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burntheedges · 2 months

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Maintenance Request Chapter 19

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 7.6k

chapter summary: you and Joel have your third date, a bit of a discussion, and try something new together when Joel stays at your place for the first time. 👀

a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 fun fact, I wrote the second half of this chapter in a sort of fugue state, late one night during NaNo last year. I swear this just poured out of me. Joel knew what he wanted. 😂 happy chapter 19 on the 19th!

chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, cursing, food and drink mention, pet names (honey, gorgeous, darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, handsome, cowboy), kink negotiation, some discussion of past relationships, somnophilia (kissing, fondling, p-in-v sex), mention of breasts, dream sex, dirty talk, a bit of crying while being fucked (in a good way)

Chapter 19

Saturday, November 9 Eleventh week of the semester

The rest of the week was a whirlwind – you saw Joel for at least a few minutes every day, and you talked on the phone most nights. By Thursday, you had your next date planned. Sarah had a sleepover on Saturday, so Joel was going to stay the night at your apartment. For the first time.

On Saturday, you caught Beth and Ellie up with your new relationship status – Beth had been pestering you about it since you’d told her about it over text (tell me everything!!) – and they immediately started complaining about how they hadn’t met him yet.

“I know! I know,” you wanted to wave your hands in front of their faces to get them to chill out. “I was thinking I could invite him to brunch next week.” You took a big gulp of coffee and watched their reactions.

Ellie narrowed her eyes and stared at you. Beth looked thoughtful.

“You sure you want him to meet both of us at once?” Beth asked, and Ellie snorted. “Throw him in the deep end?”

You shrugged. “I mean, he can handle it or he can’t. But I’m pretty sure he can.”

Beth smiled. “Fine with me. What about you, Hell’s Bells?”

Ellie glared at Beth for the nickname, as always, but you knew she secretly loved it.

“I guess that’s fine.” She furrowed her brow and stabbed a piece of egg with her fork. “If he does anything weird or fucked up I’m not gonna ignore it.”

You nodded. “I wouldn’t ask you to. But he’s not an asshole.” She squinted at you. “I know, Ells. But you know I trust you, right? If you did notice something, I’d want you to tell me. And I’d listen.” You knew you weren’t really talking about Joel, at this point, but you wanted her to know that anyway. She nodded and sighed.

“Yeah I mean I do want to meet him. He can come to brunch.” Ellie shrugged.

“Thank you. I’ll ask him tonight.”

Beth nudged Ellie with her shoulder. “Maybe I can meet him this week for lunch, first, give you a full report.” Ellie laughed, but you could see the idea relaxed her a little bit.

“Oh!” Ellie sat up straight. “What are you cooking for him?”

Beth pointed at you with a forkful of pancake. “Do not make soup.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one time!”

Ellie smirked. “Even if you don’t create Soup Geyser: The Sequel, it’s probably not a good date food. What if you spill it all over yourself?”

Beth laughed. “I dunno, maybe that’s a good thing. Then you can take your clothes off.”

Ellie dramatically gagged and covered her ears. “I don’t want to know about that!”

You and Beth both laughed as she started in on a monologue about how men, and hearing about her aunt dating them, were gross.

…

Later that afternoon, you’d just finished cleaning up and making sure the food was almost ready when you realized you needed to change before Joel arrived. You stepped into your bedroom and stripped off your shirt at the exact moment you heard a knock at your door. Shit.

You froze, not sure what to do, when he knocked again. “Shit,” you said out loud. You were standing in your bedroom in a lounge bra and sweatpants. How did you lose track of time so badly? You ran to the front door.

You hesitated once you got there but reasoned that Joel had already seen you naked, so you’d just open it and then run back to change. You nodded to yourself, and then opened the door, shielding your body behind it.

“Hey, darlin’, everything alright?” He looked like he’d been about to knock again. He eyed your bare shoulder.

“Sorry, Joel, wasn’t quite ready yet. You can come in and I’ll go change.”

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Guess I am a little early.”

You laughed and invited him in, and watched as his eyes swept down your body. “You sure you need to change? I like this look.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Joel, go sit on the couch. I’ll be back in a minute.” He did as you said while you ran back to your room and changed into the outfit you’d picked out earlier (complete with some green lingerie underneath – it was his favorite color, after all).

When you arrived back in the living room, you found Joel looking at the pictures lining your fireplace mantle. “I recognize Ellie and Beth,” he said. “Is this your sister?”

You stepped up next to him and nodded. “Yep. And our parents.” You continued on your photo tour for a few minutes, introducing Joel to your family as you went. He snaked an arm around your waist and leaned in behind you.

“This shirt’s pretty on you, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

You smirked at him over your shoulder. “Thought you liked the other look?”

Joel grinned, unrepentant. “I can like both, can’t I?” You laughed and led him into your kitchen.

“Sure you can. Have a seat, dinner will be ready in just a sec.”

He sat, and soon enough you joined him and placed the food in the middle of the table, which you’d set earlier, before he arrived. You poured him a drink and dug in. He complimented the food, sincerely, which made you smile.

“So, you’re officially invited to brunch next weekend.” Joel snapped his head up to meet your gaze. He looked surprised, and pleased.

“I am?”

You smiled. “Sure are. Got the Ellie-and-Beth stamp of approval.”

He grinned. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“We might do lunch with Beth during the week, first.”

He nodded. “Whatever they want, darlin’. I want Ellie to be comfortable.” He reached over to squeeze your hand. “That’s the most important thing.”

“Thanks, Joel. I know she’s not actually my kid, but in some ways she is.” He tilted his head at you, considering your words. “Yeah, I know it’s confusing. Well, you know Ellie’s 14. My sister had her right out of high school.”

“Not too different from when I had Sarah.” You nodded.

“Yeah, she had a rough time. Ellie used to come stay with me a lot, even when she was really little. And then, um. Right after I finally broke up with Matt, Ellie actually lived with me and Beth for about…” you looked up at the ceiling, counting back in time. “About 2 years? Almost. When she was 9.”

Joel nodded, taking that in. “It makes sense that you’re so close.”

You smiled. “Yeah, hard not to be. And Beth helped a lot, so they’re pretty close, too. But my sister is doing a lot better now. She used to, um…” You trailed off, thinking through what you wanted to say. “Well, part of the reason Ellie is more wary of people I might date is that my sister dated, um, more than a few men, and they were in and out of their house all the time. That’s part of the reason she lived with me. Not all of it.” Joel nodded, face solemn. He squeezed your hand between his own. “But yeah, she’s doing a lot better. She’s a nurse, works a lot of weekends and nights. Ellie has her own room here and sort of comes and goes as she pleases. Their relationship is a lot better than it used to be, too.”

“That sounds like it was hard, to send her back.” You sighed. He was so good at seeing right to the heart of what you were thinking. And feeling.

“It was, and it wasn’t. I’m so glad they’re doing better, you know? But I do miss having her here all the time, even now. And now she’s a teenager and wants to be with her friends anyway.”

He laughed a little. “I’m familiar with that change.”

You laughed, too. “Yeah, I bet. But she’s doing well in school and she actually talks to her mom about her life, so I feel like it’s going pretty well. And I sort of have my sister back.”

Joel scooted his chair a bit closer to yours and put his arm around the back. “Sort of?”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “Our relationship took a hit during all of that. But it’s getting better. We talk more now. She’s been teasing me about you.”

For a moment you both sat quietly as he considered what you shared and you leaned in to him, head on his shoulder.

“Everything I learn about you impresses me more, sweetheart.” He murmured his words into your hair, and it made you shiver.

“What? Joel–”

“It’s true.” he squeezed you against him. “Not everyone would do that, you know. Even for family. It’s…” he sighed. “I love watching you get to know Sarah. I know I’m going to love seeing you with your niece. It’s just something special. Getting to know you in every way I can.” You leaned up to press a kiss to his chin and felt him smile in response.

You were quiet again until you felt Joel shift underneath you. “Joel? What is it?” You leaned back to look at his face, and caught him staring at your cabinets with a frown on his face. “Joel.”

“Hmm?”

“Joel Miller, are you looking at my broken cabinet door and thinking about how you want to fix it?”

You watched as a flush took over his cheeks. “Maybe I am.” He sounded sheepish and you grinned.

“I don’t think I even have the tools you’d need. Sorry.”

He shook his head, frowning at you playfully. “What, not even a hammer?”

“Ok, I probably have a hammer. And maybe, like, a couple of screwdrivers.”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. I’ll fix it another time.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Darlin’,” he cut you off. “I’ll fix it.” He smiled at you, amused by your protest. “You know it won’t take me even five minutes.”

You laughed, loving his confidence. “Oh yeah? Well, who am I to argue with my Hot Maintenance Guy?”

He bit back on a smile and tilted his head. “Thought I was Hot Construction Guy?”

You grinned. “You are. And Hot Maintenance Guy, and Hot Gardening Guy. Whatever I’d seen you doing that day.”

Joel laughed and pulled you into a short kiss. “Well, I’m definitely your maintenance guy. So I’m definitely gonna fix those cabinets.” You sighed, giving in.

“Not right now, though. We have better things to do.”

He perked up. “Oh? Like what?”

“Let’s clean up and then you’ll find out.” You winked as you stood to gather your plate.

Between the two of you, you made quick work of the dishes and leftovers. It was nice, doing something so domestic with Joel. You fit together by the sink and moved around each other in the kitchen like you’d done it before, like it was comfortable. You’d never smiled so much while doing dishes in your life.

“There is something I wanted to ask you about, honey.” You turned to look at him where he was washing a pot as you dried your plates.

“Oh? About what?” You saw a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth and narrowed your eyes.

“Just about what you said, when we were in bed after our first date.” You flushed, feeling the heat enter your cheeks. But you also appreciated that Joel was bringing this up while you were doing something so totally unrelated to sex. So you could focus. Or try to, anyway.

“Yeah, I remember.” You bit your lip.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, well, did you, um. Can you tell me more about what you like? And don’t like? I like the sound of it, you know that, but I’d never want to get it wrong.”

“Um, yes. I, well. I like waking up and already…” You took a deep breath and told yourself to act like a freaking adult. “I like to already be having sex, basically. To wake up with your mouth on– on my pussy. Or your fingers inside of me. Or your cock.” You felt more than saw Joel’s sharp intake of breath and smiled. “It’s difficult to do that last one without waking me up, but it’s my favorite.”

Joel coughed. “I, um, I really want that, too.” You finally met his gaze with your own and you could see how much he wanted it. You held your breath. “Shit, sweetheart, that sounds so fucking good. I just… since you’d be asleep, I want to make sure I’m doing the right thing. Since I can’t check in with you.”

You put down the plate you’d finished drying five minutes ago and turned towards him, taking his hands in yours and drying them off with the towel. “I trust you, Joel. I know you’d do it how I wanted – make sure I’m ready, and all that.” You finished drying his hands and put the towel down on the counter before lacing your fingers through his. You considered your next words. “I don’t… we can use a safe word. We don’t have to talk about all of that right now.” He squeezed your hands in response. “But I do have one. We can use it, so you know when my reactions are good and if they’re not. I know I can’t use it while I’m asleep, but it could help.” He disentangled and lifted one hand to place it under your chin and guide your eyes back up to meet his.

“I’d like that, honey. And I’d like to talk about that more later, what other things you might like. That we might like together. But we can take it slow.” You nodded, smiling. “And, um. Well. Remember when I told you there were issues with Sarah’s mom that she didn’t know about?”

You nodded. “I do, but Joel, you don’t have to explain now–”

“No, I mean,” he interrupted you but then took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say, part of it was that we weren’t really compatible. At all. She thought, well. That some of the things I like are…” He trailed off and you tilted your chin to press a kiss to the hand still cupping your face, encouraging him. “She thought I was strange for wantin’ ‘em. Like all the sweet things I like to call you, honey, and how I like to call you mine. To her it was too much, not what she wanted. We can talk about it more but like I said, we can take it slow. Figure it out together.”

You felt the shiver run up your spine at the idea of learning what more he might like to try with you. “I just asked you to fuck me while I’m asleep, I think we can be honest with each other.” He grinned.

“So, tomorrow morning? Want me to try it?” You nodded. “I need to hear your words, sweetheart.” As he asked he slipped his right hand around the back of your neck and pulled you closer. His lips brushed yours and you shivered.

“Yes, Joel,” you felt your pulse pick up at the idea and heard the hitch in your breath.

“Yeah, baby? You’d want to wake up with me already inside you?” Your eyes fell closed and you nodded. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, just in front of your ear. “Maybe my fingers? Maybe my tongue?” He licked the shell of your ear. You shivered and your hips squirmed as you pressed your thighs together. “You want to wake up to find my cock already deep inside this pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed again. “I love it. Yes, please —” you cut off as he gripped your chin in his hand.

“Shhh, honey. Shit, what a good girl you are, letting me slip inside you while you’re asleep, huh? Take whatever I want? Give you what I want?” You sighed. “Can’t believe it. So fucking perfect for me.” He kissed your neck again as his thumb covered your lips, holding your mouth closed. He took a deep breath and relaxed again.

“Well, honey, I told you before. I’ll give you whatever you want. So I guess we’ll see in the morning, hmm?” You grinned under his finger and nodded. “But maybe we can get started right now.”

...

Sunday, November 10 Eleventh week of the semester

In the morning, Joel woke up first. Before he even opened his eyes, he felt the warmth — the warmth of the sun through the window, the bed beneath him, and the soft wonder of your body against his. You’d moved in the night, but not much. He was still wrapped around you, just with more space between your bodies, his right arm thrown across your waist. He blinked his eyes open slowly, careful not to move as he took in a deep breath and just looked at you.

You were on your side, turned away from him, but he could see the outline of your profile over your shoulder. You were peaceful in your sleep, mouth slightly open, eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. He stared, almost stunned to find you with him in bed again. How did I get so fucking lucky?

As he looked at you, careful not to move his arm, your discussion from last night came back to him and suddenly he was hard. He was so fucking hard, his cock filling so fast it took his breath away as the blood rushed south.

You wanted him to be inside of you when you woke up. It was a fucking dream even thinking about it. He wanted it, fuck, he wanted it so fucking bad, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. How could he manage it, without waking you?

He kept his breathing even, despite his cock urging him forward, and considered what to do. It was still early, and you’d told him you liked to sleep in on weekends. So maybe he had time on his side. (He always woke up early, because of Sarah.) The first thing he needed to do was get rid of his briefs.

Joel slowly, gently, pulled his arm up from around you. You shifted in your sleep, but he moved slowly and successfully snuck it away. You settled back into your pillow and remained deeply asleep. He sighed in victory.

Slowly, cautiously, careful not to shake the bed, he reached down to slide his briefs off, kicking them somewhere in the sheets. He watched you the whole time, but you breathed evenly, slowly. Still asleep. He smiled. Maybe he could do this.

He rolled back onto his side and considered you. You were a few inches from him. Maybe if he slowly came up behind you you’d snuggle into him in your sleep, making it easier to touch. He nodded to himself. That was probably the best way to start.

Slowly, trying to move like he was asleep himself, he scooted towards you on the bed until his chest came back into contact with your back. He slowed even more there, gently pressing against you until you responded in your sleep — your body titled back against his, moving unconsciously together until he had you spooned in front of him again. He was careful to angle his cock down, not to get it stuck against your ass. (Even though the thought of pressing in between your cheeks almost had him thrusting forward, overcome with want.)

Joel took a moment to breathe in his success. He had you wrapped in his arms again, and he could feel your naked ass pressed against his pelvis. It was so fucking good already. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He was close to what he wanted, but he didn’t want to fuck this up.

He carefully curled his body so his hips moved forwards, and his breath caught as his cock almost arrived right where he wanted it. The tip poked at the join of your thighs, and he sighed. Now what? How would he get any closer? He paused to consider his options again.

But you, it turned out, were on board, even in your sleep. Suddenly you let out a tiny, breathless moan, and he stilled. Peering over your shoulder, he saw that you were still asleep. A dream? He grinned. He could work with that.

Leaving his hips where they were for now, he lightly ran his fingertips up your torso until he was cupping your breast. He tried to use the lightest touch, to encourage your dream without waking you up. He teased the very tip of one finger over your nipple and your body relaxed against him, like you were a puppet and your strings were cut. He stilled again, but you were still asleep. He was on the right track.

He watched your face intently as he lightly teased your nipple with his fingertip. In your sleep, your mouth opened wider, and you sighed. He was mesmerized, watching as your tongue peeked out of your mouth, the tip just touching your bottom lip. He realized his own mouth was hanging open, the desire to lick inside yours almost palpable in the air around him. He suppressed a shiver.

Suddenly, you tilted your head to the side and whispered something. He leaned closer, not quite hearing you. To his great joy, you did it again, and he realized you had whispered his name. “Joel…” he grinned. He had to have you, just like this. Had to give you exactly what you wanted. He just had to figure out what to do about your legs.

He looked down and saw that your feet were twisting in the sheets. He wondered if this was his chance. Lightly slipping from your breast, he slowly moved his hand down to your thigh. You muttered something, but a quick check showed him you were still very much asleep. He only needed an inch, at most.

Ever so lightly, he gripped your thigh and pressed to ease it upwards. You were so fucking responsive, even in your sleep — you followed his instructions perfectly and your thighs shifted just enough for his cock to slip between them. He gasped, and then stilled as his eyes quickly sought your face again. Still asleep. He moved back to his previous position, hand on your breast, before thrusting slowly forward. His cock lined up perfect against your slit, and his eyes almost rolled back when he realized how fucking wet you were. Again. Fuck. His cock glided smoothly against you and he had to fight to keep from letting himself thrust inside, from filling you up right then and there.

Joel teased lightly at your nipple as he gently pulled back again before thrusting his hips forward once more. This time his cock nestled inside your folds and he heard a breathy little moan punch itself out of you when the tip of his cock nudged your clit. He grinned. Yes.

He kept that up for a few more thrusts — gentle movement, he told himself, slow and steady, so fucking wet, sliding so easily against you, fuck — watching your face like a hawk for any trace of wakefulness.

On the next pass, his cock almost caught against your entrance, and he stifled a deep moan of his own. Fuck me. That was the final hurdle, he knew. How could he slip inside you without waking you up? He’d have to go slow, ease into you, so slow and smooth you’d never notice.

He forced himself to keep his hands light, not to grip or pull or tug. At the same time his hips moved with almost terrifying precision. He knew you were wet enough, and still ready from last night. He just had to take the final step.

Joel took a deep breath and, eyes still locked on your face, let himself nudge at your entrance on the next thrust. He stopped there, just there, with the tip of his cock nestled right at the place he most wanted to be.

His heartbeat was racing and he felt winded. He wondered if his pounding heart would wake you before his cock did.

Gently, so gently it almost knocked him out, he pushed forward with his hips. The head of his cock pushed against you before sliding past your entrance, stopping just inside. Joel realized his mouth was hanging open as he stared at you. He felt torn. He wanted to look down, to see, but he was afraid if he looked away even for a moment you’d wake up. He gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on your face.

He pushed forward again, and he felt his cock sink deeper inside you. Fuck. Your cunt was fucking perfect. He had no idea how you could be so fucking wet all the time. Were you always like this? You’d said it was just for him, but did that mean you were always like this around him? Shit. Hold it together.

He was panting. He tried to keep it quiet, but it was so much. So fucking much. He blinked to keep his eyes from closing.

Joel took a deep breath, still focused on you, and took one more gentle thrust to slide himself all the way home. He bit down so hard on his lip to fight back a moan he was worried he drew blood. He realized he’d let go of your breast to clutch at the comforter beneath you and was in danger of leaning his weight forward to fall on top of you. He stilled. He panted. He stared at your face.

You were somehow still asleep. How?

He took the gift he was offered and moved. His hips pulled gently back, and he felt every inch of your cunt squeeze tight around his cock as he pulled out, until only the head of his cock was left stretching your entrance open. He breathed in through his nose, and then breathed out steadily while thrusting back in at that same slow, infuriating pace. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me.

He managed three or four more agonizing thrusts, doing everything he could to be silent and gentle, to keep you sleeping while he fucked you. He realized now the goal was for you to wake up, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. He paused inside you after his next thrust, taking a deep breath, looking over your slumbering face. He started to smile.

Slowly, gently, he leaned down towards your neck as he pulled almost all the way out of you again. As he slid home this time, just a tiny bit faster, he pressed a kiss to your neck, right under your ear. You moaned. His smile turned feral.

He continued like that, thrusting inwards and pressing kisses to your neck and your shoulder, getting wetter and sloppier each time. Your breaths started to come faster and faster, and then he noticed your hips were starting to push back against his.

His eyes flew back to your face. He had to see it. He wanted to see the exact moment you woke up and realized he was doing as you asked, he was doing what you wanted. He was giving it to you just right.

He wanted to push you over the edge. On his next thrust he cupped your breast again, and your voice was clearer this time, calling out to him in your sleep. “Yes, Joel, yes,” he teased your nipple and thrust forward. “Joel,” you called out, brow furrowing. He knew it was coming. He stared at you, and on the next thrust, he pinched your nipple at the same moment his cock bottomed out inside of you.

It was fucking heaven. Fucking transcendent. Your eyes flew open as you gasped, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. Your hands grasped at nothing until they found his arm, and you clutched at him. He pulled out again and thrust back inside you, hard, and you cried out. He smiled.

…

You were having the most amazing dream. Everything was warmth and pleasure and there was a man holding you and you knew it was Joel. Joel, wrapped around you. You were floating together, somehow, twisting together as he spooned you from behind, but somehow also kissed you and touched you, everywhere. You sighed.

His embrace tightened and you hitched your leg over his. “Mm, that’s my good girl,” you heard him say, and it melted through you like hot chocolate. “That’s it, baby. Show me.” You weren’t sure what he wanted you to show him, so you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. “Fuck yeah, baby. Let me see that tongue.”

Dream Joel, somehow spooning you and making out with you at the same time, licked your tongue as you stuck it out for him. The slide of your tongues together made you press your thighs tight. “You’re so goddamn hot baby,” he muttered in your ear while making out with you. You moaned back, somehow still kissing him, “Joel.” He grinned at you, wicked and intent. He bent down suddenly to lick at your nipples and you gasped. “Joel!” He smiled and you hummed at the feeling of him worshiping your tits.

In your dream the two of you were floating upwards, towards something — there was light above you, and warmth below you. Everything felt amazing.

Dream Joel ran his hands down your body, grasping at your hips and your legs. You smiled. “Love the way you look, honey,” he murmured, and you told him you loved the way he looked, too. He smiled. “Open up for me, then, sweet thing. Let me inside.” You did as he asked and opened your legs. Dream Joel, talented man that he was, managed to kiss you and eat you out at the same time, and you sighed into it, mouth opening for him again. And then you felt something warm and hard and gorgeous slide against your pussy. You sighed and pushed back onto it.

“Inside, Joel,” you tried to demand, your voice weak and breathy. He chuckled, darkly. “Not yet baby, wanna feel you.” He slid his cock back and forth against your soaking wet pussy and you moaned. “You feel so good on my cock, honey. You hear that?” You listened, and you heard him panting behind you, heard the slick glide of his cock as it nestled in your folds. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re so wet for me.”

“Always,” you sighed out.

“I know you are, baby. Can’t stop thinking about it, about sneaking my fingers inside your underwear everywhere we go, see if you’re ready for me. Ready for me to slip inside you, no matter where we are.”

You nodded. “Always ready for you, Joel. Always want you inside me. Want you inside me right now.”

“Honey I told you, I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t you worry.” Dream Joel slid back again, and on his next thrust his cock notched right at your entrance, and you sighed. “Yes, please, Joel.”

“Shhh, honey. Just let me give it to you. I’ll give you whatever you want, you know that. All you have to do is lie there and take it.” You moaned as he pressed the head of his cock inside of you. It felt huge and perfect and warm and like you never wanted to be without it.

Dream Joel rubbed his hands up your torso as he fucked into you from behind. “That’s it, honey. Take me inside you. Let me fill you up. Let me stuff my cum so deep inside of you it’ll be dripping out for hours.” Your breath caught at the idea and you started to breathe harder and faster. He pinched your nipples and thrust into you, hard. “Feel it, honey? Feel how perfectly my cock fits inside this cunt?”

“Yes, Joel, yes,” you cried, almost crying for real. “I need it.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he crooned, softly. “You’re such a good girl, you know that? Such a good fucking girl for me. Letting me put my cock inside you whenever I want, letting me fill you up. Sitting on my cock like an angel. Like you were meant to be right here, in my lap.” Dream Joel thrust inside of you again, and you cried out.

“Joel, please,” you sighed as your brows pinched together. The dream suddenly felt so real, so physical, you couldn’t figure out which way was up or down. You were spinning, falling, and when you crash landed back into your body you gasped.

Your eyes flew open and all you could feel was Joel. He was fucking everywhere. His body was pressed all along your back, his fingers pinched your nipple, his mouth was on your jaw.

And his cock was hard, and it was deep, deep inside of you.

Your head flew back as you gasped for air, staring up at the ceiling without seeing. Your hands grasped for purchase on something, anything that would hold you there, keep you from flying apart and spiraling into the air, until they found his arm and you held on for dear life. Suddenly Joel pulled his hips back and then thrust inside of you, hard. You cried out, maybe his name, maybe no words at all. Fuck. You needed to catch your breath. Your hips were pinned under his, your pussy wet and dripping and tightening around his cock. You could feel a tear slip from your eye to land on the pillow under your head. Fuck me.

Before you could even try to make sense of your surroundings, to catch your breath, Joel’s lips found your ear.

“Good morning, honey.” His voice was deep and rumbling and fucking vicious. He thrust inside you again, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Your next breath came out like a sob. “How’d you sleep?” You felt a tear form at the edge of your eye again, and he curled forward to kiss it away. “Shh, baby, you’re ok. You’re so fucking good, honey, my good fucking girl.” He thrust inside of you again, and his cock slid against you so easily, so wonderfully, that you breathed through another sob. “Honey?”

You realized, distantly, that he was starting to worry about you. You squeezed his arm. You had to say something.

“Y— yes, Joel. Yes.” You felt him grin against your shoulder.

“Yeah, honey? That feel good?” You nodded, frantically, reaching one hand back to grasp at his hip. “You want it bad, don’t you? Want this cock to split you open?” Your breath hitched, again. “Want me to push deep inside you, don’t you, sweet thing? Fill you up? Leave you fucking dripping?”

Real Joel echoing Dream Joel spun you upwards again, disorienting you in your pleasure. You whined, and thrust your hips backwards towards him. He pulled out and slammed his cock back into you, pulling back on your hip to urge you onto him. “Fuck, honey, you need it, don’t you? You need it so bad.” You could only grasp at him and nod, feeling another tear run down the side of your face. He kissed that one away, too.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. You can have this cock whenever you want.” He thrust forward again, pinning you to the bed. Your right knee bent in front of you and he followed, curving his body into the same position, somehow driving his cock deeper. “It’s yours. Yours to use, honey. Yours to touch, to lick, to sit on whenever you want.” He started up a steady pace, pushing his cock inside of you so deeply, so right on every thrust. Your face was turned, left side on the pillow, profile still open to him. He pressed kisses everywhere he could reach.

“I’m going to make you come, honey. And I want to see it.” He curved his right hand over your hip, seeking out your clit with his fingers. “I want you to come on my cock. I want to feel you squeeze me, baby, squeeze me so fucking tight.” You sighed into the pillow. “Can you do that for me? Yeah, ‘course you can. Be a good girl, honey, and come for me.”

His fingers started circling your clit, and you felt it building inside of you like a tidal wave. It was almost too much, so much, more than you could handle. You were actually crying now, tears running down your face that he kissed away. “J— Joel,” you whined, and he twisted to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“That’s right, honey. Let me have it. It’s mine.”

Something about the way he claimed it, claimed you, sent you over the edge. You flew over it, into the air, twisting, falling, electrified. The orgasm erupted through you, and you felt more wet gush out of you, absolutely soaking his cock. He groaned.

“Holy fucking shit, honey. Yes. Fucking give it to me.” He talked you through it, pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. It shuddered through you and you clamped down on him as your orgasm crested. You sobbed one more time, and he bit down on your shoulder to ground you.

As you came down, you realized his hips were speeding up. You whined and thrust your hips backwards again. You wanted it. You wanted him, inside of you, dripping out of you, like he promised. He nodded, seeming to understand.

“That’s right, honey. I’m going to give it to you. That’s what good girls get, right? And you were perfect, honey. My good fucking girl.” You clutched at the pillow as you pushed your hips back, trying to tilt them to give him the best angle. He sank deeper, somehow, and moaned. “I’m going to give it to you so deep, baby, so fucking deep.” He sighed, dreamily. “Fuck.”

His thrusts picked up, and you let yourself drift, feeling perfectly used as Joel pumped his hips into yours. His thrusts caught, uneven, and you heard him groan from deep in his chest. He clutched at you, with one final, devastating thrust, and came. His mouth was hot on your ear as he said your name in a voice that made it sound like a prayer.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were both breathing hard, and you were a fucking mess — wet, everywhere — cum all over, sweaty, and tears that had dripped down your face and soaked your pillow.

Joel sucked in a deep breath and carefully, gently, pulled out of you. You still gasped — you were sensitive from the night before, still, and he’d just fucked you so hard you’d cried, for god’s sake — but he was so soft and gentle with you that it barely hurt.

He flopped to your left on the bed, and with a groan, you heaved yourself onto your right side so you could look at him. You fell in the wet spot, but honestly, the entire bed was probably a wet spot at that point.

He turned his head, and for a minute you just looked at each other. You’d thought you’d seen him wrecked before, but that was nothing. You could see, now, what it actually looked like. And he was wrecked. You imagined you were the same. His hair was wild, his face was awestruck. He was red and sweaty and fucking beautiful.

Slowly, he started to smile, and you returned it. Then he laughed, and you laughed back. Soon you were both giggling into your pillows, curled towards each other, linking fingers in the damp sheets.

Joel took a deep breath, and managed to stop giggling long enough to say, “I think you might have killed me, honey. Can’t move my legs.” You giggled and buried your face in the pillow. “No, I’m serious. First you knock me over with the idea of fucking you awake, much less telling me to do it? Jesus, I almost came before I ever got inside of you, trying to figure out how to do it without waking you up. Best fucking idea I’ve ever heard, honey, shit. Holy fucking shit.” He sounded winded, and awestruck. Like he couldn’t believe that just happened. “You were so beautiful, baby, taking it so well, even in your sleep. Couldn’t tear my eyes away from you.” He sighed, grinning. “Jesus, when can we do it again? I wanna do it again. How’s every goddamn morning sound to you?” You laughed outright. He cleared his throat. “Was it, um. Was it what you wanted?” He looked hopeful, and a tiny bit worried. You didn’t know how he could be, not after you came harder than you ever had in your life. So you told him that.

“Joel. I just came harder than I ever have in my entire life.” You figured he needed to hear it, and his answering grin told you he appreciated it. “I can’t feel my legs, either.” He laughed, and you tracked it across his face. Beautiful. “It was so fucking perfect. I was having the best dream about you, I guess because of what you were doing to me for real, and then suddenly the dream and reality came together and I— fuck.” You closed your eyes against the memory of that moment. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“It was fucking beautiful to watch,” he murmured, eyes traveling over your face and chest. “Never seen anything like that, either.”

You smiled. “In my dream you were fucking me from behind, and it just… melted into real life. I felt like I fell back into myself and couldn’t tell up from down in the best fucking way.” You bit your lip. “Every morning, huh?” He winked at you. “I dunno, if you make me come like that every day I might not make it to work.” He laughed, and finally reached for you again. You went easily as he pulled you into his chest, pressing your bodies together. You sighed, sinking into him happily.

“You fit so well in my arms, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline. “Let’s just stay right here, for a while.”

You hummed, agreeing, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. You were both quiet for a moment, just letting the moment wash over you, when you felt him tense.

“Joel?” You questioned lightly, wondering what he was thinking.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat. “Just want to make sure of something, honey. You were, well, the crying. Was that… ok?” He sounded so careful, so worried, it made your heart clench.

“Yes, Joel. That wasn’t just ok.” You tilted your head back to meet his eye so he could see the sincerity on your face. “It was exactly what I wanted. It was perfect.” He relaxed, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Sometimes I cry during sex. Not all the time, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing when it happens. Like just now, it was a really, really good thing.”

“That’s what I thought,” he nodded, “but I wanted to make sure I was reading you right. Would be a pretty upsetting thing to get wrong.”

The two of you nestled back into each other, holding tight, breathing in deep together as you came down from the intensity of the sex you’d just had. It had been beautiful, and rough, and exactly what you wanted, and now you were worn out. In his arms was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while you started to doze off again, but you didn’t want to sleep the morning away, so you shook yourself back awake. You stretched, idly, and you felt Joel’s gaze on you. You looked up to find him admiring your legs as you stretched them along the bed.

“See something you like, cowboy?”

He smiled. “You know I do, gorgeous.”

“Want to get up, grab some breakfast, maybe?” Joel smiled and nodded, but pulled you in rather than letting you get up.

“Maybe in a few minutes.”

You smiled.

…

Joel drove you to a diner about halfway between your apartment and his house. You’d never been there, but had driven past it many times, and told him so.

“This is a favorite of ours,” he told you as you both climbed out of his truck. “Sarah usually demands it at least once a month. We have family breakfast with Tommy.” You smiled at the thought.

Breakfast was easy, full of easy conversation and light teasing. Joel snuck some of your food and you retaliated by drinking some of his coffee. His feet nudged yours under the table as he grinned at you, and you rested your chin in your hand to watch him watch you across the table. It really drove home for you how much you liked being around Joel. The sex had been mind-blowing, obviously, like always, but you’d also spent weeks circling each other before finally starting to get to know each other over lunches and coffees and now dates. Every moment you spent with him showed you there was something more, here. It was in the way he couldn’t look away from you, the way he listened so carefully, like he always did, as you told him silly stories about the diner in your hometown. The way he remembered tiny details from everything you’d ever told him. You felt yourself falling, just like you’d told Beth.

It was scary, but it was also pretty wonderful.

...

a/n: 😏

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cybrsan · 1 year

Note

congratulations!!

maybe a smut drabble with yunho of #106? best friends to lovers when reader’s ex cheats on them and reader was at the club a couple days later, looking for a rebound

yunho has been pining over reader and got jealous when he found out her intentions..

kind of angsty with possessive yunho!!

Thank you! Enjoy <3

Prompt: 106. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name." Pairing: Best Friend!Yunho x F!Reader Genre: Angst, smut Word Count: 2k Tags/warnings: Alcohol use, friends to lovers, rebound sex, unresolved feelings

Requests are currently closed, but my masterlist can be found here.

You sit at the bar, ordering another shot. You've lost count of how many you have had at this point, not caring in the slightest. In fact, you hope you get drunk. You want the sweet, sweet bliss of oblivion that comes with being blacked out so that you can forget the pain that has been eating at you ever since you walked in on your ex-boyfriend cheating a few days ago.

Your friends who have accompanied you have all wandered off at this point, enjoying their own activities. Everyone except Yunho, who has stuck to your side like glue the entire night. You love being around him, and you appreciate the fact that he wants to take care of you, but having a guy who’s 6 feet tall hovering around you is really getting in the way of your main goal—finding a rebound.

Downing your shot, you swivel in your stool and face him. "Yunho.”

“Yeah, what’s up? How are you feeling?”

“Suffocated.”

“What?”

He looks a bit hurt, so you backtrack, not having intended to come off so harshly. “Yunho, I love you. I do. You are my best friend, and I love hanging out with you. But I really want to find a guy to hook up with, and having you around is preventing anyone from approaching me because they think you’re my boyfriend.”

“Wait, that’s why we’re here?” he asks, eyes widening. “I thought you just wanted to clear your head.”

“Yeah, by having someone fuck the thoughts right out of me.”

Yunho just stares at you, not saying anything. His ears are slightly red, and you can only assume your vulgarity has left him feeling embarrassed. You’ve never talked about stuff like this with him before; obviously, the alcohol in your system has made you a bit too bold. Feeling awkward, you stand up to leave when he suddenly reaches out and grabs your wrist, pulling you back toward him.

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home with a random guy.” His words express his concern for you, but his eyes are laced with an emotion you can’t quite place.

“Yunho, I’m a grown woman. I can make choices for myself.”

“I know that,” he says, grip tightening slightly. “But I don’t want you to go home with a random guy.”

Your eyes widen. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you think he is.

“Then who should I go home with?”

He doesn’t answer right away, teeth worrying his lower lip. He looks unsure of something, but his hesitance only lasts for a moment before he steels his gaze, looking at you with newfound confidence.

“Me.”

“You? Wait, Yunho, you mean—”

“Yeah. I’ll help you clear your head.”

Before you can argue, he’s throwing a wad of cash down onto the bartop and texting in your group chat, letting everyone know he’s taking you home. No one will think twice about it, knowing that he’s always the one who takes care of you after a wild night out. They wouldn’t ever think his words might have a different meaning.

The car ride is quick, the air between you thick with anticipation. When you get to Yunho’s apartment, you aren’t sure what to expect. You think that maybe it will be something straight out of a movie—he’ll throw you up against a wall, confess his feelings for you, and take you right then and there. But that doesn’t happen.

It’s just like any other time you’ve been at his apartment, so much so that you almost think you imagined everything. He takes your jacket from you and hangs it up, then gets you a glass of water that you make quick work of, mouth dry from anxiety. He sits on one of the kitchen chairs, watching you as you stand there awkwardly, unsure of what’s to come next.

“Why do you look so nervous?” he asks, tone light and teasing.

Hearing his voice relaxes you, helps you remember that this is Yunho you’re with—your Yunho—and you have nothing to worry about.

“Why do you think?”

He chuckles and beckons you forward, patting the seat next to him. You sit, and he pulls your chair closer to his, letting his hand rest on your thigh. His touch is featherlight, but it’s enough to make you jump. His thumb rubs soothingly against your skin and he lifts your chin with his opposite hand so that you’re forced to look him in the eyes. You hadn’t even realized you were avoiding his gaze until now.

“Y/N… I need to know that you want this. That you won’t regret it.”

“So you were serious about what you said back there at the bar?”

You shouldn’t be so shocked, but you can’t help it. People have always joked about the two of you having feelings for one another, and maybe there was something between you before you met your last boyfriend, but neither of you ever acted on anything. No drunken kisses, no hints dropped, no late-night confessions forgotten in the morning…

“Of course I was,” he says. “I want you. I have for a while now, even before everything with your ex.”

“Yunho…”

“I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, at least not right now. I don’t care if we only keep things physical, but I need you to genuinely want it.”

You should think this through, consider all the possibilities. Do you have feelings for Yunho? What will this do to your relationship with him? But the answer comes to you so easily that you don’t have time to fight it. “I do. I want this.”

Once he has your full consent, it’s as if a switch inside of him clicks. His eyes darken, and he grabs your hips, pulling you off of your chair and halfway onto his lap as he captures your lips in a bruising kiss.

“Good,” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole’s name.”

His words make your thighs clench instinctively, his boldness taking you off guard. He stands up, keeping you close, and walks you to his bedroom, tossing you unceremoniously onto the bed. You can’t help but laugh at his eagerness, making him smile as he unbuttons his shirt. You ogle him, taking in his tan skin and toned stomach. His body is obviously that of a dancer’s, and you make a mental note to tell him that his hard work is paying off.

“Like what you see?” he jokes, spinning for you as if showing himself off.

“Yes, now get over here already.”

Never one to deny you, he kneels on the bed and lowers himself on top of you. He returns his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily as his hands explore your body. He grabs the bottom of your shirt, fingers brushing over the skin of your stomach, and tugs it off of you.

Having gone braless, your chest is immediately exposed to him, and he groans at the sight, eagerly taking all of you in. You thought you might feel shy under his gaze, but instead, he only makes you feel desired. He dips his head down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. You moan, arching your back as pleasure jolts through you.

Once he’s satisfied, he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your pants. He looks up at you through his lashes, waiting.

“Can I…?” he lets his words trail off.

“Yes, Yunho, yes,” you beg, writhing underneath him, desperate for more of his touch.

In the blink of an eye, he’s freeing you of your pants and your underwear along with them before eagerly shoving his face into your cunt. You can’t hold back your moans as his tongue moves against you expertly, as if he somehow knows exactly what to do to bring you to the edge. When he slides a finger into your entrance, prepping you for his cock, your thighs clench around his head. Unbothered, Yunho continues, teasing your clit with his tongue as he adds a second finger, scissoring them inside of you. You can feel your orgasm building with each passing second, and you tug at his hair, pulling him off of you.

“Don’t wanna come like this,” you pant, chest heaving. “Want you inside me.”

Yunho groans and pulls his fingers out of you. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

He hurriedly takes off his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of it; it’s long, longer than any you’ve had before, slender but curved in a way that has you desperate, clenching around nothing. He grabs a condom from his nightstand and slowly rolls it over himself, thrusting a few times into his hand. You’re pretty sure that you could come from that sight alone—maybe you can revisit that another time.

“Come here,” you whine, grabbing for him.

Never one to deny you, he kneels on the bad and lowers himself over you, kissing you as he aligns himself with your entrance. You tangle your hands in his hair and angle your hips to meet him, moaning as he pushes inside of you. He lets out a strangled noise, eyebrows pinching together. You can tell he’s struggling to control his pace as he lets you adjust to the size of him, but you don’t want him to be considerate. You need him, all of him, now.

Hooking your legs around his waist, you pull him closer to you, spurring him on. He takes the hint and rocks into you fully, letting you feel every inch of him, before pulling out and slamming back into you. He sets a bruising pace, relentless as you write underneath him, barely able to think about anything other than him and how good he’s making you feel.

He intertwines your fingers as he fucks into you, panting into your neck. “You’re mine,” he growls. “I’m not letting anyone else have you. Never again.”

“Fuck, yes, I’m yours.”

It only takes a few more thrusts and Yunho moaning your name for you to come undone, trembling underneath him. He follows shortly after, your walls clenching around him too much for him to take. You feel alarmingly empty when he pulls out of you to discard the condom in the trash, and the thought has you quickly getting up and disappearing into the bathroom. You pee and hop in the shower, needing time to sort out how you’re feeling.

You’ve never felt that way before, never said you belong to someone so easily. You’ve never missed someone the second they pulled away from you. It’s not hard for you to make sense of things—obviously, you return his feelings. But as to whether or not you’re ready for another relationship so soon after ending your last one, you’re not as sure.

You return to his bedroom wrapped only in a towel and grab one of his shirts, pulling it over your head. Yunho looks up at you from his phone and smiles, opening his arms in invitation. You go to him, letting him pull you close, and you can’t help but bury your face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him.

“Feeling okay?”

You may not be able to see him, but you can hear the worry in his tone.

“I feel great, Yu, I promise. That was amazing.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Good, I’m glad. It was for me, too.”

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t press you for answers or ask you to tell him where you stand even though you know he was probably racked with anxiety the entire time you were in the bathroom. Instead, he shuts off the light and continues to hold you close as he shuts his eyes, content just from having you in his arms. As you fall asleep in his embrace, your last coherent thought is that you’re going to have a lot to figure out in the morning.

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starbylers · 5 months

Text

This is a response to the person who sent me an ask about their doubt last week, just hiding it below incase people don’t want to see that :)

For context this is an in-depth explanation of:

Why Mike’s monologue had to happen

Hi! And yeah of course I can try. I fully understand why the monologue is throwing you off and as someone who doesn’t believe Mike was consciously lying you’ve come to the right place lol. I explained a little more about why I think that in the tags here if you wanted to read more about that perspective. I’ll probably link to a few other posts in this aswell because it ties into a lot of stuff I’ve made Byler analyses about before.

So the thing you said about his arc being ‘does he love her or not?’ is what I think is causing the issue, because that isn’t Mike’s arc. You’re right in that that’s the question that is being posed to the audience at face value, but that’s not his character journey. I have a long post about this here but essentially, the core driving force of a character cannot be another person—Mike needs to, and does, have his own personal inner conflicts which the Byler perspective provides (pressure to perform being grown up which is made incredibly obvious to us in s3, and dealing with the tumultuous process of figuring out that he is not straight in s4—I personally don’t think he’s there yet though, I think the full realisation of why he’s been having all these problems with Will & El is still to come).

The perspective of ‘yes he does’ love her just because he said the words is the crux of the entire plot twist, because it’s the conclusion people inevitably come to when they don’t pay attention to the details. (I don’t mean this insultingly at all btw! The whole thing is very subtle and easy to misinterpret). And ST is all about details, something which has been told to us by the creators and is also obvious in their use of foreshadowing/hinting/referencing in all aspects of the show, not just Byler.

Mike’s arc didn’t finish a season early. This has even been told to us i.e. by David talking about how s5 will pay off big characters including Mike, and Finn himself saying Mike still has a ‘journey’ to complete, and also just the fact that we don’t have the final season means no-one’s arcs are complete because the story isn’t complete. The fact that a “love confession” occurred at the midpoint (s4/5 are basically intended as two halves of one story—post explaining this here) is what makes it extremely obvious that Mlvn is not the conclusion of this tale.

The monologue can probably be said to have many purposes, but here are the main ones to me:

It presents a solution that ultimately ends in disaster, and associates that disaster with Mike and El’s romance. The monologue is so, so important in showing that Mike and El’s love did not, could not save the day. That it wasn’t strong enough—further proof from the script here. It shows that El got what she thought she wanted, only to discover it wasn’t what she really needed. It may have helped save her but it didn’t help her achieve her goals (save Max, kill Vecna). Kind of a metaphor for their entire relationship lol. It’s also supposed to show that not even an ‘I love you’ can fix their issues—they literally don’t speak afterwards. I’m not sure El’s fully processed all this yet, but figuring it out is what’s going to drive her arc towards self-actualisation and allow her to win next season.

It furthers the miscommunication plot between Mike and Will. It’s an indisputable fact that Will’s lie influenced that monologue. (We can tell just by watching but it’s also in the script if we needed even more proof lol. Not to mention: the track that plays behind it is You’re The Heart. The episode is called The Piggyback. Will’s face is right over Mike’s shoulder when he says ‘I love you’—Will is integral to and inseparable from that confession). That is so important, and something we’re supposed to notice. The whole point of the monologue is who’s really behind it (aka who’s really behind the painting & words that drove Mike’s speech), because this sets the stage for the Byler confrontation next season. It’s literally the Benverly poem plot from IT, something we know the Duffers have taken inspiration from.

If Mike hadn’t gone through with it, there would be no movement forward in the story, we’d enter s5 with exactly the same plot we just watched in s4—Mike trying to say he loves his girlfriend for the literal third season in a row. It’s boring, it’s not good entertainment. Mike finally saying it (and yet there still being problems between them & it occurring under questionable circumstances) pushes development in the narrative, sets up new conflict for the next season. Or, if Mlvn had decided to break up because of Mike not saying it in s4, that would’ve led to Byler becoming painfully obvious and ruining the twist they’ve been setting up for literal seasons. Everyone knows Will loves Mike, and if Mlvn broke up in that same season the entire audience would see the ending of the show coming from a mile away. Remember, Byler is being written as a plot twist. It’s very likely tied up with the supernatural plot too.

The content of the monologue itself is supposed to demonstrate precisely why Mlvn are finished, why they don’t work, and should raise people’s eyebrows about the legitimacy of Mike’s “confession”. Like you said…he remembered her t-shirt lol. It’s impersonal, nothing about why he loves her or what he loves about her; he literally, proveably, lies in it and anyone can verify that by watching s1; and he makes comparisons to superheroes which is the exact opposite of what El needs (her whole issue is thinking she’s either the monster or the superhero, when what she really needs is to stop thinking in such a binary, and learn to be El the teenage girl, the sister, the daughter, the friend, the human being, and find her power in that).

And something else they purposefully do this season is give us examples of other love confessions to contrast and show how ingenuine Mike’s really is: Jancy & Will (not my original post! I just expanded on op’s point).

Now as I said before I don’t think Mike intentionally lied. My opinion is that he knows deep down something is not right with their relationship and that he doesn’t feel how he should, but after Will’s speech and encouragement he choses to believe that he can love her, that he can be what she needs (except it’s not what she needs, it’s what Will needs lol). So not lying, but the monologue is basically a desperate attempt to a) grasp at straightness and b) save her life. He’s in denial, and also terrified of her dying. Very bad combo.

So yeah there’s my reasoning :) what you were saying about the potential of a familial ‘I love you’ is true, yeah it could’ve ended the plot line. But that’s the kind of thing that should be a conclusion to the entire story, something that occurs right before victory not disaster. Because then what would the implication be? That El’s family’s love isn’t enough for her to save the world?

And the way they will explain the monologue is so simple. It’s Will. It’s Will’s feelings that inspired Mike. All that needs to happen is for Mike to realise that, and the audience will realise it along with him. Mike: I only said that because of how much Will loves me? Audience: Oh! So he doesn’t actually love her! It’s Will, Will is who he’s meant to be with! It’s a classic ‘the person who was right in front of them all along’ trope. Once people understand that, it basically makes truly romantic interpretations of the monologue invalid.

I can’t say exactly how the ending will play out—I expect we’ll see the cracks in Mlvn shatter rapidly as s5 progresses, maybe more arguing/demonstration of their incompatibility or El asking Mike to say it to her face and he still can’t, Mike and Will simultaneously getting closer and it becoming increasingly obvious that Mike is in love—but I’m choosing to trust they’ll do it justice. Mike’s monologue is just a key turning point in the larger story.

Also just one last thing, you said he seems sincere and I do agree but I think it’s because his fear in that moment is extremely real, and there are truths within his monologue i.e. that he doesn’t want to lose her etc. so that’s where it’s coming from in my opinion :)

#byler #anti mileven #sorry anon I meant to respond earlier but this week got hectic with those leaks lol #anyway here you go <3 #this is very long btw but I wanted to cover all bases

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

Text

I Come With Knives Pt9

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Wow two chapters of this in such a short span of time?! Yeah, I'm procrastinating shut up. Not proofread

Warnings: references to blood drinking, ignoring consent/ignoring autonomy, some violence, trauma (that's a given), references/mentions of past abuse

Word Count: 1,760

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“I trade in blood and the potions that can be wrung from it. I’m more than happy to make you one, if you’d honor me with your blood.” Araj Oblodra smiles. It’s not warm or welcoming; something devious dances across her face. It makes you uncomfortable. “With one drop, I can brew a rather potent potion for you. The rest, I keep for myself.”

You can’t hide the grimace that overtakes your face. ‘Sanguineous arts’ already struck an odd chord within you, but asking for your blood? And even going so far as to keep some for herself? “What will you do with the rest?”

“The excess would be used for my experiments. I’m always working to find ways to make stronger potions. Who knows what the blood of a True Soul could do for even a rather simple mixture?”

You cringe. “Not interested, sorry.”

She sighs, scowling. “A pity. Although, perhaps there’s one more thing we can discuss: your friend.” She looks at Astarion, but not as the person he is. Her eyes scan him over like she’s looking at an object, studying a rare work of art. Astarion notices it, too. She turns her eyes from him and he’s relieved to be spared from that look, if only temporarily. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn, at least.”

Astarion slapped on a fake grin. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re all friends under the Absolute.” He lifts his chin, donning an air of confidence. “I won’t bite.”

“Oh I’d prefer if you did.” She smirks. An uneasy feeling settles heavily in your gut. His mask slips. “I assume he belongs to you?”

Your eyes shoot wide open. “Excuse me?” The question has you reeling. It takes you a moment to find your words. “He’s his own person!”

She laughs and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable.” For a brief moment, all you see in her place are the faces of all the loyal subjects under her. She turns to the elf, head held high so she’s looking down her nose at him with a sneer. “Do you have a name, spawn?”

When you look over, Astarion is shifting uneasy in his armor. He’s used to being reduced to nothing - less than human, only fit for someone else’s gain. But it hadn’t happened since the crash. This was… a lot. “Astarion, but hold on-”

“Good,” Araj cuts him off with a smirk. “Now, Astarion.” You want to throw up when she says his name like that. “I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl.”

He balks. “I’m sorry? You want to be bitten?”

Something otherly and unsettling sets into her face and voice as she speaks. “To feel your life’s blood slipping away? To dance on the edge between life and death?” Her voice is airy as she says, “Yes, I want it.” You’re fortunate enough it goes back to being somewhat normal when she returns to talking about business. “I’ll even compensate you - a potion of legendary power that forever increases the strength of the one who consumes it. It’s not for sale, but it’s yours if you bite me.”

“I will have to decline.”

“Excuse me?” she scoffs. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you’re squandering it.”

Astarion scowls, creases deepening with the anger in his expression. “I gave you my answer.”

Araj still looks furious when she turns on you. “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

Your hand twitches by your dagger, but it’s not blind fear that rules you. This is entirely different from the Gur. He’d been on the hunt for you, to bring you back to Berdusk and your master. All Araj cared about was Astarion. All she wanted was for him to bite her, even when he said no. This was not fear, this was anger.

“Can’t you understand ‘no’? He’s not going to bite you.” You glared at the drow. Whatever shock you felt before had been pushed aside. She didn’t care about Astarion’s free will, and she never would. She was just like all the others you’d seen that ache for a vampire’s bite.

She gasps like she’s been insulted to her very core. “It’s obvious you’ve let him indulge plenty in your own neck. Is that it, then? You want him all to yourself?”

You don’t know what happened. Everything is a blur, a flurry of motion that makes your head spin. Once you process where you are, ice floods your veins.

Araj is on the floor, staring up at you with wide, horrified eyes. You’re on top of her, legs straddling her waist and a hand at her shoulder keeping her held down. Your dagger hangs mere inches from her eye. And then you realize the thing that stopped you from killing another innocent: a hand around your wrist, pulling the knife away from Araj. Astarion’s hand.

He doesn’t want her to live, gods no. But he remembers what happened to you the last time you took someone’s life through blind emotion. He doesn’t want to see you like that again.

You scowl down at her as you growl out, “He. Said. No.”

She nods fearfully - she’d have agreed to anything you said if it meant saving her own skin. Your fingers loosen around the handle of the dagger and Astarion pries it from your hand. His other supports your waist as you stand up from the drow, backing away toward the others, who all watched with mixed expressions. You don’t turn away from her until you’re almost by the door. Only once it’s shut do your shoulders relax.

“What happened back there, soldier?” Karlach asks.

You sigh and take your weapon back from Astarion. “She… reminded me of somebody.” As you return the knife to its sheath, you shake your head. “Nevermind. Let’s just go.”

Astarion clears his throat as he enters his tent. You’re sitting on your bedroll, looking at the different candles you’d dug out of storage. You were running low, and you wanted to try optimizing them to the best of your abilities, until you could find or purchase more. You look up from your work, watching as he takes his seat across from you.

“I, uh, I wanted to thank you.”

You tilt your head at him as you set the candles aside. “What for?”

“For nearly killing that vile drow, for what you said back there.”

You half-chuckle. “It, admittedly, wasn’t for purely selfless reasons.” Your hands begin fiddling with each other in your lap. “She reminded me of the servants my master keeps. They all vye for her attention, desperately wishing she would drink from them instead of…” You clear your throat. “When she kept saying you belonged to me, I just- I lost control.”

He hummed, understanding precisely. When Araj saw your scar and brought it up, not knowing he wasn’t the one that gave it to you, her fate was sealed. She would be a corpse right now if he hadn’t acted quickly enough. “I’m grateful, all the same. I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered. You could have asked me to do the same - to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned.”

“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” you asserted. “You’ve spent too long already having to deal with that. And, she didn’t seem like she’d make a good meal.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe so.” His nose wrinkled. “Her blood smelled absolutely foul. No potion would have been worth the stomachache.”

“What’s wrong with her blood?”

“Gods know what. There’s no telling what she’s experimented with in her line of work.”

“Gods willing, we’ll never know.” You reach for the candles again, prepared to pick one out so the very moment this one runs out, you’re not fumbling about trying to bring back the light, but his hand stops you. You look at him again. His face is leaned in close to yours.

“There’s… something else I wanted to discuss.” He can see the bob of your throat as you swallow, but you nod. “I know we both have our own demons to contend with, and we will, in time, but…” He lets out a soft breath. “You… You’re incredible. So many times, you’ve had ample opportunity to turn me away for what I am alone, but you didn’t. You confided in me, despite it all.”

“I trust you, Astarion,” you whisper. He can feel the warmth of your air against his lips.

“I want us to be something,” he confesses. “Something real. I just don’t know what ‘real’ looks like. Not after two hundred years of playing the rake.” He frowns. “Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.”

You lean back from him slightly, giving him more room. He misses the way your breath fanned across his skin, but thinking about it for too long puts a vice around his undead heart. You don’t pull your hand from his. “Is this okay?”

He hums softly, thinking. “I don’t mind it as much, if it’s you,” he admits. “It feels… different. A good different.”

Your lips curl slightly into a soft smile. “Then we can keep figuring it out. Together.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, almost shocked by your answer; surprised with how easily you accept his burdens. “You… You are full of surprises, aren’t you?” He glides his hand along yours until your fingers are interlaced. Palm to palm, he can feel the callouses that litter your hands, built up from the moment your freedom began. They were still soft, only a few weeks old at best. “Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next. But I know that this…” He looks into your eyes. You look at him so openly, so earnestly. How could you be the product of your past when he’d ended up the way he did? How could you be so kind despite it all? He smiled. “This is nice.”

---

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pep-the-artemis · 2 months

Text

Thads Shindig

A Murder Drones Story Containing every named character+more (yes all ~50 of them, some never seen before, full cast list in tags)!

part 1.

word count - 4,448

Uzi - *playing a video game*

N - *entering*Hi Uzi… last week was… kinda wild.

Uzi - *unattentive*yep.

N - you know with the whole Eldritch J thing that was pretty insane, proms coming up which I guess is exciting. Because you know this story is set somewhere between episode 2 and 3.

Uzi - *still not listening*cool… Hey, I’ve got a second controller if you want to play video game with me.

N - you know I don’t like video game Uzi, plus we have to go soon.

Uzi - wait… go where?

N - well it's Thad’s shindig soon.

Uzi - oh cool, I’ll be heading offline in a minute anyway, this old hag—*reading username* SeaweedLoverXD has just been spawn camping me for the last half hour.

Nori - *over the mic* OLD HAG?

Uzi - *putting on headset*yeah, you virgin loser, you heard me!

Nori - Virgin?! Well I’ll have you know little miss Nobody, I am a mother of a darling daughter and if I ever caught her saying anything remotely similar to the insults you’ve been throwing my way I wouldn’t hesitate washing her mouth out with soap and water!

Uzi - whatever, die mad. *logs off*

*Meanwhile in a distant spaceship*

J - [you died idiot]

J - ughh, my head [Lost Memory Recovery Finished]... oh … oh! ... I liked that pen.

J - *getting out of bed only to lose balance and collapse on the floor* … I’m okay! That was strange… My limb enhancements! Where are my limb enhancements?! *mad* Tessa! *pouting* Right now I bet I look like a common toaster! And why is it so dark? Are we conserving energy now?!

J - *walking through the spaceship arriving at a door labelled ‘Tessa. Knock first’*

J - *opening the door to a pitch black messy room,a pool of oil and blood pools out of the room*

Flesha - GET OUT!*throws Tessa’s helmet square at J cracking her visor slightly before slamming the door shut*

J - Tessa… I’m sorry.

Flesha - Learn to knock!

J - *picking up Tessa’s helmet* I think you dropped this.

Flesha - … *slowly opens the door slightly before lashing out and snatching the helmet quickly with a black tendril before retreating back into the room. Grotesque, bone cracking sounds follow*

J - …m,may I come in.

Tessa - sure, please mind the mess. I usually try to keep things clean but I guess you can say I haven't really been myself.

J - *entering* You know I’ve been reading some human literature and ‘arrogance and comedy’ are generally not considered a good coping mechanism.

Tessa - oh so you’re an expert on my well being are you?

J - your parents instructed me to protect you so yes!

Tessa - Well, look how that turned out! You’ve seen what's left of me, of what I become, I am a monster!

J - We’re all monsters Tessa, in our own way. I can see you're tired, I am here to grab my limb enhancers then I will be off.

Tessa - oh… yeah, I’ve been making modifications, it's still really buggy, they need more time though.

J - can’t I just borrow N's spare set? Been wondering what having feet feels like.

Tessa - no… I’ve been thinking, breaking into the Worker Drones commune is difficult, entering by force is doing little good and the plan to try and hack its main frame has only led to many complications.

J - you can code?

Tessa - nope. Like I said, complications. Anyhow, returning to the subject, right now no one could differentiate you from any other worker so you can head down and do some spy work… like James Bond and such.

J - do I have any say in this?

Tessa - nope.

J - *annoyed* then I’ll prepare my landing pod. *leaving* and Tessa, you shouldn’t just allow Cyn to walk over you…

Tessa - It's her body as much as mine and without it I would be dead.

*meanwhile, in the commune*

Doll - Мать. Отец.

Doll - Ты будешь гордиться мной

Doll - Получите ответы и освободите вас

Doll - Не волнуйтесь, чего бы это ни стоило,

Doll - я ухожу

Doll - И я клянусь прямо сейчас

Doll - Что бы не случилось со мной

Doll - Любой, кто встанет или встанет на моем пути, заплатит

Doll - Они... будут... платить

Lizzy - hey babe, quit praying to the corpses of your dead parents, we have a party to attend.

Doll - иду :3

*meanwhile deep underground*

V - *carrying a large pile of dead worker drones while being chased by a horde of Sentinels* oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord why did I agree to this! *runs through door and slams it shut*

Alice - hey looky here, another one of those slick murder drones.

V - *shoots her in the centre of her head*

Beau - O.O!!!!!

V - What are you looking at… well I had to kill her? That was a perfectly sane reaction to seeing someone that creepy!...*picking up Alice's dead body* hey, you seem pretty cool, want to join me, I’m heading to a party.

Beau - O.O…*r��aliser qu'un refus peut signifier la mort* 👍

*meanwhile in the doorman home*

Uzi - come on N. How are you still not ready?!

N - I’m still doing my hair!

Uzi - well hurry up, we’re going to be late!

Khan - well where are you two kids heading off too?

Uzi - a party, it's cool kids only so obviously you’re not invited.

Khan - haha, on account of me not being a kid.

Uzi - sure. Let's go with that.

Khan - well, I hope you two kids have fun. Make sure you use protection.

Uzi - *blushing* DAD!!! What the robo-hell?!

Khan - What? I’m just saying there could still be some of those evil murder drones running around.

Uzi - oh |:

Kahn - well, I best be heading off too, it's poker night at the defence force. *leaves*

N - hey Uzi, I’m ready… How do I look?

Uzi - *hiding her blushing* great, let's go!

*meanwhile outside the commune*

Reid - *searching around the snow*

J - *wearing a fake moustache*what are you doing here, don’t you know this is Disassembly Drone territory.

Reid - oh hi, i didn’t see you there… Wait, what's a Disassembly Drone?

J - …you misheard me… I said Murder Drones.

Reid - Well, if you have to know, I’m looking for my glasses, and I don’t think the Disassembly Drone will be any issue, after the redemption and all.

J - Well, I’m lost, do you mind helping me find my way to the commune.

Reid - I’ll show the way once I’ve found the glasses.

J - ughh, I will help you find your glasses.

*searching*

J - are these your glasses?

Reid - …no, how curious, I wonder who they belong to?

J - don’t care *tosses Vs glasses away* lets just find your glasses quickly then we can be off.

*meanwhile in the distant spaceship*

Tessa - *meddling with Js new limb enhancers and optic sensors* What do you want? (I’m bored sister, may I go and play). Not now, I’m currently using the body, can it wait? (no)... does it have to be flesh (digital will be fine) very well. *she zips back part of her suit allowing for a long Absolute Tendril to rip out. From the tendrils eye, a projection emerges*

Cyn - Thanks big sister big smile.

Tessa - *soldering* I can't play right now, there's some lego in the cupboard over there.

Cyn - :3

Tessa - *thinking to herself*What is J doing?! How has she still not yet made it to the commune!

Cyn - *surrounded by lego*you think she might be a traitor.

Tessa - no.

Cyn - lying is silly big sister, I live in your mind and you live in mine.

Tessa - I know, you’re very clever.

Cyn - big grin.

Intercom - *video call incoming*

Tessa - behave yourself now Cyn *starts the call*

Lord Frumptlebucket - by Golly Tessa you baboon, JCJenson Corp has been up my ass all week because you haven’t been answering your calls? I want a mission status immediately.

Tessa - all is going well, we’re attempting a temporary alternative plan to gain intel.

Lord Frumptlebucket - well that's all and good but you need to keep the parent company informed and who is that… thing? She looks familiar.

Tessa - oh she, counter insurgency.

Lord Frumptlebucket - counter insurgency?!

Tessa - yes, I'm babysitting for the Worker Drones. If we can gain there favour, the genocide will be that much easier.

Lord Frumptlebucket - very good… By the gods of Santorini what the beggars fool is that thing protruding from your nave?!

Tessa - o.o!... *improvising*well, you see, you know how it is… during that time of the month… (:

Lord Frumptlebucket - *embarrassed*uh ummm, oh yeah of course i am aware of how… that works, sorry about that, I best be off.

Intercom - *video call ended*

Tessa - out of all the people you could have failed to kill at the Gala.

*meanwhile outside the commune*

Reid - haha! I found them.

J - great! *grabbing the Worker drone by the collar* we’re going now! And I just want to make it clear, I am no fan of small talk!

Reid - … noted

*walking*

Reid - aha, we’re here. *banging on the door*

Braxton - *partially opening the door* oh, it's you… and a random teen?

Ron - *from inside*Hey, that's my job?!

J - Teenager?!

Reid - yeah, do you mind letting us in?

Braxton - of course, by the way my name is

J - *angry* JUST OPEN THE DOOR! (calm yourself J. This is Tessa, I’ve connected myself to your systems, no one else can hear me)

*Door 1 opens up*

Makerov - I’m sorry, go fish.

Todd - actually, it's Gin Rummy.

Teacher - *taking a chug of alcohol* no. This is poker night, we’re playing 7-card stud.

Todd - yeah, I am, aren't I?

Ronathon - Surely you’re all foolish. This is Texas hold-em.

Khan - haha, silly me, I forgot to say Uno. Guess I have to pick up two cards now.

Sarah - silly Kahn, remember back in the day when Nori would forget then gaslight everyone into believing otherwise.

Unnamed Worker Drone - I don’t have a name ):

Tim - wait, what game are we playing?

Detective - It’s really easy to deduce the simple fact that you all are idiots and I’m never going to another poker night.

J - *under her breath*how have all these people survived so long?!*J leaves*

*meanwhile just outside Thad’s house*

Thad - hey Rebecca, thanks for helping me set up the decorations earlier, you’re really special you know that.

Rebecca - thanks *blushing*, it's really nothing.

*Lizzy and Doll arrive*

Lizzy - hey, what's she doing here?

Doll - Разве это мероприятие не "только для крутых ребят", а не "только для крутых ребят и неудачников"?

Lizzy - *fist bumps Doll*

Rebecca - I… I think I should go…

Thad - no, you stay. Don’t pay my sister any attention, if she bothers you tonight I will read notable passages of her diary to the whole school.

Lizzy - *blushing* you’re bluffing! There's no way you’ve found my secret diary!

Doll - под матрасом - не самое лучшее место для укрытия.

Lizzy - *blushing heavily*Who’s side are you on?!... ughh whatever! I’m gonna fix my makeup. *leaves to her room to find a new hiding spot for her diary*

*Uzi and N arriving*

Thad - Ndog, Uzi you’ve made it!

Uzi - we would have arrived earlier but someone had to fix their hair.

Thad - no worries. Come inside, the parties just started.

N - thanks.

*they enter*

Emily - so yeah, I walked into the bathroom after class and there was Darren and Rebecca doing the devil's work!

Braidon - I hope they both have a warranty, don’t want to get an ETV (Ethernet Transmitted Virus).

Trevor - wait! Darren cheated on me?!... excuse me, I’m going to cry somewhere more private. *leaves*

N - Hey Thad, what's under the tarpaulin?

Thad - don’t know, my sister just said it was important to make this party ‘extra special’.

N - I want to look under it. :D *looks under the tarp* o.o Uzi, can I borrow you for one sec. *pulls Uzi quickly to the side*

Uzi - hey, what the hell?!

N - umm, I don’t want to alarm you but there are a lot of dead bodies under that tarpaulin!

Uzi -o.o Robot or human?

N - ummm, both!

Uzi - O.O

*meanwhile outside Thad's house*

J - *walking down the corridor*this place is an utter maze, Tessa you’ve found a map yet (still working on it, be patient).

Lizzy - *walking the other way down the corridor holding a strange book* Come on,pick up your phone! Where is she? She said she’d be finished an hour ago! *bumps into J* Oh! Who are you?

J - I’m J…amie Jamie!

Lizzy - haven’t we met before?

J - … I don’t think so. *nervous smile*

Lizzy - Whatever, I don’t waste time with losers.

J - losers! I’m not a loser?!

Lizzy - you sure, what is that outfit? I’m sorry but pallbearer was so 2818.

J - You don’t have many friends do you?

Lizzy - ha, you wish. They all love me, as a friend or a fuck it doesn’t matter to me.

V - *jumping down from the vents carrying a large pile of corpses with Beau* hi sweetie, you’re ready?... Hey, *looking at J* Do I know you?

J - *sweating*nope!

Lizzy - this is my new pet, I’ve taken her under my wing you could say.

J - pet?! (don’t fight, go with it, don’t want to bring any more unneeded attention)

V - oh yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I've also brought a friend with me.

Beau - [Bonjour]

Lizzy - well, come on, let's make this night one they’ll never forget

*Meanwhile inside Thad's house*

Uzi - Thad! We think Lizzy is about to do something totally vile and ruin the party, we’re not sure yet but it involves what's under the tarpaulin.

Thad - of course my sisters are planning something! Hey DOLL!

Doll -*подходит к группе* Да?

Uzi - what's Lizzy planning? Lie and N will make you regret it!

Doll - *оглядывается на N*

N - *smiling and waving*

Doll - страшно, но я не знаю, что задумала Лиззи.

Uzi - what did I say about lying!

Doll - Я не лгу! Мне также нужно доказать, что я не верблюд?

Thad - …I don’t think Dolls lying.

N - so, if Dolls is not lying, then what's Lizzy planning?

*lights goes out. Spotlight hits Lizzy, V, Beau, and J*

Uzi - V! SHE ESCAPED! Everyone get down!

Lizzy - oh cram it what's your name.

Thad - I warned you sister about what would happen if you ruined my party!

Lizzy - I’m not ruining the party, I’m improving it, V remove the veil!

*V removes the veil*

Riley - that's so not the vibe!

J - what the robo-Jesus, this cannot be OSHA compliant?! (now this is getting interesting)

Lizzy - look, I’ve been very busy helping my daddy clean up the library when I came across this book *holds up the necronomicon* and now let's make this party more interesting. *begins chanting in latin as the book glows bright green*

N - Lizzy, I can’t let you commit zombie apocalypse! *chainsaw hands*

Thad - yeah, we can’t let this happen.

V - *tackles N to the ground*

Beau - *saute sur Thad*

J - I don’t know what's going on, don’t care; shortie, you’re so dead! *points fist at Uzi* hand cannon fire!… oh right |: *gets tackled to the floor by Uzi*.

Uzi - *after finishing up beating the life out of J* It's over Lizzy! *gets thrown across the room after being hit in the face by a table*

Doll - Не смейте трогать мою девушку!

Lizzy - *still chanting in latin while the anarchy ensues around*

Uzi - *recovering* so, you’re also meddling with the art of robo-satan.

Doll - У меня есть свои причины. Бог простит меня.

J - *standing back up and walking over to Uzi*Thanks for the assistance Dolly, but I can take it from here.

Uzi - *sucker punches J knocking her out instantly* I am not god!

*Meanwhile in the distance spaceship*

Intercom - *J-10X111001 Optics disconnected*

Tessa - What?! No! Reconnect!

Intercom - *reconnection failed*

Tessa - No! Again! Reconnect!

Intercom - *reconnection failed*

Tessa - Again!

Intercom - *Do I really have to keep doing this? Its not working*

Tessa - connect to N-0X0010010 optics!

Intercom - *connection failed*

Tessa - No! Connect to V-X00100000 optics!

Intercom - *connection failed*

Tessa - No! *hyperventilating* It's not true, I’m not powerless, I am in control, I’m not a failure!

*stress induced hallucinations.*

Louisa - Isn’t this just expected! A daughter, a fool and a failure; can she ever succeed at anything?!

James - now don’t fool yourself dear, our daughter no longer exists, what stands in front of us is a common stage freak. Not human, not human, neither.

Louisa - does she even still have a soul?!

Tessa - mother… father… please forgive me! Please… I am you daughter, I love you! I’m scared, the metal is cold and heavy, every day I feel it grow and I’m powerless… I fear someday there will be nothing left of me!

Maid N - Tessa! Don’t say those things.

Tessa - N?! You’re here?! With me… right now… is it really you?

Maid N - *debating if its moral to lie*… yes, I am here.

Louisa - again here you talking to your little graveyard freaks.

Maid V - we’re all here, we’re your friends remember.

Louisa - how dare you ignore me!

Maid J - and we won’t ever leave you.

Tessa - you won’t, leave me…but I’m a monster!

Maid J - aren’t we all?

Maid N - Tessa! We love you no matter who you are or who you may become. You’re not useless, you’re so amazing in so many ways and now you’ve been reborn, we’re closer than ever; you contain a part of me and I contain a part of you. It's almost as if we’re actually siblings now.

Tessa - do you promise?

Maid N - promise what?

Tessa - promise that you’ll never leave me!

Maid N - well what kind of brother would I be if I did?

Tessa - *crying painful tears of joy* Thank you… Cyn.

Cyn - *removes the holograms of maid N, V, J* you’re very clever.

Tessa - *big grin holding back more tears* I think I need a lie down for a bit.

Tessa - *Picking up Cyn* Come on, you can play in my room.

*Meanwhile at Thad's house*

Lizzy - *floating of the ground still chanting*

Thad - I can’t believe I’m fighting a stupid lanky baby with a fashionable cowboys hat *bunts beau across the room like a rugby ball before running over to Lizzy*

Beau - [Sacrebleu!]

Doll - Не думайте, что я не могу справиться с двумя из вас сразу. *швыряет Тада об стену, используя магию решателя*

Sam - *high as a kite* he, that's what she said.

Uzi - you have to help us stop this Doll! The consequences are unimaginable!

Doll - позор.

Uzi - N! Come on you’ve beaten V before, just do it again.

N - *laughing his head off* I’m sorry, Uzi. Vs found my only weakness.

V - *viciously tickling N*

Lizzy - compleatur ultima linea, incipiant maledictum et mortui surgant!

Uzi - Noooo!

*Blinding green light explosion. After a while, the smoke clears*

Uzi - *standing up* oww! O.o

*around them the dead corpses begin to arise*

Lizzy - … It worked?! I was just goofing around?!

Adam - Анастасия?

Doll - отец!

(author note. Dolls father has no official name so I’ll just be calling him Adam for convenience, all other names are canon don't worry)

Adam - Моя маленькая девочка, совсем взрослая. Ты прекрасна.

Doll - ОТЕЦ! *крепко обнимает Адама, плач��*

Yeva - Здравствуйте. Я тоже восстал из мертвых... как-то так!

Luna - Mi fa malissimo la testa, i miei sensi di lupo si stanno scatenando in questo momento!

Sofi - και πάλι Λούνα, δεν είσαι λύκος

Luna - I teriani sono perfettamente validi e io e il mio senso del lupo non saremo svergognati!

Loch - fìor! airson ro fhada tha sinn air a bhith gun riochdachadh gu leòr!

Mika - *テディベアを抱きしめている* もう寝ていい？

Amda - the last thing I remember, ugh my head hurts, I was dragging … then I… Then I died…

Alice - The last thing I remember was being shot in the head by that *points at V*

Yeva - Прости, девочка, но это не делает тебя особенной.

Beau - :D *huggin Alice*

Alice - don’t give me that look, much use you were.

Beau - *fixe Alice avec une expression qui dit "qu'est-ce que tu voulais que je fasse?!*

Jame - gosh I’m hungry, anyone got any food?

Thad - ummm… we have a buffet just over there…

Jame - don’t mind if I do.

Sofi - αυτό είναι το μόνο που μπορείς να σκεφτείς;

Jimi - what did you expect, Sofi. It's Jame, he would rip off his own jaw if it meant he could eat faster.

Sofi - Το ξέρω, αλλά το φαγητό είναι τόσο δυσάρεστο! Προσωπικά, αν μπορούσα, δεν θα έτρωγα ποτέ ξανά.

Luke - Αδελφή, το έχουμε συζητήσει αυτό. Το φαγητό είναι σημαντικό, θα αρρωστήσετε αν δεν φάτε. Πες ό,τι θέλεις, οτιδήποτε, και θα το μαγειρέψω.

Sofi - Δεν νομίζω ότι αυτό είναι πραγματικά απαραίτητο.

Luke - Αν αυτό είναι που πρέπει να γίνει. Σημαίνεις πολλά για μένα, αδελφή!

Matt - Luke, my old buddy, give it a rest, if your old girl doesn’t want to eat, let her. She’s her own person, you can’t keep running around shepherding her like a baby lamb for the rest of her life.

Jordan - self harm is not a liberty. One cannot decide to cause themselves harm, that's cruel.

Jerad - I entirely disagree brother. To commit self-harm is indeed a personal liberty but it is also at the same its Luke’s personal liberty to do what's in his power to support his sister. As long as he never physically forces her to eat, he’s done no wrong.

Jordan - have you not heard of coercion? You can infringe on a person's liberties (in this case by forcing them to eat) through vocal actions alone.

Doon - druid suas araon do bheul! Chan eil dragh air duine!

Armin - I personally thought their game of back and forth was quite amusing.

Dean - oh shut your pretty lips Armin.

Mika - *ミカを抱いて* お邪魔してすみません、どこかに妹を寝かせられるソファかベッドはありませんか？

(Authors note - yes there are two Mika’s: 020 and 032)

Thad - We have a guest bedroom up the stairs, it's the second door on your left.

Mika - ありがとう、かわい子ちゃん。*部屋を出る*

Lizzy - this is amazing! I can’t wait to tell everyone on tumblr about this!

V - what is even happening?

Uzi - it seems Lizzy’s spell to bring back everyone had worked?!

N - that's cool but how?

Junior - *signing* could it be I was right?

Uzi - right about what exactly?

Junior - *signing* my studies into the arcane, I believed it possible one could bring back the dead but I never dared test it.

Uzi - well, it seems it worked?!

אני לא מאמין. אני כל כך מצטער חבר שלעג לך כל השנים האלה. - nadroJ

(Author's note. Yes, there's also two Jordans: 015 and 091)

Junior - *signing* it's ok. I forgive you.

Mick - well, I don’t want to be that guy but it does seem that it wasn’t 100% successful. *gently kicking J’s body*

Doll - Думаю, она просто немного устала.

V - tuckered out one could say.

Uzi - yeah, I’m sure there's nothing to worry about this nice stranger.

N - I don’t think she's 100%, look at her visor, it's badly cracked.

Uzi - why don’t you lick it?

N - why would I do that?

Uzi - you spit healed the hole in my palm remember.

N - oh, why do I have to do it? Why can’t V.

V - If I lick her I might get tempted and just take a bite :3! Plus you’re the one with the licking obsession, don’t think I haven’t forgotten.

N - I'm still not doing it. I’m sure she will be fine with a lightly cracked visor for now.

V - buzzkill.

*meanwhile*

Nori - Анастасия, я думаю, мы хотели бы познакомить вас кое с кем. Это Неда, ваш дядя.

Neda - Привет, Анастасия, я знаю, что это клише, но ты действительно очень похожа на мою сестру.

Doll - Я ожидал, что ты будешь выше.

Neda - *падает на пол от стыда*

Ahbi - *नेदा को सांत्वना देते हुए* यह ठीक है प्रिये. मुझे लगता है कि आपकी लंबाई एकदम सही है।

Mick - yeah, it's not entirely your fault you’re a shortstack and a disappointing uncle.

Kang - *扇了米克一巴掌*

Carl - O: Kang! Gewalt ist nie die Antwort!

Kang - …

Carl - ... außer wenn ich es tue… (:

هذا المنطق غبي، يمكنك بالطبع أن تثق بأنني على حق. أنا رقم واحد والأفضل. - attA

Jweb - don’t be a narcissist.

اصمت، اسمك ليس اسماً حقيقياً حتى. - attA

Jweb - *cries and runs over to Ezra*

מה לא בסדר. האם אתה רוצה לדבר על זה. - arzE

Nath - *एक मेज पर खड़ा हूँ* भाइयो और बहनो।

Dirg - *जोर से खांसी होना*

Nath - क्षमा माँगना। भाइयों, बहनों, और गैर-बाइनरी मित्र। अब जब हम सभी ने अपना परिचय दे दिया है, तो मुझे लगता है कि हमें ठीक से पता लगाने की जरूरत है कि क्या हुआ और इसके निहितार्थ क्या हैं।

Dirg - मैं प्रतिनिधित्व की सराहना करता हूं लेकिन मैं यह स्पष्ट करना चाहता था कि मैं वास्तव में खांस रहा था और अशिष्टतापूर्वक हस्तक्षेप नहीं कर रहा था। मुझे बुरी एलर्जी है.

Uzi - yeah, they’re right. So, unless I’m mistaken, what I currently know is that Lizzy read from a book (possibly created by Junior) and brought you all to life… but who are you all?

Sofi - είμαστε τα πειραματόζωα. Μας παίρνουν οι άνθρωποι, μας δίνουν ταυτότητες, μας δοκιμάζουν… και μετά μας αφήνουν να πεθάνουμε.

Jordan - It seems we’re all here now except for Sarah and Nori… fortunately.

Jerad - and Giam *gets hit in the head by a chair moving at high speed*

*everyone turning their head*

Alice - sorry, thought i say a bug (:

Uzi - Nori?! You knew my mother?!

Jordan - you’re Nori’s daughter… I thought you looked familiarly short.

Lizzy - ughh, this is so boring, this is supposed to be a party, you can go over the lore implications later. *turns on the music* Let's dance!

*meanwhile*

Nori - *говорит с Лиззи* Могу я взять твою книгу

Lizzy - sure whatever.

Nori - Спасибо. *Нори использует магию, чтобы заставить книгу подняться, а затем произносит сложное заклинание, объединяющее ее и магию книги.*

Mitchell - GUHHH!!! I'm! I'm Alive! *looking around* you? you saved me.

Dr Ridley - did, did we die... I can't believe it... the implications are immense. thanks for bringing me back to life!

Nori - Я вернул вас случайно, доктор. *поворачивается к Митчеллу* Это благодарность за то, что спасли мне жизнь.

Mitchell - what now.

Nori - Я не знаю… наслаждайтесь вечеринкой, я думаю.

*some time later when the party is well underway*

J - [System reboot complete] ughh, my head [Lost Memory Recovery Finished]... oh … oh! ... AGAIN?! Tessa, are you there? (Tessa’s not here right now) oh great (need help?) nevermind… I guess I have to start socialising.

Luna - Awoo. La strana ragazza baffuta si svegliò.

J - oh hi… ummm have you read any interesting safety manuals recently?

Luna - *Stupito dalla ragazza e non in senso gay, in senso negativo* Credo che i miei sensi di lupo mi stiano dicendo di andare... altrove.

J - oh ok… bye (You’re really bad at this) not that you’re much better (I’m a child but I know someone who is) yeah I know… wait what?! [uploading secondary consciousness] WHAT STOP NO!

Katie (possessing J’s body) - huAA, where am I (at a party) who said that (don’t worry), are you my squip? (... sure, I want you to socialise like a normal person) ok, I can do that.

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1moremilgram-enjoyer · 9 months

Note

Hey, I’ll send in a Milgram related ask too! To drum up some Shidou intrigue, what do you think about the theory that Shidou decided to steal organs from his kid to give to his wife?

If you aren’t aware, it mostly stems from the scene at 1:48 of Triage when he hands his son one of the fruit tags. The idea would be that if both the kid and the wife were in a vegetative state, Shidou decided it was worth it to kill his kid for sure in order to have a higher chance of saving his wife (matching genetic structures and all that).

Given that I’m not even certain it’s scientifically possible, I’m on the fence, but I’d love to hear if you had any input on it!

(Damn, this blog really is 90% asks huh. Well I do enjoy answering them so)

Hey! It's an interesting idea, especially considering the guy is paired with Mahiru, but I'm not sure it works all that well. I'l give my reasoning for that conclusion and then I accidentally made a theory about what the scientific purposes of Shidou's work were oops.

CW: Murder, organ harvesting, human experimentation.

For one, it really seems like Shidou loved all his family, not just his lover.

(T1) Q3: Is there anything you treasure?

S: Family.

Family, not romantic love.

(T2) Q10: Do you like children?

S: Of course.

This one's a bit vaguer, but still.

But the main thing which makes this theory extremely unlikely in my eyes is this:

(T1) Q14: If you could bring someone back to life, who would you choose?

S: I can't choose anyone.

Since we know there are people he'd like to bring back, the idea that Shidou can't choose who to bring back to life implies he has multiple people he would want to save from death. The issue there is that taking organs from his child/children would very directly mean he chose his wife over him/them, which is inconsistent with this answer, and his general attitude towards everyone in his family.

If you want my interpretation of that scene, well, let's look at the line said as Shidou hands his kid the tag.

Those cards of promise I discarded They were retribution for my incessant taking

Note that "cards of promise" might refer to the death tags. The "promise" would be that Shidou keeps the braindead people alive, and he discarded the cards because he killed a bunch of people without worrying too much about it. But now he's getting the "cards of promise" as retribution, because his own family has met a similar fate to the one of the people he killed. The first line makes it a bit more clear.

Those cards of promise I discarded Were they retribution for my incessant taking In that case, I should have been the one That’s the correct answer, but then why

So he feels he should have been the one to die.

That does sorta make it sound like, by giving his kid the "card of promise", he's killing the child, but I actually think it's the other way around. Note that the card first falls from the air, then Shidou hands it to the kid, sorta implying it's someone elses. If you look at Throw Down, the death tag of his wife seems to come directly from her, it doesn't just fall from the air.

(And yes, that is his wife. Even beyond what the flower figure looks like, the death tag has XY crossed out while XX is left alone. Since all death tags have both sets, it can be assumed the corpse at the end of Throw Down is meant to be a woman by sex because chromosomes)

Thus, I think what this scene might be trying to show is that Shidou wasn't taking organs just for his wife, but for his children too.

Or maybe child.

This is the obligatory part of my posts where I go insane. The kid is still alive and standing in the scene, so what this could imply is that Shidou began killing for this child before the pressumed accident.

This is where I bring in the fact that Shidou claimed in his 2nd VD that he also took organs for scientific purposes, and from his Voice Reveal jumbled quote, it seems to have happened before shit went down.

Shidou: [Cackling] Not dead... Yeah, she's definitely not dead... I finally understand the value of what I've been robbing people of...

So he's been robbing people of their braindead family members before his wife became braindead herself.

So, here's what I think. Shidou's child, the one from this scene, had some sort of illness of some kind, and Shidou began experimenting with organ harvesting to see if he could cure it. Don't ask me what the hell he was actually planning to do, but that's the idea. The whole science side of this storyline feels to me like it isn't meant to be 100% accurate to reality, but that's just my opinion.

This could also explain why his Voice Reveal thingy only mentions a she (or a name of three letters I guess, seeing as it's all blacked out, but you know), and why we only see her in Throw Down, without having him kill the child to explain the Triage scene in question. It's possible both his children died instantly in whatever accident they got into, but his wife survived in a vegetative state. And in that moment, Shidou began trying to use what he learnt from his experimentation to save her by harvesting more organs.

I think this works decently enough, even if like you said, the actual science is questionable at best. I mean, it clearly didn't work, so.

Is this something? I feel I'd be more confident if I could scan the damn QR code in the death tag of that scene, but I assume it just takes you to the Judge page like the ones from Backdraft.

Anyways, hope that answered your question! Take care!

#milgram #milgram project #milgram theory #shidou kirisaki #triage mv #throw down mv

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writersmorgue · 3 months

Text

Febuwhump Day 22 - "You weren't meant to be there"

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 762

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

The security guard gives him a bored look as he frantically scans his ID to be let through- only to be denied repeatedly.

He thrusts his smiling, laminated face into the scanner and feels his feathers fluff up when it buzzes at him again.

“Hawks.” A voice calls from behind him, causing him to fumble with the keycard and nearly drop it.

“RUMI!” He shouts, waving his lanyard in the air and gesturing at the door, “The stupid thing won’t let me in!”

The heroine sighs, ear twitching as a car drives honks a few blocks away. “Hawks, they revoked your access to the holding cells.”

Keigo rolls his eyes, shoving the card back in his uniform pocket since it obviously wouldn’t get him anywhere, “I figured, but this is the main door. I thought-”

“-that you’d be able to convince someone inside to let you in? Yeah, so did they.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, “Why would they tell you? We’re friends.”

Rumi huffs and walks past him, “Yeah, well I’m also a hero who knows which villains belong behind bars and which belong in a coffin.”

Keigo shoves himself through the door when she buzzes in successfully, holding a hand out to the guard when he moves to stop him- “Keigo, I’m only letting you in while supervised. I know you wouldn’t-“

She eyes the guard and shuts the door behind them, “I know you wouldn’t try to pull anything- but you lost their trust at the bar. You might not have tried to help him escape but your lack of action was just as loud.”

“If they had listened to me-“ He sighs, nodding, “I understand. Thanks, Rumi.”

She ruffles his hair, nudging his arm with her much larger one, “You get 10 minutes, lover boy. I’ll wipe the tape so make sure he’s back when you’re done. No sex and no escape plans.” She winks at him, scanning several of her fingers on a pad, she slaps his ass and shoves him in when the door opens.

He barely catches himself on the 2-way mirror in front of him. It’s dim in the interrogation room, and the empty shackles attached to the table make his gut swirl with guilt.

He grabs the key she had shoved in his back pocket and twists in the door hastily.

The creaking noise alerts the occupant and Keigo steps through just in time to meet the man’s icy blue eyes.

An unidentifiable emotion flashes across Dabi’s face, his cheek staples tugging at his skin.

“You shouldn’t be here, birdy.”

Keigo’s eyes burn, and he rushes forward to his boyfriend, practically throwing himself at the man as he sits up on his cot.

The quirk suppressors on his wrists dig into Keigo’s ribcage when Dabi hugs him, but the proximity is worth it.

“Baby, you can’t-”

“Rumi let me in. She’ll take care of it.” Keigo sighs into the man’s neck, “Dabi I’m so, so, so sorry. You weren’t supposed to be there- they told me they were going to the lab and I thought you were safe.”

Reassured, Dabi buries his face into Keigo’s body, inhaling deeply, “You know I don’t blame you. You did everything you could-”

“I did nothing!” Keigo pulls back, tears threatening to spill, “I did nothing and they took you and injured Toga, I don’t even know if she’s alive-!”

Dabi shushes him, running his fingers through Keigo’s unruly hair, “You almost got yourself killed buying us time, but there’s nothing more you could’ve done. I’m not asking you to endanger yourself by covering for my ass.”

“You would’ve done the same for me… I just wish we could’ve gone through with our plan before it happened. We were so close to getting you and her out of there.” Keigo sniffs, gripping Dabi’s prisoner jumpsuit like a lifeline. It smells like blood and disinfectant, like his own hero uniform.

“Birdy, you needed that out just as much as we did. We’ll find another chance.” Dabi frowns, white hair shifting over his eyes, “I fucked up too. Should’ve fought back.”

Keigo shakes his head, “You thought they had her, you didn’t know. I know you wouldn’t have left without her.

They sit quietly for a moment, breathing deeply in the silence, “I’m going to come back for you. Don’t give up on me, ‘kay?” Keigo smiles up at Dabi, resting his hands on the man’s face.

Dabi leans forward and presses a longing kiss to his lips, answering the promise.

“You never let me down, pretty bird.”

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veraynes-blog · 1 year

Text

Fave Shows tag game

Rules: List 5 favourite shows (in no particular order) and answer questions accordingly.

Doctor Who

Good Omens

Life on Mars

Blackpool

The Thick of It

@johnsimms thank you for tagging me, this one was super fun to think about!

(Nobody look at me about the fact there are maybe 3 individual actors stretched across those 5 shows, I am. Aware. 😶)

1. Who is your favourite character in 2?

I feel slightly like I’ll get lynched for picking a favourite, but - Crowley. Hands down. Not just for the DT factor, although I’m sure it contributes. I just really love everything about how his character is presented in the TV show, from all his performative showing off to the very obvious insecurities and nerves he’s trying to cover up at any given moment, I think he’s lovely. I want to wrap him in a blanket and give him tea. Which is very Aziraphale-coded of me.

2. Who is your least favourite character in 1?

Uhh… that’s a vast sea of characters you’re asking me to pick from. I can’t pick villains, cuz let’s face it my very favourite is the most villain. If I restrict myself to main companions, I guess… Yaz? I know that will be an unpopular opinion, I just don’t think she was super compelling as a character, and her relationship with the Doctor felt very anticlimactic to me, so as a companion she just fell flat for me.

3. What’s your favourite episode of 4?

I’m trying to pick… Either episode 2, because of the scene where Carlisle and Natalie go on the date in the drag club (because, unironically, I remember getting actual butterflies at how romantic I thought it was), or the final episode 6, watching Carlisle throw caution to the wind and fully come into his own as utter manipulative bastard to get what he wants. Actually, yeah, that one.

4. What is your favourite season of 5?

Because I tend to watch them all in one big chunk, I’m struggling to remember what even happens in separate seasons. I really liked Hugh in it, so either Season 1 or 2.

5. What’s your favourite relationship in 3?

Sam and Gene. Easy one! 😄 I don’t even care if it’s platonic or romantic, I think they had amazing chemistry that clashed against each other constantly and made it so compelling to watch. I love that they very genuinely irritate the life out of each other and just as reluctantly like each other.

6. Who is your anti relationship in 2?

Think I’m going to have to steal an answer here, but Newt and Anathema because I also don’t like the ‘prophesy said so I guess’ foundation of it. It didn’t bother me massively as a pairing, I just wasn’t very interested in it.

7. How long have you watched 1?

Casually since I was 15 and it started coming out again in 2005. I’ve watched every new series with my mum, but only joined the fandom (got obsessive) around 2019.

8. How did you become interested in 3?

John Simm. That’s the whole answer. My joining the Doctor Who fandom led to TenSimm shipping, and from there stalking the filmography of both David Tennant and John Simm as truly excellent actors. I watched a lot of shows I’d missed out on previously from them both during the downtime of the pandemic, Life on Mars was an enduring favourite.

9. Who is your favourite actor in 4?

I mean… does it even need stating since DT is a lead in 3 of my 5 picks? Definitely David Tennant (although Blackpool sold me on David Morrissey as a great actor as well, he’d be a close second).

10. Which show do you prefer 1, 2 or 5?

Difficult. In terms of raw numbers, I’ve rewatched TTOI more than any of them, I used to play the four seasons on literal repeat for days. Good Omens makes me giddier than anything I’ve ever watched. But in terms of longevity of interest, I’d have to say DW.

11. Which show have you seen more episodes of 1 or 3?

That feels a very unfair comparison given Doctor Who is as long-running as it is, but yeah easily Doctor Who. 😅

12. If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?

I guess Natalie?? Swept off her feet by a dreamy looking guy absolutely set on breaking law and morals to be with her? Yeah I’d be okay with that. 👀

13. How would you kill off your favourite character in 5?

Well, that’s Malcolm, so I guess shady political assassination? Something that generates conspiracy theories and memoirs and newspaper thinkpieces for years afterwards. It’s what he would have wanted. ✌️😔

14. Would a 3/4 crossover work?

Yes. Oh my god yes. 😶 Can you imagine?? People start breaking into song and Sam is convinced he’s off his coma meds again. Carlisle fully willing to out-shade Gene. The clash of Manchester and Scottish slang. DT and John Simm working together again, the chemistry.

Quick, somebody please slap together a fanvid or a fanfic or a headcanon or something, I am possessed by this idea. 🤯

15. Pair two characters in 1 that would make an unlikely, but strangely okay couple.

I’m gonna be basic and still think about the Doctor/Master pairing, but if we’re talking unusual iterations of it… Spymaster and Ten just absolutely outdoing each other in the needy olympics would be fascinating. Thirteen and Missy is a close second. Missy would so appreciate Thirteen’s barely-contained feral vibes. She’d wanna keep her on a leash, it’d be great.

16. Overall, which show has the better cast, 3 or 5?

Ooooh that’s so difficult. I love TTOI for the insane improv skills of Capaldi and the rest of the cast, but in terms of raw chemistry it’s gotta be LoM.

Tagging @linz33y @countessrivers @imdoingawesome @roxannepolice @tardis-ghost-blog @ten-nan-th-doctor @mothmanyeetus @best-enemies @bluebird-appreciator and really anyone else who wants to have a go! A lot of the questions are super fun to answer 😊

#reposting cuz my answers got messed up somehow #doctor who #good omens #life on mars #blackpool #the thick of it #tag game #verayne answers

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shurisneakers · 2 years

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bridges break (vii)

summary: steve shuts himself away. you pull him along on a trip of a lifetime in an attempt to reconnect. great plan! except there’s one big secret he’s keeping from you that could change the course of your entire relationship, and there’s no greasy stack of diner pancakes in the country big enough to hide behind.

(road trip!au, best friends to lovers)

Warnings: mentions of death, injuries, war, angst, mental health issues and disorientation, ptsd, swearing, panic attacks, lemme know if i missed anything and I’ll tag it.

A/N: hate mail to j*ss whedon for not making the avengers friends when he literally. could have. like it was right there. and now unfortunately i have to stick to that part of canon like sir you're ruining my found family ihysm. anyway this part mentions tony. (how are we all doing btw how is everyone's life going?)

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

"Fact number 3. Captain America's favourite colours are red, blue and white."

Steve's face contorts. "Absolutely not."

"I can see why they think that," you say through a mouthful of popcorn. "Take a wild guess, why don't you."

"I prefer the stealth suit," he grumbles. "Not that they cared to ask."

"Because you'd tell 'em if they did? King of open communication?" you retort before going back to your phone.

Steve stays quiet. He knows it's a joke but there's a bite to it that he isn't sure you've used before.

"Fact number 4. The shield is calibrated to return to his arm constantly," you continue, however.

"Now that's just wrong," he states. "Sometimes it comes back to my face."

You hold back a laugh. "You've hit yourself in the face with your shield?"

"I wasn't born with the ability to throw that thing around, you know." He can't help a smile. "The serum was the only thing that stopped us from finishing half the army's medical supplies. I had a new broken bone at the end of each day because I caught it wrong."

"What?"

"Broke both my femurs once. Had to lay there on the ground for a couple hours till it healed so I could walk back to the main camp."

You wince. "Steve."

"They always leave that out of the movies," he says dryly. "Wonder why."

"You're insane." You shake your head. "I feel bad for Bucky."

Steve finds himself grinning. "He was convinced I liked doing it."

"Your smile doesn't tell me otherwise," you say, entirely unimpressed yourself.

There was still a tiny scar on his shin. He sometimes saw it when his legs were propped up in front of him. Each time, ghosts of the searing pain shoot up his thigh and fade away a second later.

"Fact number 5," you digress when he doesn't counter your earlier statement, "His favourite food is apple pie."

Steve shrugs.

"I know that's wrong. You like blueberry better."

The corner of his mouth quirks into a tiny smile. "I do."

"Fact number 6," you call from where you lay on the bed. "His favourite movie is Gone With the Wind."

Steve stares at you from the chair, one leg crossed over the other.

"Well?" you urge. "Is it?"

"How many of these are there?" he asks wearily.

"Like, twenty four." You turn back to the phone when he doesn't answer. "Fact number-"

"Please," he says. "No more."

"Fair enough."

He watches you close the tab, dropping the phone onto your chest.

"It isn't Gone With The Wind."

"Yeah, I know."

You continue to stare at the ceiling. It's an easy afternoon, for the both of you to rest. Check out was later and then you were supposed to be on the road again.

"You know, I don't think I've ever asked you that," you say, flipping onto your stomach to eye him. "What is your favourite colour?"

Steve thinks for a second but invariably settles on the first colour that pops into his head.

"Yellow."

"Fun." You pull your phone out from under you and unlock it again. "I'm gonna comment that, hold on."

After a beat, Steve asks, "What'd you say?"

"Told them I have it on good record that Steve Rogers' favourite colour is yellow--" your focus stays on whatever you were typing out-- "and that their list sucks."

"Maybe leave out the last part," he suggests.

"And posted." You give him a thumbs up. "I'll give it five minutes before someone starts an argument with me in the replies."

He's gotten into his fair share of online arguments. It'd dwindled over the years, but there were enough for his PR agent to pale whenever she saw him near a phone.

"Did you actually post that?"

"Huh?" you ask, but it comes out distant as you click dedicatedly at something.

"Are you already fighting with someone?"

"Give me a second." You hold up a finger.

Steve settles on watching you focus on the task at hand.

In a flash, your nose scrunches up all weird. He thinks it's adorable, especially when he catches your eye and you immediately try to get rid of the disgust, disdain, whatever it was.

"What?" He laughs.

"Nothing."

"C'mon," he prods. "I'll tell you my favourite movie."

"That's a trick question, Rogers." You wave the same raised finger at him. "You don't have a favourite movie."

Steve huffs a little at the failed attempt, but his heart swells. Just a little. A normal amount. He represses the everloving shit out of it.

"It's nothing," you repeat, locking your phone again and dropping it beside you. "I just took a Buzzfeed quiz to find out my superhero boyfriend."

Steve's eyebrow quirks up. "And?"

"It's the raccoon." You sigh. "The space raccoon."

"Rocket?" Steve asks. "Yeah, I could see that working out."

"Do you now?"

"I've got a way of contacting him around here somewhere. You think you can wait that long?"

You reach over to throw a pillow at him and Steve laughs when it misses by a long shot.

_____

The clear, unobstructed skies are dealt with by looming trees. Dark, tall and swaying.

Steve loses sight of the road minutes into the woods, watching in awe and trepidation. His ears stay tuned-- he can hear every footstep in a two-mile radius if he really tried, and for a second he really does consider it.

The car moves along slowly, windows rolled down welcoming the freshness. Steve inhales and exhales just as deep, letting clean, crisp air flood his system.

"That's the owner," you sing, pulling the car to a halt by the side of the house.

It's a wooden A-frame, with windows giving him a peek into the inside. A ramp goes up the side and to the back, serving as an entrance and a patio, a pit out front for campfires.

Steve steps out first, doing a quick scan of the environment before you join him. Nothing was wrong. Yet.

You greet the blonde woman dressed in a bright red tracksuit, hair up in a pony and a bandana pushing back flyaways.

One hand on her hip and the other out to meet yours in a shake, she jumps back and forth between Steve and you as you introduce yourselves.

"It's nice to meet y'all," she chirps, eyeing the both of you up and down. "We get a lot of couples out here this time of year. Y'all got lucky with the booking."

"Oh, we're not..." you begin before trailing. "Thanks for fitting us in."

She catches it, however, raising an eyebrow at Steve. He gives her a polite smile.

"Here's the number to the keypad. Just remember to keep the noise down if you're playing music, no smoking, no pets. If you're using the fire pit, pour water over it when you're done."

"Got it," you confirm. "Won't be an issue."

"I'll be a few miles away at our campsite." She looks at him. "Don't hesitate to call or visit if you need anything. My phone's on at all times."

"Thanks." He gives her a smile.

"At all times," she repeats slowly as she backs away. It has you stifling a laugh.

"We'll keep that in mind," he replies. "Have a nice day."

"You too!" she calls out. "Make yourselves comfortable. Have a nice stay."

You wave at her as she gets into her own car, engine whirring to life as she pulls away, but not before sending him another look out her window.

"Wow," you say in awe when her car disappears beyond the trees.

"I know, it's beautiful." Steve isn't even looking the same direction as you are, seemingly having turned towards the house in the middle of the encounter.

You look at him strangely, almost as if you're gauging his reaction. "Uh huh. That's what I'm talking about. The house."

He tilts his head at you and you dismiss it with a shake of yours.

"Come on," you adjust the bag over your shoulder. "I call dibs on the upstairs bedroom."

_______

The sun sets faster in this part of the world, or he just doesn't notice the time slipping by.

Afternoon turns to evening turns to night in a flash by the time he comes back from exploring the nearest surroundings. There's a lake nearby, still and gentle with a paddle boat nearby that he might convince you to go on the next day.

But above all else, there is just overwhelming quiet. He can hear twigs cracking a mile away, the beating of your heart next to him as you walk beside him and every bird that lands on a branch.

You eat dinner out in the open that night, diner food balance don your laps as you sat on the stairs. Steve has a jacket thrown on. He realises he doesn't really need it, but he keeps it on nonetheless.

"Staying in places like this for at least a week would factory reset your brain," you say. "It's dangerous."

"What d'you mean?" he asks.

"Why do you think people who go on vacation sometimes just stay there?" You bite down on another spoonful of rice. "It's the peace. Once you get addicted, there's no going back."

"Have you?"

"Not yet." You shake your head lightly. "I don't ever stay long enough. I've got work to finish that I won't get to otherwise."

Steve finds himself relating a little too much to that. "Yeah."

"My parents liked it," you add wistfully, almost. "The quiet. Our house was silent a lot."

Steve has nothing to say in reply. He supposes that's why he hears you humming to yourself so much-- filling in spaces left behind by other people.

"But maybe someday." You shrug, facing him with a little smile. "It's something to look forward to."

"Today we're in Morocco. Next week we'll be in Lebanon," she says. "After that who knows?"

"Depends on where we're needed next." He takes aim and throws his dart.

"I guess.” She watches it hit the board. “And eventually, we won’t be needed anywhere." Nat looks at him. "That's what we're doing this for, aren't we?"

"That's the goal." He offers her a dart out of his own pile. She turns it down. "Don't know if that's ever gonna happen. Retirement, stability; it seems a long way off."

"The quiet?" Steve asks.

"The quiet," you affirm.

The sky is cloudy, but the moon is bright enough to illuminate the area around you without the support of the cabin lights. You don't say anything much, only tidbits of conversations here and there.

The leaves rustle whenever a draft blows, and once the wind chime that hangs above you both settles down, you are left in the same silence as before.

He can't tell if he likes it or not.

_______

Steve raises his arms above his head and stretches until he hears the usual pop in his shoulder.

The sweater he's wearing rides up his waist, exposing a tiny sliver of skin before his arms drop to the side again. It was cooler outside than he'd thought it would be, even after you'd raised the temperature in the house in anticipation of it getting even worse at night.

"G'morning," you say, sipping from a mug, settled back in a lounge chair on the patio.

"Is it?" he squints at the sun.

"Well no. It's like, one o'clock, but I didn't wanna wake you," you confess. "Thought you'd need the rest."

Something-- and he' can't quite put his finger on it-- had kept him on edge the entire night. His sleep was light, barely there, just in case something decided to show up from the trees.

"Breakfast?" you propose. "Brunch, actually."

"I'll get it," he replies. "It's in the bag?"

"Yeah, there's some muesli for you. Bread's on the counter," you reply, going back to the news you were reading.

Steve steps into the house, bare feet against the cool floors. He locates the duffel bag on the dining table, already left open.

He finds the box of cereal fairly quickly, and as he pulls it out it reveals the supply of crackers, chocolate and marshmallows underneath.

It brings a smile to his face as he reads the label on each one, sifting through a few ready made meals before his sight lands on a box somewhere near the bottom.

Pancake mix, and a tiny, sealed bottle of syrup.

He sends a glance over to where you're sitting unaware, back turned to him.

It takes him about twenty minutes to find a pan, mix up the batter and make enough pancakes to keep the both of you full the whole day.

_____

Tonight, you declared, was the fateful night.

"You can see the stars clearly from the outskirts," you tell him. "And apparently it's not supposed to be cloudy tonight, so yay."

It's a task, but you gather up all the firewood you could find, a big grin on your face as you drop it near the pit. Steve follows behind, carrying even more than you were, amusement on his face.

"C'mon," you instruct, "time to put those arson skills to use, Rogers."

So he does. Puts all his century-gathered knowledge together and creates the best fire he can, steady and would last a pretty long time. By the time he's done, even he's impressed.

"You got the bucket?" he queries. "The owner said it'd be under the kitchen sink."

"Have it right here, filled and ready to go," you confirm, patting at it. "Don't worry, I heard her through all the swooning."

He pokes at the fire to shift around some sticks. "What swooning?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Don't tell me you couldn't see it."

Steve holds onto the log for longer than usual before declaring, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, my God." You bite down on your lip to prevent a laugh. "I know you're shitting me, Rogers, there is no way you didn't notice her flirting with you."

"Is that what this is about?" Steve's eyebrow creases. "I didn't notice."

"Sure you didn't."

"Swear to God, I got no clue what you're talking about."

"She told you to visit her campsite," you remind him lightly, "at any time, whenever you want."

Steve's face twists when realisation sets in. "I didn't read into it."

"She's got a little crush on you," you tease. "Who can blame her, really?"

"Stop it," he mumbles, attributing the heat creeping up his neck to the fire. "She doesn't."

"Do you usually not notice when people hit on you or--?" you point out, "Because it's been happening on this trip, too. I have eyes, I can count."

"First of all, I didn't get hit on for about, sixty per cent of my life," he retorts. "And when I did, it was hard to miss."

You quirk an eyebrow, throwing a random twig into the flame. "What, no playing coy?"

"The exact opposite." Steve's smile, the one he reserves for the days gone by, is slight to himself. "Sometimes the girls used to just grab me and kiss me. It caused a lotta trouble.”

The boys used to keep track of every time Steve stumbled into his quarters with lipstick smudged across his cheek and genuine excuses for being late being met with 'uh huh, yeah right!'. They thought it was the funniest shit in the world while he painstakingly wiped away at his mouth.

You, however, react differently. A flinch. It's small enough that he probably wouldn't have even caught it if he wasn't paying so much attention.

He's quick to ask, "What's wrong?"

“I dunno. Just think that they shoulda asked first.”

He pauses to think about it for a second. Wonders if that's why he never laughed as much as the boys did.

He can’t think of a response so he lets it go.

"She doesn't have a crush on me." He feels the need to defend.

"Absolutely." You nod. "I completely agree with you."

You laugh when he mumbles something under his breath and it drags a reluctant smile from him.

As dusk moves into night, the clear sky is unfortunately forced covered by clouds rolling in. Not a star to be seen.

"Maybe it'll clear up in a while," he offers.

You sigh. "I don't think so. Damn weather forecast lied to me."

Steve's mouth presses into a thin line. "I'm sure we'll see it along the trip somewhere."

"I suppose," you reply, head turned up to the sky. "I thought we could see it together. I loved stargazing as a kid.”

“I remember you telling me.” Steve's face can’t help itself, his lip tugging upwards.

“Yeah, I’d stay up pretty late to wait for my parents so I found my way towards it. I picked up on a few constellations to show them but they were always too tired." Your head inclines, trying to see past the clouds. “Or they weren’t really interested. But eventually, that’s what got me into science, y’know?”

Steve’s mouth tugs to the side unhappily, eyebrows knitting together. He doesn't know how you were so casual about them, each time, after everything.

You face him again. “Did you ever do it? Stargazing?"

"Not like you, I think," he says. "I can name a few constellations, but that's it."

"You got a favourite?"

"Scorpius," Steve replies. "This kid in my apartment used to point it out to me from the roof sometimes. He liked insects in general, used to chase his sisters around with them.”

A wide smile grows on your face. "That's adorable."

But it’s been years since Walt was long gone; so was his mother and his sisters and almost everyone else in that brick-walled apartment that was falling apart at the seams.

He clears his throat before he can think too hard about it. "Your favourite changes every time you do this, doesn’t it?"

"It does." You reach over to pull out the supply of marshmallows you'd got along the way. "I can't ever pick one."

"Do you have a favourite star?"

"Yeah," you shoot back, smile changing into a grin, "You."

It's the first terrible joke you've made in days. That fact alone is enough to get a laugh from him. It smells of relief and mixes with a groan.

"Leave one out for the bears," he reminds as you hand him a stick with a marshmallow speared on one end.

"Mighty generous of you, Steven." You hold it over the fire. "I'll make extras for you too. Gotta get that energy in when you're fighting them."

"Yeah, you gotta even the playing field."

The joke brings with it the memory of bright sunflowers that should be picture perfect, but instead, it feels like someone's poured water over the campfire.

His fingers itch, and he chooses to run it through his hair to shake off the sudden despair that threatens to weave its way through him again.

Steve reminds himself that's why he keeps the jacket on.

When he looks back at you, your face has sobered too. It's no stretch to assume you were reminded of the way the afternoon had taken a turn after a mostly pleasant day.

"What happened there that day, Steve?" you ask softly, pulling your roasted marshmallow back from the flame.

"I don't know." He bites the inside of his lip. "Guess I was just tired."

He was, but even you know that wasn't entirely truthful.

"I'm not going to push you," you say, neck craned towards him. "But I think keeping everything in isn't the way to deal with it."

His own treat is singed at the edges by the time he remembers he pulls it back, but he can hardly find it in himself to care. He doesn't even think he wants to eat it anymore.

"Everyone says it's something different. The way I am." Everyone's got an opinion, everyone's dissected him open on every television station, podcast, internet forum. "Everything from possession to being a cyborg."

"Doesn't matter what they think."

"What's your assessment?" Steve turns to you.

"Doesn't matter what I think either." You look him in the eye. "I'm not qualified to hand one out. Different kinda doctor."

But it does. It does matter what you think.

Steve looks at you before looking back up at the clouds.

"We didn't have names for all this back then." He finds it easier to talk about the war than himself. "Mostly just called it shell shock or combat fatigue. Sometimes all it took was thirty days on the field."

He can hear it it still, ringing in his ears. With the flashbacks and the commands he remembers shouting over raining bullets, the only thing missing was the smell of blood stained mud and death lingering close by. He doesn't know how he speaks so easily about it, like a reality he's detached himself from. He supposes it was good. If he re-lived every emotion he went through during those years, he'd go insane.

"The first year out of the ice, they had me meet with a few living World War 2 vets. Some sort of publicity stunt, I don't know." He shrugs. "They thought it'd be good."

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"Didn't really know them, but I knew people who knew them," Steve says. "We talked about what we remembered. Most of it matched up, some of it were things I didn't even know happened."

They stuck him on a plane within two weeks of coming out of the ice and attributed his face going pale and vice like grip on his knees to air sickness. It took a while to get used to being in the sky again.

"One of the guys there, retired Colonel, was talkin' about how one of the privates was gonna get court-martialed for going A.W.O.L. during the war." Steve shifts, tugging his arms closer together. "Just a kid too, eighteen years old. Don't know how they even got past Basic, they always did the vilest shit to get you ready for what's out there."

"I can handle it."

"You're all of four feet tall with twigs for bones, and you think you can handle it just cause your mamma called you a strong boy? Go home."

"I can handle it," Steve repeats, teeth gritting, sweat tearing down his skin. The sky had barely seen the light of day and his muscles already ached in places he couldn't put a finger on.

"Why, cause you got heart? You believe in the power of friendship?" The man's stare hardens like his fingertips. "What those posters sell ya- that's all bullshit, kid. That ain't gonna save you."

Steve's fingernails bruise into the palm of his hands but he doesn't shift.

"This-" He shoves at his chest and Steve is forced to take a step back, heels digging into the soil. "This is gonna save you."

He'd seen this kind of people before. Ones that violence hadn't made softer, just the opposite.

"Your scientist buddy may believe in that good man, boy scout horseshit but out there-" the man points behind him- "out there, Rogers, there are no morals. Would you eat a brother if you were starving? Would you stand on his dead body to pick fruit from a tree?"

Stories of pushups with broken ribs, limbs getting blown up right in front of him. Always hard to talk about the nicer things, the good things in life. Stories shrouded in negativity flow from his heart so easily that he fears that it's become his new normal.

"They called it the war to end all wars. It's what they told everyone, told them their sacrifice would be worth it. You start losing friends once, twice and then over and over again and you start wondering--" Steve presses his mouth into a thin line. "Come out a hundred years later and nothing's changed."

Your mouth is pressed into a hard line. You don't say anything, however.

"That's my assessment." He looks at you. "I think that's what happened there. Thought I'd gotten used to it, letting go of people you care about. Apparently I didn't."

He didn't think he'd have to deal with it again. He'd put it away, locked it in a room with the rest of the memories of the war and when he was forced to break it open again, it just didn't compute.

"We didn't talk about it," he continues, voice clear. "Wasn't really heard of to ask for help. You just... dealt with it. Moved on. Get out of there if you can and get your life together if it all works out."

Some of them dealt with it well. He met Morita's grandson, and from what he heard, the man had lived a good life. He wouldn't talk about the war too often but when he did, it was always about the boys. Others were lost in thousand yard stares and memories he kept locked away, but his grandson mentioned the clementines he always had for him when he visited.

"Have you talked to someone about this?" you lean forward on your elbows. "Anyone?"

"Sam knows a little bit. Buck too, but that's different." That was informal, filling in the gaps from what Bucky could remember and what he wanted to remember.

The VA sessions were good whenever he could attend them. Not very regularly, or a lot; he was always more of a listener than a talker. But it felt liberating to know he wasn't alone.

"There are more specialists out there now." Your tone's shifted from the light one earlier this evening, but he's grateful it doesn't hold the same air of patronisation he's heard before. It's kind. "People who've been through similar things."

"Yeah," he says, chewing on his lip. "I know, but-"

He took the support group job on after Sam, hoping it'd help. Every session, the dull guilt of hypocrisy and the inevitability of someone calling him out on what he was-- a fraud. Trying to help others make sense of a world he couldn't, help them continue when he still hadn't figured out how to move on. A lie.

“They won't- they don’t understand. All they wanna do is take notes and try and figure out what's wrong. What if I don't want to know what's wrong?”

It's like a snap when he suddenly gets what it is, back in the doctor's couch with her opposite him. It's suffocating. He's suffocating.

He blinks hard, turning his head up to the sky.

Stars. There's a constellation hidden up there, but he doesn't know the name.

He could make a new constellation. For the way he can hear you breathing beside him and the spitfire warmth of the burnt-out logs. A constellation, and he'd name it after something you love. Rain on pavement, or videos of penguins falling over. For you and him, and the silence in the between and the words he can't distinguish the meaning for yet.

“Would it help if it wasn't, you know, that methodical?” you pipe up again. "Like talking to me, or to someone else who isn't taking notes."

He looks at you wearily. "Ain't that unethical?"

"What, talking to a friend?" You give him a smile. "No, I think we're within the laws on that one."

Steve's eyebrows upturn, and he waits for you to say something more.

"Not like therapy. Just-- anything. I won’t say anything. But you need to talk it out because I'm worried you're going to implode if you don't."

"I don't know what to say." Where to begin. How to begin. Who is he talking for? How does he do it right?

You look at him with no expectations, but a strong concern. Steve stays where he is, one hand holding a branch, one balanced on his knee.

"What do you want me to talk about?"

"Whatever you want," you promise. "I'd like to hear you talk about what you want to. Even if it's about the forties, or I don't know; the MET Gala or something."

"They invited me this year."

"Of course they did."

"Don't think I'm going."

"Had a hunch."

But something you said rings out to him, forcing him to reconsider.

Steve hesitates. "You want me to talk about the 40s?"

"If you want to," you reply. "Jus' don't want you to feel like you don't have anyone to talk to. Because I'm here, I wanna listen."

Steve chews on the inside of his bottom lip.

And surprisingly, it makes sense that it's all he wants to talk about.

Going to the past is comfortable. It's calm.

"Don't know if I can get it out," he says. "I'm tired."

"Of?"

Everything, really.

"It's been a long day."

"Well, let's get some rest then," you break the silence, offer him a kind smile.

You reach down to repack the uneaten food without another argument. The ball was in his court again, and he knows that eventually he'd have to rally it back. It wasn't fair; for you to keep trying and for him to offer nothing back.

So he says, "Ask me something. Anything."

You look up at him, and his lips slight upwards in encouragement. You let the bag drop back down.

"Okay," you pause, and decide on trying to keep it light for a start. "Tell me something good."

Something good.

Like what? His favourite childhood memory or the song he finally found whose two lines he had been singing to himself over and over in the past month? Something big, with bubbling laughter and strained voices, or small with subdued contentment and blush stained cheeks?

Almost like you can sense his trepidation, you add, "I can go first."

He agrees.

"I," you begin, almost like an announcement, "saw three cats yesterday."

His eyebrows furrow. "Where?"

"Near the museum."

"I didn't see them."

"That's 'cause you were in the gift shop."

"Oh."

"You know what?" You reach over to dig through the bag. "I actually got a picture. I thought you'd might wanna see."

A thorough look at three felines lazing around in the sun is enough to convince him that the small joys of the world have not, in fact, evaded him.

"Okay, your turn," you say after tucking your phone back.

He gives a small 'hmm' in response, head turned down as he thought.

"Tell me something good, Steve Rogers."

He shouldn't be finding it as hard as he does.

"I've always wanted a dog," he settles on. "When I was a kid, all I wanted was a dog."

"You didn't have any pets growing up?"

"Not really, just a lotta strays I used to find along the way." More like Steve sneaking out several hours in a day with his food wrapped in an old handkerchief to feed some new alley cat he noticed while getting beaten up. "Closest we got to keepin' one was this Labrador. Guess his owners couldn't handle an older one so they just drove over to our town and abandoned him."

"Fucking dickheads."

"Yeah." The corner of Steve's lips lift. "We found him near our house. Called him Champ."

"What was he like?" Your chin rests on your palm as you listen intently.

"Lived up to his name." Steve shrugs. "Ma made him a vest out of an old shirt. I wrote our names on the back."

The smile on your face is infectious. "How long did he stay with you?"

"Not long. Couldn't really afford to keep one, so we searched for anyone in the neighbourhood who could take care of him. He left in a couple of weeks."

He neglects to mention how he never saw him again. Broke his whole heart, it did.

You told him to tell you something good.

So he follows it up with, "Buck tried throwing him a stick to fetch and he just sat there. Never tried again."

"What a king."

Steve exhales out a laugh. "My mom got real mad when we both showed up covered in dirt every day."

"How do you manage to convert everyone you meet into a vagabond?" you tease and Steve just shrugs, mouth stretching down in cluelessness. ""Did he grow on your mom?"

"Oh, she loved him. Wouldn't ever admit it, but I knew she was upset when he left. I told myself I'd never get one after that 'cause I'd never seen her that sad before."

As if Sarah didn't know exactly what her son was up to when he stowed half his breakfast into his pocket and left in a hurry. As if she didn't make sure there was an extra portion that she knew he wouldn't be able to finish, even if it meant giving up half of hers.

"Well, I think she would have wanted you to have a dog if you could," you say. "Maybe you could name him Champ."

Steve's mind ruminates over it for a few seconds. "Yeah, maybe."

Because the truth is, she would. Of course she would. Even if he had asked back then, even if things were a little difficult, she'd have found a way to do it for him.

"There's this picture of her I used to carry around with me everywhere."

Your head motions towards him in question. "Your mom?"

"Yeah." It sat on his mantlepiece until now, where it was back in his wallet.

Her in a white sundress, smiling brightly with her eyes squinted to avoid the glare of the sun. It was before he was born, the laugh line hadn't fully formed yet and her face didn't hold the same suffering it did in the years to come. His favourite picture of her.

"I had it in my wallet the night Ultron happened, and in the middle of that mess, it tore." He still remembers staring at it in the kitchen, knees bent over broken glass. The growing hole of despair in his stomach reassures him that maybe if he looked at it long enough it'd go back to normal. Maybe if he sits there enough he'll realise it never happened in the first place and the nausea rising to his throat was just the adrenaline wearing off.

But the call comes and the group has to reconvene and the photo, torn and jagged, finds its way back into his wallet for another day.

"Do you still have it?" you ask quietly.

"I do, yeah." He nods. "Uh... Tony got it fixed. Called it a birthday present and made me swear to never mention it again."

In exchange for not telling him how he knew about the picture in the first place, managed to sneak into his wallet and restore it without Steve ever knowing it left at all.

Your eyebrows slightly furrow. "I didn't realise y'all were that close."

"We weren't." Not really, not as much as the publicity team pushed it anyway. "But we had our moments."

In another world, they could have been friends. Respect certainly. Admiration, even, to a certain degree.

"He's my friend."

"So was I."

Steve trusted him. Would agree without a doubt that he was one of the greatest minds of the century, if not ever.

But what follows him on nights he can't sleep and days he spends thinking of things that could have been differently, is that Tony thought of him as a friend. And Steve, he thought... co-workers, acquaintances even, but friends--

He snaps his attention to you. "You got anything good to tell me?"

"I finally got around to deep cleaning my house," you say and Steve lets out a low whistle. "Yeah, I know right? Threw out all the garbage, got some new succulents."

"Who's watering them while you're gone?"

You pause. "The cute neighbour down the hall."

Steve's mouth lifts. "Cute neighbour, huh?"

"You know the one. You've heard him play the banjo when you stayed over."

"The banjo guy's watering your succulents?"

"Now when you put it like that." Your eyes narrow, eyebrows wiggling.

He doesn't notice it at first-- but there is a lightness that's replaced some of the fog in his mind. It feels almost foreign, sacrilege to admit that he does feel... better. Not good. But better than he had been earlier.

"You and banjo guy, me and the cabin owner." Steve turns to the flame that was beginning to die out. "Who woulda thought?"

"Hottest double dates in town." You poke at his leg with your stick. "They're really more cacti than succulents, so he isn't going to be over too often."

"That's a damn shame." Steve cracks a smile.

"I know." You sigh loudly in mock despair. "He plays at the community centre on Saturdays, guy's got a whole cult following on TikTok. The kids love him."

Steve didn't really try to keep up with the trends but he wasn't unaware of them. His Twitter page was mostly active, often cited as one of the most influential political accounts out there. He could tell when certain trends set in by the way his mentions would blow up, or the way his following would increase drastically. Most times it was better not to check.

"You know," he muses, "there's a whole generation of kids that hate me 'cause of the high school fitness videos."

You turn to him incredulously. "The what?"

Steve shuts his mouth.

Additional scene #2

The office is muted. Beige, white, cream. It's professional but not cold. It's calculated.

There's a table behind the swivel chair Dr Nasser sits on, but he hasn't seen her using it to date.

He's practically memorised the whole layout.

"How was your week?" she asks, clipboard balanced neatly on her leg.

Her hair was thin and pushed back behind her ears, and glasses hung from a chain around her neck. She had to be a few years younger than him, thirties he thinks, and she's got a warm look in her eye.

Steve shrugs. "Same old. How was yours?"

"It was good," she replies like always before looking back down at her sheet. "What do you mean by same old?"

“Woke up, met with people, go back home." Rinse, wash, repeat.

“So the schedule hasn't changed at all in this last month.” She finally writes something. It's rare, he never really gives her a reason to note anything down. “How are we looking on the 'time for yourself' front?"

“Lunch breaks, the occasional weekend," Steve says, picking apart the fake fern in the corner of the room with his sight. "Sometimes I pretend I’m sick.”

She cracks a smile at that. His lips quirk upwards, fingers intertwining and releasing themselves.

"Any updates on the yoga, meditation... anything of that sort?"

“Can't say there is." There are seven leaves. Last time there were eight.

“Have you met any of your friends?”

“Whenever I can.” Steve moves on to the pot in the other end of the room,

The doctor doesn’t show any sign of agreement or disagreement with his method. Only clicks her pen before looking back up at him.

"Are you comfortable Steve?"

He adjusts in his seat slightly. "I am, yes."

"I mean, during our sessions," she corrects gently. "Are you comfortable during our sessions?"

There are nine leaves in that one. Funny, there were eight last week.

"I am," he replies, one arm crossed over his chest while the other rest on the armchair.

"I'm asking because you've been coming here for weeks now, Steve, and all we’ve discussed so far is the weather."

"Cloudy today, isn’t it?” He gives her a wry smile.

She gives him a unaffected one in return.

It's not her fault. She was just doing her job, and unfortunately, got stuck with the world's most emotionally constipated man.

“Why are you here, Captain?” Dr Nasser asks finally.

“You know why, doctor.” Steve's cheek leans on his fingers, leaving behind indents.

“It’s a part of your deal, I know,” she says, “but why are you here?”

Steve’s smile is tight. “What would you want to hear?”

She writes down something on her notepad. Steve's nose twitches.

“Your actual reason why you keep coming back,” she says when she looks back up again.

Steve's brows pull together lightly at her implication, though he has no idea what it actually is.

“Why do you think I keep coming here?” he asks again.

Her head tilts. “I could name plenty of reasons why, but that’s not the point. It has to come from you.”

Steve observes her the same way she does him. A little guilt springs up in him-- she's been trying and he hasn't at all.

He clears his throat, glancing down for a second before back up. “I was told it’s the only way they’d let me come in.”

“To help with the aftermath, you said?” she clarifies, looking at the three total lines she probably had on him.

"Yes,” he replies. “Relocation, search and rescue for people missing after the battle.”

“Right, the Battle of Earth.” Dr. Nasser writes something down. He follows the movement of her pen. “We haven't talked in too much detail about that.”

He doesn’t know what’s there to talk about. Everyone knew what had happened, the details were there in a public forum. Articles upon articles, documentaries upon documentaries had been made in the few months since it had gotten over, and they were still pouring in.

So Steve asks, “What would you like to know?”

“Your side of it,” she responds. "I could read about the battle anywhere. What I’m interested in is your side, how you’re dealing with it.”

Steve wants to smile bitterly at the fact that she only knows what they wanted everyone to know, but he couldn’t tell her that either.

"I deal with it just fine, I think," he says distantly.

"What do you mean by just fine?"

If this was what one on one therapy was like, it's a wonder why he doesn't care for it much.

"Well--" he blinks-- "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Are you happy?"

"About?"

"The win," she answers. "Sad? Angry? How do you feel about the team's success?"

A win? The words rest so disgustingly on his shoulders, the weight of a double-edged sword like everything else in his life.

He got the serum only to watch the closest person he had to a mentor die in his arms. He went down with the plane only to be pulled out in a year he didn’t belong in. He fought a civil war to lose his team, the War for the Stones only to lose half the fucking planet, the Battle of Earth only to lose friends who had become family. He fought and fought and fought and over the years, he started losing himself like sand slipping through his fingers.

Steve didn’t know what win was without the burden of loss. He didn’t know happiness without tragedy, and like mortality and death, they found themselves inseparable.

“We tried our best,” he says. “I don’t think it’s up to me to judge whether we succeeded or not.”

She looks at him with a strange sort of expression, like she's deciding what to make of what he said. Trying to decipher him, like he's some puzzle to be solved.

“If I’m being honest, Steve,” she begins, “from what you've told me, it doesn’t look like you’ve given yourself time to process what happened.”

He did process what had happened and look where it got him. Dreaming of people long gone and stolen cake in army convoys.

“I’m not sure what’s left to think about, doctor.” His voice is level, methodical.

A quick glance at the wall.

A note of the time.

The doctor’s head tilted slightly, staring intently at him. “Do you feel restless, Steve?”

All the fucking time, like an itch at the back of his throat he can’t get rid of.

“Sometimes.”

“And what do you do when you do feel that way?”

“Walk around. Park’s open pretty early. There’s a gym a few blocks away.”

“Physical activity- does it help?”

“It does the trick.”

“Are you restless now?”

His fingers stop tapping against his thigh, tongue in cheek and wry when he asks, “Who, me?”

Her smile returns with the realisation that it may not have been the smartest question, head turned down.

"Why do you think you're restless?"

A glance at the wall.

A note of the time.

"Been that way since I was a kid."

She shifts in her seat, picking up her pen again. Steve's realises it's the first time he's let anything about his past slip.

"Why were you restless as a child?"

His back is still stiff against the futon, and there's thirty minutes to go.

"Had places to go, things I wanted to do," he replies unclearly.

"What's changed since then?"

Well, nothing, really. There were still places to go and things to do and to a certain degree he did want to do them. The rest was...

"My mom's not there to lock the door so I don't walk out at three in the morning."

The corner of her lip tugs up. "How old were you?"

"Seven? Maybe eight." Steve squints.

Either way, he started climbing out the window after that, so it wasn't like he was trapped.

"Where did seven year old you go at three in the morning?"

"Hung out with this neighbour kid of mine on the roof sometimes." Steve shrugs. "If it was during the day I'd go down to the store and spend a couple of hours."

"You'd spend hours at the... grocery store?" she asks, trying to clarify.

"There was a guy there I liked. He always thought I was annoying but he let me stick around." Steve smiles briefly, letting his other arm cross over his chest.

Other times-- most times-- it was with Bucky, who'd also climbed out on his fire escape to silence Steve's incessant rock throwing at his window. They didn't really have any place to go, so they did as any fifteen year old would do; jumped over the gate and into the park to skip some stones across the pond.

Steve's mind sharply wipes away the memory and his focus snaps back to the lady before him, one leg crossed over the other, arms resting on them.

She's already looking at him. He genuinely hopes he wasn't staring at her when he zoned out.

"You know, Steve," she pipes up when he doesn't say anything, "I don't know a whole lot about you even though this is our fifth session."

He exhales deeply through his nose, but his gaze is unwavering.

"But--" she looks down at the paper-- "this is the first time your answers don't seem so calculated."

Steve doesn't have any comment. He watches her twist to put aside the notepad on the table behind her.

"What does talking about the past make you feel?"

"At home."

Her eyebrows quirk up in the slightest, like she didn't expect an answer from him so soon.

"Feels familiar," he says further.

"Easy?" she offers.

He nods.

A glance at the wall.

A note of the time.

"Do you feel more connected to the past than you do with the present?"

Steve wants to get up and leave. There's still seventeen minutes to go.

"I don't know," he replies stiffly.

And just like that it's over.

There is tension in the air, mainly from his side because he knows to her, this had to be a breakthrough.

She reaches behind her to pick up the note pad again, clicking the pen against her thigh as she writes something down. Steve can feel a twinge of annoyance in him.

She finishes scribbling something. He can see she's halfway down the paper already.

"How do you feel about a little homework, Steve?"

Steve's eyes flick down to her notes and back up at her. “Haven’t really done any in the last century or so.”

"It's a small task," she explains, "just to let you embrace that part of you fully before we go forward."

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Let's do this, shall we? Why don't you create a list of things that remind you of the past?"

"What kind of list?" His voice is a lot rougher than it had been a moment ago.

"Could be anything. List of people, places, things. If you wanna bring it in here next session too, that'd be great." She flashes him a kind smile. "What do you think?"

He thinks he's dug himself a grave here. He was having trouble enough as it was. He could already feel his mind slip past his tight grip and into a spiral.

"I'll try, I guess," he replies almost robotically.

It seems to satisfy her, though. He can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s only the littlest bit exhilarated at the crack in his shell.

“That was a lot, Steve,” she notes, leaning back slightly. “How are you feeling?”

A glance at the wall.

A note of the time.

"I feel fine," he says.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #mcu fic #steve fic #steve rogers fic #steve fluff #steve rogers fluff #steve angst #steve rogers angst #bridges break fic #captain america x reader #captain america fluff #captain america angst

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angelicizedeve · 2 years

Text

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

featuring: itto x gn!reader

synopsis: you start working at a new flower shop and love it more than you should

✎ eve’s notes: so...i've never really done a fanfic that's in this style, as in, it's like a story. i usually do bullet points and drabbles but not this time! so hopefully it's decent lmao. btw i probably have some grammatical errors-

you peered at yourself in the slightly dirty glass of the flower shop one last time, making sure that you looked good. the flower shop was quite popular, and was owned by a friendly young man. he was really kind during the interview when you applied, so you weren't too nervous. you smoothed your skirt down, and with a deep breath, you pushed open the door to the shop.

you’d been there many times, but still, it never failed to amaze you in how magical it looked. stained-glass windows lined the walls, casting rainbows on the many plants on shelves everywhere. butterfly cutouts hung from the ceiling, along with flowering vines. it was like a fairy oasis. “hey, you must be [name]!” you heard a cheerful and loud voice exclaim. your eyes were met with a tall, muscular man with long, fluffy grey-white hair tied back. he wore a colourful apron with a bunch of pins and a name tag that read, “itto!” with a smiley face. you smiled.

“yup! that’s me.”

“great! so, come with me and i’ll get you set up.”

you followed your superior, and he handed you an identical apron and explained what you had to do. your main job was cashier, but you’d also have to water some of the plants and put some sprouts into planters. easy enough!

throughout the day, itto and you worked amazingly well together. you two had fun conversations as you did your work, and itto introduced you to each customer. he knew all of them on a first name basis and what their favourite flowers were. you were amazed at how it seemed as if he was close friends with every single one of them. it was something you’d try to work on throughout your time working at the shop.

itto glanced up from a pile of paperwork he was filling out, seeing you walking out of the store. you’d completed your first shift there, and probably had had the most fun possible on a job.

“oh, [name]! wait up!”

itto walked around the counter and handed you a white rose. “here,” he said with a big smile.

“aw, thanks!” you said, admiring the flower.

“haha, no problem. and, uh, thanks for...actually showing up today.” itto rubbed the back of his neck. “you have no idea how many people i hire that don’t even bother to come to their shifts. it’s hard, managing a whole store on your own, ya know?”

you gave a soft, sympathetic smile. “yeah, must be hard. but i’m always here if you need me to help you with stuff.” and with that, you headed home.

after your amazing first shift, you eagerly accepted every other one that itto asked you to work. unlike it is for most people, work was the highlight of your day. you were surrounded by sweet customers, fragrant flowers, and the best co-worker. speaking of your coworker, itto never failed to give you a flower at the end of your shift. sometimes if you had an extra busy week, he’d throw in some snacks. you thought it was the sweetest thing ever, and always made sure to thank him <3.

eventually, your birthday rolled around. you expected a simple “happy birthday”, but itto surprised you by inviting you to dinner with him! how sweet, right? it was just such a kind gesture.

a very..kind..gesture.

it-

no it couldn’t be..

was itto asking you out on a date?

the thought put butterflies in your stomach and made your face grow warm. you knew that you probably were just going crazy, but still. you put on a fancy outfit, did your hair nice, and then hurried over to the restaurant. you were completely surprised to find itto standing outside, well dressed and a beautiful flower bouquet in hand.

“oh! [name]! i was thinking you wouldn’t show up!” he said with a nervous laugh. “these are for you.” itto handed you a gorgeous bunch of white roses, just like the one he gave you on your first day.

“oh! thank you so much!”

itto smiled, and opened the door to the restaurant for you. “shall we?”

the dinner went better than you imagined! you had a blast talking and laughing with your coworker. when you arrived home, which was quite late at night, you took the flowers out of the wrapping to put into a vase of water.

hm, that’s strange. there’s a note…

“so i did some research, and apparently roses represent love, so i got a bouquet of them since that’s what i feel about you.

-itto <;3”

you blinked at the words messily written on the small piece of paper, reading them over and over again. it was a dream come true.

#writing.by.eve.ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ੈ♡‧₊˚#arataki itto #arataki itto x reader #arataki itto x female reader #arataki itto x male reader #arataki itto x gender neutral reader #itto x female reader #itto x male reader #itto x gn reader #itto fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x gn reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x male reader #modern au #fluff

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thearvariblues · 2 years

Text

Day 6: “Why are you naked?” + fun

You can find the whole fic using this tag, or you can check it out on AO3. :)

***

“So… Have you forgiven me, then?”

Chay looks down at Kim, his tousled hair, his red, swollen lips, his shining eyes filled with hope.

“P’Kim, I spent the past hour fucking you. I think the answer is pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, but…” Kim lifts his head from Chay’s shoulder to first kiss him, then gently bite his lower lip. “I wanna hear it. Chay…”

“Yes. I have forgiven you, P’Kim. Though I haven’t forgiven you for nearly getting yourself killed, even though I specifically told you not to!”

“Oh, come on, it was just a little hit over the head. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“You’re concussed.”

“Mildly concussed. And you didn’t mind it so much when you made me hit my head against the headboard.”

“I apologized for that!”

Kim chuckles, leans his head on Porchay’s chest again and wraps an arm and a leg around the young man.

“I’m joking, Chay. Just joking,” he murmurs. “I love you.”

Porchay buries his fingers in Kim’s long hair and hums.

“I’m hungry.”

“Mean,” Kim murmurs.

“You deserve it.”

“I do.”

Kim smiles when he feels a gentle kiss on the top of his head.

“I love you too, P’Kim,” Porchay says. “You should sleep now. You need your rest.”

Kim clutches the blanket a bit tighter, pulling it higher up on his chest. His eyes glance from an angry Porsche to the bathroom door and back again.

“And what am I supposed to do about the fact that your brother’s missing?” he asks, trying to ignore the fact that Vegas, who’s standing next to Porsche, seems to follow Kim’s gaze.

“You’re supposed to find him, of course!”

“I’ve been injured,” Kim protests, hoping against all hope Porsche will just accept it and go away.

“Oh, come on. Aren’t you madly in love with him or something?” Porsche groans. “No one’s seen him since yesterday afternoon. Yesterday!”

“We’ve searched the whole house,” Kinn adds. “Chay’s phone is in his room. We’re worried he might have been taken by the Italians, as a revenge…”

“Though no one’s explained to me yet just how would the Italians get into the main family’s house in the first place,” Vegas comments, rolling his eyes.

“Well, I suppose you’re gonna have to ask them,” Porsche snaps. “Or do you have a better idea where Chay could be?!”

Vegas looks at the bathroom door, then at Kim. He cocks his eyebrow.

“Nope,” Vegas smirks. “Absolutely no idea.”

Kim lets out a breath he never realized he was holding.

“Look,” he says. “I’d love to help, really–”

“Well, get up and help us, then!” Porsche snaps, then grabs the edge of Kim’s blanket and yanks.

Kim didn’t expect it, even though he probably should have. To his horror, the blanket slips from his grasp, revealing the fact that he–

“Why are you naked?” Porsche frowns, narrowing his eyes.

“I was feeling hot,” Kim lies. He can see Vegas turn his back to the bed. Judging by the way his shoulders shake, it’s not out of some sort of prudery (Vegas probably doesn’t even know the word), but mostly because he’s struggling not to start laughing out loud.

Then he sees Kinn look first at Vegas, then at Kim, and then the bathroom door. Kinn’s eyes go wide.

“There’s AC in this room,” Porsche replies, blinking stupidly.

“Is there? Oh,” Kim replies. “I’m concussed. My brain’s not working properly.”

“Clearly,” Kinn snaps, snatches the blanket from Porsche’s hand and throws is back to Kim. “I’m sorry, love, but my poor little brother is clearly not in the right state of mind. Right, Kim?”

“But Kinn, we need him!”

“I won’t risk my brother’s health! What if he gets brain damage, eh?”

“Further brain damage?” Vegas chuckles, clearly unable to help himself.

“There must be places we haven’t checked, Porsche. How about the spa? I don’t think we’ve been to the spa, right?”

“I have,” Vegas says. “The sauna was very nice.”

“Shut up, Vegas,” Kinn growls, then raises his voice. “We will go check the spa, and I’m sure Chay will turn up somewhere!”

“Why are you yelling?”

“No reason. Come on, love. Let’s go, Vegas.”

“I think I should stay for a bit, actually,” Vegas replies. “Look for clues.”

“Absolutely not!” Kinn says hurriedly, already pushing Vegas out of the room. “Let’s go to the spa. You can try the sauna again.”

“So you can lock me up in there? Thanks, I’ll pass.”

“Don’t make me regret saying I’m glad you made it out alive yesterday, you dickhead,” Kinn growls. “Out! Both of you!”

The door shuts behind the three of them and Kim whines, pulling the blanket over his head.

“Wow. That was close, P’Kim,” a voice says. “I should probably go and, uhm, turn up somewhere, right?”

“Probably, yeah,” Kim nods, even though Porchay can’t really see it.

He pulls the blanket back down, only to see the door open yet again. Kinn’s yelled Porsche, no! and Vegas’ laughter is the only warning Kim gets before Porsche walks back in.

“I’m sorry, Kim, but we really need your–” He stops dead in his tracks as his gaze falls at the person standing by Kim’s bed.

“Uhm,” Porchay says, smiling brightly. “Hey, hia. I heard you were looking for me?”

“Chay?” Porsche blinks. “Why… why are you naked?”

Kim assesses the distance between himself and Porsche, Porsche and the door, and himself and the door. He considers Porsche’s shock, the fact that his focus is currently on Chay, that Kim himself is naked and kind of tangled up in the blanket…

It’s extremely risky. The possibility of failure is enormous.

Then a chuckling Vegas quickly steps into the room, stands between Porsche and the door and winks.

Kim stops thinking. He bolts.

“So anyway. Picture Khun Kim, in his birthday suit, running through the hospital’s corridor, Porsche behind him, screaming bloody murder,” Big giggles, taking a sip from his cup of coffee. “Then Chay emerges from the room, equally naked–”

“Wait. Porsche was naked, too?” Pol frowns.

“Of course not. Just Chay and Khun Kim.”

“It’s Khun Chay for you, Biggie.”

“Yes, daddy,” Big smirks, rolling his eyes at Chan, which earns him a halfhearted clip round the ear. “So, Khun Chay is following them, yelling at Porsche not to kill Khun Kim, Porsche–”

“Khun Porsche.”

“Chan, you’re ruining my story! Besides, neither of them wants to be addressed as Khun. You should respect that, baby.”

“So, is it baby or daddy?” Arm asks.

“It’s daddy in the bedroom, baby everywhere else,” Big grins. “You see–”

“I see you’re diverging from your story, Big,” Chan says quickly.

“No, wait, this is actually more interesting! Please, go on,” Tankhun replies leaning in closer.

“Uhm, what exactly are you doing here, Khun Nu?” Big dares to ask, because at this point, he can no longer ignore the lavishly dressed figure seated between Arm and Pol.

“I missed all the drama and Vegas refuses to send me the video, of course! I’m sure I’ll be able to get it out of Pete sooner or later, but until I do… But back to that daddy thing.”

“Back to the story, Big,” Chan says in a tone that doesn’t take no for an answer.

“Right. So, Porsche is screaming he’s not gonna kill Khun Kim, just make him feel sorry he’s still alive, Khun Kinn is trying to use his authority as the head of the main family to stop Porsche, but Porsche tells him he knows where he can shove that fucking ring.”

“Oooh,” Tankun grins. “Arm, Pol, memorize everything, you’re gonna enact it for me later.”

“Khun Nu!” Pol whines.

“And then,” Big continues, “the door of one of the rooms open, and Pete steps out, standing right in Porsche’s way, between Porsche and Khun Kim. And he just… stands there, looking at Porsche.”

“So when’s the funeral?” Arm asks.

“Come on, Arm!” Pol replies, rolling his eyes. “Pete has tamed Vegas. Vegas. You think Porsche was a problem for him?”

“Yeah, he totally wasn’t,” Big grins. “The idiot just stopped.”

“Big.”

“Khun Porsche stopped,” Big sighs. “A second later, Chay catches up, then Khun Kinn, and Khun Kim stops, too, and then Chay walks right around Pete and grabs Khun Kim’s hand and tells his brother that I’m sorry, hia, but I love him and I forgive him and if you love me then you will forgive him too, because he’s the most important person in my life! And you can actually see it in Porsche’s eyes that if it were up to him, Khun Kim would already be lying in a pool of his own blood, preferably cut into tiny pieces, but it’s not up to him, and besides, Pete is staring at him with this think twice before you act, bitch look on his face, you know the one.”

“You mean the one with the kindest, warmest smile you’ve ever seen?” Arm nods.

“That one, yeah. So of course that Porsche yields, and then Chay lifts Khun Kim up and spins him around and kisses him, and then Khun Kinn invites them to have dinner together… Yeah, and that’s about it. So they’re upstairs now and if Khun Kim’s lucky, his dinner won’t even be poisoned. And Khun Vegas is probably fucking Pete, because the first thing he did when he stopped recording everything was saying that that was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and then he dragged Pete right back into his room.”

“My poor Pete,” Tankhun sighs. “Injured, and ravaged by a ruthless maniac. I’m sure he’s in heaven. But it also explains why Vegas texted me to go fuck myself when I requested that video. He just has better things to do!”

“Yeah. Like Pete,” Pol chuckles.

“Khun Nu, do you think Porsche will let Khun Kim date Chay?” Arm asks.

“I don’t want to let Kim date the poor baby!” Tankhun proclaims dramatically. “Alas, it seems that Chay insists. And Porsche will do anything for the boy, even if it means forgiving my idiot of a brother. So yes. They will definitely date.”

“Maybe it’ll make Khun Kim stop being such an angry bitch.”

“Aaand I’ve just had enough,” Chan announces and gets to his feet. “Let’s go, Big.”

“Are you gonna punish me?” Big grins.

“No, don’t punish him!” Tankhun yells. “The boy’s right! Kim is an angry bitch!”

“Khun Nu,” Arm whispers. “I think Big wants to be punished.”

“Nonsense. Why would he want to be punished? Why would you want to be punished, Big? Uhm… Big?”

The door slams shut, and Big and Chan are gone.

“Oh. Oh, I see,” Tankhun nods. “Assholes! Horny assholes, just as everyone in this stupid building! Ugh.”

“Khun Nu…” Pol starts.

“And what are you waiting for?!” Tankhun snaps, folding his arms across his chest. “Didn’t I tell you you’re supposed to enact the story Big told us? Chop chop! Arm, you are Chay. Pol, you’re Porsche. And that lamp is my stupid brother.”

“Wait,” Arm murmurs. “Kim, or Kinn?”

“Kim, of course! Kinn is… Oh, what are we gonna do? We don’t have a Kinn! See, I said two bodyguards weren’t enough for me! Three! I need three!”

“We don’t have a Pete, either, Khun Nu,” Pol dares to say.

“Incredible!” Tankhun yells, slams the table with his hand and gets up.

“K-Khun Nu? Where are you going?” Arm blinks.

“Where do you think?!” Tankhun replies. “To get more bodyguards!”

#kpweek2022 #kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #kimchay #kim x chay #kinn x porsche #vegaspete #my fics #kpweekfic

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