#so it’ll take like 2/3 of a year to get through this

[theonewiththefanfics]

Homecoming (one-shot)

Synopsys: When Y/N goes missing during a simple supply run, she comes back with world-shattering news for Astarion. News he never thought to hear, and now he has a decision to make, one that will shift his life on its axis once more.

Set after the main events of BG3

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, a bit of SMUT, but nothing explicit

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit, kidnapping

Word count: 8397

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Part 2(ish) - Love Conquers All (one-shot)

A home was not something to ever be taken for granted, that much they had learned during their adventures.

A home was a fire slowly crackling in the hearth, warmth expanding through the living room. A home was Astarion sitting on a loveseat, a book in his hands while he waited for his love to finish puttering around in the kitchen. A home was drying tea leaves and making preserves for the coming winter as she shooed him out, saying that his fussing would only hinder her process.

He’d huffed, puffed and whined, trying to make Y/N pull away from her plans just so they could curl up and read together, but she was adamant.

“I’ve already started.” She dropped an orange peel and pressed some lemon juice into the steaming pot. “It’ll be wasted produce if I just leave it now.”

“But it will take you hours!” Astarion whined like a child and even stomped his foot, making her snort.

“And it will take me twice as long if you don’t stop annoying me.” Y/N threw him a saccharine smile over her shoulder, batting her lashes at the pouting vampire. “Now, be a good boy, and quit pestering me. We’ll have all the time in the world, once I’m done.”

Astarion just groaned, going up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, the incisors he usually sank into her neck now nipping at her lobe. “I can be a very good boy if you only let me prove it.”

“My love, you will be getting absolutely no sex from me, if you don’t let me at least finish this batch.” A shiver rushed down her spine as he licked at her neck, so close to that sweet spot he always used as a place to bite and drink from. But she had to be strong. The jams wouldn’t make themselves. “Every additional minute you keep me from this will be an additional day of your dry spell.”

The vampire spawn jumped back from her as if he’d been scalded, scarlet eyes narrowing in on her. “You wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t last an hour!”

Y/N turned around, crossing her arms as a devious smile bloomed on her lips, a brow raised in challenge. “Would you like to test those waters?”

Astarion stood, staring her down. His crimson gaze was blazing from underneath his lashes, but she didn’t budge. They’d played this game for close to three years as a couple now, and she’d learned very quickly – Astarion was very much so a cat. But especially – he was a cat that liked to knock things over while keeping direct eye contact with you, though the second you placed a palm underneath whatever it was he wanted for to fall, all his need for chaos disappeared. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

For twenty long seconds, Y/N and her pale elven lover didn’t break, hoping the other would crumble and be announced as the loser, but part of what he loved about her, was her stubbornness. It was because of that part of her personality, she’d stuck by him when his doubts had crept in, when his own mind called him worthless and not good enough for her, almost as if to spite those vicious words in his mind. She didn’t give up on the people she loved, and as luck would have it, Astarion owned her heart.

But Y/N also knew how to handle a cat like him, so just after a few more tense moments, his eye twitched, and he huffed in defeat.

“Fine,” he scoffed. “But if you are not done by sundown, I shall have no other option but to drag you away from the stove. Kicking and screaming preferred.”

Y/N simply shook her head, and went to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling the man into a deep, breathless kiss, but not before nipping at his bottom lip, dragging the piece of flesh between her teeth and making him let out a desperate moan. “I’ll even let you tie me up if you wish to do so.”

Astarion’s pupils almost swallowed the red irises in a matter of seconds, as he threw his head back in a groan. “My love, you’re absolutely killing me here.”

“Then I hope whatever punishment you deem fit for me, will be just oh, so sweet.” Y/N stepped back, untangling herself from him, but the mischievousness in her eyes didn’t lessen.

She could see how the words tortured him, how it took every single last piece of his fraying self-control, to not rip off her apron and the clothes underneath and just lay her down on the kitchen table, legs spread with his mouth licking into her until she orgasmed.

With eyes holding nothing but pure lust and hands clenching and unclenching, Astarion retreated. Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t hot and bothered and absolutely dripping between her thighs, and the thought of finishing those jams was the last thing on her mind, but she did have to do it. If only to keep him waiting longer, knowing whatever his beautiful brain was cooking up would leave her screaming and shaking for hours.

They’d been growing their own vegetables and fruits, Y/N tending to them during the nights to spend more time with Astarion as he fussed over his flower gardens, so it would simply be wasteful to leave their berries to rot. The year had been very generous and offered a variety of things to gather, so a while back, she’d decided to pickle some of the tomatoes and cucumbers, turn another batch of peppers and tomatillos into sauces while the sweeter things would be turned into syrups and jams.

Y/N shook her head, trying to clear it from the haze of lust, as the aroma of lemons and cranberries, raspberries and oranges wafted all around, encasing her in the scent. She was just about to add the sugar when the tin rattled with the sound of the last grains left.

Her brow furrowed as she opened the lid and looked inside. Sure, enough it was empty.

The woman huffed. She was absolutely positive she’d gotten the right amount during the last trip, but somewhere along the way it seemed a miscalculation had happened, and now she had to get more. Y/N would have asked Astarion, and had the sun dipped below the horizon, he would have jumped at the request, but alas his little vampiric predicament forbade him from walking during the day, the sun still high in the sky from what she could see through a tiny slit in the shutters.

Quickly, Y/N snuffed out the flame below the pot, untied her dirtied apron and grabbed a basket from the pantry, tying a pouch of coins to her side. She only needed sugar, but maybe she would grab some other necessities as well. They were low on Astarion’s favourite wine, one he claimed didn’t taste like vinegar at least.

“I’m off to the market really quick,” Y/N announced as she peeked into the living room, taking in Astarion as he flipped a page in a book. “Do you want anything?”

“No, my love.” He looked at her like a love-sick puppy. “Just your darling self back as quick as you can. I have picked up some… inspiration for your punishment if you will. Just as you suggested, of course.” He closed the book, showing the cover to her.

Heat crawled all over her body as she read the title, one of her smuttier romances she had started to read, and when she could do nothing but gulp and nod, his smile turned from a sweet one into a wicked-fanged thing. It was all she needed to know whatever awaited her once she was done would leave her unable to walk. Gods, she needed to finish this whole thing up as quickly as she could.

Y/N was out the doors like the wind, the usual stroll to the market cut from half an hour into a brisk fifteen-minute jog, the thoughts of the man waiting back home for her at the forefront of her mind.

The needed sugar, some coffee beans, a loaf of fresh bread, Astarion’s wine and some sour cream were all bought in quick succession, Y/N didn’t even try to haggle. Her eyes drifted across various stalls and merchants and she almost deemed it done when her gaze caught onto a rose seedling. It was a beautiful bloom with blood-red petals that whitened at the very tips. She smiled and went to buy it. Astarion would love the symbolism even if a bit too on the nose.

Once satisfied with everything, Y/N marched across the market and was back on the road to home. It was a humble little house they’d purchased with whatever had been left in their pockets after all was said and done with the tadpoles, but Astarion had bigger plans. This was only a temporary situation.

“I want a whole room full of books. Nothing but books from one end to the other and then some,” he’d confided in Y/N one night after both were panting and spent from multiple rounds of bringing the other to ecstasy.

“And a large ballroom,” he continued, and Y/N couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped her.

“A ballroom? And what will we do with that?”

“Why, have grand balls, of course!” He threw his hands up in the air as if her question was preposterous.

“Star…” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him from where she was lying on his naked chest. “You hate people. A ballroom full of them – it would be your literal nightmare.”

“I don’t hate people.”

“I don’t count.”

“Alright,” he conceded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Y/N placed her palm atop where his heart was and rested her chin on it, looking deep into his eyes. “I hate most people, simply dislike them, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a get-together, from time to time. Maybe… maybe see our friends. Catch up on how they’re doing. I absolutely despise to admit this and will say you are lying if you ever mention it to anyone, but I – I miss them… even Gale…”

A gentle smile lifted her lips as she brushed a wild curl out of his face and tucked it behind his pointy ear. “I think I’d really like that too.”

His eyes were so soft and full of love, that Y/N swore she could feel his heart beating once more in his chest, thudding against her palm in a confession of adoration.

She was almost out of the city by that point, already on the small, secluded road leading to their house which lay on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate right by the edges of the woods, so Astarion had easier access to game in between feeding on her when her attention was drawn back by someone calling out.

“Miss!” the voice, male she made out, yelled after her. “Miss, please wait!”

Instantly, her guard was up, but when a breathless man, looking to be in his late sixties appeared from behind a copse of trees, she somewhat relaxed. Y/N was still cautious, but if anything, she had a dagger holstered against her thigh. She was always prepared.

“Miss,” he gasped out, leaning his hands against his knees to catch his breath. “Miss, you are a quick one. I’ve been calling for you since by the rose stalls."

“Oh, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you!” Y/N said but didn’t move forward. “How can I help?”

He huffed, as if regaining her breath, before fishing out a piece of fabric from his pocket, and extending it towards her. “You dropped this by the flowers.”

When she took a closer look at what he was holding, it seemed to be some sort of a silk scarf. She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t own silk scarves and definitely hadn’t worn one on such a warm day. “You must have mixed me up with someone, as it’s not mine. Sorry, for you to have troubled yourself like this.”

“No.” The man furrowed his brow, taking a step closer. “I am fairly certain I saw you drop it. Such a fine piece… didn’t want you to lose it.”

Y/N took a step back, angling herself in a defensive position with the basket in front of her. She didn’t like the tone he was speaking in, nor the way his eyes seemed to be appraising her. “No,” she asserted. “It’s not mine.”

His back stiffened, eyes growing cold, the grip on the scarf tightening as he hummed. “Well… a pity then.”        

She took another step back, but he was already lunging at her.

Dropping the basket to the ground, she reached for the knife strapped at her thigh, but he was quick as a viper as she hadn’t even noticed when a rope appeared in his hands, lashing it at her. Years of having fought had kept her agile and aware, but years of domestic bliss with Astarion had dulled her senses a bit.

The rope caught and wrapped around her ankle, knocking her to the ground. Y/N’s teeth clattered and snapped, her tongue almost in between them, but as he rushed to pin her down, she twisted her leg around the rope and pulled, making the man lose his balance and stumble.

It was enough for her to swipe her leg underneath his, and send him sprawling. It was enough for her to untangle her legs and roll away as he snapped it at her head. Her clothes were dirty as was her face, but it didn’t matter. She’d cover herself in blood if needed.

It was almost animalistic how she pounced – teeth bared, a snarl ripping from her throat and hands forming claws as if she would gouge at his face with just his nails, but as her palm brushed her thigh, unclipping the holster for her dagger, Y/N didn’t see the man had crouched on his knee and swung the cord.

It knocked the air out of her, as it wrapped around her chest, and he pulled her down, hard. Her ribs were screaming as the tether tightened and tightened with every pull, but as she thought this would be it, something strange happened – instead of offering her the killing blow, he opened a palm, now covered in a leather glove, and blew the contents of it onto her face.

Y/N coughed and sputtered, but whatever it was, was fast-acting and her lungs, still incapable of proper breathing due to the rope couldn’t expel it. In just a few seconds, the bright day around her turned into darkness.

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious for, but enough time had passed to dry out her throat. Or was that a side effect of whatever was blown into her face? In any case, as she slowly came to, Y/N noted there was a soft mattress under her body, which was an oddity for someone kidnapped. She could even tell the dagger was still by her thigh, the comforting weight of the blade pressed under her. Even weirder, if you asked her, to not disarm your victims.

Darkness still encompassed her, but the soft cloth against her cheeks told her she hadn’t permanently lost her vision, but with her sight obscured, she had to rely on her ears. That’s when voices invaded her senses.

There were three people somewhere further away, most likely in a different room if taken by how muffled the words were. She focused harder on what they were saying.

Two men and a female, Y/N differentiated, when the woman spoke.

“This is not what we agreed upon!” she hissed, and a grumbly-sounding man scoffed.

“You said to get her to you. I did. You never specified how.” It was the same man who’d knocked her out.

“We want her to help us!” A different male voice, this one softer, even kinder, rebutted. “I highly doubt kidnapping is a good incentive for that!”

“Look,” her assailant said. “I fulfilled my end of the deal. She is unhurt, maybe she'll sport a couple of bruises and a headache, but that is her own fault. She could have come willingly but didn’t. Other than that, though – she is completely fine. Now you do your part!”

As the trio argued between themselves, more angry whispers than shouting, Y/N started to shimmy her hands which had been bound, out of the restraints. She had a good inclination they needed her alive but had no want of staying as a prisoner.

Though her fighting skills seemed to have mellowed, which she was not happy about, even a couple of years without mortally dangerous adventures, hadn’t changed how quickly she could slip her wrists from their bindings.  Astarion might need to get more creative during their debauchery.

Y/N froze the second she heard a door open and shut, two pairs of footsteps moving closer and closer to where she was. Her breathing was shallow and almost imperceptible, as she tried to make it look like she was still unconscious.

She could sense two bodies enter the room and one move to stand where she faced, the other going to her back.

Y/N tensed. In just a few moments, whoever was behind her, would notice her undone binds. But she’d be ready.

“Darling, please be careful,” the woman said, a tremble in her voice.

Good. Let them be scared.

“Don’t worry,” the man replied. “I’ll just make sure she’s – what in the -”

But Y/N was already up, the blindfold off and ready to pounce. This time, she’d have the upper hand.

For a second, the light in the room blinded her, but her sight refocused fast enough to take in her captors’ faces.

The woman was beautiful, with high rosy cheekbones, and jade green eyes so vivid they looked like actual gemstones. Her hair was long and dark, down to her waist while grey strands seemed to have invaded the brown tresses in some places, but she was still ethereally gorgeous, her pointy ears covered in piercings.

Y/N snapped out of the shock quicker and using this to her advantage, she was behind her in a matter of a blink, her dagger pressed tight against her throat.

A gasp entered her ears, but she just pressed the blade harder, making her whimper.

“Please!” the man made her look at him, but instead of bracing for an attack, he had his hands up in surrender. “Please don’t hurt her! We just want to talk.”

“Funny way of having a conversation you’ve got there.” Y/N tightened her grip on the knife, surveying the man. Again, those same pointed ears, but his eyes were the most brilliant blue she’d ever seen and his face was marred with more age lines than the woman’s, yet he still was as gorgeous as she. “Typically, only my enemies would knock me out and tie me up before spilling their grand plans. But I will be kind and give you a choice – what would you like to be – friends or foes?”

“Friends! Friends! Please! We – we’re looking for our son!” the elven man pleaded. “And we – we heard a rumour that you might know him. Have even seen him.”

Y/N narrowed her Y/E/C eyes, piercing his with her gaze. “I’ve known and seen a lot of people. Usually, others just ask me about them, they don’t have someone kidnap me.”

“And we’re sorry, we’re so very sorry, but we had to make sure you came. It went too far and we apologise, but please…” He took in a deep breath, worried eyes flipping between his partner and her. “Our son – his name is Astarion. Astarion Ancunin. Have you – do you know of him?”

Hearing his name, knocked the breath out of her as if they’d snapped a rope around her chest again, making her stumble back. Her grip on the woman released, and she used the moment to leap over to her partner, using the bed as a buffer. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her half behind his back, but not before checking if Y/N’s dagger had pierced the skin.

Tears brimmed in the eleven woman’s green eyes as she looked at her, not even caring that just a moment before she was so close to having her blood dripping on the floor. “Please,” she whispered. “I – I know we didn’t go about it the right way, but please… is it true he’s alive?”

"I,” Y/N stammered, her gaze snapping back and forth between the two.

Astarion.

They were Astarion’s parents.

Even after all this time, they were searching for their missing son.

Y/N should have noticed the details – how the woman had a small mole on her cheek right where Astarion did, how the shape of the man’s eyes was the exact same as his son’s. Astarion even had the same high cheekbones as his mother while his sharp jaw was that of his father.

What had his eyes been like before? Green like his mother’s or the sky blue of his father's? What had he been like as a child? No doubt as mischievous and scheme-prone as he was now, but who had he gotten it from? So many different questions rattled through Y/N’s brain as she kept glancing back and forth, before shaking her head and pulling her out of the shocked stupor.

“You – you’re Ancunins?” She had to ask. Had to make sure she hadn’t overheard them or maybe hallucinating because of the powder she’d inhaled.

“Yes.” The woman nodded, brushing tears from under her eyes. “Our son has been missing for more than two hundred years, and we almost lost hope until… until we heard about you and your company a few years back. How one of the party members resembled our little Star so much.”

They hadn’t been inconspicuous, though they had tried, so it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that tales of their adventures had gone far and wide, especially after saving Baldur’s Gate, killing Cazador and the absolute, and Gods know how many other evils along the way. But she never thought Astarion’s parents would have heard of it.

In fact, Astarion had barely even mentioned them over the years, and, for whatever reason, Y/N had concluded they must have passed, despite knowing elves lived extremely long lives. Had he maybe tried to find them on his own and couldn’t? Or had he forgotten about them?

Until Astarion and Y/N had become an official couple and she’d commissioned a portrait of him as a gift on an anniversary, he hadn’t even seen himself in two centuries. He’d forgotten what he looked like. It didn’t seem too crazy to assume, the memories of his parents’ names or their faces, might’ve slipped away as well, or even the love they had for him. Especially knowing how deeply Cazador had ruined that notion for him.

She needed to get home. She needed to see Astarion, and then she could figure out what to do.

“I need to go.” Y/N nodded to herself, muttering under her breath. “I need to think.”

“No, please!” the woman lunged, trying to grasp at her, but she had a knife pointed at her chest in an instant, making the elf shrivel back, but still, she pleaded. “Please help us. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate! If you can’t help, who will?”

“I promise I will do my best,” Y/N said. “But I need time… I – I need to figure all of this out.”

Her mind was swirling like a hurricane, but the man interrupted her breakdown as she realised how pretty much her in-laws, had kidnapped her. “At least tell us this – is – is it true he is alive? Or have we travelled across Faerun under the pretences of false hope?”

In truth, Y/N wanted to take them by the arms and drag them to her house, but whether Astarion wanted to reach out and reconnect, was up to him. That sort of a choice was not hers to make, but she could grant them this one request.

“He is.” Y/N nodded.

And then she left as quickly as she could because if she had to stand there and watch as the elves crumbled into one another, cries of relief and joy escaping into the slowly setting day, she would crumble too. Their faces were already permanently burned into her mind, and she needed a moment to process everything.

By a stroke of luck or fate, Y/N instantly recognised she was in the woods on the other side of Baldur’s Gate, so retracing her steps to the market was fairly easy even though the whole way back home, she was pretty much stumbling around in a daze, knocking into people and tripping over her own two legs.

Her discarded basket was right where she’d left it, gold coins scattered around it. The pouch must’ve broken during the struggle. Y/N made sure to pick every single piece up and was more than relieved to see, that the rose bloom was still intact.

By the time she arrived, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and as the last rays warmed her back, she extended her palm to open the door, though she didn’t even get to touch the handle as it was ripped open by a visibly distressed Astarion.

His eyes looked like he’d been crying, his hair as if he’d been relentlessly raking his fingers through the locks and his lower lip so bitten, there was a small hole where one of his incisors had gone through.

“Oh, thank the Gods!” Astairon instantly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in a bone-crushing hug, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “Thank the Gods!”

Y/N dropped the basket over the threshold and closed the door with her foot, her own arms weaving around his middle, a palm soothingly brushing along his side, as he soaked her in.

“I’m alright, Star,” she said, kissing his temple and didn’t even make a noise as he gripped her waist tighter, right where bruises were forming. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I’m alright.”

“What happened? You said you’d be quick, but you were gone for hours! And you know what the worst part was – I couldn’t even go out looking for you because of the damned fucking sun!” Astarion cupped her face, turning it this way and that way, trying to find any injuries, but the biggest one would be in her head as she tried to figure out how to explain to him what had happened. “Gods, I am never letting you out of my sight again!”

Y/N indulged the vampire in the hug he pulled her in, holding him against her chest, trying to comfort him, but she was way too consumed with her new findings. Too quickly, as evident by the frown on Astarion’s face, she untangled herself from the embrace, anxiety immediately flashing over his handsome features.

She slid her arms from around his waist to take his palms into hers. “I – I don’t even know how to say this… How do you say something like that?”

Worry instantly marred his brow, and Y/N pressed a practised thumb between them, trying to soothe them away.

“Shit…” he muttered. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No!” She cupped his cheeks. “Astarion you’ve done nothing!”

“Then – then what?” He was tentative, still, scared Y/N might be angry at him. Or worse – wanted to leave, but her next words erased all that doubt.

“I…” She took in a deep breath. “Astarion, I met your parents today.”

Whatever he had expected, clearly that hadn’t been it. Probably a confession she’d met a past love, that their feelings were reignited and she wanted to go with them. But definitely not that.

He blinked once, twice, trice, completely and utterly stupefied before a small whisper of “What?” passed his lips.

“It’s why I’m so late,” Y/N explained. “They’d heard a rumour, that I knew you and had travelled with you during our tadpole situation, and came to me. Astarion, your parents are looking for you…”

A million thoughts seemed to swirl in his head, but Y/N held onto his hand through all of them.

“What,” he cleared his throat, “what did you tell them?”

“That I’d find them once I figured out what to do?”

“Which means?”

“Which means I would come home, give you this information and let you figure out what you’d like to do…”

So many emotions flashed across his face, but Y/N no longer needed that mind flayer tadpole connection it created – Astarion was an open book for her to read.

Joy. Such indisputable joy shone in his scarlet eyes before being consumed by confusion. Then anger and disgust and love, but by the end of it all his heart settled on one feeling – fear.

It’s what it knew best, though Y/N had tried her hardest to reduce it to ashes, yet still it lingered. She understood it, despite not being happy he ever had to feel it.

He feared what to do, what would be the right choice to make, he feared their reactions and what they would say of his disappearance or of his newest… condition. Would they accept him? Or would they be repulsed by him?

“What – what would I even say to them?” Astarion searched her Y/E/C eyes as if they held an answer, but when one magically didn’t appear, he hung his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I can’t even remember what they looked like. Their names, the house we used to live in… it’s all a fog.”

Y/N tried to give him an encouraging smile. “Well, your mother – she has the most beautiful green eyes. Like that dress you made for me for Summer Solstice, that same shade. And – and she has a little beauty mark on her cheek.” With a gentle thumb, she brushed over the mole. “Right in that same spot.”

His brows furrowed in concentration; his lips pinched tightly. “I – I remember blue eyes. Not green.”

“That might be your father's. His are azure I’d say. Like the summer sky. Gods, Astarion,” Y/N breathed out. “You look so much like them, but… honestly, the only thing you need to know right now is that they looked relieved.” Her voice was soothing as he tried to find lies in her words, but there would be none. “I didn’t tell them anything apart from the fact that you’re alive, and all I saw was complete and utter relief.”

Y/N placed a strand of hair behind his ear as he pondered. His carmine eyes slid to hers. “Do they want to see me?”

“Yes. It was the whole reason they sought me out because I might have a single scrap of information on you.” She’d mention the kidnapping later. Or maybe never, depending on how everything went. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Is it,” he hesitated, as if ashamed to be asking such a question. “Is it alright if I think this over for a bit? I’m just – there’s so much going on in my head…”

“Of course, Star!” Y/N cupped his cheeks and placed a reassuring kiss on his forehead. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, his shoulders dropping, but she just shook her head.

“Nothing to thank me for. Not for this.”

And so, they continued on like that for a few days – Y/N didn’t bring the subject up, but she made sure Astarion knew, she’d be there whenever he needed to talk. Yet her mind couldn’t help but worry about the two elves in that little cottage on the other side of the town. How horrid it must be to wait for an answer that might never come, but her love was her first and only priority. When he decided it would be time, she’d support him no matter what.

It was a week after the revelation (and subsequent freakout on Astarion’s part when Y/N had removed her clothes before him, and he saw the raw skin and bruises on her ribs. She spent the whole night convincing him it was fine and talking him down from hunting the mercenary and bleeding him dry. She didn’t mention it had been his parents who’d hired him but rather said it had been an unfortunate coincidence), when Astarion awoke with a certain determination, shaking her awake.

She swatted at him like an insect buzzing by her ear. “Leave me be, you blood-sucking, elf!” Y/N grumbled, burying herself under the duvet. “It’s too early. And stop hogging the covers!”

She was just about to elbow him in the ribs if he didn’t let her sleep more, but what he said was like cold ice being poured over her, waking her up completely.

“I think I want to see my parents.”

Y/N was sat in a second. The sheet dropped down, exposing her naked chest, but she didn’t even feel the chilly air biting at her skin, even though Astarion’s gaze immediately dropped down to her breasts, eyes blazing with want.

Rolling her own eyes, she pulled the cover so that it obscured her indecency. Though it was his favourite outfit of hers, they needed to focus on the important things. “Are you sure? You can take all the time you need. There is no rush to this, and it’s a huge decision to make.”

“I’m sure,” Astarion sighed, running a hand through his moon-white locks and dropping back onto the pillows. “It’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about.”

Y/N worried her lip before sliding back down next to him, letting him wrap his arms around her body. She knew in moments like these, Astarion needed reassurance, and he craved being close to her. Holding her grounded him, and made his scattered thoughts into something solid.

She kissed right above where his heart lay. “If, you’re sure.”

“I am… I just… Will you be there?” Astarion looked down at her.

The woman gave him a smile. “Nowhere I’d rather be than by your side.”

Gently, he brushed a finger against her cheekbone and leaned to kiss her, thankful he’d found someone to walk the world with, especially during the moments he feared he might break.

The day before they’d decided on meeting, Y/N ventured out to the cabin to inform the elven couple of Astarion’s decision. Once they’d seen her walking up through the window, they were out before she even managed to get to the door, faces full of hope.

“Astarion, he wants to come and see you, but there are some… conditions…”

His mother’s brow furrowed, the grimace so familiar it sent a pang through Y/N’s heart, but she swallowed it. “Whatever he needs. Whatever you both need. Anything for our little Star.”

“So… please just don’t question this, but umm… physical contact – I know I can’t possibly understand how you feel, but let him come to you first. It might not make sense, but it’s important that he is the one to make that step.”

“Of course,” Astarion's father nodded, his mother eagerly agreeing.

“And umm… he’ll be different. He might not look like the elf you remember him being. The world wasn’t kind to him for a long time… Please don’t mention this.”

Pain flashed across their faces at her words. They must have assumed something horrible had happened to him, but to have it confirmed was a different kind of agony. But as Y/N had asked – they didn’t question, simply nodded, holding onto one another a bit tighter.

“Alright.” Her heart was somewhat settled. “Thank you. We – uh- we’ll see you later tonight then.”

And with that, she left only to find Astarion pacing the inside of their hallway upon her return.

“Is it sundown already?” He snapped his neck to her as she removed her cloak, visibly upset when Y/N shook her head.

“A couple more hours, I’m afraid,” she said, taking his hand and kissing his palm, placing it against her cheek. “Please stop worrying. It will all be alright.”          

“But what if I’m making a mistake?”

She raised her brow. “Do you think you’re making a mistake?”

“N-no?” Astarion huffed. “I don’t know. I know I want to see them at least once, but what if it’s best to leave the past in the past? Why torture myself and exhume it, so to speak?”

“You can leave it all behind if that’s what you wish. But, Star, you also have the rarest of opportunities people get – a second chance.” She stepped close to him, pulling his head down by the nape of his neck so they could rest their foreheads against one another. “But you can always leave. You can always say “no.” And if someone doesn’t get that, no matter who they might be, I will gut them navel to throat.”

Astarion chuckled, brushing his nose against hers. “My knight in bloody armour, always ready to ride into battle for me.”

Y/N pecked his lips in response. “As long as I get my kisses at the end of it – without a second to spare.”

They spent the couple of hours waiting until the sun went down cleaning up around the house and then it was time to go.

As Astarion took a deep breath before closing the door, Y/N squeezed his hand. “We can turn back whenever you want to.”

But he seemed determined, only giving her a reassuring smile and twining their fingers together, her hand in his solid hold.

They walked slowly, enjoying the warm night gracing Baldur’s Gate, and soon enough they were through the city and past the woods, a small log cabin coming into view.

He stopped them a few feet away, taking in a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions.

Y/N glanced at him encouragingly. “Are you ready, Star?”

Astarion took in a deep breath, held it in for a moment and then exhaled, nodding. With this confirmation, she released his hand and ventured to the door, gently rapping her knuckles against it, immediately returning to stand beside her lover.

Instantly his palm was back into hers, as if he needed her to ground him, reassure him everything would be alright as nervous energy coursed through his veins while they waited for the inhabitants to come and see them. And though it was probably no more than ten seconds since she’d knocked, it felt like time had stood still. Once the doors opened, even nature quieted down.

The breeze shushed the tweeting birds and seemingly even the worms digging underground stopped their burrowing as finally, after two hundred years, the lost Ancunin son returned.

They stood like that for what seemed like ages, just taking one another in, before a small sob of Astarion’s name from his mother’s lips broke the spellbound silence.

It’s when he rushed for her, the elf already on her feet, meeting him halfway. Her arms wrapped tight around his body, hands smoothing down the back of his head as all the while she kept whispering “My Star, my little Star, you’re home.”

Y/N was on standby, ready to rip her away if Astarion became overwhelmed. She’d asked them to allow him to be the one to make the first step, and they had, but with such all-encompassing feelings, she just wanted him to be safe.

Though all that anxiety dissipated like ice under the blazing hear of the sun when Astarion practically melted against his mother, his fingers digging into her shoulders and back as if he never wished to be let go, both of them crumbling to their knees, still in each other’s embrace.

Tears welled along Y/N’s bottom lashes and when his father joined them, wrapping his arms around his family, they fell like rain on an autumn evening. She had to press a hand against her mouth to not sob out loud, but it didn’t seem like anyone would care, as Y/N noted Astarion’s shoulders shaking while his mother and father were freely crying, all the while touching and caressing his face, trying to ingrain the memory of having their son back in their arms.

She couldn’t imagine that feeling, didn’t ever want to, of finally being reunited with a family which you were so brutally ripped away from. Y/N almost wanted to resurrect Cazador, just so she could drive a stake through his heart again, but that might’ve been a bit too morbid of a thought in such a tender moment.

“You’re home.” His mother pulled back, cupping Astarion’s cheeks and smiling from ear to ear. “Our little Star is back home.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he choked out, but his father shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s enough for us.”

Y/N watched as he took in the people who’d searched for him relentlessly. He never knew they’d never given up. She wondered if there would be a time, he’d believe he was worth all it. She certainly hoped so.

“Thank you,” the elf with eyes like jade said, snapping her eyes towards Y/N. “You have no idea what kind of a gift you’ve bestowed upon us. We will never be able to repay you.”

She could only wave them off, a knot in her throat. “You owe me nothing. Seeing this – this is enough for me. I’ll – uh – I’ll leave you to it then.”

Just as she was about to turn around, Astarion jumped to his feet, untangling himself from the limbs of his parents, eyes full of concern. “What? Why? What’s wrong?” He was by her side in an instant, pulling her hand to rest against his chest.

“Nothing!” Y/N shook her head. “I just – I just think maybe I should take my leave. I can be back in a few hours if you’d like, but this just all seems like – like a private family reunion.”

Astarion scoffed, his free arm weaving around her waist, completely offended. “And what exactly do you think you are to me if not family, my love? Arguably, you might be the most important part of it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that -,”

“Hush now!” he scolded her. “You promised to be by my side through everything. Are you breaking that promise?”

“No, I just,” she stammered. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you to it? This just feels awfully personal.”

“My love, you are the keeper of my heart. You are my true home.” Astarion cupped her cheek, resting his brow against hers, chest against chest, not caring who might see. “Without you, none of this would have happened. I could still be on that beach with a mind flayer tadpole wriggling behind my eye.” He took her hand, and kissed her knuckles, sighing as they brushed against his jaw. “I don’t want to do this without you. I want to relearn who my parents are, and I want them to get to know me, but a non-negotiable part of that is you. That is if it’s alright with you?”

A tear slipped down her cheek, as she looked deep into those ruby eyes that once held nothing but fear and pain, only to now show love and compassion and happiness. When she smiled, her grin could have rivalled the sun itself. “I’d be honoured.”

When they glanced at the two elves by the threshold of the house, they noted the horrified looks on their faces. Astarion’s guard was immediately up, but his mother beat him to it.

“My Star, I am so sorry!” She put a hand over her mouth. “We swear we didn’t know you two were lovers! We just...” She glanced at her husband in desperation, but it seemed the little scene they’d put on had rendered him speechless. “Had we known, we would have never…”

Astarion squinted at her, a dangerous note appearing in his voice. “Never would have what?”

“Oh Gods, we had your partner kidnapped,” his father finally got out, eyes only widening in more shock as it settled that Y/N wasn’t just a travelling companion or a friend, but just what she really meant to Astarion.

“You did what?!” His head snapped to Y/N who now retreated to stand between the two shocked elves, and her quite furious boyfriend.

“Astarion, it’s alright,” she tried to calm him down. “They didn’t know! Besides, I heard them arguing with that mercenary. They didn’t hurt me. In fact, I,” she let out a nervous chuckle, “I held a knife to your mother’s throat. So, call it even and let’s move past it?”

His gaze was hot like the flames, as it burned into her. “We will discuss this later.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her before taking a deep breath and exhaling. “This is absolutely not how I ever imagined a family reunion to go, let alone the introduction of my partner.”

Y/N’s shoulders dropped as he broke the settled tension, but something in his eyes told her she’d pay for her omissions. And oh, how delicious that punishment would be.

His mother still seemed to be all nerves as she invited them inside, spouting apologies in Y/N’s direction, but when she took the elf's hand in hers and gave a comforting embrace, she relaxed a little. “Let’s let the bygones be bygones.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled, and wrinkles of age and time appeared around her eyes.

It was awkward at first, two centuries of hurt laying between them, two centuries of torture on Astarion’s end, of lost love and people, but slowly they opened up. And when his mother mentioned how he always used to bury his nose into strawberry fields, because it reminded him of his mother’s hair care products, it was like a damn had been opened.

The memories were still there, buried under layers of pain and horrors, but there. Maybe a little jumbled up and out of sorts, but with every hour spent together, locks were being broken and a light long lost lit up again.

Astarion had changed, but so had his parents. He let them know of his adventures, how he met Y/N and how she had turned his world upside down but abstained from the more gruesome parts. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but if he so wished, she knew his parents would be there to listen and welcome his vulnerably with open arms.

An hour before the sun resumed its place in the sky, Y/N nudged Astarion, telling him it was time to leave. She had little doubt in her mind, his parents had caught onto what he was, even if they hadn’t mentioned Cazador. If not for the shape of his elongated canines, or the colour of his eyes, which Y/N had found out had been a beautiful shade of pale green, then because of the brutal scars on his neck. But they still pulled him into a hug with such vigour, it was like they feared they’d never see him again, which was probably a thought always haunting their minds.

“Would – would you like to come over to ours?” Astarion asked, still holding onto his mother’s hands. “It’s a bit of a mess, our place, but if you come after the sun’s down, I’m sure we can have it proper enough to take on guests.”

It was an odd request, but thankfully, neither his mother nor father said anything about the specific time request, simply hugged him once more and promised to be by their door the second the sun dipped, wine and lemon cakes in hand.

As they waved their goodbyes, Astarion slipped his palm into Y/N’s and made sure they walked all the way back like that. Once behind a closed door, he pulled her into his chest relishing in the way their bodies melded together – two puzzle pieces finally connecting and forming the most magnificent picture to exist.

“What is it like to be finally home?” Y/N asked as he swayed them to a tune only, he heard.

Astarion shook his head, pulling slightly back so he could cup her jaw. “My love, I have been home for a long time now. I’ve been safe and cared for, all thanks to you.” His eyes were so full of love and adoration, she almost choked on a breath. “Now… now it just feels complete. So thank you… thank you for being my home,” he muttered that little confession against her skin, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Always, my love.” Y/N didn’t hide the tears rolling down her face and he brushed them away with a soft thumb. “Always.”

When their gazes locked, all she could see was excitement for what the new day had to offer, and she knew whatever was in store, as long as they were by one another’s side, there was nothing they couldn’t overcome.

But for all that, there was an important thing she was unaware of.

As Y/N entered their living room, talking to herself and making a list of what they had to do before his parents arrived, Astarion stood and watched her, leaning against the doorframe, all the while his hands rested in his pocket, where in one of them, a beautiful ring was being twirled between his fingers.

Before they’d left, his mother had slyly pulled it off her own hand, pressing it into his palm, and whispering to him while hugging that she didn’t want to see Y/N without it the next time around.

Astarion had no intention of living his life without Y/N as his fiancé for a second longer.

When she turned around to find him on one knee, he didn’t even get to ask the question before she responded with a shout of “Yes!” and jumped on him, pulling him into a kiss he swore breathed life into his still chest.

He couldn’t wait to reintroduce Y/N to his parents as his intended.

Now all was as it should be. He was finally home. And somewhere in the garden, a rose bloomed in full.

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: This idea was inspired by that one post of a painting Astarion's parents probably had of him, but had put away somewhere just so they didn't have to look a the son they lost, so I rectified it (Link to the inspo pic :) :( Now they have a portrait of Astarion and his love right above their fire place :)

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don't plagiarise or repost on other platforms.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 astarion #astarion my beloved #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 fanart #astarion x reader fluff #astarion x y/n #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion angst #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #neil newbon #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3

[inf3ct3dd]

ellie headcanons pt.2! :))

warnings: mentions of weed/alc , injuries/blood, VERY mild sexual content (boobs and ass 😕)

content: loser!ellie x reader :3

authors note: im back w another BANGER🔥🔥🔥 since ppl loved the last one IM BACK W MORE 😈

pt. 1 ! taglist.! masterlist!!

- CANNOT handle spicy food. my porcelain princess has the spice tolerance of a victorian child she is coughing and crying at the slightest spice 😞😞

- speaking of food…my girl is a CHEF!!! she hates leaving the house and she’s too broke to buy food so she’s just in the kitchen whippin ts!!!! she even has a goofy chef hat that she wears when she cooks. (this is so ellie coded i dont know why)

- loves commentary youtubers . kurtis,danny,nickisnotgreen,jarvis, and chadchad 🔥🔥

- knows so much niche internet drama…she tries to talk abt it and ur like???? literally what are you talking about….which gives her the perfect opportunity to ramble

- so many random injuries CONSTANTLY. she’s constantly covered in cuts and bruises and has no idea where they come from (mostly her awful skateboarding)

- “this ones for you” before she devastatingly fails to do a trick on her skateboard and falls on her face, and her entire lower face is covered in nose-blood

- whenever she gets hurt, she always asks you to “kiss it better” 😞😞 so cute im dying!!!

- follows you around like a puppy all day. goes with you on all your errands, sits by you while you do work. she is ALWAYS THERE

- if u think shes bad when shes sober, she’s literally the clingiest drunk in the world!!!! she will literally be constantly attached to you. even when you go to the bathroom, she’ll literally hold ur hand through the door while u piss cuz u wouldn’t let her in 😞

- she’s even worse when she’s high, cuz shes so BOLD. will literally just randomly motorboat ur tits while ur talking with zero explanation.

- loves sitting on the floor???? literally will just be down there. sometimes when you’re on the couch she’ll sit by your feet and cling onto one of your legs

- NEEDY!!!! oh my godddd so needy. every time ur doing something not involving her she’s trying to get your attention. most of the time shes doing really stupid shit in front of you for no reason. “babe look” is her favorite thing to say

- literally had a huge bruise on her leg cuz she tried to do a cartwheel inside and banged her leg on the kitchen counter

- whenever you lay on your stomach, she loves laying her head on your ass

“it’s my favorite pillow!!”

- sometimes she just randomly squeezes ur boobs when she walks past you. always with some random sound affect too. she’ll just walk by you while you’re cooking and just honk ‘em 😕

- sleeps DIRECTLY ON TOP OF YOU. like literally lays on you like a starfish all night

-sleeptalker!!! its always the most non-coherent things ever, and it’ll last for like 30 minutes.

“no papa john i don’t wanna hit a nae nae 😞”

- cannot be trusted on the road. she is actually a hazard to public safety

- this is such an unpopular opinion but she is DEFINITELY a passenger princess. she likes staring at you too much she can’t drive she’ll crash!!!!

- does NOT exercise. but she’s like. randomly strong. she’ll carry all your groceries in one trip and push ALL your luggage when you go on vacation

- literally turns into a child when you take her to the beach. building sand castles, swimming in the water, and finding rocks and shells and bringing them to you like a dog

- definitely wears those stupid snorkel goggles when she goes swimming cuz she likes doing flips underwater and hates water in her nose

- LOVES CAMPING!!! that girl can be OUTDOORS.

- has binders full of pokemon cards. she goes to this card shop by her house that has pokemon saturdays and plays matches for like…the whole day. she can and WILL trash talk a 7 year old little boy after beating him

- follows so many niche meme pages

- orange chicken enthusiast.

- this is literally canon in the show but she HATES COFFEE. she is a chai latte woman. with oatmilk cuz like…duh….lesbian

- absolutely goated at just dance for NO REASON

- really good at making string friendship bracelets

#loser!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #tlou x reader #tlou fic #lesbian

[em-dash-press]

Ways to Skip Time In Your Stories

Finding ways to skip time in stories can feel challenging. Writers often worry it’ll make their work feel too amateur or negatively affect their pacing. 

The truth is that every author includes ways they skip time to maintain their pacing and plot. Check out a few ways to do it with confidence. 

1. Start a New Chapter

Yes, it’s really that simple. Go back to your favorite books and note how each chapter ends. You’ll likely find a few of these tricks that transition the story in ways that match the story’s flow.

Ideas to End a Chapter

The protagonist goes to sleep (likely overused, but practical)

The characters end a conversation

One character informs another of a plot twist

Unexpected action occurs, like a car crash

2. Emphasize the Season

You don’t need to tell the reader exact dates or hours to pass the time. You could mention the season instead.

If a scene or chapter ends in the summer and you need your plot to start in winter, make your protagonist mention something about the leaves changing color and giving way to snow before your action picks up again. It will only take a sentence or two, so it’s also an effective method for short stories.

3. Visualize a Movie Montage

Imagine watching a movie about a character who goes on a summer adventure. They backpack through Europe, but they have to take a flight to get there. 

You likely wouldn’t see them standing in airport security lines, napping in a terminal or watching a full movie on their flight to their destination. Instead, you’d get a montage of them driving to the airport with a shot of their plane cruising over the open ocean.

Writers can do the same thing, minus the soundtrack in the background. Describe how your character got to their destination when a new chapter or scene starts. Your readers will get the general idea and appreciate getting straight to the plot that made them pick up your story in the first place.

Here are a few ideas to do this in just a few sentences:

One delayed flight and a bad airplane dinner later, I was walking out of the Amsterdam-Schiphol Airport with an aching back and excited heart.

My trip began with the perfect flight. I got an entire row of seats to myself, which made napping through the trip much easier. A flight attendant roused me awake when it was time to land. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d arrived in Athens that quickly.

My flight was just long enough to catch up on the movies I’d been missing over the last year. The landing gear bounced along the runway in Rome just as the Barbie credits started flashing across my iPad.

4. Showcase Some Confusion

Sometimes we aren’t aware of what time it is. We only know time has passed. That might be the best way to make time pass in your story if your protagonist gets confused, caught by surprise, or otherwise discombobulated.

These are some examples:

I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. The sun was already peaking in the clear blue sky. How long had it been since my explosive video call with my ex the night before?

The time machine landed with a thud that knocked me to the ground. The control panel exploded in shimmering sparks. What year was it?

Working a double shift always left my brain spinning. I left work, walking across the parking lot with only the stars watching my back. I could feel the hours aching in my feet, but didn’t care what time it really was. I just needed to sleep.

5. Employ a Phrase

There are many quick phrases you can use to make your time jumps immediately clear. Consider using a few of these when you feel creatively stuck:

Later that morning

A few weeks later

After months of trying

Six hours later

The following week

As the store closed for the night

-----

There are many other ways to make time pass in a story. Starting with these could help you figure out the best way to move your story forward without disrupting its pacing. 

Remember, you’re in control of your story at all times. There’s always a way through creative challenges if you take a deep breath and try something new.

#writing chapters #writing scenes #chapter writing #scene transitions #chapter transitions #writing transitions #writeblr #writing advice #writing tips #writers of tumblr #creative writing #writing #writing community #writing inspiration #writing help #writing resources

[miley1442111]

the problem with arguing

a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner

summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?

warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.

1.6k + words.

“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it. 

I knock again as I huff. 

“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye. 

“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh. 

“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?” 

A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile. 

“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?” 

My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.” 

The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness. 

“You two know what time it is?” He yawns. 

“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?” 

“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure. 

He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”

We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.

And that’s when it all goes black. 

I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me. 

“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number. 

I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron. 

“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.

Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails. 

“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out. 

“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise. 

“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks. 

I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out. 

I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt. 

“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed. 

“Jack,” I sigh in relief. 

“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive. 

Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”

I smile at both of them. 

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor. 

“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke. 

“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. 

Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy. 

The next day, the team come in to visit. 

“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me. 

“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”

“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says. 

“We got the guy-” Emily starts.

“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”

“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”

I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray. 

“Hungry?” He smiles. 

“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.

“Yes.”

I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”

“No.” 

My face drops. “Oh.” 

“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I did.” 

I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”

“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”

“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.” 

His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy. 

“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds. 

“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food. 

“I love you too.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #bau team #bau x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #bau imagine #penelope garcia #spencer reid #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds x you

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3

Summary: A series of mishaps has you and Eddie (and Grandma and Harris) in the same place at the same time, leading Eddie to let his guard down a bit. That is, until a secret is spilled.

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, injuries (nothing bloody or gory), mostly set in a hospital, mentions of Eddie's dad, mentions of CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 6k

Chapter 3/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

“Har-Bear?” Eddie calls out from the bedroom, pinning his nametag to his shirt. “You tie your sneakers yet?” His son had insisted that he didn’t need help with the laces, that he could do it on his own, but he’d be late for work if he waited any longer.

“Not…yet!” the tiny voice yells back, and Eddie can sense the frustration in his voice. “I think they’re broken.”

“Broken, huh?” Eddie laughs to himself as he walks out to the living room, where Harris is sitting in front of the door. Sure enough, his shoelaces remain untied, and tears roll down his cheeks. “C’mere, bud. It’s okay. I can tie ‘em for you this time.”

Harris shakes his head, brown curls bouncing on his scalp. He mumbles something unintelligible, and when Eddie bends down to help him, he pushes his hands away.

“Harris, enough!” Eddie hisses through gritted teeth, taking the laces and tying them quickly. “You know that you have school and Daddy has work.”

“B-b-but I’m the only one!” Harris wails, kicking his shoes off defiantly. Eddie picks them up with one hand and scoops up his son in the other, tipping towards the couch and hooking his pinky around Harris’s little backpack. He doesn’t have any time to waste; shoes will have to be put on at school. 

Maybe Ms. Sweetheart will have better luck with him, Eddie thinks wryly, wrangling a screaming Harris down the stairwell. 

“The only one what?” Eddie asks once the crying starts to subside.

“I’m the only–sniff–one at school who–hic–can’t tie my shoes!”

Eddie wrinkles his nose as he places a shoe-less Harris in his carseat. “I’m sure there are other kids who are still learning how to tie their shoes.”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, straining against the seatbelt. “All the other kids tie their own shoes, but Ms. Sweetheart or Mr. Will have to tie mine.”

Eddie’s heart sinks as he thinks of his son being the outcast as the freak, the rest of his friends flying past him as he gets left behind. “Tell ya what,” he says finally, mustering up a smile, “I’ll teach you, and you’ll be able to tie them in no time.”

His offer placates Harris, who spends the rest of the time singing along to the radio. Eddie wishes it could always be like this; happy and carefree, just driving and listening to his favorite metal station with his mini-me. Maybe one day it’ll happen, but the fleeting sense of hope disappears as quickly as it comes. His time with Harris might be limited if he doesn’t get his shit together.

The job was a start; he was lucky that the hours coincided with school drop-off and pick-up so he didn’t have to reach out to Wayne. He’d been working at Rock Records for about a week, and while it was a far cry from the stardom he’d once dreamed of, it was paying the bills and still allowed him to spend his time around music. And when his manager–a twenty-year-old named Ash who used her phone line to talk to friends rather than answer store calls–heard that he plays guitar, she’d all but insisted that he give lessons. If he could get Wayne to watch Harris a few days after school, that would be even more money in his pocket.

But, first, he actually has to start talking to his uncle again.

He pulls into the preschool parking lot, killing the engine and hopping out to help Harris from his carseat. When he opens Harris’s door, he immediately deflates.

“Harris, where is your jacket?” Eddie asks, heaving an exasperated sigh.

The little boy just shrugs. “I dunno. At home?” It’s not his fault; the chilly early October air just began settling in, and he’s not accustomed to including his jacket into his morning routine. A look of realization creases his brows, another tantrum on the horizon. “Now I won’t be able to go out for recess!”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie says reassuringly, shrugging off his own denim, patch-riddled jacket, “you can take mine.” It’s comically oversized on Harris’s tiny body, but the smile on his face is enough to distract Eddie from the chill settling on his own arms.

“Daddy, now I’m just like you!” Harris sticks out his tongue and makes the ‘rock-and-roll’ symbol with his pointer and pinky fingers, scrunching his big brown eyes shut.

Eddie laughs, taking his son’s hand as they cross the parking lot. The way he copies him is adorable, but there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he pictures Harris actually following in his footsteps.

As soon as he enters the school, Harris lets go of his father’s hand and bounds into the classroom, the jacket dragging on the ground like a regal cloak. “Ms. Sweetheart, look at my jacket!” he proudly announces, twirling around on one leg. “It’s my daddy’s!”

You smile, crossing your arms over your chest as you shake your head teasingly. “Harris, is daddy wearing your jacket?”

“Nooooo,” he says, jutting out his chin and giggling. “It’s too small, silly!”

Eddie shuffles in behind him; after a month of drop-offs, he’s realized that he’s never going to win the battle of getting Harris to walk beside him in the hallway. “Don’t forget your backpack, little dude,” he reminds him, handing him his bag and motioning towards the row of cubbies.

Nodding, Harris hangs it up on the hook, along with Eddie’s jacket. He starts to run towards the toy area, stopping when he hears you call out, “Harris…”

“Huh? Oh, right.” He flashes that innocent smile, slowing his pace to a walk.

You shake your head knowingly, grabbing the clipboard with the sign-in sheet from your desk. Wordlessly, you give it to Eddie, who takes it with a sigh. This is how it goes most mornings: he drops off Harris, scribbles his signature, and stalks off without so much as a “good morning.” It’s not ideal, but it’s better than the barrage of insults and snide comments that he seemed to prefer to greet you with.

He drops the clipboard on top of the cubbies with a clatter, turning to the door, but the sound of a child shrieking stops him in his tracks before he can leave.

“Harris, no!”

Eddie’s stomach turns at the way the little girl angrily shouts his son’s name. Harris is frozen in place, holding a weird contraption that Eddie doesn’t recognize. The boy’s lower lip trembles, and all Eddie wants to do is pick him up and yell at the other kid for making him cry, but you get to the scene first.

“Abby, Harris, what happened?” you ask, crouching down to their eye-level. There’s no accusations, just a soothing tone to de-escalate the situation.

“He took my Bop-It!” Abby pouts, stamping her foot in frustration. “He stole it from me!”

Eddie feels his fists clench involuntarily at the word stole. Harris would never steal. He was a good kid, and having the Munson name didn’t automatically make him a thief. He tries to send a telepathic message to Harris, willing him to stand up for himself, but it doesn’t work.

You eye the toy in Harris’s hand–the Bop-It in question, you assume–and meet his shy gaze. “Did you take Abby’s toy?” Again, your voice is free of judgment, and Eddie allows himself to relax ever-so slightly when you don’t automatically take the girl’s side.

“I just wanted to see it real quick!” Harris mumbles, shoulders slumping. “I was gonna give it back.”

“What should you do when someone has something that you want to see?” you prompt him gently, feeling Eddie’s eyes scrutinizing you, analyzing your every move you make to see how you’re treating his son.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, eyes wide and misty.

“You have to ask them and then wait for them to say yes,” you say, and he nods as you swivel to face Abby Carver. “Abby, if someone forgets to ask to see your toy, you can remind them nicely. With an inside voice.”

“But he didn’t even say sorry for stealing!” she whines.

“It was an accident,” Harris rebuts, scrunching up his nose, “an’ I didn’t steal it!”

Breathing out a soft sigh, you turn back to him to end the argument before it can really start. Hell hath no fury like a preschooler scorned. “Saying ‘sorry’ is important, even when we accidentally make someone feel sad or mad,” you tell him. 

“‘M sorry, Abby,” he says, handing her back the Bop-It. You can’t help but notice the way that he tucks his free hand into the pocket of his jeans, just like Eddie does when he’s anxious.

“It’s okay, Harris,” Abby says flatly, eager to flounce off to her friends and show them her toy, as Harris quietly joins some of the other boys to play with building blocks.

You press on your knees and stand up, finally allowing yourself to glance over at Eddie. He gives a tiny nod of acknowledgment; so subtle that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked. You’re not exactly sure what it means–thanks or good job or simply I’ll be back for pick-up–but he’s out the door before you can think about it further.

You really should have seen it coming. Should’ve listened to the proverbial alarm bells ringing when you’d heard the shower running. But you were exhausted from a long day at work; the Bop-It situation having kicked off a series of arguments between various groups of kids. At one point, you and Will had given up on storytime and basically played referee, just trying to keep the peace between tiny feuding humans.

You’re scraping the last bits of unfinished mashed potatoes into the garbage when you hear the crash. There’s a clatter of bottles and the pop pop pop of the shower curtain ripping off of its rings. Your blood runs cold and you nearly drop the plate you’re holding, palms suddenly slick with sweat.

“Grandma?” Your voice catches in your throat, a hoarse whisper, and you clear it and try again as you fly towards the bathroom. “Grandma?!” 

There’s no answer; between the steady pounding of the shower and her own declining hearing, you expected just as much. You push open the door that she thankfully left unlocked to find her laying in the tub, tears mixing with the stream of water. She cradles her left wrist in her right hand, mumbling inaudibly to herself between heaving sobs.

“Grandma, what happened?” you ask, leaning over to finagle the knob to the “OFF” position.

She looks up as if she’s just realized you’re standing there, too disoriented and focused on the pain to take in any of her surroundings. “I fell.”

You reach for the powder blue towel hanging on the back of the bathroom door and pluck it off of its hook. “Here,” you say, draping it over her shoulders, “let me cover you and I’ll help you up.” It seems absurd to worry about modesty, given the urgency of the situation, but you can tell based on her sheepish demeanor that the small part of her that still feels shame is pinging in her brain. You tuck your hands under her arms, lifting with your knees and hoisting her to her feet. “Grab the bar,” you instruct her, nodding your head towards the silver safety bar lining the shower wall.

“Can I dry you off?” She gives a small nod, letting go to hold her swelling wrist. “Keep holding onto the bar. I don’t want you to slip and fall again.”

“But it hurts,” she whimpers, and you know this will be a losing battle. Even if she does agree to grab onto it again, she’ll almost certainly forget, and you'll have to start the whole process over. Instead, you carefully run the towel over her, watching as the cloth soaks up droplets and trying not to think about how backwards this all seems. There was a time where she was the one drying you off, lifting you out of your little bath seat in the kitchen sink and cooing at her beloved baby granddaughter, hope and joy filling her eyes. A time where life seemed limitless, and maybe she’d started to slow down, but she’d sworn that she’d always remember this moment. She couldn’t even imagine forgetting you.

Grabbing the pile of clothes from their spot on the tiled floor, you find her shirt and offer it to her. “I can help you put it on,” you tell her, toeing the line of preventing another fall and respecting her dignity.

Grandma’s lips curl into a frown and she shakes her head. “Those are dirty,” she protests.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to grasp onto the last bit of patience you have left. The words, You didn’t even go anywhere today rests on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow them down, force a smile, and say, “Okay. Let’s get you to your bed so you can sit down, and we’ll pick out new ones.”

She reluctantly agrees to this, and you slowly walk her to the bedroom and grab the first of everything you can find. A fuschia t-shirt and green sweatpants might not be her best look, but you’re not trying to style her for a runway show. After sliding her fluffy pink slippers over her feet, you help her up and guide her to the door, where she stops in her tracks.

“Can’t wear these outside,” she says simply, pointing to the slippers.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her, grabbing your keys from the small table tucked in the corner. “You can wear them outside this time.”

She doesn’t budge. “No, I need my other ones.” Her gaze lands on the pair of white Reeboks resting on the shoe rack. She starts to lean over to take them, but she’s still unsteady on her feet, and you wrap your arm around her torso before she can wobble.

“Just…just sit,” you mutter, feeling anger rise in your chest like a thundercloud. It wasn’t her fault that she was being stubborn, but it didn’t quell the burning frustration. You toss her rejected footwear to the side, silently reminding yourself to pick it up later, and shimmy her feet into the sneakers. You tie the laces into a double knot, pulling nice and tight, determined to keep it from unraveling.

Eddie’s day at work wasn’t much better than yours. After dropping Harris off at school, his first customer had been a middle-aged woman who claimed that a record had been scratched when she’d bought it a few weeks ago, insisting that Eddie had sold it to her that way. Which could have been the case, except he’d only started the job earlier that week. 

All he wants now is a nice cold beer, but he has to wait until Harris goes to sleep. Years of watching his own father guzzle down Johnnie Walker until he fell into a drunken stupor led him to promise never to drink in front of his son. 

“Bedtime, buddy!” he announces. He doesn’t even have to pretend to be excited; the second Harris dozes off, he’s going to crack open that Coors Light and watch the most mind-numbing show on TV. 

Harris throws his head back in exasperation. “But Daaaaadyyyy, I’m not even tired!” His whine pierces Eddie’s eardrum, making him grimace. 

“It’s 7:30, and it’s a school night,” he tells him, keeping his voice as steady as possible. “But tomorrow is Friday, so you can stay up a little later then.” He walks over to the tiny dresser pushed up against the wall, pulling out the bottom drawer and taking out a pair of dinosaur-print pajamas. “C’mon, let’s go. Pajamas, pee, and brush those teeth.”

“I’m…not…tired!” Harris screams at the top of his lungs. His cheeks flush beet-red, and spit gathers at the corners of his mouth. 

Eddie clenches his fist around the pajamas, feeling his fingernails dig into the soft cotton. He inhales for three, then exhales for three, feeling the oxygen flow through his lungs. “Harris,” he manages through gritted teeth, “I’m going to count to five. And when I’m done, I want you doing your bedtime routine, or you’ll go to bed early tomorrow.” He takes one more deep breath, getting to two before Harris angrily snatches the pajamas from his grip and stomps off to the bathroom. 

The boy only brushes his teeth for a grand total of ten seconds, but Eddie doesn’t have the stamina to argue about oral hygiene tonight. Tucking Harris into bed, he leans in to kiss him on the forehead, but he’s met with the back of his head. 

Logically, he knows that there will come a time where Harris won’t want a kiss good night, won’t need his dad to help him into bed. Eddie just hadn’t planned on it being tonight. 

“I hate you.” Harris’s voice is muffled from his lips being smushed into the pillow, but Eddie received the message loud and clear. It reverberates in his brain like an echo in a tunnel: I hate you I hate you I hate you. 

Eddie backs out of the room slowly, flicking off the light and closing the door. He forgoes the shitty TV and sits in silence as he sips on his beer, letting the bitterness seep into his tongue before he swallows. 

The venom in Harris’s voice was unmistakable. Eddie knew all too well how it felt to hate a parent. That raw anger swelled within him each time his father got them thrown out of another apartment, or conveniently forgot to pick up groceries (but always managed to remember his booze and drugs), or put his hands on Eddie. 

My son hates me, Eddie thinks, taking a last swig of his drink and absentmindedly wiping the foam from his lips. I’m a shit dad, and my son hates me. 

He’s too wrapped up in his own thoughts, leaving the sound of squeaking bed springs unnoticed until a loud thud followed immediately by the sound of Harris’s distraught wail snaps him to attention.  

“Daddy!” Harris cries out, and Eddie’s sprinting to the bedroom before he can even finish the second syllable. 

“What happened?” His voice is louder than he intends from the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and it only makes Harris cry harder. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he says, softening his tone as he flicks on the light. His eyes widen when he sees the way his son’s arm is twisted. 

“I couldn’t—sniffle—sleep, s-so I—sniffle—t-tried to j-jump my awake out,” Harris explains through hiccuping sobs. “An’ I h-hurted—sniffle—my arm.”

“C’mere, sshh, ‘s okay.” Eddie reassures him as he scoops him up, carefully avoiding his injury. “We gotta get you to the hospital so the doctors can fix it.”

Harris’s lower lip trembles again. “Are th-they gonna g-give me a sh-shot?”

“Nah, they’ll just have to do an x-ray,” he says, grimacing when he thinks of how much it’ll cost, even after Medicaid kicks in. “But those don’t hurt.”

Harris gives a tiny nod, still ambivalent as he nestles his head into the crook of his father’s neck. His curls tickle Eddie, who presses a kiss to the boy’s forehead and murmurs, “Daddy’s here, okay? I got you.” He feels Harris’s uninjured hand grab onto him a bit tighter as he brings him to the car.

“Can we go home now?”

You breathe out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in the chair and bouncing your leg anxiously. Hawkins General Hospital wasn’t crowded, and you and Grandma were taken to a room fairly quickly, but it still isn’t fast enough for an elderly woman who has no idea why she’s here. 

“We have to wait a little longer for the doctor to see us,” you explain for the fourth time in as many minutes. “They have to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” Your answer seems to placate her, at least until she asks again within the next sixty seconds, as she hums her acknowledgment.

There’a a soft knock on the door, and a perky blonde nurse pokes her head in the room as soon as you give her permission to enter. “Hi, I’m Chrissy; I’ll be your nurse,” she says, looking at your grandmother. “What brings you in to see us tonight?”

“I’m just here with her,” Grandma shrugs, pointing to you.

“She slipped and fell in the shower,” you explain patiently. “I know she hurt her wrist, but I’m not sure if she hit her head, and she has Alzheimer’s…” You glance at her uneasily. “She doesn’t even remember falling.”

Chrissy nods understandingly, offering a sympathetic smile as she makes a note on her chart. “I can take you in for an x-ray of your wrist, and then we’ll run some tests to rule out a head injury as best as we can, okay, Mrs…” Her gaze shifts back to the chart before she brings her attention back to you. “Do you teach at Hawkins Preschool, by any chance?”

“Guilty as charged,” you give the best semblance of a laugh you can muster.

“I recognized your last name,” she says as she helps Grandma off of the examination table. “My daughter is in your class. Abigail Carver? She absolutely adores you.”

The compliment buzzes in your chest as your smile becomes more genuine. “Well, thank you. That means a lot. And she’s a great kid, too.” Except when she’s screeching at her friends, you think, but you keep that tidbit to yourself.

“I work nights, so my husband handles the school stuff,” Chrissy explains. “But I’m glad we finally got to meet, even if it’s under these circumstances.”

She hooks her arm through Grandma’s, who promptly shakes her off. “Let go of me!” the older woman snarls, shuffling back towards you. She may not know exactly who you are, but there’s at least a level of familiarity that brings her some comfort.

“I’ll walk with you,” you offer, and Chrissy agrees gratefully as the three of you gradually make your way down the starch-white hallway.

Unbeknownst to you, in a room just across the hall, Harris Munson is showing his dad how he can hop up and down on one leg without losing his balance.

Jesus H. Christ; does this kid ever run out of energy? Eddie silently wonders, but he plasters a smile on his face. “That’s really cool, Har-Bear. Just, uh, sit down before you hurt yourself even more.”

Harris is about to pout when a nurse enters the room. She’s probably in her mid-fifties, Eddie surmises, with brown hair that’s streaked gray and pulled back in a low bun. 

“Harris Munson?” she asks shortly, and Eddie points to the little jumping bean standing next to him. “Come with me to the x-ray room.” She doesn’t offer her name, but Eddie catches a glimpse of the badge on her scrubs pocket that reads “Anna.”

Anna has Harris place his arm on the table, gingerly moving it to take x-rays from different angles. Standing in the doorway, Eddie winces at the tiny yelps his son lets out with each minimal adjustment. “You’re hurting him,” he manages through a bone-dry throat.

“If there is a break or sprain, we need to ensure that we find it,” she explains impatiently, retreating back to the room where she snaps a few more images before bringing them back to the room.

“Dad?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m sleepy now.�� Harris punctuates his statement with a yawn, laying back on the examination table and dozing off just moments later.

Eddie takes his jacket–the same one that Harris wore at school that day–and places it over the boy’s sleeping body in a makeshift blanket. By the time the radiologist comes in to deliver the results, Eddie’s struggling to keep his own eyes open.

“How’re we doing in here?” she says, watching as Harris stirs, stretches his little legs, and promptly falls asleep again. “Is it past someone’s bedtime?”

“His and mine,” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes and sitting up straighter. There’s a pinch in his lower back from slouching in the uncomfortable chair, and he grimaces as he tries to massage the sore spot. 

“Well, you’ll be out of here soon. It looks like Harris did break his wrist, so we’ll need to get a cast on it, but we can discharge him as soon as it’s done.”

“Brilliant.” Eddie presses on his knees as he stands up to gently shake his son awake. “Hey, bud. It’s time to wake up so you can get a super cool cast.”

“Mmph,” Harris grunts, throwing his good arm over his eyes dramatically. 

Eddie just laughs, not catching the concerned look on the doctor’s face as she flips through Harris’s chart. “C’mon, I’ll carry you, but you gotta help me out here.” Harris begrudgingly complies, wrapping his legs around Eddie’s waist and holding onto him as tightly as he can.

“It’ll only take about fifteen minutes,” the doctor explains, rubbing Harris’s back for good measure. “You can drop him off in this room, Mr. Munson. One of our nurses needs to speak with you.”

He doesn’t like the look on her face; the one that simultaneously gives away nothing and too much. Her lips press together in a thin smile, one that’s obviously forced, as an orthopedic technician guides Eddie into the next room.

The unfriendly nurse from earlier, Anna, is waiting for him outside the door. 

“Mr. Munson, could I speak to you privately?” Eddie nods wordlessly, traipsing behind her back to the room where Harris had just been sleeping.

“Mr. Munson,” Anna begins, and Eddie swears he’ll punch a hole through the hospital’s wall if she keeps speaking in that condescending tone, “as you know, ensuring the safety and wellbeing of our patients, particularly our pediatric ones, is our top priority here at Hawkins General.” She pauses, as though he’s supposed to have some response to that, but he remains silent. “Given the nature of your son’s injury, coupled with the report that a nurse smelled alcohol on your breath when you entered our facility, we have to report this incident to Child Protective Services.”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head; his fists clench involuntarily, and he has to remind himself to steady his breathing. In for three, out for three. “There–there must be some mistake,” he stammers. “I had one beer after Harris went to bed–well, he was supposed to be in bed–and I was well under the legal limit when I brought him here.”

Anna cocks her head, and rage surges through Eddie’s bloodstream at her subtle gesture of disbelief. He didn’t even drink when his son was awake, let alone drive drunk. And the thought of him hurting Harris, whether under the influence of alcohol or not, was enough to turn his stomach. For fuck’s sake, he felt guilty if he accidentally stepped on the kid’s toes.

“Be that as it may,” the nurse continues, and Eddie swears she’s trying to suppress an eyeroll, “I also see that there was a previous report from 1992–”

“When he was born?” Eddie sputters. “That–that had nothing to do with me. His mom…”

Anna glances back down at Harris’s chart and frowns. “It looks like both you and Harris’s mother were listed in that report.” She looks up at Eddie again. “This is out of our hands now. CPS will take over from here and determine the next steps to take.” With that, she walks away, leaving Eddie leaning against the door with tears in his eyes.

All he can think about are the custody papers Wayne gave him. The way he’d angrily torn them up, taking them as a threat, rather than an offer to help. The way he’d blamed Wayne for his life going to shit.

I hate you, Harris had said earlier that evening.

Maybe Wayne was right. Maybe Harris was better off without his dad around to fuck up everything in his path.

You’re waiting at the front desk for Grandma’s discharge papers when you hear an excited voice call out your name; rather, his nickname for you.

“Ms. Sweetheart!”

You turn around to see Harris Munson running towards you, sporting a bright orange cast on his wrist. “What happened to you?” you ask with a smile–a genuine one, this time. That little boy always manages to cheer you up.

“I was trying to jump my awake out and I breaked my wrist,” he says. “So then my daddy taked me here and I got this cast. See?” He holds out his arm two inches from your eyes, as though the neon color wasn’t already a dead giveaway.

“That is the coolest cast I’ve ever seen,” you tell him. “I broke my leg once, and I just got a boring white one.” You pout your lips exaggeratedly, making Harris laugh. “I bet all the kids in school will wanna sign it tomorrow.”

Harris breaks out into a giant grin. “They can sign it?”

“Sure can!”

He thinks for a moment and asks, “Will you sign my cast, Ms. Sweetheart?” He looks up at you with those soft brown eyes, and you feel yourself start to melt.

Before you can answer him, your Grandma speaks up. “I’m leaving,” she declares, already trying to take off the sling that the nurse gave her for her sprained wrist.

“I just need to sign you out, Grandma,” you explain. “And remember, you need to keep the sling on so your wrist can heal.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” she hisses. “I hate you.”

Your face heats up, embarrassed at her outburst and at the fact that it happened in front of a student and his parent. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, though you’re unsure if you’re apologizing more to Eddie or to Harris. “She has Alzheimer’s…she doesn’t know…”

You expect Eddie to laugh at your misfortune, but when your eyes flicker to his face, you only see sympathy.

“‘S okay,” he says softly, putting a ringed hand on Harris’s shoulder. “I feel like swearing, too, after the night we’ve had.”

You offer a weak smile, still processing the unfamiliar kindness that he’s showing. “Thanks,” you manage, just as the receptionist hands you the discharge paperwork. “I’ll see you both at school tomorrow?”

“And you can sign my cast!” Harris exclaims, flashing a toothy grin. “Promise?”

“Promise.” You ruffle his hair, leading Grandma out to the car before she can conjure up another slew of swear words.

Eddie wakes up the next morning still exhausted. He rolls over, catching a glimpse of Harris still sleeping soundly in his racecar bed. He’s tempted to let him sleep in a bit, maybe take the day off from school, but he knows how badly he wants Ms. Sweetheart to sign his cast.

Ms. Sweetheart.

He’d been thinking about you all night. The way your calm, confident demeanor had faltered when your grandma cursed at you and said she hated you. The way you caved in a bit, as though her words had punctured you.

You hadn’t reacted like that when Eddie called you a bitch; you’d simply carried on as though the words meant nothing to you.

Because they did mean nothing to you. Because he meant nothing to you. He was just another drop in the douchebag bucket, and once you’d gotten over the initial sting of rejection, you’d moved on. And so had he.

Right?

He tries to shake these thoughts from his mind as he gets Harris ready for school, but it’s nearly impossible when all the kid can talk about is how he saw Ms. Sweetheart at the hospital and how she’s going to sign his cast today.

“She’s the bestest teacher I’ve ever had,” Harris tells Eddie, shoving a spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth.

“She’s the only teacher you’ve ever had, buddy,” Eddie reminds him, but Harris remains unfazed.

Sure enough, you’re waiting outside the classroom door, black Sharpie in hand. Harris’s eyes light up when he spots you.

“Ms. Sweetheart! You remembered!”

“Of course I remembered,” you say, uncapping the marker and crouching down to his level. Both Eddie and Harris watch intently as you write your signature, complete with a little heart.

Ms. Sweetheart ♡

“Go ahead and unpack,” you tell Harris. “Once you finish your morning routine, we can have your friends sign it, too.”

“Okay!” He starts to run, but crawls to a stop. “Gotta use my walking feet in the classroom.”

You give him a thumbs-up, turning back to hand Eddie the sign-in sheet.

“I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head incredulously. “I’ve been trying to get that kid to slow down since he learned how to run. Swear to God, he skipped right over the ‘walking’ stage and went straight to sprinting.”

You laugh at his remark, taking the clipboard back from him. “Try the walking feet trick. I’ll let you borrow it, free of charge.”

“Much appreciated.” He starts to leave, but stops before he can fully turn his back to you. “How’s your grandma, by the way?”

His kind gesture catches you off-guard, but you recover quickly. “Already giving me a hard time about the sling, but that’s the home health aid’s problem until I get back.”

Eddie steps forward, awkwardly resting his hand on your upper arm for just a second. He’s not exactly sure what he’s doing, or why, but it felt like the right move. “Well, uh, good luck. With the whole ‘sling’ fiasco.”

“I’ll need it.”

He smiles, and you easily return it. It’s an olive branch, one that you eagerly reach out and take. It’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever given you.

Eddie’s walking back down the hallway, feeling as though a weight has been lifted off of his overburdened shoulders, when he hears it:

“...reported to CPS. Apparently, this isn’t the first time it’s happened.”

No. No. There’s no way that they could be talking about him.

He rounds the corner towards the school lobby to see Carol Perkins talking to Steve Harrington, her hushed whisper not soft enough to prevent other people from hearing.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Yup,” Carol nods. “Something about when he was born? Like, how bad of a parent do you have to be to get reported to CPS as soon as your kid is born?”

Eddie feels the bile rise in his throat. His suspicions are further confirmed when she adds, “And get this–he was drinking when he brought Harris to the hospital. That’s why I’ll never let Frankie play at his house.”

There’s no way he can just walk past them and act like he hadn’t heard anything, so he decides to wait until they finish their conversation. They made him sound like some sort of neglectful alcoholic who disregards his son’s safety. They made him sound like his dad.

As Steve and Carol say their goodbyes, Eddie takes one last glance back towards the classroom. You’re cheerfully greeting an adoring student, ruffling her hair like you did to Harris at the hospital last night.

Eddie sucks in a quick breath. You were there last night. You were also in the orthopedic wing, as evidenced by your grandma’s injury. You had been humiliated in front of him for the second time; the first was when Eddie hadn’t called you after the one-night stand. And now you wanted revenge.

No wonder you were so friendly this morning. This whole time, you were just waiting for him to slip up. Waiting for him to have his moment of weakness. Now he knows better than to trust you. He won’t make that mistake again.

--

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[hellodarling1357]

Tiny Toes: Part 3 - Cassian x Reader

And now we have Cassian and reader telling Ottie about their relationship!!

I know absolutely nothing about child speech development, so if Ottie seems to be talking too much for a 2.5 year old, let’s just say it’s a fae thing 🤷‍♀️

Here's part 1 and part 2 if you need to catch up! And please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, or if I have accidentally left you off of it!

If you have any requests for this series, send them in! Writing Tiny Toes is bringing me so much joy 😍

A/N: they wanted to wait a little while before telling Ottie to see if they would actually work as a couple

Word Count: 2.7k

“I want to tell her.”

Looking up from your book, you quirked your head at Cassian, noting his continuous pacing across the length of your bedroom and his hand tousled hair.

“Okay, we’ll tell her,” Sitting up from your spot against the soft pillows, you put your book down and curled your knees to your chest.

Cassian let out an exasperated noise as he ran a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time, looking at you intensely for a moment before continuing his pacing.

“Or we can wait.” You counted, this was entirely up to him, however, and whenever, you ended up telling Ottie, it would be on his terms. Another frustrated noise had you fighting back a giggle before letting out a small sigh as Cassian fully collapsed onto the bed beside you. You watched in amusement as he rolled onto his side, smushing his face against the skin of your thigh. You moved your hand down to trail your fingers through his hair, giving him the space and silence to process his thoughts.

“I don’t know what to do.” His voice was muffled against your skin, but he leant into your touch, eyes closing at the feel of the soft tugs at his scalp.

After a few minutes of silence, Cassian let out a sigh then pressed a trail of kisses along your thigh before shifting his head to look up at you.

“Hi,” You whispered, a small smile gracing your features as you pushed the stray pieces of hair out of his face.

“Hi,” He whispered back, pressing another kiss to your soft skin before hauling himself up to lean against the headboard and tugging you towards him until you were cuddled against his side, his head now burrowed into your neck as he trailed patterns along your hip.

“Cassian, we don’t have to do anything yet.”

“I know, but I want to. I want more than this for us, for you –”

“It’s fine, Cass. I don’t mind waiting.”

“Sure, but it’s not fair to ask this of you, and don’t try to tell me otherwise,” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before wrapping his arms tighter around you. “I don’t like that the only time we can be together is when Ottie isn’t around. I want her to be a part of this, and I want you to be a part of us.”

You remained silent, turning your head slightly to slant your lips over his in a soft kiss before leaning your head on his shoulder and inhaling his scent that you had grown so accustomed to over the past few months. You weren’t going to offer an opinion on the matter, content in letting Cassian work through this in whatever way he thought was best for Ottie.

“She’s been asking about you, you know? Doesn’t get why you’re no longer looking after her.”

“You know I don’t mind, if you need me to –”

“No. Thank you, but no. I think it’ll be easier for her to process, adapt, if she no longer sees you as her babysitter, but as someone who is properly a part of our lives.”

“Okay,” You let a comfortable silence fall before adding, “Whatever you decide, Cass, you know I’ll support you.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

*****

Doing your best to ignore the pattering of butterflies in your stomach, you hurried up the steps leading to the front door of Cassian’s house. Letting out a breath, you quickly knocked on the door, taking a step back as you fiddled with the small bunch of pink flowers you had purchased on your way over.

The soft pitter-patter of footsteps that you could picture running across the entrance way had a smile tugging at your lips.

“She’s here. Daddy, hurry up. I can’t open the door,” Ottie’s little voice filtered out to you, and you could just make out a small jump as though she was reaching for the door handle. “Daddy.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Now Cassian’s heavy footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. “Ottie, I can’t open the door if you’re in the way.” You laughed at the exasperated sigh she let out before moving out of the way, finally allowing the door to swing open.

“Hey, you–” But Cassian was cut off by a squeal of excitement as Ottie leapt forward, wrapping her arms around your leg.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” Her little hands were now reaching up to you so with a grin you bent down and scooped her into your arms.

“Well, hello Miss Ottie. I’ve missed you too,” You smothered her chubby cheeks in kisses, laughing along with Cassian at the hysterical fit of giggles it sent her into.

“Hi,” You greeted Cassian, heart faltering as you found him already staring at you, a look of adoration shining in his eyes.

“Hey,”

You raised your eyebrows at him as if to say, “you ready for this?” The grin he gave you in return had the butterflies returning to your stomach for a whole different reason as your own features softened in response.

The moment was quickly interrupted by Ottie grabbing your face and demanding in her little voice, “Where have you been?” Somewhat startled, you looked back at Cassian, but he simply rolled his eyes as if to say that her sudden attitude was now the norm.

“Ottie, we spoke about this…” Cassian’s voice was laced with parental warning that you had so rarely heard. She let out a huff before turning as much as she could whilst still in your arms so that her back was to him.

In an attempt to diffuse the tension, you poked Ottie’s cheek, grinning when her pout made way to a cheeky smile. “Do these make up for it?” You showed her the flowers, laughing as her mouth fell open in awe and surprise before looking at you in confirmation.

“Are they for me?”

“If you’ve been a good girl for you dad they are,” Your voice had a teasing tone to it, fully aware of how much of a handful she had been for Cassian recently. Ottie gave you a smile, a picture of pure innocence before nodding her head and reaching for the flowers.

A playful scoff came from Cassian as he watched on in amusement, his heart thundering in his chest at the sight of the two of you together.

“Really, Ottie? You’ve been a good girl, have you?” Her wide eyes turned to you, her innocent expression quickly switching to guilt as she wiggled in your arms in an attempt to escape Cassian as he tickled her sides. Placing Ottie back on her feet, you handed her the flowers, and she grinned up happily at both you and Cassian, all her previous attitude long gone.

Letting out a sigh, Cassian turned to you with an exasperated expression before saying, “Come on, let’s get these in some water then we can go, alright?” ushering both you and Ottie inside.

With Ottie running ahead, focus purely on her flowers, Cassian slowed his walk and linked his fingers with yours, giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“You ready?”

“Are you?”

“Daddy, I can’t reach the flower glass.” Throwing his hands up in mock frustration you giggle to yourself as you walk towards the kitchen.

“It’s called a vase, Ottie. Do you want me to fill it with water so you can put the flowers in it?”

Ottie nodded enthusiastically, walking over to you, she leant against your legs as you watched Cassian reach up for the vase; you didn’t miss the rise of his shirt and the exposed skin it left in its wake. Cassian, apparently, didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered, shooting you a suggestive smirk and wiggle of his eyebrows as he turned to fill the vase.

“Up?” He asked Ottie before swooping her into his arms and helping her place the flowers into the vase. “Now what do we say?” He prompted her, placing a kiss to her cheek as he turned to face you.

“Thank you for my flowers, Y/N.”

“You’re very welcome, Ottie.”

Ottie shifted slightly and wrapped her arms around Cassian’s neck, loudly whispering, “Daddy, can we please get some ice cream now?”

That had been the plan you and Cassian had come up with; take Ottie out for something fun and then gently tell her in a setting where she could be easily distracted if you didn’t think it was going to end well.

“I think that sounds like a perfect idea, princess.”

With one arm holding Ottie to his side, Cassian placed his free hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you all to the front door, his hand falling to his side so that his fingers could gently brush against yours as you headed into the city centre of Velaris.

*****

Ottie looked like the happiest person alive with her mega-three scoop ice cream cone, covered in sprinkles and chocolate syrup. Cassian had quickly handed you both your own and his ice cream cones so that you could get Ottie out of the store before she could spill any of the sticky mess that was already leaking down her arms as he paid.

“Enjoying yourself there, Otts?” You asked, watching as she sat on the bench, swinging her feet back and forth with a happy little smile as she ate her ice cream and watched the fae walking around the square.

“Mhm,” was her satisfied reply. “Y/N, can I please try some of your ice cream?”

“You don’t think you have enough there?” You questioned, already extending the cone to her so that she could try some.

“Nope,” She made a delighted noise at the taste, “Now some of daddy’s ice cream?”

“Quick, before he catches you.” You grinned at Cassian as you passed Ottie his ice cream, fully aware that he was watching the scene play out as he walked over to you.

Cassian sat on Ottie’s other side, sneakily trying some of her ice cream while she was focused on his. She looked at him in complete, utter indignation.

“That’s mine,” Her pout had you both laughing, and Cassian was quick to point out, “Well you tried some of Y/N’s and some of mine, so it’s only fair to share yours too.”

You and Cassian fell into a comfortable silence as you enjoyed the feel of the sun across your skin, content in listening to Ottie ramble on about whatever thought popped into her head.

Leaning back against the bench, Cassian stretched one arm over Ottie, pulling her into his side, and then extended it over to you, nudging you closer as well, before he started to absentmindedly twirl strands of your hair throughout his fingers.

“Hey, Otts? Do you remember asking me the other day why Y/N hadn’t been over in a while?”

“Mhm,” Ottie replied, continuing to swing her feet back and forth as she leant her head against Cassian’s side, one of her hands reaching for yours to hold in her lap. Cassian’s eyes found yours before he said anything else, you gave him a small smile and a reassuring nod, watching as he took in a deep breath.

“Well, when you first met Y/N, she was coming over to look after you because daddy had to go back to work for Uncle Rhys,” Ottie tilted her head up, giving him a look as if to say duh, I already knew that, which had you fighting a smile at the thought of what she would be like as a teenager. Cassian gave her nose a soft flick before continuing, “But after spending so much time together, Y/N and I decided we wanted to be friends, but that means she can’t work–”

Ottie turned to you, a look of complete betrayal on her face that had you and Cassian tensing, “But you’re my friend. Does this mean you’re not going to play with me anymore?” The slight quiver of her lower lip had you grasping both her hands and pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Of course not, sweetheart. I love spending time with you,” You looked up at Cassian for confirmation that he still wanted to go ahead with this before continuing, “But now we will just be playing when you dad is home as well.”

“Oh. Okay.” Then she went back to swinging her feet as though nothing had happened.

“So, Ottie,” Cassian prompted again, trying to get the conversation back on track. “You’re okay if Y/N and I start spending more time together?”

“Yep. She’s your friend, like Auntie Feyre and Auntie MorMor.”

“Well, Y/N is a special friend, so it is a bit different from when daddy is spending time with Auntie Feyre and Auntie MorMor.”

“A special friend?”

Cassian looked at you for help, unsure how to explain any further; all you could offer was a slight grimace and a shrug.

“Erm, yeah, a special friend. So… so Y/N might start having dinner with us… and sometimes she might have a sleepover and then have breakfast with us the next day” He gave you a look as though asking if what he was saying was the right thing. You, however, were too focused on the fact that he was telling Ottie that you might start sleeping the night to give him much in terms of a response – you didn’t expect him to be comfortable with you staying overnight for a long time.

“Oh,” Ottie’s voice peaked in excitement, “you can stay in my room.” The grin she gave you was dazzling and reminded you so much of Cassian. You could sense his slight frustration, not knowing how to get the point across to a two-and-a-half-year-old.

“Well, at these sleepovers, Y/N could tuck you into bed and we could read you a story, but then once you’ve fallen asleep, she would be sleeping in daddy’s room, right Y/N?”

Giving her a reassuring smile, you nodded at Ottie, not knowing what else to say in this situation.

“Oh. Okay.”

You shared a look with Cassian, neither of you sure how to take her reaction. The slight tilt of Ottie’s head had you noting her look of contemplation, eyebrows furrowed in thought, again reminding you of the male you had very quickly fallen for. Then she let out a little gasp, turning on the spot so that she was now kneeling on the bench and facing both you and Cassian, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Daddy? If you and Y/N are special friends, does that mean you hold hands?”

Cassian turned to you with wide eyes to which you responded with a shrug and an amused smile.

“Um, yes, we do hold hands. Is that…okay?” His voice was laced with hesitancy as he closely watched his daughter for her reaction.

Her mouth gaped open before making way for a conspiratorial smile then she was climbing into Cassian’s lap. “Go on.”

Cassian looked to you again, “Ottie?”

She gave you a quick look then leant up to whisper in Cassian’s ear, “Hold her hand, daddy.”

Cassian, eyes still fixed on you, broke into a smile which you were quick to return, taking in the obvious release of tension as he scooted down the bench and laced your hand in his.

“How’s that?” He whispered to Ottie, eyes still on you.

“Good.” Then she was happily swaying in Cassian’s lap, leaning her head back against his chest as she went back to watching everything that was happening in the small square.

You looked back at Cassian, a grin gracing your features at the relief and love that sparkled in his eyes. He shifted slightly, using one arm to wrap around Ottie, keeping her snug against him whilst still being able to hold your hand, the other was draped over your shoulders. You moved with him as he pulled you in closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then to Ottie’s before resting your head on his shoulder. Cassian leant his head down, placing a kiss of his own against the top of your head, a quiet “I love you,” whispered into your ear.

*****

Part 3.5

Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sarawritestories @beardburnsupersoldiers @eve175 @blushingfawnsposts @turtleshavesoulmates @slytherinindisguise @sleepylunarwolf

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x y/n #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #marley writes #cassian x you #cassian imagine #dad!cassian

[avaf00rdxx]

Little shits Pt 3

Arsenal women x Teen!reader

I know a promised this a few days ago but it actually took ages.

Like always enjoy!!

Warnings: spelling mistakes in too tired to read over xxx so if something doesn’t make sense it probs doesn’t

part 1😚

part 2😚

————————————————————————

“What time will you be ready?” Asked Katie through the phone. Whenever she went grocery shopping she would take you with her so you can do your shop. Then she claimed she could also make sure you buy the right foods for a girl living on her own.

You actually liked grocery shopping, it was so much fun now that you were living alone and got to pick the foods for your own kitchen. “Like now. Head over now”

She soon hung up the phone and found herself out the front of your building. You go down the lift and found the white car. You went to walk to the front seat when you found Caitlin in the front. She poked her tongue out at you from behind the glass as you smiled and hopped in the back, only to find a grinning Kyra sitting on the other side of the row. “Kyra!” You exclaimed as you hugged the girl.

“I’m coming” smirked Kyra at you

“Yeah and no being little shits!” Caitlin exclaimed from her seat

“Hi Cait” you said kissing her cheek, Katie pecked your shoulder as you hugged her from behind her seat. After 20 minutes on the road, Katie pulled her car up to the parking lot of the grocery store. Before leaning back to face you and Kyra.

“Ok no going crazy. Specifically you Kyra” Katie said as Kyra gave the older girl a ‘really?’ Look before she continued “have you got your list y/n?”

“Yes mum” you dragged out the last word as you got onto your notes app to check. Kyra only came along cause she was apparently ‘bored’. She already went shopping with mini, even though mini had only been in London a week, she was not happy with the 23 year old’s kitchen.

You all walked in the entrance with you grabbing your shopping basket. After 10 minutes, you were grabbing pasta stuff in one of the aisles, when exiting said aisle. Kyra and her obese puffer managed to knock down one of the cardboard-built shelves, with bottles of fake tanner on the shelves. The noise of 30 bottles of tan falling to the ground made the entire store turn around. You felt embarrassment standing next to the girl so you walked away from her, hiding into the next aisle, trying to hold onto your laugh.

“Sorry” Caitlin announced quietly to workers and other shoppers around as Katie and her knelt down to help the very embarrassed girl. You finally finished all of your shopping as you lined up to pay for yourself. You felt a light shove to your back from behind.

“Oi why did you leave me” Kyra complained “that was the worst thing I have ever experienced” she winged leaning into your shoulder whining.

“Are they done?” You asked Kyra, motioning to Katie and Caitlin

“Apparently not” Kyra said now standing behind you with her bag of chocolates, full on pushing in front of the middle aged woman in the line.

——————————

You were in your room packing a suitcase for Switzerland. Arsenal had some brand sponsorship situation with a travel company that you didn’t understand. But all you know is that the company was sending you, Alessia, Kyra, Vic, Caitlin, Katie, Teyah, beth, viv, Steph, Lia, Kim, Jen, Lotte, Laia, Leah and Amanda all to Switzerland. All in one house. Leah told you to get super excited cause the house in the mountains must be huge to fit 17 girls in.

You texted Leah to ask if she was done packing so you could come down to her apartment. Leah lived in the apartment below you so she took you to things often, you would both drive to the training grounds together so you could get on the bus for the airport.

“This is gonna be sick” you said later sitting at Leah’s kitchen island as she filled up her water bottle.

“Yeah it’ll be cool” she laughed screwing on the lid of her bottle

“I brought my Aussie rules ball” you said wiggling your brows at her, she was horrendous playing it. She let out a huff remembering it.

“We are gonna be in the cold mountains, no one is gonna wanna play with it”

“Ouch”

“Sorry. You know what I mean. Anyways are you ready?” She yelled across the flat, heading to her room to grab the suitcase. You propped yours up on its wheels, turning off all of Leah’s lights for her. You both drove peacefully in the car to the facility, you quickly connected tour phone to Leah’s car when she turned up her own music.

“Ew you just like old people music” you said turning on your preference

“This is not old people music. This is the greatest album of all time”

“Meh meh” you mimicked her as you turned on Nikki Minaj.

“Watch it Missy. And your music taste is just awful” she giggled next to you

“Watch it missy” you said back.

When you sooner arrived, you jumped out of the car and grabbed your suitcases from Leah’s boot, you kindly grabbed Leah’s out and setting it down upright next to the car. “Thank you tiny” she smiled as you both walked towards the other girls waiting neat the bus.

“Ah I do too much” you sighed shrugging

“I did just drive you here. Ever thought about me helping you apply for a driving test?” She looked down slightly at you as you walked together

“Why would I if I have a whole starting eleven who would do it for me?” You said motioning your hands towards the large group of girls ahead, all in their twenties. You noticed Viv’s back towards you as you sped up towards her, before quickly jumping on her back. “Missed you vivvy” you said sweetly.

“Ow you nearly did my spine” Viv whines as you hop off her.

Beth shoved you away from her girlfriend and pulled you into her. “How are you tiny?” She asked kissing the top of your head

“So excited” you hummed, squeezing her tight.

A few media staff would be coming with you. Since you were on the trip with some arsenal sponsor brand, they would film some fun media on the trip. Said staff announced that you could all leave your bags where they were and hop onto the bus. You got onto the bus last and saw Lia sitting on her phone in one of the front rows, you loved Lia. She was one of the sweetest people in the world in your opinion. So you pointed towards the seat, reading ‘is this taken?’ on your face, quickly before she moved her hat that was sitting on it motioning for you to sit next to her.

“It’s so cool we get to go to Switzerland, you have to show me everything” you said to the brunette. Your excitement to go to her country made her heart warm up as she pulled you into her side for a hug.

“You are gonna see everything. I think best travel guide right here” she pointed towards herself, making you giggle. The bus was still too cold for you so you unzipped your backpack to grab your warmer jacket out, you felt the front pocket vibrate where your phone was so you went to grab it. You saw a text from Kyra

Kyra

Im 6 rows behind turn around

You and Lia stupidly both turned around to look at the row before two scrunchies were flown at both your faces, Vic and Kyra both laughed loudly, while you whined at the stinging on your forehead. The elastic flying at both your faces actually hurt.

“Four victims down lets go” Kyra said high-fiving vic with a wide grin.

“You better get her on behalf of both of us” Lia sighed settling back down in her seat.

“The idiot better sleep with one eye open I say” you said making Lia giggle before opening her own phone.

———————

Later on the plane you found yourself sitting across from Kyra and Alessia. You again, sitting next to Lia.

“Y/n” kyra whispered from across the aisle. You peeked over Lia before Kyra waved at you. You thought it was weird but slowly waved back before mouthing a ‘what?’.

Kyra quickly turned to poor Alessia who was peacefully on her phone, “please switch with y/n/n” she held up being hands and pulled out her puppy dog eyes towards the blonde.

Kyra huffed followed by a laugh before getting her stuff and heading over towards where you were , you didn’t realise kyra had requested this until Alessia had made her way over to you. You were honestly getting bored of the sleepy Lia next to you. So you smiled at her before gabbing your bag and going over to Kyra.

“Absolutely not!” Leah slightly yelled from the other end of the plane, who caught you shuffling over next to Kyra.

“We won’t be loud I promise!” You said peeking over to see the blonde. She raised her eye brows at you before giving in to your begging eyes. You and kyra soon pulled up the games on your phone you could play together, you first started by playing Fifa mobile together.

“Aha! Goal!” You yelled throwing your arms up jolting out of your seat, you scored your eighth goal in the last few seconds “I win” you smiled before settling back down in your seat. Avoiding making eye contact with some of the other girls sending you glares due to your volume.

———————

You found yourself and 16 of your teammates at this random building having a briefing with an older man. He told you a bit about the house you would be staying at and how the next three days would look like. You really weren’t fazed by any of the given information, instead just excited to get there. It was already freezing you had put on your large puffer jacket, scarf and beanie. You were hoping to see snow while here.

You all hoped into multiple mini black vans to head to the house, you cuddled into Viv’s side of how cold it was. Both vehicles slowly pulled up a long driveway, you were first to notice the house “what the fuck-“ you said in shock looking at the house.

You received a slap to the shoulder by viv and an “oi” from Steph. But most were also in awe of the house, some taking photos. When you got out of the car there were wide faces and glowing eyes at the large house. The house was huge, covered in dark timber, still managing to give it a cozy feel due to its size, you could tell by the large number of balconies, that there would be many rooms. A wide scene of mountains surrounded the outside, which got you excited for the views from the rooftop you spotted. Lia held the list in her hand of how to unlock the door with the key and code, as all of you girls trudged your suitcases up the front stairs.

You noticed Kyra walking up in front of you, you grabbed a small pile of snow in your fist and threw it at her beanie-covered head. “Ow y/n!” Kyra wined.

“Don’t” Caitlin told you. You made a few of the girls laugh either way, so you didn’t really care.

Lia and Leah struggled for a few minutes to get the door unlocked with the code. But it was a success a moment later and everyone was trying to get in the door.

Lots of “oh my god”, “shit”, “this is huge” words could be heard from you and your teammates. A large staircase could be seen in front of you, leading to a range of bedrooms above. The biggest kitchen you had ever seen in your life to the right, with a floor length window containing the best views of the snowy mountains.

“Ok ok rooms, some get their own, some share, made by the staff” Kim said getting people’s attention, “Little room 1, sweet! Foordy and McCabe room 2, Teyah and Vic room 3, Jen room 4, Beth and Viv room 5, Lotte and Less room 6, room 7 Kyra and y/n - wait no” Kim said as most of the girls agreed, you two could not under any circumstances share a room for the next 3 nights. “One of them is gonna share with me. You two pick, who wants to share with me?” Kim asked you and Kyra.

“No its fine one can share with me” Steph said “you get a good sleep” she laughed at Kim.

“Ok I’ll share. At least ill be safe with Steph, Kyra watch out” you mentioned to the girl, noting that you would get her back for the bus.

“You already got me back with the snow to my head!” She exclaimed

“No more pranks” Steph smiled pushing you from behind slightly towards room 9. When the door was opened, Two huge queen sized beds were in the middle of the room, the comfiest looking beds you were sure you had seen in your life.

“Omg omg” you squeezed jumping up and down like a toddler.

“Insane!” Steph grinned wide admiring the room and its view from the large window behind the beds. You both unpacked your suitcases in the respective suitcases provided.

———————

“Hurry up you two!” You yelled at Katie and Caitlin who took a while to come out and play in the snow an hour later. “Cheeky girls” you smirked at Caitlin before Katie shoved you slightly and Caitlin threw snow at your face. The older girls broke out into laughter as you felt it go down your jumper. You shook your head and moulded the largest snowball you had seen and threw it right at Caitlin’s chest.

Those actions broke the sweet hour of all you girls making snow angels and snowmen into a full snowball fight. Everyone was after everyone at that moment, a hard throw from Amanda to the back of your head had you slowly falling over. You pulled at her feet from the ground, which caused her to join you in the slippery snow. You both were collapsed laughing. You saw Leah next to you, both you and Amanda looked at each other before throwing a snowball to her head. She groaned at the cold feeling.

“What happened” Jen laughed at her

“Just got 2 balls to the face”

“And that my friend is a rare occurrence for Leah Williamson” you smirked before hiding behind Amanda. Since you were on the ground, Leah easily and quickly threw snow at your whole body.

“Your disgusting tiny!” She yelled as you got up and tackled her into the snow, both of your stomachs hurting from laughing.

—————

Later you were snuggled into Lia’s lap on one of the large campfire chairs. A blanket covering the two of you. All of you girls were working up around it while Kim, Jen and Katie attempted to get the pizza fire maker working.

“What are we doing tomorrow tour guide” you said to the girl with her arms around you.

Everyone all turned their heads, curious for the girl to tell what she had planned. “Well we should all go into town tomorrow morning and get drinks and food there for breakfast. I could see the lights from my bedroom so it shouldn’t be a long walk” You all nodded smiling, “then definitely snow boarding for sure!”

“Yay!” You said in excitement. You felt a buzz in your jacket pocket, you pulled it out and opened your phone.

Mum

Hey girl. Hope your having the best time there! So so happy for you, give me a call when you can chick. Mama loves you.

Your eyes stung looking at your phone, You always got emotional when you received texts like this from your family. Managing to get out of Lia’s arms you smiled at her “just got to call my mum”. Steph brushed her hand against your back in comfort as you walked inside the house.

You were on the call for a good 30 minutes, it made you start to tear up. You didn’t get to see her for the last camp in Australia, so it had been months. You talked to all your older siblings as well as your dad on the FaceTime call. You showed them the house and view briefly. When the call ended you went into the bathroom to check your face didn’t look too sad and teary. When it was all clear, you turned off the light and walked out with a sigh. You went back out. There was now an open seat just next to Beth and Steph.

“You good tiny?” Beth nudged you with a warm smile.

“Yep” you smile back at the older girl. Caitlin and Steph both shared looks, with Caitlin then settling her eyes on your face which staring at the ground. They knew how you got homesick whenever you called your parents.

“Pizza time!” Jen yelled loud, filled with pride after finally getting the pizza oven to work.

———————

After a very filling dinner made by Jen, Kim and Katie. You all headed back inside and were just chatting in the living room, nearly all of them having a glass of wine. You tried to get a glass, as Vic went to pour you one Kim quickly stopped her at the stupid idea. Everyone was starting to get tired and you announced you would head up to bed first.

“Night” Lia and Leah softly said hugging you as you were sitting in the middle of them.

You walked up the halls, as your’s and Steph’s room was on the bottom floor, when you reached the room you quickly opened the door and fell on your bed. You put your face in your hands, your heart tonight was slightly sinking at the though of missing your family in Australia. You told yourself you wouldn’t let stars fall. You were on one of the best trips of your life with your team. So you took a large breath before getting up to shower the smell of smoke off your body. You heard the sound of laughter get loud for a moment as you were in your bed. Signaling someone was opening up the door, the person shut it before you shot up to see who it was. Honestly scared for a moment since it was a huge house in the mountains.

You expected Steph, but not Caitlin trailing behind. “Gosh you scared me” you said softly making the other girls smile.

“How are you going puddin” Caitlin said sitting next to you on the bed.

“Alright why?”

“You sure?”

“Well I was feeling a bit homesick before, like missing mum and stuff. But its all good” you said looking at the sheets, slightly fidgeting with them.

“You don’t have to, But we really want you to talk to us when you feel like that. You know we are here for you” Steph said softly. You swore she had said those words 30 times since you moved alone to London to join Arsenal. You still felt insane comfort when around the two girls.

“I won’t lie. You two make it easier. It just reminds me of home with you two.” You said to the two of your Aussie teammates, “Kyra…not so much” you giggled.

“Yeah no not her” Caitlin laughed

“She’s alright. Sorry for always being so annoying with her, and like Caitlin I actually feel terrible about your fridge like so so bad. You need to send me your transfer details so I can give you the money to fix it-“

“Absolute nonsense. No need. It wasn’t even you it was kyra” Caitlin said softly

“Still”

“And you’re not annoying. You are one of the sweetest people I know I won’t lie to you. Sure you anf Kyra get a bit too pipped up sometimes but we still love you” Steph said

“Yeah like little shits!” Caitlin exclaimed adding to her words, Steph nudging her with a giggle from both of you.

“Thanks mum and dad” you laughed as you hugged them. “Ok I’m gonna get ready for bed too now.” Steph said getting up.

“More wine for me!” Caitlin said before skipping off to the living room.

———————

#woso #arsenal women #caitlin foord #matildas #katie mccabe #arsenal #leah williamson #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #Arsenal x teen #x teen!reader #woso x teen reader #woso x reader #lia walti #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community

[mclennonlgbt]

(JUST LIKE) STARTING OVER WAS DEFINITELY FOR PAUL – a compilation

A meaningful wordplay As you know, John attached great importance to the lyrics of his songs. He liked to smuggle in word games and hidden meanings. Let's look at a fragment of the lyrics of "(Just Like) Starting Over". It's time to spread our wings and fly Wings was Paul's band in the 1970s.

Don't let another day go by

"Another Day" is a song by Paul and Linda that was released as the A-side of a non-album single in February 1971. It was Paul's debut single, following the Beatles break-up in 1970. (Sidenote: giving credits to both himself and Linda, Paul broke up the Lennon-McCartney partnership, angering Allen Klein).

my love

"My Love" is a 1973 song by Wings. The single was viewed as Wings' first significant success.

2. The demos

In the first demo, John uses the word "walrus":

Everyday we used to make it love so why can’t we be making love – it’s easy. The time has come, the walrus said, for you and me to stay in bed again, it’ll be just like starting over

The walrus is a famous motif from Beatles songs. In the song "I Am The Walrus" (1967) John declares that he is the titular walrus, a year later in "Glass Onion" he stated: „And here’s another clue to you all – the walrus was Paul”. In "God" (1970) John sings: "I was the walrus." In an interview from 1969 or 1970, George jokes: „And if you are listening, I am the walrus too”. Regardless of which Beatles was the walrus, John is for sure giving us an interesting clue here.

As for „in bed”:

Here's another fascinating demo... This requires no comment. It's just that John suddenly referred to "Why Don't We Do it In the Road", a song by Paul from the Beatles era.

EDIT:

The whole fragment is:

Just take your clothes off honey, and stick your nose in money.. why don’t we… do it in the road?! (Laughs) A little hotel where we used to screw A little place down in Montauk Just you, me, the cook and the servants too

As @i-am-the-oyster pointed out (the screen is theirs) - it's a 17 minute drive from Paul's house in the Hamptons to Montauk Motel.

3. John explaining who the song is for

„I’m not aiming, I am not aiming at 16 year olds. If they can dig it, please dig it. But when I was singing and writing this and working with her, I was visualizing all the people of my age group from the 60s. Being in their 30s and 40s now, just like me, and having wives and children and having gone through everything together, I am singing to them! I hope the young kids like it as well, but I’m really talking to the people that grew up with me and saying: „Here I am now, how are you? How’s your relationship going? Did you get through it all? Wasn’t the 70s a drag? You know, here we are, let’s try and make the 80s good, you know, because it’s still up to us to make what we can of it. It’s not out of our control”. I still believe in love, peace. I still believe in positive thinking when I can do it. I’m not always positive but when I am, I try and project it”.

Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqxPx2Tvf6A

Let’s point out that the song which convinced John to come out of retirement was „Coming up” by Paul. You want a love to last forever One that will never fade away I want to help you with your problem Stick around, I say

(…)

You want some peace and understanding So everybody can be free I know that we can get together We can make it, stick with me

BONUS (this is not evidence or premise, but maybe Paul understood that the song was addressed to him): Paul's reaction to the song after John's death.

„…Time passed. Paul locked the door of his home studio and played (Just Like) Starting Over, the first single from Double Fantasy. Top volume. For days”.

- Christopher Sandford, „McCartney”

EDIT:

(it's also @i-am-the-oyster's reveal): One Sweet Dream podcast did an interview where May Pang agreed with the host (JL)SO was for Paul and emphasised that it wasn't about Yoko -- it's a patrons-only episode so I can't link it, but it's April 2023, around the 1h29 mark).

#mclennon #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon tinted song analysis

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗲 | tom (make up) x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | you and tom have been two peas in a pod for your entire lives: tommy and birdie, partners in crime. you only fell in love with him a few years ago, though. maybe he'll notice sometime before you die of old age... but probably not.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 15.8k (oops)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only, dry humping, handjob, unprotected sex/loss of virginity, fingering, oral f receiving), alcohol consumption and tobacco use, best friends to lovers, angst, pining, fluff, tom and reader lacking braincells, extreme cornish, protectiveness/jealousy, There Was Only One Bed, I can't stress enough how fucking stupid these two are, truly no braincells detected in this entire fic

(title's after the song by the greeting committee <3 will always be the song that makes me think of tom the most)

YOU DON'T NEED TO SEE THE MOVIE TO READ THIS! plot of the film is totally discarded lmaooo

author's note part 2: there's a moment where the reader mentions that sometimes people think her and tom are siblings, she does not necessarily mean that they look alike! she means that they ACT like siblings and could be related through adoption or marriage-- her appearance isn't described and it's left open-ended for anyone to insert themselves ❤️

before we get started, I'm including a convenient cornish dictionary for you all to use if you're not already familiar with the dialect! other terms might pop up but they'll be explained in the text

teazy - acting grumpy or throwing a tantrum; something you might say to a kid having a fit or an adult who is being childishly negative

tuss - insult referencing male genitals; similar to 'knob' or 'dick' in UK and US english

my 'ansum - common, platonic greeting for men ("my handsome")

my bird - common, platonic greeting for women

rich - lovely, endearing, or beautiful

diddy? - a phrase used to mean 'is that true?' or 'really?'; diddah? and issuh? mean the same thing

wasson? - a greeting; short for "what's going on?"

jumping - very angry

hanging - terrible, gross

scat - (NOT WHAT YOU'RE THINKING lol) to push or fight someone

geek - a quick look; you can 'take a geek' at something

“Leave off, m'fine." Tom crinkled up his nose as he tried to brush your hands away, but you fought to keep dabbing the cuts on his face with the washcloth.

"Fine?  You look like you lost a fight," you frowned.

"Well, we won the match, so," he smiled, but winced when you went back to the cut just above his eyebrow.  “Fuck off, that hurts!”

“Couldn’t hurt as much as it did when you got it,” you insisted.  “C’mon, it’ll scar if you don’t let me clean it up right.”

“So?  I thought the lasses liked scars,” he grinned.  “Makes me look tough.”

“Makes you look like you got your arse handed to you.”

Tom really wasn’t built for rugby.  Though he certainly wasn’t in bad shape, he was the slimmest of all the guys he played with; he was fast, he had that going for him, but the poor kid got pummelled every time he played.

“Wish you wouldn’t go out there,” you mumbled, one of those rare times that you admitted how much you hated seeing him get hurt.

“Wish you wouldn’t worry about me when I can take care’a meself,” he replied.

And that was how it had always been— Tom was just reckless like that, and you had to try to reign him in as best you could.  You could remember so many nights spent this way, you trying to scold him enough that he might be a little more careful; but considering you’d been doing this since you were just little kids, you eventually gave up on trying to stop him and just decided to be there when he needed a little comfort.

You might’ve always been Tom’s greatest comfort.  So many things in life are uncertain, temporary, fleeting.  Not you; you’d always been there, as long as he could remember— even longer, really.  And not just because he had a shit memory from all those rugby concussions.  

“Aren’t you worried you’ll look beat up in all our holiday photos?” you asked him, speaking quietly since you were so close to his face to treat his injuries.

“Why’d that bother me?” he shrugged.  “You think I’m gonna be lookin’ at me own stupid mug in photos?”

“Don’t say that,” you shoved him on the shoulders as he laughed, leaning back into the couch.  “You’ve got a nice mug, if you didn’t get it all mucked up.”

“You think m’pretty then?” he cooed sarcastically, putting his hand under his chin and batting his eyelashes; you giggled and shoved him harder, this time knocking you both back until he was laying on the couch and you were on top of him.

“Yeah, pretty daft,” you replied, and he snorted.

“Fuck off,” he rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around your back.

“Lemme go, need to get a bandage for your face,” you explained as you squirmed.

“Nuh uh,” he denied your request, “not letting you up— sorry, birdie.”

“Tommy!” you whined through a laugh, struggling harder against him, but he just held you tighter and grinned down at you.  Giving up, you made a pouty face and rested your chin on his chest.  He mimicked your expression, mocking you until you frowned for real and gave up, turning your face again to lay your cheek down on his shirt.

He gave you a kiss on top of your head, and you let your eyes fall shut.

“Maybe just a little rest,” you decided, your voice already slurring— you were more tired than you thought.

“Mhm,” he agreed, brushing his fingers over your hair.  “Just a little, huh?”

You nodded groggily.  

“Alright— sleep tight, birdie…”

You were only tired because you’d been up way too late, packing for your trip to St. Ives with your and Tom’s families.  Joint vacations were nothing new to the two of you— actually, his parents and yours had been taking trips together since before the two of you were born.  There were pictures of you and Tommy, chubby little babies in your mums’ arms, riding on the London Eye; you’d watched a home video a few times where you were playing in the sand together at a beach in Valencia.  You weren’t sure why they felt the need to fly all the way to Spain for beaches when there were plenty here in Cornwall… but, case in point, this trip was going to be a much more relaxed (and budget-conscious) one: a roadtrip across the county, a couple rooms at a beach-side inn, and some much needed time in the sun for the next week.  Tom promised to teach you how to surf, though you weren’t sure you’d be able to figure it out anyways— but you looked forward to trying.  Really, you looked forward to Tom’s hands on your waist as he tried to help you find your balance.

Truth be told, despite being secretly in love with him since you were fourteen, you never really expected anything to happen with Tommy.  You were like brother and sister— even his parents treated you like a daughter, and vice versa— and you’d always been so close.  There’s always that fear of confessing to someone you’re close with and ruining the friendship, but this was even worse than that.  If you lost Tom, you’d lose everything.

So, it wasn’t sad— there wasn’t a lot of pining anymore, not many nights spent gushing into your diary about it and then crying yourself to sleep because he got a new girlfriend or something.  It was peaceful now, the one-sidedness of it.  You loved him, he didn’t notice, everything went on as usual and that was it.  You kept dating other guys, though Tom never liked any of them, and he dated other girls that you pretended to get along with until they split after a couple weeks.

In fact, dating was the topic of the hour as you and Tom sat in the back of his dad’s suburban, trying to entertain yourselves on the long drive to the beach resort you’d be staying at.

“That girl Dani,” you remembered, focusing most of your attention on a sudoku from the book you’d brought for the trip.  “She was fit— why’d you break up again?”

“Too clingy,” Tommy shrugged, not looking back at you; he was toying with the friendship bracelet around his wrist, the one you’d made for him at summer camp when you were eleven with blue and yellow and black chevrons.  Since you gave it to him, you’d never seen him without it, which is why the colours were all faded and dirty now, and why you were glad you made it adjustable all those years ago… he certainly outgrew the original size by now.

“I thought that was Claire,” you recalled.

“Oh, her too,” he nodded.

“This seems to be a problem for you,” you noticed, “clingy girls.  What does that even mean?”

“Means they get, like, possessive,” he clarified, holding his hands up almost like a motion of choking someone.  “Wanna know what you’re doing all the time, want a text every half hour— it’s too much.”

“That just means they like you, Tommy,” you rolled your eyes.  “You shouldn’t dump girls over that.”

“They usually dump me,” he corrected.

“What?!” you squeaked, before you cleared your throat when you noticed what your utter disbelief might imply.

“Guess they just get, I dunno, jealous?” he explained, crinkling his nose as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Jealous?” you repeated, looking away from the page in front of you for the first time.  The way he was looking at you— head tilted to the side, one eyebrow raised and mouth in a small frown— you realised what he meant.  “Of me?”

“Well, yeah,” he mumbled, “I mean, we spend so much time together.”

“But we’re just friends,” you noticed.

“That’s what I try to tell them!” he insisted.  “I mean, I say that you’re my best mate and all but I don’t even think of you like that— c’mon, I’d never…”

You looked back at the half-solved sudoku, letting out a sigh that you hoped you could pull off as frustration with the number grid before you.

“Guess they don’t believe me,” he concluded, “or they don’t care.”

“They must think it’s bound to happen one day,” you posited.  “That we’ll get together, I mean.”

“Yeah— but don’t you think if it was gonna happen, it would’ve happened already?” he pointed out.

You bit your lip.  “Yeah,” you agreed curtly.

"Hey— whatever happened to that lad with the crooked teeth you liked so much?" Tommy asked.

"You'll have to be more specific," you huffed, keeping your eyes trained on your puzzle.

"He had specs and a freckle right on the end of his nose," Tommy continued.

"Oh yeah!  Frank," you reminded him of the boy's name.  "What, did you actually approve of him or something?"

"Course not," Tommy scoffed.  "Jus' wondering, 'cause you used to go on about him all the time— 'bout how he was so wonderful and all." Tommy rolled his eyes, just to make sure it was perfectly clear that he didn't approve.

"Erm, well," you stalled, "yeah, haven't talked to him in a while."

Tommy wouldn't buy an excuse like that from you, he knew you far too well.  Leaning in, he titled his head to try to get a view of your face.  "Did something happen with him?" he pressed, and you swallowed.

"Yeah, I mean— nothing really," you shrugged, "he just got upset that I didn't wanna take things too fast, I guess.  Called me a slag and threw my phone— didn't crack, though, got lucky there—"

"Diddy?" Tommy spat, his anger obvious on his face.  He sat back up when you nodded, taking in a deep breath through his nose.  "Shoulda told me, would've scat 'im down and beat his face in.  Can't be talking to my birdie like that."

Your heart skipped a beat.  His birdie.  

"And throwin' your phone, too?  Bleddy tuss," Tommy sneered, shaking his head as he looked out the window, like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you get especially Cornish when you're angry?" you giggled.

"Only twice a day, birdie," Tom laughed.  

Did anyone ever tell you that it turns me on?

“We’re here!” your mum announced, and you looked up to see that the car was turning in to a roundabout driveway.  Tom excitedly leaned against his window, looking up at the hotel.  “Wow,” he breathed.  “Look!”

He guided you to lean in right up against him, pressing your cheek to the glass so you could see the tall building.  It wasn’t a skyscraper or anything— this wasn’t that kind of place— but it was at least ten stories, with white bricks on the outside and seafoam-green shutters on each window.

With the car parked, Tom and the dads were going through the boot while his mom ran to use the loo and you and your mom checked in.

You weren’t really paying attention, honestly, while your mom gave the woman at the front desk a credit card for incidentals and all that.  The interaction only piqued your interest when you heard her confirm— “three rooms, then?”

“Yep,” your mum agreed.

“Three?” you repeated, looking up at her.

“Yeah— your dad and I, Gary and Marie, and then another room for you and Tom.”

You cleared your room.  “Tom and I get our own room?”

“You think us old geezers wanna be kept up all night by your giggling?” she snorted.  “Figured you two could entertain yourselves just fine, give the grown-ups some space.”

Before you could decide how to react to that, the opening of the front doors got everyone’s attention.  Tom looked ridiculous trying to carry as many bags as he could— all of yours, plus his and his mom’s— and you snorted as you watched him waddle into the lobby with all of them.

“What floor are we on?” he asked, the strain in his voice apparent and hilarious.

“Ten,” you informed him, and he groaned.

“Kidding!  Three,” you chuckled, “and there’s a lift.”

“Aw, Jesus,” Tom grumbled as he walked past you, struggling under the weight of the bags.  “You’re tryin’ to kill me, birdie.”

“I didn’t tell you to carry all those,” you rolled your eyes, looking at the concierge again as Tom turned the corner to find the lift.

“Is that your boyfriend?” she asked, continuing before you could answer.  “You two are adorable.”

“O-oh, er— no, actually,” you stammered, “just a friend.”

“Oh!” she mumbled.  “I see, my apologies.”

You looked down at your phone for just a second, only to hear your mom make a strange noise— a little giggle, and you saw her and the woman at the desk looking at each other.  “What?” you asked your mum.

“Nothing, dear,” she dismissed.

“What?!” you hissed, groaning when she hid a cheeky smile but said nothing.  “You’re so weird sometimes, mum…”

“Anyhoo,” the concierge mumbled, “you’re all ready to go!  Three king bed rooms, third floor, ocean view—”

“Wait, wait,” you interrupted, “all the rooms have a king bed?”  She nodded.  “Just a king bed?”

“Well… there’s a couch,” she offered.

You deflated slightly.  “That might be a little strange.”

“Oh,” she hummed, “well, I could change your room if you’d like.  But they won’t be connected anymore…”

“That’s fine,” you shook your head.

“Okay, there’s a room with two twins across the hall,” she explained, reading from her computer screen.

Ugh, a twin was gonna be uncomfortable, but so would just one bed.  “That’s fine, thank you.”

She clicked around on her keyboard for a bit, and right as she looked up at you again, Tom appeared from around the corner again.  “All done,” she announced, “I’ve changed your room for you!”

“You what?” Tom choked.

“She’s just changed our room for us,” you explained to him.

“Ah god,” he panted, laying his head against the wall while he caught his breath.  “Birdie, I just put all the bags away…”

You sighed, and the woman piped up again.  “I could still change it back for you, if the bags are too much trouble.”

“Please,” Tom breathed, and she nodded and started up with the keyboard again.  Rolling your eyes, you brushed past Tom flippantly.

“I’m gonna change,” you announced.

“Goin’ up to the room?” he asked.

“No, I was going to strip in the hallway and hope nobody walked through,” you replied snarkily.

“I was just gonna give you the key, birdie,” he smirked, pulling the plastic card out of his pocket.  You chewed your lip, regretting being so rude.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking it from him and moving along to the lift.

~

You’d only brought one swimsuit, the new one you’d bought just for this.  Maybe you’d had this crazy idea somewhere in the back of your mind that if you wore a tight little bikini, you’d finally get Tom’s attention and he’d stop seeing you just as the little girl he’d grown up with.  If you’d been a little less emotional and a touch more logical, you would’ve checked the weather first.

Yes, it was a beach, but it was still an English beach… the sky was grey and cloudy, and without sunlight, the ocean breeze was less refreshing and more chilly.  Very chilly, in fact, when you had hardly anything on like this.  You were trying so hard to act natural, to lay there on that chair on the beach and look as gorgeous as possible for whenever Tom came out, but it was so cold… every few seconds you were tensing up your jaw to try to fight off a shiver.

He came down a couple minutes later, wearing his swim trunks, but since he was apparently smarter than you, he was also wearing a half-zip jumper and a t-shirt underneath.  You pretended not to see him coming and laid still, only reacting to his presence with a polite wave when he was too close to ignore.

“Not gonna get much of a tan in this weather,” he noticed with a laugh as he sat next to you.

“I’m not tanning, I’m… relaxing,” you explained.

“Want me jumper, birdie?” he offered.  “You look freezing.”

“I-I’m fine,” you insisted, but your teeth chattered.  Next thing you knew, he was peeling it off over his head anyways— his shirt stuck to it and started to lift, too, exposing his stomach.  He managed to get the jumper off, though, and pulled it down over your face as you laughed and resigned yourself to your fate.  “Tommy, stop it,” you whined, batting his arms away so you could put the garment on yourself— he’d been trying to force it on you and accidentally trapped your face in one of the sleeves.

When you finally navigated your limbs through the borrowed sweater, popping your face out and breathing in a deep breath of fresh air after being stuck inside the cotton for a moment, you saw him looking at you… different.  Just a little different, but different nonetheless.  You wrinkled your eyebrows together at him, and he shook his head with a little laugh, and it was all back to normal again.  “Should keep you warm,” he mumbled, turning back to the view of the ocean and bringing his feet up onto the chair.

“Thanks,” you nodded, watching him lift his hands up behind his head and sigh.

For a while, you two laid there in silence, the sound of the ocean waves and seabirds like a quiet, slow song.  If you weren't thinking constantly about whether or not Tom was looking at you, you might've been able to relax enough to fall asleep.  Apparently Tom wasn't all in his head because he dozed off within a couple minutes, and after that, you decided to get up and explore the beach a bit.  There were little shops dotted here and there, a gelato stand, a cosy open-air pub playing music over their speakers.

You stopped to watch some boys playing volleyball on the beach, and one of them seemed to notice you staring— and he smiled at you, just before he served; you had to be careful not to make yourself look stupid by suddenly smiling down at the sand and toying with your hair, but you desperately wanted to.  He was cute, and tall and, you know, shirtless.  They all were, but he probably looked the best that way of any of them.

He ended the round with a spike right beside the net, and his side of the court cheered while the others groaned and complained to each other.  You clapped for them, and the boy looked at you again; he said something to his friends, and with the ball still under his arm, he jogged over toward you.

"Hey," he greeted with a sideways, pearly-white smile.

"Hi," you returned.  

"Did you like watching us play?" he asked, glancing back at the net for a second.

"Yeah, you're really good," you nodded.  "Are you a real team or somethin'?"

"No, god no," he laughed, "we just play for fun.  Not many sandy beaches to play at in London."

"Oh, you're visiting from London?  What part?"

"Southeast," he replied.

You nodded.  "Oh…"

There wasn't much you could say to that because you didn't know anything about London; he chuckled, apparently realising just that.  "I guess you're from around here?"

"Sort of— an hour down the way but, yes, I'm from Cornwall," you agreed.

“You’ve got an interesting accent,” he noticed with a smirk.  “It’s cute, actually.”

“Oh, y’think?” you smiled shyly.  “Always heard growing up that a Cornish accent made me sound like a dumb farmer or somethin’.”

“It works on you, though,” he decided.

"Oi!  Come back and serve!" one of the boys by the net called, and your new friend turned his head around.

"Go on without me," he told them, tossing the ball over.  "I'm talking to, er…"

He looked back at you, and you stammered out your name; he repeated it back to you with a smile.

"I'm Devon," he told you.

"Well, hi, Devon," you smiled.

Aaaaand, just in time, you heard Tom’s voice calling after you: “Birdie!” he shouted from down the beach, and you turned and sighed as you waved back.  

In a moment, Tom was beside you, slipping his arm around your shoulders.

"Where'd you run off to, my lover?" Tommy asked with a tilted smile, but he didn't give you a chance to answer before he looked over at the other young man and back at you.  "Who's the emmet?"

"My name's Devon, not Emmett," the Londoner corrected, and you hoped your polite laugh would break the tension.

"No, Devon, 'emmet' is Cornish," you explained.  "It's what we call tourists."

Except, ‘incomer’ is what you call tourists.  Emmet is what you call annoying tourists.  And you knew Tom was annoyed by him because he was hitting on you.

"This your girl, then?" Devon asked Tom… a little straightforward, but that's just how Londoners are, maybe?

"What's it to you?" Tom wondered.

"Er—" you interjected immediately, "no, actually, Tom's just a friend," you coughed, knowing that even though it was a way to greet a good friend around here, Tom surely intended for it to be misinterpreted.

"Bloody hell.  Can't tell what you people are saying," Devon grumbled, and you spoke up before Tom surely asked what 'you people' was supposed to mean.

"Anyways, point is— Tom and I are good friends, known each other since we were kids," you continued.

"Really?" Devon pressed.

“Yep," Tom replied with a beaming smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him, "she’s been me best mate since we were wee babes,” he beamed.  

“A bird’s your best mate?” Devon scoffed.  “Sure you’re not bent?”

“I’m bent?  You’re the one spendin’ all your time with a bunch of blokes with no shirts on, mate,” Tom defended.

Devon stepped forward and you had to jut yourself in between them to keep it from getting too heated.  “Okay, lads, let’s settle down, then—”

“Be careful,” Tom warned Devon, and you jabbed him with your elbow as punishment.

“I said to stop it, alright?” you hissed at Tom.  “Doesn’t matter, Tommy.”

“Yeah, Tommy,” Devon snickered, and you literally had to lean all your weight onto Tommy to keep him from trying to dive right over you to pummell the bellend.

"Let's go," you informed Tommy as you scoffed at Devon.  Wrapping a hand around Tom's waist, you guided him to walk with you back down the beach, away from the possibility of a fight.

Tommy could find a fight anywhere— even on the beach on holiday.  It was a real talent of his.

"You're horrible!" you whined as you punched Tom on his side.

"What did I do now?" he groaned.

"You scared that boy off, he was cute and he was flirting with me."

"Exactly!" Tommy emphasised, and you rolled your eyes.  "He turned out to be a wanker, anyhow, you heard him making fun of our accent, didn't you?"

"I think he was just making fun of your accent," you frowned.

"We've got the same one," Tom noticed.

"Well— just stop doing that!  You always do that."

"Sorry, birdie,” he shrugged, not seeming especially sorry.

You sighed and decided to let it go, because it wasn’t worth the argument.  “What’s next, then?  Think I’ve had enough of the beach.”

“Pub?” he suggested, and you laughed.

“Hardly late enough for that, don’t you think?” you snorted.

“Okay, dinner first, then pub,” he offered instead.

“That’s better.”

~

There were a few pubs along your walk back from dinner, but only one that had the rugby match on; so, of course, that was the one Tom picked.  It was almost entirely empty when you came inside, and since the match had gone to commercial break, Tom decided now was the best time to run to the loo.

“Order me something?” he requested.  “Whatever you’re getting.”

You nodded and he dashed off down a hallway.  Sitting at the bar, currently unattended with no other patrons but yourself, you looked up at the telly on the wall and caught a couple seconds of a car commercial.

“Can I get you anything?” 

The voice made you turn your head away from the telly, and you were surprised to find a boy your age on the other side of the bar.

“Oh, erm,” you choked, “just something on tap?  M’not picky.”

“There’s a stout we brew right here in the neighbourhood,” he suggested, “you might like it.”

“Sure,” you shrugged, “and one for my friend.”

“Great,” he smiled, bending down below the bar and reappearing with two pint glasses in hand.  You watched him as he tilted the glasses and filled them from the tape, admiring his tan skin and longer hair— he had that surfer look about him, in a Cornwall sort of way.

“Aren’t you a little young to be tending bar?” you noticed.

He laughed, revealing some dimples in the process.  “And you’re one to talk?” he shot back.

“I’m old enough to be served, aren’t I?” you challenged.

“Well actually, I was gonna ask for your ID,” he admitted, “but, you’re cute, so I decided to let it slide.”

You looked down as he set your drink on the bar for you.  “Thanks,” you hummed.  You tried it, giving him a nod of approval when the taste hit your tongue— it was pretty mild, and sort of grapefruit-y somehow.

“In town for holiday?” he assumed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, and he clicked his tongue.

“Too bad,” he shook his head.  “When are you going back home?”

“Thursday.”

“And where’s home?” he asked.  “You sound local.”

“Yeah, I am,” you agreed, “about an hour north.”

“Liskeard?” he guessed, and you shook your head.  “Launceston?”

“Closer,” you smiled.

“Bradworthy?”

“Oh, too far…”

“Holsworthy,” he grinned.

“Got it,” you nodded.

“Seems like it’d be easier to just drive up to Westward Ho! wouldn’t it?” he tilted his head.

“I try not to go anywhere that has an exclamation mark in the name,” you explained, and he chuckled a little.  

“I guess that’s fair,” he shrugged, “and it’s a good thing you came here anyways.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because now I get to look at you,” he cooed.

You took a sip of the beer to hide your warming face.  When you brought the glass back down, he laughed at you softly.

“Got some foam on your nose, my bird,” he warned you, reaching forward to wipe it off with his thumb.

“Oh, th-thanks,” you stammered, watching him put his thumb to his mouth and suck that bit of foam off while he kept looking at you.  What a flirt!  Do it again.

Tom came back from the washroom and sat on the stool next to yours, thanking you for ordering his beer for him before he took a large drink of it.

"O-oh," the bartender choked, and you knew that look— the ‘shit, you've got a boyfriend’ look.  

You sighed.  "Hey, um— this is my friend, Tom," you explained.

"Wasson?" Tom greeted him, nodding his head quickly in acknowledgement.

"Not much, mate," he replied, "Cade.”

“Tom,” he answered back as if he didn’t already know that, not going so far as to shake hands since Tom was holding his glass and Cade was holding a rag to wipe down the bar.

“She was just telling me you're only here for a spell,” Cade recalled, “which is a proper shame.”  

You smiled shyly.  “Oh, yeah, well, I wish our holiday could be longer, too.”

“Always the prettiest maids just here on holiday,” Cade nodded, looking at Tom.  “You know how it is, don’t you?  You’re from a holiday town, too, I heard.”

Not quite as popular as your current location, but yes, vacationers would occasionally appear in town.  You’d never noticed this ‘girls visiting from up-country are prettier’ principle, but your eyes turned to Tom expectantly.  “Uh, yeah,” Tommy nodded.  “Yeah, I know how it is.  And half of them have boyfriends back home.”

It made your heart sink a bit— what you would give to have one of those.  Or to have Tommy say no, the prettiest bird’s right here with me now.  Or both.

“But that doesn’t stop all of them,” he added with a laugh, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re awful, Tommy,” you shoved him lightly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, licking his bottom lip.

Cade gestured at Tom’s rugby union shirt— “You play?” he asked.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Tom nodded, “you?”

“I just watch,” he shrugged, pointing at the telly in the corner.  “Cooped up in this pub all the time, anyway.”

“That’s no excuse,” Tom chided, “gotta get out there and get roughed up!”

“That’s what surfing’s for,” Cade smirked.

“Okay, now I’m definitely not going,” you shook your head.  “I don’t wanna get roughed up by the ocean!”

“I said I would teach her,” Tom informed Cade, “now look what you’ve done.”

“Sorry,” Cade laughed, “you’ll be fine, and you’ve come at just the right time of year for it.”

“That’s what I said!” Tom agreed.

Oh god, were they actually getting on alright?  Would Tom give his approval, finally?  

You sipped your stout and let them go on about rugby and football teams for a while, letting yourself get your hopes up that Tom would actually like a guy who liked you— and sure, he was a barkeep in your holiday spot, not exactly the foundation for a serious relationship, but it would be nice to have a little fling without worrying that Tom would end up beating him up.

Tom was the one who made fun of you sometimes for being a virgin, anyway.  He never meant it— actually, when he occasionally took the time to be serious, he assured you better than anyone else that it was perfectly normal and fine to still be one.  But still, you weren’t exactly trying to hang onto it much longer.  Tom told you to wait for the right person; but you’d been waiting for him for way too long.

Watching the match together, you and Tom put down a few pints and laughed at some stupid old inside jokes— Cade tended to stick around, chatting with you both, when there weren’t other customers to serve.  You caught him glancing at you a few times, and you liked how you felt when he looked at you like that— desirable, maybe even grown up.  You and Tom had been friends since you were little, after all, and since he treated you the exact same way he always had, sometimes you still felt little around him.  But you weren’t.  It was good to remember that.

The match ended— Cornwall won, thank god, or you’d be babying Tom all night after he drowned his sorrows in something stronger than the local stout.  He still drank a little too much to celebrate, but less too much.

Enough that he had to go to the loo again, though, at which point Cade was suddenly right by you again.  “Your friend’s funny,” he smiled.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “he’s not always that loud, but, yeah, he’s never been very subtle.”

“And he’s just a friend?” 

You rolled your eyes.  “Yes,” you insisted, and you focused your tone on your annoyance and not your disappointment.

“Just checking!” Cade returned defensively.  “How long have you known him?” 

“My whole life,” you sighed.  “Can’t remember a time without him.  He’s just… always been there.”

Cade nodded.  “That’s nice, wish I had a friend like that.  People come and go a lot in a place like this.”

“I bet,” you offered sympathetically.  “And your girlfriend?  Does she come and go, or stick around?”

“What?  I don’t have a girlfriend,” he frowned.

“Just checking,” you winked.

“Why, you think I should get one?” he raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged.  “If you can find one…”

His eyes dragged over you, his smile fading slightly; you pretended not to be totally overwhelmed by it all.

“Cade!” a voice shouted from the back, and an older woman poked her head out of the kitchen as Cade turned his head.  “Come back here an’ clean up!”

“I will, mum!” he called back, before returning his attention to you.  “Listen, I’d better get back to work— but you could come by tomorrow?  If you wanted.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I think I’ll find the time.”

“Tom can come too, of course,” he added, leaning closer to you on the bar, “but… I’d rather have some time alone with you, if that’s alright.”

Reaching up to scratch your shoulder, you bit your lip to hide a smile.  “Okay, yeah—” you set your hands back down on the bar when you saw the way he was looking at you, “yeah, I’d like that, too.  I’m sure Tommy can find some way to entertain himself for an hour.”

Cade’s hand landed on yours suddenly, giving it a quick squeeze while he winked at you.  And then he threw the rag over his shoulder and disappeared into the back.  You pursed your lips and exhaled through them; it had been a while since you had butterflies like that.  

Tom came back around the corner, leaning beside you on the wooden bar, and you giggled when you saw how red his nose had gotten from the booze.  “Tommy, you look like you’ve stuck your face in blusher,” you noticed.

“Aw, really?” he scrunched up his nose, wiping it with his hand.

“You can’t wipe it off!” you laughed harder.  “Cade’s gone to the back to work— wanna go on a walk, take a geek at the rest of the neighbourhood?”

“Sure,” he agreed, letting you take his hand and pull him along with you out the door and around the pavement.  You walked in silence for a few moments, glancing at him once, before you just had to bring it up.

“So, Cade was nice…” you trailed off.  You looked at Tom expectantly, wearing a hopeful smile, but you hadn't even said anything yet before he expressed his dissent.

“No, no way,” he shook his head, ignoring your protests, “not good enough for you.”

“What?  Tommy, what’s wrong with him?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Tom repeated.  “Birdie, what’s right with him?”

“I thought you liked him!” you whined.  “He was so nice to you, and you talked rugby for ages!”

“Was looking at you funny,” he shuddered.

“Well, I’d hope so,” you rolled your eyes, “doesn’t that mean he’s interested?”

“That’s what you want, creepy guys drooling all over you?” Tom snorted.  “Come on, let’s go— I don’t want you seeing that sod again.”

You groaned, but let him drape his arm over your shoulders and guide you away.  “You shouldn’t be so protective, Tom… this is why everyone thinks you’re either my brother or my boyfriend.”

“If it keeps the boys away from you, I don’t care what they think,” he decided.  You rolled your eyes as he pulled your head down with his arm, enough that he could plant a kiss on top of your head.  “There, now they’ll think I’m your boyfriend, how about that?”

“You kiss me all the time,” you laughed.

“Eh?”

“On the head,” you clarified.  “You give me kisses on the head, doesn’t make you my boyfriend.”

“Guess not,” he agreed.  

Halfway along your walk, you passed a park which Tom decided would be the perfect place to share a cigarette— actually, he was just going to smoke it himself, but you made him share.

“Remember your sixth birthday party?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere, after a drag.  “You tripped and sprained your ankle running in the backyard that day, but you stopped crying when we gave you your presents.”

You laughed at the memory.  “God, I barely remember— but yeah.”

He handed the cigarette to you and you rested it between your lips.  “Do you remember what I got you?” he continued.

“A Barbie,” you recalled, “wasn’t it?  She was some little princess or something, can’t remember now.”

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Well, I want you to know that before I gave her to you, I took her out of the box and took her clothes off.”

“What?!” you snorted, making a cloud of smoke 

“I had to know!” he laughed.  “I put them back on and put her back in the box and everything first before I gave her to you.”

“Yeah, I think I would remember getting a naked Barbie, Tom,” you scoffed, and he carefully plucked the cigarette from your fingers and took it back.

“Right, well—” he stopped to inhale, and then let it out as he continued— “she had plastic panties on anyway.  Wasn’t worth it,” he shook his head.

You dropped your forehead into your palm.  “The fuck are you talking about?” you giggled. 

“Just that time of night where you feel like confessing things, I guess,” he shrugged.

“Any other secrets you’ve been keeping from me?” you pressed.  “Any other childhood toys of mine that you violated?”

“Took a geek up the skirt of a Cabbage Patch Kid or two,” he added, “but that’s about it.”

“Well, we all did that,” you rolled your eyes, and he grinned at you.

“Oh, I knew it,” he purred, “I think you were just as much of a pervert as I was.”

“Yeah?  But you’re still a pervert,” you accused.

“Maybe,” he relented, “but at least I’m not a prude.”

You looked away quickly.  “M’not a prude, Tommy…”

“I know, I know,” he soothed, handing you the last quarter of the cigarette, “you’re just picky.  And you should be.”

He suddenly laid his head down on your lap, making you tense up a little bit and wonder where you were supposed to put your hands.

“Nobody deserves you anyway,” he mumbled, closing his eyes as he adjusted himself to get comfortable on the bench.

“Well, that doesn’t really solve my problem, does it?” you said, speaking a little quieter.

“What’s the problem?” he wondered sleepily.

You sighed, holding the cigarette in your mouth as you reached down and carded your fingers through his hair.  He hummed and smiled a little.  “Nothing,” you dismissed, and he started to breathe slower and slower.  

You finished the cigarette over the course of the next however-long-it-had-been, absent-mindedly touching his head and playing with his hair, and only noticed that Tom had dozed off when you felt a wet patch under his mouth on your legs.

“Eww, Tommy!” you whined, shoving him off of you as he tried to wake up.  “When I said I wanted guys to drool over me, this is not what I meant.”

“Sorry, love,” he laughed, wiping the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Think that’s our cue to go back to the room and go to bed, eh?”

~

He didn’t say anything before he got in the shower, so you didn’t know what to expect when he got out: was he going to suddenly realise there was only one bed?  Had he already and just didn’t care?  Were you supposed to protest, or act like it was no big deal, or what?

When he emerged from the steamy bathroom in his pyjamas— aka, just his fuzzy plaid trousers, the ever-present friendship bracelet, and the chain on his neck— he found you standing in the middle of the room, staring at the singular bed, and gave you a confused look.

“I guess you saw when you brought our bags up,” you mumbled nervously.  

“Eh?”

“The bed.”  You motioned towards it, and he wrinkled his eyebrows together.

“What about it?” he shrugged.

“There’s only one of it!”

“Oh,” he nodded, “yeah, guess so.”

“So, we’ll have to share,” you helped him reach the obvious conclusion.

“Oh,” he said again, “you think it’ll be weird?”

“I mean, I figure,” you shrugged.

“I’ll take the couch,” he insisted.

“No, Tommy, let me,” you pleaded.

“You jokin’?  I’m supposed to let a maid sleep on the couch?”

“Didn’t realise you were such a gentleman,” you frowned, crossing your arms.

“Aren’t I?” he smirked.

You felt bad about it, but he was already putting a spare sheet down on the sofa while you were getting through your nighttime routine.  Leaning out of the bathroom, toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you caught a glimpse of him laying there on the couch with one arm up behind his head and the other holding the book he’d been reading as of late— one of those fantasy novels that were much too violent for you.  He looked past the top of it to smile at you, and you popped back in to wrap up.

You were just wearing a baggy old t-shirt that was just long enough on you to cover your red panties, which you felt mostly not-weird about wearing around Tom, though walking past him to get to bed made you shiver a little bit.

“G’night,” he offered.

“You too,” you replied quietly, and he reached up above his head to switch off the lamp.

Sure, it was you who had worried about the whole bed-sharing thing in the first place, but that was only because you were pre-emptively worrying that he would worry about it.  It was sort of a lose-lose: if he was against it, then you’d feel dejected, but if he was fine with it, it was another way for him to rub it in that you could hold him but never have him.

Still, now that you were alone in this big old bed, you couldn’t help but think that at least it was nice you could hold him… but he was all the way over there.

You chewed your lip, trying to stay quiet.  You made it about thirty seconds.  “Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Think you’ll fall asleep alright on that?” you wondered.

“Should be asleep in a couple minutes, once you’re quiet,” he replied.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you mumbled.  You made it a whole minute before you spoke again.  “Tommyyyyy,” you whined.

“What!” he snapped.

“I can’t sleep, I feel too bad!” you pouted.  “Just get in the bed?  We fall asleep together all the time!  What’s the difference?”

“Difference is it’s all night,” he explained, “haven’t done that since we were eight— and you kicked me in your sleep!”

“Are you seriously going to sleep on that musty old sofa, and leave me alone here in the king bed, just because you’re still mad at me for kicking you?”

“Not just that,” he mumbled, “you snore, too.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, “just come over, won’t you?  I’m cold anyways…”

He paused as he considered it.  “There’s room for me?”

“Tons,” you promised.

You heard him throw the blanket off of himself, and you smiled instantly.  In a moment, he was diving into the bed, and you laughed as the mattress creaked; he laid next to you on his back, and you reached an arm around his torso while setting your head on his shoulder.

He smelled so good after his shower, clean and woodsy from his deodorant, and his curls held their shape despite being wet still.

“Should’ve known you’d be like a barnacle soon as I got in here,” he chuckled.

“I said I was cold,” you reminded him, hugging his waist tighter.

“Night, birdie,” he whispered after he kissed the top of your head.  With him holding you, you were asleep in an instant.

It was one of those dreamless sleeps that went by quickly, like you’d only shut your eyes for a few minutes.  You would’ve thought it was still the middle of the night when you woke up, if it weren’t for the sun coming in through the open window.

Specifically, you woke up because of a long sigh right by your ear, making you blink your eyes open quickly and start to stretch your legs out under the sheet and blanket.  You were on your side, and Tommy was pressed right up on your back, his arm draped around your torso.

He sighed again, and you felt him shift around against you.  Most importantly, you felt something hard and hot on your lower back.   Eyes going wide, you jolted as you felt him rock his hips against you again.

"Tommy," you whispered, hoping to wake him up.

"Mm," he hummed, smiling against your neck, and you shuddered.

"Tommy!" you hissed, and he snorted as he woke up suddenly.

He pulled back and all but jumped away from you.  “Shit, I—” he mumbled, sitting up as the bed creaked; god, his face was so red, he looked adorably flustered and a bit terrified.  “I’m sorry, birdie, I swear I wasn’t trying to—”

“It’s okay, Tommy,” you insisted, sitting up with him, “it’s not a big deal.”

“What’d you say?  It’s not big?” he choked.

“No!  Tommy, it’s—” you stopped yourself from saying what you wanted to say then.  “I know that happens to guys in the mornings…”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously, “happens when we’re in bed with pretty girls, too…”

Before you could wonder if there was something to read into there, he spoke again.

“I’m fucked,” he groaned, running his hand down over his face, “what’s the time?”

“Ten ‘til 9,” you informed him following a glance at the clock on the nightstand.

“We’ve got that breakfast soon, we’re supposed to meet downstairs in five minutes,” he recalled.  “And I can’t get dressed ‘til he’s gone away.”

“How do you normally get rid of it?” you wondered, watching him look at you for a second before looking away again.

“Well…” he trailed off, clearing his throat.

“Well?” you pressed.

“Y-y’know,” he stammered, “it’s— er— fuckin’ hell, birdie, can’t say it with you lookin’ at me like that…”

“C’mon, Tommy, I know you wank off,” you rolled your eyes, “you and every other bloke on the planet.”

“But I can’t do it with you here!” he yelped, and a pang of self-consciousness hit your chest.  Were you that horrible of a sight that he wouldn’t be able to finish with you nearby?

“I-I’ll leave then, give you some space,” you offered.

“Birdie, I’ll know you’re just outside the door, that’s not gonna help,” he frowned.

“Well shit, Tommy, where’dya want me to go?  Fuckin’ Launceston?”

“No, shit, that’s not what I meant,” he groaned, reaching up and covering his face as he rubbed his eyes with his fingertips.  “You’ve just got me all messed up— s’not your fault, I mean!  I just don’t know what m’gonna do now…”

You bit your lip, glancing over at the flowery wallpaper on the opposite side of the room, then to the window and its view out over the beach.  “I mean, maybe… maybe if it would help, I could…”

“Jesus, birdie, don’t say you’re gonna wank me off or somethin’,” he pleaded with a concerned tilt of his head, and you stammered as you tried to remember what you were going to say.

“No, I— I was gonna say you could…” you began again, “er— I mean, before, while you were asleep, you were… it was…”

“What?” he pressed, leaning a little closer to you, and you chickened out.

“Nevermind, sorry,” you shook your head, “you should just get dressed— nobody’ll notice it.”

That was a lie: if it looked as big as it felt, a family of four could go camping under the tent in his shorts at this point.  “No, c’mon,” he pleaded, scooting a little closer to you, “won’t make fun of you or nothin’, just wanna know what you were gonna say.  You know I can’t run down to breakfast with my willy tryin’ to jump out, yeah?  Like, ‘hey mum an’ dads, pass me the eggs, then— don’t mind my fuckin’ blood sausage under the table—’”

You laughed, pushing him on the chest— but he just moved closer, again, looking right at your face.  You felt oddly exposed to him, even though he should’ve been the one feeling like that considering the circumstances.  “Fine,” you relented, “I was just… thought maybe you could— well, it could help you if you, um… just… pressed up against me, again?  Like you were before?  And you could, er…”

Dropping your voice to a mumble just above a whisper, you watched your hands clutch the spotted quilt in lieu of meeting his invasive stare.

“You could… grind on me, a bit,” you finally completed, so quiet that you barely heard yourself.  But he was a few inches away— he must’ve heard you.  Literally, he must have, because you couldn’t say it again.

“Eh?” he grunted, and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon, Tommy, you’re not deaf, are you?”

“No, m’just… you wan’ me to rub me stiffy on you?” he realised, tilting his chin down and raising an eyebrow.  Leave it to Tommy to throw all the subtlety to the wind and just say it outright like that, ignorant to the way it made your cheeks burn and your throat catch.

“I-I mean, I don’t want you to,” you denied quickly, “I just thought it might go away if you did.  Means to an end, right?”

“Yeah, means to an end,” he agreed, clearing his throat.  “Just feel a little weird about it, birdie, I mean… it’s you.  You know I love ya— don’t wanna be rude to you or, er, disrespectful—”

“It’s not,” you promised, “I’m offering— and it’ll be quick, right?”

“Er, yeah,” he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck again, “should be…”

“Okay, then, should we?” you asked, sheepishly raising your eyebrows as you looked at him.

“I mean, fuck, birdie,” he laughed nervously, “I think you know we shouldn’t.”

But you both already knew that you were going to, and the thrill of something so forbidden titillated you further.

“Lay down then, yeah?” he instructed you softly, and you turned back onto your side as you felt him press up to your back.  His arm slipped around your front, the one with your bracelet on his wrist, and you could feel him breathing by the back of your neck as he brushed your hair out of the way.  “This alright?” 

You nodded, and he held you a little tighter; you felt it then, brushing up against your lower back.  You were getting sweaty from how warm it was with him pressed up on you under the thick covers, yet you still shivered.

He hummed quietly, his hand moving down your hips so he could hold you steady.  And he rocked into you again, more confidently, a shaky breath falling from his lips.  

When his forehead rested against the back of your shoulder, you felt your back arch slightly; and then you could feel the ridge under the head of his cock, you could feel it when he moved in one, long stroke and you bit your lip, arching your back deeper.

“Shit,” he grunted quietly, and he started to move a little faster right after he said that.

After just a minute or less of that, you were beyond desperate to have him inside you, you couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like— about how he would stretch you open, how he would moan for you as he filled you to the brim.  If he wanted to, right now, he could just lift up your shirt a bit and pull your panties down without saying anything, slip inside you in one go; you were soaking wet, he’d slide in so easily…

“Fuck, birdie,” he breathed, “roll over.”

His verbal command was a bit moot, since his hand was already on your shoulder, gently pushing you to lay on your back.  He hovered above you for a moment, and you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Spread your legs,” he whispered; you’d only been waiting years for him to say that to you.  You did it unquestioningly, and he slotted himself between them with a low groan.  When he pressed his cock up against your aching cunt— through so many frustrating layers of pyjamas— he shut his eyes and tossed his head back for a second.  It was so perfect, his face in bliss like that, the morning sun peeking in through the curtains and making his curls shine golden-blonde.  He looked fucking beautiful.

A little gasp jumped in your mouth as he started to thrust against you again, each stroke of his hips rubbing right over your clit and making his chain dangle over your face.  You almost felt guilty, for a second, with the little engraving of Saint Thomas right there, like he was watching you do this.  “Sh-shit, Tommy…” you hissed, catching yourself before you moaned aloud when he rocked his hip harder against you and your whole pussy clenched.  If only he could feel that now— if only he could feel around his cock how desperately you needed him.

He descended down upon you, burying his face in your neck.  His hair tickled your cheek, and you fisted at the sheets to stop yourself from reaching up and holding onto him— that would be too much, too needy, right?  It was just supposed to be a means to an end, after all.  “Can I kiss you here?” he asked under his breath.

“Er, why would you do that?” you wondered.

“Just— thought it might make it go faster,” he justified.

“Y-yeah, Tommy, s’fine,” you nodded.  Do whatever you want to me.

He latched on right away, a mess of lips and tongue and teeth all over your neck; everything in you fought to keep your moans down, because you didn’t want him to know how much you loved this, how close you were to coming without even doing anything… without even taking your clothes off!

“Are you close?” you asked him softly, feeling him nod.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, and his heavy breathing cooled your skin where it was still wet with his spit.  “Just a little longer?”

“You’re not gonna give me a hickey, are you?” you whispered.

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he replied.  

“Just— make it quick, Tommy, we’ve gotta be downstairs soon,” you reminded him.

“Right, yeah, m’gonna come,” he promised, sending another chill over your body.  One of his hands moved down, holding your thigh as he thrusted faster and faster— fuck, the headboard was about to hit the wall.  Just as you looked up to see it slam once, you saw his free hand reach up and grab onto it tightly, blocking the impact with his knuckles.

“Tommy,” you breathed, an involuntary reaction to how deliberately sexy that was.

“Say it again,” he requested quietly.

“Tommy,” you repeated, and he grunted right against your ear— he didn’t stop moving entirely, just slowed down quite a bit as he rutted on you.  

“Fuck,” he sighed, panting.  You swallowed, feeling wonderfully strange knowing that must be it, that he just came— because of you.  His weight sank down onto you, making you let out a little squeal from the air rushing out of your lungs, and he laughed quietly.  “Sorry,” he mumbled, lifting himself up and hovering above you again, “didn’t mean to crush you…”

“S’all fine, Tom,” you promised, closing your legs as soon as you had the chance— before he could see that you’d soaked through your panties.

“Oh, ‘Tom’, eh?  Gettin’ formal, are we?” he grinned.  “Now that you’ve got me to bust in me trousers, we’re not so friendly anymore?”

“Shut up,” you laughed as you pushed him aside, swinging your legs off the bed so you could get up.  “Gonna use the loo and then I’ll get dressed.”

“What?!” he croaked.  “You kidding?  Of course I get to use the loo first!”

“Not if I get there before you,” you challenged, jumping up and trying to race him across the hotel room.  He beat you, but only by playing dirty— he ran up behind you and grabbed you, spinning you around as you kicked and laughed and squirmed in his grasp.

two weeks later

Moonshine on the bay had become a tradition on nights like this, when the warmth of summer was creeping around the corner, ever since you were both fifteen and in desperate need of some rebellion.  Now, without the illegality and all, it had lost some of that titillating appeal, but you still loved going out so late and meeting him at your secret spot.  It had the perfect view of the water at night, not that it was a particularly scenic section of the sea since it was mostly cargo ships and docks and all that, but under the flickering old street lamp and the tall field elms, it was almost romantic.

Tommy was currently still standing while you leaned back on your hands, brandishing the liquor he’d secured for the evening.  “For you,” he offered you the opened bottle with a smile, and you took it, but waited for him to take a sip of his first.  He did, and you saw his lips curling as he drank.

“How is it?” you asked, and he stopped drinking to cough a bit.

“It’s hangin’!” he grimaced.  “But it’ll do the job.”

You took a sip while he sat down next to you, and made a face of your own.  “Ah fuck!  That’s terrible!  Where the fuck’d you get this?”

But you knew what he meant when he said it would do the job— one sip was already warming your chest, and the next, though just as disgusting as the last, made you feel tingly at the tips of your fingers.

With your bottles halfway finished, you two sat up in the grass and watched the lights of ships go by slowly in the night.  “Had a date last night,” you blurted out suddenly, just to make conversation.

“Really?  With who?”

“You remember Jack Meyer?”

“God, I wish I didn’t,” he sneered, “what a knob.”

“Could you stop insulting all the guys I go out with?” you frowned.

“Stop going out with knobs and I will,” he bargained.

“Anyways, he was nice,” you announced firmly.  “Took me to the cinema and bought me a popcorn.”

“What size?” he asked.

“Medium.”

“Cheap bastard,” Tom grumbled.

“Shut up!  I’m trying to tell you that it was a nice date!” you yelped, pushing him on the shoulder.  “We actually, um… well, maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

“What?” he wondered.

“I mean, I tell you everything— you tell me everything.  You told me when Sharon Caldwell let you feel her tits in eighth grade, and you told me when you lost it to Annie— what was her name again?”

“Annie Shaw,” he finished for you.

“Right… so, point is, I figured I should tell you what happened with me and Jack, right?” you wondered.  When you found the courage to look over at Tommy, his expression was… intense.  Almost angry, a little terrified.

“Don’t tell me you gave it up to him,” he pleaded, leaning in a little closer.

“God no!  I just wanked him a bit.”

"You did what to 'im?!" Tommy yelped.

"W-well, I dunno!" you backpedalled quickly. 

“Aw, birdie, you can do so much better than him,” he groaned.

“Okay, maybe so, but he’s the one I wanted to go out with.  And he was nice and he made me feel— I dunno, pretty?” you mumbled, afraid to sound too girlish.

“Come on, you can’t go rubbing off any guy who calls you pretty,” Tom scolded.

“This isn’t just any guy!”

“Yeah, it’s Jack Meyer.  In fourth year he swallowed a penny and it never came out!”

“Believe it or not, Tommy, it's not fourth year anymore,” you frowned.  “Things are different.  We’re older.  I’m not a little kid— and I’m tired of being treated like one!”

He sighed slowly, taking another swig of the booze.  “I guess that’s fair,” he relented.  “Still… can’t stand thinking about you doing that to some guy.”

"Why?"

He seemed confused by your question, and gave you a look.

"Why can't you stand thinking about it?" you interrogated.

"I… I don't know…"  He coughed a bit, clearly wanting to change the subject, but you kept staring at him as you waited for an answer.  “I guess it’s just that,” he began again, “I worry because it’s Jack, you know?  He’s a little aggressive with girls— or, he was back when I knew him.  He didn’t… pressure you into it, right?”

You thought back to the night before, and how it all happened.  “Erm, no,” you decided, “not really.”

“Not really?  What’s that mean?”

“Well, he didn’t make me do it,” you explained, “but he was… showing me how, ‘cause I didn’t know.”

“Sh-showing you?” Tom repeated.

“He, erm, he took my hand,” you remembered, feeling your heart start to race as you looked at Tom closely.  “And he put it… he put it right here.”

It was the liquor that made you do it; you pressed your hand up to the front of his trousers, feeling him getting firmer under your touch already.  He jumped a little but didn’t stop you.

"He told me to take it out for him…" you continued, voice wavering as your whole body was suddenly shivering from nervousness, and started to open his trousers yourself.

“Birdie,” Tom gasped, and you looked up to his face again.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked him point blank.  He didn’t say anything.  “Can I keep going?”

His mouth was open slightly, and he was breathing heavily through it; he nodded.  You unzipped his fly and reached in, navigating the opening of his boxers to get his cock out.  

Of course, you’d felt it before, but you’d never seen it.  It was as beautiful as a cock could be, you thought: tanner than the rest of him for some reason, flushed at the tip, still just starting to poke out from his foreskin with a teal vein running up under your palm.  Biting your lip, you wrapped your fingers a little tighter around it.  “H-he told me to stroke it, like this,” you stammered, moving your hand gently and slowly from the base to the tip and back— then again, and again.

Daring to glance up at Tom’s face again, you saw him watching your hand with a dumbstruck expression.  You twisted your hand slightly as you reached the tip and he groaned.  "Birdie…" he sighed— his voice wore some impossible mixture of arousal, confusion, scolding, disappointment, and desperation.  It made your knees weak.  Good thing you were still kneeling on the ground, so it didn’t make much difference.  You were so sloshed that standing up would’ve been a bit of an effort, anyway.

“When I was doing it right,” you continued, “he’d tell me I was bein’ good for him… it made me feel weird when he said that, but good.  You know?”

“Y-yeah…” he choked, hissing through his teeth.  

It went on that way for a little while, just his panting and the crickets chirping; though there was clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock, you thought it might not be enough, so you pursed your lips and let your spit dribble down onto him so you could spread it out with your hand.

“Christ,” he groaned, “Jack taught you that, too?”

You nodded, and he growled a little— the sound made your chest tighten up (as well as a few other places).  His cock was starting to bob against your grip, and his breathing was faster and heavier with each stroke.  "You're close?" you noticed, and he nodded, chest heaving as he stared down at what you were doing to him.  "You can come, Tom.  I want you to."

"Shit," he hissed.  "Shit, jus' don't stop then."

And you didn't, in fact you moved your hand even faster, until it was just a blur and he was bucking up into your palm desperately.

"Ah, fuck!" he gasped, and come started to spurt from his pulsing cock, landing on his shirt and your hand.  "Fuck…"

You watched his face as it tilted back, his eyebrows knitted together, his mouth parted in a little moan.  Your hand was still moving, and his jumped up to grab your wrist and stop you.  Then it was still, and silent, except for him breathing like he'd just run a marathon.

After a moment, he tilted his head down again and came back to reality; he instantly looked mortified.  "God, birdie," he choked, "I made a mess on you— m'so sorry, let me get it…"

He tried to wipe the come away with his shirt, frantically cleaning your hand up as best he could.  "It's fine, Tommy," you giggled.

"No it isn't, I've got your pretty hand all dirty now…"

Examining his focused expression as he wiped up the smears of come, you bit your lip slightly.  You did feel guilty for making up that whole story about a date with Jack Meyer that never did— and never would— happen, but it worked.  You’d never lied to Tommy like that before, but you decided to blame it on the liquor and not your desperation.  

In the two weeks since your holiday, nothing untoward whatsoever had happened between you and it was driving you crazy.  You didn’t even talk about it!  You, of course, thought about it every day— well, really every night, when you touched yourself and tried to remember exactly how his voice sounded in your ear.  That was what drove you to this, to getting drunk and making shit up for a chance to touch him.

"Kiss me," you said suddenly.  He looked up at your face, and you just stared at each other for a second.  

His hand dropped yours— it was clean now, or clean enough at least— and moved up to hold your face.  You sighed slightly; his thumb stroked your cheek and he smiled at you.

He gently tilted your head down and met you halfway, pressing his lips to your forehead.  Your chest deflated and your eyes fell shut.  So this is what heartbreak feels like.  It's not as bad as I thought.

"That better?" he asked as he pulled back, moving his own face down so he could look up at you with a tender smile.  You nodded, willing yourself not to cry in front of him now.  

You were throwing yourself at him and he was throwing you away.  "We'll always be friends, won't we?" you asked quietly.

"Aw, birdie— of course," he cooed, pulling you into a hug.  You clutched at his shoulders, digging your nails into handfuls of his ratty old Nirvana t-shirt.

He rolled back onto the grass and pulled you down with him, making you laugh and try to get away— but he wouldn't let you go.

"We'll always be friends," he promised again, "'cause otherwise who'd keep all those awful boys away from you?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes.

"I will," he sighed, relaxing his grip on you slightly.  "I'm gonna ease up on you, I think.  Let you date somebody if you want— even if he's a tosser.  'Cause you're right, you're not a little kid anymore.  And it's not fair to you."

You swallowed, laying your head on his chest.  You'd never actually wanted him to let you date someone else… you just wanted him to finally love you back.  But maybe this was the best you were going to get.

~

“Go, Tommy!” you cheered from the side of the pitch, though he surely couldn’t hear you through all that.. rugby-ing.  Rugbing?

Whatever— point is, you clapped and hollered anyways as you watched him run all over the place, narrowly dodging being tackled a few times.  You winced when he got taken down from the side by one of the biggest guys out there.  Tommy had a high pain tolerance, but you’d rather not see him lose a tooth or something.  What a waste of a perfect smile that would be.

For all their efforts, Tommy’s team lost by just a few points; it was just a scrimmage, hence why there was basically no one else here but you and the actual team members, so you hoped he wouldn’t be pouty the rest of the day after losing.  He didn’t seem to be, from what you could tell this far away— he was shaking hands and bumping fists, sweaty and streaked with dirt and grass as he chugged from his water bottle.  It really should not have been as attractive as it was…

Before you got caught ogling, someone caught your attention: “Hey,” one of the players jogged up to you, and you blinked up at him blankly, not sure who he was.  You’d definitely seen him before, you remembered his dreads and… overall massiveness.  But you weren’t sure what he was talking to you for.  “You’re here with Tom, yeah?”

“Oh, yes,” you smiled.

“He said you’re an old mate of his,” the player went on.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Sweet of you to come cheer him on,” he laughed, “even though it didn’t seem to do him much good today.”

You shrugged.  “He loses a lot, but he always gets back up.”

“I’m Rhys, by the way,” he offered.  “I’d shake your hand or somethin’, but I’m pretty filthy at the moment.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you laughed.  “Surprised you haven’t gone to the showers already, that’d be the first thing I’d be doing after getting that sweaty.”

“Well, I was gonna,” he explained, “but, well, I was afraid you’d be gone before I got back.”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering what that meant, and he continued on.

“Listen, I asked Tom, but I figured I should ask you… er…” he stalled as he smiled nervously.  “Have you got a boyfriend or anythin’?”

“Er, no,” you answered.

“Issuh?” he laughed.

“Yes!” you insisted.  “You think I’m lying or something?”

“I think it’s a little too good to be true, that’s all,” he explained.  “Girl like you shouldn’t stay single too long.”

You kept waiting for Tommy to come ruin it— to come rescue you.  You glanced over, and you saw him look back at you, but he just smiled and kept working on the laces of his cleats.

“So, I guess I should ask for your number before it’s too late, yeah?” Rhys continued.  You were pulled out of your thoughts, looking up at him and dropping your mouth open as you hoped for some words to come out.

“Oh!  Erm,” you began, “well—”

“It’s okay if not,” he promised, “but, you know… I’d like it.  So I can call you sometime or something— maybe I’ll have worked up the nerve to ask you out by then.”

Your cheeks were warm, but so were the backs of your eyes.  You never thought you would miss it, Tom running up and putting his arm around you, shooting whatever guy you were talking to a glare that made everyone feel uncomfortable; you glanced over at him again, watching him chat and laugh with some of the other guys.  He was just going to let this happen, wasn’t he?  And so were you.  “Yeah,” you finally blurted out, “sure— got your phone now?  I’ll put it in for you.”

“Great,” he smiled, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it to you.  “Wow, that went surprisingly well.”

“Are you that surprised?” you laughed as you added yourself as a contact.

“These things don’t normally go right for me,” he explained.

“For you?” you glanced up at him incredulously.

“Now, don’t give me an ego,” he chuckled, and you laughed with him.

You quickly held his phone up to take a selfie with your tongue sticking out, adding it as your contact photo.  “There you go,” you handed it back to him, and he looked at it with a wide smile on his face.

“Aw, that’s rich,” he said, and you bit your lip.  “I really should hit the showers now, but, I’ll call you?”

“Okay,” you smiled, “I’ll answer.  Probably.”

He waved at you as he left, looking down at your contact in his phone one more time with a shake of his head, before disappearing into the little tunnel through the stands.

You told Tom you would wait for him until he was all done, but god, he was taking forever getting cleaned up.  In fact, everyone else had left when he finally came out in his change of clothes and found you leaning against the cement wall outside the practice facility.  “Fuck took you so long?” you groaned as he appeared.

“You know how long it takes to wash off after a match like that?” he laughed.  “You wouldn’t have walked home with me in the state I was in.”

“Okay, fair enough,” you sighed, “can we go now?” 

“Well, um— actually, I have to get my bag from the locker room…”

“Oh my god,” you whined.

“Don’t get teazy, I just have to pack up all my gear,” he scolded.

“I’m coming with you,” you insisted, “and helping you carry it so we can get fuckin’ home already.”

“Fine, fine,” he laughed, starting back as you followed along with him.  “Lucky for you, it’s empty.”

“Aw,” you faked a pout, “no sexy rugby boys to look at?”

“Just me,” he smiled— and fuck, he was joking, but it scared you for a second.

There was a little awkward pause while he guided you around the bend into the locker area, left surprisingly clean after the boys were finished; it was only Tom’s locker open, with his things all strewn about, and you sighed.  “Look at the mess you made…” you breathed, starting to help him clean it up and get his things together.

“Rhys finally asked you out, then?” Tommy grinned, elbowing you lightly.

“O-oh, yeah,” you breathed, “erm, well— he just got my number, no date yet or anything.”

“Well, it’s a start.  I didn’t want to give him your number for you, but he asked me for it— actually, he’s asked about you a couple times now.”

“You think he’s good enough for me?” you asked.

“I mean, I dunno,” Tommy shrugged, “I don’t know him that well.  But he seems nice enough— figure you can decide the rest.”

You sighed, nodding a little.

“If he tries anything, though, you let me know and I’ll set him straight, alright?” he added, and you laughed.

“Alright, I will,” you agreed, kneeling down to get some of his clothes from off the floor and stuff them into the duffel.  “Not sure how you’re gonna do that when he’s got a metre on you and maybe twenty pounds of muscle—”

“Shut up,” Tom scoffed.  “You know I can take any guy down if it’s got to do with you.”

Your throat caught, and you stood up again.  "Tommy, listen, I actually— I wanted to… talk to you."

He cleared his throat, looking nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck.  "Yeah?  You're all good, right?  Everythin's okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nodded, leaning back against the lockers, "I just… I was thinking about you."

He stepped up closer to you, close enough that your heart started to race.  "Oh… what about me?"

"Well, about us," you clarified, "you and me— I want… erm…"

"Hm?"

"I just— you know how we sometimes…?"

He leaned his head in a little closer, waiting with raised eyebrows for you to get to your point.

"That thing we do, sometimes?" you started again.  "I wanna… do it again."

He nodded, like he understood, but then paused and moved his mouth over to the side.  "You wanna go to the cinema?"

You laughed, more out of frustration than amusement, and tilted your head forward to rest on his chest.  "God, Tommy…"

"What?" he laughed.

"I— I want—"  

You couldn't look up at him as you said it.  You took a deep breath and tried to compose your bravery.

"I want us to touch each other again," you finally rushed out.  You waited for him to say something, or do something, but he didn't.  “Like when we were on holiday,” you recalled, toying with the hem of his shirt.  “And that night on the bay…”

“God, birdie, I— I dunno if I can do that again,” he breathed, and you felt your eyes start to burn a bit.

“Really, Tommy?” you sighed.  “I’m that… repulsive?  Or is it Rhys?  ‘Cause all he’s done is get my number—”

“N-no,” he groaned, “shit, m’not makin’ any sense.  I can’t do that again with you because it’s too hard, okay?”

You looked up at him, knitting your eyebrows together.  “What’s too hard?”

“Touchin’ you like that,” he whispered— even now, the way he said made your spine tingle— glancing down from your eyes to your lips and back, “and havin’ to act normal again.  Not bein’ your boyfriend.”

Of everything you thought he might say then, you never expected that.  You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, even when you bit your bottom lip.  A laugh broke out through your grin, and you had to cover your mouth to try to hide it.

“Jesus, you’re laughin’ at me now!” he lamented.  “I finally tell you and you laugh at me!  You’re heartless, you know that?”

“No, Tommy, v’got a heart— and it’s all yours,” you promised, standing up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.  He gave you a confused look, and you laughed again.  “You don’t get it do you, still?  I’ve fancied you for ages— proper in love with you, really.  Kept askin’ you to do all that stuff ‘cause, well, you’re all I think about anyways.  Thought you were just doing me favours.”

After a pause, he finally laughed with you.  “Am I a fuckin’ idiot, then?  You’ve had it goin’ for me all this time and I didn’t notice?”

“You’re a little stupid,” you mitigated.  “I think I was being pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, and what about me?” he noticed.  “I’ve been all over you forever— kissin’ and huggin’ you, cuddling all the time— you didn’t notice that I think you’re fit?”

You shrugged.  "You've always been like that."

"Yeah!" he emphasised.

"Ohhhh," you nodded, "hm.  Okay, we're both a little stupid."

“Birdie,” he smiled, and your heart melted, because he’d never said it quite like that before.  He leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“You can really kiss me, you know,” you told him, and he pulled away just enough to look at you with an impossible-to-read expression.  “I-if you want,” you mitigated suddenly, and he smiled at you, then laughed.

“Aw, fuck, Tommy,” you turned your head to the side, “you’re awful…”

He put his hand on the side of your face, gently turning you to look at him.  “Yeah,” he agreed.  And then he moved in closer and kissed you— properly, finally.  You shut your eyes, your chest emptying with a sigh; his other hand held your face then, too, and you reached up to hold his wrists.  Your right hand felt the worn-out old bracelet that he still wore, and you couldn’t help but smile a bit against him.  He smiled, too.

“Tommy,” you sighed, reaching out and grabbing him by his belt to pull him closer.  He pressed his forehead on yours, looking down at your hands working on the buckle shakily. 

“Birdie, c’mon,” he gasped, “not here—”

You pouted a little, and he laughed.

“We waited all this time and you can’t wait until we get home?”

“Yes!” you whined.  “I need you…”

“Shit,” he groaned, kissing you again— but just for a few very passionate seconds before he pulled back once more.  “We’ll go home and I’ll do this right, I swear.”

“Why can’t we just do it here?” you wondered.

“Because if you told me some guy had taken your virginity in a rugby practice field locker room, I would kill him,” Tom frowned.  

You laughed.  “Fine, fine… let’s go home.”

~ 

Thank god his parents weren’t home.  You didn’t want to try to be quiet.

He had you in his bed the second the door was shut, kissing you voraciously as he helped you undress and tore his own shirt and trousers off.  For a guy who was just preaching patience, he was pretty hasty all of a sudden.

When all you had on were your panties, he set his arms straight to hover over you and stare down at you, looking a little dumbstruck.  You almost felt self-conscious enough to try to cover your chest, but he smiled at you and you felt a little better.  “You’re so… fuck, birdie, you’re pretty.”

It was a simple compliment, but it felt incredibly powerful when he said it like that.  He was in his boxers, and it wasn’t too much more skin than you’d already seen while swimming with him and such, but it was different with his massive hard-on making a visible imprint in the patterned cotton.  

Gently, he spread your legs, and tightened his jaw at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear.  “Oh, fuck,” he sighed.

“I always get like that,” you admitted quietly.  “Should be easy for you to fuck me, right?”

“Yes, yeah,” he agreed, “but m’not gonna fuck you yet.”

You frowned a little, and he laughed as he kissed you again.

“I told you I’m doing this the right way,” he insisted, “it’s your first time.  It’ll hurt if I just go for it.”

He leaned back and sat up, bringing his hands down to the waistband of your panties and gently dragging them down your legs; you felt gooseflesh spread all over your body.

“Oh, darling,” he whispered as he opened your legs again, looking right at you now.  You squirmed a little, but his grip on your thighs was tight.  “I need you to tell me now if you’ve changed your mind about this… ‘cause I can already tell I’m gonna have a hard time stopping once I start.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you were sure, you were so sure.  “I haven’t changed my mind,” you promised.

“I won’t get mad at you or anything,” he assured.

“I know— I’m sure,” you breathed.  Wondering if you should return the sentiment, you asked, "You're sure you wanna do this?  With me?"

"Birdie, I've wanted to do this with you since I knew what this was," he smiled.

"And you don't mind that I've never…"

"No, birdie, I don't mind," he laughed.  "Think it's perfect actually.  Couldn't let any other lad be your first.  Couldn't let any other lad touch you like this."

You bit your lip.  “You were gonna let me go out with Rhys,” you reminded him.

“I let you give him your number.  We hadn’t even gotten to you going out with him,” Tom corrected.  “And I was acting fine as best I could but I was really jumpin’, birdie, thinking about if something might happen with you two— something like this…”

You whined as you tugged on his shirt, hoping to hide your face in his neck, but he pulled his face back so he could look down at you with a smile.  "Tommy, please," you whimpered.  

"Please, what?" he encouraged.

"Jus' need you…"

He kissed your neck again, making your back arch and your hands grab onto his shoulders, and pressed his hips down against you.  You whined at the feeling of his erection through clothes, but opened your eyes in confusion when he pulled back again just a moment later, hovering over you.  "Say my name when I make you come, yeah?" he instructed, and you nodded.  "Try it on for size just once, why don'tya," he encouraged with a smile.

"Tommy," you smiled back, and he kissed the tip of your nose.

"That's m'girl," he praised, before crawling back down, kissing a trail over your stomach, moving his hand up your thigh.

He just kept his face right up close to you, watching his finger swipe through your folds, then watching it gently circle your clit.  You whimpered, and felt your insides flex on nothing.  Apparently, that made him want to give you something to clench on— he gently slipped his pointer finger past your opening, and you let out a long sigh.

“So warm inside,” he observed.  He pulled the finger back out a second later, putting it in his mouth and humming happily.  He put his mouth on you at the same time that he put the finger back in, along with a second; that was a lot to take in, and your back arched up off the bed instantly.  He mouthed at your clit, swirling his tongue around while his lips created this wonderful pressure; you had to grab onto his hair, and thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind.

Eventually, he did have to break away for a second.  "Wondered how you'd taste," he admitted with a sigh.  

"Well?" you prompted.

"Taste like 'eaven, birdie," he purred.  "Sweet little pussy— an' it's all for me?"

"All yours," you nodded, and he growled a little as he dove back in.

The tip of his tongue slid right up from your opening to where your clit was swollen and throbbing— he pushed his tongue flat against it and you whimpered loudly.  He started to really fuck you with his fingers then, rather than just letting the natural movement of your hips force you to ride them; they curled inside you, hitting a spot that made your own fingers curl into fists in his hair.  You didn’t want to hurt him, but he didn’t mind getting his hair pulled, apparently, and just moaned lowly against you.

The pressure started weighing on your gut after a while, your pussy tensing up on him faster and faster until it was just bearing down on him unendingly.  “Fuck, Tommy,” you gasped.

“C’mon, birdie,” he mumbled against you, “wan’ you to come.  Go ahead and come for me, yeah?”

You called out his name one more time, and it all spilled over at once; he shut his eyes tight, letting you pull his face right up against you by his curls as your hips bucked and grinded on him.  You sobbed weakly, and when it was suddenly too much, he broke away and pinned you down for a messy kiss.

It left you even more breathless than you already were.  When he pulled back, his eyes were a little glazed over and his lips and chin were a lot glazed over; he gave you a crooked smile.  “Taste how sweet you are?” he purred.  You wouldn’t call it sweet, really, but it still turned you on like crazy to hear him say it.

“Please, Tom,” you gasped, grabbing his shoulders, “you’ll fuck me now, right?”

He nodded, and you let out a sigh of relief.  “Sure you’re ready?” he asked, laughing when you groaned and punched him on the arm.

“Course I’m fuckin’ ready!” you snapped.  “God, Tommy, you always give ‘em all this rigamarole first?”

He shook his head.  “Just you, birdie… it was always just you.”

Kissing you again, his breath changed as he reached down to push his boxers out of the way and kick them off to the floor.  The way it felt to have his bare skin against yours as he lowered himself down was… euphoric.  Warm and soft and smooth, and when he wrapped you in his arms, it felt like he could just absorb you entirely.  You wouldn’t mind it if he did.

He'd prepared you so well that there was only one quick sting of pain when he pushed inside you— though just that was still enough to make one tiny tear roll down your temple, which he kissed away softly.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.  You nodded.  "I need you to tell me, birdie."

"I'm okay," you promised through a sigh.  "It hurts a little, b-but please don't stop."

"You're sure?"

"Please!"

He pushed his hips flush with yours and you gritted your teeth, though everything in you relaxed just a moment later; and all that was left was the fullness, the warmth of him, the way his eyes sparkled as he looked down at you.  "You're so beautiful," he whispered to you, and you bit your lip.

"I love you, Tommy," you mumbled weakly, and he planted one soft kiss on your mouth.

"I love you too, darling."

He carefully began to move, needing to reach down with one hand to keep your hips steady.  Your moans were shaky at first, but got louder and more even with each movement.  

"You're… so deep," you breathed.  "Tommy, I— I didn't know anything could be so deep in me."

"Well, I am," he grinned.  "I'm right… here."

He pressed down on your stomach, right on the spot where the tip of his cock reached— and your eyes rolled back.  "Ohh, god," you whined.

"You feel it, love?" he cooed.

"Yes, yes," you groaned.  "Fuck, Tommy, why didn't you tell me you had a perfect cock?"

He laughed a little, leaning down to kiss you on the jaw.  "Guess it never came up."

"Does it always… is it always like this?" you wondered.  "It's so good, does it always feel this good?"

He shook his head, kissing your forehead and then trailing down your nose and cheek.  "No, it's not always like this," he answered quietly.  "Not for me, anyway.  It's never been like this."

His lips met yours again, and you reached up to weave your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck.  He groaned a little, moving his hips faster, and you smiled.  "Do you wanna fuck me harder?" you asked.

"Fuck," he mumbled, "I— I could.  Do you want me to?"

"I can take it," you promised.

Picking up the pace slightly, he held you tighter; and you felt each impact a little harder, the sound of his skin on yours echoing around the room.  “Like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered— you meant it more neutral than it came out, it sounded proper pornographic the way you said it, and he smiled.  “More, Tommy, please?  Jus’ want more…”

He hissed but did as he was told, latching onto your neck with his lips as he let something a little more animalistic take over, making you cry out and hold onto him tighter.  “Beautiful,” he grunted, “you’re so beautiful, birdie— you sound beautiful.”

“It’s just ‘cause you’re making me sound like this,” you sighed, clutching at his back, too overwhelmed by pleasure to worry about scratching him up.

“I’m giving you a hickey this time,” he informed you.  “You want my mark on you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted, “always, Tommy— fuck, always wanted it.”

“‘Cause you’re mine, yeah?”

“Always,” you whimpered.

“A-ah, shit— when it’s time, I'll pull out, okay?" he offered.

"No," you whined, wrapping your legs around his hips.  "Tommy, please, want it inside…"

"Birdie," he breathed roughly, "if you say things like that, I-I'll come too fast."

“Don’t care,” you whimpered.  “Promise you’re gonna come inside me.”

“F-fuck,” he groaned, “erm— yeah, m’gonna come in ya, okay?”

You choked out the shortest sob of joy.  “Please, please— fuck, I’ll come again…”

“Yeah, fuck, c’mon then,” he praised, “just say my name, birdie— I wanna hear my name.”

“Tommy,” you cried, feeling him gasp against your neck as another wave of heat spread over your body; feeling him flex inside you right as you hit your own peak was so perfect.  You could’ve never described your emotions in that moment with words, but they found their way out anyways: you started crying, instantly.

“Don’t cry, birdie, shh,” he soothed quietly, wiping your tears away with his thumb.  “C’mon, darling, don’t cry—”

“N-no, Tommy,” you sniffled, “I’m just happy— I’m so happy, I swear…”

So he let you cry, and held you close to him; he didn’t leave until you fell asleep, even though he said he was just going to get you a washcloth and a cup of water and come right back.  He played with your hair and kissed your face, and just talked about all the normal things you usually talked about— as in, everything.  But this time, it was actually everything, no more hidden feelings.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but after one of those dreamless sleeps that went by quickly— like you’d only shut your eyes for a few minutes— you woke up tangled with him and his sheets.  Turning on your side as best you could, you looked at his sleeping face and smiled to yourself.  He woke up just a bit later, cutting your staring short, and smiled back at you.

“Top of the morning, my ‘ansum,” you greeted as you pinched his cheek.  He laughed and batted your hand away, hiding his face from the sun under his arm.  

“You kicked me in your sleep,” he grumbled.

“So it’s all over, then?  Final straw, you’re finally getting rid of me?” you joked.

“Mm, I thought about it,” he snorted, making you laugh.  He popped his face up again and started to kiss your face all over.

���Tommy, stop,” you whined.

“You can’t make me stop now,” he pointed out, “it’s one thing to get your best friend to stop kissing you, but your boyfriend?  Nah, m’not stopping.”

You laughed, his hand on your waist pulling you closer to him only making you feel more ticklish and squirm more.  You only stilled when he grabbed your face and gave you a real kiss, and everything seemed to slow down quite a bit.  You kissed him back, properly, reaching up to weave your fingers in his hair.  “So, you’re my boyfriend, then?” you noticed when you broke away.

“No, I think we’re still just friends,” he nodded, and you laughed and shoved him on the chest.  

“Might as well be, everything we did before sayin’ we were only friends,” you admitted.

“I’m whatever you want me to be, birdie,” he promised.

#tom (make up) x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #tom (make up) smut #make up (2019) fic #tom grant x reader #tom grant smut

[ladykailitha]

Staking My Claim Part 6

And here we are! The end of this sweet little story. I had a blast writing it and I enjoyed all the comments and tags. Thank you so much.

We get to the "is this set after canon or a no monster AU *shrugs* could be either" part of the story.

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3| Part 4|Part 5

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

When he woke up next it was dark out and his stomach was growling. As he sat up he could smell the warm heat of something cooking in the kitchen. He went to the bathroom and washed his hands. He knew he should brush his teeth and he vaguely remembered Eddie saying something about a spare around here somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where. And he really, really didn’t want to go rummaging through the drawers.

He gave up and decided to do it after dinner and have Eddie show him where it was.

He ran his fingers through his hair to tame the tousled look to something more respectable. He really didn’t think it worked. He had slept with it wet and it would take getting it wet and washed before he could properly tame it.

Jeff grinned at him when he came stumbling out. “Just in time, man. Eddie’s making his famous spaghetti.”

“It smells heavenly,” he murmured.

“Just wait ‘til you taste it, Stevie,” Eddie said with a wide, happy smile. “It’ll blow your mind.”

Steve blushed. “You didn’t have to wait for me to eat, I could have reheated leftovers or something.”

Jeff and Eddie shared a grin.

“This is when we usually eat,” Jeff explained. “We were working on a song for our band earlier.”

“I’m our lyricist,” Eddie said. “Jeff is the composer. He takes my silly little words and turns them into songs.”

Steve nodded. “And you guys play at Cora’s Den?”

“The Hideout and Alleyways, too,” Jeff confirmed. “But yeah, Cora’s Den is our main spot though, which is why Mrs. Hughes pays for this apartment for us to stay at when we’re here.”

“I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that Gareth’s parents are rich enough to afford a three bedroom apartment in the middle of Indy for you guys to crash at whenever you want,” Steve admitted. “My parents would never do that.”

Eddie shrugged. “We knew Gareth’s family had money when he first started playing with us. No poor schmuck living in Forest Hills was going to buy their ten year old a drum kit and remain sane.”

“Yeah,” Jeff agreed. “We just didn’t know how much until he offered his parent’s garage to practice in. That place has better acoustics then most bars we’ve played in.”

“Just what do his parents do?” Steve asked in awe.

“They run those fancy boutiques for pets,” Eddie said. “They have five shops around the country. Here in Indy, Chicago, New York, LA...and what’s the other one?”

“Miami,” Jeff said.

Eddie snapped his fingers. “That’s it! They charge hundreds of dollars for rich morons to make their pets as pampered as possible.”

“That explains more than it doesn’t,” Steve sneered. “My parents hate animals. The thought of a pet treated better than they treat their own son would have driven them crazy.”

“Not even a goldfish in the Harrington household?” Jeff asked, cocking his head to the side.

Steve laughed bitterly. “And have the water spill on the perfect hardwood floors? Not likely.”

“Even I had a hamster at one point,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “You are seriously missing out.”

“I’m hoping when I get a place of my own I’ll be able to get a cat,” he confessed.

“Aww...” Eddie said. “What kind?”

Steve shrugged. “Probably a rescue.”

Jeff and Eddie smiled softly.

“Sounds good, Steve,” Jeff murmured.

“Food is done!” Eddie said with a flourish. “Spaghetti in meat sauce.” He blinked for a moment. “You’re not vegetarian are you?”

Steve laughed. “No. You probably missed me tucking into the bacon and sausage for breakfast.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Oh right.”

He dished out the food on three plates and handed one to each of Jeff and Steve before grabbing his own plate and sitting on the other side of Steve.

They tucked into their meals and ate quietly. A testament to how good it tasted.

For Steve, it was warm and hearty, filling a void he didn’t know he had. Even when he was in high school, he didn’t have a lot of guy friends and while he loved the Party with all his heart, it wasn’t the same as hanging out with people his age.

Once they were done, Jeff did dishes. Eddie led him over to their large fluffy sofa.

Steve settled in, curled up to Eddie’s side as he talked with Jeff about the new song.

It had been so long since he felt this safe. Like if he drifted off to sleep right now, he would be protected.

And wasn’t that just something.

Eddie’s voice broke through his revery. “Hey, sweetheart. I think you’re falling asleep again.”

“Being drugged sucks.”

Jeff laughed. “It sounds like you’ve been drugged more than once, man.”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other, then Steve winced.

“I may have angered a couple of Russian officers when I accidentally stumbled on their very illegal operation under the Starcourt Mall?” he said through gritted teeth.

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Considering how messed up Hawkins is, nothing surprises me anymore.”

Eddie and Steve huffed out a laugh.

“You’ve got that right,” Eddie said. “Come on, darlin’, let’s get you to bed.”

They got ready for bed and Steve finally got that toothbrush to brush his teeth. He washed his face and Eddie led him back to his bedroom.

Once Steve had gotten comfortable, he pulled Eddie to him before he could protest.

“You’re mine now,” Steve murmured happily. “I licked you. Remember?”

Eddie chuckled. “I guess finder’s keepers. I’ll happily be yours.”

They curled up on the bed and slept soundly knowing that they were heading back to Hawkins with more then the hookup they assumed it was going to be when Eddie first came to his aid.

And Steve couldn’t have been happier.

He was going to have to do something really nice for Robin as a thank you.

As he was falling to sleep, he felt Eddie lick the side of his face. He giggled and pressed their lips together. Eddie hummed happily.

“Love you, Stevie.”

“Love you, too, Eds.”

***

And if you saw this on Saturday, no you didn't. I hit post instead of schedule and it was not meant for human eyes yet.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @lololol-1234 @monsterloverforhire @mugloversonly @live-the-fangirl-life @hellfireone @lublix @breealtair @croatoan-like-its-hot @f0xxyb0xxes @jamieweasley13 @r0binscript @confuseddisastertm @sleepdeprivedflower @thedragonsaunt @dissociatingdemon @dragonmama76

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #corroded coffin

[bootleg-nessie]

Predatory Bananas: an Evolutionary Horror

(Pls read, I literally spent HOURS on this <3)

A friend sent me the following video about the various potential methods of banana locomotion. It got me thinking. How would a banana move? Naturally, as an autist with a special interest in evolutionary biology, I took the joke a little too far and wrote a whole piece on the matter, analyzing the feasibility of each method and the changes they’d need to evolve in order to achieve them.

(Video courtesy of Burning Onion Animation on TikTok, they make great content, go check them out)

The first and most likely way bananas would move is if banana trees evolved to spread their seeds through their fruits rolling down hills like the morphology of #1 suggests. The only major mutations that need to happen are a more pronounced curve and increased rigidity to facilitate rolling and absorb the impact from falling from the tree. Overall, evolving to this point is relatively straightforward. #1 is the most feasible and realistic answer.

For bananas to develop motility like in #4 is theoretically possible with the right environmental pressures and with enough time, though much more difficult. I see this working in one of two ways. First, they could evolve rigid structures that change shape depending on moisture content, using natural dry/wet cycles to move a little more each time it rains, much like the seeds of Erodium Cicutarium (pictured below). The fruits of the banana tree would most likely evolve to have hooks on the end of said structures, contracting and pulling themselves forward a little each time they dry out, and relaxing and resetting their grip on the soil each time they get wet.

The second way I could see this happening is if they evolved true locomotion. True locomotion in bananas would take at least a few million years to evolve (probably more like tens of millions), and even then, movement would be incredibly slow. There exists a plant called the “walking palm” (socratea exorrhiza, pictured below) that’s capable of “walking” using its roots, but it can only travel about 20 meters per year in ideal conditions, and has the resources of the entire tree at its disposal, not just that of a single fruit.

While this is the more likely explanation as to how #4 might happen, it’s not what the video depicts. The video clearly shows a banana dragging itself along like an inchworm, indicating motor cells such as those present in Dionaea Muscipula (venus flytrap, pictured below). Whenever this type of movement in plants occurs, it takes an extreme amount of energy and is generally rather inefficient and slow. In addition to this, the banana is moving its entire mass every time, so it’ll have to move much more slowly to compensate. This means that the banana would probably only be able to travel a few centimeters before decomposing beyond the point of functionality. After a few million more years it’s possible that bananas could evolve to travel as far as several meters after falling off the tree, but the further they go, the more fit each individual fruit needs to be, and the more energy and resources they need. Eventually, it’ll reach a point where the energy expenditure will outweigh the benefit and the fruits will stop evolving to travel any further, which I imagine would plateau somewhere in the 0.5 to 3 meter range. However, the fruits still require a significantly higher amount of energy at this point because they’ve evolved to move autonomously, so trees would likely evolve to produce fewer, but more developed fruits as a result. Overall this is the second most likely way bananas would evolve to move, but the video depicts a time lapse, not footage taken in real time.

The next most likely option is #2, which is where things start to get much more interesting. At this point we are quickly beginning to leave the territory of the banana being a fruit and stepping closer towards the realm of the banana being its own independent organism. Whether the banana is still a single fruit from a larger tree depends on if the video is stabilized or not. First, let’s assume that the video has automatically stabilized the banana within the frame. This means that the banana is moving erratically and aimlessly, with the goal of simply moving as far from its origin as it can. The most simple form of this would be a ballistic dispersal method in which the banana grows curved and under tension, falling off the tree when ripe. Upon impact, the tension is released and banana extends, springing itself upward and outward with a single bounce. But this isn’t what the video shows either, it depicts clear and repeated movement, again suggesting the presence of motor cells much like those likely found in banana #4. In this case it probably evolved in roughly the same way as banana #4, but works less effectively due to having a less stable method of traveling.

But what if the video ISN’T stabilized, and the banana’s staying upright all on its own? In the video, the banana isn’t just moving along a single plane with one set of motor cells like the Venus flytrap. It’s full on galloping. This requires multiple groups of motor cells working together in a coordinated effort. This banana has real-time sensory input to orient and stabilize itself. This means that the banana has evolved some sort of internal gyroscope, much like our inner ear that helps it determine what up and down is, and more importantly, angular rotation. While plants have been observed reacting to and even predicting stimuli in ways that still baffle scientists to this day, this is far more complex than any plant every discovered throughout human history. Everything here points to something more, perhaps rudimentary intelligence, dare I even say sentience.

This begs the question: is it even a plant anymore? At this stage it’s evolved sensory organs and can move independently. But why? Organisms don’t evolve the ability to move without reason. This could mean one of three things. First, it could have evolved the ability to run as a means of spreading its seeds further. But this can’t be the answer. Moving more slowly would be way more efficient for a banana in terms of energy expenditure, and spreading seeds the old fashioned way is still perfectly viable, so it wouldn’t have evolved that way due to lack of necessity. This brings us to the first legitimate possibility: the banana is prey. If the banana were prey, then the ability to gallop most likely evolved as a means of escaping predators and to avoid being eaten. This is further evidence that the banana has evolved beyond being a humble plant as this goes completely against the purpose of fruits, which evolved to be eaten on purpose. Now, the banana’s goal isn’t to be eaten so that its seeds may be deposited elsewhere, its primary objective is to survive. At this point it’s relatively safe to assume that the banana no longer comes from a tree, and now reproduces through fragmentation, or perhaps even live birth. Its lack of leaves suggest that it’s evolved beyond being an autotroph and relying on photosynthesis. But if it no longer gets nutrients from a tree, how does it subsist? It must be getting its energy from somewhere. The most likely answer to this is that banana is a herbivore, and gets its energy from plant matter, which contains a lot of the same nutrients that the banana recently used to get by growing on a tree. Overall, this is the third most likely way the banana would evolve locomotion.

But what if it isn’t an herbivore? This brings us to the other possibility: the banana is a predator. The banana that concerns me the most is banana #3. While all the other bananas have undergone major changes to their morphology, banana #3 appears to be identical to any regular banana, yet it still moves. The only way that such movement could be possible is if the banana had some sort of internal mechanism that moves its center of mass around rather quickly within its outer shell, which also requires an internal gyroscope for balance. I know what you’re thinking; “but this is an incredibly complex mechanism, wouldn’t it be easier to evolve one of the other ways?” To which the answer is yes, it would. But this raises another question with an even more alarming answer: why didn’t it? The answer lies in the banana’s identical appearance to that of a typical Cavendish. Clearly, looking like an ordinary banana is central to its survival strategy. At this point, it’s evolved well past the point of being a fruit and has become the first of an entirely new kingdom of sentient creatures descended from plants.

According to my estimates from the video, banana #3 is only able to move at a pace of around a tenth of a meter per second, maybe a quarter or half of a meter at the most. This means that it probably didn’t evolve the ability to move as a means of running from predators. Based on the physics in the video, my best guess as to how the banana moves is through the use of mostly hollow internal chambers with a central mass (probably a calcified seed) suspended by tendons that can move in any direction, accelerating the banana in that direction. Here I’ve collaborated with the massively talented @pholidia to bring my ideas to light.

Picture it. You’re a lone banana farmer in South America. You’re out harvesting your crops when you see a single banana on the ground. It looks a little weird and bruised, but still totally edible. “No good in letting perfectly good produce go to waste” you think to yourself as you pick up the banana. You go to peel it when suddenly, you feel a sharp shooting pain through your hand. You drop the banana, then fall to your knees. You look around for the wasp or whatever it was that stung you, but you can’t find anything. You collapse in a heap on the ground, unable to control your body. It’s at this point you notice the banana start to move. “Are… are those teeth?” you think to yourself. At this point the venom has taken full effect. You are alone and completely paralyzed, unable to do anything besides observe the banana as it starts moving towards you. Sharp teeth and beady black eyes are fully visible now. It ambles towards you clumsily, moving almost as if it were being controlled by invisible strings like a marionette. It reaches you and starts to chew. It is at this moment that you discover, much to your horror, that the venom is merely a paralytic, and not an anesthetic. Helpless to the venom, you can do nothing but watch as your blood slowly drains out onto the ground as the creature consumes you. Slowly, your vision begins to fade to black. You pass out, either from the pain or the blood loss, you’re not really too sure. You take one last look at the creature, then you’re gone forever.

#biology #evolutionary biology #evolution #bananas #plants #darwin #science #botany #banana #r/196 #196 #r/196archive #/r/196 #rule #meme #memes #shitpost #shitposting #autism #stem #cool #funny #plant #cooking #trees #fruit #unreality #joke #funny shit #funny post

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 200!!!

(huge thanks to this person for the art suggestion!! <3)

I genuinely can’t believe that I’ve made it to 200 days, it’s truly been wild how time flies by like that and the amount of doodles I’ve made during that time. Over 200 doodles (217 to be exact if we’re counting double pictures/extra doodles) have been made over the past 200 days. :0

And thank you all so much for the love and support! Not only have we reached 200 days but also 1400+ followers about a week ago! <3

But, having said that I’d like to make a few announcements—some good, some not so great—about a few things regarding the blog, myself, and other stuff.

Putting it all under the cut so the post isn’t long if you’d like to know more

______________________________

Announcements!

My pfp!

1.) I’ll be changing my pfp again!! I’ve officially decided that after every 100 days or so I’ll change up the pfp so it’s up to date with my doodle style (assuming it changed at all lol), but generally it’ll look relatively the same as the last!

Possibly more admins?

2.) As of right now I’m looking into the idea/possibility of having a second (maybe third?) person help me with daily doodles! As much as I’d like to keep doodling everyday there are some days that it can be tough or some situation might be happening. (i.e. recently got injured)

See, the problem is I don’t exactly have a proper way of trying this out??? My idea was to maybe do this through dms or more preferably Google Forms. I also don’t really know what form of communication afterward would be best either, suggestions to help me work this out would be great! (as you can tell I’m not very good at this stuff lol)

Commissions!

3.) After much consideration and a lot of thought, I’ve decided that in the near future, I’ll be opening commissions again for the first time in years. I don’t have everything set up quite yet, but expect more info in the near future!

About requests:

4.) You may have noticed recently that I haven’t been doing as many doodle requests recently. Sure, there’s usually quite a few in a row at once but you may have noticed I’ve also been doing “non-requested” doodles aka ones that I just do on my own.

Expect this to become a very normal thing going forward. I probably won’t be doing as many requests as before because frankly with the amount of requests I get daily when it’s open is a lot to handle sometimes. Does this mean requests will be stopped entirely? No, I’ll still do some occasionally, but not as much as I have in the past.

Also I’ll likely be doing strictly anonymous requests.

About Burnout:

5.) Alright let’s address the elephant in the room.

There have been quite a few instances where people have wondered if I would ever have burnout and have occasionally joked about “dying” from said burnout because “Silksong will never release, you’ll be doing this forever” etc etc.

In the past I’ve been fine, motivation has been great, but recently I’ve noticed it a little bit.

Unfortunately life has its own plans so it can be a little hard for me to make a doodle that day, expecially recently since I’ve been experiencing personal/medical issues. It’s part of the reason I’m hoping to get a second (maybe third) person to help me do daily doodles so I can take a little bit of the load off my shoulders.

So what does this mean for this blog?

Not much right now. But in the future, there may be some changes. My current plan is to keep going on daily doodles/posts for the length of a standard year, so roughly 365 days. After that, if things in personal life keep up the way they have, I may have to stop daily doodles and instead will post only if I have time. That likely means doodles every other day or every three days or something. At the very least I’ll still post a doodle once a week.

Not to worry though! I’ll still try my best even after I reach day 365 :)

I’ll discuss how things work a little more on my main @miizori later, but that’s as much as I can think to explain rn.

———————————————

Just a few more things I wanted to say!

This community has been so cool to interact with, so much tamer than some others I’ve been apart of in the past. I’m genuinely thankful for how much support and how nice everyone has been. I truly didn’t expect to get this far, I was fully expecting to have stopped like 10 doodles in lol. I especially love to see all your comments in the tags and people sharing their art. You’re all so cool :)))

I have a dtiys from back when I reached 300 followers that’s still available if you’re feeling up to it!

Also my main (again, @miizori) is where I make updates on doodle stuff, regular art stuff and so on if you’re interested at all in that lol

I think that’s all that I can remember wanting to say, so thanks!! I look forward to more doodles for you all :)

#hollow knight #silksong #hk hornet #hollow knight hornet #silksong hornet #hk shade lord #shade lord #hollow knight shade lord #hollow knight fanart #hk fanart #silksongeveryday

[loveforsatoru]

Loved You Then, Love You Now- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Chapter 1: Zenin Clan/Meeting)

TW: drinking, abuse, blood

3/31/07:

It’s pitch black outside. You’re struggling to make your way back to the Zenin estate. You’re coming back from a mission, one that was too difficult for you to handle as a grade 2 sorcerer yet you were forced to go regardless of that.

Growing up in a place as wretched as the Zenin Clan is already draining on its own, but being the sister of Naoya Zenin makes it even worse on top of the fact that you’re not a typical sorcerer. You specialize in the areas of RCT healing and martial arts. But what sets you aside from other healers is you’re able to regenerate larger parts of the body in a shorter amount of time. So naturally, you’re not qualified enough to be sent on missions meant for grades 1 or higher.

The mission went horribly. It was a semi grade 1 cursed spirit lurking in a nearby hospital. You took multiple blows, almost losing consciousness a few times. The only reason you managed to make it out was because you put every last ounce of strength and willpower into a single hit.

You’re almost crawling back to the estate, nearly falling to the ground from how much blood you’re losing, buckets of red staining the surface beneath you. There are numerous open wounds and multiple fractured bones. You’ve used RCT to heal minor injuries, but you’re losing an impeccable amount of blood with a large gash across your stomach, making it difficult to concentrate on healing yourself.

You’re hoping that nobody’s awake at the moment. You would never be able to live this down. You’re already belittled every day by the horrid men you’ve been forced to be around for the last 17 years. Thankfully, your father, Naobito allowed you to enroll to Jujutsu Tech after months of begging. You leave tomorrow.

Much to your demise, the lights in the large mansion are on and shuffling can be heard from the inside.

Your body can’t handle it anymore, you’re starting to see specks of white. Nothing feels real. You can’t even feel the clothes on your body anymore, only the blood soaking through them. You collapse on the grass, lying in a pool of your own blood.

The door is swung open and a voice you know and dread all too well hits your ears.

“You can’t take one simple fucking cursed spirit? You really are useless. I should’ve killed you the moment mom gave birth to you.” That voice only made you shake in fear. You could recognize it from miles away as none other than your nefarious older brother.

You can’t spout back a response, only coughing up blood. His degradation is humiliating. Your heart gets heavier with every word that leaves his mouth. He never fails to make you question your ability as a sorcerer.

He begins walking down the stairs, closer to where you are.

Each sound of his feet slapping against the concrete makes your blood run cold.

No, no, no ,no.

That’s the only thing running through your mind.

“Look at you. Nearly passed out like the weak bitch you are. You're good for nothing. You won’t make it out there.” His tone is piercing, full of disappointment and mockery. He finds it pathetic how hard you try again and again to prove yourself.

He kneels in front of you and grabs an angry fistful of your hair, yanking your head up. You can feel your brain banging against the side of your skull, causing you to groan out in pain.

He’s looking at you with nothing but hatred. He sees you as lower than scum, worthless with no purpose. To him, you’re just a waste of space.

“How can you call yourself a healer but can’t even save yourself? How will you save others? One day, you’ll watch the most important person in your life die right in front of you and it’ll be all your fault. Nobody told you to be fucking useless.”

He spits in your face and slams your head down on the ground which sends a painful shock throughout your entire body.

“Stop, Naoya! Stop it!” Your vocal cords feel like they’re tearing. It’s the first and last thing you’re able to scream at him before coughing up more blood, nearly throwing up your insides.

He releases his grip on your hair and stands up. For a moment, you begin to think he’s finally done tormenting you, but you couldn’t be more wrong. This wasn’t enough for him. He wants to see your soul crush and wither in front of his eyes.

He stares at your helpless body, about to beg him for help because you’re desperate to make it out of this alive, but he doesn’t care. 

“Don’t open your mouth. Nobody’s going to help you. When will you realize you’re not wanted by anyone here? You’re lucky dad is sending you off to that stupid jujutsu school. He probably just wants to get rid of you. The only thing you can do is cook and fold laundry. Even so, you still don’t know your place in the clan or the world. You’re a woman. That’s all you’ll ever be. You won’t be desired for who you are because you're nobody. If you get lucky, a man might keep you around as a house pet to do his chores.”

Disgust, hatred, disappointment, anger.

They’re the only things he’s ever spoken to you with ever since you were little. The older you grew, the more he resented you. The slaps and pinches turned into kicks and blows to the face, smashing your head against the wall whenever he got the chance.

You can’t do anything but stare right back up at him, barely being able to make out the scowled expression on his face due to your hazy vision. Tears spill from your eyes, mixing with the dirt smeared on your cheeks.

He kicks you once.

Twice.

Three times.

Stepping on your broken ribs, he watches your face contort into one of pure pain and misery, unable to cry or shout because your throat is filled with nothing but blood.

“You’d better have your shit packed. I want you out of the house by noon sharp tomorrow. If you aren’t, I’ll make sure the rest of your life is a living hell.” He walks away, slamming the door of the estate, leaving you to rot outside.

He means his words and you know it. There isn’t an ounce of a lie in there.

Your body feels sore all over. There are stabbing sensations, burning, and aches in every part of you. You almost feel disappointed in yourself. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you are useless. Look at you, dissolving in your blood, sweat, and tears.

You push your feeble body off the ground and crawl towards the stairs. Every limb in your body is screaming at you to stop and lay down, but you refuse.

…

After an agonizing 10 minutes, you get to the door. You reach up towards the doorknob and twist it open with your nimble fingers. Instantly, you’re hit with the smell of alcohol. It makes you nauseous and your nose twitches at the strong scent.

You look to your side to find your dad knocked out. There’s beer bottles everywhere, some of it spilling on the floor. He never changes. You doubt he ever will.

You wonder if Naoya’s right. Is your dad sending you to Jujutsu Tech for the sole purpose of getting rid of you? He never particularly expressed any hatred towards you, but he wasn’t there for you either. Everytime Naoya would torment you, your father would simply watch with empty eyes, like the sight of his young daughter being tossed around by her older brother didn’t bother him. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe he was too drunk out of his mind to care. Maybe he just didn’t love you. Naoya is the one he cares about, not you.

Sometimes you wish you could be loved by others too.

Am I unlovable?

You’ve been asking yourself that for as long as you can remember.

You were getting lost in your thoughts, staring at the sight of your passed out drunk father, silently asking him to love you until a sharp pain was felt in your abdomen. You wince out in pain and have to hold back the scream bubbling in your throat.

You’re still laying on the floor in a crawling position when you look back and see the trail of blood from the front door to where you are in the living room.

The sight makes you dizzy, you had never seen or lost so much blood.

You try as hard as you can to make it to the bathroom and when you do, it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

You lean into the bathtub, turning the water on before stripping off your blood soaked clothes. You could wring it out and it’d be enough to fill gallons.

You look in the mirror and examine your body. A gash across your stomach, black eye, bruised lip, cuts and scabs make its way from your head to your toes. You look almost unrecognizable, a whole new person. You’d prefer it if you were. You want to be anyone but yourself right now. It’s pitiful in the worst way possible.

The entire estate is silent, everyone’s asleep. The only sound heard is the water filling up the tub. 

The moonlight directly hits the bathroom window, shining down on your body and highlighting the things you wish you could erase.

The scar Naoya left on your body all those years ago won’t go away no matter how hard you try to remove it from both your body and your memory. It’s imprinted into your skin, a sign of weakness and a constant reminder that your brother never has and never will love you.

*Flashback*

It was the summer of 1995. You were 5 years old, Naoya was 14.

It was hot, too hot to stay inside all day. The sun was shining brightly, illuminating the usually dark mansion. Summer was your favorite season, but now you think, no, you’re sure it’s your least.

Being the naive 5 year old you were, you had the idea to ask your “beloved” older brother to spend some time with you. Nobody else gave you attention. Who in the Zenin Clan would pay attention to the little girl who couldn’t do anything besides heal a couple cuts and small animals? You were too young and dumb to realize Naoya thought the same way.

“Naoya! Naoya! Let’s go play outside!” You eagerly opened his door to find him lying in bed, air conditioner set to the max whilst he aimlessly read a book on how to get stronger.

“No, you’re annoying. Go away.” His response was plain and blunt, but being as persistent as ever, you didn’t give up. You were dying to spend time with someone, talk to someone who wasn’t yourself.

“Please, please, please! It’s so hot outside! We can play with water balloons!”

Your whining and feet stopping on the wooden floor almost made a vein pop out of his head. Everything you did irked him.

“No! Stop talking to me! Go find something else to do with your pathetic life instead of bothering me! Make some fake food in the kitchen. It’s all you’re decent at.”

You grumble and walk further into his room, trying to find a way to get him to change his mind.

He glares at you, unwilling to cooperate or put up with this any longer.

Your stupid big eyes, and short h/c hair that barely passed your shoulders, unknowing to all the shit people said about you to your face and behind your back. You were only a kid, but that didn’t stop them. In their book, if you weren’t strong from birth and/or lacked a “real” cursed technique, you were useless. You, unfortunately fit into those categories.

You were clueless, only staring back at those who dehumanized you with a smile on your face, happy that you were receiving some sort of attention even if it was negative.

You had a doll in one hand and a teacup in the other. You were more than likely playing by yourself in your room before barging into his.

“What are you doing?” He asks, but you don’t respond. You were now sitting on his bed, stirring up a way to convince him into going with you. Bribery? Annoyance? Whining? Nothing would work on him. He was dead set on keeping you away from him as far as possible. So far, he wouldn’t be able to sense your presence within a 15 mile radius.

“Who said you could sit on my bed? Get the hell off!” He pushes you with his foot with enough force to knock you off, landing straight on the floor.

You let out a “hmph” and climb back on, arms folded over your chest.

“Why won’t you just play with me? I wouldn’t be sitting on your bed if you did.” You whined, a big pout replacing your previous expression.

“Because I hate you.” He said the words so casually, his eyes boring into your soul.

You blinked at him, unfamiliar with the newfound feeling of dread and sadness. Instead of just smiling back like you normally would, you began to cry. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, landing onto his bed. Hearing those words come from him hurt more than it did from anyone else. You knew what the word “hate” meant, and having it thrown at you by the one you looked up to most hurt your small, fragile heart.

He didn’t console you, nor did he apologize. Instead, He grabbed your arm and pinched you with all his might, the flesh instantly bruising.

You only continued to cry more, dropping your things on the ground, the teacup shattering as water spilled out and onto his bedroom floor. It made him angrier. He pushed you out of his room and into a glass table in the dining room, shoving you into it. The table broke on impact from the amount of sheer force he was handling you with. A piece got stuck in the area where he pinched you. Blood trickled down your arm as your cries turned into wails. You sat on the floor, surrounded by glass as your high pitched voice could be heard throughout the entire estate, but nobody came to check on you. They didn’t care enough to do so.

You were looking up at Naoya, clutching your arm, expecting an apology, but it never came. He landed a harsh slap across your face before going back into his room.

You sat in disbelief. It was the most hurtful thing anyone did to you.

*End Flashback*

And here you stood, 12 years later, examining that same mark that’s forever ingrained into you.

You hate it, you hate this life, you hate it here, you hate Naoya.

You wish you could crawl out of your skin and bury yourself away in a hole.

The more you look at your face in the mirror, the more distorted your reflection becomes. You’ve lost complete sense of yourself. Who even are you? Can you call yourself a sorcerer? When was the last time you saved someone? Will this twisted fate of being unable to help those around you follow you throughout your life?

You have no one to go to, no one to confide in, no one to open up to. It’s been like this your whole existence. You, alone, isolated. You hope this won’t last forever. You’ll get on your knees and beg the Heavens above to give you some sort of mercy if you have to. Take away your suffering, your pain, the thoughts that consume you entirely from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep. You deserve to get what you want. You crave and desire genuine connection. Someone to love and someone to love you back just as much or maybe even more.

Haven’t you been through enough?

…

You hastily step inside the bathtub, watching as the water turns a shade of red due to the blood seeping from your body.

You skin into the warm water, slightly hissing at the feeling, but your muscles immediately loosen. You let the water envelope you, your head being the only thing above it. 

You trace your fingers over the cuts, some deeper than others. Slowly, you gently run the palm of your hand over your injuries, using RCT to heal yourself.

Negative energy, multiply that against itself, resulting in positive energy. Reverse cursed technique, something not many sorcerers can do. It’s a blessing and a curse.

You stare up at the bathroom ceiling, letting your mind wander to what your life will turn out to be like once you finally make it to Jujutsu Tech tomorrow afternoon. Anything would surely be better than the life you’re currently living.

…

You finish taking your bath, making sure to wash away every grime collected on your body. Quietly, you step out of the shower and dry yourself off before making your way to your room, tip-toeing so as to not wake anyone up. Your dad is still slumped over the kitchen counter and everyone else is in their respective rooms. It’s a miracle nobody had gotten up.

Your room is the furthest down the estate, a deliberate decision made by Naoya to continue your suffrage in the most mundane ways possible. 

Water droplets slide down your body, making contact with the floor.

Drip

Drip

Drip

It was as if any miniscule noise would cause the estate to crumble into nothing.

You pull open the creaky door and hurry inside, quickly closing it. You walk over to your bed and toss your body onto it. A breath of relief escapes your lips the second you make contact with the soft mattress.

You get under the covers, not bothering to fully dry yourself off before drifting into a deep sleep, hoping for a better tomorrow.

4/1/07:

It’s currently 4:36am, the sun is barely out yet. You made sure to get up bright and early in order to catch the first train and to avoid bumping into any of the other Zenin’s.

You’re already dressed, wearing the uniform that came in the mail not too long ago. A perfect fit. Your suitcase is packed and ready to go. You’ve never been happier. It’s the first time in a while you’ve found excitement in your days.

You say goodbye to your room, parting ways with the place you spent most of your time in. Playing dolls, watching movies, talking to yourself, consoling yourself as you cried time and time again.

It’s bittersweet.

But you suck up a breath and make your way out, going down the hall.

All the doors are shut, indicating that everyone is still asleep.

Besides your father who’s waiting at the front door. You can’t decipher the expression on his face. He doesn’t look angry, drunk, or annoyed.

You stand across from him, not knowing what to say. For a second, you’re worried he’s going to stop you from leaving.

You open your mouth, ready to argue with all your might, but his next words surprise you.

“Good luck.” They’re simple, but speak volumes. 

Growing up, you didn’t speak much to your dad. He was either busy or drunk. It didn’t leave much opening to communicate with him. It’s not like he wanted to either. Sometimes, it seemed he’d intentionally avoid you like you were some sort of plague that would infect him if he got too close.

So, standing here, face to face with the man who failed you as a father while he tells you good luck with your new life means more than he’ll know.

You nod, a small smile creeping onto your face as your eyes crinkle the tiniest bit.

He takes a step towards you, patting your shoulder and moving aside from the door, giving you the green light to go on and find yourself in the new world, one where you won’t be abused, belittled, or doubted.

And so you do, running out the door and officially leaving everything in the past.

You take one last look behind you, watching as the scenery gets smaller and smaller, fading away into the distance. One you hope you won’t ever have to come back to.

Your smile grows wider as the sounds of the wheels on your luggage rolling against the concrete fills your ears. Another reminder that this is reality and not a dream you’ll have to eventually wake up from.

You navigate the streets of Tokyo, not as busy as they normally would be due to your early rising.

You head towards the train station, waiting for the train to arrive.

To get from Koganei to Jujutsu Tech takes about 2 hours. Despite both locations being in Tokyo, you’ve heard the school is in the far outskirts, surrounded by trees and mountains.

The thought of it all is enough to make your adrenaline rush and heart pump with anticipation.

…

After impatiently waiting for 30 minutes, the train finally arrives and you’re the first to get on, grabbing a seat in the far back of the train.

It’s pretty much empty aside from 2 boys wearing the same uniform who look to be about a year younger than you. One had blonde hair, keeping a stoic demeanor while the other was the complete opposite. Brown hair with the widest smile as he rambles on to the other boy.

You pay no mind, not wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Instead, you put in your headphones and decide to listen to music on the way there. There’s not much else to do.

…

The train is silent for the most part aside from the occasional blabber and laughter coming from the brown haired boy from earlier. You could hear him through your headphones, but you couldn’t be bothered since you were nearly dozing off, eyelids threatening to shut. You didn’t get much sleep last night. Three hours at most.

Right when you fully slumped against the seat, taking in a breath and closing your eyes, you felt something or rather, someone poking you.

You take out an earbud and to no surprise, it’s the same boy. He’s made himself comfortable next to you while the blonde one reads a book, seemingly wanting to be left in peace.

“Hi!” He beams, his cheery voice echoing throughout the train.

“Hello?” You reply, slightly confused at his antics.

“I noticed we’re heading to the same place and was wondering if you wanted to sit with us! My name is Yu Haibara and that one over there is Nanami! But he’s rather grumpy today.” He leaned in closer and whispered the last part, thinking he was being discrete, but even his whispers were loud and full of energy, earning a groan from the blonde who you’ve discovered goes by Nanami.

You let out a chuckle at his excitement to be talking to a stranger on a train.

“My name's y/n.” You smile and hold out your hand which he happily shakes.

“Cool! What year are you going into?”

“Third.” You reply, holding up a 3 with your fingers.

“Aw, that's a bummer. We’re first years.” You watch as his expression quickly falls into a frown, disappointed that he won’t be in the same grade as the pretty girl he met only 5 minutes ago.

“It’s okay, I’m sure we’ll see each other around!” You give him a thumbs up in which he blushes and reciprocates. Nanami pays no attention to either of you, immersed in whatever he’s reading.

The train suddenly comes to a stop and you look out the window, your eyes glimmering at the sight. It’s beautiful. You’ve never seen trees this green or mountains this huge. It’s not like you ever went outside the central city anyway unless it were for a mission. Even then, nothing compared to this.

You hurriedly rush out of the train and Haibara follows fast behind while Nanami takes his time.

“Wow! This is great! But how do we get to the school building?” You ask, confusion laced in your tone. Is there another bus?

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe we’re supposed to wait down here until a teacher gets us?”

You both stand there like idiots, hands on your hips as you examine the unfamiliar area, pondering on how you’re possibly going to get to your desired destination.

Nanami sighs and rolls his eyes, in disbelief at how two teenagers could be so senseless.

“We clearly have to walk up it.”

You and Haibara let out dramatic gasps, hands slapped over your foreheads.

“Are you kidding me?!” You’re exasperated. You figured that coming to a fancy, rich, Jujutsu Tech school meant you’d have some sort of transportation to get up there.

“Yeah, that’s way too much!” Haibara pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, but Nanami is already too far ahead to hear either of you complain. He thinks he’s gonna die if he has to listen to you two talk any longer.

You and Haibara both give each other a look, shaking your heads in disappointment before following behind Nanami, running as fast as you can before he gets too far ahead. You’d definitely lose yourself trying to get around this place.

…

You and Haibara are practically panting the more you walk up the bone killing mountains while Nanami barely breaks a sweat.

“How is he able to be so composed?” You ask yourself.

Thankfully, the three of you made it after not much longer. Your jaw drops at how nice the campus is. It’s even better than you could've imagine.

Gawking over the gorgeous architecture, you see three other students out in the distance. Haibara wastes no time running up to them, introducing himself like he did with you.

You quietly follow him, curious to meet the other students.

There’s a girl with short brown hair and a cigarette in between her lips, a beauty mark nicely decorates her cheek. She’s talking to two other boys who seem to be arguing over something.

“I'm saying you need to be more humble and polite. You haven’t even greeted the new students yet.” The quiet voice came from one of the two boys. He has sleek black hair and a liquid smooth tone.

“Huh?! What are you talking about? Let loose a little. It won't kill you.”

The moment you look up to see who was speaking, heat rushes into your cheeks. Fluffy white hair, the most sparkling blue eyes, a jaw sharp enough to cut paper and beautifully striking features. His eyes are so captivating. It’s like you’re standing in the presence of an angel.

“Hello? Helloooo?” The white haired boy is directly in front of your face, leaning down to make direct eye level contact with you.

“Are you there? Cat got your tongue?” He teases before stepping back, giving you some room to breathe.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous.” You breathe out, a shaky chuckle escaping your lips.

“Nervous, yeah? Why?” The same one replies, taking out a piece of chocolate from his pocket and plopping it in his mouth.

The black haired boy chimes in. “Don’t listen to him. There’s no need to be nervous. I’m assuming you’re a first year?"

“No.. I’m a third year.” You stammer over your words, nearly choking on your own saliva. You were never the type to get butterflies around guys, but this is unreal.

You watch as both men quirk their eyebrows, surprised at your answer.

“Third year? That means you’re with us. I’m Suguru, this is Satoru, and she’s Shoko.” What an attractive friend group. It seems like they’ve known each other for a while.

“I’m y/n..”

“Y/n. A pretty name for an even prettier girl. Since it’s your first time here, we’ll give you a tour.” Satoru says, giving you a wink as his lips curl into a charming smirk.

You look around and see that Haibara’s nowhere to be found. You were at least comfortable with him. Now, you’re stuck with people you can hardly speak around, including a freakishly handsome blue eyed boy who, unknowingly to you, has had his sights on you from the moment you made your way up the mountain.

Little does he know, his best friend has the same intentions.

#gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #jjk angst #rambles #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #geto x reader #suguru x reader

[tomriddleslove]

Pt 3 - Always.

Theodore Nott x Reader

Pt 2 here

Summary: The one where the anticipated week long holiday between the friendship group turns into a certified nightmare. Alternatively: You accidentally end up rooming with Theodore.

A/N: WE’VE ENTERED THE HOLIDAY PART AND I CANT WAIT FOR WHERE THIS IS GOING TO GO WOOOOHHH

I promise the angst will eventually subside (eventually.)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Songs: I know you - Faye Webster

I wait for you - Alex G

By some miracle, you had all managed to get through the weeks leading up to the summer holidays and were due to travel to Pansy’s family home today. The monotony of pouring over books, frantically rummaging through essays you had written on scrolls of parchment looking for your notes had finally paid off, and exams were done. Pansy had been raving on and on about just how beautiful the quaint villa was (which seemed to be a bit of a juxtaposition) , and how they'd all have a great time. Whilst you did look forward to it, you were reminded of who would be there.

Theodore.

After that conversation in the library, things had gone from worse to even worse. In some cruel twist of fate, you seemed to see Theodore everywhere now, yet his increased presence seemed only to solidify just how much of a gap there was between the two of you.

Spending a week together both seemed terrifying and cruelly humorous. A kind of plot from a shitty rom-com, though you doubted it would turn out for the better.

The once lively (arguably messy) dorm room you shared with Pansy was now barren and bare, your belongings packed away as you waited for Pansy to finish…

Tapping the walls?

“Pans, what on earth are you doing?” You ask, and she continues knocking on random places on the wall, letting out a groan of frustration.

“I swear I had it hidden somewhere! I refuse to let some snotty little 6th-year find it.” She grumbles.

“What the fuck are you looking for? Maybe if you told me it would be a bit easier.” You respond exasperatedly, nearing your wits ends.

“My weed! I kept a stash hidden somewhere when we first came but I've been leeching off Enzo! Now I can't find it!” She huffs, throwing her arms up exasperatedly. You roll your eyes and resist the urge to slap her upside the back of her head.

“You idiot, I packed that away.” You snap, and she furrows her brows.

“What? When?” She says, and you begin to wonder whether you should even bother.

“Merlin Pansy, is your memory that bad? You asked me to take it.” You chide. Her look of confusion merges into a sheepish smile.

“Oh… Thanks!” She says, beaming as she slings her bag over her shoulder.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time as you lug your bags downstairs.

“Finally.” Draco proclaimed, ushering the attention of the group as they looked up to see you and Pansy descending. Blaise immediately goes over to take Pansy's suitcase, and she looks up at him with a bashful smile.

Woah.

What?

You raise a brow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. Lorenzo comes over to help you with your trunks, and he leans closer to you.

“You're seeing it too, right? Smitten with one another.” He whispers.

“Since when? She was flirting with Belby about a week or so ago.” you say, raising a brown.

“Exactly. Notice how Blaise wasn't there? He left for a reason.” Lorenzo gushes, as though you both were 12 and at a sleepover. You giggle lightly.

“Wanna bet on when they'll get together?” You offer, and Lorenzo nods.

“Easy. They're both too damn stubborn to confess so I bet it’ll be after the trip.” He says.

You let out a loud laugh, and they all turn to look at you and Lorenzo. Pansy raises a brow, but you're looking elsewhere. Theodore looks over at you, and how Lorenzo is leaning close to you. He has to tear his eyes away, and he swallows harshly.

It was incredible how one person could change your mood so quickly.

Stupid, really, just how much one person could affect you. You clear your throat and turn back to Lorenzo.

“I bet they'll get together during the trip. 5 Galleons?” You ask, holding out your hand. Lorenzo eyes you suspiciously, then shakes your hand.

“Deal.” He says, and a wicked grin graces your face.

“Great. That means I can do this then.” You say, walking over to Pansy and Blaise.

“Pans, can you be a dear for me? I want to room with Lorenzo, so can you room with Blaise instead please?” You plead.

Blaise raises a brow and Pansy looks at you with a pointed glare

You were helping her (and perhaps yourself).

“Isn’t Loren-” Blaise starts but you quickly cut him off.

“Please, pansy?” You say, your voice strained. You really wanted those 5 galleons. Pansy is nervous but somehow also, you can tell she’s excited. You're probing her onwards, and with a shy smile (Once again, so out of character for her), she accepts.

“Alright- only if you don't mind, Blaise?” She says, looking up at him.

He grins as he looks down at her and you watch the two with an amused look on your face.

Hopeless, really. You give it a day or two before they're together.

“Of course.” He agreed.

Damn, you were good. With a cheeky grin, you turn back to Lorenzo and wiggle your eyebrows. You had the win in the bag. You leave the two and walk back to Lorenzo, grinning as you approach him.

“Don't hate the player, hate the game” You brag, and Lorenzo has to suppress a smile.

“Good Job. You forgot one thing though, sweetheart. I’m sharing a room with Mattheo.” Lorenzo quips, and your expression drops.

“What? Pansy said-” You protest, and Lorenzo laughed.

“Yeah, originally I was sharing a room with Draco. But Draco demanded his own room because he refused to share and Mattheo ended up with me instead.” He continues.

It takes a second for the gears in your head to turn, and then you realise.

If there are 4 bedrooms, and Blaise and Pansy are in one, Mattheo and Lorenzo in the other, Draco on his own in the third, that leaves you and...

Theodore.

You were going to strangle the life out of the greasy blonde-haired git. Damn him and his scrawny little princess ass.

You suddenly feel very sick. Perhaps you should stay in Hogwarts. Summer with Snape sounds riveting now, doesn't it?

You take a deep breath, trying to hide your disappointment, but Lorenzo sees right through you and bursts into laughter.

"Looks like the game just got a whole lot more interesting, huh?" he teases, patting you on the back. You shoot him a mock glare, but inside, you're already plotting how you’ll get through this.

May the heavens above help you.

As you stood outside the, admittedly stunning villa, you began to wonder whether you could brave sleeping outdoors for a week. The old French villa stands gracefully amidst lush gardens and towering trees, exuding an air of timeless elegance. Its weathered façade is adorned with intricate wrought-iron balconies and climbing vines. A cobbled pathway leads to an arched entrance adorned with a rustic wooden door. The entrance is flanked by tall windows with faded shutters, each window framed by ornate carvings that add a touch of sophistication.

As you step inside, the foyer unfolds, grand and established. A winding staircase leads upwards, and you can't even begin to imagine how damn expensive this place was.

The rooms are filled with antique furniture and large windows adorned with heavy curtains that allow dappled sunlight to filter through, casting a warm glow on the Persian rugs that cover the floor.

Nevermind. You could tolerate it.

The group of you stand in the foyer, looking around.

“Well shit…” Mattheo murmurs under his breath, looking around. You agree with him. You couldn't even begin to comprehend how wealthy your friends were. It felt almost alienating, somehow. The rest of them seemed accustomed to such luxuries, it seemed only Mattheo and yourself weren't.

“Right. There are two en suites and two regular rooms. Blaise and I will have the first ensuite, and You and Theodore get the other. It's all the way on the top floor.” Pnays says, and you nod, insides churning at the reminder of having to share a room with Theodore. You don't even turn to look at him.

“How come you two get en suites?” Mattheo complains, and Pansy turns to him, rolling her eyes.

“Because you dimwit, we need privacy for changing. We can't exactly just strip naked in front of Blaise and Theodore.” Pansy pointed out, motioning between yourself and her.

You loved Pansy, you really did, but why did she have to word it like that? You groan internally, shaking your head.

“I'm sure they'll be doing it anyway..” Lorenzo mumbles to you, and you snicker as you look over at Blaise and Pansy. Agreeing to meet downstairs in an hour to order food, you all make your way up to your respective rooms.

You hurl your suitcase up the steps, hyper-aware of Theodore walking just behind you. You climb up the first set of stairs and look up. A solid three more sets to go.

What the hell? 4 floors and 4 bedrooms? What kind of architectural fuck up was this? It seemed now like you had bricks in your bag because the task of getting up those remaining three flights of stairs seemed near impossible.

You pulled out of your mini crisis embarrassingly quick as fingers brushed against yours. You spin around, spotting Theodore. He's reaching down for your bag, and he looks up, eyes meeting yours.

You hated him.

You loved him.

You loathed him.

You didn't know which one mattered more.

“Let me take it.” He offers, clearing his throat, and suddenly you've lost the ability to speak.

You nod in agreement, too caught off guard by the unexpected gesture to form coherent words. Theodore effortlessly lifts the suitcase as if it were weightless, and you watch the play of muscles beneath his shirt as he ascends the staircase with ease.

You berate yourself for being so shameless.

You follow him, trying to shake off the strange mix of emotions swirling within you. Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you reach the landing, now standing just outside the door of your shared room.

"Thanks," you manage to mumble, avoiding eye contact as Theodore sets your suitcase down inside the room. He nods in acknowledgement, his expression unreadable.

As you enter the room, you're greeted by a quaint and cosy little room. Luckily, there are two separate beds, though they are pushed together to form one larger one. You'll be sure to move them apart.

Theodore clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I guess this is our room for the trip," he remarks, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah," you reply, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The air between you two is charged with unspoken tension, and the weight of the realisation settles in. Fate, it seems, had a peculiar sense of humour.

"Listen, about earlier," Theodore starts, his gaze searching yours, but you cut him off swiftly.

“Don’t. There's nothing to talk about.” You say, brushing past him as you walk into the room. You have your back faced to him, face bright red as you begin unpacking, actions more forceful than you intended them to be.

Theodore remains silent for a moment, respecting your need for space. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you as you unpack, each movement deliberate and almost aggressive.

You hear Theodore take a deep breath behind you, and then he speaks, his voice breaking, tinged with an underlying vulnerability. "Please. Just, look at me." He pleads.

You clench your jaw, your hands gripping the edges of your suitcase. You turn around, meeting his gaze with a steely expression.

You swear your heart breaks. He’s frowning, and he looks on the verge of tears.

Stupid. This was so, so stupid.

“Look. Nothing is going on. Nothing happened, ok? I'm fine.” You say, though it's a blatant lie. You grab your sweater and book, considering pushing past him again on your way out as you speak.

You don't want to carry on like this. It hurt.

“Yeah, sure," Theodore replies, his voice now strained and forced into an artificial calm. "Nothing happened."

You want to believe it, to believe that you can bury the complicated mess of emotions that surged to the surface earlier. As you step into the hallway, you take a deep breath, plastering a fake smile on your face.

Theodore follows suit, and together you make your way downstairs to join the others. The air is thick with tension, but the group seems oblivious, immersed in arguments over food.

Pansy looks at you curiously, her keen eyes noting the shift in dynamics, but she chooses not to pry. Blaise seems absorbed in his thoughts, Lorenzo is engaged in animated conversation with Mattheo, and Draco appears indifferent to the subtle changes in the atmosphere.

No one notices anything, and you're very convinced it's because nothing really existed in the first place. You walk over to where Matteho is sitting on the sofa and take a seat next to him. He wraps an arm around you, drawing you in close as he continues speaking to Lorenzo.

“Hey, stimp.” Mattheo says, rubbing your arm as he looks down at you.

Sidenote: The nickname stimp originated from when Pansy had gone through a phase of calling everyone ‘stink’. You had no idea what she was saying and thought she was calling everyone stimp. You were relentlessly tormented by the group for thinking so, and it's stuck since then (courtesy of Mattheo.)

“Hey.” You mumble into his chest. He chuckles, fiddling with your hair lightly as he goes back to his conversation with Lorenzo.

Your mind (as it so often did) lingers back to Theodore. Your stomach aches because of it.

He's a tempest, a tempest that lingers in the recesses of your soul, tearing through the tranquillity with an unrelenting force.

You're weary, though these past few days with Theodore have made you constantly feel that way. You become tuned out from the conversations of your friends, feeling oddly like a spectator.

Your eyes grow heavy, and whether it's to your dismay or relief, you fall asleep with Theodore on your mind.

You could have sworn you fell asleep in the living room, curled into Mattheo. So when your eyes flicker open, and you're blinking wearily, sitting up in your bed, you're heavily disoriented.

A sleepy groan escapes your lips as you gingerly sit up, looking around. Theodore is lying in his bed, and you're very quickly aware of the fact that he separated them.

His eyes flicker over to yours at the sound of you stirring, a book loosely held in his hands.

Your eyes flicker down to the cover of the book and you're surprised at how quickly you feel sick again. It was getting rather tiring, really.

How long was he reading for? Was he thinking of you as he read? Did he read and look over at you?

“I saved some food for you.” He says after a beat. He looks at you, as though he wants to say more, and you see the conflict in his mind. He looks back down, and you feel slightly disappointed.

“Thanks.” You croak quietly, gingerly slipping out of bed. You sit on the edge for a second, back facing Theodore as you orient yourself for a bit before you slide on some slippers. You yawn and get up, tossing the covers back as you make your way downstairs. You blindly grope the walls as you warily descend the stairs in the pitch-black darkness, praying you didn't send yourself tumbling down.

Your fingers brush against a light switch and you let out a small sigh of relief as you flick the lights on.

God, how late was it?

You finally manage to stumble into the kitchen, the warm lights illuminating the otherwise barren place. The house is silent, and you assume it must be very late, judging by the way your friends (who almost exclusively lived between the hours of 11:00 - 02:00) were not awake. You shouldn't be eating at this time, especially because you planned to sleep right after, but you were starving and hadn't eaten prior.

You open what you assume to be the fridge (because god forbid rich people be like the rest of us and have normal-looking things), and see two small containers and a pizza box. You're impressed Draco (who though incredibly slender seemed to have the appetite of a growing giant) hadn't eaten it yet. You open the pizza box first and feel immediately better when you see the order. It's exactly what you like, there's garlic butter on the crust, and olives on every slice. There are tomatoes but it's on the side because you hate cooked tomatoes, and there's your favourite sauce as well (Blaise almost cried bloody murder when he saw you dipping your pizza in mayo a few years ago. You swore it was good.)

With a small smile on your face, you peer into the other two containers. One is full of strawberries, and your mouth waters.

You absolutely adored strawberries, and these looked plump and fresh, a far cry from the sad little things you'd get in Hogsmeade, on rare occasions. You can't resist biting into one and letting out a small groan of satisfaction as you do.

This had to be what heaven felt like, surely. You swore these alone could make you ascend. You pull out the container and snack on some, looking up as you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Pansy yawns as she saunters into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She's evidently sleepy, reaching for a glass of water as she speaks.

“You're finally up.” She mumbles groggily, leaning against the counter.

You nod.

“Woke up a few minutes ago. Thank you for ordering some pizza for me. You got it spot on.” You say with a small smile, and Pansy dismisses you with a small flick of her hand, as she sets the glass down.

“Oh no no, it wasn't me. We all ordered some sushi because Blaise knew a place. Theodore went out and got all that for you. He disappeared for like three bloody hours and we thought he got kidnapped or something. Turns out it’s very hard to find a good pizza place here.” Pansy says.

You blink in surprise at Pansy’s revelation. You have to stop yourself from dropping your jaw because you couldn't deal with her question right now, especially because…

What the fuck?

Why? How?

Why?

You can barely comprehend Theodore could remember all those things about you. Little things that you yourself wouldn't even notice. By the looks of it even your closest friend, Pansy, didn't even know that.

He went out of his way to get that for you?

It's an odd mixture of emotions — appreciation, confusion, and a tinge of frustration. Frustration because he was being so damn confusing. Ignoring you but then knowing everything about you. Not talking to you and then confessing he's been searching for you in everything he does. Remaining distant but doing things that made your heart flutter and guilt flood your being.

Pansy is watching you intently, ever observant. She gives you a once over, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

“Night then.” She says, turning back to go to her room.

Even Pansy, who was ever known for being careless and prying, knew right now that this was something that went so much further than her best friend having a silly crush on someone. She didn’t need to know the history between you and Theodore to know this was something serious, and her reserved and understanding behaviour only seemed to scare you more. You remain staring off for a second as she retreats before you close the container, slipping it back into the fridge

(You'd hex Draco's teeth onto his toes if he dared to touch them.)

You make your way back up to your room, and by the time you enter Theodore is no longer reading, rather he's asleep in his bed.

His bedside lamp is off, but yours is on. You look at him for a second, and you're grateful that he's asleep because you didn't know what to say, or how to face him. You quietly retreat into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth before slipping back into the bedroom. You slip under the covers of your bed, tugging the blanket over you as you sink into the infuriatingly comfy mattress (How you'd be able to find sleep again back at Hogwarts after this, you never knew. This made your dorm bed feel like you were sleeping on a slab of concrete. If this home isn't being used by Pansy and her family till the holiday, you seriously considered breaking in and living here in the meantime.)

You and Theo are sleeping on opposite sides of the room, backs facing away from one another. Your bed is facing the window, which you're glad about because you couldn't sleep otherwise. A small voice in your mind questions if that was Theodore’s doing as well.

The silence is broken as you speak, words you only dare to utter because Theodore is asleep.

“Thank you.” You whisper, quietly.

Silence follows, and you let out a small breath because, of course, there's silence, Theodore is asleep. You find your own eyes drifting shut very quickly, slipping away into sleep.

You feel as though you're sinking, and you can't tell if it's because you're tired or spiralling.

In the quiet darkness, you find yourself teetering on the cusp of sleep. You're in that nearly there phase, where you feel simultaneously weightless and heavy. You're half-conscious, dreams blurring the line of reality. You're drifting away, and you swear you hear a whisper, gentle and barely audible in a voice that sounds very similar to Theodore.

"Always."

@camille-1019

#harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #theo #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott angst #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson

[guinea-pig16]

Late Night || Part 1

Glamrock Freddy x Reader

Disclaimer: This is an NSFW piece! 18+ only, please!

Fic is below the cut! Please enjoy! This is my first ever written fiction as well as nsfw, so I hope you like it!

Part 2 is now out! Read here!

Part 3 is out now! Read here!

Part 4 is out now! Read here!

______________________________________________________________

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: slow burn (takes a bit to get to the actual smut) AFAB reader, slight dom/sub vibes, usage of pet names (once), praises, awkwardness, handjob, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, a bit of pining

______________________________________________________________

Late.

That’s the only thought that went through your mind at this point.

It was late. The shitty Fazbear brand digital clock you had sitting on your desk read 1:02 AM. You didn’t mean to stay this late, but when you came in for your afternoon shift at 5 today, everything in the entire PizzaPlex decided to break. As the singular mechanic/engineer that day, you got stuck fixing every arcade machine, photo booth, and any and everything that croaked throughout the day. And after doing all that, you still had to do the required monthly maintenance on the star animatronics of the PizzaPlex. It’s not that you minded working with them, that's what you went to school to do! It’s just tedious and takes longer than needed because of all their parts. Though, you could hardly call the job dull when you had such fun ‘coworkers’.

Chica was in general fun to be around, bubbly as can be with plenty of silly gossip to chat about. Roxy really just talks about herself and tries to get you to change her hair color, nails, accessories, etcetera, claiming it will make her even cooler. Monty enjoys suggestive humor that will either have you doubled over with stitches or so horrible that it’ll have you kicking him out of your workshop faster than he can say “rock n’ roll”. 

And then there's Freddy… The face of Fazbear Entertainment. He was the whole reason you decided to go into robotics. Your first day on the job he immediately made you feel at home, with his warm smile and caring attitude. The two of you had clicked the moment you began talking. As soon as you walk through the doors at the beginning of your shift, he was by your side, asking about your day, eagerly listening to your stories, and nodding empathically to your complaints. It felt as though Freddy and you had known one another for years.

Your checkups with him always ended up being hours longer than normal, the two of you laughing and talking about who knows what. You had to admit, recently being around Freddy has made your heart flutter, your cheeks flush, and your stomach fill with butterflies. You’d felt this way before with others, but never to the degree you do with him. But it’d never work out. He was an animatronic. You highly doubted he could even feel the same way. You didn’t want to find out and risk getting hurt, so you were content with the way things are, being his friend and mechanic.

You tiredly replaced your tools from the checkup with Monty, his laughter after you kicked him out still ringing in your ears. The bastard got on your nerves faster than usual thanks to your tired state, so as soon as you gave him the green light for ‘all good’ you shoved his metal ass out of Parts and Service with the promise of replacing his voice box with a squeaky toy if he continued messing with you. 

You huffed a laugh as you recalled one of his quips as you checked your to-do list. Your eyes lit up and heart fluttered as you saw the last thing on your list.

Routine Maintenance on Freddy Fazbear

“Superstar! How wonderful to see you! Monty let me know you were ready! I thought I would save you the trouble of calling for me.”

Speak of the devil, You thought as you turned with a smile. 

Freddy beamed at you as he walked through the door and stood patiently next to the entrance of the ‘operating cylinder’, hands behind his back.

“Hey Fredster, just gimme a sec and we’ll get started.”

He gave you a polite nod and smile. You grabbed your tool kit (decorated with various stickers Chica had slapped on without you knowing), and a worn-out rolly chair to sit on while working. You rolled the chair in front of the cylinder door and quickly punched in the entry code on the computer next to the door. 

The door slid open and Hand-Unit welcomed you for the 3rd time tonight. “After you.” You said as you bowed deeply and gestured to the interior of the cylinder.

Freddy let out a chuckle and walked in and sat on the maintenance table, you following with your rolly chair and tool kit. Freddy turned to you and opened his mouth to speak, but then immediately frowned as he properly looked at your face.

“My goodness superstar, you look exhausted! Are you alright? Have you been getting enough sleep?” He said, concerned. His hand twitched towards you as if he’d reach for your face. You wrote it off as a minor movement glitch.

You shrugged and sat your tool kit on a table next to Freddy and sat down on your chair. “Ah, I’m fine. I just had a lot to do today, no biggie!” You smiled at him.

He didn’t look too convinced and opened his mouth once more, most likely to scold you for not taking care of yourself, when you cut him off. “Hey, how’d you run into Monty so fast? He’d hardly been gone 2 minutes before you showed up?”

Freddy froze a moment and looked as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ah… well… I just so happened to be… taking a stroll nearby…” He twiddled his thumbs a bit and looked to the side. 

Cute, You thought as you chuckled and opened your toolkit. “Yeah, suuuure… Freddy Fazbear taking a midnight stroll next to Parts and Service. I believe it.” You turned back to Freddy, who seemed to be very interested in the floor. “Right, let’s get started. Lay down for me and I’ll check your chest compartment.”

Freddy obliged and as soon as he seemed settled, you took one of your tools and gently pried open his chest plate. You began to inspect his gears, wires, etcetera. As you worked, a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as you focused.

“I apologize for interrupting your focus, but I have been wondering something.” Freddy asked out of the blue. You hummed in response and moved to look him in the eyes. Freddy was already looking at you, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Monty said you had kicked him out? I was curious to know what he did to cause you to take such measures.” You grinned and let out a laugh as you turned back to his chest cavity.

“Hah! Ahh, the jerk was getting on my nerves. As you can see, I’m pretty tired, so I wasn’t necessarily in the mood for him. Monty, of course, took notice of that, and decided it’d be a great time to start flirting and making dirty jokes. He kept saying crap like ‘he knew something that’d perk me right up’, while gesturing to his crotch.” You glanced at Freddy’s face and saw he looked a bit… upset? “Ah, don’t worry! He wasn’t making me uncomfortable, I thought it was pretty funny, I just wasn’t in the mood for his shit. Besides… it’s not like he even has a dick to begin with…” You trail off as you see a loose wire in his chest. As you fix it, Freddy remains quiet for a moment.

“We do have one. If you were… wondering…” Freddy says after a couple minutes of silence. 

You freeze a moment, allowing Freddy’s words to properly process. Slowly, you lean back from his chest cavity in order to properly look at him, disbelief covering your face. 

“What.”

Freddy is now looking anywhere but you. You swear, if animatronics could blush, he would be beet red. You can hear his internal fan kick in.

“Freddy. You guys have a… No. No way. You’re just messing with me.” You say, still in disbelief, as you close up his chest plate so you can more properly speak with him.

He sits up and rests on his forearms, still avoiding eye contact. “...We do have one… Well, at least Monty and I do. I am unsure about Chica and Roxanne, I have not asked, as it is rather… inappropriate.” He appears even more nervous and embarrassed now. 

You are still in shock. Freddy and Monty, have dicks. There’s no fucking way. Before and after you got this position you poured over all the animatronics’ blueprints, maintenance logs, watched all the shittily made mechanic videos the higher-ups gave you, nothing said they even have the capability of having a penis. As you process this new revelation, some impure thoughts begin to arise…

FREDDY HAS A DICK. Oh my fucking God. Who the fuck thought of giving him one? …I wonder how big it is- SHUT UP OH MY GOD. This isn’t real, oh my God. He has to be joking, he passed by Monty, he must’ve set him up for this joke. No, that isn’t like Freddy to go along with a joke like this… I wonder if he’s touched himself before- I NEED TO STOP OH MY GOD HE’S LITERALLY SITTING RIGHT THERE. He’s my friend I need to stop- You’re suddenly shaken from your frantic thoughts by a large hand on your shoulder.

You jump slightly, a faint blush dusted across your cheeks. You look Freddy in the eyes, who appears even more embarrassed, and a bit regretful.

“I am terribly sorry Y/N, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I am terribly sorry… Please forgive me.” He said, moving his hand from your shoulder to rest it on your hand. “I… I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

Hearing that, you quickly hold his hand with both hands. “No! No no no! You didn’t make me uncomfortable! I just… I-I didn’t think it was even possible for you guys to have one! I mean, I’ve looked over your blueprints hundreds of times, reviewed every single maintenance log, everything! And nothing said anything about you having a, uh, penis…” You break eye contact to look at the ground, unable to look him in the eye, your face growing ever more red.

“W-Well fantastic superstar! I was worried for a moment that I had scared you away, haha…!” Freddy said, gently holding your hands, also avoiding eye contact. 

A moment of awkward silence ensues, the only sound heard being your beating heart and his cooling fan frantically whirring. 

“Can… Can I see it…?” You say quietly, slightly hoping he wouldn’t hear you (which is stupid, since he can pick up the tiniest sounds). 

His head whips to face you so fast you worry for a moment he’d break something. His eyes burn into yours as you hear his cooling fan kick up a notch.

God, why’d you have to say something?

“You- you what? You want to… see my…?” Freddy stutters. If he were a person, you swear he’d be sweating by now.

“Sorry! Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that! I’m just…” God how do you even respond to that!? You just asked if you could see his dick! Family-friendly Freddy Fazbear! Your friend! You want to sink into the ground right now. Your face is on fire now. Maybe you’ve gone delirious because of how tired you are.

A moment of silence passes, again, as Freddy stares at you and you stare anywhere but him. 

“Alright.” Now it’s your turn to whip your head to look at him. Freddy appears more relaxed now, although still sheepish. 

“Uh… really? Y-You don’t have to-” 

“I don’t mind. Besides, this is all a part of the… checkup, right?” He says, his eyes twinkling with something as he looks at you, a small smile on his face.

You swallow a bit, heart fluttering with anticipation. “...Right. Right, yeah, of course!”

Freddy removes his hand from your grasp and sits up fully now. You hear a small latch sound and look toward his pelvis to see the plate there slide to the side to reveal what's beneath. With fascination and nervousness, you watch as a rounded cylindrical object rises from his pelvis. It’s quite large, maybe 7 inches tall, and wide. It’s plain orange, with a red tip. 

You stare at it in fascination and awe. 

Who the fuck decided to give Freddy a big dick? 

You look back at Freddy, who appears nervous again. “...May I… touch it…?” You ask, a bit more confidently now. 

Freddy’s eyes shoot to yours, and you swear you saw him shudder for a split second. He nods silently, intently watching your every movement.

Tearing your eyes away from Freddy, you move one of your hands to his… manhood? Honestly, you’re not entirely sure what to call it. Your fingers gently run up his cock to the tip. Freddy shivers more noticeably now, and slightly opens his mouth. 

It feels smooth and soft. If you had to guess it, it’s made from a type of silicone. You wrap a hand around the base of it, and squeeze slightly to try and get more of a feel of how it’s made. Freddy jolts a bit and lets out a breath, his eyes lidded and looking at you.

“S-Sorry… did that hurt…?” You stutter out, worried you’d caused him discomfort. 

Freddy quickly shakes his head no, his cooling fans whirring loudly. “Please… keep going…” He mumbles, gazing at you.

You flush more, and then begin gently running your hand up and down his cock. Freddy never breaks eye contact with you, his eyes half-closed now. His breath becomes labored and he grips the table. 

“...Faster… please…” He says quietly. You shiver hearing him sound so… needy. You decide you’d like to have a bit more… fun.

You smile sweetly at Freddy. “I’m sorry Freddy… I didn’t quite hear that… Could you say it again?” Your hand comes to a halt, and Freddy whines at the loss of friction.

“...Please… Go faster, Y/N…” He pleads, staring at you with lustful eyes. Your face flushes a deeper red as you smile.

“...Good boy…” He lets out a small moan when you call him that, the sound going straight to your core. You rub his cock faster, causing Freddy to let out small groans and grip the table even harder.

As you watch him moan and twitch under your grasp, an idea forms in your head. You smirk and stop all movement, causing Freddy and whine and look at you.

“...Why did you stop…?” He pants. 

“Oh, I just… have a better idea… If you don’t mind me trying it, that is.” You say, moving your head closer to his cock. 

You blush harder under his intense gaze. You hesitantly, stick your tongue out and lick the tip of his cock. 

At this small action, his whole body jolts and he lets loose groan. You smile, and then run your tongue up and down his cock. He grips the table so hard you know there will be dents later.

“Superstar… you’re, ah- making me feel so… good- ah!” He moans as you begin to put his cock in your mouth. He fully lays back on the table, moaning at every bob of your head.

Because of his size, you’re unable to fit all of him in your mouth, so using one of your hands you cover the part you’re unable to fit. You start slowly, bobbing your head up and down, enjoying the sounds of Freddy groaning. You then begin to quicken your pace, going slightly faster and faster, his moans becoming more frequent as he leans up to gaze at you.

Then, you accidentally take him in too far, causing you to gag a bit. Hearing this, it’s almost as if a switch has been flipped. Freddy’s hands fly to your head and force you to bob your head at a much faster pace than what you had been previously doing. You grip onto the side of the table to avoid tumbling out of your chair from the motion.

Freddy moans loudly and pants, his internal fan whirring as fast as it possibly can.

“Hah- Look at you my, hah, superstar… You’re doing so good, mmh! Doing so good for me…” Freddy tosses his head back and lets out a loud groan. “You look so, ah- beautiful like this! You’re so, hah… wonderful…” You moan slightly, hearing his praises, your core fluttering in excitement. Freddy bucks his hips upwards upon feeling the vibration, causing you to gag again.

“S-Sorry… Ah, D-Didn’t… mean to, hah!” He apologizes, one of his hands tangled through your hair caresses your cheek gently. 

Freddy is now hunched over your head, bobbing it up and down on his cock like his own fuck toy, not that you mind… Every moan he lets out arouses you more and more.

His pace quickens, and his moans get faster and louder. His hands grip your hair slightly tighter. You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

“Y/N… Ah! I’m… so cl-close… mmh! Oh Y/N… you- hah! You feel so good!” Freddy cries out, leaning his head back. 

You decide to help him out a bit. You scrape your teeth slightly against his shaft, making him cry out the loudest moan yet. He moans your name over and over like a mantra as he bobs your head down once, twice, and then opens his mouth in a silent yell.

Nothing comes out of his cock, but you feel it twitch. Freddy gently lets go of your head and collapses back on the table, panting. You pull off his shaft with a slight pop, also panting. Your face is beet red, with some small tears running from your eyes, as well as some saliva dripping from your mouth. You slowly wipe your face with your sleeve as you reflect on what you two just did.

“Y/N… that was… incredible…” says Freddy, as he sits up once more. You blush and smile.

“Yeah… it was really nice…” You rub your thighs together, your core aching a bit with lack of attention. Freddy notices this, and then hesitantly rests his hand on your thigh. You look at him and see him looking at you with kind, slightly lustful, eyes.

“Since you’ve finished your… checkup on me… perhaps I could… help you, if you wish…” He says, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Freddy…” You say, leaning closer to him. He leans in closer as well. The both of you begin to close your eyes as your lips approach his mouth.

Right as you’re about to kiss, a loud alarm blares through the silent room, causing the both of you to jump. You whip your head from Freddy to your desk, where you see your shitty Fazbear clock rattling from the sheer volume of the alarm. 

“Ah… right… That’s the um… end of my shift alarm…” You sheepishly say as you turn back to Freddy, who’s put away his, ahem, appendage. He looks a bit sad, but understanding, as he stands up from the table.

You close up your tool kit and place it on your rolly chair. Unlocking the cylinder door, you step through and put your chair and kit back in their respective places, Freddy following behind. You turn off the alarm and read the time.

Jeez, it’s 2:00 already… I didn’t think we were that long… You think as you gather your things, Freddy standing silently on the sidelines. 

You turn to him and the two of you just… look at each other. Something feels different between the two of you now. You’ve moved past friendship, but you don’t know where the both of you stand now. You’re certain of your feelings for him now, but you have no clue how he feels. Tonight was already a very big step, and you don’t want to push him any farther. Is this all he wants from me? Or was this a one-time thing? Does he still want to be my friend? Or something more? These thoughts flooded your head as Freddy glanced away and cleared his throat (or more accurately just made that sound).

“You know… it is quite late. I would feel much better if I know you made it out safely… May I escort you to the exit…?” Freddy asked sheepishly as if he hadn’t just used you as a fuck toy.

I huffed a laugh and smiled at him. “I’d love that, actually.” Freddy beamed at you and bent at the waist, offering you his arm to hold. You giggled and interlocked your arm into his and began walking to the exit of the PizzaPlex.

A comfortable silence ensued between the two of you as you made your trip out. You blushed slightly as you thought about what the two of you had done. You leaned slightly into Freddy more, enjoying his warmth and feel. You wished he would hold you like this all the time. As you leaned into him, you could have sworn you felt Freddy hold your arm a little tighter. 

God, you were in love with him.

During your walk, all you could think of were his eyes, his laugh, his smile… his moans… the way he looked at you with so much desire. Your heart ached with your want for him, for him to feel the same way… But it could never happen, you convinced yourself.

All too soon, the two of you approached the exit. You both unhooked your arms and stood and looked at each other. You opened your mouth and speak, but Freddy beat you to it.

“I just… I wanted to say… Thank you… For um, what you did for me tonight… It was wonderful…” said Freddy, looking away a moment and twiddling his thumbs. 

You smiled at him. “Hey, it was no problem! … And besides… I… Thought it was wonderful too… I really enjoyed it.” You blushed and looked at your feet.

“Well… in that case…” Freddy, then gently held your chin and tilted your face until you were looking directly into his eyes. They were slightly lidded, and he had a soft smile on his face. “Perhaps I could… return the favor sometime… If you would like…” His voice was deeper than usual. You could feel the rumble of it in your chest.

A shiver went down your spine, and your face flushed. “I… Think I’d like that very much… ‘Mr. Fazbear’...” You grinned.

He chuckled quietly and gazed at your face. His eyes wandered from your own, to your nose, to your flushed cheeks, and finally… to your lips, where they stayed. 

“...Y/N…” He said quietly. You swallowed slightly. “Yes..?”

“May I… Kiss you…?” He asked, leaning closer slightly.

You let out a breath, and leaned upwards, getting on your tippy toes. “...Yes…” You replied.

Slowly, you both closed your eyes, and met for a soft, gentle kiss. Freddy’s hand moved from your chin to caressing the back of your head, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You reached up and wrapped your own arms around his neck.

The kiss was so soft and gentle that it almost brought a tear to your eye. You’ve never felt so warm, so safe, so secure in your entire life. You wished it could have lasted eons.

But, good things never last, and you both unwillingly break apart from the kiss. You both stand there a moment, enjoying being in each other’s grasp, gazing into one another’s eyes.

“Well… I’d better get going… I’ve gotta get some sleep before my next shift.” You say, as you and Freddy separate from each other.

“Ah… yes. Well, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your night, and I hope you sleep well.” Freddy says with a soft smile.

You give him a smile back, and walk towards the door, opening it. Before you fully walk out, you turn back to look at him.

“See you tomorrow Freddy. Goodnight.” You say, giving a small wave. Freddy grins and returns the wave, as you finally step out into the crisp, cool night air.

As you walk towards your car, you’re internally screaming.

OH MY GOD, I KISSED FREDDY! NO WAY! I KISSED FREDDY FAZBEAR! OH MY GOD! This is a dream come true! You think to yourself as your start up your car.

You blush as you remember the… ‘promise’ Freddy made you. You have a feeling your next shift will be one you won't forget.

______________________________________________________________

I hope you liked it! I was a bit nervous about writing this, but thanks to some encouragement from some lovely people and friends I worked up the nerve and did it! I'm pretty proud of my first-ever published fanfic, and will most likely do more in the future!

Also, keep an eye out, you may see a part 2 for this in the future! (;

tagged people:

@dokoni-mo @burn-bunny

#fnaf sb x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf x y/n #fnaf security breach #fnaf fandom #fnaf sb #fnaf smut #fnaf x you #glamrock freddy #glamrock freddy x reader #glamrock freddy smut #x reader #one shot #fnaf fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic smut

[janeyseymour]

Fire in My Heart pt 3

for @sleep-deprived-athlete who asked for a part 3

summary: Would you do a part 3 of fire in my heart where the reader is introducing Mel to the fire station at like a department picnic or something?

Part 1 Part 2

wc: 2.5k exactly!

“Are you ready?” you ask your girlfriend softly as you gather your things for the annual barbecue at the firehouse.

“Are you?” Melissa asks you with a raised brow. She has her purse slung over her shoulder, and she already has two trays of mac and cheese and two trays of ziti in her hands. “Don’t be nervous, hun.”

“You don’t get to say that when you were a nervous wreck when your friends came over,” you huff playfully.

“I was not,” she rolls her eyes.

You hit her with a pointed look. “You absolutely were.”

“C’mon, hun. It’ll be fine, I know it. I know how to shoot the shit,” she promises you with a gentle hip check. 

“Okay, okay,” you sigh. You grab your own bag, take two of trays into your own hands, and kiss the redhead sweetly. “If it becomes too much, or they become too much, you just say the word and we can leave.”

She rolls her eyes but kisses you back. When you pull away, you can’t help but nearly drool at the sight of her. She has just a plain green tank top on and a pair of jeans, but you swear she’s an angel on this earth.

“Quit drooling over me, and let’s get a move on,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she expertly balances the trays to open the door.

“I can’t help it that my girlfriend is incredibly hot,” you shrug, but you follow her lead. 

The two of you walk into the firehouse where Randy already has a grill set up, and you can’t help as you roll your eyes.

“Oi,” you groan. “Who thought having a grill inside would be a good idea?”

“I don’t know, chief,” he chuckles. “I was just following orders to have a grill.”

“Take it outside,” you laugh. “We don’t need no fire in our house.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he follows your order. You and Melissa put down the different pastas on the table that’s been set out with other sides, and one of the younger firefighters is immediately at your side.

“Is that homemade?”

“By yours truly,” Melissa smirks.

“Oh, hell yeah,” he grins and immediately reaches for the serving spoon that you had put into one of the dishes not thirty seconds ago.

“Mel, this is Jake,” you laugh. “He’s the one who asked about your ziti the day we responded to the fire at Abbott. Jake, this is my girlfriend, Melissa.”

“What the hell do you put in this stuff that makes it so damned good?” he asks through a mouthful.

“You ain’t getting the Schemmenti recipe,” Melissa quips with a laugh. “But I’m glad you like it, kid.”

“Enjoy it before it goes,” you tell him. “Because it’ll go quick.”

He grabs another mound of a serving before giving your girlfriend a thumbs up and walking away.

“You want a drink, babe?” you lean in to ask Melissa. At her nod, you take her hand and lead her to the cooler. She pulls out a Yuengling, opens it, takes a sip, and sighs. You opt for one of your preferred seltzers, and clink your can against her bottle.

“That’s the good stuff,” you sigh softly. “You ready to meet all of my coworkers?”

“I believe you mean subordinates,” she chuckles. “You are the chief.”

“Only when I’m on the clock,” you roll your otherwise. “Off the clock, I refer to myself as ‘Melissa Schemmenti’s girl’.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Melissa Schemmenti’s dork,” you quip. She bats at you playfully as you head towards where the rest of your coworkers are.

Before the burgers and dogs are served, you spend most of your time milling around and introducing Melissa to your second family.

“So,” Randy smirks at the teacher as the two of you approach the grill outside. “You’re the one who makes one hell of a ziti and has taken our chief off the market.”

“That would be me,” Melissa says back just as lowly.

“You new?”

“If three years of dating is new,” the redhead rolls her eyes playfully. “Then sure.”

“Three years?” Randy raises a brow as he glances at you.

“Three years,” you affirm.

“Chief didn’t even tell us she swung your way,” he laughs. “No wonder she turned down every guy who tried to hit on her or any guy we tried to set her up with.”

“No one asked,” you shrug. “And it don’t much matter. I love who I love, and I do my work well. That’s all that matters.”

“Damn right,” Melissa grins as she hangs off of your arm. She kisses your cheek for good measure.”

Before you know it, Randy has finished cooking all of the burgers and dogs, and you’re all sitting down to eat family style- you always have at the firehouse. Meal times were the one part of your day where everyone sat together and talked freely. Usually, that time got interrupted by the alarm going off, but it was always nice the time you did get together. The men in your crew were like brothers or uncles at this point. With your position, you sit at the head of the table, Melissa to your right. A gentle hand lays on your knee as the two of you eat, and there are choruses of praise sung to your girlfriend for her various pasta dishes.

“Damn, chief,” one of the older fighters chuckles. “If you don’t wife this one up quickly, I will just so I can have her cooking for the rest of my life.”

“Not a chance in hell,” you point your fork at Jim warningly before continuing to eat your meal. “She’s mine, and you make one move on her- your ass is out. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” he mumbles as he looks back down at his plate.

“Hun, he was joking.”

“I know. I just want everyone here to know that you’re mine,” you direct that statement towards your coworkers.

“We hear you loud and clear, chief,” Jim laughs. “Schemmenti’s yours.”

The two of you listen as the others chat about anything other than work, you filling in the blank spaces for your girlfriend so she understands what’s happening. Then all eyes are on the two of you, not that you really notice. You’re so busy filling in Melissa and laughing at the small comments that she’s making- you only have eyes for her right now.

“Oi, chief,” one of your coworkers laugh. “Stop making googly eyes at your girlfriend and tell us how the hell you two met.”

“And when you’re getting married, if those eyes tell us anything!” Luke yells. “I swear to god, if I’m not a part of this wedding!”

“Ain’t nobody said nothin’ about a wedding,” you roll your eyes, trying to keep up your facade. “At least not yet.”

“I’d put money on it, it’s happening eventually.”

“What would you even be, Luke?” you laugh. “You’re a grown ass man who can’t walk straight sober.”

“I don’t know!” he grins. “But I want to be part of the chief’s wedding!”

“You can be a beer boy,” Melissa rolls her eyes and tells the younger man. He fist pumps with a grin on his face.

“So, how did you two lovebirds meet?”

You glance to Melissa, who tells the tale. “I was just hanging around one of the bars I like to go to with some coworkers after school. They all left at this point, and a guy I was hanging around with at the time was supposed to meet me there a little later. Turns out, the jackass was too busy fucking his ex-wife to be decent enough to let me know he wasn’t coming.”

You roll your eyes. He really was a dick for that.

“So I was sitting at the bar, ready to drown my sorrows in alcohol, as one does,” she sighs. “And I notice this woman sitting at the other end of the bar by herself.”

All of your subordinates throw you a questioning glance.

“Sometimes after a hard shift, I need to blow off some steam, and I’m no tramp,” you shrug.

“She looked pissed, I looked pissed, so I head over. I says to her, I says, “Oi, you get stood up too?” and Y/N looked at me like I had three heads.”

“I couldn’t believe someone so gorgeous was standing in front of me, much less talking to me,” you sigh.

“Ooh, who knew our badass fire chief was a total softy when the right person comes around!” Another of the younger firefighter whoops from the back.

“We ended up staying at the bar until it closed, just talking. Why I was there, why she was there, and anything else we could come up with. When we were leaving, she walked me to my car, and-”

“-They don’t need to know everything else,” you cut her off quickly.

“Oh, c’mon!” Luke groans. “It was just getting good!”

Your girlfriend smirks at you before continuing. “Your boss became a flustered mess as she clumsily asked me for my number.”

“And we’ve been together since,” you finish off, cheeks bright red. “She got her firefighter, and I got my hot redheaded teacher.”

The barbecue lasts well into the night, all of you dancing and drinking now that ‘family dinner’ was over. As the crowd starts to thin out, you begin to clean up the mess that everyone has left.

“Let me help, hon,” your girlfriend says softly as she starts to take serving spoons out of various trays.

“I got it,” you say softly. “Go dance, I know that dancing is more your thing than mine.”

“Eh,” she shrugs. “It’s better when I have an audience…” she glances towards the other men who are dancing with their partners. “An audience that I would want, anyway.” She means you, and you know it.

“Do you want to dance?” you ask her gently as you finish spooning some of the desserts into a Tupperware container. At her nod, you pull her to the makeshift dance floor. She grins as she gets to do what she loves.

After a while, she pats your butt gently and kisses you. “Thank you for indulging me. You don’t have to keep dancing if you don’t want to.”

“I need a break,” you tell her honestly. “But you stay. I’ll be watching.”

As you walk away, she does a move that practically has you swooning.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Randy laughs as he comes up to the dessert table where you’re back to cleaning up. “Is there nothing your woman can’t do? She cooks, she dances, she teaches… you got yourself a good one.”

“I know I did,” you chuckle as you watch her dancing. She’s having the time of her life with your group of coworkers. 

“You gonna marry this one?”

“I already got a ring hidden in my office,” you chuckle lowly.

“Good,” he claps you on the back. “Don’t let this one get away.”

“I don’t got no plans to let her go,” you tell him.

“Good. Now, I’m heading out unless you need any help cleaning up,” he says.

“Go,” you tell him. “I may be a badass fire chief, but I also know how to clean up and be domestic every once in a while. I’m just gonna put the food away, and then tomorrow someone else gets to put all of the tables away.”

“I’ll make sure Zach gets it done,” the older man tells you. “Enjoy your day off tomorrow, chief.” He heads out after that.

You finish putting everything away before you head back towards your girlfriend. 

“Hey, love,” she grins as she pulls you in close, still dancing. “Are you ready to head home?”

“I have to lock up,” you tell her. “But I’ll stop the party whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” she chuckles.

You head over to the speaker, turn off the music and turn towards those that are still here. “Alright, I’m calling it a night. The woman and I have to get home and in bed if we’re going to be up for Church tomorrow.”

“You go to church?” Zach asks. “I thought you didn’t-”

“Melissa’s catholic, so we go,” you roll your eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business what I do outside of work.”

Luke makes a whipping noise, eliciting a chuckle from the small crowd that’s left- including your girlfriend.

“Okay, get out,” you turn your chief voice on. “That’s an order. I need to lock up.”

It takes about ten minutes for everyone to gather their things and head home, and then it’s just you and Melissa in your office gathering your things.

“This was nice,” your girlfriend sighs softly as she takes your hand gently. She lets out a small yawn.

“It was,” you agree as you glance at the drawer where her ring is stored.

“I have one dance left in me, if you want,” you offer softly.

“Really?” she asks quietly- hesitantly.

You give her a small smile and take her bag, putting it on your desk. You pull your phone from your back pocket and start playing your song softly. You tug her in closely. For once, you lead the small steps that you take- she usually takes the lead while you struggle to keep up. She hums the song softly, and it’s taking everything in you to not drop down to one knee right now.

“I love you,” you whisper into her ear.

“I love you too,” she mumbles into your neck as the two of you sway back and forth.

While the song is playing, you really do consider just pulling out the ring and asking her right here and now. You want Melissa to be your wife more than anything. But the song is over, and you have to quickly fumble with your phone when the next song- a real mood killer- comes on. If the moment hadn’t been ruined, you know you would’ve popped the question.

“You ready to head home, hun?” she asks you quietly. You don’t quite register her words, still consumed with your own thoughts. “Hun?”

“Huh?” you shake your head. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“You okay?”

“I’m all good,” you promise her.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking about how well tonight went, and how lucky I am to have you by my side,” you tell her with love in your eyes. It’s the truth- just maybe not the whole truth. 

“I think I’m the lucky one,” she kisses your cheek as she turns to grab her bag. You open the drawer where the ring box is and pocket it.

The two of you lock up the building together, and you sigh when you get behind the wheel. You pull out of your parking spot. 

Maybe tonight wasn’t the night, but you know it’s coming soon. You thumb the box as you drive- you’ll get your chance soon enough. 

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic