meant. As she opened her mouth to ask her to explain the girl repeated
“Find me.”
Without moving she somehow floated above the pond and retreated into the woods. She mouthed the same words one last time before the fog engulfed her. y/n woke up with a jolt, disoriented and terribly thirsty. What was that about? she thought. She didn’t have time to ponder since she hadn’t heard her alarm and was already late to meet up with her colleague.
“I’m so sorry I’m late Bobby I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long…”
“It’s fine but hurry up. Kipps insisted on gathering as much information as possible.”
“Really? But everything indicates a Type One right?”
“The problem isn’t with the dead but with the living. Didn’t you pay attention to who our client is?”
“Mrs Overton? What about her?” Bobby had an exasperated look on his face and sighed heavily. So much for being the perfect agent today.
“Her husband owns Overton Watches and basically runs a luxury empire and she is on the board of the Sunrise Corporation. She and her husband are close friends with Penelope Fittes and we cannot screw up this case otherwise our team will probably end up at the bottom of her list next time she needs trustworthy agents.”
Oh, I’m not rested enough to deal with that.
“Okay then, let’s get to work.”
They spent the whole day at the agency’s archives. The Fittes database did help a lot to find more information about the Overtons’ house but overall, it was a pretty boring case. The house was old, dated back the 1800s, it belonged to Mrs Overton’s ancestors, one of them died because, well, they had to at some point, and felt like coming back. This great grandmother didn’t live any kind of extraordinary life and decided to haunt the place in the same unremarkable way. Y/n had trouble staying focused. The case was not fascinating, far from it. Her mind drifted and came back to her dream. In hindsight it wasn’t that disturbing. It was just her brain making stuff up. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she had felt when the girl had spoken to her. There was something magnetic about her voice and it had an intensity that didn’t match the lack of expression on her face. It bothered her. Why couldn’t she stop seeing her face?
Bobby got up to put back some newspapers and the sudden movement next to her brought her back to reality. Right, the Overton case. Everything indicated a Lurker, so y/n wasn’t too worried about tonight. She could still make up for today’s start. Plus, her talent would probably be the most useful. This unseemly case might serve her after all.
As she walked back to their table after putting a book back on its shelf, she accidently bumped into someone.
“Oh I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay don’t worry.”
“George? Hi! What are you doing here?”
“I came by to pick up the rest of my stuff…”
“Oh right… I’m so sorry about all this.”
“Don’t be I kinda deserved it anyway. Though I still think I was right.”
“About what?”
“Mrs. Dufour stealing sources. It’s pretty obvious she can’t afford to live the way she does on a supervisor’s salary, and she always looks like she’s plotting something. She reminds me of relic men. I never liked her.”
“Well to be fair you don’t like a lot of people… it looks like I missed your last hyperfixation… but it seems like a stretch and accusing her of something like that… Was it really worth getting into that much trouble?”
“I’m not chipper about it, but I’ll be fine. I already found something else, a friend I can still work with, maybe you know him. We live in-”
But y/n wasn’t listening. Bobby was calling her, telling her that they had to get moving to get to their client’s house before sundown.
“I really have to go George I’m sorry. But I’ll miss our walks filled with your crazy theories.” She said with a smile.
“If you want to come by for tea, we’d be happy to have you. 35 Portland Row, don’t forget!”
“Sure, I won’t! Good luck!”
“Thanks, you too.”
She hurried to catch up with her colleague. She really was going to miss him even though they weren’t that close she had grown used to seeing him around. But she couldn’t believe his theory about Mrs. Dufour. It sounded like he wanted to see evil everywhere and was looking for something to distract himself with. A made-up scenario that justified why he disliked her at the same time. Nothing more.
----
“Good evening, Madam, we are a leading team from Fittes. We were assigned to make your house safe again by Miss Fittes herself.”
Kipps always had a very humble way of introducing them to their clients. As proud as y/n was of being on his team, she didn’t feel entirely at ease with his elevated figures of speech.
“Yes, I was expecting you. Penelope told me she put one of her best teams on my case. I was very flattered.”
“Well, we do not want to appear overly confident, but we will be most efficient to take care of your problem. May we come in?” she asked.
“Of course, please. I suppose your supervisor will be here too?”
“Yes, Mrs. Dufour will be here shortly.” Kipps answered.
y/n abruptly turned around to look at him.
“Mrs. Dufour? What happened to Mr. Fowler?”
“He got called by DEPRAC to deal with some details on the last case we did. You know, the one where it only took you two minutes to find the source after Bobby and I spent a half hour looking for it. It was really impressive I was glad you were here.” He told her with a wink.
She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to being praised and certainly not by a prominent agent like Quill Kipps, even after a month of working together she still felt flustered. Maybe that last case made up for the horrible impression she gave him on her first week. And she was going to keep proving him how great she was.
The praise was so unexpected it made her forget who their supervisor was for a moment. What were the odds that on the same day George told her about his suspicions she had to work with this potential traitor? She could not let George’s wild theories cloud her judgement. She was here to do a job, a relatively easy one given their research, and she was going to make a wonderful impression on both Kipps and this high-profile client. She took the lead and went inside.
As they stepped into the house, they were greeted by a white marble entrance furnished with glass cases displaying various clocks and watches, certainly a history of the famous Overton watches and mechanisms. The sun was already setting, it hit a crystal chandelier which reflected golden light over the walls. The pieces shone behind their glass. Their client guided them through the hall into the kitchen were teacups and biscuits had been served. Mrs. Overton took a seat and the three agents followed. She seemed at ease with the situation even though the young adults she had in front of her were here to rid her of a ghost. She sat at the head of the table, perfectly in control as if this meeting was a business reunion like any other. She was in her late fifties; her hair was silver and styled in an elaborate hairstyle. She looked both serious and relaxed at the same time. She was aware of the risks but wasn’t worried about the situation, like she had total faith in the team in front of her.
“While we wait for Mrs. Dufour maybe you could tell us more about what has been troubling you?” asked Kipps.
“I believe the haunting began about three weeks ago. My husband started feeling uneasy when he got home, and I felt the same fear shortly after. We never saw or heard anything we just feel watched.”
“I’m sorry to hear that Madam.” y/n tried to comfort her.
“The research we did on your house indicates that it’s been built in the 1800’s and never left your family is that correct?” Bobby interrupted.
“Yes, I inherited it about 2 years ago, but we only moved in this year.”
“We believe the haunting might be caused by one of your ancestors, a certain Emily Abbott, could you tell us anything about her?”
“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her before…”
“So, you wouldn’t have any idea what her source might be?”
“You might have a late night ahead of you. When we moved in, we kept most of the furniture that were already in the house. For all I know any of these pieces could be the source.”
That wasn’t good news. Hopefully with her Touch y/n could save them some time. They could start at the bottom of the house and work their way up, going from room to room as she touches different objects hoping for some result. As she organized the night in her head the front door opened.
Mrs. Dufour immediately filled the room with her presence. Mostly because she spoke at length and didn’t let the team finish asking their questions. She thanked Mrs. Overton for waiting for her, ushered her out of the house and gave them her directions for the night. Not even Kipps could object. She wanted him to stay nearby while Bobby and y/n were to explore the house to see if they could pick up anything. She felt for Kipps, this seemed like a monumental waste of time for him. But they couldn’t do much about it, agents were supposed to follow their supervisor’s instructions, they were in charge after all.
They searched the house until midnight, making rounds, going up and down the floors, looking for potential sources or trying to pick up any kind of psychical activity but came back downstairs empty handed. How was she supposed to impress anyone with a case like this? y/n and Bobby went back to the kitchen to report the lack of activity to Mrs. Dufour. 
“We’ve searched the entire house three times but unfortunately none of the objects we picked up gave any sign of psychical activity, the visitor hasn’t shown up yet and Mrs. Overton couldn’t give us more information. I’m not really sure what more we could do for now.” Bobby looked defeated. Or bored. Probably the latter, it was an exceptionally boring case. y/n was growing tired at the lack of action. It made her mad that someone could hire one of the best teams in London to take care of such a benign problem just because they had money and connections while hundreds of homes were threatened by harmful Type Twos and couldn’t do anything about it.
“Do I really have to tell you two how to do your jobs? Keep looking and take this seriously. I hope you realize who our client is, I can’t allow any mistake tonight.” Her authoritarian tone made y/n see why George disliked her. Clearly, they must have gotten into a few arguments on several occasions. But she couldn’t understand what would make him think that she could steal sources. She seemed to take her job very seriously. Sure, she was a pain but that didn’t mean she was a criminal.
“I’ve got something here! Bobby, y/n join me in the hall.” Kipps called.
They drew their rapiers and walked slowly into the hall. Kipps was looking at a corner where shadow had gathered. There was a faint, almost indistinguishable human shape lurking there. But it didn’t move, and it didn’t seem to want anything more than just stand there.
“I’m going to keep an eye on it while you two look for the source.” Kipps told them without averting his eyes from the dark figure.
“But what more can we do we looked everywhere already.” Bobby said with a sigh.
“Well,” Kipps turned to her. “y/n, got any ideas?”
She didn’t answer. She hadn’t heard them as she was lost in thought. Mrs. Overton hadn’t mentioned anything about the display cases here. But she should have. There were marks on the walls behind them, and again on the marble floor. It was a clear sign that bigger and heavier furniture had been removed to make room for new ones. That change alone could have triggered the ghost. And since they were behind glass, they hadn’t tested any of the objects on display. Though they were all Overton Watches so, clearly, they didn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. Another dead end. She lingered in front of the central display, slowly losing hope. If such a ridiculously small case was too much for her, what was she even doing here? Sure, the two guys accompanying her weren’t inspired either, but she was disappointed in herself. She had dealt with dangerous situations without flinching, but a Lurker case was getting the best of her. That was embarrassing. She rested her hands on the case and looked down at the watches. There were four watches spread across a silk white sheet surrounding a bigger, more ancient clock. They didn’t seem that impressive. Why were people making such a big deal out of them? The clock on the other hand was more ornate and had required skilled craftmanship. The mechanism was apparent and intricate. It was still working which was most impressive. A golden crown rested delicately upon a mother-of-pearl dial, the needles moving steadily around. Right beneath the number 6 was engraved something almost unreadable. She squinted to see better. The initials EA were written in golden letters.
“I’ve found it! The source! It’s this clock right here!”
“Nice work y/n. Keep an eye on the ghost I’ll take care of the source.”
They switched position and she kept her eyes on the shadow as Kipps tried to get the clock out of the display.
“I can’t get to it, it’s locked. I’m gonna have to break the glass.”
“No! Don’t do that Mrs. Overton would be livid. Bobby go get Mrs. Dufour and Kipps don’t touch anything please.” She said with her back to them, her eyes still staring at the corner.
“Did you find the source? What is it?” Mrs. Dufour asked, suddenly in a hurry.
“We have reasons to believe this clock is the object causing Mrs. Overton trouble.”
“That’s really nice work Mr. Kipps congratulations.”
“I much appreciate your praise, but it has to go to y/n. She found the source. As we don’t have a key, I offered to break the glass, but y/n thinks it would upset our client.”
“Well thank you Miss y/n for using some common sense. We cannot break anything in this house.”
“We could drape a silver net over the case and come back in the morning to pick up the source.” She offered.
“I think it would be best. Thank you again for your prompt judgement here.”
“It was my pleasure.” She blushed. It was nice to have her efforts acknowledged, no matter how small. This supervisor might have been a stickler, but she recognized good work, it was enough to satisfy her. This case turned out pretty well after all.
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lc-fics · 1 year
Text
Mason Mount - Close (pt.1)
POV: You are Mason Mounts Stylist and things aren't as platonic as they seem.
Contains: Fluff/Angst/Mature Language (over 2 parts)
Music Choice: Nick Jonas & Tove Lo – Close 18+
AUTHOR'S NOTE; Another story from my Wattpad, please follow me on there for more content!
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"Stay still" I say with a chuckle as Mason starts fidgeting with his sleeves.
"Sorry" he laughs "I was just seeing if I have a lot of room" he starts shrugging his shoulders while I try and slip his belt into the last loop of his trousers.
I frown "A lot of room for what?" I laugh again.
"Dunno" he shrugs again before shimming his arms slightly "dancing maybe" he smirks as he starts moving his arms on either side of me, nudging me slightly as I try and do up his buckle, my eyes looking down, while he leans closer, trying to get me to look at him, the laughter falling out of my lips.
"Mase stop" I say between laughter as his belt is now clasped tightly so his body can now move.
"Don't you like my moves?" he asks with a pout on his lips, his arms now stilling as his hands drop down to my side, his fingers brushing against my hips as I press my hand again his chest.
"I never said that" I laugh "but its hard to try and dress you when you are constantly pratting about"
He grins "Okay sorry, I'll behave now" he winks at me as I roll my eyes, reaching up to the collar on the jacket I have just put on his muscular arms, pulling it forward slightly to straighten it as he jolts his body forward and backwards with my movements.
"Mason" I say sternly now as I raise an eyebrow at him, his grin is just so infectious though as I struggle to keep a straight face.
"What?" he smiles, his pearly white teeth on full display "we both know you don't like it when I behave" he said, his hands on my hips holding tighter, his face moving closer to mine as I take a deep breath, his honey brown eyes looking directly into mine as my lips part.
BUZZ "Mason are you ready to go?" calls out Jaz as she walks into the room, my hand moving from holding the collar of his jacket tightly, his hands dropping from my hips as we turn around to look at her.
"Oh sorry I didn't realise you had a fitting before" said Jaz as she locked eyes with me, a curious look on her face as she watched Mason lick his lips and my face flush a little bit.
"It's okay, we're done anyway" I smiled at her, turning away from Mason to gather up my bag and phone, leaving the other samples on the rail in his room.
I turn to look towards Mason "Make sure you hang that up for tomorrow and I will sort out getting all this" I gesture to the rail "picked up from your room later on so just leave that outfit on the end of it"
I smile at Jaz as I leave "have a lovely evening" I say as I walk past her, knowing they were planning on getting together as a family for dinner before our Christmas meal tomorrow on the final night in Qatar.
"You too" she smiles back to me as I reach the door, opening it up and stepping outside.
"Wait" Mason shouts as I get outside the door, rushing towards me in his outfit still "you didn't have to go" he said as he frowned at me "you could come out for dinner with us?" he asks, his eyes looking so deeply into mine.
"Its fine Mase, honestly" I said as I smiled, going to turn away from him as his hand reached for my arm as I looked into his eyes again "honestly its fine Mason" I reiterated my statement, shrugging off his arm and turning and walking away, just wanting to get to my room and be alone.
This wasn't the first time that me and Mason had had some kind of moment. I had been working with him as his stylist for a couple of years now, including helping out at events like this for the England team. I think the only reason I got the job to come out with the England Team to Qatar was because Mason pushed for me to be here.
We had always been close, we have always been friendly, but we had also at times managed to cross the line from being more than friends. Drunken nights had led to drunken kisses, the taste of alcohol coating both of are lips as we forgot about the issues that might present themselves by us doing this.
Lonely evenings had led to sharing text messages, normally explicit, telling each other what we would like to do with one another and what we were doing to ourselves. Things that you would say in the heat of the moment but not actually mean.
And on one occasion it had led to us waking up in bed next to each other, feeling the pleasurable ache all over my body from the night before. We knew at that moment we couldn't do it again; it would make things too complicated. I kind of put my foot down and told him we had to draw a line between us, we couldn't keep merging the lines and trying to act like everything was normal, when we both knew things wouldn't ever be 'normal' again.
While we had been away in Qatar we had been doing quite well at keeping things platonic. We didn't really have the time to push the boundaries or slip into our old ways and that was the right thing to do. However, it didn't get any easier. I would still find myself looking at him when he would come back from training, a vest top on, his tattoos on display, his hair a sweaty mess. It was making things really difficult.
But I was trying my hardest and moments like tonight didn't help. Feeling his so close to me, his hands on my body, his lips looking so kissable, it would have taken everything in me to not meet him in the middle and close the gap. Part of me was glad Jaz turned up but the other side of me couldn't help but feel embarrassed by her seeing us so close.
No-one knew about us, no-one that I knew of anyway. And the thought of his sister knowing that we had been intimate with one another in more than one way was terrifying. I already felt like a fraud in my role here, knowing I only really got asked to come to Qatar with the England team because of Mason, I didn't need anymore people questioning my professionalism. And I was sure if people knew we had fucked that they would definitely be questioning me. Its like nepotism at its finest.
I had tried to push the night out of my mind as much as possible, going into the next day with a fresh mind. I knew I would be seeing him tonight, we were going to the Christmas meal, the one which I had dressed him for yesterday, so I knew I had to try my hardest to not have things awkward between us.
As we were all stood in the large hotel suite, Declan, Luke, Jack, Phil and Mason were all getting dressed. I had made sure that they had their outfits on hangers in the side rooms of the suite, giving them the space to get ready.
"What dya think?" said Jack as he stepped out in his rather garish green shirt and white trousers that he had chosen out of all the nice options I had picked for him. He made it so easy to dress him, I would just walk into the shops and pick out options that were what a 12-year-old who won a million pounds would buy. But yet he still looked incredible in them all.
"You look great" I laughed back as my assistant Lucy smirked at him.
"Nah I look better" the northern twang to his voice was even richer tonight as Phil stepped out in a black t-shirt and some blue jeans.
"Mate I look peng" Jack said laughing towards Phil "you just look like normal"
Luke laughed as he stepped out into the room, a white button up shirt slightly open with a pair of black jeans "it's not a beauty contest boys" he remarked as I rolled my eyes, watching all three of them check themselves out in the large mirror we had fitted in the lounge of the suite.
"Yeah and if it was I'd win" said Dec as he walked out of his room, a white t-shirt, some jeans and a black denim jacket.
I left the boys arguing with one another as I walked towards Mason's room as he poked his head round the corner "help me" he said as I rolled my eyes again and entered. He was stood in just his boxers, his clothes still sat on the rail inside the black clothing bag while he watched me.
"The zips stuck" he remarked pointing to the bag as I let out a laugh.
"So, you've just been stood in here for ages like this?" I point at him as he nods "why didn't you shout me?"
"I wanted to try and do it myself!" he laughs as I reach to the top of the bag wiggling the zip back and forth before pulling it down slightly, I slip my finger inside of it, trying to pull away the lip of fabric that has obviously overlapped on the zip as I try to move it.
"Mase meet you down there" shouts Dec as he heads towards the hotel door.
"Alright" shouts Mason back as I hear the boys leave, then Lucy's footsteps heading towards the door, knocking on it.
"Come in" I shout as Mason widens his eyes at me, realising he's just in his boxers "What? We've all seen you like this before" I chuckle as she opens the door.
"Do you still need me, or can I go get ready?" she smiles at me, knowing she has a skin tight playsuit she wanted to try and squeeze into as well as the time it always took her to do her hair and makeup.
"You go lovey, we'll be fine" I smile back at her as she takes in the sight of Mason before closing the door and heading out of the hotel.
"Thank you" Mason said with a coy smile as I continue to try and pull the zip down.
"You don't need to thank me, it's my job" I laugh as I finally feel the zip give and I can pull it down "there we go" I smiled towards him as I reach inside to pull out his trousers passing them to him.
He pulls them up his legs, doing up the button and the belt, knowing he is in a rush now to get out of here. As he pulls on the t-shirt his eyes fix back on mine.
"I wanted to talk to you anyway" he mumbles out as I look at him, holding the jacket in my hands "about the other day, when Jaz turned up at my room" he started as I frowned, I wasn't sure what there was to be said.  He takes the jacket and shrugs it up his arms.
"I just don't know what it is between us" he admits as he looks towards my eyes, then my lips then back to my eyes "I know in the past we have like hooked up and that" he smirks ever so slightly "but like I don't want you to think that's all I want from you".
I interrupt at this point "I don't think that's what you want, don't worry Mase, we're friends its cool" I say with a smile as I turn to walk away from him, his hand reaching out to my wrist, pulling me to look towards him.
"But what if I don't want to just be friends with you anymore" his voice is barely a whisper "what if I want more than that" he lets out a pent up breath "I really care about you, like I really like you" he admits "I just wanted to know if you maybe felt the same" his eyes plead with mine "like maybe you could see us as more than just what we are"
I find myself frozen in shock; I cannot believe he's just said that. I would be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind on more than one occasion, but we couldn't be more than this, it just wouldn't work.
I stand in silence for I don't know how long but when I feel Mason's grip on my wrist let go my eyes trail up to his, his jaw looks tense as he takes my silence as a no.
"Its fine" he grips the jacket on his body and pulls it closer at the front "I get it" he scoffs, walking past me "forget I even asked" he said, as he walked towards the door, leaving me stood in the middle of the room still.
I couldn't find the words to say as I finally turned and started to walk towards out of the room and into the lounge, seeing him fix his hair in the big mirror, picking up his wallet, room key and phone before his eyes look towards mine again, I can see the hurt etched in them.
"You know what" he starts, the anger laced in his voice "I was actually that fucking stupid to believe you might actually care for me" he said as he turned, reaching for the door, opening it and leaving.
I still couldn't find the words to say, I couldn't make sense of all the emotions in my mind, but all I did know was I did care.
I do care about Mason; I just need to tell him that.
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kiwiana-writes · 4 months
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Fic Writing Review 2023
Tagged by my fellow stats nerd @stereopticons - thanks pal!
Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.
Words and Fics (fics written in 2023 only)
143,107 words published to ao3. At least 3,900 more guaranteed by the advent fic so... I think I should make a concentrated effort to break 150k, right? 👀
No good way of tracking unpublished words in WIPs written this year. My goal for 2024 is to set up my spreadsheet to track words written as well as published so watch this space.
3 published fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue (book), Schitt's Creek, The Last Of Us (TV show). Technically 1 unpublished fandom in Red White & Royal Blue (film) 😅
Most recent drop: Apart from the daily advent fic drops lilnked above, a PWP interlude in the hockey boyfriend Henry 'verse
Longest (published) fic: By a country fuckin' mile, With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest), aka the Much Ado actor AU, at 65,586 words.
Longest (published) oneshot: Kinda think that I might be his type (Alex and Bea fake date) at 12,864 words
Top Fics by Kudos (fics written in 2023 only)
With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) [RWRB, Alex/Henry, rated E, 65,586 words]
Kinda think that I might be his type [RWRB, Alex & Bea + Alex/Henry, rated E, 12,864 words]
We were supposed to find this [RWRB, Alex/Henry, rated M, 3,384 words]
Puck It [RWRB, Alex/Henry, rated E, 9,739 words]
Feel your hands in my hair and you whisper my name [RWRB, Alex/Henry, rated E, 2,508 words]
Miscellaneous Data From My Unhinged Spreadsheet about 2023 fics
To no one's surprise, highest percentage of private bookmarks goes to Bukkake Breaky Heart.
Out of 24 fics published in 2023, 14 were explicit, 2 were mature, 7 were teen and up, and 1 was general audiences
3 fics didn't have a title sourced from anywhere. 3 were sourced from literature/poetry, 3 were puns, and the remaining 15 were song lyrics, with 3 each from Taylor Swift and Matt Nathanson.
My highest kudos/hits ratio was on Empty your heart of its mortal dream, aka the Fae Prince Henry fic.
My fandom fic events in 2023
Nilch nada zip in terms of, like, fests. I wanted to do Threesgiving but the words wouldn't come, so a sort-of-threesome-sort-of-foursome will probably appear on some random day in fucking February or something lmao. However while they weren't fandom-specific events, I did do:
Kinktober 2023
Advent 2023
Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024
I have a lot -- a lot a lot a LOT -- of WIPs that will be completed in 2024, so please don't think of this as an exhaustive list, but they are the ones I'm most excited for:
A Practical Arrangement - @clottedcreamfudge has Devised A Punishment if I don't get chapter two out for y'all by Christmas because my usual methods of pushing past my brain bullshit weren't working, so technically this is a 2023 project 🤣 @ships-to-sail and @celeritas2997 have the carrot and CCF has the stick.
Anastasia AU!!! I LOVE this fic and I think it's in the 'meaty one-shot' range buuuuuut we'll see. It might get a little out of control.
Angstapalooza RWRB edition - this is gonna be another long fic, 10-11 chapters, 50k words ish, and I cannot WAIT to make y'all cry sink my teeth into it. My Schitt's Creeks babes know what happens when I deem something 'angstapalooza' lmao.
Hockey Boyfriend Henry part 3, aka the whole reason I started writing the fucking series in the first place lmao
Leverage AU, which I haven't shared anything of yet because it's a post-angstapalooza longfic but I am VERY HYPE FOR.
Rafael Is Surrounded By Disaster Queers, aka the Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead-style Rafael POV... 5+1? Vignettes? set in the Much Ado actor AU verse. Which at this point is just a gift for @inexplicablymine and @cricketnationrise and I wouldn't have it any other way.
STFAU 👀
*infomercial voice* And much, much more!
BUT, 2024 is also for taking original writing seriously. Maybe flash/microfiction on patreon, definitely diving into an original novel. I've thrown in the towel with my contracting agency in the new year and everything. Ack.
Tagging anyone I've tagged above and also @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @myheartalivewrites and anyone who wants to play because I love data.
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inevitably-johnlocked · 2 months
Note
Howdy! I love all your fanfic recs, and was wondering. Do you happen to have any recs in which either Sherlock or John accidentally get drugged, do the other has to take care of him?
Hi Nonny!!!
I do!!! Actually I have enough fics to publish an updated new list, so I hope these please you! They're not EXACTLY what you're looking for, but I hope you'll like them anyway!!!
Enjoy!!
DRUGS AND DRUGGING Pt 3
See also:
Self Harm, Danger Nights, and Drugs
Drugs and Drugging Pt 2
DRUGS / DRUGGING Pt 3
Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...
Upon This Throne by ifonlynotnever (T, 1,773 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Angst, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Introspection, Imagery, Pining Sherlock, Drug Use, Passage of Time) – Inside Sherlock's mind is a Palace. Inside the Palace are many rooms. Within the largest room is the Throne. Upon the Throne sits the King.
changing tides by simplyclockwork (M, 5,983 w., 1 Ch. || Substance Use, Drug Relapse, High Sherlock, Sherlock Falls Down Stairs / Injury, Caring John, Drugs, Oblivious John, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With Happy Ending, Acceptance, Pre-Relationship, Addiction, Starting Over, Self-Destructive Behaviour, Drugged Hallucinations, Forehead Touching, Sherlock POV) – If Sherlock were to stop to think about it, he might wonder if he’s simply lonely. He doesn’t stop to think about it.
Abhorring the Dull Routine of Existence by ardenteurophile (T, 7,963 w., 3 Ch. || Stimulants, Humour, Friendship) – Or, a Week Spent on Artificial Stimulants. Sherlock overdoses on Red Bull, much to John's dismay.
There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”
Rupert Street by WritingOutLoud (M, 27,262 w., 9 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Case Fic, Sexuality, Demisexual Sherlock, Drugging, Smart John, Sherlock Has Internalized Biphobia, Fluff, Angst with Happy Ending, Gay Bar, Flirting, John Manipulates Sherlock to Eat, John Deduces, Arguments, Kidnapping/Torture, Hospitalization, John Whump) – Discharged from the war with nothing but the clothes on his back and a realisation of his bisexuality, John Watson has to learn who he’s become. He can’t afford London on an army pension, but the city is the only friend he has. In an effort to understand his newfound queer identity, he heads to a bar one night, where he stumbles across a mysterious stranger who turns his life upside down. ‘I dug around inside myself, and I'm not quite sure what I found, but it was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.’
Domestic Matters by ohlooktheresabee (M, 29,404 w., 6 Ch. || Fantasy AU || First Meetings, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, BAMF Sherlock, BAMF John, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Supernatural Elements, Implied / Referenced Child Abuse, Elf Sherlock, Human/Elf Politics, Emotional Abuse, Possessive Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, Buddy Greg) – All flatmates need to work out domestic matters between them - who does the dishes, who takes out the rubbish, how often does the carpet need to be vacuumed - these are part and parcel of sharing a living space together. However, when you’re an elf and your flatmate is going to be a human you just met, this rather complicates things…Very loosely inspired by 'The Elves and The Shoemaker' by The Brothers Grimm.
Lucifer's Gardens by ampersand_ch (E, 32,679 w., 12 Ch. || Romance, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Murder, Poison / Drugging, Mystery, John Undercover, Academic Club, Therapy, Rituals, Jungian Archetypes, Doctors & Physicians, Grief/Mourning, Esotericism, Hospitals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, John Falls In Love With Another Man, Jealous Sherlock, Crying, Doctor John, Hand Holding, First Kiss/Time, Mysticism, Hugging, Touching) – John goes undercover for an investigation as a favour to Lestrade in a village in Suffolk. The events surrounding the case awaken deep-seated fears in Sherlock. While John begins to come to a realisation of what he needs in Lucifer's Gardens, Sherlock tries to find a way to reach John – in more ways than one. [TRANSLATION: GERMAN]
A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.
Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love,  Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.
Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity
Swallow the Night by ArwaMachine (E, 87,873 w., 15 Ch. || TSo3/Stag Night Fix It, TAB/S4 Divergence, Toplock, Mutual Pining, PWP, Drunk / Public Sex, Anal Fingering/Sex, Alcohol-Induced Amnesia, Everyone Knows Except Them, Emotional Love Confession, Demisexual Sherlock, Internalized Homophobia [John], Parentlock with Rosie, First Kiss, Drug Relapse, Infidelity, Texting, Masturbation, Oblivious John, Emotional Love Making, Angst with Happy Ending, Dreams and Nightmares) – “Do you know how long,” John panted, his cheek scraping against the wall, looking back at Sherlock through half-closed eyes, “I’ve wanted this?” Sherlock pressed himself against John’s back, biting at John’s ear. “Not nearly as long as I have,” he whispered.
Bakers with Benefits by Raina_at (E, 88,130 w., 14 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Strangers to Lovers, Switchlock, Friends with Benefits, Mentions of Alcoholism / Past Drug Use, Banter, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Past Sherlock/Victor, Mutual Pining, POV Sherlock, Obsessive Sherlock, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes has a successful YouTube baking channel, but what he really wants is his own bakery. When an old friend sends him a call for the very first Great British Bake Off, he seizes the opportunity to finally win a sponsor for his bakery. Here's the plan: Win Bake Off, get the bakery, don't fall in love with the handsome Army doctor at the neighbouring station. Easy.
Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest
Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 109,272 w., 60 Ch. || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Sherlock/OC and Johnlock, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, 3 Part Story, Slow Burn, Inexperienced Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock, Introspection, Alternating First and Third Person POV, Separation and Reconciliation, Emotional Love Making, Love Confessions via Letters, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being.  Part 1 of the Drawn to Stars series
The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by  ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic / Meta Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Demisexual Sherlock, Holmes Family, John Whump, Gay Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Drug Addiction, Parenting, TFP is a Nightmare, Virgin Sherlock, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Switchlock, John’s Past, Sherlock’s Past, Eurus, Love Confessions) –Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.
Fallen Series by Belladonna_Q, mamishka (T, 222,094 w. across 3 works || Winglock || Angel!John, Angels & Demons, Faes, Christianity, Changelings) – In a world where myth, mystery, and the supernatural flourish beneath the veneer of modern civilization, Sherlock is a master of magic as well as science and deduction. But there are some things that he cannot see, riddles he cannot unravel, even when they walk right beside him in the form of one John Watson…
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melloween-candie · 1 year
Text
Teenage pregnancy [C.G]
A Carl Gallagher x Fem Reader fic
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Summary
You only started dating Carl for about 2 months. That was right around the time when he and Dom broke up. Deep down, you knew you couldn't compete with her. He would always choose her before you. Yet you were only 16 years old when you discovered he got you pregnant. This news terrified you so much. You didn't want to lose him, and you knew he was already going through so much shit stuff with his family and his "business." Better yet, you were scared about how your family would react, let alone his. At least you have Debbie, your best friend, who's also pregnant with you.
A/n - Ok, so listen, I'm not the greatest at slang dialog, sooo don't hate on me, please lol I'm sorry, I tried, ok! Anyways I hope you guys enjoy this. Since it was one of the ones I really enjoyed writing. Not to mention it took me forever only to end up putting this story into parts instead...
Warning! Teen pregnancy, Cussing, Small spoilers, Mention of virginity loss, Small mention of rape, Insecurities, Mention of paranoia, Depression, Lying, Traumatic event
Note! If any of that makes you uncomfortable- DON'T READ THE STORY!
Word count: 1,405
[Angst/Fluff]
PART 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 (Completed)
Shameless Masterlist
Fandom Masterlists
/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/
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***Y/n's Pov***
How could this have happened?! That stupid pill is worthless!
You were currently sitting on your bathroom toilet, panicking over the pregnancy test you just took. This was the fifth test you've taken this week, giving you the same answer yet again. You couldn't believe it. You only did it once!
You swore to your family that you wouldn't get pregnant as a teenager. You promised your mother you would avoid making the same mistake she and your two older sisters made. Yet it seems like everyone in your family either got pregnant or impregnated someone at a young age, no matter what they did. 
This can't be happening! What the he*l am I gonna tell Carl?!
Knock, Knock~
"Yo, you almost done in there?" Your older brother, B/n, yelled from behind the door. "I need to take a pi*s!"
"Ye-yeah... Give me a second!" You panicked. Scrambling around the tiny bathroom, trying to hide the evidence.
"If you don't hurry up, I'm gonna come in!" He spat, jiggling the doorknob.
"Just wait! Would ya, please! God." You opened the door. "There! Jesus."
"What the he*l were you doing in there? And why do you have that? It's not even that full."
You were holding a plastic bag. Filled with bathroom trash along with your secret.
"So?! Why do you care whether it's full or not?" You spat.
"Jesus, what got you so moody?" Your brother gave you an annoyed look. "You pregnant or something?"
Although he said it with sarcasm, you couldn't stop your heart from bursting with fear when you heard him say that. You about froze in place as he gave you a questioning look. Then he proceeded into the bathroom.
Fu*k me... You started tearing up from the stress. Not again. You whipped away your tears once again as you left for school. Stupid hormones.
Time skip!~
You were walking up towards the school doors until you saw your best friend Debbie running towards you with a massive smile on her face.
"Y/NNN!" Debbie yelled across the schoolyard. "I-huff huh-huff..." When she got to you, she was practically a wheezing mess.
She inhaled a loaded bunch of air before screaming, "I'M PREGNANT!!!"
Her screaming caused some unwanted attention to occur.
"WHA-WHAT!?!?" Your face dropped. "Since when?!"
You draped your arm on Debbie's shoulder as you both walked down the school corridors.
"Since a week ago? I don't know; I took a test today and am pregnant!" Debbie was so excited she squealed. "Remember how I told you about Derek, my boyfriend?"
"Yeah-"
"Yeah, well, we did it, like- two weeks ago!"
"Wha-what?!" Now your heart dropped. "Why didn't you tell me you- did it with your boyfriend? Did you tell anyone else? Or like- did you tell him that you're p-pregnant!?" You whispered-yelled the last part.
You were panicking. You couldn't believe the situation you were in. What are the odds that you and your best friend got knocked up together simultaneously without planning anything? Well, even if you knew Debbie wanted to get pregnant, you didn't think she would actually act upon it.
"Come down! It's ok. The s*x was mutual this time, and I did tell him. He was ok with it, but Fiona, on the other hand- not so much."
"Oh, ok, well, what are you going to do?"
"What kind of question is that; keep it, obviously!"
"Right, right, I know that. I mean- I-." You paused. Looking her in her eyes. "Aren't you scared? Y-you know... about what others might think-?"
"Peff- No." She gave you a deadpan look. "I couldn't give two sh*ts about what others think of MY choices. I wanted this! Besides, my boyfriend wants this too."
"Are you sure he wanted this?"
"No- well, maybe? I don't know-"
Ring! The bell rang.
"Well, got to go. Can't be late for history- again. Byeee!"
Debbie left you by your classroom door.
What am I gonna do...? How is she not panicking about this!? I mean, knowing her family's circumstances... what am I going to do- my parents are going to kill me...
Time skip!~
You've been avoiding Carl all day. You didn't want to face him. You didn't want to tell him. You couldn't.
Throughout the day, you've been in this paranoid state. Falling into deep thought only to jump out of it whenever someone said something to you or made a loud noise. It became so noticeable that one of your teachers pulled you aside in between classes to ask you if everything was okay. You told them you were fine when really you were a mess.
At some point, Carl finally managed to grab ahold of you. It was during lunch when he asked you-
"Yo!" Carl grabbed your upper arm and turned you around. "What's goin on? Why have you been avoiding me all day?!"
"Carl- uh..." You gave a nervous giggle. "Everything's fine."
"Ya sure? Cause I've been tryin to get ahold of ya all day, and it just seemed like you were completely outta it." Carl gave you that bruff look.
"Sorry, I just got a lot on my mind at the moment."
"Yeah, we can tell, so what's up?" He asked, joining you at your lunch table.
"Well, nothing much. Uhh… I heard that Debbie got pregnant." You said, trying to change the topic.
"Oh yeah- she told ya, huh. Figures." Carl looked at you, agitated. "Ok, whaddya know?!"
"What do you mean?"
"You're tryina change the subject; why?"
You were never one to lie. It just wasn't in your nature. You were terrible at it, so no matter what you said, everyone eventually finds the truth.
You sighed. "Carl- what would you do in their situation? Hmm?"
"Whaddya mean?"
"I mean... If you got me pregna-"
"Woah, woah, woah! I GOT YOU PREGNANT!"
"NO! And keep your voice down!" You whispered-yelled at him.
"Oh, okay then, why ask?!" He asked in that slang accent of his.
"It's just-" You looked down at your food. Poking it with your plastic spork. "I need to know what you would do... If you and I were in the same situation as Derek and Debbie..."
"That's a weird question..." Carl looked into your eyes. He saw a hit of sadness in them. He took a pause the said- "Okay, fine."
Carl laid his hand on top of yours on the table. He leaned in, looking into your eyes, and said, in his regular voice- "If I got you pregnant, I'd try my hardest to be the best father, role model, and partner. I'll do everything I can so our future fam can live in luxury." He smirked.
You stopped looking into Carl's eyes and drifted down to your knees. Carl saw that your eyes were getting misty, so he leaned in and gave you a sweet kiss.
"Listen, babe. You don't need to worry about that stuff. If you're worried it might happen, we don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with." Carl cupped your cheek. "I swear, even if it did happen, I would never abandon you. I love you."
You looked into Carl's eyes once again and closed the remaining gap between the two of you. Sharing a sweet kiss for only a moment when you ended it. Pushing him inches away, you said, "Carl, I'm pregnant."
Ring! The bell ranged. People started to get up, throwing away their trash.
"YOU'RE WHAT!?" Carl yelled out of nowhere, causing a few people to look at him. Instantly he pulled back. Jumping up from his seat. "How! We-" Carl only stopped when he saw your face drop morbidly fast.
You started hiccupping as tears rolled down your face. The whole lunchroom was quiet by that point. Instinctively out of embarrassment, you quickly tried to cover your face with your hands.
Now people were really staring.
"Wait, baby, please don't cry. I didn't mean it like that." Carl tried to grab your hands away from your face. But you refused instead; you instantly got up and ran away. Before he could even get up, Nick quickly grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from chasing you…
Carl watched you leave the lunchroom. All eyes turned to him. He stood there feeling guilty and angry. Carl swatted Nick's hand off his shoulder. "What the he*l, man! Why'd ya stop me!"
"She needed space."
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A/n
That was Part 1 of a somewhat long story. This story was originally going to be a one-shot, but it was just too long for my liking. It's taken me about like 4 weeks now. With the grammar checking, editing, and organizing... It was a lot, and I really wanted to publish something. Just so you guys know, I'm not dead, lol. Anyways yes, this was the post that got delayed. :( But I'm working on getting everything out! :)
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beidouswif3y · 1 year
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The aftermath of it all
Plot: after the events of Civil War, the team was not the same as it used to be or A slow and long process of healing from the events that happened
Note: I just wanted to write some Marvel stuff because I love Wanda and Natasha with my whole heart. Hope you enjoy. This is actually the longest thing I've ever written
Cw: enby reader, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of typical canon violence (torture, death), nightmares, happy ending, no beta, I haven't watched civil war in a while so my recollection of events may be off, 2996 words
Characters: Wanda Maximoff (romantic), Natasha Romanoff (romantic) Sam Wilson (platonic), Tony Stark (platonic), Steve Rogers (platonic) Rhodes (platonic)
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1 Month
Reader POV:
That’s how long it’s been since the team fought against each other at Leipzig-Halle Airport, Schkeuditz in Germany.
The tension between the those who were part of Team Captain America and Team Iron Man is palpable. The common room that once had the sofas occupied by the Avengers either on their off-days simply enjoying the momentary peace before the next mission or they were all gathered there shouting over whatever shitty movie was playing. Someone (usually Tony) trying to explain the problems in each scene and how they could have avoided the situation or dealt with it better. Someone else (usually Sam or Natasha) would tell him to relax and just watch the movie.
You miss those days.
You all miss those days.
But right now it would be best to let everyone be on their own. Let them process the events that have taken place.
Lord knows you also need the time too. You weren’t part of the tension that was caused when Ross introduced the Sokovia Accords and what happened afterwards. Wanda and Natasha, your girlfriends, were adamant to keep you out of it since you aren’t an Avenger.
It feels frustrating even now.
Not being able to have done anything to help back then.
But now you are determined to help your girlfriends and the rest of the team. The Avengers are family to you. To just sit back and watch them all suffer in silence is the last thing you want to do right now.
2 Months
Natasha’s POV:
Natasha wants to talk to you.
Properly talk to you.
Not short sentences exchanged when you happen to run into each other.
She missed you and Wanda dearly while she was still on the run. Not a single day went by without her thinking about you two. She missed those long cuddle sessions Wanda was always so adamant about after long missions. She missed hearing about whatever crack theories your mind would come up with at 3 in the morning.
Your absolutely horrible attempts at flirting that never failed to bring a smile to her face.
The adorable way Wanda's nose would scrunch when she smiled.
That smile…
It feels like centuries have passed since she last saw either of you smile. Especially Wanda.
She has an idea as to what may have happened at The Raft for Wanda to be this way. The last time she saw Wanda so on edge was after the battle of Sokovia on the way back to America. She had lost the person in her life who she called family. Natasha understands that pain all too well.
For a long while, Wanda kept to herself for the most part. Having to live in a whole new country right after all that had happened was not going to be an easy thing to adjust to. Natasha gave her time. Gave her space. A shoulder to cry on when the reality of her situation finally set in. Reassured her that she was not alone. That she would be there for her if she ever needed it.
It took a very long time for Wanda to reach the point she was at before this…
So to see her right back where she started. Maybe even worse made Natasha angry. Angry at what those guards might have put her through. Angry at herself for not being able to do something as simple as talk to you and Wanda.
You both are so close yet so far away.
A metaphorical hand reaching out for something that appears close but moves further away the closer it gets.
She has so much to say but when she is face-to-face with either of you, the words escape her. Forced to make awkward small talk before parting ways again.
-------
“Tomorrow I will definitely talk to them both.”
She has been telling herself this for the past two months but when tomorrow becomes today, she isn’t able to say what she wants to say.
Love isn’t as childish as she originally thought it was.
3 Months
Wanda's POV:
There is a lot going on in her mind.
The loud thoughts of everyone in the Compound most certainly aren’t helping with her current state.
She’s been having more nightmares.
Nightmares about HYDRA and what happened at the Raft.
She dreams about her brother, Pietro. How he would try to comfort her after a particular rough day when they were children. And later in their young adult lives while still at HYDRA.
She dreams about not being able to leave the Raft. Constantly subjected to electrocution if she does anything the guards deem threatening. Stuck in that restrictive straight jacket and collar around her neck.
Being isolated and kept on high surveillance.
Like some dangerous animal that would kill anyone and anything within its vicinity.
She doesn’t have you or Nat to comfort her like she used to. You all sleep in different rooms now.
Every night she wakes up all alone in a cold, large bed.
Left to try and comfort herself.
She curls up and cries. Imagining the arms wrapped around her shaking body are yours and Natasha’s.
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Even if she doesn’t have the straight jacket and collar anymore, Wanda is still cautious with how she behaves.
The thought of being perceived as a threat by those she’s grown close to over all these years plagues her mind.
“It’s better this way. I won’t hurt anyone if I keep my distance.”
She’s hurt people before.
The fire and screams fresh in her mind.
Killed innocent people with her own hands.
The same hands that are now always covered by the sleeves of her shirts.
She hates how suffocating the air becomes when she tries talking to you or Nat.
Wanda tells herself it’s better to keep the distance between you three but there is a part of her at the back of her mind, whether she wants to admit it or not, longs for the stability she once had with you two.
4 Months
3rd person POV:
Tension is still very much present amongst the Avengers. Conversations are slowly becoming a bit longer each day but the overall mood feels like there is a perpetual rain over everyone.
The only good news is that Rhodes’s physical condition has been doing good ever since Tony gave him the exoskeleton.
Steve has taken to trying to always be present whenever Wanda and Tony are in the same room.
The last time they were left alone resulted in Wanda being close to panicking and Y/n and Steve trying to diffuse the situation.
Clint has been away to be with his family during this time. He calls Natasha whenever he can to check in on her and the situation as a whole.
Sam and Steve have become closer during this time.
Vision understands why everyone is the way they are right now. He has tried to help but it tended to cause more harm than good.
Pepper tries to help. It isn’t met with the same reception as when Vision tried but it became obvious her approach wasn’t working. Tony leaves with her for a while just to get some reprieve from everything.
Bruce and Thor?
They’re whereabouts unknown to the team but they’re sure those two are alright wherever they might be
10 Months
Reader POV:
Enough is enough.
Today is the day you all need to talk.
It won’t be easy. That much you’re sure of. Emotions and talking about them never is easy. But it’s like peeling off a band aid. It hurts which is why you avoid doing so. But once it’s removed, the pain is gone and the wound can be properly taken care of.
You wrote letters to everyone to meet in the common room at 18:00. You slid the letters under their doors.
It didn’t take a lot of convincing for Tony to come over when you called him. Especially when he had Pepper looking at him like that. Her eyes screamed, “I dare you to try and refuse.” He wasn’t going to try make her annoyed any time soon.
Now here you sit on the sofa with the time being 17:45.
The first one to arrive is Natty. She smiles that oh so gentle smile that seems to only be present with you or Wanda. She noticed the variety of drinks and food on the table and asks you about it.
“It’s just for if you guys feel hungry or thirsty. I made the food myself.”
Only when you say that does she notice the band aids on your fingers. The desire to take your hands in your and kiss your hands leaves as quickly as it came. Even if she so desperately wants to feel you once again.
Natasha moves to sit on the same sofa you’re sitting on. There’s some space between you two and after thinking about it a bit more, you move closer just so that your hands are touching. She is surprised by this action but that feeling fades away. She places her right hand over your left gently rubs the areas that hurt. Natasha isn’t looking at you as she does this.
It's quiet but not that awkward tension you’ve grown used to over the months. Nat has already eaten some of the food. She must’ve been hungry; you think to yourself.
Wands arrives next. She remains quiet, standing still in place. The look she gives you both is asking if she is allowed to join. You smile at her and Nat uses her other hand to call her over by waving her finger in a come-hither motion.
Wanda hesitates for a good long moment before ultimately deciding to move forward to the sofa you both occupy. She sits on your right but leaves some space between you and Natasha.
She sits with covered hands on her lap.
You extend your hand to her, “Wands? Please, come here. You won’t hurt me, I promise you.”
Wanda looks at you. For the first time this whole day. You see that her eyes are red from crying. She does not move, however.
“Please, Wands. I need both my loves.” Natasha says this.
Slowly, Wanda moves closer to you. It still is not as close as Nat but you won’t try and push her. Your hands brush against each other but Wanda doesn’t move away from the touch. She has a smile on her face but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
A start. That’s all that matters.
It’s now 17:56 and everyone else arrives.
Sam and Steve sit together on one sofa. Sam enjoys some food while Steve is sipping away at water.
Vision chooses to stand even when offered a place to sit.
Tony arrives with Rhodes and they sit together on one sofa.
18:03
Now that everyone is here, you start to speak.
“Thanks for coming, you guys. I think you may all know why I asked to talk to you today. I want us to properly discuss what happened and how we are going to handle the emotions we all are feeling. Whatever is discussed today stays between us.”
The conversation that follows is an emotional one.
A fight almost happens when they all state their reason for joining either Team Captain America or Team Iron Man but that is resolved.
19:23
They each explain what they’ve been up to the past months and how they felt. Wanda whispers to you that she would rather talk about it with you and Natasha. She’s now holding your hand as a way to calm herself.
20:45
The atmosphere is a lot more calmer now. Vision apologised to Wanda for keeping her at the Compound. He acknowledges it will take time for her to trust him but it does not bother him. Vision coaxed Wanda into talking to Tony about how she felt about being made under what was practically house arrest. Her voice is soft as she speaks.
You talk about how the situation, and not being able to have done anything to help, has affected you all this time.
The team feels guilty for dragging you into their mess and you cried for a bit. The emotions spilling out after being quiet for so long.
22:02
Everyone is chatting amongst themselves. You catch hints of each conversation. Steve and Bucky talking about their youth. Steve is teasing Sam about never being able to outrun him and Sam declares he will one day.
Rhodes, Tony and Vision are deep in conversation about something concerning the iron man suits.
You announce that you will be having an early night. The guys all say goodnight to you, Wanda and Natasha when you leave. It should be alright to leave them for a bit.
Those three especially need to talk about all that has happened, Steve thinks before going back to his conversation with Sam.
You and your partners head to Wanda's room to talk.
Once everyone is in the room, you ask if you should close the door. Wanda nods and you do.
You three are sitting on her bed facing each other.
The air is tense.
Nat breaks the silence.
“Wanna talk about what’s been going on, Wands?”
“We’re here to listen. Now and always.” You say.
Wanda breaks down after that. Without thinking, she clings to Nat since she is the closest. Nat rubs her back as she cries. You move closer to run your finger through Wanda's hair in a way that has never failed to make her relax.
After 10 minutes, Wanda calmed down. She doesn’t move from her place in Nat's arms.
“I miss you both so much. I miss us. I’ve been having to wake up all alone in this bed, without you two here with me. I missed waking up to my favourite people every morning. I needed to have you both here whenever I had those nightmares but every time I tried to reach out, you always felt so far away from me…” she takes a break to calm her breathing before continuing, “for some time I thought it would be better that way. I never want to hurt either of you. But soon I started to crave your touch and how you would always hold me like this when I cried. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep thinking about that.” She started crying soon as those words were said.
You feel tears go down your cheeks.
You look at Nat to see she’s tearing up too.
Natasha's POV:
She feels so shitty.
Her love was suffering alone all this time and yet she never knew about it. For 10 months she let her cry herself to sleep missing her to such an extent even though she was here all this time.
She looks at her other love to see them crying as well.
She wraps her right arm around your shoulders and brings you closer to her. She places kisses on your forehead and Wanda's and you hear her mumble, “I’m sorry.”
Wanda’s POV:
She feels guilty.
Guilty for making you and Nat cry.
If only she kept her mouth shut then none of this would’ve happened.
“I’m sorry”, she hears Natty say.
It just makes her cry even more.
Reader POV:
It feels like forever until you all have stopped crying.
You were still sniffling and Wanda was wiping away her tears.
“W-Wanda?” You say softly.
“Yes…?”
“I want you to understand something. I don’t know what your mind tells you about yourself but we’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you are not what you think you are. Never will be the monster that you view yourself to be, alright?” silence. “alright?” she nods at that.
“I love you so much, detka. So so much. I’m sorry wasn’t there for you two when you needed it the most.” Nat says.
“Please, don’t apologise, Natty. I don’t want you to apologise. I have you both here with my now and that’s all I care about.” Wanda has her head on Nat's shoulder and she whispers an I love you.
“I love you, Nat,” you kiss her cheek, “I love you, Wanda.” You kiss her cheek.
“Our relationship isn’t going to be the same as it was before, that’s for sure. But I know we can work through this together just like we did every thing else we’ve faced.” You say. A yawn escapes your lips.
“As long as I have you both in my life, I am more than happy.” Wanda says which causes Nat to laugh due to Wanda’s close proximity to her neck.
“I would never want it any other way. You both are my world.” Nat says.
“By the way, Natty,” Wanda pulls away to look at Nat, “I really love this blonde era you have going on.” She further emphasises her point by running her fingers through her hair.
“Why thank you, Wands. At least someone is nice enough to mention it.” Nat looks at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“I’m too tired for this.” You move away from Nat to get under the blankets. Wanda's bed always was super comfortable.
“But I think you look great… you always look great.” your eyes are closed. Sleep starting to overtake you.
“How about we join our malysh in bed? Sound good to you?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Wanda and Nat climb under the blankets to join you. You instantly cuddle into Nat and feel Wanda wrap her arms around your torso.
You missed this.
You all did.
It’s definitely going to take some time for everything to be entirely resolved. It won’t be easy either.
But with your partners and friends, you know you all will be able to work through it together.
For now, though, you let yourself enjoy the embrace of the women you love as you fall asleep.
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Idk if I'll write for Marvel again
This may just be a one time thing
With that being said, reblogs are still appreciated
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deadbranch · 1 year
Text
Green to Me (Part III)
Author: @deadbranch
Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!Reader
Summary:  John and reader share more than one kind of intimacy during the sober aftermath of John’s first time getting baked.
Word Count:  2.6k
Warnings:  18+ MDNI suggestive content, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, mention of p in v, mention of previous and future cannabis use, vague mention of canon-typical death and angst, fluff, flirting, language you wouldn’t use in polite company, reader is a cishet female American & veteran.
A/N:  In case anyone’s worried, this series has a happy ending.  No spoilers, just assurance that we’re not headed toward any broken hearts, even if there may be a little angst on the way.  At least 2-3 more episodes to be written after this one.
Previous A/N:  Feedback is appreciated.  Multiple POV’s. Very little canon material used.  Reader is 32, Price is 36.  Thoughts are bolded and italicized.  Text messages are bracketed italics.
SERIES MASTERLIST
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GREEN TO ME (PART III)
“John?”
Even after you’d pulled away from the kiss, his eyes are still closed.  You say his name again as you bring your palm up to his face, your fingers enjoying the softness of his beard.  His eyes open, and he places his hand over yours.
As John’s pupils focus on your face he smiles.  “You okay, sweetheart?” he murmurs.
You hesitate. “I apologize for all of…that.  I don’t normally cry in public.”  You smile, attempting to make light of what just happened.  With a nod and your lips pressed together in a determined line you back out of his embrace and continue into the house.
“Sweetheart…”  Both John’s voice and his hands reach out to you as you walk away.
“I’ve got two blankets that should do.  Supposed to get cold tonight, so even in the living room…”  You can still feel the fuzziness in your head from getting baked, but nothing special.  You’d intentionally gone lighter than usual because you know yourself.  You know how tempting John Price is, and you wanted to remain the adult in the room no matter what.  Well fuck me running.
John stops you halfway through the living room, his hands on either side of your ribcage, the sensation taking your breath away.  He convinces you to turn around with minimal prompting.  You see the unwarranted concern on his face despite how you’d hoped he’d accept your little breakdown as some kind of passing emotional episode, something women do or…something.
It wasn’t a breakdown.  You let the mask slip.  It’s back in place.  Fuck.
John places his palm against the side of your neck, his thumb stroking your jaw.  You lean into his touch as tears threaten your eyes again.
“Well, we’re not in public.  Tell me what’s wrong.” His voice is soft as he leans in, his lips almost touching yours.  “Please.”
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They sit together on the couch, the rolling tray still sitting on the coffee table, but otherwise forgotten.
They exchange stories of terrible things they couldn’t unsee.  Acts they couldn’t undo.  But especially the events over which they had no control.
John feels a dull ache in his chest as he listens to her describe her experiences and continued nightmares.  He takes her hand in his.
She doesn’t weep again until John shares the things he’d witnessed before branching spec ops.
“Recruiters and candidate support officers don't tell you these things.”
She smiles bitterly, “I don’t recall any of it in the literature either.”
John squeezes her hand.  A snort of laughter from him startles her, but she quickly follows suit as their mixed emotions crackle between them.
Her unguarded laughter is beautiful.  Her chest heaves with the abandon of someone who doesn’t care who can hear.
After their hitching and heaving fits subside, John tries to reestablish eye contact with her.  He has a weird feeling that she could slip away, and that she’s right on the edge of doing so.
John catches his breath first, determined to keep her talking.
“I’ve never talked about it before.  None of that.  The mass graves, the abandoned villages,…none of it.  Even the others that were there…we never talked about it.  It’s just not done.”
“Same.  They tell you to talk to the chaplain, but you’re better off if you don’t.  Looks bad…”  She sighs as she pulls his hand into her lap, both fingers rubbing his knuckles.  Her eyes stare absently at nothing in particular.  John scoots closer, concerned by what may come next.
“You ever meet with a counsellor?” he asks, his mind already feeling clearer than thirty minutes ago.
“Yeah.  It helped.  I carry the load differently now, but…I still carry it.”
“I know the feelin’.”  John brings her hand to his lips.  “I’m sorry…if I did or said anything that dredged up bad memories.” 
“You didn’t do anything wrong.  I keep a good grip on it usually.  Not sure what happened there.”
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You know precisely what went wrong.  You let yourself think beyond the moment with John.
Stay in the present.
After he goes home in the morning you plan to have yourself a good cry, or not.  Maybe play some GTA or do some writing.  GTA sounds better than crying.  So fucking exhausting.
You’ve noticed that he’s been moving closer to you as you talk.  His leg is touching yours.  John’s lips are moving gently against the back of your hand again, his soft beard tickling and tempting you to pull him against you.
You want him.  And it’s not the weed speaking.  You’ve wanted him since the day you met, but the feeling has evolved into something so intense you could scream.
You shut your eyes as you decide what to do.
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Your eyes adjust gradually to the muted blueish light that always shines into your bedroom through the shut blinds.  The red numerals floating in the gloom to your right say 01:33.
After detaching your hand from John almost two hours ago, you’d brought him those two blankets you promised him, and a pillow.  He was exhausted, but so are you.  You’d dozed for perhaps an hour, but now you’re wide awake.
John had been smiling when you left him on the couch, but you saw the disappointment in his eyes.
It’s been a while since you’d felt like this.  You smile to yourself in the dark.
Mineral water sounds good right now.  The burn of the bubbles is mildly cathartic but doesn’t require rebrushing of teeth.
The master bedroom door drifts open quietly as you listen through the gap.  Hearing nothing, you walk quietly down the hall and through the living area.
You glance down at John’s sleeping form as you pass behind the couch.  You’ve always envied those who can fall and stay asleep easily.  Your mind idly wonders if he removed his pants before pulling the blankets over himself.  A cursory glance across the dark living area tells you nothing.
By the time you get to the kitchen you start walking normally again.
You listen to the tick of the wall clock as the mounted bottle opener clacks and hisses.  With beverage in hand, you decide to head back to your room.  As you’re sneaking back through the living area, you hear John’s voice.
You freeze in case he’s talking in his sleep.
“Sweetheart?”  His voice sounds clear, unburdened by groggy sleep. “Come ‘ere.”  He gestures with his hand for you to approach, his body still in the same position as when he was sleeping.  But then you wonder if he’d been asleep at all.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you offer as you set your glass bottle on the table to take a seat near John’s feet.
“Move closer.”  He gestures with both hands this time.  You take a deep breath and move a whole cushion toward him, so you’re seated next to his hips.
John rolls toward you and scoots back into the fold of the couch while pulling you by the shoulders to lie down in front of him.  As your head touches the pillow, you’re acutely aware of where he’s making contact with you.  You snuggle back against him, not just for the warmth but also your precarious proximity to the couch’s edge.
You feel the tickle of his facial hair against the back of your neck.  You giggle.
“What’s funny?”
“You’re tickling me.”
“Am I?  Now you’re just teasin’…I’ve done no such thing,” he says with what sounds like genuine confusion.  “A tickle would be more like this…”
John’s fingertips press into your side and begin a maddening scrabbling motion.  You make an unearthly sound and writhe in his arms, your ass pushing back against him as you grasp at his hand to cease its movements.  Thankfully he doesn’t persist.  His fingers still, but he doesn’t retract his hand.  The both of you lay there, as still as stone, as though each is waiting for the other to act.
The offending hand pulls you closer, and you feel his beard against your neck again.  Warm lips kiss the vulnerable skin there and you sigh.  You know John felt your exhalation as his body responds to the sound.
He shifts his weight and leans up on one elbow, looking down at you in the gloom.
“You sober?” he asks, his thumb tracing your jawline, then your bottom lip.
“Yeah.”  Your lips pucker almost imperceptibly as his thumb passes over your bottom lip again.
“Me too.”  John smiles as he watches your mouth.  “I still feel good, but I think that has everything to do with you rather than anything else.”
“Oh yeah?”  You look up at John as you kiss the pad of his thumb as it passes over your lips one more time.
“Oh yeah…” John leans in to kiss you.  His mouth is warm.  He breaks the kiss and nuzzles your cheek with his chin.  You squeal and accuse him loudly of tickling you again.
Before you can figure out how in the hell you went from being a self-possessed woman of the twenty-first century to a squealing mess, his fingers return to your sides with a feverish and obvious intent to tickle. You wriggle and writhe in his arms until you can’t draw breath.
It's then that you realize your panties are soaked.
Your struggling limbs slow their movements and your squeals have somehow been replaced by little gasps and breathy moans.
John’s fingers find the edge of your t-shirt as he whispers in your ear.
“Is this okay?”  As he awaits your answer, you can feel his fingertips against the skin of your belly, waiting, slowly flexing with what you can only imagine is hopeful anticipation.
“Yes.”
Something occurs to John.  “Do you have condoms?”
“No.  Threw the last box out. Expired.”
“Dry spell?”  His lips pull into a smirk.
You chew on the inside of your cheek.  “Yeah.”
More like you’ve been keeping people away, but the result is the same.
He looks concerned.  “I hope that wasn’t presumptuous of me to ask.”
You kiss him, your lips pressing chastely against his.  His worried expression dissolves, and you adore the disarming range of emotions he allows you to see.  Most men don’t allow it.
“Presumptuous to ask about my dry spell?”  You whisper against his lips, his mustache tickling in a way that makes you want to take him to bed immediately.
“To ask if you have condoms.  I didn’t mean to imply…”  He stops and shuts his mouth when he realizes you’re smiling.
“Well, why didn’t you bring any condoms?” You counter softly, but hopefully with the right amount of amusement.  You’re rewarded with a befuddled British captain.
“You got me there.  I…didn’t dare hope you’d want to…but I see now that I should have been more optimistic.”
You snort and laugh against his neck, his Adam’s apple teasing you as it bobs against your lips.  “Not a contingency you’d foreseen?”
“Not a contingency for which I was prepared, that’s for sure.”  John gets you to meet his gaze again.  “I think we should nip off to a pharmacy first thing in the morning. Whaddaya say?”  The playful hope in his eyes makes you ache inside.
You haven’t felt that ache in a long time.
“Agreed.  On that note, we should get some sleep.”  You sit up, swinging your legs to plant your feet on the carpet.  John’s hands are immediately around your waist as he sits up alongside you, his lips kissing the exposed skin between your neck and shoulder.  You get the impression he won’t let go of you easily.
His arms reluctantly release you as you stand.  You smile down at him and reach out.  As he places his rough hand in yours, his brow draws together in puzzlement.
Realization registers on his face when he sees where you’re going.
You may not have condoms until the morning, but there’s plenty of fun to be had without.
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John’s lips make your mouth drop open silently as they work their way down your stomach.
Neither of you is wearing a stitch of clothing.  You’d wanted to see, feel, and play without garments getting in the way.  And as John so eloquently put it, both of you have the will and experience not to go too far.
You’ll wait out the dawn to procure prophylactics.  No work until Monday, but you’re completely booked up. John says he'll keep you and your schedule full as often as you want.
You hiss as he slides two fingers inside you, his lips suctioning gently to your clit.  His other arm holds your hips down firmly against the mattress as you try to buck.  His hand splays across your lower abdomen and presses gently as he pleasures you with the other.  After you come, he informs you he could feel your spasming muscles from both inside and out.
John grins, his lips and facial hair glistening.  He reaches for the towel you brought from the bathroom and wipes down the lower half of his face.
You sit up and look at him in the dark, your eyes searching his.  “How do you feel?  In the sober lull after smoking out your first time?”
He looks thoughtful as he lays the towel aside.  “Incredible, to be honest.  I still feel something, but it’s not that high feeling anymore.  It’s just…really good?  Content? I can’t describe it.”  He drags you to him by your ankles, causing you to squeal again.  “I’m starvin’ though.  We should grab breakfast before we get the condoms.”
You embrace each other as he sits cross-legged with you in his lap.  John places little kisses across your chest, above your breasts. His thumbs stroke across your nipples as you reach between his legs and stroke his cock.
Pain blossoms in your bottom lip as you realize you’re biting down as you gauge the girth of him.  He’ll fit, but it’ll be snug.
You clench at the thought of him sliding into you and that delicious ache returns.  John chides you softly as he notices your increasingly antsy pace.
“Mmm, naughty…be careful with that darling…AHHH…”  John’s hips jerk as you press the length of his erection against your mons and lower belly, your thumb rolling gently over the tip.  You whisper against his cheek as you lock your arm over his shoulder and pull him close.
“That’s how deep it will go.  Goddammit, you're long…”
Both of you look down between your bodies as you continue to stroke him against your belly.  John tilts his head back and mutters, “…Fuck…”
“Just imagine, John.   The both of us high as fuck…and screwing each other senseless...”
John mutters a string of expletives, his eyes closed as you keep stroking.  You continue whispering and goading against his neck, his beard grazing your forehead as you feel him nearing orgasm.
He pushes you onto your back as he finishes on your stomach, his warm cum making you squirm with delight as you imagine it inside you instead.  John rolls onto his back next to you as he reaches for the towel.  He hands it to you first before attempting to clean himself up.
As you both drift in and out of a dozing twilight you hear yourself say out loud, “We’re going to have a lot of fun tomorrow.”
John drowsily replies, “With or without weed…I’m going to fuck you silly.  We should get a few cartons of condoms...just in…”
Grinning, you roll toward him as he loses consciousness.  Pulling the sheet up to cover both of you, you try to clear your mind.
You close your eyes.
For the first time in what feels like forever, you sleep the dreamless sleep of satisfied exhaustion.
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PART IV
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@brewed-pangolin
@jwjeepers
@argella1300
@guyfieriii
@delicatemortal
@goodsoup03
@fruitymoonbeams-blog
@tapioca-marzipan
@chocolatestrawberry-poptart
@kafeyjen
@uroborosvirus
@abyssbull
@thriving-n-jiving
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Good Neighbors (2)
PART 1
AN: This is the second smutlet in a series set after the events of Night Moves. This one's from Santi's POV. 😊
(Un-beta'd)
“It’s a thank you,” you’d said, “for fixing my shower.”
Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 578 Pairing: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x F!Reader Warnings: pwp, fingering, oral sex, kissing, neighbors with benefits (is that a thing?? idek) AO3
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You gasp, throwing your head back against the cabinet, the thump echoing throughout the kitchen. Your fingers clench in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, and he smothers his groan against your core. A choked moan falls from your parted lips, thighs tensing as he presses his face closer. He’s never tasted anything so delicious in his life, the tart taste of your slick on his tongue like heaven as he laps greedily at your sopping cunt. His fingers dig into your thighs, your little moans and whimpers going straight to his cock. 
“Santi,” you breathe, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as his tongue circles your clit. 
When you’d shown up at his door earlier with a plate of cookies, he’d been delighted. He hasn’t been able to get you off his mind since that first night, the night you’d shown up banging on his door at 3 a.m., anger burning in your eyes. 
“It’s a thank you,” you’d said, “for fixing my shower.” 
Of course, he’d let you in, smiling as he’d closed the door behind you and led you to the kitchen. It had been reminiscent of how this had all started, this thing between the two of you. Memories of that first night flashed in his mind’s eye as he watched you set the plate of cookies on his counter and suddenly, he’d wanted nothing more than to taste you, to feel you come around his fingers, to hear you moan his name. 
You hadn’t stopped him when he’d crowded you against the counter, your breath hitching as he’d slowly leaned in to claim your mouth in a searing kiss. You’d melted against him, actually, as if this was exactly what you were hoping would happen when you’d knocked on his door (not that he was complaining).
Now here you were, half naked in his kitchen, his tongue and fingers slowly bringing you to the brink as you sigh and moan his name—
He can’t get enough.
He pumps his fingers in and out of your slick channel, dragging the tips across that spot inside of you, that spot that makes you keen. Your thighs quiver on either side of his head, goosebumps breaking out across your skin, and he knows you're close. He wraps his lips around your clit, gently sucking on the sensitive bud, and you wail, fingers fisting tighter in his curls. A groan escapes him at the sting, and it makes your walls clench around his fingers. 
“Please,” you beg breathlessly as he drags his fingers across that spot again.
You come with a gasp, head thrown back against the cabinets, cunt fluttering as he works you through your orgasm with his tongue and fingers. You twitch a little as you come down, his tongue still gently lapping at your slit. He stops when you gently push him away, unclenching your fingers from his hair. 
He presses a kiss against your inner thigh before he pulls away, moving to stand to his full height. You pull him toward you by his shirt and quickly claim his lips, moaning softly at the taste of yourself on his tongue. He hums as he licks into your mouth, hands falling to your bare thighs as he presses in close. He pulls away after a moment, resting his forehead against yours as you try to catch your breath.
“Thanks for the cookies, hermosa,” he rasps, smiling when your laugh puffs against his lips.
If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖
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PART 3
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foxes-that-run · 5 months
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Cardigan
Cardigan is a response to Falling, it was written 2 months after the Falling video was released. The videos have Haylor references. Falling is Harry is worried his muse will never need him again. Cardigan is assuring him their muse-friend-situationship is OK. The voice note has different lyrics:
youtube
Living in a gold age Sneak into my birdcage Laughing like a damn fool Breaking every damn rule Peter leaving Wendy The Dancing in your Levi’s line was in place of leaving like a father I knew you’d linger like a stolen kiss I knew I’d wish you’d have changed your mind I knew the love would be for me to loose my mind
The original lyrics also have even more Haylor references:
Living in a gold age and sneak into my birdcage, I wish this stayed. Taylor has a birdcage in her Nashville apartment, Harry got a birdcage tattoo. See theme of gilded cages of fame and love.
Laughing like a damn fool, breaking every rule reminds me of Begin Again where he was "Laughing like a little kid" Harry also referenced Begin Again in the Falling Video.
Peter left Wendy rather than lost Wendy, such an interesting change when Taylor said she ended it in the 1989 Vault.
Stolen kiss is in Blank Space (Stolen kisses, pretty lies) and reminds me of Stolen Stares in Illicit Affairs
Finally links to I Wish you Would and Wonderland!
Taylor also provided foot notes for Cardigan, I have screenshots of more in the video post, in part say:
There's a collection of three songs I refer to as The Teenage Love Triangle (in my head). These three songs explore a summer love triangle from all three peoples perspectives at different times in their lives. It's like this one event happened in their town and it affected them each differently.
In the Long Pond Sessions, it is Betty's POV. Taylor said Betty winds up with James, 'but he really put her through it'. In the footnotes she also says she was "inspired by the feeling of isolation and how it can be freeing or terrifying and how it causes you to reminisce on the past." Indeed, we noticed. While all 3 of the triangle songs draw inspiration from HS/TS, Cardigan does so the most heavily.
Lyrics
[Verse 1] Vintage tee, brand new phone High heels on cobblestones When you are young, they assume you know nothing Sequin smile, black lipstick Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing
The first verse sets a scene, which is very 1989-esq, cobblestones is either in New York or London, Harry wears a lot of vintage tees.
Sensual politics is a reference to the themes Taylor explored in Slut. Coupled with when you are young, confirms this song is in reference to Harry.
To me, sequin smile, black lipstick could be taken as a scene setter. I think it is directed at Harry in a few ways though:
In IDWLF Taylor was so taken with her glitter lip got it's own BTS where Taylor mentioned runway (Only Angel).
IDWLF is Haylor, it's with Zayn about losing the love of your life and not wanting to end up alone.
and Black lipstick reminds me of Reputation. In he refers to the Rep Aesthetic Little Freak and dreams.
[Chorus] But I knew you Dancin' in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight, I I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, I
Dancin in your Levi's reminds both of Maroon's "Dancing in New York, No Shoes" where Harry is wearing black jeans, and Delicate's "Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you"
The chorus retells of the fun they had, it shows their chemistry and slightly messy nighttime antics.
[Refrain] And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite
I love this refrain, I love it so much, great imagery and so warm. It alo recalls Taylor feeling seen by Harry in dark times:
Delicate "This ain't for the best / My reputation's never been worse, so / You must like me for me", and
High Infidelity - Do you really wanna know where I was April 29th? /Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes? / Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?
Here Taylor is returning the favor, with saying how important their connection is.
[Verse 2] A friend to all is a friend to none Chase two girls, lose the one When you are young, they assume you know nothing
A friend to all was a common criticism laid on Taylor when the squad fell out of favor, I find it interesting here. Taylor directly refers to the events of Falling, though it's of note that in Cruel Summer she also had another beau.
To me the refrain of when you are young is referred to how young they were when they first dated, now around 30 they have held onto this connection.
[Chorus] But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends, I I knew you Your heartbeat on the High Line Once in twenty lifetimes, I
Hide-and-seen reminds us of I Know Places “'Cause I, I know places we can hide”
When they dated, Harry and Taylor travelled to be together, during 1D days Harry would sometimes fly a day late to spend more time with Taylor. Weekends are also mentioned in Now That We Don’t Talk: “What do you tell your friends we shared dinners, long weekends with?” And It’s Nice To Have A Friend: “Feels like home, stay in bed the whole weekend.”
Heartbeat on the high line is a reference to New York, where they spent time together
Once in 20 lifetimes, refers to how rare it is to find someone so special and 20 (13+7) is in many Haylor songs.
[Bridge] To kiss in cars and downtown bars Was all we needed You drew stars around my scars But now I'm bleedin'
Kissing in cars is a reference to the theme of driving. Kissing in bars is similar to Delicate’s “Dive bar on the East Side, where you at? /Phone lights up my nightstand in the black /Come here; you can meet me in the back”
Two Ghosts has a similar line “Moon dances over your good side /And this was all we used to need”
You drew star around my scars but now bleedin’ means to me that HS helped her turn her scars into a good thing, helped her feel better. But now they are apart she is bleeding. There are a number of bleeding as feelings lyrics in: The 1 (never bleed never grow) Olivia (bleeding love), Cruel Summer (If I bleed you'll be the last to know) and Woman (you’re making me bleed). I feel like the bleeding is also connected to the War metaphor Taylor uses.
[Chorus] 'Cause I knew you Steppin' on the last train Marked me like a bloodstain, I I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy, I I knew you Leavin' like a father Running like water, I And when you are young, they assume you know nothing
The last train is a Lyric (I stood right by the tracks / Your face in a locket) from Sad, Beautiful, Tragic on Red. Which was written in late 2011, the title is in the Video Footnotes.
To me bloodstain is a reference to This Love "This love left a permanent mark". In October 2023, a Harry Styles leak California, which refers to being in COVID lockdown in LA and kitten scratches included the lyric "Oh, it's you who left a mark on me"
Peter loosing Wendy, I love this lyric, it's brings imagery of them being young magical one of a kind people meant for each other but not being. A perfect new couple metaphor for them, and one I prefer to Burton/Taylor Mitchell/Nash (Can they've also used.
I find the leaving like a father line so sad, this reminds me of Seven.
[Verse 3] But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young I knew I'd curse you for the longest time Chasin' shadows in the grocery line I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired And you'd be standin' in my front porch light And I knew you'd come back to me You'd come back to me And you'd come back to me And you'd come back
Tattoo kiss is the final line, (stolen being in the voice note). This reminds me of the mentions of marks and of course tattoos. It also reminds me of the Golden Tattoo in Dress..
The smell of smoke reminds us of “Slut!”: "Adorned with smoke on my clothes, lovelorn and nobody knows"
When the thrill expired reminds us of Question…?: Did you leave her house in the middle of the night? Did you wish you put up more of a fight?
Standing in my front porch reminds us of I wish you would, HYGTG
Come back to me reminds us of another Haylor Red song, Come Back, Be Here.
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writer-in-theory · 8 months
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2-Year Blogaversary — It's A Part Two Autumn!
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This October will mark 2 years since I've actively written fanfiction on this blog, and I wanted to do something special for it. Over these two years, I've gotten a lot of part 2 requests and haven't ever taken them. Well, this changes now!
Have you ever wanted to see a Part 2 or POV change for a fic of mine? From now until October, I will be writing sequels and POV switch-ups for the most requested fics. This idea was heavily inspired by an event that one of my all-time faves @luci-in-trenchcoats ran this summer, so major credits to them for the idea.
How will this work? For the next week, Tumblr polls for each category of fic will be open. You can vote for your favorite fic and the winners of each will get either a direct sequel, prequel, or POV change written for them. You can also add in the tags or send in an ask if you want a specific kind of part two done.
When will fics be posted? My first fic on this blog ever was published on October 15, 2021. So, fics will be posted between the time the polls close to October 15, 2023.
It's that simple! I'm really excited about this project as it gives me the chance to revisit some favorites and do something that all of you might enjoy. Because truly, I would not have made it 2 years here without all of y'all and your wonderful support. Through the good and the bad, you've stuck around and I cannot thank you enough for it.
POLLS
Steddie Harringrove Spencer x Reader Smut Spencer x Fem!Reader Fluff Spencer x Fem!Reader Hurt/Comfort Spencer x Fem!Reader Angst (part 1) Spencer x Fem!Reader Angst (part 2) Spencer x GN!Reader Fluff Spencer x GN!Reader Hurt/Comfort Spencer x GN!Reader Angst
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Tagging my old CM taglist (much love <3): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @reidsbookclub @katymarie @lovejules888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithwho @lil-stark @raythefaye @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @lilibet261 @exhaleli @darkeunology @nomajdetective @meggie-m00n @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @reliefplease @mente-sindescanso @jj76889 @luna-novae @folkreid @nightmarewasteland @luredwithpretzels
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gogogodzilla · 1 year
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Happily Ever After || Cullen Rutherford
Summary: Cullen decides to fight for his love. For better or worse.
Note: Part 2 to Lovers' Quarrel from Cullen's POV. Heavily inspired by this post! Go check out their work, it's amazing!
{Part 1}
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Cullen was a man dedicated to his job. Or, well, he liked to think he was. But, as he half-read the reports on his desk, he found his mind wandering. His lover’s unwilling betrothal to someone else has plagued his mind in the days since he found out. Not to mention that the Inquisitor might die if they didn’t find a way to stop the mark from spreading. 
 The creaking of the door to his office caught his attention, and he raised his head to greet whoever decided to visit him. 
“Leliana,” he nodded to the spymaster, and stood from his desk, “what are you doing here?” 
Leliana took a few steps towards his desk, “The Inquisitor's situation is an unfortunate one. Josephine can only do so much on her side, and there’s no guarantee the Inquisitor would be freed from the commitment.” 
He clenched his fists at his side, “Why are you telling me this?” 
“Because,” Leliana had that glint in her eyes that she got when she was suggesting something morally questionable, “there is something you can do to help them.” 
“What is it?” Cullen’s answer was instantaneous. Anything to help his love. Although, the look on Leliana’s face unsettled him a bit. 
She leaned in, “You could duel this Marion Jager for the Inquisitor’s hand and be done with it.” 
“No, they wouldn’t want me to do that for them,” he replied forcefully. 
Leliana straightened and crossed her arms, “Think about it, Commander.” And with that, she turned on her heel and left his office. 
He slowly sank back into his chair. Leliana did have a point. If he could duel this Marion then the Inquisitor would be freed from them. He was running out of options, and right now this seemed like the best one. 
He would fight for his love, then. Nothing was going to get in between them. 
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The next day, he arranged for one of his people to deliver the challenge for a duel. He felt horrible for going behind the Inquisitor’s back, but white-hot determination quickly overcame that guilt. 
He was issuing the command when the Inquisitor came into his office. “I need this sent out immediately,” he commanded before dismissing the soldier. The soldier nodded to him before taking their leave, bowing slightly to the Inquisitor as they passed. 
The Inquisitor nodded to the soldier before returning their focus to Cullen. He couldn’t help the way his heart beat faster whenever they looked at him. It made him feel like a teenager all over again. 
“I love when you use that tone of voice,” the Inquisitor purred as they made their way around his desk and took a seat on the edge. They pulled him closer to them by the waist, and he stood between their legs.
He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to their lips, “How are you feeling?” 
They followed him as he pulled away to ask his question, their noses bumping together for a moment before the Inquisitor leaned in. He set his hands on either side of their hips, trapping them at his desk. 
“Better, now that I’m with you,” was their cheeky response as they leaned in again. You would think that they hadn’t seen each other in years, the way they were wrapped up in one another. Although, he wouldn’t forget the events of earlier that morning for a very long time. 
“If you’re trying to sweet-talk me, it’s working,” he whispered against their lips. They let out a giggle, as they released their hold on him to cup his face in their hands and deepen the kiss. 
He let out a groan as the Inquisitor’s hands moved to run through his hair, and he pushed them toward the edge of his desk. 
They pulled away, lips shiny and plump from their endeavors. “Your presence is requested in the war room, Commander,” they panted out, a blush dusting their cheeks. He knew he was bright red based purely on how hot he felt. 
“Of course, Inquisitor,” he breathed. Maker, help him. 
He stepped away, allowing the Inquisitor to rise from his desk. He offered them his arm, which they graciously took. 
“Have you and Josephine made any progress on the betrothal situation?” He asked nonchalantly as they made their way through the rotunda, Solas’s old paintings scattered across the walls. It filled him with some sadness to see the area so empty. 
The Inquisitor paused to stare at one of the murals, “No, but we’re getting there.” They deflated slightly, and he stepped in front of them, preventing them from walking any further. 
“We’ll figure it out,” he assured as he lifted their face so they’d look at him. They kissed him, short and sweet, before dragging him to the war room. 
They entered together before reluctantly separating to take their usual seats. Josephine wandered over to the Inquisitor and they began talking in hurried whispers. 
“I see you took my suggestion, Commander,” Leliana smirked as she leaned closer to him. 
He huffed, “Can you keep them busy when I have to go?”
“Just say the word,” she murmured, before returning her attention to the Inquisitor who was finishing her conversation with Josephine. 
The Inquisitor’s eyes darted between Cullen and Leliana, and his heart sank. They knew.
“Shall we begin?” The Inquisitor raised an eyebrow, a slight grin gracing their features. 
“Yes, Inquisitor,” he replied.
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A few days passed before he received a response to his challenge. A runner entered his office with a message which stated that an envoy had just arrived from Marion Jager, and he was waiting to speak with Cullen. 
“Send him to my office,” Cullen told the messenger who simply nodded in response. Cullen stood at his desk for a few moments, mulling over what to say to this envoy. Hopefully, their meeting would be quick, and he could get right to the part where he destroys the person who threatened to take his love from him. 
A lanky man wearing the usual Orlesian half-mask entered his office, and Cullen held back a sneer. He never understood why Orlesians insisted on wearing those ridiculous masks. 
“Greeting, Commander,” the man stood tall in front of his desk, “I am here on behalf of Sovereign Marion Jager. They accept your challenge and shall expect you in Val Royeaux.” 
Cullen nodded, “I’ll be there.” 
“Good, I will let the Sovereign know. Good day, Commander,” the man gave him a slight bow and took his leave. 
Cullen felt his pulse quicken. He needed to think of an excuse that would allow him to be gone for at least a week without the Inquisitor knowing. 
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“I need your help,” Cullen said and Leliana stood in front of him, the warm afternoon light shining in through the window behind her. The ruffling of feathers sounded behind him, and he tried to ignore it. He wasn’t particularly fond of the rookery. 
“Ah, Commander, right on time,” she replied with a knowing smile. 
He sighed, “Can you distract them? I need to go to-”
“Val Royeaux, yes, I know.” 
He never quite understood just how Leliana seemed to know everything that occurred in Skyhold. She just did. Although, he supposed it was her job to know everything just like it was his job to whip the recruits into shape. 
“I’ll need about a week to get there, just keep them busy until I can get back,” he continued. Normally, he wouldn’t dare lie to the Inquisitor, but these were different circumstances. The guilt still tore him up inside, though. 
Leliana hummed, “I’m sure Josie and I can think of something.” 
“You cannot include Josephine in this,” he stressed, “you know how she gets when it comes to the Inquisitor.” Josephine was one of his closest friends, but he knew that she couldn’t keep a secret from the Inquisitor. All they had to do was give her ‘the look’ and she was spilling everything. 
“We need everyone on board for this, which includes Josephine,” Leliana countered, raising a brow at him. 
Cullen rubbed the back of his neck before letting out a deep sigh, “Fine. Just buy me some time. Please.” 
“Of course, Commander. When will you leave?” She asked, a victorious glint in her eyes. 
He narrowed his before replying, “As soon as possible. I’d like to get this over as soon as possible.” 
Footsteps behind him caused him to turn and he blanched. Shit.
The Inquisitor ascended the steps and looked between the two of them. “Are you going somewhere, Commander?” They questioned, taking a few steps toward Cullen. 
He opened his mouth, ready to come clean. He knew when he’d been caught. 
“The Commander was just telling me that he received word from Emperor Gaspard asking for his assistance in training the Orlesian troops,” Leliana covered for him almost instantaneously. Thank the Maker. 
The Inquisitor’s gaze shifted solely to Cullen, a slight frown gracing her features, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
Maker, he wanted to come clean right there and then. Anything to stop the disappointment from gracing her features. 
“I just wanted to make sure Gaspard was telling the truth before I came to you,” he was sweating, and he hoped the Inquisitor couldn’t tell. He was quick to remedy the situation, or possibly dig a deeper hole for himself.
“I’ll only be gone for two weeks, at most,” he moved forward to encase their hands in his, “I won’t go if you don’t want me to.” That was a lie. He knew that the Inquisitor would never stop him from taking this opportunity. He also knew that he was going to Val Royeaux no matter what. 
The Inquisitor looked over his shoulder to Leliana, and they nodded, “Alright, Cullen… Just come back to me, okay?” 
“Always, my love,” he said softly and pressed a kiss to the forehead.
Maker, he was the worst. 
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The journey to Val Royeaux was eventless. Cullen’s muscles ached from the long days on horseback, but he knew it’d be worth it. He’d do anything if it meant his love would stay in his life. 
He was on edge as he entered the golden gates, standing up a little straighter and hand resting on his sword at his side. 
Cullen entered the round marketplace, the white stone nearly blinding him. A figure approached him and he stopped in his tracks. They were probably the only other person without a mask on, and they narrowed their eyes. Two servants in full metal masks stood behind them with rapiers held out in their hands like an offering. 
“I am Sovereign Jager of Ostwick, rightfully betrothed to Inquisitor Trevelyan,” they asserted before turning to the servants and grabbing a rapier in each hand. “I have to say, I was surprised to hear of a challenger for the Inquisitor’s hand, but I accept your challenge nonetheless,” they said before tossing him a rapier. 
He caught it effortlessly and narrowed his eyes at his opponent. Anyone would be lucky to have the Inquisitor’s hand. He thanked the Maker for every day they allowed him to remain in their life. 
A crowd started to form to watch their altercation. He would’ve preferred that their duel didn’t occur in a public place, but he bit the inside of his cheek and stifled his complaints. 
“Before we begin, I trust the weapon is to your satisfaction?” They asked as they began circling each other, waiting for the other one to strike.
His grip on the rapier tightened, “It’ll do.” 
They let out a laugh before swishing their rapier in the air, “Then let us begin.” And with that, their duel began. Cullen made a mental note to thank the Iron Bull for helping him prepare for the duel. Bull was slightly more enthusiastic about it than he was, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 
They exchanged blows for a few moments before Marion took a few steps back and laughed, “You’ve done well for an unsophisticated oaf such as yourself.”
He charged at them, and their swords came together with a clang. He pushed them backward, channeling all of his frustration into his swings. Their swords clashed together with neither of them giving in, and they were inches apart. 
“Felling you in front of the Inquisitor would provide a poor impression of House Jager to my betrothed,” they said with a smirk. 
“You won’t so much as touch them,” Cullen growled before they pushed him away. He stumbled backward but caught himself. 
Marion raised their rapier, “I admire your determination, Commander, but you cannot hope–” 
“Stop!” someone in the crowd cried. He knew that voice. Shit.
The Inquisitor pushed past two onlookers, nearly knocking them over in the process. 
“Inquisitor!” Cullen straightened, and his ears turned red. He felt like a teen getting caught fighting in the barracks with a fellow Templar. 
“Cullen Stanton Rutherford, what are you doing?” They demanded as they marched toward him. It was times like this that reminded him just how terrifying the Inquisitor could be. 
He flushed a deeper red, suddenly embarrassed. “I can’t take the chance that you might have to marry them,” he defended, throwing an accusing finger at Marion. 
“That is not your decision to make!” They fumed, hands clenching at their sides. Maker, they were furious. “You lied to me,” they continued, “all so you two could fight over my hand like children! The Inquisition needs you, I need you.” 
Cullen threw his rapier to the side, “I love you, and I would do whatever it takes to keep you in my life… If that means dueling for your hand, then so be it. ”
Their eyes softened and they grabbed the neck of his armor, pulling him down for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around them, needing them closer. 
“If I may, Inquisitor,” Marion interjected, and they reluctantly parted, “I’d assumed your affair with the commander was one out of passion or convenience, but I see now that that was not the case.” 
The Inquisitor intertwined their fingers with his, and Marion continued, “I am not fool enough to stand in the way of true affection. House Jager regretfully withdrawals the terms of our betrothal.” 
“Thank you,” the Inquisitor replied, a slight smile on their lips. Marion bowed and turned on their heel. 
Cullen took the Inquisitor in his arms once again, “I cannot apologize enough, my love. I should have told you about the duel.” 
“Yes, you should have,” the Inquisitor pursed their lips, before draping their arms around his neck, “But considering the fact you’re still alive, I’ll forgive you.” 
He kissed their lips, hoping that his actions could convey just how thankful he was for them. 
“Don’t ever lie to me again,” they ordered, grabbing his face with one of their hands and bringing him to their level. 
He nodded, and their mouth curved into a smile. They placed a gentle kiss on his lips and released his face from their grasp. 
Maker help him; he was going to marry the Inquisitor if it was the last thing he does.
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Competing For Christmas 6: Let It Snow (The Aftermath)
Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader
Word Count: 6,387
Rating: M. Language.
Summary: You and Din have laid it all out and established some ground rules ... where do you go next - and how do you cope with the looming end of the competition ... and the lack of a legitimate reason for the two of you to see each other? 
Author’s notes:
Still plugging along on this - please accept this first half of the 6th part as I finish the second half - and cover the final event. Thank you again for your patience. 
Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!
I’m so glad that everyone still seems to be enjoying this story, it’s definitely taken on a little more of a life of its own than I anticipated - but I’m still having fun with it. 
To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares​ and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)
Masterlist  / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1 / Part 5.2 / Din’s POV Interlude
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Din’s desk was empty and his office light was off when you stopped by on Monday afternoon. 
At first, you thought that maybe he’d stepped out to go and complete a work order, but when you looked around the room and saw his powered off computer and completely closed blinds, you realized that he hadn’t been in at all that day. 
“If you’re looking for Djarin, he called out today.” Turning at the sound of the voice, you saw one of the other IT guys across the hall, arms crossed over his chest. “There something I can help you with?” 
“No.” You fought the urge to cross your arms, too, and just shook your head. “I was just stopping by to say hello, I didn’t know he wasn’t here.” 
“Yeah, he sent an email this morning that said he was taking a personal day. Should be back tomorrow.” The man nodded. “I gotta get back to work. If you need anything, I’m here and so’s Mike.” Thanking him, you turned back toward your office, biting back a frown. 
You hadn’t expected Din to clue you in to everything he was doing after the discovery of the picture the previous day, but you’d thought that he would have at least let you know he wouldn’t be at work. 
Making your way through the hall, you let yourself get lost in your thoughts and hoped desperately that no one would stop you and try to start a conversation, because you were in no mood. 
He’d frozen the previous morning, eyes fixed on the glowing screen of your phone - but instead of getting mad about it, Din had only reached for the device, taking it from your hands and setting it down before turning to face you. 
“Hey.” His hands framed your face, the man saying your name quietly. “It’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you. We’ll figure it out.” 
“But this is exactly what you didn’t want to happen, Din. It’s why we have to be careful. We just talked about -” He cut you off with a kiss  - just a quick press of his lips to yours, but it was enough to stop your speech. 
“I’ll fix it.” Mumbling the words against your mouth, he wound his arms around you. “Give me some time.” 
You didn’t know what he meant by “fix it”, but when you’d left fifteen minutes later, Din assuring you that it was fine for you to go, he’d watched from his front window, waving at you while you backed out of the driveway. 
You’d spent the remainder of Sunday worrying, though you hadn’t reached out because you figured that you’d either see him at work the next day, or he’d get ahold of you to give you an update. Neither had happened, which was what brought you to his office door once things had calmed down in your afternoon … and led you to the realization that he hadn’t come in. 
Against your better judgment, you pulled your phone out to stare at it,  trying to decide whether or not you wanted to text him. He’s not mad. The worst he can do is ignore the message. It would crush you to know that that’s what he was doing, but you didn’t think Din would shut you out - and so you typed a quick message, hastily shoving your phone back into your pocket when you were done. 
Hey. Just tried to go to your office and saw you’re not here. Hope everything’s alright. 
Keeping yourself busy, you didn’t check for replies until almost an hour later, the weight lifting from your chest when you saw his response. 
Working on it. Was going to let you know but I’ve been on the phone all morning. 
That made sense - if Mandalore was in a different time zone, he’d need to take care of things whenever was convenient for everyone involved - which meant making things work across an ocean. It wasn’t an explanation, but it also wasn’t a dismissal, and that was enough. 
Just before you stepped out of your office to meet with a coworker about a project, your phone vibrated again. 
Can I stop over tonight after you’re done with work? 
You didn’t even think about it - typing back a message immediately. 
Of course. Bring Grogu if you want. My yard’s fenced in. 
He sent back a thumbs up, and you stowed your phone and locked your office door, trying to push your growing anxiety down. It’s going to be fine. It’s got to be. 
— 
He showed up at a little after 6, the man standing on your doorstep with Grogu’s leash in one hand and a take out bag in the other, and with no hesitation, you let them both in. “You didn’t need to bring dinner. I was just going to make -”
“Now you don’t have to.” He set the bag down and unclipped Grogu’s leash from his collar, hanging it over the back of one chair. “I guessed about what you like, so I hope that I did alright.” He held the bag out to you and you took it from him, eyeing the contents.
“Looks good, Din.” Pausing to glance up, you bit your lip. “Plates? Or just eating out of the containers?” 
“Is that something you do here?” You laughed at the sincerity of his question, Din’s lips set into a frown. “I didn’t know that.” 
“Sometimes.” You shrugged. “But if we wanted to share, it’s easier to use plates.”
“Whatever’s easier for you.” He ran a hand through his hair, unblinking. “Can I help you with anything?”
You told him no, and only a few minutes later, the two of you were seated on your couch and using the coffee table to eat from, your tree and the TV the only lights on in the room. 
You ate in silence for a little while, Din only speaking to tell Grogu no when he tried to jump on your loveseat. “It’s fine, he can lay there.” You were smiling at the sight - the dog standing in front of your tree, backlit by the bright lights. “It’s just dog hair, Din. As long as he doesn’t chew the cushion, I don’t mind.” 
“Maela, Grogu.” Din’s voice was quiet, but as soon as he spoke, the dog jumped up and onto the furniture, curling up so that he could still watch as the two of you ate. “I’m really sorry I didn’t let you know I wouldn’t be in today. I was on the phone with Boba for hours last night, and then this morning, I had a call with him and Fennec and the Council, and then we had to -”
“You don’t need to explain.” Swallowing a bite, you shook your head. “As long as you got things taken care of, you don’t owe me an explanation.” 
“I do, though.” He set his fork down, turning his body toward you and resting his hands on his knees. “Because this involves you. Have you looked at the site today?” You hadn’t - though the page was still open on your phone, you hadn’t refreshed it. “Go ahead.” 
Pulling your phone from your pocket, you did what he asked - refreshing the page. The pictures were still there - people gathered by the gazebo, all of you beneath the warming tent before the competition started, the different teams throughout the night. Why is he making me… But when you got to the pictures from after the end of the competition, you were shocked to see that even though the one of you and Din and the snowmen was there… the one of you kissing was gone - and so was his name. “It’s gone.” Looking up, you widened your eyes. “Din, how did -”
“A lot of phone calls. A lot of explanations.” He sighed, rubbing at his forehead, and for the first time, you realized how exhausted he looked. “The event organizers were much more understanding than I thought they’d be, but I’m also almost positive they never thought they’d have a King calling them, so…” You laughed at that, wetting your lips and waiting. “Have you heard anything from any of your friends? Did any of them see it?”
“Not that I know of.” You’d texted both Stacy and Cara to catch up that morning, and neither of them had said a word about seeing a picture of you and Din kissing. “And my friends would have been the first to say something if they’d seen it. I don’t know about the rest of the town, but -”
“The page views were really low after they uploaded. They didn’t even post anything until yesterday morning, so I think we caught it pretty fast.” He scooted closer. “I have to be careful, though. Really careful moving forward, because even though Boba understands, he wasn’t …”
“I know, Din.” You tilted your head. “I didn’t even save it, so if it’s not on that site, then … then it might as well never have existed.” I should have saved it. 
“Oh, it existed.” He reached for you, his fingers trailing over yours. “I’m sorry that I had to have it deleted. I don’t … I don’t like the idea of …” You knew what he was trying to say, and could tell that he was having trouble getting the words out, so you saved him, moving closer and putting your free hand on his knee. 
“I know why you did it.” You met his eyes, holding his gaze. “You don’t have to explain that part to me. I’m just glad you didn’t get in trouble with Boba.” 
“Trouble? Nah. No way.” He grinned. “And it wouldn’t really even be trouble, it would just be … more explanations if the Mandalorian press got ahold of it - now or later.”
“Yeah, especially if I’m not in Mandalore with you, right?” You squeezed his hand. “I get it, Din.  It’s what we’d consider a wake up call over here. Actions have consequences, and -” He said your name, shoulders rising and falling. “What?” 
“Why are you so understanding about all of this? The secrecy, me being next in line to rule, the limited time we have… it’s a lot to take in, and you’re just … acting like it’s nothing.” 
“What do you want me to do?” You snapped at him, the reaction an unconscious - but immediate - one. “Get mad about it? Tell you that you need to make a choice between doing what you’re obligated to do and me, someone that you’ve only really known for a few weeks? Try to make you feel guilty for doing exactly what we agreed we’d do?” You pushed to your feet, moving away from the couch. “Believe me, I want to, Din. I want to look you in the eye and tell you how unbelievably unfair this is - how shitty it’s going to be when you tell me that this has to end because you’re going back home.” You spun back to face him, the man frozen in place on your couch and looking up at you with wide eyes. 
He looked beautiful in the low light of the room and it gave you pause, your anger and frustration abating slightly before it rushed back full force. But it’s the truth. And he asked. 
“It’s not nothing, Din. But if I let myself get emotional about this, all it’s going to do is make us feel worse and give us more of a reason to cut this off as soon as the competition ends instead of in a few months.” You wiped away a tear, squeezing your eyes shut. “And I definitely don’t want that because I’d rather have a few months more with you than nothing at all.” 
Din stood, fingers flexing as his arms hung by his sides, but he didn’t move closer to you. He wanted to - you could tell by his posture. But at the look on his face, you understood that he wouldn’t, because he didn’t know what to say or do after he did. Yeah, I don’t know either. 
“I shouldn’t have asked you to be my partner.” You covered your face with one hand, lowering your head. “But fuck, Din, I wanted to get to know you. And because I was attracted to you even when I was with James, it felt disrespectful to do it before we broke up. Not because I would have acted on it, but -”
“You … were attracted to me before?” He did step closer at that, surprise written all over his face. “I had no idea.” 
“You’re a good looking guy, Din. Physically, yes. I thought you were very attractive. And we didn’t talk much, but from what I knew of you, you seemed … nice. And you’re smart, and like I said, I wouldn’t have done anything about it when I was with someone else, so…” Sighing you rubbed at your temples. “So I was respectful of James and our relationship, and did what every other woman in the office did and admired you from afar.” Trying to crack a smile, you shrugged. “Kept the work days interesting, that’s for sure.” 
Din closed the distance between you, reaching out and waiting until you’d taken his hand to speak. “I know you’d never ask me to choose. And it is unfair, and it is going to be kriffing awful when I have to go back, but I’m glad you asked me.” He squeezed your hand, raising his other one and dragging his knuckles over your cheek slowly. “Because these last few weeks have been … the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” Yeah, me too. “I hate seeing you so upset though. I’ve been… trying to make you smile.” 
“Yeah, well.” You rolled your eyes upward. “I’m horrible at hiding what I’m feeling, so get used to it.” He didn’t have a reply to that right away, the man keeping his eyes on your face. And the silence was charged - you could feel it. The two of you were at a tipping point; your irritation and sadness at odds with his cool and collected demeanor, Din’s posture loose as you stood in your living room, barely any space between you. 
It would have been easy to lean in and kiss him then - to give yourselves the moment you were so familiar with from TV and movies; emotions winning out, the physical pull toward each other too much to keep at bay any longer. 
You had condoms in your bedroom - an almost full box that had been purchased only a few months prior. Even though you didn’t want the first time you and Din got physical to be the result of an almost-argument, you could feel that neither of you would stop things once they got started. Should I? I shouldn’t. This is - 
“Not like this.” He murmured the words, groaning. “Every single thing you’ve said tonight is what I want to hear, but …” He swore under his breath - the words a mixture of English and Mando’a, the man straightening his fingers against the side of your face and cupping your cheek with his palm. “We are supposed to hide our emotions. And I’m pretty damn good at it, but with you, it’s… muun. It’s hard.”
“I’m sorry.” You had your hand on his hip, fingers tightening as you spoke. “Din, I didn’t mean to -”
“I’m not.” He tilted his head then, taking a deep breath. “And you shouldn’t be either.” His mouth glanced off of your cheek, the man’s mustache tickling your skin. “But we’d both be sorry if we let them get the best of us right now.” 
“That’s a nice way to say you don’t want to -” 
“Stop it.” He nearly growled the words, his grip on your hand tightening further. “You think it’s hard now? If we … You deserve better.” There was finality in his voice, and even though you were thankful for it, you were surprised. 
You weren’t used to men being the ones to shut down the progression of a physical relationship, but Din was - yet again - exceeding your expectations in every way. “So do you.” Wetting your lips, you lowered your head, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “We should finish dinner. Otherwise we’re just going to keep going around in circles, and … that won’t help anything.”
“It won’t.” He let go of your hand and then moved both of his to your arms, his thick fingers wrapping around your biceps. “I wish it wasn’t like this. You have no idea how much I wish you and I could… do this normally.” 
“That’s my luck.” You looked up at him, trying to smile - and succeeding, at least partially. “I’m just being dramatic, Din. It’ll be fine.” He didn’t look like he believed you, but the man nodded nonetheless, flexing his fingers before he let go. “Am I allowed to ask you what Boba said about the picture? And how should I refer to him? I don’t want to be disrespectful,and I know that I probably won’t ever meet him, but …”
“You can call him Boba when you and I talk about him.” The two of you settled back onto the couch, picking up your containers again. “And in public, I refer to him as Lord Fett, which is acceptable. You, as someone not from Mandalore, could call him either that or just Lord Mandalore. He isn’t very picky about it, but he keeps up with tradition when it comes to Mandalorian culture.” I’ll remember that. “And he was just … surprised. Especially since for the majority of the time I’ve been out here, I haven’t been interested in anyone like that.” 
“I find it hard to believe that you haven’t found anyone out here, Din.” Chewing thoughtfully, you waved your fork in his direction. “Eight months, and there was no one?” 
“I had drinks with a few people, but I never considered them dates.” He took another bite, glancing over at Grogu before he locked eyes with you. “I was just trying to enjoy my time here, and my last months of freedom, so dating never … I couldn’t run the risk of getting close to someone and then having to tell them about Mandalore and the fact that I had to leave.” But you told me.
“But there are people that get married in less than a year, Din. So if you’d met someone right when you got here, it wouldn’t be out of the question for you to tell them and then invite them back with you to keep the relationship going, right? Or is that not allowed? Does Mandalorian tradition require you - as someone on the throne - to marry within your -”
“No.” He set his food container down, dropping the fork into it. “We can marry whoever we want. Most people do choose to marry other Mandalorians, including people in positions of power, but there’s no laws that that has to happen. And …” He sighed. “There are political marriages, just like anywhere else. But they aren’t as common as you’d think, because the number of…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You don’t want to listen to this.”
“I do.” Reaching forward, you settled your hand on his knee. “Tell me, Din. I asked, and I wasn’t just doing it to be nice.” He was quiet for a few seconds and  then shifted on the couch, leaning back and getting comfortable before turning his head to look at you. 
“There aren’t a lot of noble families left in Mandalore, but there are a few, and everyone’s always looking to increase their influence, you know?” You nodded, though you stayed quiet. “It’s not like Game of Thrones where everyone’s trying to overthrow the Mand’alor and restructure the way the country’s run, but there are … families that we have to look out for, families that feel that the highest positons should be one determined by birthright.” 
“That makes sense.” You finished your dinner, too, mirroring his position as you leaned back. “But you said Boba isn’t married? So he avoided all of that?’
“He did. And I plan on doing the same, unless … unless I find someone that I want to marry - that can handle the requirements of my title and the demands of this kind of life on Mandalore.” He looked away, his eyes lingering on Grogu. “There’s not separate terms in Mandalorian for husband and wife - a partner is just called a riduur, and a wedding is a riduurok, and there hasn’t been one of those for the Mand’alor since before I was born. So I’m sure the people would love to see it, but …” Din sniffed. “It’s not something I need. I can be a good leader without a wife.”
“I’m sure you can.” Tracing over your lower lip with the tip of your thumb, you nodded. “And you don’t seem like the type that would settle for a political arrangement, Din. So I… I hope that never happens to you.” 
It wasn’t what you wanted to say. The idea of Din marrying anyone was enough to make your stomach twist uncomfortably in your belly, but there was no way you were going to tell him that. That’s too much. Even if we’re being honest with each other, that’s too much honesty. “There anything else you want to know?” 
“Yeah, a ton of things.” You laughed, running a hand over your hair as you exhaled. “But I think that’s enough for tonight.” 
“If you say so. I meant it the other night, though. You can ask me anything, and as long as I can tell you, I will. I won’t lie to you, but there are some things - “
“I get it.” Holding up a hand to stop him, you nodded. “No explanation necessary.” 
“Thank you for understanding. This is the Way. I wish … I wish it wasn’t, but …” The man trailed off, and for a few seconds, the room was almost completely quiet. You didn’t know how to fill the silence, and when Din spoke up again, you were thankful. “So, what’s the rest of this week look like? I know the scavenger hunt is the 23rd, but is there anything on Christmas Eve?”
“No. The 23rd is the last day of events, and the winners are announced that night at the Winter Carnival. We have from 11 am until 4 pm to complete the clues and turn everything in, and then while they tally up the points, we have time to go home and relax and get changed and all that before the carnival kicks off.” 
“So we’ll know who wins as soon as they announce the winner of the hunt, right?”
“Yes and no. They don’t always announce the rankings for the scavenger hunt before they announce the overall winner, because usually the winner of the hunt wins the contest, and that’s anticlimactic.” He grinned. “So they’ll probably tell us who won overall and then release the points for the different clues and the scoring for the day. We’ll know how many points we get, but it won’t be until we already know the outcome.” 
“And the carnival is only for that night?” You gave him a nod, staring at the man on the couch next to you. “Is it a real carnival?”
“No rides, but yes. There’s food and games and sleigh rides. There might be a band, depending on if they can find someone to play and what the weather’s like. It’s usually from 7 to midnight, but I don’t think I’ve stayed past ten in five years. They announce the winners between 8 and 8:30, so there’s not much reason to stay really late.” 
“Maybe we can have lunch together for the rest of the week.” Din sat straight up, blinking slowly. “We can come up with a list of possible clue answers, and -” Shit. He doesn’t know. 
“I’m… I’m actually not going to be there all week. Tomorrow’s my last day for the year, because I saved vacation time to take.” His face fell, the man’s eyes clouding over briefly. “I’ve gotta finish my last minute shopping, Din. I do this every year.” 
“Well, then we’ll have to get a lot done tomorrow.” He winked at you, the smile returning. “We’ll figure it out.” 
“Is it alright? With the picture, I didn’t want to push it, and -” 
“Yeah. It’s fine. We’re partners, so of course we’d have lunch together. I’m not worried about it.” He sighed. “I will not be kissing you in the cafeteria at work, though.”
“I think I’ll cope.” Wrinkling your nose, you held back a laugh. “It’ll be hard, but…” He leaned forward and wound his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest, the man laughing, too. It’ll be hard, but it it’ll be worth it. 
— 
You finished your Christmas shopping on December 22, right around the time you would have gotten off of work. The weather had held out - though there’d been snow overnight on Tuesday and Wednesday, it stopped in time to let you get things done, and you were thankful. 
Your final stop was a trip out to Peli Motto’s shop for a basket of assorted goodies for Grogu - more of the frogs that he’d had at the tree lighting along with something called a Bantha bone, a bag of dried meat treats, and toy that the woman assured you was chew-proof: a shiny silver ball with a ridge around the center to dispense treats that you loaded into the core via a dark blue circular opening. 
The woman threw in a small bag of freeze-dried shrimp that she’d promised he would love - “Bright eyes is gonna love these. I can tell. I know these things. He won’t want to stop eating them.Trust me on this and make sure that man who owns him brings him to see me next time.” 
Grogu’s present had been simple - but Din’s? That was a struggle. 
You hadn’t wanted to  get him anything big that he wouldn’t be able to take back with him. You didn’t want to spend too much on him, since you didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard, though you wanted to let him know that you were thinking of him. 
And so you’d put together a stocking for him, including a few practical things that had been the norm for you growing up - a new toothbrush, a pair of thick socks, complete with strands of Christmas lights on them, a tin of mints - along with a few other items like a gift card for the coffee place downtown, a replacement tube of the styling product you’d seen in his bathroom, a bag of assorted beef jerky … and the one thing you were still uncertain about. 
As you finished wrapping your presents later that night, you paused with his actual gift in your hands, staring down at it. It was more sentimental than you’d intended, but it was a good gift, and one that you knew he’d understand the significance of. 
You planned on giving him his and Grogu’s gifts the following night after the carnival, and telling him that he could open his then or wait until Christmas morning - but there was no part of you that assumed you’d see him on the actual holiday. Even though I want to ask him what he’s doing. If he’s going to be alone, I can … I can make it so that doesn’t happen. “Shit.” You set the gift down, covering your face with both hands. “He’ll say no.” 
Doing Christmas activities together was one thing, but actually spending the holiday together was another. Not only would it raise questions with your family so soon after your breakup, but it would mean needing to be careful with what you and Din said throughout the day… and that was something you were unsure you were ready for. 
So giving a gift - even one that was arguably heartfelt - was something that you could do, and you hoped that no matter where he was or who he was with, he’d take it with him so that he could remember his time in Mistletoe. 
You wrapped it in glittering silver paper, creasing the edges around the small box and carefully taping them shut before you tucked it into the stocking with everything else and carried both up to the kitchen table, setting them aside from the other wrapped gifts under the tree. 
Glancing at the clock, you groaned when you saw how late it was - and that you’d be rushing to finish getting ready in time to meet your friends unless you immediately got into the shower. 
Sending a quick text to Cara and Stacy, you eyed the stocking with Din’s name on it for a few more seconds while you waited for a reply, one finger idly running over the soft white fur of the trim. 
Getting ready to shower. Still meeting at 7:30? 
It would be the last time you saw them before the holiday, and the three of you were meeting to exchange gifts over dinner - and to gossip about everything that had happened since the last time you’d seen each other. 
Yep. There’s a pitcher of margaritas with my name on it. 
Laughing, you set your phone down and turned toward the bathroom, some of the unease leaving you. You needed the distraction - and even a few hours out with friends would help immensely. 
— 
“Can you believe it? She’s on her third job in the last two months. I don’t think she knows what she wants to do.” Cara held her drink in one hand, gesturing with the other. “I want to be supportive, but it’s really hard when I can’t even keep up with what she’s doing.” 
The three of you had finished dinner and exchanged gifts before switching over to the drinking portion of the night, and as always, Cara’s stories were full of updates from her life away from Mistletoe and the people she interacted with on a daily basis. 
You didn’t mind, because the more she talked, the less you had to, but you knew that it would eventually come back to you - and what you’d been doing with Din for the last few weeks. “So are you ready for the scavenger hunt tomorrow?” Stacy leaned in. “I can’t believe the competition’s almost over.”
“Yeah, neither can I. And yes, I think I am. Din and I met for lunch on Tuesday before I left work for the year and made a list of a bunch of the popular places in town that have been clues in the past, and -”
“Wait, so you haven’t talked to him since Tuesday?” Cara set her drink down, laying her palms flat on the table. “I’m shocked.” 
“Why?” You dipped a chip into the table’s salsa - the fourth refill that the three of you had requested - and popped it into your mouth. “It’s not like we’re dating. We don’t need to talk every single day.” It was the truth - you hadn’t actually spoken to Din since Tuesday but you had texted back and forth. “I’m going to call him when I leave here tonight though, we have to figure out where we’re meeting tomorrow morning.” 
“Because you two were getting close.” She leaned in. “I mean the two of you kissed, and -”
“Yeah, about that.” You drummed your fingers against the tabletop. I’m going to have to do this sooner or later, so why not now. “I found out why he put a stop to that the other night.” Both of your friends widened their eyes and waited, neither of them speaking to interrupt you. “He doesn’t want to get involved with anyone while he’s here because he isn’t staying. He’s going to have to go home in a couple months for work - not what he does here but what he did there before he took this time off.” 
It rolled off of your tongue smoothly, and you were proud that it wasn’t quite a lie, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “What did he do over there? His friend’s the King’s bodyguard, does Din -” 
“No. He doesn’t work for the King or anything like that.” You waved her off, eating another chip. “But he basically arranged to take a year or so off to be able to travel, and that year’s going to end.” Lifting your glass, you sipped your drink. “So it’s easier not to get involved when keeping something going is … next to impossible.”
“But you like each other.” Cara shook her head. “We can all see it.” 
“We do.” Shrugging, you looked away for a few seconds and then met her eyes again. “But we’re both being realistic.” 
“So after tomorrow, you’re just going to stop seeing each other? Just go back to whatever your friendship was before this competition? You’re going to skip out on -”
“Cara.” The woman was getting annoyed, her eyes flashing as she whipped her head from side to side. “No. But we were both very clear about what this is and what it can and can’t be. So … we’re going to be friends. And whatever happens with that happens, but I’m not under the impression that he’s staying around long term, and we both … we’re both alright with that.” Or at least that’s what we’re telling ourselves.
“Bullshit.” You had to admit that she was right - and it sounded incredibly false coming out of your mouth, but as long as you stuck to what you were saying, you thought you’d be alright. “God, that’s unfair.” 
“It is what it is.” Finishing your drink, you leaned back. “And like I told him, it might be better right now to know that there’s nothing long term on the table. This is easy, This is … what I need.” You wondered if you’d ever convince yourself that it was the truth, or if it would just be words coming out of your mouth, the same thing repeated long after Din had left for Mandalore. “It’s good, guys. We’re having fun together. We talked everything over on Saturday night and Sunday morning after the snowman c-”
“Sunday…morning?” Stacy raised an eyebrow. Shit. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”
“No. Well, yeah. I spent the night, but nothing happened. I went over to decorate the tree with him, and by the time we were done it was snowing really hard, and he offered me his spare room.” They didn’t need to know that you hadn’t used the bed, or that that night and morning had been a definite shift in your feelings for the man, despite everything you’d learned. “And I woke up the next morning, the streets were plowed, and after he shoveled his driveway, I went home.”
“I don’t know how you slept in the same house as him and didn’t try to jump his bones.” Stacy groaned. “I know I’m married, but he’s … he’s really good looking, and -”
“I know.” You glanced down at your phone, checking the time. “Believe me, it was hard, but all we did was sleep.” Cara muttered something under her breath that you didn’t catch, Stacy rubbing at her forehead while she stared at you. “You guys, I promise you. This is fine. I know where he stands, he knows where I stand, and this is just … fun. It’s two people getting to know each other without expectations.” But no expectations doesn’t mean there’s no feelings. 
“If you say so.” Cara tipped her head back finishing the last of her drink. “But you know we’ll always be here, right? If you ever want to talk, or ever want to tell us what he’s like in bed, or -”
“Believe me, if it ever comes to that, you’d be the first two people I talked to.” Winking at them, you started to gather your things. “I really do need to get going, though. I want to get to sleep early so that I’m not slow tomorrow.” 
All three of you stood, tossing money onto the table for a tip after you’d packed your presents up, Cara leading the way out of the restaurant and into the parking lot. She held the door open for a couple walking in as you exited, the red-haired woman giving you a nod and her dark haired companion thanking your friend as you passed them and stepped out into the parking lot - and the softly falling snow. 
A few steps into the parking lot, you paused, glancing back over your shoulder. I know her from somewhere. But they were already inside, the door shut behind them, and so you let out a breath, following your friends until you reached your cars. 
Once you’d said goodbye and exchanged one more round of “Merry Christmas” between you, you were seated in your car and waiting for it to warm up. You used that time to message Din, a smile on your lips as your fingers flew over the keys. 
Heading home from dinner now. Going to get to bed early. Want to meet at my place at 10 tomorrow? 
It didn’t take him long to answer, the reply short and simple. 
Sounds good. I’ll bring the coffee
As you typed out a reply, another message from Din came through. 
I hope you had a good night with your friends. You’ll have to tell me what you got tomorrow morning. 
In a perfect world, you would have sent back another message - telling him that you were on your way over and you could tell him that night. You would have asked if you could bring anything, or requested that he light a fire and pick a movie before you got there.
But instead, when you pulled into your driveway - and then into your garage, closing the door behind you before you stepped into the silent, dark house, you finally replied, closing your eyes to stop the tears from spilling over once the text had sent. 
Yeah. Just remind me tomorrow when we see each other. Goodnight, Din. 
— 
maela = go on
muun = hard
spouse = riduur
ridurrok = love bond (marriage)
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Tag list reblog coming soon! 
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