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#is the real thing as long as she doesn't look at what she left behind. then they should have gone FULL in on the orpheus and eurydice vibes
luv4jason · 3 days
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jason todd x fem!reader
3 in 1 ??
hi first post! (i don’t know what i’m doing)
One thing about dating Jason Todd — that man always has a hand on you. He has irrational fears of losing you, or you leaving him (you’d never). He knows they’re irrational, but can’t help it.
Physical contact with you keeps him grounded. He almost has to continue reminding himself that you're real, that you're not going anywhere. You're actually his as he is yours.
-
Jason begrudgingly lets you drag him to a bar for a night out. It's not really your scene, definitely not his either, but nonetheless he agreed to tag along when you told him your friends from GCU invited you.
Approaching the bar, he stands behind you. You're showing your ID to the bouncer with your right hand, and the left behind you intertwined with Jason's. He gently rubs his thumb over your skin as he watches the bouncer check your card.
Jason's eyes narrow when the bouncer's gaze lands back on your face, then dropping down your tight-fitting dress. Jason could've sworn he saw the guy's lip twitch into a small smirk.
Sure, maybe he was just doing his job. But Jason watched him hardly spare a glance at the ID's of the people before you both. Maybe Jason was just overprotective.. or overthinking. Either way, the interaction didn't sit right with him.
Jason adjusts his posture, removing his hand from yours and sliding it around your waist instead. His large palm rests on your lower stomach possessively, sharp green eyes staring down the bouncer. You feel the hard planes of Jason's chest pressed against your back, and the bouncer notices the change in demeanor immediately.
Cleaning his throat, the poor guy spares Jason a quick nervous glance, handing back your card, and barely checking Jason's within a couple seconds. Jason doesn't hesitate to shoot him a glare before following you into the noisy bar.
The rest of the night, your boyfriend is glued to your side. He enjoyed watching you have fun and meeting a few of your friends from class.
Let's face it — he liked anything related to you.
His hand alternated between holding yours or resting on the small of your back. Or you’d prefer to hold his bicep, leaning on him as you listened to the story one of your wasted friends went on about. Jason felt like his skin was buzzing where your delicate fingers held onto him. He hadn’t listened to word she said, way too focused on the feeling of your touch. The feeling of you wanting to be so close him, just as he craves.
Every so often he would check on you, knowing your social battery didn't last long, similar to his.
Leaning down, his lips would just barely graze your ear. He'd whisper something like; "How're you feeling, baby?" or, "You having fun?"
Along with reminding you how beautiful you looked, or how he couldn't wait to get you alone. And once you both were back in your apartment, he was sure to prove just how patient he was earlier.
-
Jason always needed to be touching you when sleeping. It was non-negotiable.
He’d come home late from patrol — always sure to get a quick shower, before slipping on some boxers and sliding into bed next to you. Being a light sleeper, you’d wake up instantly. But Jason would start right away with peppering your sweet face with little kisses.
“Shh, sweetheart. I’m home. Go back to sleep, okay?”
You’d relax once again, letting his strong arms pull you into a comforting embrace. And it doesn’t take long before Jason’s warmth lulls you back to sleep.
His favorite way to sleep was with your body tucked right up against his chest, and his arm snug around your torso. Or simply you laying on him like a weighted blanket.
He’d absentmindedly run his fingers along your scalp, relishing in how your freshly-washed, silky hair felt against his hand. Every part of you was so soft, it drove him crazy. How could he not want to touch you 24/7?
And once he noticed your breathing start to slow and even out, he wouldn’t dare move a muscle.
Jason would focus on syncing his breaths with your own, and in doing so he'd pass out within minutes. He swore he got the best sleep every time.
Yet, you both got hot in the night — especially during the summer.. and the few times the AC broke. So even with some space between you two, his palm would always find some part of your body. It was Jason's way of making sure you were still there. So he could still feel your chest rise and fall, or the rhythmic thumping of your pulse. And again he'd preform the ritual of matching his breath to yours until sleep took him.
-
In the mornings, Jason would reach out for you, always wanting to tuck you right back into his embrace. But on the days when he'd be met with cold sheets, your boyfriend would jolt awake, panicking for half a second. Only before hearing the shower running or the clinking of dishes in the kitchen. Jason would then relax, reminding himself you didn't go anywhere and that you're okay.
He is sure to join you — whether he finds you in the bathroom or kitchen.
Without a word, he's undressing and stepping under the water, pulling your backside flush against him.
"Missed you." His tired and gravelly voice sounds against your ear, "Should've woke me, baby. Almost gave me a heart attack when I saw you weren't in bed.”
Jason plants a kiss to your neck before pressing his nose against your skin, nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder. You smile to yourself, reaching up behind you to rake a hand through his raven hair.
"I'm sorry, Jay.. you got back from patrol so late I thought you'd need the sleep." You tell him, and turn around to face him. You slide your arms around his neck and he tilts his head to kiss your forearm.
"Mm.. would rather be with you." He mumbles, "I can catch up on sleep later."
Jason's large hands snake around your waist, gaze dropping from your face to your breasts, then the curve of your torso. His eyes lingered for a moment before he reached for your vanilla scented body wash.
Washing you in the shower may have been just another excuse to get his hands on you. But, Jason simply loved taking care of you. He'd motion for you to turn around before lathering the soap on your back, and gently over the rest of your skin. His rough and calloused palms moved tenderly, always sure to only touch you with the lightest hand.
On other mornings, he'll find you in the kitchen. Maybe making some breakfast or just a coffee.
He saunters over to you, and you catch a glimpse of his tall frame in your peripheral, shirtless, but wearing his favorite dark grey sweats.
"Morning, Jase." You glance up at him, holding back a giggle at how his eyes are still a little puffy from sleep, his white tuft of hair hanging over them.
You're stirring some pancake mix up, adorned with many small chocolate chips the way you like it.
The corners of his lips curl up slightly, his eyes dropping to your shirt. Or, more like his shirt. It reaches your mid-thigh, and Jason lifts a hand to tug at the fabric.
"This looks familiar."
You roll your eyes playfully. "Does it?" You turn to face the stove, pouring your chocolate chip pancake batter onto a heated pan. 
Jason steps up behind you, hands slipping under the shirt to rest on the bare skin of your hips. Long fingers toy with the lace of your panties which lay on your hipbones. He dips his head down, chin now resting on your shoulder.
"You look good in it." He emphasizes his words with a little squeeze to your waist, making you jump slightly. Jason chuckles low in your ear at that reaction.
"My girl's so sensitive.." He teases, and you elbow him lightly in response.
As you continue making breakfast, Jason’s touch travels up your stomach and then back down to your thighs.
He’ll murmur something about how soft your skin is. Or how good the food smells. You knew Jason was a better cook than you. But he’d never admit that. He loved everything you’d make for him. Hell, if you made him a burnt piece of toast he’d guzzle it down and tell you it was the best he’s ever had.
Occasionally, he’s taking his hands off you to assist you with something. As he passes you on his way to the fridge for some eggs, he'll be sure to pop a quick kiss on the top of your head, and again when he’s coming back too.
He's always reminding you of the love he feels for you. It manifests in small physical actions: a kiss to your skin, a hand on your waist, a squeeze to your backside.
It’s like Jason just can’t help it — can’t contain himself. He’s bursting at the edges with love for you. And he may not be the best at verbally expressing it, but you never have to question how he feels.
He’ll show you subconsciously every day, within every little touch.
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weidli · 2 months
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EURYDICE: You're early. ORPHEUS: I missed you.
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wndaswife · 4 months
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trying your hardest | wanda maximoff & gn!reader
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After moving to America to join the Avengers, Wanda wants to finally make a friend to ease her loneliness. She hopes to become friends with you, and frankly, Wanda idolizes you, but her social skills are... subpar at best.
Word count: 5020
Tags: fluff, humour, some angst, emo wanda being a baby, a little thing, a small very tiny little thing, wanda has a very big crush on you :3 (she doesn't know it yet tho cuz she baby)
A/N: for plot purposes, imagine the avengers didn’t have a catfight after aou
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gif credit to (i tried really hard and i CANNOT find who made this gif im sorry)
Wanda Maximoff never really had an education as a child. What education was available in Sokovia was expensive, and despite her father’s late working hours, the twins’ parents could only ever afford their apartment’s rent. The twins were homeschooled as well as their parents could teach them, but after the bombing, they were on their own. 
Government-funded schooling helped them for only so long. The schools they were sent to were decaying, and always under dwindling government watch from ongoing airstrikes. The ground shook with explosive tremors as they commuted to school on foot. Wanda and Pietro stayed at an orphanage with hundreds of other children whose parents had passed due to the war — and the Avengers. 
Even the government’s debt caught up with what was left of Sokovia. Billions of foreign debt not paid, volume of imports that had increased exponentially since Sokovia worked on rebuilding their country weren’t making enough revenue to pay exporters back. Hundreds of children were booted from government care and onto the streets. The twins attempted to learn on their own, to become informed educated people if they were to ever make a difference in the world, but in Sokovia, even resilience could only get one so far.
Then, Doctor Strucker came along, promising them the extermination of the Avengers, the Western terrorists who had made the already politically-unstable and war-torn country their battleground. 
In hopes to cure the world from their terrorist reign, both Wanda and Pietro agreed to Strucker’s experiments, but the education they were given intended for them to become weapons. They knew little of real geography and world history — only HYDRA’s propaganda meant to poison their minds with blind hatred and little else.
When it seemed like you couldn’t be any more different from Wanda as it was, you were also the team’s brain. Stark and Banner specialised in physics and mechanics, but you were the team’s hub for everything else. From computer science to philosophy, you knew everything. No one exceeded you in developing team strategy, setting the stages for mission locations, profiling adversaries, and a dozen of other things Wanda couldn’t have even fathomed when she first met the Avengers in person.
It took Wanda only several moments to realise you weren’t a frontline fighter from your muffled voice in the Avengers’ earpieces to their callouts of your name as frequent, and perhaps even moreso, than their teammates that fought alongside them on the field despite your physical absence. 
Y/N — that was your name. 
When she had fought the Avengers in Novi Grad, creeping behind the Western superpowers like a heavy looming shadow, Wanda had looked for you. Strategically, it was a rational move. You were the centre of their battle, the heart of their teamwork.
And yet, you were nowhere to be found.
It was only until she had crept up behind Clint Barton when your voice grew clearer than ever before. From the tiny earpiece, you were controlling the field. Perhaps you were just outside, or maybe you were in another country. No matter the distance, Wanda supposed your hold on the battle would be no less effective. 
It was the distraction of thinking about you, perhaps — Y/N, the invisible hand — or Barton’s sole intuition, Wanda did not know, nor did she have very much time to think it over, that had made it possible for him to counter her magic. 
Then there was pain — immeasurable pain that Wanda hadn’t felt since Strucker’s experiments. It shot through her forehead like a dozen bullets had permeated through her skull. Pietro grounded her, and soon after, the twins targeted Banner.
Despite the rumours about him, the insatiable angry force he was told to be, his mind was the easiest to corrupt. Mental instability and insecurity racked his mind, and he quickly shifted into the green beast the Maximoffs had heard so much about. 
Carrying his younger sister, Pietro took the two of them back to Ultron’s base. 
They had won that day.
You were all Wanda could think about even while she and Pietro were off missions. You weren’t the Avengers’ frontline defence like Steve Rogers, nor were you the brute strength of the team like Bruce Banner. You held your team in your hands rather than tugging them along by their leashes although you likely could if you wanted to.
Y/N. 
Who were you?
On the television after the fight on Novi Grad, Iron Man and Hulk’s brawl in Johannesburg was on the news. The city was in shambles. Pietro said something about the deaths of innocents and the success of his sister’s magic in having the Avengers turn against themselves. But Wanda could only think of what you had thought when Stark and Banner came back to their compound, beaten and sore from none other than their own fists. Wanda assumed the Avengers’ compound — wherever that was — was where you were too. 
Wanda wondered how you were dealing with the fight at Johannesburg. What were you saying about her and Pietro?
Later that day, Ultron approached the twins in their bedroom and turned on the television. Despite having been offered separate bedrooms, they insisted on sharing one. Sitting atop their respective beds on the opposite sides of the room, there was someone speaking on the television about Johannesburg across from the interviewer. Their expression was stern but their eyes were solemn. Eyebrows were furrowed together, masking concern and worry; if Wanda knew anything, it was how to read someone.
“Y/N,” the interviewer began, and Wanda’s eyes widened, her head lifting from being held up by her hands, elbows on her pillow as it laid flat atop her crossed legs. “As the Avengers’ strategist, as many put it, how are you planning on handling the devastation that came upon Johannesburg, and the inevitable contact that the Avengers will continue to have with innocent uninvolved civilians?”
The question was packed, and the news station quite clearly had their own sentiments about the Avengers; they were setting you up.
So that was how you looked. Wanda swallowed and felt her chest flutter.
With your upper lip stiff and your posture unbelievably straight, you answered without equivocation. “A common misinformed perspective of any conflict follows the belief that there is any one party entirely responsible for the consequences of violent confrontation, such as the one we witnessed in Johannesburg,” you were saying. With the way her wide eyes were pinned on the television screen, Wanda didn’t notice the way her brother eyed her obviously peaked interest.
“I don’t believe the Avengers are the world’s most honourable superheroes,” you continued. Ultron shifted and Wanda’s head tipped to the side, her interest in you ever growing. “I don’t think anyone is, no matter whose side you’ve taken since the conflict recently — and perhaps even after the invasion of New York’s in 2012.”
That was The Incident, Wanda recalled, when the Avengers terrorised New York. That’s what HYDRA had always told her and Pietro.
“Despite whose side you may be on, as differing as our collective opinions may be, one thing is undeniable — we are all trying to reach a goal of peace for the world, fighting for what we believe is just. There is nothing more powerful than that. Perhaps, it is idealism that serves to be the strength of humanity.”
Ultron laughed morosely. He ridiculed your words, but Wanda wasn’t listening. Whatever you were talking about wasn’t only about Johannesburg. What were you referencing? Who were your words meant for?
Suddenly, your head turned to the camera and Wanda met your eyes. Everything in her froze, her eyes undeviating from your face.
“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,” you spoke. Pietro looked over at Wanda, shock written on every inch of his face, and Ultron’s eyes darted between the twins, almost accusationally as he undoubtedly suspected coercion. Wanda almost expected you to step through the television screen and into her bedroom. “I know what you want.”
The screen was shut off suddenly, the black mirror of the television reflecting Wanda’s astonished expression. She looked away, shutting her eyes as she felt the burning gaze of Ultron on her. But your words reverberated in Wanda’s mind until your every feature and movement of your lips was memorised. Like a promise, like an ode, your words were immortalised within her.
Pietro wasn’t there when you took Wanda in your arms and saved her from a falling Sokovia. He wasn’t there when you laid her down onto the Helicarrier, nor when you took her hand and told her she’d be taken care of. Wanda cried into your chest at the sight of her brother’s body.
What would he have said if he saw the way your arm refused to leave from around Wanda’s shoulders as the two of them trailed behind his body while he was carried into the compound?
Pietro liked you, and would’ve loved to meet you. He referenced your broadcasted interview several times during their fight in Sokovia. He was proud to work with the Avengers, and proud to finally work towards their goal to help people just like them. He wanted to meet you.
Your voice was different from what Wanda remembered from the broadcast, and not because her memory had failed her, but because you were just… different. You were real, and not a picture on a wall or an untouchable reality forever separated from her by a television screen. As she watched you talk and laugh with the other Avengers, you were real.
But if Wanda was honest, she was much too shy to even start a conversation with you. Perhaps it might’ve been easier to approach you if you were an admired character on one of her favourite television shows, but it was exactly what made her admire you so much that also made her feel so shy around you. 
Granted, there was much to adjust to now that she lived in America and was now a part of the Avengers, and she did believe herself to be a generally introverted person, but she was especially nervous around you.
Wanda had gotten enough confidence to speak with some team members. Natasha was welcoming and kind. Thor was easy not to feel nervous around, but his energy was far too much for Wanda to handle just yet. Bruce was much more comfortable to chat with, and Wanda found that he was able to be rather nice once he forgave her for her associations with Ultron. Steve was always very kind to Wanda and she felt very safe around him, with Steve always trying to make her feel like part of the team, but she found that they didn’t have very much in common.
And there was Vision, who seemed to have taken a liking to her since even before the final battle against Ultron. He was nice company, but she found her mind preoccupied thinking of you while in his company, wishing that it was you who gave her as much attention as Vision did.
However, she’d been wanting to start a conversation with you since the day she arrived at the compound. Initially, she needed time to herself, and along with Steve, you also made the effort to check in on her and give her your support.
Once she was finally able to gain some footing in adjusting to things while shouldering the weight of her losses, Wanda started becoming more active within the team by joining training sessions. During them, she found herself unable to stop looking at you, watching what you were doing, seeing how you interacted with everyone.
Even as the Avengers’ primary strategist that was almost never in the field, you still made efforts to train and stay connected and involved with the team — and Wanda quickly learned that training was a major part of team building.
You were everything Wanda wished she could be more like; you were the kind of person she had never thought existed in a world she believed was only full of cruelty and injustice until recently.
There was an upcoming party at the Avengers Tower in celebration of the assigned team’s return from a successful mission tracking down a recently-located HYDRA base still hiding out. It was almost any ordinary mission, but it was the first step towards steadily eradicating all of HYDRA’s bases, even after Strucker’s primary base was taken down in Sokovia. Though Steve did also tell Wanda that he felt that Tony also primarily wanted to find any reason to celebrate since it’d been some time.
Wanda hadn’t been to any of the parties yet, and she thought that she’d be able to use this one as a chance to start a conversation with you. 
Wasn’t that what people did at parties? Talk?
Truthfully, she didn’t quite know for sure — she’d only ever heard about them through the sitcoms she watched as a child. She knew only of dramatised American portrayals of teenage parties through television.
Whatever it was people actually did at parties, Wanda was certain she would be able to make some effort to talk to you. At least in a social setting, it wouldn’t be strange for her to start a conversation with you.
Wanda made herself look nice and presentable, but not too formal since she didn’t want to overdress or bring too much attention to herself. She wasn’t sure what might happen if her plan to talk with you didn’t end up working, and if she was somehow left with nothing to do, she wanted to be able to slip away without anyone noticing, as if she had never made any attempt to come at all.
While deliberating whether it was better to arrive on time or a bit later once the party had been going on for some time, Wanda realised that at some point too much time had passed and her only option now was to join the party a bit later. 
It was only once she arrived at the penthouse floor where the party was being held that Wanda finally realised how terribly  thought-out her plan was.
What would happen if she didn’t get to talk with you? What would happen if she did, and she only made a fool of herself? Would it be better, then, to stay as two people who’d never conversed so that she might retain what impression you had of her now? Even if that meant she would never get to talk with you the way she wanted?
It was far too late now to change her mind if she wanted to, as she soon found herself walking further from the elevators and into the party. 
The party was rather filled; mostly, they were familiar faces, but it looked like many brought guests, and some guests had brought some of their own. It seemed that Steve was right — atop of celebrating the taking down of the HYDRA base, this was also a social get-together. 
She was still relatively at the edges of the room, so she was still going unnoticed. As she walked over to the bar, fidgeting with her fingers as she did, she took the time to look around and try to spot you. She reached the bar, crossing her forearms on top of its counter, and tried to draw the least attention to herself while avoiding eye contact with anyone as her eyes raked through the crowd. 
Eventually she caught sight of you also at the bar, but at the very edge with your own drink, your back facing the party. Wanda’s chest fluttered and she felt she nearly stumbled moving one foot in front of the other when she turned to walk towards you. 
She worried what would happen if someone suddenly approached you from behind, which would force her to then stop wherever she was standing and pretend she hadn’t just failed at her attempt to come up to you. 
The pressing concern aided her greatly, and she was well on her way to coming up to you without hesitation. But once she actually made her way to your side and once you raised your head from your glass and looked at her, Wanda damned herself for being so distracted, now without a plan or even a terribly-planned script to follow in making conversation with you. She didn’t even get to look at what you were wearing. 
It would be too strange of her to look you up and down before greeting you, right?
“Hi,” she said, hoping that the small smile she felt on her face was actually there lest she look like an absolute fool.
You turned around in your seat in order to face her, and now having your complete, undivided attention made Wanda’s legs feel like mush. “Hi,” you replied with a friendly smile. “Are you enjoying yourself? I don’t think I’ve seen you at a party yet.”
Wanda swallowed and nervously drew shapes against the bar counter with her fingernails, also trying her best to maintain a steady, friendly smile. “No — this is the first I’ve gone to. I haven’t been here for very long. I decided only a moment ago to come.”
“I’m glad you chose to come,” you told her and suggested for her to take the barstool beside you. Wanda lifted herself onto the seat and sat, facing you.
While you were talking, Wanda took the chance to look at what you were wearing. You looked nice, and Wanda thought you always dressed in a way that put-together, respected people did. She saw you in some likeness to the well-dressed characters on the sitcoms she liked — but, of course, modern. 
Maybe she had been taking too long to respond, for you spoke again: “How have you been doing? I know that the move must have been rather hard to go through.”
When she took a moment to respond and found that a response wasn’t immediately escaping her, Wanda felt panic settle in her chest. She knew she should have planned out what to say. She looked like an idiot in front of you. She didn’t know the first thing about socialising or making friends. 
“It was hard,” she said finally. “It is hard. Not so bad now. I mean, I’m trying to adjust.”
You nodded in understanding and Wanda felt herself losing your interest; she was sure that your responses’ intentions were now only to remain polite, to keep conversing with her because you knew she didn’t make very much effort to go out. 
Then you asked, “Did you want me to order you a drink?”
“Oh, I’m okay — I don’t drink,” Wanda answered, fidgeting with her fingers between her knees. Truthfully, she’s never tried alcohol before. Maybe she should have taken you up on your offer. 
“How have you been getting along with the team?”
“I think well. I like everyone. They’ve been very kind to me,” Wanda said. She could hear herself as she spoke to you; she sounded robotic and uninteresting. She thought she might try her hand at being honest about what she was thinking then and there. “But Pietro was always the most social of us both. It is hard to get along with others without him leading the conversation.”
Wanda must have not noticed how solemn she became after she mentioned Pietro, for you reached out and brushed her shoulder with your hand supportively, your fingers squeezing gently around her and lingering for a moment before letting your arm drop.
“I understand,” you sympathised. “You don’t need to pressure yourself into anything — really. I think you fit in here well, and I think you’ve been doing a wonderful job.”
That was the first time anyone truly supported Wanda like that; she was supported by the team as she was grieving the loss of her brother, always being told that she had a shoulder to cry on or a helping hand if she ever wanted someone to talk to. 
There was something frustrating about the way the team approached her grief. They had to have anticipated that she would feel a bit better at some point — or at least well enough to get back to team member material. 
In the way she was spoken to, Pietro and her struggles with his death were always approached as something she would get over at some point or another — like Pietro was something she was going to get over. She didn’t expect anyone to understand how she felt nor to share in her grievances, but it seemed to her that what she was going through was seen only as a temporary distraction to the rest of the team. 
They were kind in giving her their support, but her grief never seemed quite real enough to them. 
Granted, she was rather new to the team, so she understood, to some degree, their inability to understand her pain. But it was frustrating, nevertheless. 
But with you, it was different. 
You didn’t talk about Pietro or her struggles and pain like it was something to get over. You valued her as she was now, and saw her efforts as they were now. 
Wanda felt slightly pathetic for how worked up she was getting over your response, be it as brief as it was, but what you said meant quite a lot to her. She felt, for the first time, that she was being spoken to as a real person rather than a ball of temporary grief and pain. 
“Thank you… I really appreciate–”
She was cut off when you were called to meet one of Tony’s friends, an expert in software development who had even helped program some of the software you used for communication with the team while they were working on the field. Naturally, they wanted the two of you to meet. 
For a moment, Wanda forgot how popular you were amongst your colleagues. Why wouldn’t you be? It was only that you had a certain kindness and authenticity about you that seemed signature to you. But if Wanda admired that about you, and if she idolised you, why wouldn’t anyone else?
You looked at Tony calling you over then at Wanda, who was awkwardly staring at the floor in some pitiful stance of defeat. It made your chest tighten.
This was Wanda’s first time joining in at one of the parties, and you were the first she spoke to. Moreover, there was a kind of sensitivity to her that you knew lay beyond her typical timidity.
Through the conversation with her, you could vaguely see Wanda’s eyes flickering behind your shoulder occasionally, where the floor’s balcony was. From there, one would have a view of the spacious training fields and the expansive forests beyond that separated the base from the main roads.
Tonight, there were clear skies and a rather prominent moon. 
Gently, you tapped the back of Wanda’s hand that was resting on the edge of the bar to get her attention, and she raised her head and met your eyes. 
“Would you like to step out onto the balcony with me?” you asked. “I’m not quite in the mood to talk with them right now.”
Wanda seemed to perk up and she straightened in her seat. She nodded, and when you stepped off from your barstool, she followed and trailed behind you as you headed for the balcony. 
She watched from behind as you led her forward. She played idly with the tips of her fingers as she watched your hair brush against your back, watching the back of your head attentively as if it could tell her anything about you. 
Frankly, she felt a bit starstruck.
A certain panic settled within her as you opened the balcony door and ushered Wanda outside and into the warm evening air; she didn’t know what to say now. 
She wasn’t certain if she was interesting enough at all to have such intimate conversation with. 
What could she say that could possibly be of interest to you?
In spite of the disappointed chatter and lighthearted jabs from the rest of the team in response to your very-obvious aversion to socialising, you closed the balcony door behind you until it clicked shut softly until it was only you and Wanda outside. 
“Is it okay that you’re out here with me?” Wanda asked, looking at you as she stepped beside you. 
“Of course,” you answered and walked forward until you could stand against the rails of the balcony. “Why not?”
Wanda appreciated how easy it was to talk with you, and how your relationship with the team wasn’t all that you were. “I thought that maybe you might prefer being out there.”
“No — I want to be here.”
Wanda flushed and she looked away, using the excuse of looking out past the training fields as an excuse to hide her face from you. 
Making a bold move, Wanda thought that she might be honest with you; she had the real opportunity to make a friend, granted she pulled it off. “Y/N, I really appreciate you being so kind to me.” She garnered some confidence and turned her body and looked at you.
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you replied bashfully, and Wanda noticed that you also seemed a bit timid. She thought you were sensitive, and she liked that.
“But also,” Wanda added, taking in a small breath, “I really appreciate your effort in being sympathetic towards Pietro and I, even when we did not deserve it — especially after Johannesburg. Before your interview broadcast, I had never known of such kindness. It seemed you knew more about what Pietro and I wanted before even we did.”
Without a thought behind it, Wanda’s eyes left yours and she added, “I wish he was able to meet you. I am sure he would have felt equally as stunned by you.”
You asked, “I stun you now, do I?”
Surprised by the realisation of what she said aloud, Wanda looked at you and at the sight of your slight smile, also realised that you were teasing her. She flushed and rubbed her warm cheek with the back of her knuckle and distracted herself with two of the party guests walking through the field.
Wanda reminded herself that she came to make a friend — to be friends with you. So she spoke again. “To be honest, yes,” she replied. “I think you are admirable; everyone seems to like you very much, and the kind of bravery and kindness you have is of a kind I did not previously know could ever be sincere.”
She finally said it, and now, Wanda felt anxious about what you might say next.
You shifted and repositioned yourself as you pondered for a moment in consideration. “Well, I have to confess that most if not all of my bravery is rather insincere — I’m truly not as brave as you might think. In fact, I would argue that you’re more brave than I; you’ve experienced so much, undergone so much change, and yet you seem to have more drive than anyone to try your hardest at adjusting and getting back on your feet.” 
You thought she was braver than you? Wanda could collapse. She felt her chest flutter.
“But… the kindness,” you said, “is very sincere. I’m glad you see it that way.”
Wanda found herself stepping closer to you, feeling more comfortable in your company and feeling that she wanted to be closer to you physically, to hear your words within a closer vicinity and to see your face free of the soft shadows that the moonlight casted along the curve of your nose and the angle of your cheekbone. 
“I think you’re really special,” you told her. “I’m happy that you’re a part of the team. I’m glad you’re here.”
In all her life, there was only one place Wanda ever felt she belonged — with her family. Over some time, what this meant was redefined with the bombing of her home when she was ten and, recently, with the loss of her brother. There was a feeling of loss, an empty pit that burrowed itself within the deepest depths of Wanda’s identity where Pietro and her family and some sort of identity should have been.
It was not only others and her country that she lost, but a part of herself, when all the landmarks she had ever belonged to were stolen from her. But if she could learn anything from still being able to stand where she was and try her best and be brave — like you said — in spite of all her loss and grief, it was that she was not all that she identified herself with.
She still existed, and was still worth something, even without all that was lost.
It would be difficult to even begin finding who she was, exactly, without Pietro and Sokovia and her parents and the truths of herself and the world that HYDRA had always taught her. But she hoped that you might be at least the first step to her self-discovery — you were her first friend.
“Are you alright?” you asked, tipping your head down slightly to try getting a better look at Wanda’s face. 
Wanda had lost herself in her thoughts and forgot to reply to you. She must have been silent for a bit of time. “Yes, I’m okay.” She subtly swiped at her cheeks when she realised she was crying — perhaps it was from thinking of her family or of Sokovia, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the moment was that she started crying — as she looked over at the field for a distraction again.
Without another word, you stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Wanda’s shoulders, bringing her against your body in a soft hug. It was wordless and quiet and casual — support and comfort without any conditions.
Every time Wanda believed that she’d fully grasped the world’s capacity for kindness, believed that there couldn't possibly be something more gentle than what you have thus far shown her, you prove her wrong. 
She hoped she would never be right.
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chronicowboy · 1 month
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His breakup with Marisol is about as unremarkable as the rest of their relationship. There's no catastrophic muffin mess in his kitchen or divorce papers. Just a quiet I don't think this is working out, I'm sorry. Marisol hadn't even cried. She'd just nodded like she'd been waiting for it and left, didn't even need to grab anything from the house before she went and really that just reassured Eddie that this was the right choice.
So, his breakup with Marisol is unremarkable, except that it's not. It's pretty fucking remarkable when he thinks about it because it's not just that they weren't working out, not just that he really didn't care about spending time with her, not just the clench in his gut every time she touched him. No. It's pretty fucking remarkable because he realises he's in love with his best friend.
That's what pushes him over the edge, gives him the last kick he needs to actually break things off with her. Because Eddie may have sworn himself to secrecy about it the moment he realised, but he could never string someone along just because he couldn't have the real someone he wanted.
It's a fucking revelation once he has it. Not a ton of bricks, but the sun peeking out from behind the clouds on the greyest of days, bright and blinding. And the way Eddie has always thought of Buck in terms of sunshine maybe should have tipped him off sooner, but with the way Buck has been beaming over the past few weeks. Well. Eddie doesn't really think he can be blamed for only just taking his sunglasses off and daring to look directly at the light.
And, okay, so Eddie maybe makes it a full week before he decides his self-sworn secrecy absolutely is not a viable option when Buck walks through life now like a drop of sunshine in human form. It's after Buck leaves the Diaz house, walking out from a day of giggles and joy at the go-kart track they'd finally managed to convince Chris to be seen with them at, leaving behind a cosy heat like sun-warmed skin, that Eddie realises he cannot go another day without telling Buck that he's desperately, deeply in love with him.
And so, that's how Eddie finds himself at Buck's door on a random Sunday morning, knocking for the first time since Natalia waltzed out of the picture. Buck opens it a few moments later looking perfectly sleep-rumpled and soft and downright golden where he's backlit by the early morning sunlight pooling in the loft.
"Eddie," Buck breathes out, eyes darting up the stairs before refocusing on Eddie and what must be the most hopelessly lovesick expression painted across his face. "H-hey, what are you doing here?"
"I, um." Eddie takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Now a good time?" And Buck must hear the slightly shaky steel in his voice because the surprise on his face morphs into a concern so quintessentially Buck that Eddie just wants to kiss it away.
"Y-yeah, of course, come on in." Buck holds the door open for him, and Eddie migrates to the fridge as Buck closes the door with the gentlest touch. "So, um, what's up?"
"I..." Eddie swallows against the heart in his throat, loses himself in the shining blue of Buck's eyes like an ocean he'd be more than happy to drown in. "I broke up with Marisol last week."
"Oh, Eddie." Buck slumps, and Eddie tries not to think that it looks a little like relief. "I'm so sorry, man. That sucks."
"No, no." Eddie waves him off with a laugh. "It's good. Was a long time coming actually." He shakes his head at himself. "I think I was dating her just to tick a box, you know? Realised you probably shouldn't be more excited about a phone call from your new buddy than one from your kinda long-term girlfriend. You definitely shouldn't be relieved when you see your best friend in the restaurant you're taking her to and disappointed when you realise he's just leaving."
And then, Buck blushes, ducks his head, does that little smile that could light up every house on South Bedford Street just like Eddie had been hoping for.
"Yeah." Buck looks up at him from under his lashes. "Probably not."
It bolsters Eddie. Buck's sunshine giving him that one last push he needs.
"There was something else I wanted to say," Eddie starts. And there isn't really any fear in him, knows they'll make it through this no matter what, just an overwhelming sense of peace to come. "I..." A deep breath, gathering all his love and devotion in his lungs so it's ready to pour out on his next inhale and—
A groan from upstairs has the words dying in his throat. A masculine groan. And then:
"Evan?"
"D-down here," Buck calls back.
Eddie can't take his eyes off the loft, stuck there like a car crash he can't look away from as a very shirtless Tommy Kinard appears at the top of the stairs and quickly blanches.
"Shit. Um..." He looks down at Buck in a panic.
Eddie finally manages to drag his eyes away from the very chiselled curveball that just hit him at a hundred miles per hour and finds Buck's face. Small, scared, shaken. He knows the feeling. And because he loves Buck, because of just how deeply he loves Buck, it's the easiest thing in the world to lock that love away and let his face crack into the most genuine of grins. Because if Tommy's been the thing making Buck shine like every fucking star in the sky, well Eddie will absolutely not be getting between them.
"You've been so happy," Eddie chokes out, still smiling.
"I have," Buck whispers.
"And I'm so happy for you." Eddie covers the distance between them in three long strides and pulls Buck into a hug so tight and clinging he's sure it's a confession in and of itself, but Buck only buries in deeper, taking shaky little breaths in the crook of Eddie's neck.
"Thank you," Buck murmurs into his skin. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden rush of tears.
"Sorry you didn't get to tell me on your own terms," he murmurs back, letting Buck pull away, but lingering with a hand on his hip, on his shoulder. He should maybe be worried about what this could look like to Tommy who had basically never heard anything apart from rambles about Buck, except when he glances up the stairs, Tommy is nowhere to be seen.
"I was going to tell you," Buck rushes out. "I-I just wasn't sure how."
"That's okay," Eddie says. It's okay. It's okay. "Well, I'll stop gate-crashing for the... Second time?" He raises an eyebrow, and Buck flushes a pink Eddie will never ever get to taste. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense." He remembers the pure fear on Buck's face, the indecision on Tommy's and the sudden tightening of his own chest despite his smile. "I'll leave you guys to it." He clears his throat. "Kinard, if you hurt him, they'll never find your body," he shouts up the stairs.
"Copy that, Diaz," Tommy shouts back.
"I'm really proud of you, Buck." Eddie wraps him in another hug then, a quick thing, just one last touch before Eddie seals every desire away for good.
"Thanks, Eddie." Buck walks him to the door, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and Eddie wants to hug him again. Wants so badly it hurts. But if he hugs Buck again, he doesn't think he'll ever let go. "See you at work tomorrow."
"See you at work." Eddie prays Buck is too distracted to hear the wobble in his voice.
"Wait, sorry, what did you want to talk about?"
Eddie freezes on the threshold, the stutter of his heart painful like he's back in a suit store, and he catches himself on the doorframe with a shaking hand.
"It can wait."
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rogueddie · 1 year
Text
Eddie loves seeing the way different people react to mistletoe. But no one ever hands it in places that will be effective. It's easily avoidable and, with his new little gaggle of friends, Eddie is curious.
He starts carrying mistletoe with him, sneaking up behind people and dangling it above their heads.
His old friends still have the same reaction that they always do. Gareth stage-kisses him, overdramatic and trying his best to make it look real and convincing. Jeff laughs, pecks him on the cheek. Grant gives him a "scottish kiss"- which is just an excuse to headbutt him.
With his new, very young friends, he makes a point of turning his head and patting his cheek.
El is the only one who actually does kiss his cheek, and she even thanks him afterwards- saying that she'd been wanting to kiss under the mistletoe and that it was great even if it isn't romantic and he is "really old like my dad".
Mike, Lucas and Max shove him away. They all act disgusted, Max even pretends to gag. Dustin laughs in his face. Will tries to laugh it off too, though he's tense and uncomfortable, so Eddie immediately backs off, plays it off as a joke.
Erica threatens him.
Nancy and Jonathan have similar reactions; they laugh, sounding both pleased and embarrassed. Both hold his chin whilst they give him a little peck on the cheek. He isn't sure if it's them being nervous about him causing mischief by moving, or what, but he thinks it's a lovely gesture all the same.
Argyle surprises him by just... kissing him. It's a quick little peck and he moves on like it's nothing. When Eddie tries to ask, later on, he shrugs it off again. He points out that they're friends, so what's a friendly little peck? Eddie doesn't have a response, just takes the joint back off him and tries not to be jealous of how sure he is of himself.
Robin doesn't hesitate when she sees the mistletoe, doesn't even wait for him to say anything. She grabs his face with both hands and smacks a big, wet kiss to his cheek. It's not until he gets home, finally seeing his reflection, that he realizes that her dark red lipstick left a massive mark on his face.
Steve hesitates, for an uncomfortably long moment. He stares at the mistletoe Eddie holds above them, thinking so hard that Eddie can see the gears turning.
When he tries to back off, tries to play it off as a joke, Steve hand shoots up. He grabs Eddies wrist, pushing his hand and the mistletoe back up so it's still hanging above them.
"This is just a joke, like you did with the others." Steve says. But, something about the way he says it, makes it sound more like a question than the statement that it is.
Now, it's Eddies turn to hesitate. His eyes roam Steves face, trying to get a read on him before, eventually, admitting; "no, it's not."
The smile that blooms on Steves face is so big, so bright, that- for a moment- Eddie thinks that this must be his reward. For turning back, for protecting Dustin, for doing the right thing in the end. This smile, right here.
But, he quickly realizes that he's wrong, because that's when Steve leans in. That's when Steve kisses him. And Eddie realizes that, maybe, this entire moment is his reward. Maybe Steve is his reward.
The universe does owe him a happy ending, after all.
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strangerstilinski · 1 month
Text
𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers
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It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.
And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.
Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-
You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.
“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.
His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.
“What are you even talking abou-”
“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.
“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”
“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”
Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.
“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”
“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”
“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.
“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.
“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”
“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.
“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”
“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”
“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”
“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”
“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”
The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.
You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.
“Y'know what? Fine.”
You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.
“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”
“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”
There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.
“Hey! Wait up.”
Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.
“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”
You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.
“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”
You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.
The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.
“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.
It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-
The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.
His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.
Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.
“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.
“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”
His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.
“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”
“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.
“Why-”
Kiss.
“Are you-”
Kiss.
“Kissing me?”
Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”
“No. Hell no.”
And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.
He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.
You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.
“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”
You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”
When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.
It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.
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aphrogeneias · 3 months
Text
show you
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: r is in college but they're the same age. long distance relationship. making out, teasing, biting. exhibitionism, if you squint. slight dirty talk. eddie munson is a little shit (affectionate).
author's note: inspired by a request by @raccoonboywrites that mentioned something about a reunion between eddie and r, who haven't seen each other in a while <3
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“Where's your roommate again?”
It's the third time Eddie’s asking.
The first was in your car, on the way to the dorms, after he hopped off the bus, way too eager to get you alone. The second was while you dragged him by the hand through the hallways, eager to show him around as he practically glued himself to your back.
Now, as he has you pressed against the door of your room, the one you'd just locked behind you with one hand while the other rests on his chest, he asks one more time. Just to be sure.
“I told you she's at a frat party.” You sigh, pulling him even closer, arms around his neck. His hyperactive hands don't know where to settle, but his thigh finds its way to the middle of your parted ones. “Probably sleeping over there. Relax.”
All he can do is hum into your mouth. It's the best response he can come up with as he's kissing you, and he doesn't want to stop. Not now that he has you where he wants you, your skin warm under his rough hands, feeling how soft you are under your shirt.
It's been way too long. Way too many miles between you — and it's not that he isn't proud of you for getting into college, but surviving Hawkins without you was proving to be more difficult than he thought.
He missed you everywhere, everyday. It didn't help that he's been up the walls with need.
All he had was your late night phone calls and a polaroid picture of you in nothing but his favorite pair of black lace underwear, the same you'd graciously left as a parting gift in his drawer.
None of it could compare to the real thing.
Impatient as always, Eddie pulls you from the door, and spins you around, still keeping you close to his aching body. His hand runs up from your waist, from your chest, and finds itself holding you in place by the neck, guitar scarred fingers splayed on the side of your throat, thumb running over the delicate skin there.
You pull away, panting, chest heaving as you exhale into his lips. He grins, tilting his head, hand still on your neck, “Breathe, baby. ‘M not going anywhere.”
“Asshole,” you pout.
Holding him by the wrist, you kiss him again, gently. Eddie chases your lips with his, meaning to deepen the kiss, but you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, biting on it a little too hard. He moans.
Distracted, his grip on you loosens, enough for you to gain control. You walk him backwards until you push him on your twin bed, and he falls on his back, watching you as you climb on top of him, straddling his narrow hips.
A sight he'd never get enough of.
His hands settle on the curve of your hips, and his lips find their way to your neck, leaving wet kisses down the column of your throat, the hinge of your jaw, the spot behind your ear that had you arching into him, hips stuttering over the fly of his jeans.
He missed that. Your weight on top of him, the fading scent of your perfume when he ran his nose over your neck, the sweet noises you made. He wants to make you sing.
“I'm not opposed to getting caught, you know.” He muses, running his hands behind your back between kisses. “Show her that your boyfriend isn't just good for those phone calls and heartfelt letters.” A squeeze to your waist, hands lowering to the supple curve of your ass, squeezing it over your leggings. “That he gives it to you good.”
“You're a fucking pervert, that's what you are.” You glare and tell him off, but the hungry look in your eyes says otherwise. “Show off.”
He flips you over, then. Pushes you under him, covering you with his frame. Your legs part for him, welcoming you between the cradle of your hips. He makes himself at home, lowering his weight on you, and trailing your hands over your head.
“Yeah. I'll show you alright.”
Your teeth find his lip again, sucking it into your mouth, attempting to make him stop talking. The taste of copper is nothing compared to the rush that rouses him to his core. He groans into your mouth, giving you a bruising kiss that has your toes curling.
Two could play this game.
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mad-maximoff · 3 months
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We Met Again
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Part 2 of When We Met since y’all asked so damn much! I just hope this one doesn't get censored too😅
Summary: You were on a 6-month-long mission with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes only to come back to the compound and face Wanda.
Warnings: G!P reader, angst, making out, unprotected sex, ejaculation , soft sex turned rough, hair-pulling, breaking the bed (literally😂),
Word Count: 3,702
Prt 1 Here
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"Welcome back Y/n, how was your little adventure with the boys?" Kate Bishop stood behind the bar making herself a pink alcoholic slush of some sort. You were covered in dirt and soot from head to toe. You just got off a mission with Sam and Bucky. You were in Egypt going about looking for a highly classified terrorist ring. Thankfully you got to them before they started their reign. 
"Adventure my ass. I slept on the dirt while the boys slept in cozy beds like princesses. I tell you what I need is a shower and to take a well-deserved dirt nap in a real bed." You threw your weapons on the table halting at a chair and flinging off your boots. "I'll clean this shit up later Kat, I've been waiting for this." You turned to see Kate pouring herself a tall misshapen glass full of pink slush. "Sure thing Y/n, you and I are the only ones here I think. You want the rest?" She licked the side of her glass where she spilt. "Why not, might help me crash harder." You reached around Kate grabbing the whole blender. There was more than a mouthful left. You thought maybe it was strawberry daiquiri, so you thought nothing of it and chugged it. The first sip made you gag.
"Jesus Christ Bishop! Paloma? Really? What are you 40? You've been around Potts too long. Good lord.." You hated tequila, especially grapefruit. You polished it off not backing down leaving it on a table in the middle of the hallway. You knew there were empty beds not touched by any of the other Avengers. Basically new. It was funny really. Everything to you looked new but it was just the same as the last time you were down this hallway. Maybe it looked new because the last time you were here you were drunk with your pants around your ankles. Come to think of it. That table was new. You pivoted around noticing the table on further inspection. You saw a crack along the wall. Oh yeah, you remember. That was the spot. The spot where you and Wanda...
Yeah...Wanda...
You remember where her room was. You remember you crashed there after you both finished your fun in the hall. Curiosity killed the cat. You noticed the door was slightly cracked allowing light to shine through. But it was almost midnight, it wasn't natural light. It was from a light. Is she there? Did she forget to turn off the lights? Maybe. You pondered. Kate did say after all you two were the two here so it was bound she forgot. It's a common mistake. 
You tip-toed over to her room letting your fingers creep through the part between the door and the wall slightly allowing the length of your fingers to pry the door a bit more. Your strength got the hold of you as it flung open. Wanda was sitting at the edge of her bed in her room, with her leg raised to lean her elbow on her knee, underneath her chin. 
"Kate honey I told you for the third time today. We can drink and watch Sex and The City tomorrow. I don't feel up to it." She huffed watching the news. Her brows were furrowed, her eyes darting back and forth watching the live footage of whatever catastrophe happened. "So you're the one drinking Palomas huh?" You leaned in the door frame crossing your arms. You had to laugh. You never thought she was a cocktail girl. Though..you never thought she was the kind to give blowjobs either but you were surprised by both.
"Oh..it's you...no I don't drink that shit. She found Tony's recipe book for Pepper and his date nights and she's drinking like a fish...When did you come back to the States?" She was genuinely surprised to see me. Her leg fell from where it was prompted. Wanda stood up walking the length of her bedframe around to meet you.
You were shocked also. Maybe she wasn't showing yet? You swore you thought you'd come home and find her pregnant but unless she's super athletic or has it hidden she doesn't look like she's expecting.
"Ah 30 minutes ago. Um..stupid question.." You scratched your head looking down at Wanda then back up at her eyes. She laughed standing in front of you. Her hand reached to your cheek whipping the loose dirt from your undereye. 
"Haha no! Unfortunately, I'm not pregnant. I don't know how. I always thought that first tries always work. I even helped you out a bit." 
"Unfortunately? You wanted me to get you pregnant? Are you insane? You don't even know me and you want kids from me! I'm too young to have a family! Even with my powers...let alone, what gives you the right to choose for me!" You broke her hand away backing away. You had to leave or else there'll be bigger cracks in the wall. 
"Y/n please, I never meant to hurt you. I just got confused that's all. You were so nice to me and after I lost Vis 2 times and lost my boys I just felt you comforted me. That's all." Wanda reached again grasping your bicep. You pulled away again this time hitting the wood casing around the frame with your elbow. The wood casing flew off behind you hitting the hallway floor.
"No! Don’t you dare touch me! All you cared about was yourself! Just because someone showed you comfort doesn't mean you let them cum inside you, Wanda! That's really fucked up! I'm sorry you lost your family but you can't just use me to play house!" You growled noticing your rage was becoming the better of you. Wanda through your eyes was becoming tiny. Her body language was making her small. Curling her fingers into the sleeves of her black cardigan, crossing her arm over to her elbow. She looked down at her bare feet letting out a shakey breath.
"I'm really sorry Y/n...I don't know what I was thinking. I've been so used to having people around me. That it feels weird to be by myself." Wanda's head was bowed letting her newly brown hair almost cover her head. A tiny tear ran down her blushed cheek wiping it away quickly.
All you saw was red. Not by Wanda's magic. But for some reason, you were enraged. How could you be this angry over something you fully did with Wanda 6 months ago? Maybe you do have a tiny bit of an anger problem. Little? In this case, that's an understatement. 
You huffed feeling the hot pressure on your chest cool down to your stomach. You think seeing Wanda so visibly upset may have broken your cross attitude. 
"Get used to it, Wanda." You had to storm off. If the conversation got any more heated; one of you was going to end up in a wall. And it was most likely going to be you. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe if I get some sleep and a good shower I can speak to her more clearly. 
You thought gliding to one of the newly furnished rooms. 
Each room had its own bathroom. Tony is a playboy so obviously the bathroom was soundproof. The entire compound was all technology so a press of a button and the bedroom could be soundproof. You didn't need that tonight. You wished there was a switch to soundproof your head. 
How could I snap like that? I haven't done that in years! What the hell was I thinking to begin with?! You felt like you could stand under the hot water for hours. It took two layers of body wash just to scrub away the dirt from your body and finally feel human. Maybe you were scrubbing off your anger with it in a sense. You had your little outbursts but this one almost made you black out. Your lofa scraped at your skin furiously, leaving little imprints everywhere. Your back flexed in the mirror examining your clean body. Your hips were women but your shoulders and torso were the shape of a man. You had average-sized breasts. They were nothing special, they were nice to look at but nothing that could turn any heads. Perhaps you could say they were bigger than average but you never noticed.
You got out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your waistbone, as you inhaled walking to the foot of your bed your v-line showed every breath you took. You thought if someone was to walk in it would be less surprising seeing you topless instead of bottomless. 
"Fuck...you got buff little one.." You gasped in fright hearing Wanda's quiet voice coming from the chair hidden next to the wall. Wanda's makeup was smeared all over her under her eyes. She was sniffling back what little tears she produced. She was crying heavily, using the sleeves of her cardigan. "What the fuck do you want now? Can't you see I'm busy? I'm not giving in to your mind games." You turned to face your back to her loosening the towel from your waist to dry your legs. You reached around putting on a pair of boxer briefs. You heard a creek come from the corner of your room knowing Wanda got up. Her bare feet were quiet on the hardwood but not quiet enough for you to hear. 
"No mind games Y/n. I-I...wanted to apologize...you were right. I need to start learning how to be on my own. I deserve to be alone. I shouldn't have let you do those things to me." She held back a cry making her eyes gloss over. 
"Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I was actually going to apologize to you. I don't know what came over me. I lost my temper too quickly. I haven't done that in years. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." Your hands lifted Wanda's chin to look at you, letting all of her hair fall back behind her shoulders. She looked like a baby raccoon. It was cute but you felt awful that she was crying because of you. "I'm so sorry Wanda." Wanda's hands placed around your hips, sliding herself closer to your body. You pulled her in deeper holding her close. Her head rested on your shoulder letting her finish her cries. Your hands caressed her skull, intertwining with her locs. 
"It's okay..please, please stop crying. You're making me feel worse." You sat her down on the foot of the bed still massaging Wanda's head. She buried her face in your chest noticing her sobs being muffled into silent sniffles. One of your hands dropped placing it on her chest, directly on top of her heart. Her beats were rapid on the first touch, but once you dragged your fingertips along her skin she settled. Your other hand finally dropped rubbing her spine. She was frail in comparison to your body. Every muscle you flexed made it seem more apparent. 
"Thank you," she sniffled, using her sleeve to wipe away her stained makeup. "Thank you very much Y/n. I feel like sometimes I can just go off the handle." Wanda wiped another tear with her sleeve again, the tears glossed in her eyes and made her pupils sparkle as she looked so passionately into your eyes. 
"It's fine Wanda. We all go off the handle some days. I did it on you earlier. We just need to relax a little. The both of us." 
                             ╳°»。 ∾・⁙・ ღ ➵ ⁘ ➵ ღ ・⁙・∾ 。«°╳
You and Wanda laid down together in silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence however, it felt somehow to you a healing silence. You two didn’t need to talk, that’s what got you two into shit before. Just cuddling together. Wanda laid her head on your bare chest. You threw on a random stupid movie on TV, it was one of those goofy movies that two dudes probably smoked a joint and started filming. You didn’t like it; Wanda found it comical. She’d laugh at the slightest action or joke. 15 minutes later however she was silent. You peered down checking up on her. Her eyes fluttered, she was falling asleep. You twitched which made her jump. 
“Jesus…what’s happened?” She whispered. I knew she fell asleep for a moment. You could hear it in her tone. Groggy and low. 
“Nothing sorry. My leg just spasmed. It’s okay, you can go back to sleep.” Your hand ran down Wanda's thigh. Her skin was soft just like you remembered. 
“Shut up, I wasn't sleeping.” She giggled rolling her head the other way. 
“Oh I'm sorry, I just saw the stucco on the ceiling coming apart so I thought you were snoring.” You joked.
“Fuck off!” She laughed sitting up on your lap. “I do not snore!” Her hands grasped a fist full of your bare breasts in either hand. It felt good to be handled again. As soon as her hands touched you that way, you instantly felt you were getting hard. It wasn't an embarrassment any longer. You had another one-night encounter after Wanda that made feel 10x better about your appearance. 
“No, that's just loudly humming in your sleep isn't it?” Your hands tightened around her hips slowly moving them back and forth. Wanda sucked air through her teeth letting a little gasp. "Ohh-stop!" She laughed biting her lower lip. "You want something else don't you detka?" Her dress grazed the front of your boxers, just to tease you. 
"Perhaps. This time, it's on my terms. This time." Your hands pushed down on Wanda's thighs rubbing your forming bludge on the fabric of her panties. Her brows raised, turning her cheeks into a rose colour. "Really? Would you still want to? Even after everything I did?..."  
“Of course.” You freed your hands from her thighs, swishing a strand of her hair away from her face looking into her emerald eyes. She giggled again looking down at your chest. “You’re tits are huge Y/n.” Wanda’s hands clutched my full chest. "I don't think I saw them last time." She squeezed each handful. You whinced with her nails digging into your skin. 
"Ha! Well, I hope you remember something else's size." You joked lightly tugging at your boxers. “Hmm..I think I definitely need a refresher.” Wanda tugged the hem of her dress; pulling it over her head as her arms whisked it to the floor. Wanda’s hands jerked at the elastic band around your hips. Your fairly large erection greeted both of you with a fair shock as it bounced its way to freedom. “Oh yes, I remember now.” Her tongue folded against the tops of her teeth. Your hands held a firm grip on either side of Wanda’s panties ripping them off. “Seems you don’t need this huh?” She giggled letting out a small whimper. “Fuck-…can we stop all this talking Y/n? I really need you.” Your fingers trailed along her mound going further in her slit. Her inner core was silk. Your finger slipped inside effortlessly. Her little sounds became more low. “Oh…g-god.” Her head dropped down making her lips lay on mine. "Stop fucking teasing me..." She groaned as her teeth bit the bottom of my lip. "Okay, you asked for it." You flipped Wanda onto her back. The bed's feet raised as the bed made a thump. "Did you want condoms?" 
"N-no. No, Wanda, I can pull out." You bent down locking your lips with hers again. "Haha..sure, sure you can Y/n." Wanda's eyes glowed red again briefly. "Fuck no more games. Just let me fuck you by myself." Your fingers slid between Wanda's folds before slipping your cock inside. She gasped curling her fingers into the sheets. Your hands planted on the mattress on either side of Wanda's head. She uncurled her fingers from the bedsheets, moving them around your wrists. Her breaths were choppy trying to get ahold. You thought she looked so beautiful underneath you, the way her skin naturally glowed, her pearly white smile chewing her bottom lip, the way she looked at you. Not in a loving way just yet, in an adoring way? A needing way. 
"Go on. Keep making those pretty sounds for me, sweetheart." Your hips dove in feeling her walls coating you effortlessly. Wanda’s whines grew deafening, her eyes did not stop turning shades of red. 
“Oh shit…y/n…uh-…” Wanda's head rolled back on the mattress. Dropping her jaw open. You began to thrust with a heavy pace. Becoming quick with every moan that escaped Wanda’s lips. The bed frame formed a squeaking noise with each pump into the brunette. Wanda’s leg had a hard time trying to stay afloat around your hips, slipping every movement you two shared. You stopped pulling out briefly. 
“What-..Y/n? Why did stop?! Continuă…” Wanda cried out allowing her hands to fall scratching your biceps. “I will, don't worry. Go flip on your stomach, on your knees and bend over.” Wanda sighed a sly smile flipping onto her knees, arching her back letting her chest lay on the mattress. She glanced over her shoulder with her hair covering her face. Your hand traced her temple softly, leading your fingers into the brunette's long strands. Grasping a fistful of Wanda’s hair. You peered down watching your cock twitch in anticipation with Wanda’s ass sway in the same feeling of suspense. Your other hand grasped Wanda’s thigh sliding your shaft back into her slick folds. 
“Oh…fuck-” Wanda sucked air through her teeth tilting her head down with your hand still tight on her hair. You did begin to thrust slowly as you once did, you began to ram yourself deeply inside the witch as though you were pushing through air. Wanda's hand gave out mid-pump landing on her chest. Her hands gripped the bedsheets as she tried to move her head to a more comfortable spot. "Fuck...you have such a nice ass." You twisted Wanda's hair around your knuckles applying a forceful tug. Her head raised leaving a spot of drool on the sheets. "Uh-huh!" Wanda's head cocked further to watch you. Your hand jerked the fistful of Wanda's hair pulling her hair as hard as you could muster without ripping all of her hair out entirely. Her body lifted off the mattress onto her knees. Her back pressed on your chest laying her head on your shoulder. "Oh god!...Shit!" Your wrist could not take it anymore, you let go of Wanda's hair allowing it to fall behind your shoulder. Your hand relaxed on Wanda's thigh attaching every finger around the softest part of her leg. Wanda's arm flung around your throat holding herself up. "Shit...I'm going to cum..." Wanda's moans were silent as she took a small breath. "Huh? Good baby...me too." You sighed out feeling yourself climbing higher and higher up to your point of no return. "Do it Y/n." Wanda used her knees bouncing her body against you. 
"Do what Wand?" You groaned in her ear smelling her sweet perfume sweat off onto you. "Cum in me...please..." Her cheek heated on yours as you felt her jaw lock open not letting another sound out. "Y-you sure? I don't know." You did not want to take that chance again, you had some rendezvous with a certain green bulky woman in Egypt, knowing you mastered your craft of pulling out. If you did not get her pregnant 6 months ago, hell, you couldn't do it again right? 
"F-fine...you want me to cum inside you huh?" You huffed tightening your grip on Wanda's thighs, the wooden bedframe continued to rattle. The frame began to bell out with your knees ready to cave. "Yes! Yes!" 
"Yes, what?" 
"Cum inside me Y/n! Fill me!" Wanda's voice shrieked out letting go of a low-toned moan. "Oh god! I'm cumming!" Wanda grasped firmly on your neck vibrating her entire body. Her eyes glow red tracing red mists around both of your bodies. "Fuck!" The pressure within you exploded, you could not think if it was you that came or if Wanda had some help to speed it up. You felt your cock throb spewing out your cum in the witch. She tried her best to make her body stay still, her thighs would not stop fidgeting. You bucked your knees forward to have Wanda fall on her stomach as you fell with her. The bedframe finally gave way as the mattress hit the floor. You both hit a thump, Wanda chuckled under your body softly as she took a quick breath. "Well, shit. How do you expect to explain this to Tony?" 
"We'll blame Kate," You sighed wiping a bead of sweat from your brow. "She got too drunk and we found her jumping on the bed. Agreed?" 
"Agreed detka. Let's get out of here. We can go to my room." You arose to see the bedposts still standing but the wood beams holding the bed just fell. "Well, this was a great welcome back." You stretched out your arms above your head hearing the cracks of your shoulder blades. "I'd say so." You stood up from the mattress whisking your boxers off the floor. 
"Y/n? You don't need those." Wanda sat up on her knees running her hands through her hair. You bent over as you picked Wanda up by her thighs and wrapped them around your waist. "Haha! I sure do. I don't want to scare Kate if we run into her." You took hefty strides over to the bedroom door, making your way down the hall to Wanda's room. Wanda draped her hands around your neck giving a sly little smile as she looked over her shoulder. Her wrist flicked a red mist, you witnessed the red mist run down the staircase doing nothing after it left the stairs. "There. She won't bug us. I put her to sleep for the night. Now, we can have more fun." 
"Good. Let's hope I don't break your bed this time." 
"Well, don't promise that. I'd love you to ruin me." Her finger traced along your jaw down your throat. "Ask, and you shall receive." 
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byunpum · 5 months
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Mama's Boy | Part 4
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Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's
Warning: Kinda sad, cozy moments, conflict, family problems
Note: This part may be a bit long, but I hope you still enjoy it. I think only one part is left, but we'll see. Do you like the reading to be this long or shorter?. btwI recently opened a KO-Fi…. if you want to leave any tips or support I would appreciate it (it would help me to buy real coffee xD).
AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)
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7 years ago… You were quite calm decorating and cleaning your home, neytiri was out for a walk with kiri and baby tuk. While jake had gone out to practice with lo'ak and neteyam. Leaving you alone, and peaceful. But all that quiet was interrupted, when you heard a lo'ak crying. He came rushing in, straight towards you. He was wiping away the tears that were falling on his cheeks. "MAMA" lo'ak whimpers, coming towards you. Throwing himself into your arms, not caring what you were doing. The boy wrapped his arms around your neck, burying his face in your neck. Lo'ak was 7 years old, and already about your height. But that didn't stop his mother from comforting him, and right now he needed it. "Honey…what's wrong? You're hurt" you push him away a little, taking a quick look. You see that he doesn't have any injuries, so what was wrong with him. You hug him again, caress his back. And you cuddle him from side to side. Trying to calm the child down. After a couple of minutes, you feel lo'ak move away a little. You wipe his face a little. "Are you more calm?" you smile at him a little trying to comfort him.
"Yes…it's just that…" lo'ak tries to speak, but stops when he feels his tears coming again. "Calm down love…what's wrong" you speak, you were worrying about whatever had happened, it was really mortifying him. "I was with daddy…practicing my shots with my bow. It was my turn and " lo'ak takes a deep breath. You already knew what the boy was going to say, you gently caress his cheek. "I didn't get it right…and I would try again many times. But dad told me that neteyam was better at archery than me. And that's not true!!!" Lo'ak begins to cry. "Love…daddy only said that for your own good, to make you better" you know it's not right what jake said. You hated it when jake compared lo'ak to neteyam. "No…he said neteyam was much better than me in everything…that I should be like him. And I don't want to be like neteyam, neteyam is ugly" lo'ak yells a little.
"Hey, first neteyam is not to blame for anything…and second, I will talk to your father. But love…don't make a big deal out of those comments. Your father sometimes doesn't think about what he's going to say, okay?" you try to reassure the boy. "Why don't you go and find spider, and you two can play. Yeah?" you say, watching as the boy perks up.
That same night, you and Jake have a big argument. Even neytiri had to step in. She was never on either side. It was so bad, that you even took lo'ak and left the house to sleep with mo'at. Behind you were kiri and neteyam. "You can't take the children with you," shouts Jake in anger. "Of course I can, I'm not going to leave them here with an immature person" you shout back, neytiri was trying to rationalize with you. But she ends up following you, giving Jake a disapproving look.
Present day…
"mom…can you help me with this?" asks neteyam, approaching you. He was holding a pretty feather ornament. "Sure come here sweetie" you speak, inviting him to sit down in front of you. You get up from the floor, to now work on his hair. The whole family had gotten up early to finish packing, almost everything was ready. But there were more things to pack, now that they had spent time in the metkayina clan. As you worked on neteyam's hair, you noticed how the scar from his wound had healed, but it was still there. "Honey…I'm glad to see you are healing" you speak, listening as neteyam laughs but then goes silent. "mom for a moment i thought i was going to die and never see you again" neteyam says. Lo'ak was sitting on your left side, he heard what his brother said. He quickly tapped him on the shoulder. "Bro…don't say that" lo'ak didn't like to talk about it. You on the other hand felt sorry, you almost lost one of your babies and you weren't there. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and give him a hug. The tightest hug you can. "I would have found a way to see you, you know that right?" you speak, watching as the boy turns to look at you. "I know mom…that's why I stopped worrying" neteyam laughs a little. Settling down so you can continue to work on his hair.
Meanwhile tonowari was on his way to the sully's marui, that same morning he woke up early and discussed his decision with ronal, the woman strongly disagreed. She did not like the idea of having a human in her clan. But she had to support her partner's decision. Tonowari quietly approached the entrance of the marui and stood in silence. To his surprise, he had the scene that lo'ak was trying to explain to him the night before. Neteyam was sitting, while you were combing his hair. Lo'ak sat next to you eating a piece of fruit, while laughing with kiri. The children looked so happy around you, they felt safe. He walked in a little, causing his presence to be noticed by jake. The whole family looked at him. "tonowari…is something wrong?" asks jake, finding the man's presence in their home strange.
"I came here because I want to talk…to the whole family" says tonowari, looking at you quickly. I had to admit, your presence was strange. "Come in," says Jake. Everyone turns their attention to the man who had now sat down. "Your son…lo'ak" tonowari points to lo'ak quickly. Jake looks at him with concern, what lo'ak must have done now. Swallowing hard, praying it's nothing bad. "The boy talked to me and I must say he was mature enough to stand up for his mother" tonowari says.
"I'm sorry if he said something he shouldn't I" jake started to apologize, but tonowari raises his hand to pause him. "He didn't do anything wrong…in fact he convinced me. I accept that human stays between us" tonowari says, lo'ak looks at you and smiles wide. Holding your hand tightly. "Are you serious?" jake couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Yes…I can imagine how bad it must be for the family not to have a member in it." Tonowari can see how everyone in the family gets excited. "But I have one condition," Tonowari says, staring at you. "Yes tell me…whatever" you speak, tonowari is surprised. For the first time he was talking to you face to face, he must admit you were very beautiful. And he could notice some features you shared with your son, lo'ak.
"I will give you a testing time. You will have to live as a metkayina, swim, fish, work as a metkayina. You will not be anyone's burden, and you will earn your own place here in the clan, that's for sure," says Tonowari. He was serious, you only had one chance. If you did something wrong, or made a mistake it was all over. "Don't worry, I will do my best. I assure you I won't cause any trouble," you say. "They're going to love her," says Kiri excitedly, getting up from the floor to hug you. This news makes the whole family happy. Tonowari says goodbye and leaves. The whole family is silent for a moment, analyzing what had happened. This was a lot of information, for such a short time. "Mom…you are staying here!!!" says lo'ak, the boy is so excited. He was about to cry. The only family member who hadn't said anything was jake, he was still sitting in the same position.
"Lo'ak…why did you go talk to tonowari and not say anything to me" jake sounded upset, in fact he looked upset. "Jake" neytiri starts talking, she already knew what jake was going to come out with. "Dad it's just that you had argued with him and I wanted to fix things" lo'ak tries to explain his point of view. "You know this could have ended worse" jake says, you pick yourself up off the floor. Making a noise like 'ha'. Jake looks at you in surprise. "I can't believe it, your son has done something wonderful. And instead of congratulating him…you're scolding him? You are unbelievable jake" you speak, while crossing your arms. Neytiri could see your position, and if there was one thing she knew, it was that you were not an easy woman. You might be small, but your character and the power you had over Jake was gigantic. "Okay, everybody calm down. Lo'ak you did a great job" neytiri reaches up to stroke the boy's face. "And jake…Y/N is right, no need to complain" neytiri speaks, hoping everything will calm down.
Jake takes a deep breath, stretching his arms in the air. Shaking his body a little, stretching out one of his hands to signal for you to come closer. He had a goofy grin on his face, when he felt you approach his arm. Skillfully grabbing your waist, with a quick movement pulling you into his body . Cuddling you into his arms, filling your cheeks with kisses as your laughter could be heard throughout the marui. This was supposed to be a moment of happiness for the family, they were finally going to be together after a long time apart. That same morning, everyone helped to unpack all the belongings. Neytiri was thankful that the heaviest things had not been packed, because they did have a lot of things. Also that night, the family celebrated like in the old days, of course…inside the marui and in silence. Preparing a good meal, dancing and laughing about the old days. It felt so nostalgic, it had been a long time since they had had such a good time.
Everyone got ready to rest. The boys settled into their hammocks, ready to sleep. As in the old days, you went one by one to say good night to them. Giving them a kiss on the forehead. First it was tuk, then kiri, then neteyam and for the last it was lo'ak. "Goodnight my precious baby" you speak, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Watching as lo'ak giggles tenderly, he looked so adorable like that. "Mama can you sleep with me?" lo'ak asks you, causing a smile from you. "Love…" you didn't know what to say to him, lo'ak was too old for you to sleep with him. But you felt sorry for your boy, he had missed you so much. But if you were going to be fair, all the children in the family had asked to sleep with you. Just before you could give an answer, Jake came up behind you. "ahh no, your mom is going to sleep with us…and that's it" says jake, seeing how lo'ak's face is one of sadness. "I promise you that later mom will sleep with you, ok?" you speak, saying goodbye again to lo'ak.
Jake and you walked away. Jake looked back, to see lo'ak giving him a dirty look. This surprised Jake, chuckling to himself. As he walked you over to the hammock you shared. "Ney" you hum, as you climb into the hammock. Snuggling into neytiri's chest, she snuggles you into her arms. Feeling jake settle in behind you. "Your son hates me," jake says, burying his head in the back of your neck. "Which one?" you speak, as neytiri lets out a laugh. "Hey" jake slaps you on your ass. You and neytiri continue to laugh. "I'm talking about lo'ak, you would have seen the way he looks at me" jake was still shocked, lo'ak had never looked at him like that. "You asked for it…you're taking his mom" says neytiri. "Yeah but his mom…she's ours too, isn't she?" says jake, leaving a few wet kisses on your neck. Neytiri hugs you tighter on her chest, you felt so good. You had missed them too much.
2 months later…
You had gotten used to life in the new clan pretty fast. You had started taking some lessons with ronal on fishing, since you couldn't ride an ilu. You had to do everything the traditional way, according to the na'vis. But for you it was normal, humans had to do things traditionally all the time. So fishing with a net, collecting the things you had to use, even though it was more difficult, you had managed it. Ronal was still not very sure about you, whenever you were with her there was always your bodyguard, Neytiri. Your partner did not leave you alone with Ronal at any time. According to Neytiri Ronal could tempt you with your life. You thought she was overreacting, but you didn't argue with neytiri about such things, she had always been that way with you.
On the other hand, tonowari could tell that everything jake and lo'ak had told her about you was true. You were the most peaceful person he had ever met. He had barely listened to you, well… he hadn't talked to you much. But whenever he saw you, you were always with your children, or helping a clan member. Tonowari would approach the na'vis and ask them what they thought of you. They would always respond with a 'she is very nice''I like her, she is a very good person'. This would relieve it a little, but you were still on probation.
On the other hand, your relationship with your family was in a good state, better than ever. Everything seemed to be running smoothly. Or so you thought. It was morning around 10:00 am as far as you could calculate. Kiri had insisted the night before that you accompany her to look for shells on the beach where she liked to go. You accepted without a problem, you had nothing to do and wanted to spend time with one of your girls. Lo'ak was invited to the expedition, of course he didn't have to ask…he was always with you. If he wasn't with his friends, it was behind you. "Hey…watch out, the sun looks like it's going to be very hot" says neytiri. If the sun was bad for the na'vi, it was worse for you. You joke a little, watching as neytiri approaches you to put some kind of cream on you to protect you from the sun. You and Jake joked that this was a sunblock bomb, because the smell was so strong. "Ahh I hate that smell!!!" you complain, but neytiri nips you a little to stop you from moving. "Yeah…but you're going to thank me when you don't get burned like a tapirus" neytiri sounds angry, seeing that you don't take her concern seriously.
You say goodbye and leave with kiri and lo'ak towards the beach. They arrived quickly, the place was very close. Kiri was lying in the water, sinking her face from time to time. While you were sitting next to her, you had your head back and your eyes closed. Enjoying the warmth, it had rained a lot the previous days. The weather felt great. While lo'ak was playing eywa knows where. You could just hear the water splashing in the distance. Out of nowhere, you feel someone approach and make a spray of water fall on your face. "Lo'ak…watch out!!!" you scold, seeing the boy laughing in front of you. He looked like a puppy about to make a mischief. "Mom, I want you to meet someone?" says lo'ak. This gets your attention, settling in straight to look at him. "Is it a girl? Tsireya?" you ask, lo'ak gets nervous and moves his face in a 'no' expression. "It's something better…it's my other brother" lo'ak says, you look at him curiously. Lo'ak had gone crazy, as far as you knew the only brother he had was neteyam. "You mean teyam?" you say.
Lo'ak lets out a laugh, as he sits closer to you. "Mama no, he is ahhh he is a tulkun. I want you to meet him" lo'ak was excited, he wanted you to meet payakan. You think about it for a while, but you accept. You couldn't say no to that adorable little face. You tap kiri's shoulder. The little girl lifts her face. "What happened, Mom?" speaks Kiri, and you brush a few strands of hair out of her face. "Honey I'm going for a walk with lo'ak do you want to go?" you ask her. "Nooo mama just you and me" lo'ak complains, crossing his arms. "You don't have to yell…mom don't worry I'll be here a while longer and then I'll go home" kiri says.
"Ok….but be very careful. I trust you" you speak, watching as Kiri smiles at you and goes back to playing with the little fish in the area. You get up from the water, accompanying lo'ak. He was already jumping up and down with excitement. Telling you all about his friend, how he met him and where he came from. All while walking towards his ilu. The trip was quite fast, lo'ak arrived getting up a little from his ilu. Calling out his friend's name. "Mama he will be here soon" lo'ak looks around, seeing if he saw his friend. "Don't worry if he doesn't come" you speak up, but remain silent when you see as a shadow below you. "Here he is!!!" lo'ak says, excited. Payakan comes out of the water, making a noise of greeting. "Payakan look…this is my mom. Remember I told you about her?" says lo'ak moving to the side, to take your hand. So that you would come closer to him. Lo'ak sometimes forgot that your legs were shorter and you were smaller. But you manage to stand now on the creature's flipper. While lo'ak's ilu begins to swim around.
"Mama he is payakan my brother…and payakan she is my mama" lo'ak speaks, petting the creature. Tulkun makes another noise, and you startle a little. You had to admit that this was very new to you. You still didn't understand the language of signs very well, let alone this creature. "mama he says you are very pretty" says lo'ak. You could see the look of pride on his face, this was very important to him. "Thank you" you look at payakan, and he gets excited. Making a stream of water come out of his back. "Mama likes you very much" lo'ak says. You giggle a little, reaching over to pet the creature. It was very amazing and majestic. You and lo'ak spent the whole afternoon playing and hanging out together. For a moment, you just sit in lo'ak's ilu, watching the boy swim and play with his friend. You loved seeing him like that, so happy and carefree.
After a while, for some reason you started to feel sick. You had felt dizzy that morning, but you didn't think it was important. But now you were feeling worse, the dizziness was getting stronger and your vision was getting quite blurry. And not to mention the headache and stomach pain you were getting. "L-lo'ak" you yell under your breath. You were already writhing in pain, you lean forward. Trying to get your balance. The ilu of lo'ak noticed something was going on, and began to make a lot of noise. Catching lo'ak's attention, the boy stops swimming and takes a look at your location. He can tell how you were moving oddly, and his ilu looked a little uneasy.
He swims as fast as he can, coming towards you. "MAMA, MAMA!!!" lo'ak approaches and tries to get your attention. Lifting your shoulder, but he sees how you don't respond. You had fainted, your body was resting in the ilu. "Mom get up, what's wrong with you!!!" lo'ak is getting very desperate, what had happened to you, you were fine minutes ago. Maybe the sun was too strong, or you were sick. Lo'ak climbs into his ilu, carrying you in his arms. Leaving for the clan, he made his ilu swim as fast as possible, but he could not hold back his tears. You were still not getting up and he was getting desperate. "mama please…get up" shouts lo'ak shaking you a little. The trip back was a long one for lo'ak, arriving at the coast. Shouting his father's name for him to arrive. "Dad!!!dad!!!help!!!" shouts lo'ak.
Jake had arrived at the marui, he was accompanied by neytiri. Kiri had told them that you and lo'ak had gone for a walk. But she didn't tell them where you were going, this made Jake a little nervous. Jake was very careful with you, and even more so since you were on probation. You couldn't cause trouble or else they would have to leave. Jake hears the shouts of lo'ak, who were approaching the marui. "What's going on?" neytiri gets up from the ground, running to the entrance accompanied by jake. Watching as lo'ak enters with his mother in his arms. You had woken up on the road, but a you were still very dizzy. "Y/N!!!" neytiri takes you in her arms, and quickly places you on the ground. "Lo'ak what happened…what happened?" shouts jake, sitting down next to neytiri. Watching as the woman tried to stabilize y/n. "Honey, come on open your eyes" says jake, tapping you on the cheek. While neytiri placed a wet cloth on her forehead, jake tried to get your oxygen machine to pump out more oxygen (here I'm talking about the mask the reader is wearing).
After a while, neytiri managed to get you up. "Take some water" neytiri speaks, stroking your hair. You were sitting up, feeling tired and even a little dizzy. Lo'ak was standing all this time, watching as his parents tried to help you. "Don't worry…it was just a dizzy feeling" you laugh a little. "A simple dizziness…ma y/n you were unconscious" neytiri speaks annoyed. Meanwhile jake was walking from one side of the marui to the other. "Lo'ak what the hell happened? What did you do?" jake looks at lo'ak intensely. "I…mom and I were at the sea. We were visiting payakan" lo'ak says timidly. The poor boy looks at you quickly, trying to seek your help. "J-jake" you speak softly. But you watch as your partner ignores you, and moves closer to lo'ak. "Why are you so ignorant…you know that's a dangerous place for your mother" jake yells.
"But daddy" lo'ak tries to defend himself. "Dad nothing… why are you like this? You're fucking irresponsible" jake yells again. But the words were like a knife to lo'ak, jake was acting as if the boy had caused this on purpose. "JAKE" you yell, getting up from the ground. Neytiri tries to stop you, but you walk towards jake. "What the hell is wrong with you?" you look at Jake in shock. "I'm telling him the truth, why can't he behave like neteyam" says jake.
"Because he's not neteyam!!!!" you yell as loud as you can. Lo'ak wipes away some tears and runs out of the marui. "Lo'ak come over here!!!" jake was going to stop lo'ak, but you stop him. "What do you want him to stay for?" you were annoyed, jake was always going overboard with lo'ak. He didn't half like how he talked to his son. "Why do you keep comparing lo'ak to neteyam? They are completely different people. Besides this whole situation is not his fault" you speak.
"But he knows he shouldn't take you to that place," Jake speaks. "Jake, I'm a grown woman…I do what I want. And I'm getting sick and tired of this attitude you have with our kids. I'm reaching my limit" you were so upset, you were turning red with anger. "Y/N listen to me" jake tries to speak.
"I don't want to listen to you…this isn't something that's happening now. This has been going on for years. Have you ever wondered why your children look at you with fear, because yes, they are afraid of you? Have you ever asked them how they feel or what they want to do, no. You just give orders and think that everyone is doing what they want to do. You just give orders and think everyone here is going to follow them." You yell, pacing a bit all over the marui. Neytiri was sitting on the floor watching and listening to all the discussion. She wasn't saying anything, because she knows you were right.
"I think I'm tired of this…I love you Jake, I love you with all my soul, but I think it's best if we go back to our home… "You lower your head, you felt bad and this whole situation was exhausting you more. You didn't want it to escalate to this level. "Let's go home?" jake gets a little confused, glancing quickly at neytiri. She lifts her shoulders, she didn't know what you were talking about. "I will go with lo'ak to our home, live with mo'at. If any of the children want to leave with me I will take them. But I will not leave them here…getting this treatment. Because they deserve to have a normal childhood" you had tears in your eyes. Leaving Jake there silent and stunned, as you walked towards the Marui's balcony. Neytiri gets up quickly chasing after you.
"Y/N!!!" neytiri holds your hand, you didn't want to look at her. You were too overwhelmed. "Tell me what you are saying is not true. You love us, you love me and Jake. We can work this out." neytiri makes you look at her. She knew you were right, but she couldn't let you go. Let one of her children go away. "I can't stand jake" you yell a little. Neytiri stands there in silence, she knew you weren't really saying it, you loved Jake. Something was happening to you. "You are not serious" neytiri sounded sad. "Ney…let's go away, the two of us, let's go back home. I need to be home" you start crying, the more you talk. Neytiri pulls you to her chest, wrapping you in a very tight hug. "Ma y/n…be calm. I miss our home too" says neytiri. Sitting there, with you in her arms.she sensed something was happening to you, something in you was changing, you weren't like that. Meanwhile, Jake was not far from you. He felt so bad…this was his fault.
"Do you think mom will leave us?" tuk looks at neteyam and kiri. The group of kids had been spying on their parents, when they saw lo'ak come out of the marui. The boy was sitting next to neteyam. He was still teary-eyed. "Well I'm going to my mama's," said lo'ak, he was upset. "I…I don't know. But I don't want mom to leave" neteyam looks back inside the marui. This is the first time he has seen his parents argue like this.
P.s I promise I will upload the next part soon. But I would like to know what you guys think so far. And what do you think is going to happen?
Tag: @baybaybear1@hoodiepandaninja16@teyyyteyyy@anika-rose-walker@victoria2054 @raviolisblog @jessi-dan@neteyams-wh0re@jimfiqs@bitchykittenconnoisseur@chershire23@holynightnacho@danilezilla @thepotatoislost
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findmeinforks · 4 months
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Stay - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader
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Happy 2024! I honestly didn't know what to call this, but I just kept writing and now I'll probably need a part 2 🙃 enjoy 💕 2.8K words
"You have no idea how excited I am. I mean just how long have I been begging you to come live with me?" Emily grinned into the phone that was tucked between her shoulder and ear. She paced the kitchen while whisking a bowl of brownie mix, mindlessly chatting away.
"I must warn you though that the house does get chaotic. But the boys are pretty good about keeping up after themselves," she said while swatting away Embry's hand that almost made a dip in the bowl. He put his hands up in self defense as she rolled her eyes.
"Sounds great. Sam will pick you up at the airport tomorrow at noon. Let me know if you need anything else, and have a safe flight. I love you!" She she set the bowl on the counter, hanging up the phone.
"Was that Y/N? She's moving in tomorrow?" Quil questioned from the table with a mouth full of chips.
"Yes, and I trust that you boys will be on your best behavior in welcoming her..." Emily raised her eyebrow as she pointed a dripping whisk of batter at all the men now surrounding the kitchen.
"Depends, is she hot?" Embry snickered as he sat down.
"Oh....she is." Quil emphasized with wide eyes.
"Get it Embry!" Paul snorted as he clapped him on the back, reaching over into Quil's bag of chips.
"They WILL be on their best behavior. And no one will be 'getting' shit." The booming voice of Sam emerged behind Emily, wrapping his arms around her torso.
He reached his head over her shoulder as she let him lick what was left on the whisk, earning a disgusted "Seriously?" from Quil.
"Hey, but what if she's my imprint??" Embry held his up his finger to argue.
"You know that would be a different story...but we know already she isn't Quil's" Sam smirked at the youngest pack members now disappointed face.
"You guys are kidding right? I've seen pictures. Shes insanely out of all your leagues." Jacob quipped as he strolled to the living room.
"Anything is better than my crushes newborn infant..." Embry muttered under his breath, making all the boys cower in laughter.
"Oh yeah? You wanna say that again?" Jacob challenged.
Sam walked around in between them, looking from side to side at them both.
"THIS is what Emily is talking about. Keep the fights outside boys. I mean it. Just because Y/N knows about the pack doesn't mean she won't get scared if you clowns nearly phase in the kitchen. Are we clear?"
The two reluctantly nodded, Jacob sulking away to the living room.
"But come on, that was kinda funny.." Embry whispered, making the other boys giggle.
Paul shook his head with a smile at his little brother, leaving the room to shower before dinner.
-
There was something about the conversation that stuck with Paul throughout the night. Since Sam had met Emily, all of his brothers wanted imprints. They all saw what it was like to have one up close, and craved it desperately. He grimaced at the thought. The idea of a "soulmate" sounded ridiculous to Paul.
The problem wasn't that he didn't believe in it. Anybody could see the intense love that imprints had for one another, their bond growing with them until old age.
But Paul was not familiar with the term love. He never did get to see the love between his father and mother. She had been his imprint, but passed long before Paul could remember much about her. He watched his father struggle emotionally, never being able to get through the grief of her loss. Sure, he raised Paul as best he could, but deep down it was his mother that would have filled the void in their quiet house.
Things did get a little brighter when Paul joined the pack. For the first time he truly felt like he was part of a real family. He came home to hot meals, genuine laughter, and lively conversation. Not only had he gained a group of brothers, but ones with unwavering loyalty. None of them ever strayed away when Paul lost control of his temper, and were the first ones to help him learn to control it.
Maybe that was the reason he never looked for anything serious when it came to women. What was the point? One little outburst and they were out the door quicker than they had come in. He didn't allow himself to feel anything for them, because they'd end up leaving, and he was saving himself the heart break anyways.
Paul lay awake that night certain about one thing, he didn't need an imprint.
-
You inhaled the crisp fall air. Smiling wide as you looked up the steps to the new home awaiting you, the patio adorned in different flowers and cutesy outdoor decor.
"Oh Em it's just how I remember. You always make it look so cozy," you said as you squeezed the arm of your cousin beside you.
She returned your same smile.
"You're too sweet. I just can't believe you're really here. Come on, I'll introduce you to the boys."
You followed her up the steps, walking through the door to the warm smell of baked goods, no doubt that Emily had been up all night. You chuckled to yourself as you remember how she would go overboard on food whenever she was excited about something and couldn't sleep.
What you weren't used to, however, was being greeted by the several shirtless men. All incredibly in shape with tattoos on their arms, you might have been intimidated if it weren't for their cheesy smiles.
Emily gestured to each of them,
"You remember Quil, and that's Embry, Jacob, Seth, andddd well," she looked around puzzled for a moment. "I guess I'll introduce you to Paul whenever he comes around."
You waved at Quil and shook the other's hands.
There must have been some sort of inside joke, because as you finished with introductions you saw Sam laugh while they collectively let out a small sigh.
You don't think you were meant to hear it, but you caught Sam whisper at Embry,
"Better luck next time kid."
Emily didn't make a big deal of whatever it was, guiding you to your room.
After you got settled in, you found yourself strolling the hallway, looking over all the framed pictures on the wall. You had been over the moon when Emily had found Sam. You've never seen her so happy before, and you could tell he looked at her in the exact same way.
Not paying attention when the bathroom door opened, you collided with a large bare chest that stepped into the hall.
You gasped as two strong arms to match caught you before you fell, luckily, and you embarrassingly faced the one man you of course had no former introduction with.
"I am so, so sorry. I-"
"No no it's fine, are you-"
Both of you started and stopped mid sentence. Your attention had been captured when you two locked eyes. It was like you had been anchored to the floor by them. This warm, fuzzy energy had your entire body buzzing. It was so silent that you could hear your own blood flow in your ears. You furrowed your eyebrows in the haze. What the hell...
"ARE YOU SHITTING ME??"
A loud voice cut through the trance and you flinched at the abrupt sound. The man held you slightly tighter for a moment, as if he was about to protect you from whatever had interrupted you both in this hypnotic state.
Turning around so you both could see that the voice had been Embry, the man looked back and quickly dropped his arms, as if he just realized he had been holding you that whole time.
An unfamiliar emptiness lingered when he let go. He quickly averted his gaze, mumbling another apology before brushing past you, into a room, shutting the door.
-
His imprint. Right there. In the hallway of his own home.
Paul couldn't breathe.
He sat on the edge of his bed, nervously running his hands through his hair in a panic.
You were beautiful.
Breathtaking.
Your smell was intoxicating and your skin was so, so very soft. Your voice sounded like an angel. Your hair-
No.
No, he couldn't let himself think like this. He didn't need an imprint. Didn't even want one in the first place.
Was this some kind of sick joke the universe was playing on him? This girl could have anyone she wants. Why him?
Emily's call for dinner had him taking deep breaths. He could do this. They could live amongst eachother and not have to talk. There's ton of people in this house, it would be rare that the two of them would ever be alone. Right? Right. He could do this.
He walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. Wake up. It's just some girl. No different than the many that he had been with. Hell, if he could have sex with someone and never think of them again, he could do it. They had barely exchanged a sentence. Barely touched. He would be fine.
-
You sat down at the table, trying to behave as normal as possible. What happened in the hall was nothing. Whiplash. Yes, it was probably the whiplash from running into him. The poor guy seemed shy, and he was most likely just as shook up as you. It was a small accident and nothing more. He certainly didn't seem angry or upset, just caught off guard.
But wow....was he handsome. Certainly more attractive than any lousy guy you'd ever been with. He had this aroma of sandalwood and forest that was enchanting.
Okay, slow down Y/N. Let's not walk in on the first day and jump on some guy. After all, you two are going to be living together. Maybe don't make him uncomfortable in his own home. You shook your head to yourself. Just forget about the whole thing and it will be fine.
Luckily, Emily had started conversations around the table, easily able to take your mind elsewhere.
That was, until he came in the room. There was a beat of silence when he entered, the other boys seeming to look at him like they were anticipating something. When he didn't make a sound or even look up to anyone, slumping at the table and taking a plate, the conversations arose again.
Dinner was excellent as usual for Emily's cooking, and besides your beating heart constantly begging you to look at the man near the end of the table, it was almost normal.
It was when Emily put delicious brownies on the table, that it took a turn for the worse.
"I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN. SHUT THE FUCK ALONE ABOUT IT" Everyone's head turned to the angry voice. It was him. He was so visibly upset that he was shaking, staring daggers at Embry beside him. Slamming his fists on the table as he stood up, you let an audible gasp slip.
That's when he looked at you for the second time that night. It was a far reach, but somehow you saw his eyes soften. The crinkles of anger in his eyebrows vanished, and he swallowed, before bolting out the door. Sam immediately followed, and Emily sighed, reaching out to touch your arm.
"I'm sorry about Paul. He's very.....expressive sometimes."
Paul.
-
"Leave me alone Sam."
Paul sighed through the mind link, his large wolf racing through the trees.
He didn't mean it. He never means it. But Embry would simply not stop talking. First it was meaningless. He asked what imprinting felt like. Paul had shrugged it off as nothing crazy, hoping he'd drop it there. Then, he had asked him if he planned on pursuing the imprint. Of course he told him he wasn't. He didn't need a soulmate. No matter what his instincts told him. But then, Embry had smiled and thanked him, telling him that you were now "fair game".
That had been when he lost it.
He stopped on the edge of a cliff, breathing in the fresh water air. Sam slowly approached his side.
"Embry only said that to get a rise out of you, you know."
Paul scoffed.
"He can do whatever he wants. I don't care about her."
"Oh you don't?" Sam didn't sound so convinced.
"Even if I did, she wouldn't want me. Did you....did you see the look on her face when I yelled?" Paul replayed it over and over. You had looked absolutely frightened.
"There is a reason she was chosen to be your imprint Paul. You don't know Y/N. She is patient, and most of all understanding. If you talked to her-"
"I don't need to talk to her. I am perfectly fine alone. I don't need a woman, and I definitely don't need an imprint."
Sam sighed.
"Paul. You can do what you want. I'm not the type of alpha to force you to love someone. But believe me when I say that I had a dark past. I was also comfortable with being alone. Emily is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Having a conversation with her doesn't mean there will be wedding bells tomorrow. All I'm saying is you don't know unless you try."
Paul nodded, and Sam left him with his thoughts.
-
You stared at the numbers on your phone screen. 2:00am. You huffed in frustration. Your mind had been a constant replay of the events today, your mind spiraling. You had settled on the fact things around here were weird, when you had visited Emily and accidentally caught sight of Sam in wolf form. But this energy couldn't have anything to do with that. Could it?
You decided to make yourself some tea to try and relax. Knowing Emily you knew there had to be some in the kitchen. You tip toed in the dark, your body stiffening as you recognized a familiar muscular back that sat at the kitchen table in a dim light.
You were ready to retreat back to your room when he turned his head around to look at you.
Damn, wolves must have good hearing.
"I was just....going to make some tea.." you pointed to the cabinet awkwardly.
He nodded, looking back down at what appeared to be a cup of coffee.
He couldn't sleep either?
You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the counter as you awaited the kettle, praying that if you stared at it long enough, it would speed up the process.
-
Fuck, was this torture. You were like a goddess, standing there in your pajamas, hair astray and up in a haphazard bun. He imagined walking up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, soaking in your warmth while he pressed gentle kisses on your neck. He wondered what it sounded like to hear you laugh...
STOP STARING. Say something. Anything. Just. Try.
He cleared his throat. It must have startled you because you quickly turned to face him.
"I'm...sorry. About what you saw earlier. That's not like me. I-Embry, he can get under my skin sometimes," he rubbed the back of his head.
"But that's no excuse. I'm-um, Im Paul, by the way."
He lifted his hand up in an almost wave. Why was he so awkward? He was never this way with women.
You giggled, and suddenly, he felt like he was in heaven.
"Y/N. And no worries at all, Emily said you can be....'expressive' sometimes."
He chuckled.
"That's one word for it. But I just don't want to scare you off..."
"Well. I think if knowing that you can all turn into a large creatures who can rip me apart and that doesn't scare me away, I think you were okay." You smiled. He could look at that smile forever.
-
He was actually talking to you. Man, was his laugh so perfect. You could talk with him forever.
The kettle screeched, and you reluctantly made your tea.
"Well....I guess I'll see you around, Paul." You took your mug and headed for your room.
-
His name on her tongue. He wanted her to say it again.
"You can stay. If-if you want. I, uh, I don't...know much about you."
You smiled.
"I'd like that."
To be continued......
977 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 8 months
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Batting Practice Part 32 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley understands more each day what it means to be Everett's dad. He's ready to do all of the fun father and son stuff, along with the important things that will keep Everett safe and happy. The three of you are ready to become the Bradshaws.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, fighting
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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The white board on your refrigerator had been updated by Everett. There was only one day left until Bradley was going to adopt him, and your body was thrumming with anticipation. The three of you were about to become the Bradshaws, for real.
Your husband made your home so much warmer. His big shoes were lined up next to yours and Everett's inside the front door. His schedule was hanging next to the white board so he knew which days he needed to wear his flight suit. His favorite beer was in a battle for precious real estate against your cold brew coffee. For someone who claimed he never had a real home before this since his mom died, he was doing a great job of making yours even better. 
"We're heading to the park for a bit," Bradley said, wrapping his arm casually around your waist from behind as you made dinner. "We'll be back in less than an hour." He kissed the side of your neck and held you snug against him for a beat. "I love you."
How was living without him ever supposed to compete with this? You turned and watched him take Everett by the hand, and they walked out to the Bronco talking a mile a minute about math homework and batting averages. 
You were trying to make a special dinner, because Molly was coming over with Bob. He'd arrived back in San Diego earlier this morning, and Molly texted you to let you know she was taking Bob home for a long nap, and then they would be over. A long nap sounded like a euphemism for some freaky sex, but you were just pleased that he was back and that Molly was happy. 
Your sister and Bob walked in at the same time that Bradley and Everett returned from the park. "Uncle Bob! I missed you!" your son shouted, running across the living room to his former tee ball coach and perhaps someday uncle. Bob knelt down and collected him in a tight hug. "And Aunt Molly missed you so much. She ate a lot of chocolate and cried sometimes."
You watched Bob glance up at Molly with such a lovesick expression, you had to turn away. "I missed you too, Ev," he replied. "And I missed your Aunt Molly and the baby. I heard you shared your candy with her."
"I did," he said proudly as you walked dinner over to the dining room table. Bradley pulled Bob into a brief hug, and then you kissed him softly on the cheek.
"How was your deployment? Uneventful, I hope?" you asked him with a smile.
"Another woman kissed him," Molly said, casually slipping into her usual seat and scooping food onto her plate as you gasped. "He doesn't understand how handsome he is."
"Mo," Bob groaned, sliding down in the seat next to her while his cheeks flushed pink. "Why are you telling them this?"
You made eye contact with Bradley across the room, and he shrugged, just as confused as you were. "Is everything okay?" you asked cautiously. 
But Bob was kissing Molly's fingertips as she ran her nose along his cheek as if she hadn't just made that announcement to the room. They still looked as in love as they always did, and Molly's face was placid as she started scooping dinner onto Everett's plate. 
"Everything's fine," Bob said, nodding at you. "I had no idea anything like that could even happen. I'll be more proactive in the future."
"Yes," Molly agreed. "No more gray sweatpants on deployments. We both learned our lesson."
"Gray sweatpants?" you asked as you sat down across from Molly. "You wore gray sweatpants in front of someone other than Molly?"
Bob cradled his face in embarrassment, pinching his nose just below his glasses. "I did. I told you it was a bad idea from the start, Honey," he whispered to Molly. 
"You wore them in public?!" Bradley nearly shouted. "Bob, that's bedroom attire."
"I know that now," Bob bit back. "Nothing happened. Nothing else is ever going to happen. Can we eat dinner and stop talking about it?" he asked, wrapping his arm around Molly's shoulder. "I missed being here. I'm happy I made it back in time for Bradley and Everett's big day. I just want to be with my family."
Molly pecked him on the cheek. "You're hot, Cowboy Bob. You can't afford the luxury of making late night friends on deployments. It doesn't matter who they are, they probably want to fuck you."
"Molly!" you growled, tossing your fork down and glaring at her as you nodded to Everett. 
But your son just shrugged. "It's okay. I already heard dad say it before. I know it's an adult word. It's cool."
Bradley noisily dished more food onto everyone's plates as you shook your head at him. "This is delicious, Kitten. Wow, you've outdone yourself. You want more, Molly? Have some more."
You closed your eyes and sighed. Bradley and Molly were more similar than they'd like to think. And Bob was definitely a catch even if he didn't feel like one. And you were too thankful for all of them to put up much of a fuss. "After we eat, let's talk about a game plan for tomorrow."
"Adoption day," Everett said, all smiles for Bradley. 
"I love you, Ev," your husband told him, scooping a little more food onto his plate. You could tell your son would never get tired of hearing that, and neither would you.
--------------------------
"Are you guys nervous?" you asked as Bradley pulled into the municipal parking lot behind the courthouse.
"Nope," Bradley and Everett replied in unison. Bradley was ready for this. Any apprehension he'd felt leading up to this afternoon was related to Danny, but your lawyer assured you that there would be no contest over the state of Everett's adoption. 
"I'm a little nervous," you muttered, wrapping your hand around Bradley's after he turned the key in the ignition. "Why aren't Molly and Bob here yet?"
"We're early, Kitten," he muttered, leaning across the seat to give you a kiss. He turned around to smile at Ev, sitting in his booster seat. They were wearing matching blue dress shirts and jeans, and Everett was holding his Phillies cap. "Hey, kiddo. When I drop you off at school tomorrow, I'll bring the paperwork so they know it's okay for you to write Everett Bradshaw on your homework, okay?"
Everett nodded in response. "And do you think my teacher will change the name tag on my desk? I don't like my old name anymore."
You unbuckled your seatbelt and snuggled against his chest as Bradley said, "I'll make sure it gets changed. It's not going to be an issue."
The three of you sat there for a couple minutes as Bradley rubbed your back. He answered every question Everett asked him.
"What was your dad's name again? And didn't he have a call sign too? Was your mom's last name Bradshaw? How many Bradshaws are there?"
If only they could be here today, Bradley was sure he would get to see his mom doting on Everett. Goose would have been all too happy to spread the Bradshaw name around. He knew his parents would be proud of him. "My dad was Nick Bradshaw, and his call sign was Goose." Everett giggled, and Bradley laughed too. "It's even sillier than Rooster, huh?"
"I like my call sign better than the bird ones," Everett said. 
"Me too," Bradley whispered, registering that you were wiping your eyes. "Goose would have liked it the most." 
"Grampa Goose would have liked my call sign?" Everett asked in surprise, and Bradley nodded silently, taking a few breaths to steady himself. 
"Grampa Goose would have liked everything about you."
"Bradley," you whispered, squeezing him tight. His heart could only take so much before he started crying, too. So he kissed your forehead and wiped your cheeks.
"Let's start heading inside," he whispered. "Molly and Bob will be here soon, I'm sure."
When he opened his door and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, Bradley's eyes met Danny's from several cars away. He tried to ignore your ex husband as he scooped Everett out of the booster seat and set him down. He tried his best to avoid him until everyone went inside. But as you walked around the Bronco and took Ev's hand in yours, Bradley heard Danny laugh sardonically. 
"It's about time. I was worried you were backing out of getting this kid off my hands. I really don't feel like paying child support."
Bradley's vision wavered. He could hear a high pitched buzzing in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to permanently wipe that smirk off of Danny's face as he slammed the driver's door closed. 
"What did you just say to me?" Bradley snarled, rolling his neck as he strolled toward Danny. 
"You heard me just fine," he replied, squaring his shoulders and smirking. "But I wouldn't have blamed you for backing out. She's an annoying handful even without the kid. Should have used two condoms." But when Bradley got right up into his personal space, Danny started to look a little scared. 
Bradley had some weight on him, and he could take a few punches, no problem. His jaw flexed and he curled his hands into fists as he said, "Don't you fucking dare talk about my family like that." 
Chest to chest, he pushed Danny back against an SUV. Bradley could hear you calling his name, panic lacing your voice, but he couldn't stop now. Rage flowed through his body. If Danny didn't punch him, he was most definitely going to be the one to do it. 
"Your family is a joke," Danny said softly. "You tried sleeping with her sister yet?"
That was it. Bradley shoved him with his left hand as he drew back his right fist, but before he could do much of anything else, strong arms wrapped around him from behind and pinned his arms to his sides. Bob's voice was in his ear as he tried his best to pull Bradley backwards. 
"Come on, Rooster. You don't want to do this. Ev is watching."
Bradley let Bob yank him a few more feet away from Danny, and then he turned to see you, Ev and Molly all standing by the Bronco looking terrified. 
"You're not fucking worth it, you piece of shit," Bradley told Danny who was still smiling like a prick. 
"Thanks for giving me the best day of my life," he replied, straightening out his shirt and winking. Bob kept a good hold on Bradley until Danny was inside the courthouse.
"You okay?" he asked, and Bradley shook him off. The thing was this really was the best day of Bradley's life. Or maybe the second best. Either way, he didn't want to ruin it now.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. And then he was scooping Everett into his arms. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I didn't mean to scare you."
"I don't like my old dad," he replied softly, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck. 
"I promise, this is the last time you'll ever have to see him." Everett nodded against Bradley's shoulder as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours. "I'm sorry, Kitten."
"I don't want you to get in trouble, Bradley," you said, voice shaky. "He's not even worth it."
"I know," he replied softly, kissing your cheek and nodding at Bob. "He's so horrible, I can't understand how Ev is perfect."
You kind of shrugged and said, "It's like he was never there, Coach. It was like we were just waiting for you the whole time. You were tailor made for us."
Bradley wore those words with pride as Bob held the door open, and he carried Everett inside the courthouse behind you and Molly. He didn't even look at Danny again. Instead he focused on his son and his wife. He let Molly distract him. He kept his arms wrapped around Everett until the judge called them all up to the front of the room. 
And then it was scary how fast everything moved. It was unsettling how easily Danny announced to the entire fucking room that he wanted nothing to do with Everett. He didn't want his own son. Bradley listened to him say, "I contest nothing. I relinquish all of my rights." 
And even though Bradley knew Everett was excited that he was being adopted, those words from his biological father packed a punch. Maybe Everett didn't understand their full meaning yet, but Bradley definitely did. 
When the judge asked Bradley to confirm that he wanted to adopt Everett, he reached for Ev's hand. This perfect kid was looking right up at him with innocent, trusting eyes and a worried expression. Bradley felt your hand on his back, and he could hear you crying softly. 
"Do you want to adopt your wife's child?" the judge asked again.
Did he want to? More than anything. He could hardly believe he was even allowed to do something so grand and meaningful. It was hard for him to acknowledge that Everett wanted him. 
"Yes, I want to adopt you, Everett. I can't wait to be your dad. It kind of feels like I've already been your dad for months and months, kiddo."
That sweet face erupted into a bright smile. "Yeah, it's been a good couple of months, Coach."
Bradley laughed in spite of himself, and he felt your hand drop down to lace fingers with him. "The best. And now it's going to be forever. Yes, I want to adopt you." Then he turned to kiss your forehead before looking at the judge. "Yes, I want to adopt Everett."
"And you'll take full, permanent legal custody?"
"Yes. Happily." He smiled down at Everett before scooping him up with his right arm while still holding your hand with his left. He felt his eyes prickle with the feeling of unshed tears when Ev wrapped his arms around his neck, just knowing he'd be safe and loved. 
"Then I grant Bradley Bradshaw full legal custody." 
Even though Bradley expected to hear those words today, he felt his tears finally give way. "I love you," he whispered, burying his face against Everett. "Thanks for letting me be your dad."
Then Bradley's lips were on yours, and you wrapped your arms around both of them. And Bradley hadn't felt this much love since he was a little boy. He was getting a second chance at having a perfect little family of three. And he'd do everything he could to keep this feeling. 
"Thank you, Kitten," he gasped, letting you wipe his tears away with your soft fingertips. Bradley was vaguely aware that Danny had quickly signed a few papers and turned to stroll out of the courtroom, just going along with his day like none of this was important. But it was important to Bradley. And it was important to Everett. And he refused to release his grip on you or his son as he signed his own set of paperwork a little awkwardly fumbling the pen a bit.
"That's it?" he asked the clerk who collected the paperwork. "I'm his dad now, for real? He can change his last name to Bradshaw?"
And Bradley got the perfect response. "That's it. He's your son."
"He's my son!" Bradley shouted, releasing your hand and hugging a happy, giggling Everett. "He's my son." He carried Everett across the room to where Molly had tears streaming down her cheeks as she held Bob's hand. 
"You know, I'm not even going to call you a turd for the rest of the day," she sobbed, reaching up to give Bradley a kiss on the cheek. "I'm happy for you, Ev," she told her nephew. "We were pretty good before, but we're better with Bradley."
"And Uncle Bob," Everett added, reaching out to give Bob a high five.
"Yes," Molly agreed, "and Uncle Bob." She looked up at her boyfriend with adoration. "I love my family."
Bradley loved this family, too. And he was never going to stop talking about it. And he was never going to set Everett down. And he was never going to stop doting on the two of you. 
"I can't believe you're really ours now," you whispered as tears shone in your eyes. "Officially."
"You're the loves of my life, Kitten. Both of you."
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As Bradley settled into a chair at the table with the paper tablecloth and crayons, he kept Everett on his lap. He didn't need to look at the menu. You already knew what kind of pizza and beer everyone liked. When the waitress came to take the order, Bradley added, "And some apple juice for my son, please."
And next thing he knew, Molly was crying in the seat across from him, insisting they were all just happy tears. And then Nat showed up with a bunch of balloons that said #1 DAD. And you kept calling him Everett's father and leaning in to kiss him. 
"Stop, please," Bradley said, holding a napkin underneath the piece of pizza that Everett was eating. He caught the sauce before it dripped onto Ev's lap and added, "I can only take so much before I start crying again."
He had cried in the Bronco on the way to the restaurant. Then he cried harder when Everett asked him, "Why are you crying, dad?" And now he felt those same happy tears once again. 
"I think it's sweet," you told him with a soft smile. "All the tears."
"I'm barely holding it together, Kitten," he whispered, catching more of Everett's sauce on the napkin. "It's overwhelming."
When everyone was finished eating, there was a battle over who was going to pay. Bradley watched everyone pull out their wallets and credit cards, a cacophony erupting about why each person wanted to treat him to his first dinner as a dad. But he stood up, still holding onto Everett. "I want to pay!" he said, letting Everett stand on the empty chair next to him. "Because until very recently, I never knew how badly I needed to treat my family to a pizza night." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Nat, you've been my friend and family for the longest. And I love you for that."
She smiled at him and nodded. "Love you too, Bradshaw."
Bradley reached out a hand to fist bump Bob. "And then Bob became a friend that morphed into family, all because of tee ball. And now I have a sister-in-law who likes to pick on me relentlessly. You better marry him, Molly."
She just kind of shrugged, but Bradley didn't miss the coy smile on her lips. "We'll see."
Then Bradley turned to you and leaned down to kiss your lips. "I never thought I'd have a sister-in-law, because I never thought I'd be lucky enough to get married in the first place. But I love you, Kitten. I'm gonna love you forever. Both of you."
"You're the best thing that ever happened to us, Coach," you whispered, brushing your lips against his again. 
And then Bradley turned his attention to Everett. "But you've made me feel complete, kiddo. A son? On top of everything else? It doesn't seem possible. But I can't wait to do all the father and son stuff."
Then Everett simply said, "I love you, dad." 
"I love you, too."
Bradley paid for dinner and carried his son out to the parking lot. And the whole way home, he held your hand. "What do the two of you think about Disney World for winter break? Or we could go to Phillies spring training? But we don't want to risk missing Ev's cousin being born. So I was thinking a trip to Philadelphia next summer instead? Maybe catch a Phillies doubleheader, meet the Phanatic, and eat some cheesesteaks. Just the three of us."
"Yes!" Everett cheered from the backseat, pumping his fists in the air. "I can get the Phanatic to sign my baseball card!"
"Well?" Bradley asked you as he pulled into the driveway while Everett sang the Phillie Phanatic song. "What do you wanna do, Kitten?"
You unbuckled yourself and crawled across the seat, wrapping your arms around his neck, and Bradley melted into your touch. Your lips brushed his, and he smiled as you said, "Anything. As long as it's the three of us."
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THE BRADSHAWS! It has been a pleasure writing and posting this series for the past seven months! I loved all of the comments and reblogs and feedback. Part 33 will be the epilogue! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you for the banner @mak-32
PART 33
Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
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nnight-dances · 9 months
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CHERRY-FLAVOURED
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PAIRING: choi seungcheol x f!reader (ft. kwon soonyoung & kim mingyu)
GENRE: fluff, angst
TROPES: small town au!, exes to lovers, jealousy, idiots in love, fake dating (w/ soonyoung), you own a small bookstore and i never mention what seungcheol does (but just know he's rich).
RECOMMENDED: reading ADORABLY, YOURS before this, since this is the same seungcheol and i make a few references to what happened there.
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"Oh, did you hear? Seungcheol's back in town!" Nayeon calls out with a lopsided smile she thinks is inconspicuous. You think it's obnoxious. 
But you don't let her know how much the news bothers you, pretending to instead by absorbed in currently trying to get your hair to sit right in a ponytail. "Sure," you reply, not breaking eye-contact with yourself in the mirror. 
Your roommate quickly catches though because she appears by your shoulder in the mirror, eyes narrowing. "Right. And you're fine with it?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" you mutter, devoting every fibre of your being to make your tone stay flat.
"I don't know, the way you've been working on this ponytail for the past fifteen minutes had me thinking otherwise," she shrugs, "And the fact that it still looks like shit from the back."
You scoff in offense, "All my baby hair makes it real hard to do this, okay!" But Nayeon's already making her way back to the kitchen to finish her breakfast with a teasing giggle and you watch her in dismay, wondering if not only your hairstyle but also your acting had really been that bad.
And as you spin around to face your reflection, you figure that the general bad-ness of your life might have something to with Seungcheol's return to town after all. Not that you would ever admit it, for many reasons. But mainly because of the fact that he's your ex-boyfriend. 
You liked to think you'd ended things with him on a good note– there hadn't been too many tears or screams and you still would catch up with him whenever you ran into him, an occurrence that was basically inevitable given how small your town was. But ever since he'd left on trip to visit his much-famed best friend, Jeonghan, you'd finally gotten around to thinking about why you were still single despite having left a long-term relationship for over a month.  
…Which led to a series of messy first dates with the few tolerable men in town who would otherwise have you cringing at the thought of talking to them. And well, actually going out with them convinced you your first impressions were always right and your intuition was all-knowing. 
– 
Meet Soonyoung, the man who would almost unmistakably come around asking for gum in your store. Your bookstore. 
You couldn't figure out if it was a honest fault of his personality or if he was doing it to annoy you– until one afternoon you found it was something much worse: he was flirting with you.
"Y/N, your hair looks cute today," he's telling you through a grin right now. You look away from the computer screen where you've been logging the new stock of books in, ready to tell him thanks and that you needed to hear that since your beloved roomate insulted you this morning. You don't get around to saying all that because you spot a figure entering the store behind Soonyoung, where he's leaning on the counter with his hands under his chin. He thinks he's slick but you know it's so he can show off his arms. 
You've forgotten all about Hoshi and his boyish charms because you notice the new customer is none other than the recent arrival to town, Seungcheol. 
You hate the way you can feel your heart skip a beat at the revelation so you quickly turn your head back to your screen. "Thanks, Soonyoung."
Thankfully, Hoshi doesn't seem to notice the stiffness of your clipped response and instead is distracted by a stack of plastic-wrapped books. 
"Wow, you sure have a lot of new stock coming in these days, huh?" 
You nod, still not looking away from the screen. "Yeah, I've been working on keep the shelves up to date with the new releases. I'm sick of people using the feedback box to curse me out for still placing the classics out front."
You hear a snort then and you immediately recognize it as not Soonyoung's. 
"You'd think that's how the feedback works, no?" 
Slowly you turn to look at him in the eyes, unsettled by the playful glint you find there. "...Can I help you?" you ask quietly, keeping your tone cordial but not too warm. Hoshi stands up straight with Seungcheol next to him, earning him a glance from the man. 
"Oh, did you finally hire a part-timer?" he asks. You consider throwing the stack of new books in your ex's face. And then you remember how much they cost. So instead, you settle on shaking your head. 
"No–" Hoshi cuts you off, though, much to your chagrin. 
"No, I'm just here giving Y/N company," he's saying and you really wish he wouldn't speak, but he goes on, "She's been pretty stressed out these days and last week–"
"Soonyoung," you look at him warningly, "do you think you could help me double-check if there's a delivery out front? I keep getting tracking updates that it's close."
"Of course!" he responds already reaching for the glass doors, "Be right back, Y/N!"
With Soonyoung gone, Seungcheol finally breaks into the guffaw you know he's been keeping in for the past five minutes. "What's that all about?"
"It's none of your business, Seungcheol," you inform him as you busy yourself with tidying up the stray pieces of gum wrapper Soonyoung had conveniently forgotten. 
"Oh, so you do remember who I am, after all?" You hate how much you like listening his voice turn slighly soft at the sound of his name on your lips. And the how your breath's a little uneven when he slides to invade your line of vision, big hands tapping at the counter to get your attention. As if you could possibly be thinking about anything else right now. 
"Why are you here, anyway?" you ask him, training your gaze on him. "Because I know, for a fact, you don't read." 
"I'm hurt, Y/N," Seungcheol gasps with a hand to his chest. His unbelievably firm chest. "And after I worked so hard to read that boring poem book for you?"
You almost seethe at the way he calls it a poem book but contain it with a grimace. "Can we get to the point here? I have a store to run, dude."
"I'm serious! I came here to find a book. Considering picking that poem book again, figure out what the big deal is for once and for all."
You stay still, unresponsive to his ridiculous excuse. Seungcheol waits a few beats, eyes locked with yours before giving in. "Fine. I was in town and wanted to see how you were doing." 
Never mind, you think you preferred to hear the ridiculous lies because the way your ex-boyfriend's gaze drops to your fists by your side has you immediately unfolding your grasp. Stupid Seungcheol and his ability to fuck up a perfectly okay daily routine. 
"Ugh," you sigh out after a moment, "Come on. I'll help you find the chapbook. But you have to promise to never call it a poem book ever again. Or I'm blacklisting you." 
You don't see it but when you spin around to march into the bookstore, expecting Seungcheol to follow you, he's all smiles, his own fists unravelling at the way your tone lost its cold somewhere along the way of this encounter. He skips behind you with a noise of excitement. 
"Okayyyy," you hum as you crouch by the poetry section, fingers expertly running through the spines of the thin books there. Seungcheol crouches by you, a little too close because his arm brushes against you, almost throwing you off-balance. 
You're about to tell him off for surprising you but he suddenly smiles, dimples so delicious in the soft glow of the light of the bookstore filtering through the bookshelves. "Your hair looks different," he comments, voice low and his gaze slowly follows the trail of your low ponytail, the thin grey band that holds the strands together clearly very worn-out. "Looks pretty." 
And where Seungcheol's wondering when you started wearing your hair up, you're incredibly flustered by his compliment. You stand up too quick, knee joints popping, and you think you must really be growing old when your vision blacks out a little. 
You steady yourself with a hand on the shelf, quietly scolding Seungcheol, "You're in the way." He joins you on his feet, making way with an exaggerated wave of his arm, not missing the way your ears are turning redder by the second.
You're gifted a good solid five minutes of peace as you inspect the shelves, wondering how you lost track of the chapbook, when Seungcheol speaks up again. "Um, so seriously, what's the deal with you and Soonyoung? You… seeing him?" 
For all his attempts at maintaining an air of nonchalance, Seungcheol can't help how irked he was when he walked into your bookstore to the sight of Soonyoung making conversation to you. Irksome especially more so because he'd heard you say that you hated having people around you while you did the boring but imperative computer-related stuff at work, something about wanting to get the misery out of the way as soon as possible. Yet, there Soonyoung had been, distracting you with all his airhead being. 
"I can't seem to locate the book right now for some reason," you start, doing nothing to ease Seungcheol's worries, "And I also can't seem to comprehend why my dating life is a point of discussion between us… anymore."
And wow, does your comment hurt. It hurts Seungcheol but also you, even as you're the one saying it because you can practically feel his mood dampening at your words. But the rational part of you is praising you for doing the right thing and setting your boundaries before you get any more carried away by your ex-boyfriend's ways. 
That afternoon Seungcheol leaves your bookstore, very empty-handed and extremely heart-broken, because as he exits, he can already hear Soonyoung asking if you wanted get lunch with him. 
– 
Speaking of lunch, enter Mingyu because eating out with someone, more often than not, meant making a trip to his humble but bustling restaurant. It was everything right with your small town: a simple menu that remained consistently mind-blowing no matter how many times you visited.
Wish you could say your friendship with Mingyu had maintained the same level of consistency as his culinary competence. 
And in your defense, you didn't know how much longer you could've gone ignoring the way Mingyu would take every opportunity to make you extra sides that you didn't order and send you specially curated handmade dinner-sets when he heard you were sick or too busy to eat. You hated it, crossing the friendzone you had so carefully placed him in, but one late night, when he showed up at your door in the rain just so he could deliver your food before it went cold, you caved and invited him in. 
So while you legally have no choice but to politely turn down Soonyoung's offer for lunch, you can't help that you find yourself walking to Mingyu's Kitchen on Saturday morning for some brunch because as much as you loved improvising with the two ingredients in your fridge, nothing beat the ramyeon he cooks. 
You're still groggy when you enter the cozy shop but the familiar scent iss already warming you up from the chilly air outside. Except you make eye-contact with the man as you step foot into the place. 
The man being Seungcheol, of course, because where you could handle fielding Mingyu's puppy eyes on you, a reminder that you hadn't texted him back yet– Seungcheol's intense glare fixed on you has you shaking in your boots. Literally. 
"...actually, I think I'll just eat here," you hear him call out as you approach the counter to place your order. Your head hurts already so you don't think too hard about Seungcheol's request to Sakura who nods with a smile. 
"Y/N!" Mingyu materializes in front of you with a beam to greet you and you think sunglasses might've been the way to go this morning. 
"Hey," you drag out the greeting, flinching at your own hoarse voice, "What's up, Gyu?"
"Nothin' much, just dealing with the usual Saturday morning rush, y'know? Maroon 5 should write a song about that instead of crying over Sunday mornings, don't you think?"
You're busy processing the tall man's chaotic train of thoughts when you hear Seungcheol laughing faintly. You glance at him, frowning when he's standing closer to you than you remember and then look back at Mingyu. "Ha, sorry it's so busy," you mumble.
"You don't sound so good. Did you catch something?" Mingyu inquires, brows furrowing and you genuinely love the man for his observance but dread its consequences nevertheless.
"Ahh, I mean, it's fine. Just a little cold from the wind," you clear your throat in an effort to sound better, "But I'll have a ramyeon for that very reason." You try to punctuate your sentence with a light-hearted chuckle but with your condition, it just kind of sounds like you're dying so you shut yourself up. 
"Feeling under the weather?" 
You look up from your phone screen, where you've been fixating all your attention so you can ignore the way Seungcheol's seated himself on the table right next to yours. This was the problem with eating out alone. The danger of your ex-boyfriend tailing you. You swear you're dragging Nayeon out after you next time, her fucked-up sleep schedule be damned. 
You shrug in response to his question, "I'm fine. Thanks for the concern."
"You're very welcome," comes his teasing reply, "But seriously, you've got to wear more layers than that if you want to make it to winter."
You look down at your long-sleeved top with a frown, "I think this attire is perfectly appropriate for the fall, actually." You tug at the sleeves so they cover your wrists as if to prove a point. 
Seungcheol raises a brow, "It would be a perfectly appropriate attire for someone who doesn't have the immune system of a rat."
Gasping, you shoot back, "Rude! I don't see why I have to stand this slander even when we're not together."
There it is. The words slip out your tongue before you have a minute to filter your thoughts and though things between you and Seungcheol are more chill than most former lovers, your sudden comment has the atmosphere turn ever so awkward, with his smile falling and your own turning sour. 
You sigh in relief when Sakura brings out a tray to Seungcheol's table that very moment, saving you just a little embarassment. "Enjoy your meal!" she smiles at him and then at you, "Your food will be out soon!" 
You nod, swallowing against your dry throat and watch as Seungcheol stares at his food wordlessly. You really had a way with words for someone who sold books for a living. Eventually, you go back to distracting yourself with your phone and he starts eating, suddenly laser-focused on his food. 
You're thankful for the space, until you see Mingyu making his way to your table with your tray in his hands. You don't know why he does that, bringing you your food despite being the head chef and owner of the place. Well, you do know why but you didn't have the energy to deal with the reasons today. 
Not with Seungcheol sitting right there, eyes on Mingyu's back as he places your food in front of you, grin intact. You're about to thank the man and hopefully, cut any conversation short but he beats you to it. 
"Here's your food, Y/N!" his voice borders on cracking but he goes on, "I made you some yuja-cha as well for your throat. And make sure you eat a lot of kimchi, okay? Let me know if you need anything else."
Slowly you nod, thanking him under your breath as he takes off and now it's your turn to stare at your food in silence while Seungcheol's shooting daggers your way. 
If he thought he was upset by your thing with Soonyoung, the way Mingyu was just all up in your space with his stupidly sweet gestures has Seungcheol… a lot more upset. 
"I thought Mingyu and you were just friends," he's voicing before he can help it. 
Your head snaps up in surprise but really, you should've seen this coming. You compose yourself, averting your eyes back to the warm food in your plate. "And I thought I made it clear that my dating life is none of your business."
"It's not my business," Seungcheol says, unconvincing to his own hears, "But it would be a problem if you were, you know, two-timing." 
Now you know Seungcheol is trying to get on your nerves because he knows how much you hate dishonesty and to accuse you of being disloyal is a low blow, really. But it works because you finally look back at him with eyes wide, "Of course I'm not. I slept with him like once!"
Where the news has Seungcheol feeling conflicted because where it was good to know that nothing was serious, it was also not fun to hear that you'd slept with him. But while he tried hard to not dwell on Mingyu's impressive physique, you were busy catching up with your own loss of control.
Because even despite your unintended confession that you hope you weren't too loud about, you quickly supply in a quiet voice, "...well, it was technically a date that led to sleeping– but it had nothing to do with Soonyoung— I don't even know why I'm telling you this!" 
You spend the rest of your brunch focusing on finishing your food and appropriately thanking Mingyu for the food, a little apologetic for many many reasons, so you can leave the same room as your ex-boyfriend faster. 
But he makes it real hard, because just as you step out of the restaurant and take a deep breath of the fresh September air to settle your nerves, you hear his voice calling you out. You stuff your hands into the pockets of your pants to brace yourself as you turn around, already starting to say something about how he needs to leave you alone and forget you said anything. 
"You left your phone behind!" he cuts you off, holding out the device for you to see. You curse under your breath, feeling incredibly ridiculous as you reach for it. 
"Thanks–"
And then he dodges your grasp, leaving you flailing around like an idiot while he looks on with an amused half-smile. Half a smile because he knows you would kill him and then yourself if he straight-out laughed at you. 
"I'll give it back if you unblock me."
Your shoulders slump and a groan leaves your lungs. "Seungcheol."
But his smile only widens because you may be glaring at him but you did just say his name. And a win is a win. 
"Seriously? You're holding my phone hostage just so you can blackmail me over something so petty? Come on!" 
"I'm sorry, do you know how many seal memes you've been missing out on since you blocked me? This is no laughing matter."
"I'm not the one laughing," you snap and then cross your arms in exasperation, "Don't be a child, dude, and just give me my phone."
"Why did you block me anyway?"
You raise your brows at him as if to say really? but he maintains his smile and you groan again. You hate him for knowing that you hadn't blocked him right after the breakup thanks to someone's insistence on thinking seal memes were funny and that the real resaon you'd blocked him was–
"–Siri kept recommending your contact every single time I would go to make a phone call! Heck, I couldn't even text Nayeon to get me a towel in the shower because the messages app would automatically redirect to you."
Seungcheol watches in awe as he connects the dots in his head and mutters, "You still had me saved as kkmua's dad?" You look away but your silence is enough of an answer. 
It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the reason your phone confused Seungcheol with Nayeon because he was kkuma's dad and she was kookeu's mom– an idea a drunk you had found incredibly hilarous. The similarity in their spelling had your algorithm all fooled every time you typed in one or the other's name in a rush. Still, you wish Seungcheol was a little dumber sometimes. 
Now as you look at Seungcheol you can see he's thinking of something. Most likely considering the question: Why didn't you change it? 
"I was too lazy to change it back, okay? Blocking you was obviously the easier choice."
"I didn't say anything," he tells you with an easy smile, clearly pleased to see you flushed. "For what it's worth, you're still promising young woman in my contacts. And I didn't even have to block you."
It's probably because you've seen Seungcheol so much more than the past two months in the past two days, but you find yourself moved by his words. They're not that meaningful really, he's just bringing up a past inside joke in that reassuring tone of his. But you can't help but smile. 
"I hate you," you breathe out and in the context of the conversation, it makes enough sense. But Seungcheol's dimples deepen because in the context of your history with him, the words are a consolation. 
He only becomes certain of it later that night when he's washed up and throws himself into his sheets to find his phone lighting up in the darkness. It's you. 
promising young woman sent you a link 
promising young woman: rats actually have a great immune system so joke's on u 
And that's all it takes for Seungcheol to go back to his lovesick self, squeaking into his pillow as he reads your text over and over until he can comprehend that not only have you unblocked him of your own accord (debatable) but were also texting him first. 
– 
The next time you run into Seungcheol, it really brings his contact name to life. But before that, enter Soobin, a shy blonde who's recently moved to the town. 
"You like Lamp, huh?" 
Soobin jumps around, eyes flailing around as if you'd caught him red-handed. And you might as well have, what with how he'd been humming and swaying to the music leaking out of the speakers in your bookstore. You'd enjoyed watching the younger man visit the store more frequently the past few weeks, always in the evening hours when you would finally break open your playlists, a luxury you only allowed near closing time. 
"Ha," he nervous laughs, "Y-Yeah… Sorry, I didn't think you were still here."
"I run the place, Soobin. It'd be a bit of a problem if I just took off." You smile at his flustered sigh and move past him to shelf a book you'd taken out to review earlier. "Anyway, we're closing soon. You buying anything today or…?" 
Soobin looks at the thick book in his hands and you recognize it as a new arrival but then he flips it around, a little unsure. "Umm, I'm not– this seems cool but also scary so probably not?"
"I'll take it off your hands then?" you offer with an understanding shrug. But he shakes his head eagerly, "No, no, don't worry. I remember where I took this from. I don't want to get in your way."
"...All right," you reply after a pause. Then, brushing your hands against your pants, "Let me know if you need help, anyway." 
But Soobin's far from one to bother you as he leaves wordleslly, not without assisting you relocate some heavy boxes to the store before you lock up for the day. You're calling out goodbye after him as he takes off into the night when you hear soft barks closing in on you, 
For a beat, you freeze because the sound is excruciatingly nostalgic and you genuinely think you must've time travelled when you turn around to see Seungcheol running toward you with a very excited Kkuma leading the way. You're already dropping to a squat when the dog scurries to your feet, licking at your ankle before you get your hands on her.
You let out an undignified coo at the white ball of fur, "Kkuma, my baby. Aww, baby, you're so sweet. Look at you!" You go on for a little bit, fussing over her as she rolls over for some belly rubs before you come to and become aware of the way Seungcheol stands by, patiently watching. 
You slowly rise to your feet with an awkward smile. 
"I'm convinced she still loves you more than me," the man starts with a pout, "And it's still so unfair. Kkuma, I'm your dad. I pay for your meals and grooming, you know?"
You laugh at the way he scolds his dog in a small voice as you retort, "Maybe she's in her rebellious years. Let her be."
Seungcheol's soft gaze lands on you with a huffed chuckle. And then he looks at something behind you. "Who was that, by the way? New conquest?"
You throw your hands up in the air. "Come on, man. You can't keep doing this!"
"Doing what?"
"Snooping around in my business! And also making me sound like some kind of a player." 
Seungcheol looks down like he's reflecting. Kkuma paws at his leg with a whine and you look between them before letting out a cough.
"That was Soobin. If you must know." You look away as you say this, like it was no big deal, reporting on your customers to your ex-boyfriend because he still got all whiny when he saw you with another man. Neither of you is ready to address the meaning of your actions toward each other quite yet. So you both pretend it's normal when Seungcheol lights up a little when you speak up. 
"Soobin…? Haven't hear that name before."
"Yeah, he moved in a few weeks ago. Shy guy but very smart," you say, "And I think he wants to work part-time at the bookstore." 
"Woah," Seungcheol's ears perk up, "That's great, Y/N! You could totally use the help."
You turn to face him, arms crossed yet again, with a suspecting look on your face. "Hmm, I guess you could say that. I haven't popped the question yet though so don't go around spreading rumors." 
"Aww, you know I would never snitch on you like that! Unless he makes a move on you, of course, because that would be a very different story–"
"Seungcheol." 
Nice. That would be three points to Seungcheol if he was keeping count of how many times you'd said in his name in that grave voice of yours, indicating that you were mad but also couldn't cover up the laughter that bled into your tone anyway. And he was. 
– 
"What about you? You were gone a while."
Seungcheol counts his blessings every minute you spend with him, even if a lot of it was you pushing him away. But you couldn't stay consistent with your cold demeanour for much longer, not with him making sure he ran into you just as you closed your store. With Kkuma scurrying for love and his innocent blush whenever you greeted him, it wasn't long before you were letting your walls down. 
So it's no surprise that you find yourself curious of what he'd been upto in the month-long visit he'd paid to his best friend. 
Initially, Seungcheol's giddy ove your question, like you were on a first date all over again and not just walking along the dim grass fields like you so often did. "You know how it is with Jeonghannie. I meant to be there for a week but… one thing led to another and I was there for a while."
You fall silent, trying to imagine what it must've been like for him. "He still lives near that college, doesn't he?"
"Yeah. He's a strange fellow."
"Not that strange. College towns are like cities," you chuckle, "but with less crime and cranky people."
"I don't know, college students are pretty cranky too. Maybe even worse than the average city person." You raise a brow at Seungcheol's grimace.
"What, did Jeonghan force you to fraternize with college kids or what?"
Okay, now Seungcheol's getting a little worried when he realizes where this is going. And even though everything's in the past for him, he can't help but hesitate to tell you what exactly he'd been up to.
"...Yeah, I mean, most of his friends are college seniors. He knows them from his time there so it's pretty chill."
A few more questions from you have Seungcheol pulling out his phone to supply you with some visuals for some of the events he's mentioning and the way you softly laugh into his shoulder at the sight of the chaotic night parties has him getting a little careless. 
"Wait, wait, who was that?" you stop Seungcheol's now excited swiping with a cold hand to his forearm. He freezes, more because he realizes what you're trying to see than the temperature of your body against his. 
"Um, oh–" he watches dumbly as you go back a few photos to a selfie of him and a girl. They're grinning in the photo, teeth on display and cheeks clearly red from intoxication. 
"Ohh, is she one of his college friends? She's cute–" You interrupt your own musings over the stranger when you go back another photo in his gallery. This time it's a photo of the girl kissing Seungcheol on the cheek, his eyes closed with a shy smile. 
"That's–" Seungcheol barely opens his mouth to explain but trails off when you abruptly pull away from him. "She's– A friend… Um, goes to college in the place and she's–" He stops talking with a groan because great, all his stuttering has you side-eyeing him, no doubt recognizing the guilt swimming in his eyes.
Your voice is so small when you finally speak up, pace increasing. "That's cute," is all you say.
"Wait, Y/N, you don't understand. I know what I sound like but–"
"Just to be clear," you stop your brisk walking to hold up a hand in between you and him as if to symbolize the space there. "You don't have to explain anything to me. It's all cool, Seungcheol." 
And the way you murmur his name transports him back a couple months, a similar breezy night. One where you'd pulled him away from a group dinner with your friends and looked down at your feet the whole time but your words had pierced right through his heart anyway. Even back then, you said his name softly, without any malice, but even that might've been merciful. Because what's worse is the way you uttered his name like goodbye, sincere enough to bring tears to his eyes, even now, as he watches your forlorn back disappear into the night. 
Zero points to Seungcheol. 
– 
"Y/N, you in there?"
It takes a good minute of Nayeon repeating her questioning in increasing volume for you to finally hear her knocks over the sound of the music playing through your headphones. You frown as you uncover one ear and call out, "Nayeon? What happened?" The door to your room slowly creaks up, revealing your roommate standing there with her hands occupied, each holding up a bottle of soju invitingly.
"Wanna talk about it?" 
You're already tearing up when she asks you that and by the time you've both drunk your way through the bottles, your eyes feel numb. You interrupt your own worrying over how swollen they were bound to be tomorrow when you point a finger at Nayeon and question, "I really needed this today. How'd you know?"
She smiles, "Of course I did. You ignored my text about eating at Mingyu's Kitchen and my offer to pay. Plus, you didn't do the thing you usually do where you come in and complain about your ex."
You pout, "I'm sorry. I must be so annoying."
"You are," Nayeon shrugs, "And I like it. But you know what I would like more? If you would just make up with him already."
"No."
"Is this about that one photo of some girl kissing him on the cheek? You know how petty it is to get jealous over something like that?"
"She was seriously pretty, Nayeon!" you defend yourself, "And I'm not jealous, just– just upset because he didn't tell me earlier. I feel so stupid."
"I'm sorry, babe," she mutters, rubbing your back, "He's an idiot for not just coming clean."
"I know! Even after he went sticking his nose in my business and who I slept with while he was gone!"
You sniffle, "Maybe I should just call him and tell him to never ever talk to me again. And that he's a jerk. And that I still love him."
"Wait a second," Nayeon pulls you back onto your butt on the floor, "Maybe, let's reconsider that last part?"
You're clearly more drunk than you let on because you look genuinely confused by her interjection. "What? About me hating him?"
– 
When you drag yourself into work on Monday, you expect a lot of things. You see the headache coming, from last night's drinking and this morning's lack of hot water. You also know it's going to rain the whole day so it's only harder to put one foot after another to move. And where you also expect to pestered by a man: the desperate pleas don't come from Seungcheol like you'd secretly hoped.
"Soonyoung?"
The man, who'd been impatiently pacing by the entrance to your store, stops at the sound of your voice and spins around, nearly slipping over thanks to the wet ground. He throws the daunting hood covering his eyes with a bright smile as you run over and hastily unlock the store.
"Why're you out here in the rain?" 
Soonyoung sighs in relief once he's inside brushing his damp pants off with a quick hand. Then, he looks up with a shy expression, "Well, I… need to ask you something."
And given his past mooning over you, when he says that with a nervous laugh, you're stiffening up because you think you know where this is going. But then, Soonyoung defies your expectations for the second time yet again. 
Because where you'd expected to have to turn him down with an incompetent attempt at kindness, the next hour finds you grappling with all the information he's throwing at you.
For starters, he does ask you out. But– "It's fake. Dont worry, I'm not actually into you like that," he quickly adds with a dry laugh. 
As it turns out, he's asking you to help him make a move on a girl he only recently realized he liked. Her name's Chaewon and the only thing you know about her is that she owns a strawberry farm and can sing on ocassion. So you're easily worried by this proposition, "Soonyoung, why would you pretend to be with someone else? Shouldn't you be asking her out?" 
The boy heaves a sigh, "Y/N, I hate it to break it to you but nobody does that anymore. Keep up with the times, won't you? Jealousy is the new I like you."
"I'm pretty sure that's not true," you scoff out, refusing to let Soonyoung peg you as old-fashioned. Your stomach swims at his words anyway, ming wandering to your own… jealousy issues with a certain someone.
"Anyway, there's an open observatory night or something at her farm tonight with complementary dinner after. And I need you to come with me and make her jealous." 
"I don't like how serious you are about this," you complain, "And I don't think I want to be a part of this evil scheme."
"Please, Y/N, you're the only one I can rely on! And you're basically a celebrity around here, when it comes to dating."
You frown, finally looking away from the shelf you'd been re-ogranizing, "What do you mean?"
Soonyoung bites his lip, clearly having said something he shouldn't have. You poke at his arm urgently with a glare. He groans, giving in, "Well, it's just… your break-up with Seungcheol was the only thing anyone could talk about last month! And then the gossip only resurfaced when he came back to town."
"What kind of gossip?" you press with narrow eyes. 
"I– can't say."
"Soonyoung," you warn him, "Tell me. Or I won't pretend to be your girlfriend."
"Oh, come on! This is blackmail!"
"I thought you really wanted to be with Chaewon, no?" you question with inordinate amounts of innonence in your smile, "Makes you want to paint flowers onto the sky for her, doesn't she?"
"Fine, I'll tell you but only because this side of you is scary," the boy sighs out, "People think the reason you broke up with him was because he cheated on you. And now he's back in town so he can apologize and make up with you… or whatever." 
"That's ridiculous!" you cough out, "Who's been spewing this nonsense? I'm gonna have to–"
He holds your arm in an attempt to ground you, "Nobody really thinks it's true though! And remember how you promised to not tell a soul about a word I told you today?"
"I don't because I never said that–!"
"Seungcheol's gonna be there tonight, too, if that helps?"
Soonyoung's clearly much more devious than you last remember him being but when he explains that this could be a win-win situation for both of you– where he makes Chaewon realize her feelings for him, you also make Seungcheol jealous with your little act. 
And while you're sure to curse the him out for his assumption that you would want to get back with Seungcheol at all to begin with, the idea does leave an impression on you. Your mind's gears are working really hard, not just because you're trying to figure out a new spread for the monthly display at the front of your bookstore, but also because you keep finding loopholes in Soonyoung's grand plan.
"But is pretending to be together for one dinner really going to convince anyone? I mean, no offense, but nobody I know will believe that."
Soonyoung shrugs, "It's not just for one night. We're obviously going to do other stuff." You scrunch your nose up in disgust. "But think of tonight as the opening night. What we do tonight determines how the rest of our lives will pan out. We could end up lonely and dreadful if one of us messes up."
– 
For all of your criticism of Soonyoung's hyperbolic description of a dubious scheme, that evening finds you making double-takes in the front camera of your phone every other minute. Yep, turns out your nose was still on your face.
"Y/N, you look great," Soonyoung calls out finally, having watched you the whole ride to the venue. It was part of his plan, of course, to make things seem more official in his words. "So can you stop?"
"Are you sure you don't like me?"
As it often happens, your own question catches you more off-guard than it does Soonyoung. Your nerves have succesfully taken over your bodily functions. 
"I don't, Y/N," he responds with an easy smile, "I don't know why you keep asking me that. Do you like me or something?"
You sigh. "Sorry. It just seemed like that for a while. But I'm glad you don't, it makes things a lot easier."
"Good," he hums and then, after a beat passes, "By the way, when all of this over and both of us are hopefully happily in love with our respective partners–"
"I'm not in love with Seung–"
"And after you're done denying your feelings– Maybe we can be friends?"
You nod with a thoughtful hum, "Sure. That sounds fine. Except I thought we were already friends?"
Conversation with Soonyoung becomes a lot less tiresome when you've both established the purely platonic basis of your relationship. Which is ironic because fifteen minutes later, he's whispering in your ear to smile as he reaches for your hand. But his presence is still comforting and you find yourself wondering why you hadn't always found it this easy to be friends with him. The thought keeps you distracted momentarily and then, you lock eyes with Seungcheol. 
You were standing next to Soonyoung when it happened, hand in his as he caught up with friends and purposefully showed off his new relationship. The news was as unexpected to them as it was to you this morning and keeps conversation busy enough to allow you to be completely zoned out. And then you spot Seungcheol across the room, his eyes fixed on you in the distance and his mouth set in an intimidating line.
You look away with a cough, feeling your neck grow warmer. Soonyoung senses the change in your mood and when he asks if you're okay, you lean into his ear and complain, "Fuck, I just made eye-contact with him." 
He breaks into a grin at your indirect admission to still liking your ex. If Seungcheol knew the context to your arrangement with Soonyoung, he would find this entire exchange heart-warming, losing it over how shy you've gotten. But he doesn't know.
So in his eyes, it just looks like you've just whispered an inside joke into another man's ear and his chuckles are out of fondness. And that's why attributes your shy flush to Soonyoung's response to you, and not the eye-contact you'd made with him seconds ago.  
Seungcheol spends the rest of the night lurking. He skirts your surroundings, his eyes in disbelief every time you don't pull away from Soonyoung's hand on you. He's confused and jealous. The combination has him malfunctioning in a corner when he spots you breaking away from Soonyoung's side for the first time that evening. 
He doesn't even spare a thought to his actions when he springs forth, trailing you to the refreshments. You're trying to refill your lemonade even though you don't really have the desire to drink it anymore, mainly because Soonyoung had approached Chaewon and it seemed like his plan was working because you'd never felt so invisible in a conversation before. 
You can feel the act tiring you out though because you don't notice it when Seungcheol sneaks up to your side, breathing down your neck and staring seriously even when you spin around and almost spill your drink all over yourself in surprise. 
"S-Seungcheol!" you groan out, flustered but relieved your dress didn't have to suffer the consequences of your weakness around him. But your heart certainly did, especially when the man stepped closer, voice few octaves lower than usual.
"What are you doing with him?"
You go silent, knowing that you should feel unsettled by the absence of friendliness in his tone but only feel yourself enjoy the way he's so obvious about his jealousy. You look back at him, trying to seem innocent but immediately hate the way his eyes have reddened. "I'm… helping Soonyoung out."
Seungcheol's expression is a big question mark at that. A big angry question mark followed by an exclamation point, if you will. "...by following him around on his arm all night?" 
"Um… yeah," you look over his shoulder to make sure Soonyoung's still occupied by Chaewon and the momentary lack of attention is already pissing your ex-boyfriend even more. You hate lying but you convince yourself that right now, you're simply witholding information from someone. 
"I don't get it, Y/N," he says, "Did I lose my chance with you?"
The question catches you completely off-guard, leaving you gaping at Seungcheol. You were used to his short-temper and his incessant questions but this was new: the solemn setting of his lips and his downcast eyes as he asked you if he still stood a chance with you. He was being vulnerable, you realized, in a way that he never was during your relationship. The change is dizzying, it really is, and you can only think of all the other ways Seungcheol's been changed since he returned.
And all the ways he's stayed the same.
You swallow against the lump in your throat, "Come with me." 
You lead him to a slightly more secluded part of the observatory, a dimly lit corner that's orchestrated by more crickets and the lack of chatter is a welcome relief to your already crowded senses. "I'm not actually with Soonyoung," you breathe out, the truth weighing heavily on your tongue even though you'd only pretended for the one night, "I'm pretending to, because he asked me to." 
Seungcheol's eyes widen, "What? You're fake-dating that guy? Why?"
"He likes Chaewon," you point them out for him over his shoulder but Seungcheol only stares at your face with a serious expression. You retract your pointer with a flushed face, "And they were apparently getting nowhere, despite both liking each other. So he figured he needed some intervention."
You point to yourself this time with a half-smile and then remember the unimpressed look on Seungcheol's face. You watch his face carefully but he remains still for over a minute. 
"Well, I'm only telling you because you asked so nicely," you clear your throat, feeling a little stupid now that he's gone mute, "Do with that what you will. I'm gonna go back…"
You pat your dress down and exhale heavily, trying to steel yourself against both the disappointment and the cold night-air. You've already rejoined the noisy crowd, only a few steps away when you pick up on Seungcheol's voice. 
"--meant nothing…" is all you can pick up so you turn around to find him at an arm's length, muttering something, too low for it to be audible. You say, "What did you say?"
"I said that the photo you saw that day meant nothing. She's Jeonghan's girlfriend and I slept with her once. I also pretended to be into her but only so I could forget about you."
More than anything, you're shocked by the way he emphasizes you, the word coming out stronger than the rest of his explanation, one that does more to soothe your nerves than you realize. But you also don't know what to with this new information, because your brain can't keep up with how much more context there might be to it– Why did he sleep with her if she's with Jeonghan? And why did he look so happy in the photo if it meant nothing?
But tonight isn't about you, it's about Soonyoung and you've made a promise to him. So you tell Seungcheol, "I've gotta get back, Cheol–" the nickname slips out before you've censored yourself. Your face burns but you turn away quickly. "I- See you later."
The crowd is so close to you, just another step or two and you could be lost in the sea of half-familiar faces and probably get caught up in catching up with someone or the other. But if the crowd is close, then Seungcheol is closer to you. 
His hands are on your shoulders, warm heat invading your exposed arms pleasantly when he holds you back with that pained look of his. At this point, you're only partly grounded in your body, floating around when you hear Seungcheol's words to you. "I'm still in love with you, Y/N. Never stopped loving you, to be honest." 
That brings you back to earth with a jerk and you blink at him slowly. "I–" you start and then trail off. Then you start again, now that reality's starting to set again. "I feel the same. Obviously. I tried to move on but– ugh, I still love you." You feel Seungcheol's arm slide down to your elbows and then to find your hands, intertwining your fingers with his like he'd imagined doing ever since he got back to town.
"So we're good?" Seungcheol asks you, licking his lips with a small smile.
"Um, well, what do you mean by that because if– I mean, if we're friends–" You're trying to think of a way to state your thoughts in a self-respectful way when he leans in, lips brushing against your with a soft sigh. Your own breath hitches, especially when Seungcheol's hands come up to cup your face with a gentleness you forgot he could muster. He kisses you, sweet and soft, and when you pull away it's with a stupid grin.
He matches your grin, "Does that make things clear? We're not friends. I want to kiss your face and it would be great if you stopped pretending to date other men–"
The mention of fake-dating has you gasping loudly as you push Seungcheol away hastily, "Fuck, I'm supposed to be with–" You turn around and no doubt, everyone rushes to look away but you know the damage has been done when you hear scattered applause and whistles. The sight is heart-warming to you in a universe where you haven't just fucked up a plan. 
"I messed up big-time," you tell Seungcheol with an exasperated groan. 
The man regards you with thinly-concealed glee, "We kiss and make up but you're complaining because…?"
"Soonyoung! I was supposed to–"
Seungcheol doesn't do anything to help when he leans in to peck your lips again. You scowl at him, "What was that for?"
"Sorry, I just forgot what I was to you for a moment there, what with you going on about another man–"
"Cheol, I just confessed my love to you," you scold him but your ears turn pink, "And you're my boyfriend. So don't forget that. But right now, I need to go find my fake-boyfriend or I'll have blood on my hands–"
You're rushing to spot Soonyoung's head in the crowd when he suddenly appears, much closer than you'd anticipated, probably because he's heading right at you. You start to feel the guilt build up in your throat but then you see the grin he's sporting and the way he's skipping toward you. 
"Soonyoung," you call out, "I'm sorry–" you gesture toward Seungcheol vaguely, "I got a little caught up."
"Ahh, don't worry about it!" the boy chuckles lightly and then crosses his arms like he does when he has something to tell you, "I'm– The plan worked!"
"What?! It did? But I thought–?"
"Yeah, well, one part of the plan was to get you and Seungcheol together?" Soonyoung reminds you with a sly smile. You feel Seungcheol's arm around you as he pipes up, "It was???" You ignore how excited he sounds and narrow your eyes at Soonyoung, "Okay, but we clearly just ruined the whole act! What about–"
"Chaewon got jealous. And then when we spotted you and Seungcheol kissing, she was about to be really mad at you but I explained things to her… and then, she was mad at me but then… um, well, we, you know, kissed it out."
"Soonyoung!" you exclaim, clapping your hands together in relief, "That's great! We don't have to date anymore!" 
Soonyoung laughs at your phrasing but you're busy being wooed by the smitten smile on Seungcheol's face when squeezes your hand, muttering, "You all mine now?" 
– 
Cue star-gazing with Seungcheol. 
It was his idea, one he'd suggested out loud to you over the dinner that was also his idea, the candle between you flickering with your breathless agreement. You were in love with Seungcheol like you'd been for as long as you remember. The break-up, creeping up into your mind thanks to a combination of a lull in your relationship with him and doubts of whether there might be someone else for both of you, seemed like a faraway event already when you resumed your life with him.
"The stars are pretty, aren't they?"
You hum in agreement to Seungcheol, fiddling with his fingers. His laughter bleeds into your body, "You're not even looking up at the sky, baby."
You shift to lay down next to him. "I was!" you defend, "But then I got scared. The stars just make me feel so insignificant. And temporary." Your voice breaks a little, "I don't want temporary."
Seungcheol wraps around you, bringing your face up to his and watching you blink the tears out of yours. "Oh, doll, you're so precious," he huffs out, running a thumb under your eyes, "I love you. Fuck being temporary, okay? I'm going to be with you forever."
"You can't guarantee that though," you mumble out.
"I know I can't. Because I could die before you or like be abducted by the aliens when they inevitably come colonize us. We all know I'd be their first pick."
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Y/N, we're still together, even after we broke up," he kisses your cheek to emphasize your togetherness, "We're in love, despite it all. And that seems solid enough to me, you know? The scariest part of going into a relationship is the possibility of separating. But if we've done it before, how bad can it be?"
"What if we break up again?"
"Then we'll figure something out," Seungcheol says, "I know we will. It might not be the same as always but I promise I'll always be a part of your life for as long as I can." 
You sniffle into his shoulder, "I love you. Can you please beg the aliens to take me with you?" 
Seungcheol's laughter resounds through you yet again, a hand brushing your hair lovingly. You were finally wearing your hair down again, and it might've something to do with the way he would find a way to slip the hairtie out of its place. It sits around his wrist now, worn-out but incredibly dear to him. 
"Of course, love, anything for you." 
–  
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
the seungcheol brainrot never stops <3 i hope i've done this seungcheol justice, given what he went through in jeonghan's fic lol... anyway, i'm thinking of writing another part where jeongcheol catch up or something?? may be an interesting collision of worlds... we'll see.
815 notes · View notes
pathetichimbos · 11 months
Note
Hii! May I request Thomas Hewitt overhearing reader talk with her friends and saying that she came across this very cute guy whom she smiled at when they accidently made eye contact? (The guy is, of course, Tommy <3) And maybe Tommy spares her afterwards and decides to hide her away so that Hoyt doesn't order him to turn her into a human stew-
Thank you!
You're Mine
Includes: Thomas Hewitt / F!Reader
SFW
TW: Hoyt is a creep again / Very very slight Yandere!Thomas
...
Thank you for sending in this ask! Sorry for the long wait time and I hope you enjoy!
The cool wind rushed across your face, whipping around your body and sweeping through your hair as you leaned back on your own hands.
Your eyes stared up to the bright blue sky, a few tuffs of cloud floating idly through the giant blue mass as you sped down the highway, your best friend behind the wheel.
You were sat in the passenger seat, feet planted on the dashboard as the radio blasted loudly enough to try and rival the open hood of the convertible.
Carly was screaming along to the music, open beer in hand as she swung around her seat behind you, loud laughter repeatedly breaking up her own singing.
Brooke was singing as well, pausing often to puff on the cigarette stuck in her left hand, the smoke immediately obliterating in the harsh winds as soon as it left her lungs.
You three had been on the road for two and a half hours, not even making it a quarter a way through your trip. Time was dragging on as Brooke sped past the desolate Texas fields, pushing well past the speed limits.
Carly's laughing suddenly dies down as she leaned past the front seat, turning the radio down to match her new tone.
“Hey, look! There's a gas station up ahead!” She pointed at the large red sign standing prominently on the side of the road, the faded red and white paint being about the only thing you can register about it as you quickly pass it.
“Oh, perfect, we're almost out.” Brooke sighed, flicking her cigarette butt to the road.
“I told you to fill up before we left!” You furrowed your brows as you looked your friend up and down, “We sat at that first place for twenty minutes, what gives?”
“Not the cute cashier, that's for sure.” Carly giggled as she wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned her chin on the seat, “You know how our Brooke is, always the romantic.”
You rolled your eyes and playfully nudged her, “Oh, like you're one to talk. Didn't you tell Freddy and Taylor you'd go out with them next week?”
“But I've got taste,” She insisted, “My men have to have culture. I don't just go for the first cute gas station clerk that comes my way.”
“Oh, get real, Carls,” Brooke scoffed, “The only 'culture' Taylor has is whatever's growing on his dick after sleeping his way through the entire town.”
Their smiles were wide as they continued to poke playful fun at each other, filling the few minutes it took to find the gas station with conversation and laughter.
The station wasn't anything fancy, no one in sight as the three of you parked next to one of the only two gas pumps out front.
The building was old and small, the white paint faded and chipping off the sides from the apparent decades it spent under the relentless Texas sun.
The glass door was smudged and unclean, the pumps rusted and stained, and the air was filled with the red dust Brooke's car had stirred up from driving through the dirt that laid out in front of it.
You couldn't help but think of how perfect this scene would be in a horror movie.
“Here.” Brooke dug a ten out of her small pink purse, shoving it your way.
“Why do I gotta go into the creepy old gas station?” You frowned, still taking the bill.
“Because I'm pumping the gas and Carly's already drank so much she's about to piss herself.”
You turned back to see Carly had already evacuated the back seat, hurrying off to look for the bathrooms.
You sighed and gave in, stepping out of the car and taking the opportunity to stretch as you made the short walk to the front door.
The metal was hot as you swung the door open, the creaky hinges screaming out as the heavy, rancid smell of old meat swept through your nose.
You couldn't help but cringe a little, nose scrunching and feet faltering at the old pig set inside the glass counter of the small deli to your left.
You brushed it off and stepped up to the counter to your right, greeting the older woman with a smile as she puffed on her cigarette.
She looked you up and down, a slight scowl on her face as she nodded at you.
“I need ten on, uh...” You glanced back through the door, “...The pump that's closest to the door.”
“Ain't got no gas.” She deadpanned, leaning on the counter with one hand as she looked down to the ten you had sent on the counter.
Your heart dropped and you sighed, crumbling the bill in your hand, “Is there another gas station around here?”
“Not for another fifty miles.”
“I don't know if we can make it that far. Do you know when you might get some more gas?”
“'Fraid those pumps haven't worked for the better part of five years.”
You let out a huff and chewed your bottom lip, “I- I don't, uh... I don't suppose you have any idea of what we could do?”
She let out a long sigh through her nose and rubbed the butt of her cigarette into the ash tray, “I can call the sheriff. I'm sure he won't mind taking you to the nearest station.” She punctuated her sentence by looking you up and down once again.
That implication made you more than a little uncomfortable, but knowing Carly and Brooke were with you was enough of a comfort let her call the man.
The lady turned to the phone behind her, spinning the dial as you tapped your foot impatiently.
You were looking around the station, taking in the old, dusty atmosphere as you waited for the sheriff to pick up on his end.
Flies buzzed, darting around the room as the dull lights flickered in the empty display fridge across the store, a couple of old wooden tables and matching chairs filling the space between it and the shelves.
A small radio sat stiff and silent on the table behind the counter, right beside the phone the lady was speaking into.
“Sure you ain't. And I don't know, only one of 'em came in.”
You balanced on the balls of your feet for a moment, letting out a short sigh as you finally tuned into the one side of the conversation you could hear.
“Watch your tone, boy.” Her voice was threatening as she pulled the phone away from her ear, “How many of y'all are there?”
Your brows furrowed as you stopped for a moment.
It was a bit of a strange question, but you supposed that he would need to know how many people he'd be driving, so you brushed it off and gave her an answer.
“Three, including me.”
“There's three of 'em.” She didn't acknowledge your answer as she continued speaking on the phone.
You pursed your lips as the faint sound of a loud man drifted from the phone, but you had no idea what the hell he could be saying.
“If you say so. I'll see you in a bit.” She finally responded before hanging up the phone and turning to you, “He says it'll be about five minutes.”
Hope blossomed in your chest as you thanked her profusely, “I'll go tell my friends.”
She didn't say anything as you hurried out the door, meeting Brooke and Carly at the car.
“The pump ain't workin', Y/N. What gives?” Brooke was repeatedly pulling the trigger as the pump sat in her gas tank.
“She said they don't have no gas, and the next station ain't for another fifty miles.”
“Oh, what the hell...” Carly groaned from the backseat where she had been laying out, sunglasses protecting her eyes from the harsh light.
“Don't worry, she called the sheriff and he's gonna come give us a ride!” You explained, climbing back into the passenger seat, “She said it'll only be five minutes.”
Brooke huffed as she put the pump back in place before climbing into the drivers seat, “Just our luck, eh?”
Carly shot up, beaming, “It could be! I bet the sheriff is an absolute hottie.”
You snickered, “In a place like this? He's probably a hundred years old!”
“Hey, Carly likes the gray foxes.” Brooke smirked, leaning back on her seat to face the two of you.
“Oh, sick.” She made a gagging face and grabbed her throat, “You are a freak, Brooke!”
“There's nothing wrong with an older guy!” You defended the idea, “They're more mature.”
“Oh, so you're the freak.” Brooke laughed, “It would be you, you've always been a weirdo.”
“True! Remember when we went to that haunted trail a few years ago and she hooked up with one of the zombies!?” Carly pointed out, making you groan.
“Don't remind me. He was such a clinger, I practically had to fake my own death to get him off my leg.”
The conversation continued flowing easily, as it always did between you three.
Before you knew it, the loud slamming of a car door caught your attention and halted your conversation as the three of you looked ahead to the sheriff's car parked some feet ahead of your car.
And older man began walking from the driver side, graying and white hair, a matching, thin, goatee stained by the dip he haphazardly spit to the ground.
“Oh, nasty.” Carly whispered, pulling a face, “He really is old.”
“Don't say that!” Brooke nudged her with her elbow before gesturing to you, “You'll give the old home's heartbreaker here a boner.”
You gently slapped her shoulder, “Shut it, he's coming this way.”
“Who's that in the passenger seat?” Carly asked no one in particular, sitting up further to get a closer look.
“Well, howdy there, ladies. What brings you to this little slice of paradise?” The sheriff drawled, a creepy smirk on his face as he finished crossing the path to Brooke's door, leaning a little too close for comfort.
“Just passing through, sir.” Brooke gave a tight smile, leaning back a little, “Ending up running out of gas.”\
He tsk'd a little, shaking his head, “Well, that just won't do, will it?”
You tried your best not to pull a face as your attention turned back to the sheriff's car, hearing the passenger door finally open and close.
Out stepped a man, much much different from the first person to emerge.
He was tall, towering over the car as he shuffled in place, head hanging low as his eyes stayed trained on the sheriff.
His long, black curls brushed against his shoulders, and seemed to be held down by the homemade mask covering his face, though you couldn't see any finer details from here.
He wore an old, dirty dress shirt, and black slacks to match, almost as if he were in his Sunday best, despite the stains and wrinkles adorning his clothes.
As you stared he seemed to notice, eyes darting to focus on you.
A deep heat flooded your cheeks as you flashed an awkward smile before shrinking into your seat, and mostly out of his line of sight. Staying up just enough to peek back out at him often.
“Oh, don't worry about it.” You tuned back into the sheriff, flashing his stained teeth as he finally stood straight again, “I'll just go in there and tell Mama to keep an eye on your stuff and then I'll take care of y'all.”
You could practically feel Carly shuddering as he stalked off towards the gas station directly across from your car.
“Thomas!” The man yelled as he reached the doorway, and you watched as he motioned the second man over before whispering something to him none of you could hear.
Assuming he was going back into the gas station, you turned back to your friends, who seemed to be avoiding looking at the gas station all together, thanks to the creepy sheriff.
“What a fuckin' sicko!” Brooke shuddered, “I don't want to go anywhere with him!”
Carly nodded, making a sick face, “Did you see the way he kept staring at our boobs? I don't trust him!”
“Who gives a shit what you guys are talking about.” You loudly interrupted their quiet complaints, “Did you see that second guy!?”
They both shook their heads, having been too focused on the creepy advances of the sheriff.
“Oh my god.” You groaned, running your hands down your face, “He was so fucking cute. I'm talking tall, dark, brooding, absolutely huge build. Guy looked like he lifts in his sleep.”
“Uh, you mean that guy, right there by the door, who can absolutely hear your bat shit talk?” Carly pointed to the man, who was standing a few feet away, completely avoiding looking at the car now.
You face dropped and you slunk into the seat, practically screaming, “NO, oh my god he must think I'm such a freak.”
“Um, you kind of are.” Brooke leaned down and whispered, “He's not that cute.”
“You are so stupid.” You let out a sigh, “That man looks like what every man wants to be.”
“Well, maybe he didn't hear you.” Carly offered a small smile, “Even though he definitely did.”
“Fuck.”
“Go talk to him.” Brooke nudged you.
“No way! I'm not looking to embarrass myself even more!”
“It's too late anyways.” Carly reluctantly gestured to the sheriff who was now returning.
Brooke rolled her eyes as she turned to climb out of the car, “Come on, girls.”
You sighed as you followed suit, Carly not far behind.
Brooke was the first to make her way to the sheriff's car, opting for the backseat, much to your and Carly's dismay.
Not even giving you a chance, Carly darted ahead, loudly announcing, “I'll sit with you, Brooke!”
You groaned, knowing it would be rude to try and insist to sit in the back as well.
You glanced back to the station door, noticing Thomas was coming over too. You sighed this time, hoping that he'd take the front seat, as he seemed to know the sheriff better.
But before that even became an option, you heard the loud protest of Brooke and Carly as they pulled faces at the open back door.
“There's stuff all over the backseat! We can't even fit.” Carly pointed out.
“Oh, yea.” The sheriff mused, “Well, c'mon then. Start grabbing stuff, we'll throw it in the trunk.”
He opened the trunk and your friends gave you looks as they started grabbing armfuls of various things crowding the backseat.
You finished walking to the car, planning on helping but walking slow so there hopefully wouldn't be anything left for you to grab.
Thomas was only a few steps behind you, watching as you stood beside the open back door, waiting on your friends.
His hands twitched, and his mind was torn.
His entire life he was ridiculed and bullied.
If not for his deformities and looks, than for his lack of education and inability to fully understand and control his emotions.
When people looked at him, they saw a monster. A freak.
But... You didn't.
You, a complete stranger, if even just for a minute, thought he was cute.
Cute enough to tell your friends and feel embarrassed by his opinion.
You treated him like a normal person, for a brief moment.
And he was hooked.
He craved more, more of that feeling. To have someone look at him like he was normal, like he was more than just a deformed monster hiding behind a mask.
He wanted to get your attention again, to selfishly hear your sweet voice say more kind things, things that no one had ever said before.
He stared holes into the back of your head, trying to will you to give him just a little more of your attention.
He thought you were beautiful too, and he wondered if you knew.
Could you tell, with the way he stared every chance he got?
God, he didn't even now your name, but he needed to. He would do anything to learn more about you, to keep you close and safe.
He was so lost in his own thoughts and emotions he didn't even notice how severe the situation had gotten between the sheriff and your friends until you darted forward.
Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. His mind screamed, his hand shooting out to stop you.
The skin of your wrist was so soft compared to his calloused hands, he never wanted to let go.
He wondered if the rest of you was just as soft.
Your confused eyes flickered back to his own, questioning him without any words being spoken.
He shook his head, tightening his grip just enough to get his message across without hurting you.
You were his now. And he would give his life to protect you.
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eldritch-spouse · 3 months
Note
I love the idea of Zizz becoming obsessed with a lucid dreamer.
She talks to him about things she's too afraid to talk to other people about, rants about how tiresome her work is, and doing stupid shit while they wander a dreamscape she makes. Sometimes she fucks him if he doesn't take on a human appearance (realizing she's a monsterfucker). She thinks he is nothing more than a random figment formed from their dreams, enjoying these moments that will be gone by the morning.
Zizz keeps getting drawn to her, the more time he spends, the harder he falls for her.
[Aaah, this is a cute idea. Reader is ambiguous.]
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The first night, you didn't know what was happening.
There was a presence in your dream, you felt it as soon as it invaded the sanctity of your slumber. A thick shadow lurking in the halls of the manor you spent so long visualizing during waking hours just so you could bring it into your dreams.
Curiosity led you to follow that strange pull. You didn't consciously manifest anything or anyone yet, so what could it be that your brain cooked up on its own?
It seemed to be wandering, and the closer you got to it, the louder these slow thumps could be heard, footsteps making aged wooden floorboards creak in protest. The parts of your dream where this thing dwelled seemed to become somehow more vivid than the ones you created, as if it were breathing life into them. Your curious search becomes a frantic chase when you catch the outline of something massive turning the corner.
Was the manor this complex? Were there these many halls?
No, you remember it being smaller. Is it... Changing its location? Changing your dream? This has to be the product of your sudden distraction. Yes, that's it.
You remember the way you stopped breathing when you opened a door, only to see him pass by.
What you can only describe as a giant demonic entity, with pallid, ash-like skin and a great veil over its horned face. A thin tail that ended in a crescent shape swaying lazily behind a masculine inhuman figure.
Between the shock and fear, you could only watch it trudge to another division, uncaring of your presence.
Your lungs start working again, on the first desperate gasp-
You wake up.
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The second time, he laughed.
Some time had passed.
You never truly felt all that comfortable in your own dreamscapes after that odd encounter and, strangely, even if you remembered the sight of that demonoid so clearly, manifesting him was proving itself to be harder than expected.
You felt like you needed to bring him back, if only because his appearance left more questions than answers, and that encounter begged some clarifications.
The versions you did manage to create always seemed oddly deformed, as if you were a novice at this.
Tonight, you were dedicating your time to making him reappear, which led you to a mostly white space devoid of features beyond a floor, and the several copies of the entity you are failing to put together.
Some are discolored. Others have too many horns, the one in the corner is... Melting? The latest keeps disappearing and popping up in random spots. None of them are behaving at all, just standing there like mockeries of statues.
They feel so fake, so paper-like, cheap imitations of something that felt so powerful and perfect! Like there really was another person in your dream...
You're getting frustrated.
It's a pointless effort born out of a spook.
After what feels like an eternity of populating an endless landscape with grotesque reflections, you simply sit down and watch them fail miserably at existing.
Except... A new one emerges from the back of a swaying, greenish copy.
It looks around, tensing, as if perturbed by something, then casts its gaze to the clones surrounding it.
You didn't make that one. Not willingly. It's... It's too perfect, he looks exactly like the demon you saw, down to a T! Even the little glowing blob on his head, that's him! That's... Him. The real one. Oh fuck.
Horrified yet oddly gleeful, you simply stay very still and watch everything unfold.
The giant demon begins exploring once more, touching the flawed versions of himself he comes across. The ones that seem to particularly disturb him are waved at, and with the simple gesture, disappear entirely. Although you cannot see his face, his tail swats quickly behind the monster's body, it's clear he's at least amused by what he's seeing.
One second he's moving to the nearest malformed abomination, the next you blink and he's standing still, fixed on you. There's no doubt he's spotted you sitting cross-legged like an idiot, you bet you stick out like a sore thumb.
It felt like hours passed in that silent locking of stares. This time, you remember to breathe. But your mouth certainly won't open. And he doesn't utter a word either, resuming his perusing.
Finally, he spots the one whose clothes keep flickering in and out of place. You don't know why it's like that, and it embarrasses you. Your brain can guess the general body type and coloration of the demon given he doesn't cover all that much, but it has no way of knowing what his genitals look like, so your mind is visibly cycling through possibilities.
Seeing himself naked, with a variety of ridiculous genital equipment, the entity invading your dream starts to shake slightly.
You fear you might have greatly offended him without meaning to, but then, this sound starts bouncing off non-existent walls until it reaches you.
A melodic sort of chuckling that fills you with some unknown lulling tingle, rising into amused, helpless belly laughter, cackling. His head throws back and his shoulders quake. It's the only thing you can focus on, a voice so clear and so distinct, something you've never heard before. How incredible.
Well... At least he finds it funny? Good, that's. Good. You guess.
When the noise dies down, you find him looking at you again.
The flustered tightening of your belly is probably what woke you up.
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The third time, he spoke to you.
It must not have been more than a week.
You think he's lurking around more often, because you're starting to pick up on the way his presence alters the spaces around him, makes them feel all the more immersive.
This time, you were creating a garden, picking the flowers you'll put in a variety of plots.
When you head to the little gazebo in the center, you find that not only has it increased twofold in size, he is sitting at the table you placed there.
The demon seems calm, legs spread, one hand resting on the table, the other holding his covered head as he watches you freeze.
Your first instinct is to turn back and pretend he's not there, to walk away, maybe try shoving him out of the dreamscape. But do you really want to?
" Stay. " He beckons, the moment you take a step back.
" Who are you? " Is instantly shot back.
The monster leans back on his seat, the clawed hand previously resting rises, and with a snap, day turns into night, a brilliant sky with millions of stars and swirling cool hues.
It's nothing short of gorgeous.
At this point, you think he has more control of your dream than you.
As if to prove that, the chair opposing him slides back, and he tips his head towards it, waving.
" I like your dreams. " The demon starts. " You're interesting. "
" ... Thank you? " Because what else are you supposed to say.
" Sit. " He beckons again. " Talk to me tonight. "
You didn't believe it.
Didn't believe who he said he was.
How he managed to enter your dreams.
Didn't believe that someone like him could ever find you worth any time.
You chalked it up to total madness, and took the entire conversation as a humorous game, laughing when it seemed as if he was getting almost enamored with you.
After an admittedly delightful night sharing drinks he had conjured for the two of you, Zizz sighs and tells you that it's time for you to wake up.
You're about to ask how he would know such when he leans forward to gently tip the glass up to your lips, and the richness of your favorite drink is the last thing you feel before it all fades away.
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Tonight, he offered to take you into one of his dreamscapes.
A smile in his words and a shine to the soft paw he extended your way convinced you to accept the offer.
Maybe the way he purred and whispered your name like a prayer should have been warning enough that you were playing a dangerous game.
It's been hours. A day? Too long. Longer than you've ever been dreaming for. Tracking time is harder in a location you have no control over.
This is a very beautiful royal mansion, and you've been having lots of fun spending time with Zizz in it and all...
But you'd like to wake up.
It's not happening. You can't bring yourself out of the lucid dream. You... You're stuck.
When a quiet moment falls between the two of you, a small hand taps the supposed demonlord's arm.
" Zizz? "
" Mmm? "
There's a gulp. " ... I need to wake up. "
Seconds bleed into what must have been a minute of complete silence.
Until his palm lands on your head and he affectionately combs over your hair, leading you forward beside him as you're about to enter his dreamscape's bedroom.
Claws tighten on the skin of your scalp.
" Don't be silly. "
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dixons-sunshine · 12 days
Note
Hey!! I really REALLY love your girl dad Daryl series and I thought maybe I could request something :) Imagine Daryl building a doll house or something (maybe a cute little mini motorcycle) for his daughter I can totally see him doing something like that it’s all I can think about when I see this picture. He would totally get the materials from one of his supply runs because I headcanon that everytime he brings something for his daughter (like a doll or something)
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His Motorcycle Princess | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: When his daughter was born, Daryl swore to himself that he'd do everything in his power to ensure that she remained happy at all costs. So when she asked for her very own motorcycle, who was he to deny her that?
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc (the bridge exploding doesn't happen, so Daryl never goes looking for Rick and he's happily living in Alexandria).
Warnings: Swearing, slight suggestive talk.
Word count: 1.3k.
A/n: Okay but why can't Daryl be the father of my future kids? He'd be the best dad ever. All jokes aside, I hope you like this!
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Daryl, may I ask what the fuck that is?” you asked in surprise at at the sight before you, folding your arms over your chest.
Daryl looked up from his workbench, his ocean coloured eyes meeting your eyes before glancing back down at the big pink object in front of him. “S'a toy bike,” he stated plainly, patting the toy for added effect.
“Okay,” you drawled, nodding your head slowly. “But... Why?”
“S'fer Hazel,” he explained, picking up a screwdriver and resuming his task of assembling the toy motorcycle. “She asked fer a bike like mine, but obviously I ain't 'bout to assemble a real one fer a five year old, so I got this instead.”
You walked down the steps into the garage and walked over to your husband, standing slightly behind him as you watched him tighten the screws of the toy. “Where'd you even get this?”
“I was lucky 'nough to find a toy store tha' was left relatively untouched. Found this hidin' behind one of the shelves,” he explained, glancing over to you and nervously gulping at the close proximity. It amazed him that even after so many years together, you still managed to make butterflies erupt in his stomach.
“Aah, okay,” you nodded, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hazel is gonna freak out over this. This is gonna be her new favourite thing in the world.”
“Ya really think so?” Daryl asked, looking at you hopefully.
You smiled softly at him. There was lot of things people could say about the archer. People who didn't know him personally would call him rude, obnoxious and cold. Those who knew better would call him loyal, determined and caring. When it came to you, there was a lot you could say about your beautiful husband. He was kind, caring, loving, considerate, observant, and so much more. And you could also proudly say that Daryl was an amazing dad. Nobody was perfect and the archer had his moments that he wasn't proud of, but all in all, there was no denying that Daryl would do anything for your daughter.
“I know she'll love it,” you reassured him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You could bring her a painted rock and she'd love it. As long as it's from you, she doesn't care.”
“Nah, she hated tha' bunny I brought back fer her,” he replied, closing his eyes at the warm, soft feeling of you pressed against his back.
“It's only because it was covered in walker blood,” you explained. “After I washed it, she wouldn't let the thing go.”
Daryl couldn't deny that. The aforementioned toy had been a proud edition to Hazel's stuffed animal collection for two years at that point. She loved that bunny more than anything, favouring it to join her when she played tea parties with you and Daryl. It made the archer's heart swell with love, just knowing that his daughter appreciated what he did for her made everything worth it. All the battles he fought, all the blood that was shed, it was all worth it in the end. His wife and his daughter were safe, and he'd never been happier in his life than he was in those moments in the small home you shared in Alexandria.
With you still firmly pressed against his back, he got back to work. The toy was almost done; he only had a few finishing touches he had to do. Admittedly, it was a little harder to do so with you pressed against him from behind, but he refused to ask you to move. He'd much rather work on the toy for a few extra minutes than lose the comfort your mere touch brought him.
You watched his hands intently, your mind unwillingly wandering to a place that wasn't needed at that moment. However, you couldn't help it, the knowledge of what those hardworking hands could do in other activities taking over your senses.
“You know, this gives me deja vu,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Yeah? How so?” Daryl asked, tightening the last screw into the toy.
“Remember back when you were building your own bike five years ago?” you asked, continuing when he nodded. “Seeing you hard at work, doing something you were skilled at really did something to me. It was because you were building your bike that we even have a kid at all now. And now you're building a motorcycle for our kid.”
Daryl chuckled at the memory. “Never knew grease could turn ya on like tha' until then.”
“When it's on my handsome husband's hands? You best believe it does.”
Daryl turned around and wrapped his arms around you, staring down at you lovingly. “And now we have our own kid.”
“Our own little family,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “I love you, Dar.”
“Love ya too, peach.”
“Mama! Daddy!”
Before Daryl could lean down and capture your lips in his for a kiss, your daughter bounded down the steps. The two of you sent each other an amused look, reluctantly pulling apart. Hazel came over to Daryl and held her hands up in a silent plea to be picked up, and the archer complied.
“Hey there, Hazelnut,” Daryl greeted her with a fond smile, placing a light kiss to the top of her head.
“Hi, Daddy,” she giggled, sending a wave at you. “Hi, Mama!”
“Hi, Baby,” you chuckled, walking over to rub her hair affectionately. “Did you have a good nap?”
“Yeah! I'm ready to play now!” she exclaimed happily, a toothy smile on display.
“Well, how 'bout ya and I race our bikes?” Daryl questioned, capturing Hazel's attention.
“But Daddy, only you have a bike.”
“Not anymore,” you said in a playful tone, sharing an excited glance with the archer. “Daddy got you something.”
Daryl turned around with her in his arms and showed her the bright pink toy motorcycle. Hazel let out a surprised gasp before laughing in excitement, throwing her arms around Daryl's neck and hugging him as tightly as she could.
“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed in excitement.
Daryl chuckled fondly and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Yer welcome, Hazelnut.”
“Now I can be like you!” she giggled, wiggling slightly to be put down. When she was, she ran over to the workbench and stared in awe at the toy.
“Yeah,” you agreed, walking over to her to ensure she didn't accidentally hurt herself with the tools that were still on the workbench. “You just need your own crossbow now.”
Hazel gasped in delight and turned to Daryl. “Daddy, can I get a crossbow?”
“'Course ya can. How else would ya help me on my hunts?”
“Yay!” Hazel happily clapped her hands. “Mama, I'm getting a crossbow!”
Daryl smiled and walked over to the two of you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and playfully ruffling Hazel's hair. He chuckled at the giggle she let out, feeling content and comfortable as he listened to Hazel's babbling as she regarded over all the places she would go with her very own motorcycle, even to the moon. There was nothing better in his life than moments like these. This was what he fought for. And he would do it all over again if it meant keeping the two most important people in his life safe.
Because without you, his beautiful wife, and Hazel, your perfect daughter, his life would never be the same.
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galedekarios · 5 months
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more gale & tara epilogue stuff
tara's epilogue conversation is so extremely devastating if gale sacrificed himself. since i can't bring myself to play it, i thought i'd look at it in the files and share what i find here.
tara can be found at camp and this is how the conversation with the player begins:
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Tara the Tressym: Oh, hello, darling. I was hoping to see you. Withers informed me about this little get-together and I thought I'd show my whiskers.devnote Tara the Tressym: I can almost feel Gale here. Among his friends - in you. Some part of him remains, doesn't it? devnote: Gale has died so she's very sad and nostalgic.
this devnote is repeated for almost every line for tara in this convo.
from here, the player has various options to reply. i'll be going through them in order.
the first is one where the player points out the magically conjured image of himself that gale left behind in case of his permanent death:
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Player: Well, his magical ghost is still here, if that's what you mean. Tara the Tressym: That thing's no more than a shadow of the real man. A nonsense. Though it captures some of his more insufferable qualities...
the second option is the player saying that they are feeling something similar, a presence that reminds them of gale:
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Player: It does, Tara. I can feel his presence too. Tara the Tressym: A crackling in the air, isn't it? That flair of magic and mischief.
despite the tragedy of it all, i do love tara describing gale's presence as 'that flair of magic and mischief'. it's so very sweet and sad, especially remembering just long she's known him.
perhaps here she remembers the boy who accidentally set the rose bush on fire and cried, just as elminster does. or perhaps the boy who summoned a magma mephit, causing chaos, but also making a lifelong friend.
the third option is to tell tara that you miss gale, too, and this honestly made me tear up:
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Player: I miss him too, Tara. Tara the Tressym: That's good. We should miss him. He was such a lovely fellow. Proud as a peacock, but... my little love. Tara the Tressym: Oh, what I wouldn't give to snuggle up on his lap one more time. Just once would do. Player: Would a fuss from me make you feel better?
"He was such a lovely fellow. Proud as a peacock, but... my little love."
PROUD AS A PEACOCK BUT... MY LITTLE LOVE
M Y L I T T L E L O V E
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this is obviously completely fine so i'll continue with the fourth option:
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Player: You can snuggle up in my lap later, if you like. Tara the Tressym: Oh, I couldn't possibly... unless... well, perhaps it's not a terrible idea. Gale would be quite pleased to know we've made friends, wouldn't he?
it's clear that tara needs some comfort. despite her stiff upper lip approach to most news devastating to her and the thin veneer of control she puts on here.
the fifth option is expressing that you know how she feels:
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Player: I know how you feel. Tara the Tressym: Ah, to lose the one you love the most. What a terrible thing.
the sixth option is rather callous and tara's response to it once again heartbreaking:
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Player: Alas, you can't. Tara the Tressym: No. Not in this life, at least.
the last option again shows tara's true grief at what happened:
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Player: He's gone. We have to accept that. Tara the Tressym: I suppose we do. But I certainly wish we didn't.
most of these different options lead to the end of the conversation with tara, where she invites the player to visit her and morena in waterdeep:
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Tara the Tressym: Perhaps you'd be willing to come meet Gale's mother, some time? She misses him so - and I know it would do her heart a world of good to discuss her son with someone who knew him as he was.
again, the player has various choices to either accept or refuse her invitation. i won't go through them all and you can read for yourself in the screenshot i provided. but i do want to look at these two options here:
Tara the Tressym: Perhaps you'd be willing to come meet Gale's mother, some time? She misses him so - and I know it would do her heart a world of good to discuss her son with someone who knew him as he was. Player: I'd love to, but I'm leaving Faerûn after tonight. Tara the Tressym: Well if you ever come back do look us up in Waterdeep. Surname 'Dekarios'. I'd enjoy the chance to reminisce about the good man we knew.
i'm once more reminded of that one line in elminster's letter and i feel so sad for morena:
Does he live within his mother’s ageing heart, weeping for those roses? 
2.
Player: I'll consider it. Tara the Tressym: See that you do. We'd love to have you. Things have been rather quiet without himself cluttering up the place.
which made me think about gale's line that his tower has never been so free of clutter ever since he had to deal with his condition.
anyhow, i hope this was interesting to some of you!
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