#I finished this the day after the Stans' birthday but never had a chance to upload it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crescentsteel · 3 years

Text

Burns

pairing: Suna x f!reader genre: fluff with slight angst (childhood friends to lovers) wc: 3.8k summary: you planned to confess to Suna on Valentines day. Unfortunately for you, he finds the holiday stupid.

[a/n]

Did this in one sitting, brain went zoom zoom

Not really comfortable writing for Inarizaki for some reason. Suna and Miya twins stans, don’t come for me.

Thank you @tokyosdawn, @luvnami, @fayeiparis (my ride or die ily) for the betaread.

ngl. I almost wrote smut after the fluff

Happy Valentines Day! 🖤

This is it. This is the day.

You’re finally going to confess to Suna.

You have been close friends for so long, and for the whole duration of it, you have tried your utter best to feel only as such.

You became friends with the rest of the Inarikazi team because you were always present in every game, with you being the loudest person to cheer for Suna leading everyone to pester him until he introduced you to them. Knowing Suna, he wasn’t fazed by his team’s persistent request and never mentioned to you that the team wanted to meet you.

It had been Atsumu that day who approached you during lunch break saying that Suna asked him to ask you to attend their practice after class.

You’ve been asking him non-stop if he can come watch them practice but he strictly prohibited you from going to the gym at all, so you were thrilled that he finally let you watch.. only to find him unpleasantly surprised that you were there.

Apparently, the whole team thought you were dating. As much as you wish you were, you could only agree with Suna when he said you were just a long-time friend.

But that changes today. Hopefully.

You already know what confessing to him means, and you’re not ready to lose Suna as a friend in case this doesn’t work out. However, with the both of you being third years already, it was now or never. You keep asking him what his plans after graduation are and he’s infuriatingly very consistent with his answer - a shrug and an apathetic ‘dunno.’

While you’re not ready to lose your friendship, you’re probably going to after high school — which is why you spent almost all of your allowance to buy ingredients to make homemade chocolate. It’s not actually that it’s expensive — you wasted so much ingredients making them that you ended up having enough for only three pieces.

But you’re satisfied because they were of three different designs. Three cute fox-shaped chocolates of different colors. They weren’t perfect but you tailored them according to Suna’s taste - just mildly sweet so he can actually enjoy it.

You smile into the February air.

You really aren’t sure about his feelings for you, but you know that you’re special to him.

You’re his only female friend and despite his aloofness, he actually spends time with you outside of school. It was you who he spent New Year’s with. He celebrates your birthday even if you know he’s not really into that kind of stuff. He walks you home when you stay late from club activities.

Being his friend since elementary school, you know he’s not the kind of guy to be nice to someone just for the sake of being nice.

So instead of dreading for your confession, you’re actually excited.

On your way to your first class, the chaotic twins block your path with a mischievous grin from both of them, except Atsumu’s way too obvious and upfront about it.

“So, y/n. Anything for me?” Atsumu asks as he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Why would she give you any, idiot?” Osamu glares at Atsumu before turning to you with a smirk that makes you wary for some reason. “When she’s obviously giving them to Suna,” he adds.

You try to not look affected at his spot-on statement, but shit, you can already feel your heartbeat just a bit faster. Are you that obvious?

“Don’t you have hoards of shit from other girls? Why the hell are you ganging up on me?” you ask instead of answering Osamu’s speculation.

“I want to show them to Suna during practice. His pretty little childhood friend givin’ me homemade chocolates,” Atsumu teases animatedly.

Your eyes widen from what he said. “Wait, how did you know they were homemade?”

The two give each other meaningful looks before Osamu leans down a bit on you. “So there really are chocolates, huh?”

You go rigid when you realize you’ve exposed yourself to these two. Shit, they’re going to tease you non-stop about this. Worse, they might tell Suna before you even get the chance to do it yourself.

“Those are some burns on your hands, y/n. Have you treated those properly?” Atsumu eyes your hand that accidentally touched the hot pan yesterday. You tug the sleeves of your uniform lower to cover the purple-pinkish marks.

“I’m going to be late for class, bye,” you abruptly bid goodbye and hurriedly escape from the two. God knows what else they’ll get from you if you stay longer.

You erase your encounter with the twins from this morning. You can’t buckle down now. You worked hard for this day, both in body and in spirit. You’ve already had more than a fair share of doubts and second thoughts up until last night when you successfully pushed any cynicism away.

You won’t back down, especially when Suna is just a seat away from you now.

“Got any chocolates yet?” You prod at the topic as you put away your used cutleries.

“Yea,” he answers lazily. “It’s so dumb.”

“What is?” you ask with a frown.

“Valentines,” he deadpans. “Atsumu’s gonna get a fucking diabetes from the amount of chocolates he took from me because I was about to throw them away.”

You try to not let it get to you and breathe steadily to strengthen your resolve. You’re special to Suna. Surely, he won’t treat yours like that.

“What’s more idiotic is confessing this day,” he rambles on. “If a person really likes someone, why wait for Valentines to say it?” He asks rhetorically while putting away his own finished lunch.

You feel your stomach lurch, like riding down a rollercoaster at full speed unexpectedly. You try your best to mold your face into an impassive expression to not give anything away.

On the inside though, you’re a mess. Your head feels too loud and the air feels too heavy. You want to close your eyes and disappear.

Then he looks at you. “What about you? Did you give chocolates to anyone?”

You vaguely hear his question. You feel like you’re in a bubble and every sound is muffled -- your classmates chattering, the chairs scraping against the floor, the laughter all around you feels distant.

You planned to give him the chocolates you worked so hard on, but definitely not anymore. He hit two things right (Or wrong? Who knows anymore.) on the marks and right now, you do feel idiotic for trying so hard.

You should’ve known better. Of course, he’d find it stupid! He’s never the person to be all excited with events like this. What were you even thinking, spending all that money and effort when he obviously thinks the whole thing is a farce?

Did you really think this was going to go well? That he’d accept your chocolates and everything would be fine and you would go on as friends? In hindsight, there is never going to be a way out of this where you win. It is a stupid idea, and you’re stupid for even thinking about it.

‘Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb,’ you chant in your head.

“Y/n?”

You flinch and find him staring at you, waiting for your answer. His golden eyes are studying your face carefully. You think you see a little bit of concern there but you brush it off.

“Oh no,” you laugh hesitantly. “No way I’d waste my time on some boy on the very rare chance that he actually likes me back, pfft.” Your laugh turns ironic and bitter. “Like you said, it’s just a dumb holiday,” you respond with a forced smile.

“Anyways, I have to go back now. Later, Rin.” You quickly stand up and head to a comfort room because you feel like shit and you need to cry it out before your classes start again, else you’d be tearing up during lecture.

“Wait.” He grips your hand firmly, adding salt to the injury as you wince when he presses the burn you got from yesterday.

“Ow!”

He’s startled by your sudden reaction, but doesn’t say anything.

He loosens his hold and moves his grip to your wrist as he pushes up the sleeve of your uniform, revealing the burn on your hand along with small others on your arm.

“What happened to you?” he asks with muted concern while his eyes are trained on your arm, fingers gently skimming over the burns.

You aggressively retrieve your arm and pull your sleeve back down while you come up with a lie, “Oka-san needed help in the kitchen yesterday.”

He furrows his eyebrows with suspicion. “Why? Everyone knows you’re useless in the kitchen.”

Yeah, but you wanted to do something for him, and the burns would have been worth it if he at least accepted the chocolates you worked so hard on.

“Honestly, I don’t even know.” You try to laugh it off, but you’re losing it already, so you just give him a quick wave with whatever smile you can muster and saunter away from him.

After a pathetic sobbing session in one of the cubicles, you make your way back to your classroom looking as normal as you possibly can.

Thank goodness it’s Valentines. You’re not the only girl with eyes puffy from rejection.

“Hey.” You feel a hand on your shoulder and solely from his voice, you can tell it’s Osamu. “You okay?”

Maybe it would’ve been better if you had fallen for Osamu instead. Despite being always teased by him and Atsumu, he’s actually a nice likeable guy. Unlike Suna.

God, why did it have to be Suna Rintarou?

“Come with me,” you say without looking at Osamu and drag him with you back to your classroom.

“Uhh, okay.” He sounds unsure but he goes with you anyway.

You ask him to wait for you just by the doorway of your classroom and grab the stupid box of chocolates you made from your bag.

You practically shove it to him when you get back to where he is. “Happy Valentines, ‘Samu,” you greet with a dead expression.

Osamu gapes at you then at the box in hand, an expression of disbelief spreading across his face.

“Weren’t you asking for chocolates this morning?”

“That was ‘Tsumu. Also,” he looks closely at the box. “It says ‘Rin.’

You immediately rip out the wrapper where you wrote Suna’s nickname and tuck the crumpled paper in your pocket.

“There. It doesn’t anymore,” you announce passively.

Osamu scratches his head with discomfort. “I can’t accept this, y/n. I can give it to Suna if you want,” he offers kindly.

“Miya Osamu. Either you accept it or I’m throwing it away right now.” Your voice is dead serious and so are you. If Osamu won’t accept it, it’s going to the trash where Suna would’ve tossed it in as well.

“Okay, okay!” He surrenders with panic and opens the box slowly.

“Holy sh-,” he clears his throat. “I mean, wow. These are so cute, the cutest I’ve received today,” he comments appreciatively before returning his gaze at you. “You sure about this, y/n?”

You nod, more convinced now that you saw his reactions towards it. “Yeah. I figured I’d want to give them to someone who’s going to actually like them.”

The soft ring of the bell alerts you that your next class is about to start.

“Thanks Osamu,” you utter with a grateful smile before sauntering back to your classroom.

“Oy ‘Samu, why are these chocolates so cute? How the hell can I eat these?” Tsumu whines.

“You shithead, those are mine!” Osamu rushes to where his twin and grabs the box protectively.

Suna just watches the two and silently waits for another fight to erupt.

“You’d just taste them and give them to me anyways. What’s the deal?” Atsumu asks with a frown.

“If you must know, ‘Tsumu. Y/n gave this to me,” Osamu announces with a condescending grin as Astumu gawks at him in disbelief. “No fucking way, you stinking liar,” Atsumu retorts.

Suna looks at the tiny box Osamu is holding and agrees with Atsumu. There is no way you’d give those to Osamu. You said so yourself this morning.

‘No way I’d waste my time on some boy on the very rare chance that he actually likes me back.’

Did you lie to him and made some for Osamu? Do you like Osamu?

Suna’s mind wanders back to the burns on your hand and arms and how your mom ‘supposedly’ asked you to help out in the kitchen. He knows something is off. You’re never asked to help out with anything that involves cooking, so why did you lie about it?

So what is going on? There’s just no way in hell you like Osamu. Not once have you mentioned liking his teammate enough for you to venture into the ‘horrors of the kitchen’ (as you put it). And more importantly, why Osamu?

It is true that Suna doesn’t give a shit whether or not he gets a mountain load of chocolates on this superficial holiday. He’s not eating them.

However, he’d make an exception only if they come from you. He wouldn’t mind if they’re just store-bought ones as long as they’re from you.

So why the fuck would you go to the troubles of making them for Osamu and not him? You can’t possibly like Osamu. He won’t allow it.

He marches to where the twins are and turns to Osamu. “Did y/n really give you that?”

Both the twins face him and while Osamu looks pensive, Atsumu wears a shit-eating grin. “Aww, Suna. Are you jealous that your beloved y/n gave us chocolates?”

“‘Tsumu, shut up for the love of God. And she didn’t give it to us. She gave it to me.” Osamu pulls the box closer to him possessively which ticks Suna off even more.

“Did she say why?” Suna tries to sound calm despite the stupid jealousy bubbling up the pit of his stomach.

“Obviously because-” Atsumu starts, but Osamu grabs his twin’s face with one hand to halt his babbling as he sighs to face Suna.

“Actually, the box had your name in it,” Osamu admits. “She just ripped it out and said she’d rather give it to someone who’ll appreciate it.”

“-mmmmff Samu!” Atsumu successfully removes Osamu’s hand. “You shouldn’t have told him that! Do you realize that y/n didn’t want him to know?”

“Duh! Of course, I know. But I really can’t accept chocolates that’re supposed to be for another guy,” Osamu sighs before handing Suna the box.

He opens it and sees the fuss Tsumu was making about it. They really are cute and are obviously made with care and precision. If someone else had told him that you made these, he wouldn’t have believed them.

But there’s something about the chocolates that he can’t ignore.

“Why are there bites on the two pieces?” He asks as he lifts his gaze up from the chocolates.

Atsumu puts his hands behind his head and starts whistling as he avoids Suna’s gaze while Osamu smiles apologetically.

“Sorry, I wanted to see if they taste as good as they look,” Osamu confesses. As for Atsumu, Suna can already tell that the piss-haired setter just couldn’t help himself despite receiving so many already.

“They’re a bit bland, Suna. Tell y/n she needs to improve her baking skills,” Atsumu comments shamelessly which makes Suna scowl at Atsumu’s ungrateful ass. The fact that you made something look edible is already something commendable.

“They’re okay. Just needs a bit more sweetness,” Osamu backs his twin up.

He brings the remaining chocolate that’s still untouched to his mouth.

“What are you two talking about? It tastes perfectly fine,” he states truthfully. It’s just the right amount of sweetness that he’s able to finish it despite not really being a fan of chocolates.

Osamu laughs softly before speaking. “She really did make them for you, Suna.”

That night, you toss and turn in your bed while trying to keep your focus on the movie you played. As entertaining as it is, you can’t fully enjoy it with constantly wanting to smash your head against the wall of your room.

For a good while, you really thought everything would go smoothly and that by the end of today, you and Suna would be more than just friends.

Maybe today is a sign that you shouldn’t push it anymore. Suna said so himself: if someone likes a person, they don’t need the holiday to confess.

So why hasn’t he?

The answer is clear as day and you wish you were blind to see it, but you aren’t.

There had been too many chances for you two to move your relationship forward, but not once had he shown a sign that he wanted to.

He doesn’t like you like that. It’s just you and your delusional head. He doesn’t love you the way you love him. Even with the cute, romantic scene playing before you, you start tearing up.

You grab one of your pillows and bury your face in it, effectively silencing the sob and stopping the tears that are coming as you remember your folly attempt to confess today.

You should’ve been satisfied with the comfort of your friendship. If you hadn’t been so greedy, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this.

You hear a text alert from your phone. You open it and see a text from the source of your misery.

‘Come out’

You don’t want to. Tomorrow you can be back to normal around him, but not tonight.

You hurriedly respond with a lie.

‘Went out zzz’

You throw your phone somewhere on your bed and lie down with your pillow still squeezed between your arms while you space out at nothing.

Your thirst brings you back to your senses so you stand up and get to the kitchen. When you come back to your room, you almost scream when you see Suna sitting slouching on your bed.

“What the heck, Rin?! How did you get here?”

“Your mother let me in. Why are you even asking obvious questions?”

You massage your temples as you plan to tell your mom later not to just let anyone in your room even though it’s someone she knows. You might be childhood friends but you’re no longer kids. He can’t just pop in and out of your room anymore like he used to.

“Why are you even here? I said I was out.”

“Your lights are open, dumbass,” he answers, to which you respond with a sigh.

“Didn’t it occur to you that I don’t want to see you?”

He stands up from your bed and although his expression doesn’t change, you feel alarmed from how he’s towering over you without saying anything.

“W-what?” Your stutter betrays your attempt to sound fine.

“Why the fuck would you give Osamu chocolates that are supposed to be mine?”

You gawk at him. He isn’t supposed to know that. That bastard, Osamu! You don’t have a prepared excuse for this kind of confrontation.

“What’s it to you even? You would’ve thrown them away anyways,” you snap back with an accusatory tone.

“Not if they’re from you,” he discloses as his usually austere eyes soften up, holding your gaze. You feel like you’re about to melt.

You feel your heart beat wildly against your chest. Not long ago you had said that you didn’t want to see him, but now that he’s here, you don’t feel like moving. You don’t feel like going anywhere. Everything could be on fire around you but you’d still stay by his side.

But… this is not right. Did you already know? He doesn’t love you back.

You try to turn away to hide the gnawing pain in your chest, but he’s faster. He grabs your arm to pull you closer. When he dips down to claim your lips while his arms snake around your waist, you melt within his hold.

His lips are so warm and uncharacteristically tender as he moves them intricately against yours, causing you to place both hands against his chest to feel him even more, to feel that he is real and not just a dream induced by how badly you yearn for him.

He pulls away a bit and finds a bewildered look on your face that just makes you look adorable. There had been many times when he thought about doing this, especially whenever you’re staring into nothingness with parted lips as if coaxing him to fuck everything else and just cross the boundary of your platonic relationship.

But to be honest, he didn’t like the complications of being in a romantic relationship with you when you already have this comfortable friendship. At the end of the day, he knows you have him and he has you.

Yet, he absolutely despises the idea that you might have liked someone else. He’s never felt any resentment towards his teammates, not even to Astsumu who’s a fucking handful most of the time.

Only today.

Only when he saw that box of chocolates in Osamu’s hands that he realized that he didn’t want to share you with anyone.

It was selfish of him, wanting to keep you to himself but not really doing anything to actually make it happen.

That changes tonight.

He removes one hand from your waist to hold your hand that’s resting on his chest.

“I love you, y/n.”

You blink twice at him, evidently surprised with his confession, but immediately recover when you look down and giggle softly.

When you look back at him again, your eyes are a mixture of content and mirth. “I thought you said it’s idiotic to confess on Valentines Day,” you remind him with a wide smile.

His loving stare becomes a cold glare when you point out what he had said this morning. He didn’t plan to do it today. He just couldn’t wait until tomorrow, thereby forgetting that he had actually told you that. Although, he still believes people shouldn’t wait for the holiday to confess, it just so happened that today is when he decided to do it.

“Fine. I take it back,” he says out of petty spite.

“I’m kidding!” you respond defensively before intertwining his fingers with yours. “Actually, I was about to confess earlier, but you said the stuff about Valentines being dumb.”

“It still is,” he says, undeterred. In his defense, he really hadn’t been expecting you would.

“Right. Yet, here we are,” you state as a matter of fact as you grip his hand tighter.

“Can you answer the damn confession already?” he asks exasperatedly which makes you laugh out loud.

You settle down with an affectionate smile. “Yes, Rin. I love you too.”

He loses his stern expression as he takes your hand to his mouth and kisses it, rubbing the minor burn with his thumb, a reminder that he does appreciate what you did for him.

“Happy Valentines, I guess,” he says before he goes for your lips again.

mlist of other stuff I wrote

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @hqbeesun @megatron-1199 @lovershaikyuu

#suna fluff #suna x reader #suna angst #suna rintarou #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst

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nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

Luckless Romance

Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.

Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-

Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.

Please let me know what you think!

_____

August 2015

Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.

That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.

It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.

I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.

But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.

Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.

I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.

There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.

But it was more than just that.

There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.

Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.

"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"

"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"

Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.

"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."

His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.

"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"

I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.

"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."

Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.

"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."

There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"

My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.

"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"

"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."

It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.

"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."

"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"

"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."

Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.

"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

"As long as she promises to make better choices."

I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."

Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.

Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.

"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."

"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.

"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"

He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"

"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."

"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."

"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.

"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."

"Terrible is harsh!"

My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.

"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."

"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."

Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.

"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."

"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."

We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"

"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."

Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.

"Beginners luck!"

Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.

However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.

"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"

"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"

"It was clearly on your side!"

"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."

"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."

I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.

"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"

"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."

"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."

"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.

"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"

My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.

Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.

My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.

"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."

I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.

I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.

I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.

That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.

"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"

"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"

"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.

"Really? That's not a great area..."

"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."

"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."

"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."

"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."

Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."

"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."

Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."

I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."

Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.

"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."

"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."

"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."

"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"

"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."

"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."

"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.

"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."

"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"

"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."

"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."

"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."

I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."

"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."

"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."

Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.

"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"

"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."

They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.

"Really? Could I see them?"

"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."

I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.

"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"

"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."

We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."

I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.

"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."

"I did not!"

"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."

"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."

"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."

I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."

"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.

"You're just drunk."

"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."

There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.

"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."

Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.

My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.

I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."

"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."

Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.

"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"

Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."

"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."

"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."

Friends.

Good friends.

His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.

Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.

I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.

I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.

Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.

As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.

---

July 2016

And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.

I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.

But we kept things very much friendly.

There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.

My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.

I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.

"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"

"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."

"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."

I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.

"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"

I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.

"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."

"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."

"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."

Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.

"You're impossible."

"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."

"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."

The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."

I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.

It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.

"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."

"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."

"Nah, this place is great!"

"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."

"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"

I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.

"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."

I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.

Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.

"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."

"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."

I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.

"Then we'll stay in?"

"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."

"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."

"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."

I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.

"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."

He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.

"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"

"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."

"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."

"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."

"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."

"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.

"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."

"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."

"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."

I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.

"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."

"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."

"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."

"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."

Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.

"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."

I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.

"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."

"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."

"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."

"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."

I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.

Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.

"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."

Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.

"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."

The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.

"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."

"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."

"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"

"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."

"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."

I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."

Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.

"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."

"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."

That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.

"What was it about then?"

"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"

Chris shrugged.

"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."

"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"

"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.

"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."

Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.

"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"

I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.

"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."

"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"

I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.

"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."

"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."

I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.

Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.

"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"

He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.

"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"

Demonstrate.

Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.

Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"

Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.

His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.

He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.

It was now or never.

Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.

He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.

I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.

There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.

I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.

It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.

Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.

Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.

As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are we really doing this?"

I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.

"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."

I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.

In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.

Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.

"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."

His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.

"Alright, that's fair."

I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.

My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.

"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"So, you're like, always this strong?"

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."

My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.

"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.

"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."

With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.

I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.

Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.

"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."

"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."

He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.

I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.

I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.

"Now, it's your turn."

"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."

I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.

"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."

His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.

So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.

"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."

I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.

It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.

Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

Part Two

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot #once bitten/more hearts

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jacky-rubou · 2 years

Note

Hey, want another writing prompt?

Mabel and Dipper go back to Gravity Falls the summer after Weirdmageddon. They get everybody together to throw a surprise birthday party for the Grunkles, who are taking a short break from adventuring to visit.

It was sure great to be back. Dipper and Mabel quickly re-accustomed to life at the Mystery Shack, while they waited for Stan and Ford to come home for a break. Only a week in and Dipper remembered something he learned while in Stan's mind that one time. Their Grunkles' birthday was the 15th of June. Which was the day Stan and Ford were planning to arrive and was only a week away. Perfect for a surprise birthday party!

Mabel was absolutely ecstatic when Dipper told her of this fact. She practically hyperventilated as she started to decorate cards with her invitational stickers. Dipper did most of the planning, pondering how the party was gonna go, who to invite, what to get the Grunkles, etc. Before long, they had a solid enough plan for the party, they just needed to invite friends and get this surprise party set up.

It was a lot of effort, but the day before Ford and Stan were due to come home, they were officially finished. They got a cake from the local bakery, presents, fabulous decorations, Soos as DJ, basically everything one would want at a party. Dipper and Mabel sighed in relief as the final touches to the party room were set and the banner placed where Stan and Ford would see when they came into the Shack as normal.

"Ha, I bet you wish you could've kept that little bugger we found that one time, don't ya?" Stan teased, playfully punching Ford's shoulder, "You couldn't keep your hands off of it!"

"Ah, shut up." Ford chuckled as he reached for the doorknob to the Shack. Ford paused for he could've sworn he heard something strange on the other side of the door. Like giggling, almost. Ford opened the door to find darkness. Stan and Ford stepped inside, perplexed, when all of a sudden the lights turned on, revealing a bunch of people.

"SURPRISE!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"

The resounding yell shook them in their boots. Ford felt the need to sit down somewhere, feeling a bit overwhelmed from the sudden noises. It was their birthday, wasn't it? They both lost track of it in their hustle to get back for their break.

"You okay Ford?" Stan asked, the guests looking at him with concern as they quieted. Ford nodded and stood back up apologizing. Now he could see who was here. Dipper and Mabel, of course, Soos and his girlfriend Melody, Wendy, some friends Ford recognized as the ones on the zodiac... There was a big banner overhead that said 'Happy Birthday Stan and Ford!" in colorful rainbow letters. And streamers leading somewhere in the house.

"S-sorry Great Uncle Ford, we didn't mean to startle you." Dipper looked sheepish, turning away slightly. But before Ford could respond to that, Mabel tugged at his sleeve to where Ford could only assume the party was going to be held, Stan close behind.

What came next was quite the impressive display. The dance floor was decked out with streamers, banners, and even a piñata. A gorgeous cake stood carefully atop the table on the far side of the room. Ford whistled in awe before noticing how emotional Stan was, his hand covering his mouth. Ford reached out and put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"I'm sorry, it's just," Stan sniffled, "it's been so long since I was able to celebrate our birthday with you. I never thought I'd ever get the chance to again..." Ford pulled Stan in for a hug, whispering how he missed their birthdays together so much while in the portal. The crowd gave a collective 'aww' at this, which prompted them to part out of awkwardness.

"Hey, let's get this party started, shall we?" Stan announced, the slightest hint of emotion still in his voice, "Hit the music, Soos!" The music now blaring, it now felt like a proper party. People danced, tried to hit the piñata, or stood in a corner with a drink in hand.

The cake on its table was soon brought to the center of the room and chairs were placed all around it. Stan and Ford sat together at the head, where the cake was placed. Happy birthday was sung, and they both made their wish and blew out the candles. The cake was delicious.

"Hey, I'm curious, which one of you is older?" Dipper asked, "I don't think you've told us before." Stan immediately put on a pouty face, while Ford chuckled.

"Stan here doesn't like to admit it, but I was born first." Ford stated, a smug grin on his face, "about fifteen minutes first to be precise." Stan gave him a withering look that made everyone laugh. The two playfully bickered as they cut the cake. Then started to relate stories of their travels, which was very fascinating to everyone at the party.

After cake came presents, and there were quite a surprising number for them. Almost everyone brought something. Ford and Stan spent the rest of the evening opening presents and teasing each other about what they got. Until they got to Dipper and Mabel's gifts, which they saved for last. Dipper and Mabel watched expectantly.

Ford opened his gifts and found a hand knit bag carrying several hand knit six fingered gloves with pretty colors and designs from Mabel, who beamed at his utter delight, and the newest Dungeons Dungeons and More Dungeons set that came out this year from Dipper. Ford asked how he managed to get a hold of it and Dipper replied with "a lot of saving up."

Stan quickly snatched up his gifts and found a disguise kit from Mabel, which gave him quite a chuckle. He opened Dipper's present and found a neat set of playing cards, which he appreciated as his last set got lost in the bottomless pit.

The party soon ended after that, Ford and Stan giving Dipper and Mabel the biggest hugs they could've dreamed of as thanks for this wonderful birthday. Ford tried on one of the pairs of gloves, which fit nice and snugly on his six fingers. While Stan messed around with the disguise kit and making everyone laugh. Ford and Stan would never forget the first birthday they had together in more than 30 years.

#gravity falls #ford pines #stan pines #birthday #dipper and mabel #surprise birthday party #presents #one year later #writing prompts

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fallen-gravity · 3 years

Text

Sixty Candles

On June 15th, 1972, Stan Pines celebrates his eighteenth birthday in the back seat of his car.

or, how Stan Pines spent his birthday throughout the years.

Notes: Here is my very loose interpretation for Week 4 of @stanuary!The prompt for this week was Future with the subcategory Old, and I decided to play around with the concept of birthdays! This was a lot of fun to explore and I hope you have a ton a of fun reading! :D

AO3

At exactly midnight on June 15th, 1972, Stan Pines celebrates his eighteenth birthday in the backseat of his car.

It’s not ideal, and nothing like how he thought he had it planned from the moment he turned sixteen, but he supposes he should be thanking his lucky stars he’s able to celebrate at all. His Ma, bless her caring heart, must’ve snuck some emergency funds into his duffle bag the moment she saw Pa reaching for it before he kicked Stan to the curb.

Stan supposes that she probably intended for that money to be spent on emergency rations and gas money, but what she doesn’t know probably won’t kill her. He also supposes that he probably should’ve gotten himself a cake, but cakes are messy and he has no means of cleaning it up, so a bottle of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes will have to suffice.

He pops open the bottle with ease, and takes a large swig.

“Happy birthday, y’ asshole” he says to nobody, slamming the bottle down onto his car dashboard with more force than intended. “Hope you’re livin’ it up at home with your fancy expensive pizza and two layer cake you’ll never be able to finish on your own” He leans back against his chair, propping his arms smugly behind his head. “An’ I hope the guilt is eating you alive” he slams his hand down on one of his armrests, and reaches for the bottle on his dashboard for another swig.

Just six months ago- not even a year, just six months ago, Stan and Ford had been talking about what it’d be like to share their first drink together. They’d talked about getting absolutely wasted at the pub down the block, followed by walking to the boardwalk to ride the coaster until it made them both sick.

It wasn’t much, but it was theirs.

Stan chokes, and he isn’t quite sure if it’s the alcohol or his emotions.

“Fuck,” he coughs, and stumbles out of the car for some fresh air. In between his coughs and splutters, he takes a sharp inhale of the cool nighttime air to steady his breathing. He sighs deeply, and pulls out the pack of cigarettes from his ratty coat pocket.

He lights one up, and leans against his car to lose himself in his thoughts as he wordlessly watches the cigarette smoke dissipate into the starry night sky. Stan gets too distracted by the sight and accidentally burns his first all the way down to his fingertips, and hisses in pain as he stumbles to light a new one.

No matter. He stomps on the burnt remains with his shoe, and grinds his emotions into the ground with them.

~~~~~~~

On June 15th, 1978, Stan Pines celebrates his twenty-fourth birthday in prison.

“Pines!” An officer shouts, whacking at the cell door with his baton. “Wake up. You’ve got a visitor”

Stan sits up in the cheap cot, groggily rubbing at his eyes. “Wassat?”

The officer’s keys jingle as he clicks Stan’s cell door open. “You’ve got a visitor. He insisted it was important, so we’re giving you ten minutes to talk.”

Stan’s been to jail enough times that he knows that when someone says something’s important, it really just means that they bribed their way through security so they can talk to Stan before the designated visitor hours.

But who could possibly be willing to risk getting arrested just to talk to him before eleven in the morning? Every name that comes to mind is either on the run, already in jail, or…much worse. Anybody foolish enough to try is either out of their mind, or…someone who genuinely wants to see him.

But…who could possibly want to see him? After everything he’s done, after everyone he’s stolen from, who could possibly be left that trusts him enough to bribe a police officer for his company? The police officer happens to walk Stan by the surveillance room, and he notices his page-a-day calendar is torn to June 15th.

Stan’s heart nearly stops in his chest.

It-It couldn’t be, could it?

Six years of silence, and Ford wants to break it like this? Is this some kind of joke? What kind of idiot does Ford take him for, thinking that now is an appropriate time to make amends? After all the times Stan tried writing, or calling, or even trying to get a hold of him through Ma, now is the time that Ford finally agreed to reconvening?

Pah. He had his chance the past five times Stan tried to pass on a happy birthday. He doesn’t care if it’ll land him ten more years in prison, the moment he sees his twin brother’s stupid face he’s spitting in it.

As Stan rounds the corner to the visitation room, though, all of his anger disappears into thin air, and if it weren’t for the officer pushing him along, he’d turn heel and sprint the other way.

“My friend!” Rico cheers with a forced smile on his face. He’s holding a large box in his hand. “It’s so good to see you again!” He takes a seat at the small table, rhythmically tapping on the box.

Stan swallows hard, but takes a seat across from him. “It’s, uh…” he squirms uncomfortably, unsure if he’s allowed to address him by name. “…good to see you too, buddy. What, uh, what are you doing here?”

Rico laughs heartily. “What, a man cannot visit his best friend on his birthday?” He flips open the box he brought with him, and Stan flinches when he spins it around towards him. To his surprise, it…looks like a perfectly normal birthday cake.

“Would you mind giving us a moment alone?” Rico flashes a grin towards the police guard behind Stan. “I would like to sing my dear childhood friend happy birthday, but I’ve always been very shy about the sound of my voice. I promise I will be quick”.

Childhood friend?

The officer squints at the birthday cake in the box for a moment. “Fine.” He says. “You get two minutes. And I’m staying right outside the door to prevent anything funny from happening”

“Of course! You have my word,” Rico grins, placing his hand over his heart. The officer says nothing, and for the briefest of moments Stan’s convinced he sees right through Rico’s bullshit and he’ll let Stan slip quietly back into his cell. But after those brief moments pass, the officer shrugs as he closes the door behind him.

Rico’s fake-plastered grin slips from his face the moment the officer is out of sight.

“Alright, listen here, you walking stain upon the Earth,” Rico slips easily into Spanish. “You think you’re safe behind these bars? You think my boys still won’t burn this place to the ground to collect what you rightfully owe us? You’re gravely mistaken. We have eyes everywhere, in every corner of the globe. And don't you dare even think about running off somewhere else under a new name, Stanley Pines, because we’ll find you, one way or another”

Rico stands from his chair and pushes the cake box towards Stan. “As soon as those guards declare you a free man, we’ll be waiting for you on the outside.” He grips Stan’s shoulder as he heads towards the door. “It really is such a shame. I loved you like a brother. But you know what they say, don’t you?” He places his hand on the door, and glances back towards him. “The good ones always die young”

Before Stan has time to respond, Rico slips his fake smile back on and opens the door. “Happy birthday, my friend,” he says, slipping back into English and speaking loud enough for the officer waiting outside to hear. “I hope you enjoy your cake”

Stan swallows, defensively bringing his hands to his throat, before he carefully inspects the cake in front of him. It looks normal, as far as he’s concerned, just a standard chocolate cake with “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STAN!” inked across its surface in bright red frosting.

He contemplates. On one hand, he hasn’t had any real food outside of the slop they’ve been feeding him here for the past three months, and he’s never been one to turn away free cake.

On the other, knowing Rico…

Stan shutters. He stands to his feet, takes the cake box, and throws the whole thing into the trash can in the corner of the room.

He’d rather starve to death than risk being poisoned.

~~~~~~

Stan stopped keeping track of his age the day he started going by his brother’s name.

Sure, it wasn’t even close to being the first time he had to live under a new name. You do it enough times and you’re able to come up with an entire life story at the drop of a hat. Stetson Pinefield was from Ohio, born in the fifties in late December. Andrew "Eight Ball" Alcatraz, born in Alabama in mid-May, got his nickname from his troubled childhood that resulted from his dad getting locked up when he was only eight. It was something of a specialty, giving life to people that never truly existed.

But suddenly, all at once, Stan was forced to overtake the life of someone he loved, and it’s like he forgot how to so much as breathe. This wasn’t some sob story he could bullshit to people he’d never see again, or a name he pulled out of his ass to keep him in place just a bit longer. This is his twin brother, someone he spent every moment of his childhood with, yet someone he feels as though he doesn’t know a thing about.

Sure, none of the people in this town can tell the difference between himself and Ford, and for that he’s grateful. But a man can only pose as his possibly-dead brother for so long before somebody starts getting suspicious. Ford’s lived in this town for over ten years, he’s bound to have been on good terms with somebody.

Oh well. He’ll burn that bridge when he gets to it. For now, all Stan needs to focus on is scamming enough people out of their wallets so he can pay off the bills and keep working on the portal that swallowed his brother whole, and those seem to be going…well, just about as smoothly as teaching yourself three years-worth of advanced multiverse physics when you never even graduated from high school can go, but at least he’s making process.

Turns out, there’s still one more flaw in Stan’s plan that even he should’ve been able to factor in.

As much of a recluse Ford advertised himself to be to the locals of Gravity Falls, it turns out that he always receives a call from home on his birthday.

The first year Stan spends in Gravity Falls, he debates letting the phone go to voice mail. He has no idea how in or out of character it would be for Ford to answer his phone, nor does he have any idea who could be calling at all.

Eventually, though, he figures it’d probably look even more suspicious if he doesn’t pick up, and Stan isn’t willing to risk anything, even if it means bullshitting his way through a phone call for the rest of the night.

He takes a deep breath, and with a shaky hand he picks up the phone.

“Stanford?” his mother says, and to say he’s overjoyed to hear her voice for the first time in years is a massive understatement.

“Ma?” Stan replies, struggling not to slip into his own voice. “Why are you calling?”

She cackles. “Well hello to you too, birthday boy. I’m starting to think all of that research is getting to your head. Can’t a mother call her son on his birthday?”

Stan blinks. Is it…really June already? “Is that today?”

She laughs again. “See? It is getting to you! Do your poor aging mother a favor and go outside and get some sunshine. It’ll be good for you!” She quips. “Or at the very least, please, take a break and go to bed early tonight, for me”

Stan smiles. “Okay, Ma. I will.”

“Good,” she replies matter-of-factly. “Now, tell me all about what it’s like up there on the West Coast. Is it unbearably hot over there? I can’t seem to find your little town on my map. Must be why it’s so spooky, since you’re the only living soul for miles.” She laughs again. “I’m kidding, dear. I’m sure it’s fantastic. Tell me everything.”

And all at once, it’s like Stan’s a kid again. Stan and his Ma talk on the phone for hours. He figures that Ford must not call very often, so he spews out anything that comes to mind in hopes that she doesn’t see right through him. She buys it, miraculously, and when they hang up at the end of the night Stan promises that he’ll try and call home more often.

It becomes an easy pattern for Stan to slip into as the years go by. Just as long as he calls frequently enough not to raise suspicion, he can always look forward to receiving a call on June 15th every year. Some tiny part of him feels selfish for posing as his brother and lying to his mother for so long, but it’s the most connected he’s felt to any sort of family in years.

Deep down, though, he knows he can’t get too comfortable, and there’s still too many loose ends he needs to tie up before he can let his guard down.

On June 5th, 1987, just before his thirty-third birthday, Stan Pines dies in a fiery car crash.

On June 7th, he just barely misses a call from home as he’s coming up from tinkering with the portal.

“Stanford”, his mother’s voice says, lacking any of the snarky bite it usually contains. “I know that you’re a very busy man with your research, and driving all the way back to New Jersey on such a short notice is…unfair of me to ask of you, but…” She pauses to take a shaky breath, like she’s struggling not to cry. “But something terrible happened to Stanley, and…” she pauses again. “We’re holding a service for him on the fifteenth. I know that things haven’t been great between you two the past few years, and I can’t imagine a funeral would be an ideal way to spend your birthday, but…It was the only date they had available, and it would really mean the world to all of us if you could attend. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. Call me as soon as you get this, okay? I love you.”

There’s a click, and she’s gone, and Stan contemplates his options.

Would Ford attend his funeral, if things were exactly the way it seemed? Would Ford even consider him worthy of the time? He’d said it himself: I want you to get as far away from me as possible. Would Ford be relieved that he was finally rid of him, like a weight off his shoulders?

Stan doesn’t even realize that he started crying until a tear drop lands on the counter beside the phone. Just how long has Ford been waiting to get rid of him, anyway?

No. Stan shakes those thoughts away. He can’t lose himself in those kinds of thoughts again. Every time he lets those thoughts get to him, bad things happen.

Besides…a funeral for, er, himself, may not be the most ideal way to spend his birthday, but finally being able to spend it at home for the first time in near decades, despite the circumstances, still beats slaving over an indecipherable journal in a dimly lit basement for twelve hours straight.

He takes a deep breath, and dials home.

“Hey, Ma”

~~~~~~~~

Ever since he turned eighteen, Stan found himself unable to celebrate his birthday without a sour taste in his mouth. As a kid, he looked forward to it more than anything. It was the one day a year that Pa would splurge and let him and Ford do whatever they wanted, and having a birthday in mid-June meant that there was only about a week of school left before they were free for the summer.

Most of all, it was about togetherness. Stan and Ford never had that many friends when they were growing up, so their shared birthdays were always about spending time together, because nobody else deserved to come to their party and celebrate with them anyways.

Once he was forced to spend his birthdays on the streets, Stan was starting to think that maybe he didn’t deserve it either. Even when he did have people to celebrate with, whether that be his cellmates in prison or nameless gamblers in Vegas casinos, everything felt empty, and there isn’t enough cake or alcohol in this world that could’ve filled that void.

Those early summers in Gravity Falls were the worst years of his life. The calls from home were nice, sure, but his stomach flipped with nausea every time his mother called him Stanford. To no fault of her own, she made him feel as though her love was conditional, and that he wasn’t meeting any of the requirements.

He knows, of course, that it’s not true in the least, but Stan just wishes that wake-up call hadn’t come from attending his own funeral. Stan had gone in expecting to have a terrible time, but he really had thought that seeing his mother’s face for the first time in a decade would’ve cushioned that fall.

Turns out that it only made him feel worse, and he’d declared sometime later over a bottle of whiskey that his birthday must be cursed, and that he never wanted to celebrate it again.

~~~~~~~~

On June 15th, 2013, Stan wakes to the sound of a seagull screeching its head off outside his window. He groans, and sits up in bed to look out his window, but all that meets his eye is the vast sea. He looks then to his bedside clock, which reads 8:30am.

Grumbling to himself, Stan kicks off his covers and stands to his feet, because he knows if he tries to go back to sleep now he’ll be out cold until mid-afternoon. He ruffles through his clothing drawer and picks one of Mabel’s hand knit sweaters at random, because the Arctic doesn’t care what time of year it is when it comes to the weather.

Ford is already sitting out on a deck chair with a fishing rod when Stan steps out of his bedroom.

“Morning” Stan says as he approaches so as not to sneak up on his brother and spook him.

“Oh, good morning, Stanley” Ford smiles as Stan takes the seat beside him. “Did I wake you?”

“Unless you’re a screaming bird, then no” Stan rubs at his eyes. “How long you been up?”

Ford shrugs. “About an hour, hour and a half, I think? What time is it?”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “You sure you slept at all, Poindexter?” He holds three fingers mere inches from Ford’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Ford smacks his hand away. “Very funny, Stanley. I’ll have you know that I got a solid four and a half hours of sleep last night”

Stan cackles. “Woah, looks like we got a new record, folks” He stretches his arms in the air. “You make any coffee yet? I’m still not awake enough to deal with the cold”

“Oh,” Ford replies, like the question caught him off guard. He stands to his feet. “I must’ve completely forgotten” he says.

That reply does catch Stan off-guard. Ford? Forgetting to make coffee? His practical lifeline? There must be something up.

Stan rises from his chair, frowning. “You sure you’re doing okay, Sixer?”

“Of course,” Ford replies, not turning back to look at him. “I’m just…tired, is all”

Okay, Ford knows that Stan can sniff out a lie from hundreds of miles away, so whatever it is that Ford is hiding from him must be really bad, because---

That train of thought leaves his head just as quickly as it had entered it the moment he steps foot into the kitchen. There’s a banner hanging up above the window that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY, and there are a handful of multicolored balloons scattered across the floor.

And right at the center of their table sits two cupcakes and two steaming cups of coffee.

“It was Mabel’s idea,” Ford finally turns to meet Stan’s eyes, smiling. “She called me last night to try and walk me through her cupcake recipe, but…” he rubs at the back of his head as he takes a seat at the table. “It turns out that baking isn’t quite my forte” He gestures to the seat across from him at the table. “So instead, when we were still docked last night, I snuck off board to hunt down a bakery”

Ford fiddles with the paper wrapper on his cupcake. “I know it’s not much, but…” he raises his cupcake in the air like he was making a toast. “Happy birthday”

Not much?

This is winning the lottery compared to all the other birthdays Stan’s suffered through.

He takes the seat across from Ford, and raises his own cupcake to clink it against Ford’s.

“Happy birthday to you too, Poindexter”

#my writing #gravity falls #stanuary #stan pines

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ramblesanddragons · 3 years

Text

Love Who You Want

(I wanted to post this yesterday but...anyway here is something short and sweet for the Sea Grunkle’s birthdays and Pride month. I haven’t had the energy to write the past few weeks but I really wanted to write this one. There’s probably more to come but later. )

The pub wasn’t crowded. It had a steady flow of patrons in and out but not too many. An old record player in the back corner provided a bit of music to fill in any quiet moments that might occur. It was nice. Ford preferred the solitude of the boat but this wasn’t so much that he couldn’t relax. Stan was correct in his thinking that the two of them needed some social time. Well it was more of a need for Stan than Ford but he was having a good time anyway.

While Ford nursed his drink and went over some of his notes he could hear Stan by the darts. He was playing with a few other men while telling them about some of their more believable exploits. One man in particular with salt and pepper hair and deep set laugh lines sat attentively listening. Stan was giving this guy extra attention, his eye contact never strayed from him too long and he was telling all of his worse jokes. Ford smiled at his brother’s antics; he knew him well enough by now to tell he was flirting with the man. Boy he was glad the Stan of War had two separate rooms on nights like this. Finishing his drink up he pulled out his wallet to head back to the ship so Stan could have some fun. Before he could pay Stan appeared at his side and slumped onto the stool. Craning his neck back Ford could see the man Stan had been flirting with staring into his drink with disappointment. His brother ordered a whiskey and shot it back then clapped Ford on the back.

“Alright back to the old boat.”

Ford may have been apart from Stan for a while but the past few months had retaught him a lot about his brother. Specifically how he would put on a brave face when hurt. Currently his brother was very hurt. Had the man insulted Stan or turned him down? That didn't sit right with Ford, his brother was a great guy!

“I’m fine here for a bit longer. What happened to darts?”

“Oh ya know ya hit the target enough times it gets boring.”

Okay. Direct approach then.

“What happened with that one gentleman you were talking with? I thought that was going well from the looks of things.”

He saw his brother swallow hard and his ears turned pink. “I mean yeah guy’s nice. Just swapped some stories and that’s it. Not much else to do with a guy. Nothing at all.”

Ford blinked a few times as his brain worked. A memory of the two of them on the Stan of War as teens reached the forefront of his mind. Stan confessing he was scared to death of the crush he had on the captain of the football team. “I think I’m broken Sixer. What if Pa finds out? What if he already knows and that’s why he hates me?!”

It had taken Ford all night to calm Stan down, constantly reminding him that he didn't care about who Stan loved and that Ma wouldn’t care either. His “problem” was fixed when Carla transferred into their class and he fell head over heels for her. It then occurred to Ford that Stan didn’t remember that night. Even now there were gaps in his memory. Pushing a new wave of guilt down Ford asked the barkeep for another round for the two of them. Guilt could happen later; he needed to help Stan now. After downing it Ford smiled. "You know I had the biggest crush on Fiddleford in college."

Stan choked on his whiskey. After a good minute of Stan trying to regain breathing capabilities he stared at Ford slack jawed. It wasn't often Ford was able to truly leave Stan speechless. "Oh come now. Are you that surprised?"

"No, I guess. You just never talked about uh romance and stuff. The only time you did it was with that Crenshaw girl," Stan muttered.

"I also had a crush on Mr. Wilson the Chemistry teacher. I was just too embarrassed to admit it," Ford said.

"Oh. Well why didn't you, ya know, get with him?"

"At some point I realized he was deeply in love with Emma May. I got over it. Besides it was something, like you, I tried to keep hidden. Stan, during my travels I've met many people of all sorts of gender expressions or lack thereof. If you were perhaps worried about what I might think, don't be."

Stan fiddled with his glass. He looked a lot less uncomfortable and after a moment even smiled. Then it evolved into laughter. "Wait, you've been with aliens? And you haven't told me?"

Now it was Ford's turn to go pink in the ears. " I really don't like to discuss such things. There weren't that many. Romantic companionship has never been high on my priority list."

Stan chortled a little more then sighed, "Pa would skin us alive if he knew."

"Our father was a homophbic and toxic individual. I used to be so ashamed but I've learned there's nothing to be ashamed of. This dimension isn't as progressive as it should be. Honestly the people of 3@46/ could teach us all a thing or two. While I was there..." Ford stopped and sighed. "Sorry. You don't need tangents you need...a wingman? "

"Sixer no offence but I think I can handle it. "

Confidence renewed, Stan stood and started to strut over to the guy by the dart board. He stopped before he got too far and turned back to Ford. "Hey. Thanks for...uh yeah."

"Nothing to thank me for. Later when we're back at this ship I'll be glad to talk about it some more. And if anyone ever gives you trouble about it they will have trouble with me!" Ford said triumphantly. He hadn't had a chance to be the protective older brother he should have been. Now was as good a time as any to start. Stan rolled his eyes good naturedly. After a deep breath he strode back over to the man with the salt and pepper hair, a charming smile on his face.

(I used to feel Aro/Ace for Ford but lately I’ve been thinking Pan and maybe Ace works too. Stan is Bi as the day is long lol)

#Gravity Falls #My writing #stanley pines #stanford pines

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whumphoarder · 4 years

Note

do you have any fics where peter's spider side is sometimes more harm than good? I read the one where he ate bugs after getting his jaw wired shut and really like those sorts (reactions to peppermint, bug spray, citrus, etc). if you have any that'd be great!

Spider Repellants:

Peter Parker and Peppermint Don't Mix by @spider-man-stan

“The reaction seems to be in response to peppermint, boss.” Friday supplied. “Peppermint is known to repel spiders, and can be lethal in large quantities.”

In which Peter gives Tony and the gang a rather festive health scare on Christmas Eve

Peppermint-the Flavor of Evil by ironmanisalive

AKA Peter is allergic to peppermint because of the bite and doesn't tell anyone about it until he's almost dying.

beware clowns wielding bug spray by @hailing-stars

Peter gets sprayed in the face with bug spray by a clown robbing a gas station.

Poison Apple by @whumphoarder

A field trip gone wrong leaves Peter and Ned wandering through a seemingly endless corn maze. This would be bad enough, but when Peter starts getting seriously ill on top of that, it all goes to shit.

relax, just breathe by @hailing-stars

The Starks go on a road trip that goes wrong when Peter gets food poisoning from questionable carnival food.

Chickpea and Bleach Curry by @midsommersolstice

All Tony wanted was a couple hours to buy something nice for his fiance, but Peter's spider DNA has other plans.

There’s No Place Like Home (For The Holidays) by @seek-rest

Peter was halfway through his senior year at MIT, had a serious girlfriend that Tony already knew would become his wife someday, and an aunt and grumpy step-uncle that missed him just as much - if not more - than Tony did.

Tony hadn’t ever been used to sharing in his life, much less having to wait around for the attention of anyone. But there had been a time when Tony had believed he’d never see Peter again, another moment when he’d been willing to risk it all with a snap of his fingers.

Tony had waited five years for Peter. He could wait a few more days.

Tis the Season by viviegirl05

“Peter? What…”

“What the HELL is that stench?!”

Kryptonite by @forensicleaf

The kid is acting weird.

Tony tries to figure it out.

Midnight Oil by @jolinarjackson

After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

Spider Anatomy:

step right up and look at the freak by @icymapletree

“Eight limbs isn’t a good look, kid.”

Peter looked at his feet, six arms falling at his side. “I know.”

It's My Party and I'll Bite If I Want To by @whumphoarder

Peter grows venomous fangs on his sixteenth birthday and wrecks havoc at the Avengers compound. Tony’s pretty chill, all things considered.

Tooth problems and MJ problems by alltheSinnersandalltheSaints

Peter’s fangs are acting up and he’s been getting awful headaches. But what’s worse, is that he’s got a massive crush on MJ and has no idea what to do.

Hibernation:

hibernation by tuaslut

“Hey, what’s the password for the WiF- what the fuck is that?” Steve says as he walks into the lab before he pauses.

Hanging in front of Steve is Peter.. in a cocoon?

Mid-winter Siesta by @whimsicalethnographies

“‘M not tired,” Peter rubs his eyes when they reach the heavy oak door of his room, obviously very tired. He shivers. “‘M jus’ cold.”

Of Wally-Crawly Harnesses and Over-Enthusiastic Hat-Bestowing Capabilities by @theoceanismyinkwell

After Peter faints into hibernation because he can't thermoregulate, Tony isn't taking anymore chances. Out come the wool skeins and the knitting needles.

Sleeping Through a Rogue Winter Storm by Pogokitten

Peter gets stuck out in the cold and goes into hibernation. Now Tony needs to keep Peter at the compound while a cure is found and keep the kid hidden from his old teammates he no longer trusts.

Five Times Peter Parker Pretended to Be Asleep by @blondsak

Chapter 4: Frigid Fake Out

Cold Snap by inkinmyheartandonthepage

“Hey, did you know that some spiders hibernate.”

“I did,” Peter hummed happily.

“Hmmm. And did you think that it would have been wise to share that little bit of information?” Tony huffed.

“Why?” Peter frowned.

“I don’t know, maybe because you triggered a hibernation sequence and you’ve been asleep for three days,” Tony quipped.

An Extreme Case of the Sleepies... by Slothbeans

Peter is just adjusting to his life as Spider-Man when a polar vortex settles over Queens, sending the new spiderling into a hibernation.

Warmer in the Winter by @the-reverse-mermaid

Nobody's seen Peter for a couple days. ...this is how Tony finds out that spiders hibernate.

Other Spidery Traits:

spider tendencies (series) by kitty_pryde_bi_pride

a series of one-shots in which Peter’s spider traits come through

Bugging Out by @blondsak & @whumphoarder

After recovering from a broken jaw and a lengthy stay in the compound’s medbay, Peter is horrified to discover that his dietary preferences have shifted drastically.

Or, in which Peter does everything possible not to give in to his sudden new cravings, Tony gets a hankering of his own, and May—as always—is a trooper.

Go Down Swinging by @whumphoarder

Peter has been tediously trying to finish his calculus exam for the past two hours. But how the hell is he supposed to focus with the enemy lurking just over his shoulder?

a sticky situation by @ciaconnaa

“Hey, Tony, look what I can do!”

Of all the things he expected in the grand adventure that is babysitting Peter’s daughter, Tony did not expect to turn his head to find the kid stuck to the ceiling.

Like father, like daughter, it would seem.

#Anonymous #rec list #fic rec #spider traits #actual spider peter parker #hibernation

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

Note

Does Virgil from Weightless ever find his skin? It’s one of my favourite fics from you and I’d love to read what happens after!

Oof, okay so in Weightless, Virgil does find his skin! I won’t write it, purely because I don’t have the time :/// but I can give you some run downs of what would happen!!

((This is still longer than I meant it to be oh my god))

First order of business is Patton uses some of his djinn magic to locate a magic shop which is run by a pixie who calls himself Deceit and whom absolutely abhors Patton. He’s sympathetic to Virgil’s cause but he runs a business so in exchange for an actual locating spell that works on people from memory he needs something just as powerful in return.

Logan steps up and offers a bit of his blood-- him being part gorgon gives him potent blood that is definitely is rare. Deceit eyes him warily but accepts it and he gives Virgil the spell.

((Deceit also reveals the secret that Patton’s been hiding while they’re there: as a Djinn he can’t disobey any order. Which is why he’s always being so helpful and when the others ask him to do basic things he drops whatever he’s doing to complete the task. It also includes things such as “Don’t listen to this conversation until I snap my fingers” while Deceit does just because he’s petty and can.))

While they were out though, their house got broken into and its no longer safe at home, so Roman cashes in a favor with his brother in order for them to have a place to crash. Logan and Patton go over the spell with Virgil which requires the user of it to fall to sleep before its activated. Remus and Roman have a heart to heart which turns into Roman coughing up blood and his own secret being revealed: the reason why Roman acts so scattered brained and often has a hard time thinking about the others is because he quite literally can’t stop thinking about having sex, and if he goes too long without engaging in it his body starts breaking down. He was cursed as a young adult by a vengeful witch who thought they were dating when he thought they were just friends....who sometimes slept together.

((He knows its not an excuse for him acting like that, which is why he never mentioned it to anyone, but also why he’s always seeking out partners and even though he’s an incubus, he thinks if he never had sex again he’d be okay. ))

Virgil sleeps and the spell works and when he wakes up Logan hands him a map and in a trance-like state marks with a pen where his attackers are.

Remus is really excited to see an opportunity to beat up people so he comes with them to confront the guys. The attackers turn out to be a from a low level gang so there are a lot of them and turns out there were people watching them when they left Deceit’s place, the gang over powered him and dragged him out to their warehouse where they were were in the process of ripping out his wings.

And Remus completely ignores any “don’t kill” suggestions and goes right to ripping out some throats the second he sees any magical creature being tortured like that. Roman isn’t far behind them and Patton uses his magic to help free Deceit and try to heal the places where his wings were damaged. Virgil breaks the water pipes and use his water manipulating ability to defend Patton and Deceit.

((Patton reveals here that the reason why Deceit hates him so much is because he knows Deceit’s true name, which gives him absolutely control over the pixie, but Patton uses it to make Deceit stay awake through the pain, as he lost a lot of blood and if he fell unconscious now he probably wouldn’t wake back up))

Logan curbs enough of Roman and Remus’s rage to save one of the gang in order to ask him what happened to the selkie skin they stole, (and the gang member looks around at all his dead friends and asks “a skin was worth all this?” and Logan asks him, “Did you not think you were ruining lives by taking things that weren’t yours? Did you truly think no one was hurt by your actions?”)

The gang member admits they don’t have the skin, but that they sold it to these collectors: the Ackroyds, who paid them really well for it, you see? They had all sort of freaky things in their collection and he’d take a skin but he wouldn’t like kill the things and put them on display like those humans do.

And Logan freezes up at the name, noticeably, but the man is hysterical with trying to prove that he’s not really that bad, and before anyone can do anything, Logan takes off his glasses and turns the man to stone.

He puts them back on immediately but steps away from the group and refuses to look at them. He tells them that the skin is a lost cause and that they should give up.

To which Virgil is audibly horrified and angry because they got this far!! And Logan promised him--!! and Logan whips around and tells him that he never made any such promises and that if Virgil doesn’t let it go he’ll turn Virgil to stone as well, because he won’t like Virgil drag all his friends to their dooms.

At which, Deceit laughs brokenly, and asks if Logan go to attempt to make his own collection just like his parents--

And Logan’s secret comes to light: he wasn’t always part gorgon. He was actually human and his parents are mythical creature collectors but they collected creatures like butterflies: killing and pinning them in glass cases. But they often found that some creatures were immune to dying in ways that didn’t desecrate their bodies. Their solution? Find a way to make them ever lasting statues, using their son and a very expensive, unrepeatable experiment.

Logan admits that he remembers the faces of every person that his parents forced him to kill, of everyone who meets his eyes. Its his curse, and he’s always been afraid of it, because one day...he always knew that he’d join their collection too. He ran away as soon as he could, but his parents had people track him down and he was dragged back to them and they began to lock him in his room, and he was not allow out of the house at all anymore. Logan managed to escape by chance just before his sixteenth birthday.

By the time he’s finished talking he’s shaking and his knees give out but Remus is there to catch him and no one knows what to say about anything.

“I can’t...” Logan whispers, “I can’t let you go there. I can’t... please... anyone who goes there doesn’t.....get out...”

And surprisingly its Roman who speaks up, strangely blithely about it all, “Well, they were always alone, weren’t they? Hey, Specs, don’t you know you aren’t alone, anymore?”

And it turns into a rallying thing where the six of them agree that they have each other, and that they can work together to take down Logan’s parents and keep any more mythical creatures from dying at their hands. I don’t have the actual final battle thing planned out so the rest of this is really but scratched out notes and concepts that if i were actually writing this, would be subject to change according to where the plot goes.

They infiltrate first by using Virgil’s selkie rareness to draw the attention of the Ackroyds.

Unfortunately the Ackroyds are expecting them so they kinda all stumble into a trap and Logan is taken back by his parents for-- and what great timing this is! They have a new rare species!! An archangel who would look magnificent next to the Avians!

((The archangel is like eight. His name is Thomas and he’s sobbing because he doesn’t know how to use his powers yet.))

But first, its a good thing to take care of the meddling monsters that Logan had first become friends with. Starting with that selkie! And because they want him to look picture perfect even as stone they get his skin and tell him that if he cooperates they’ll let the djinn and the incubi go free (the pixie has to stay though. Its another rarity).

And well.

Virgil has been holding on to a secret too.

He’s actually the goddamn Prince of the entire fucking sea and his power is linked to his skin.

Which means that when they put the skin back on him, his abilities increase about 100fold. We stan OP Virgil in this house. Remind me how much of humans is water again? Yeah. Virgil drowns them in their own bodies and frees everyone else.

The Ackroyds have like a lot of people working for them though, so theres a battle that happens and in the middle of it Logan’s glasses get knocked off and broken and Thomas throws himself in front of Logan. Which, because Logan’s gorgon eyes are the same as staring into someone’s soul, leads to Logan staring into Thomas’s divine soul and it literally burns and blinds him.

((Thomas is really sorry, but Logan just starts sobbing thank yous to this eight year old, because now he’s never going to be forced to kill someone else.))

Our heroes win!! The Ackroyds are finished. Patton and Deceit put aside their differences in order to take joint custody of babey archangel Thomas and they, along with Roman and Logan end up living in a beach house together while researching how to remove the curse that’s on Roman. Remus comes and goes, bringing back exotic podcasts for Logan to listen too and bringing news from other locations about monster hunting.

Logan broke into his family vault and took all the money that his parents made off of selling and exploiting creatures and used it all to finance mythical creatures safehouses all across the globe. He trusts Remus and Roman to help watch over them.

Virgil returns to the ocean, just like Logan said he would at the very beginning of the story, although its because he has prince duties to adhere too. And he still sneaks up every once in a while to have dinner with all of them because I’m weak and soft for found family.

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yourdorkiness · 3 years

Text

My Opinions On Jujutsu Kaisen That Literally Nobody Asked For

I finished binging the Jujutsu Kaisen manga in 48 hours. I am having some expresso, because I’m depresso.

Here’s a Sad Stitch to show you how I feel.

(And of course, warnings for discussion/ranting/kinda meta on the Jujutsu Kaisen manga below the cut, so please read at your own discretion!)

Sukuna is truly a Bastard™, along with Mahito.

I just- *cries in Shibuya Arc aka PAIN*

*Pulls out megaphone* Nanamin.

That’s all folks. Thanks for reading, have a nice day!

(Just kidding!)

Ugh, NANAMIN 👏 WHAT 👏 A 👏 MAN 😭 😭 😭 😭 I became a certified Nanami stan once I saw the tired business man aesthetic (plus, his words about how work is shit? Truer words have never been spoken), and his little speech about adults and responsibility, how children no matter their circumstances are still children, and should be given the opportunity to act as such. Because, YES, FINALLY, A RESPONSIBLE ADULT WITH THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL aka the voice of Kenjiro Tsuda

Anyways, I love how the Jujutsu Kaisen manga shows that adults can handle things, and that is A-OKAY!!! If Jujutsu Tech follows the Japanese school system, Yuji is a first year in high school, so he’s probably 15 or 16 years old, way too early to go through Shibuya level of trauma (though, I think anybody is too young to have to go through what happened to Yuji in Shibuya).

Children should have the privilege to be children. That doesn’t mean coddling, it means that children should have plenty of time to experience new things, enjoy being a child, and I’m so happy Nanami says this!

In conclusion, Nanami deserves happiness and a vacation to Kuantan 🥺

YOSHINO JUNPEI!!! He and his mom deserve happiness, they’re both precious beans. I didn’t even realize Junpei was dead until 5+ chapters later. But it was too late, for I had already gotten attached!!! *cue curse worthy screeching*

I was so excited for Junpei to join Jujutsu Tech, too! I had this whole headcanon of Junpei being HAPPY again, talking about movies with Yuji, interacting with the other first years, him seeing Panda for the first time!!! The thing was, back then, it wasn’t headcanon! I thought it was going to be facts, until Gege said ‘lol, you thought, peasant’, before spitting on any hope of mine for a happy Junpei.

(On a completely different tangent, I would be SO psyched if I got to meet a talking panda, we could act out all of “Kung Fu Panda” together, especially the chopstick scene, and maybe we could go to a zoo, just to mess with the zookeepers about a honest to god PANDA walking on its hind legs around the zoo)

‘If Junpei had lived’ is a phrase I think about a lot, and I think that is why the “Young Fish and Reverse Punishment” arc was so crucial to the story and yet so tragic.

Junpei has so much potential to be happy, and then he didn’t get the happiness he deserves. It really sets the tone, the high stakes to the whole manga, for we see the amount of damage a curse inflicts on somebody who could be in a situation like Junpei.

As the readers, we understand the reasoning behind Junpei’s ideology, sympathizing with him as we see what horrible torment he has to go through. That very first scene of this arc, where the bullies made him eat the cockroach and BURNED HIM WITH A LIT CIGARETTE, and the teacher who saw all of this happening, JUST TURNS AWAY!!! It was haunting. But finally, finally, we get a light at the tunnel for Junpei in the form of our lord and saviour, the cinnamon roll of cinnamon rolls, Itadori Yuji. HERE is a person who is able to connect with Junpei, who wouldn’t dismiss how Junpei’s circumstances or feelings. and then Junpei dies.

(look at this cute face, how could you Mahito?!)

Also, the symbolism in the opening? The Junpei fish ENLARGING??? HNKDJSFLJDSF JUNPEI NOOO-

Also ALSO (sorry this is the last ‘also’), did we ever learn if Junpei was a sorcerer, or was he a window that possessed enough talent to summon a shikigami? I at first thought Junpei was a window, since he was able to see Mahito, and was hoping that we’d get a more detailed explanation of what windows actually do. (Do they just wander around Tokyo, or wherever they live, and act all ‘La Dee Da, just living my regular, normal life, oOOHHH is that a special grade? Tell that to the sorcerers, maybe I’ll get a bonus!’ Is their life basically a demented version of Pokemon Go? I have so many questions-)

All the villains were well written, and had super cool character designs. My top three villains other than Sukuna, my top three villains are Geto, and Mahito.

Geto’s backstory in the Hidden Inventory arc was so incredibly written, I especially liked the way Gege wrote how Getou’s righteous ideals gradually deteriorating throughout the Hidden Inventory arc as he realizes the depth of the curses of humanity, the dark hatred the “weak” hold towards things they have no understanding of. (i.e. Riko’s death by the Star Religious Group, Haibara’s death, and finally the villagers ignorant treatment and abuse towards Geto’s twins, Mimiko and Nanako, beating and imprisoning them for “causing” the deaths of the villagers) Geto’s chilling charisma and the reasoning behind his actions as a villain makes him a top tier villain in my eyes.

As for Mahito, I love to hate him, and that why I think he is a great antagonist. I guess I’ve just been seeing a lot of villains that because of their tragic backstories, the readers or characters sympathize with them and rationalising their actions, turning the villain into a flaky antihero of lesser impact. It’s very refreshing to have a villain who is just pure evil.

I think that Mahito fulfilled his purpose as an antagonist very well; his twisted ideals on the worth of human life foiling Itadori’s own ideals of giving others a “proper death”, the curse making Yuji continuously adapt both physically and mentally to defeat him. Physically, by learning new spells and techniques to defeat Mahito, such as the Black Flash (and possibly his own cursed technique! The weird “Past That Never Happened” in the fights with Choso and Todo), or mentally, by questioning his ideals, such as what exactly is a “proper death”, after Yuji had to kill the transfigured humans.

(Ew look at this worm.)

Some Honorable Mentions of Good Villains IMO: Jogo, because I find his ideals of curses, who stem from the true emotions of hatred and fear, being superior yet suppressed by the emotionally faceted humans is definitely fascinating, and eerily reminds me of Geto’s hatred towards non sorcerers. Dagon was pretty cute in his Cursed Womb stage, and I really liked Hanami because the eldritch environmentalist aesthetic is pretty coolio 👌 .

How do Inumaki children learn to speak if all the adults barely talk, only saying inane words like “salmon” and NOT ACTUALLY meaning “salmon, the fish” but an adult secret code for a definition that you might not even know?? Or do the adults just charmspeak the kids, like “SPEAK small child, and have full language comprehension, O tiny ball of pudge!” and boom! Babies talking in complete sentences, maybe understanding weird adult customs. Will the child know when then adult actually mean salmon, the fish, and not the code word salmon?

Let’s assume that Inumaki clan children from learning to speak to four or six years old will be able to speak normally until the clan technique sets in (because that’s when the jjk wiki says cursed techniques kick in). How do you explain to a toddler: “Hey sweetie, happy birthday, have a present! Oh, by the way, those cool tattoos of yours mean that you can’t talk normally to anybody anymore, EVER. Only using these specific words as code to mean these specific meanings, restricting any chance of normal interactions with non-sorcerers if by some inane chance you DON’T want to become a child soldier jujutsu sorcerer. Welp, guess you have to become a jujutsu sorcerer now! Make sure to restrict your choice of words, you could kill somebody! Have fun playing with your Legos honey, welcome to adult life.” Like, EXCUSE ME?

You can’t tell mw a four year old is expected to understand that (or didn’t kill somebody by accident via cursed speech. That MUST have happened at least once).

This is all an elaborate way of saying please give us Inumaki backstory, I’m very curious.

Anyways, thank you for reading my post, and I hope you have a nice day!

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exolgravity · 4 years

Text

Let me share some thoughts about the ending of 'Start Up' and the preview of episode 15:

I believe it was HJP who said Dalmi to look for Dosan at any cost, that's why she followed him to that dark place in the mountains. I believe he said it as the advice he previously didn't want to give her in the car, because he was too involved. But as he knows how to separate business and personal feelings as he did with Yongsan conversation, he probably said to Dalmi to not give up so easily and as a CEO she needed to keep trying and have the best workers for her company.

I also think that HJP is giving the plant to Dosan to force him take some serious attitude towards Dalmi or he is gonna throw it away. That's why there's that scene hint where he says to Dosan to not feel inferior to him. Maybe he used the plant to get rid of his feeling coz he knows Dalmi still likes Dosan.

The 'sail without a map' scene is another hint about Dalmi's choice. HJP is a business man, an investor, he doesn't take risks so easily, he plans and calculates everything coz he knows how much he can lose by doing a wrong choice. When Dalmi wrote that letter talking about the sailing without a map she was talking about once in a life, about a special day when you don't want to follow a plan, when you are so desperate that you just want to be all wet by the rain, but she does know how plans are important. Probably Dosan is using this quote as his motto life, what means he didn't find his dream yet. He is constantly lost and following the path of life without thinking too much. Any decision he took wasn't totally his decision: Go to San Francisco, break up with Dalmi, tell the truth to Dalmi, come back to Korea... He was kinda following other people choices. And this can be dangerous, even for a relationship. Maybe Dalmi likes his lost puppy way, but she is a very realistic person, she knows that plans are necessary.

There are some hints that we should consider: 1. When Dalmi said she doesn't regret any choice she makes when she chose HJP as the mentor was really symbolic, 2. When HJP is drinking and talking to that lady in ep 10, he says he had regretted confessing his feelings for Dalmi and then, she answered that he shouldn't be regretful because he would feel the same if he hadn't told anything and now he still has a chance to get a win, 3. Youngsil never misses a predict about HJP and the last one was about he stopping to be scared and swing his bat, coz or he will miss the ball or he will make a home run. In baseball a home run is not that easy and simple thing to do and the one able to make it can change the whole game. 4. All the probability numbers said by Dosan's mother is also meaningful, coz the first time she said it, it was about Dalmi liking him or not during his birthday. But even though Dalmi actually liked him, she broke up with him. Now she said the probability is 100% if they come back together, but it will be too obvious for the drama keep saying its resolution so early. The scene of the mother saying this was an epilogue what it means an important thing to the viewer observe.

There's still all the family drama to solve. Even though Dalmi's mom and grandma are living together, there is still an issue between Dalmi and Injae. They have been working together for 3 years, but I feel their relationship as sisters haven't improved that much. I think they still have to talk about the choices they did in the past, forgive each other and understand that family choices and professional success are not necessarily connected. I do hope they solve this issue, coz it was a very important thing since episode 1.

Even though it seems DoDal couple is endgame, I wouldn't take it for granted so easily. The drama kept holding the love triangle till now so it means there's a choice to be done yet. They also need to think about the consequences of each choice they make, coz if DoDal is actually endgame, how is gonna be HJP ending with the family? He will not be able to be with the family as he was before. And if, for some reason, Dalmi choses HJP in the end, what's gonna happen to Dosan? That boy has a lot of things to solve in his mind too. He has been living this imposter life for too long, and got worst when he started to be a real imposter by becoming the Dosan of the letters.

This drama has a lot, a lot of plot holes that need to be filled in the last 2 episodes. I don't know if it's gonna be enough, so that's why I'm not waiting that much. But reflecting about TvN/Netflix dramas and the other dramas of Start Up's writer... I tend to believe there's more to come. I don't think it's gonna be that easy, that simple, and maybe that's why they are holding this love triangle for so long. If the ending proves to be that simple, it's gonna be a very weak screenplay indeed. I've been seeing some comments that they have been changing the end for 3 times already. I don't know if this is true coz they have already finished the shooting. And I don't know if the writer are so afraid of public reaction, it's not like it's her first time writing a drama. They chose to follow a path since the beginning, and any choice Dalmi makes in the end, the whole narrative will sustein it somehow.

I confess that after espisode 14 I was a bit frustrated as a HJP stan. But I know how to lose, and I'll have to accept any Dalmi's decision. I'm just rooting for HJP's happiness at all cost. But after seeing some comments, I started to reflect about all these plot holes, and found out there are still things to happen. I'm not taking any for granted anymore and I'm very curious about how they are gonna end this show, if in the easy or complex way. After this, I hope we find peace in dramaland again because these two ships are driving everyone crazy. 😊

#Kdrama #start up #start up tvn #suzy bae #nam joo hyuk #kim seon ho #han ji pyeong #nam dosan #seo dal mi #won in jae #myedits

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sinner-as-saint · 5 years

Text

Bad Reputation.

Mob! Seb x reader AU.

A/N: I was initially gonna do some cheesy ass, so-fluffy-you-could-die imagine. But then I was like, I have my thirsty, horny children waiting on me. So, here you go.

Run-through: You work as a bartender at one of the many bars owned by the biggest, most respected mob in the city; Sebastian Stan. And one night, things get…interesting.

Themes: Smut, mob! Seb, language, age gap

A/N (ii): I don’t know what time it is when you’re reading this, but Happy Birthday to our baby boy/ Romanian God Sebbie!!

You placed the cloth down, next to the beer glasses and sighed. The day had been tiring; consisting of countless clients, a few drunken fights which the security guards handled with ease, a few older men flirting with you.

And to top it all off, your boss; the owner of the bar you worked at, was pissed off when he came in and disappeared behind the door which led to the private/VIP area.

Why was he mad? You couldn’t quite tell. Then again, he was a mobster and his entire day revolved around barking orders at people and having to deal with the stupidity of those working with him. So, that probably explains the bad temper.

You never interacted much with Sebastian, he was rather quiet whenever he stopped by the counter for a pint of beer or on some more tough days; shots, before he went home.

He had everything; money, power, control over people, and he had earned enough respect in the city. Yet, it seemed as though he was lonely deep down.

Clearing your head of the thoughts of your boss, you glanced around one last time to make sure that everything was perfectly in place as you closed.

And you were about to pick your bag up and make your way out of the door, but a voice stopped you.

“Mind staying for a while longer, Y/N? I’m in terrible need of a drink,” your boss spoke up, stepping out of the VIP section.

He had a faint smirk on his face, and a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You smiled, nodded and got back to the other side of the counter; grabbing a large glass before he stopped you again.

“Beer won’t do it, I need something stronger,” he spoke as he approached and settled down on one of the stool.

He rested his hand on the counter and you noticed his bloodied and bruised knuckles. He took out a white handkerchief and wiped the blood off his hand, leaving behind a red stain on the white fabric.

You set the glass down and picked up two shot glasses and his favorite liquor. You poured both shots and pushed them towards him.

“Who was it today? The French guys?” you asked with a small smile; knowing perfectly well that he must have punched someone who didn’t obey, or agree to what he said.

It was a bad habit of his; among others.

Sebastian swallowed the first shot, then the second.

He chuckled right after, cherishing the feeling as the liquor burned down his throat.

“It was. They are…troublesome,” he answered, and watched you intently as you refilled the alcohol.

You noticed a shift in him. Not in his manner, but his voice.

He leaned against the counter and watched how you pushed the glasses towards him again. He smirked and pushed on of the glasses towards you.

You looked at it, then at him, questioning the situation.

“Oh come on, it’s my birthday. Celebrate with me,” he spoke with such an ease that it sent shivers down your spine.

His voice was suddenly deep and smooth. And the grin on his face made him look even more gorgeous than he already was.

You hesitated.

“Happy Birthday, but, I shouldn’t, Mr. Stan,”

“Why not?” he spoke, tilting his head to the side. The dimmed lights accentuated his features; he looked ravishing and lethal at the same time.

“Because you’re my boss. And I shouldn’t be drinking at work, let alone with you and I still have to walk home. I’m sorry sir,”

You knew he didn’t like that. He never liked it when people turned him down. He hated hearing ‘no’, and you knew that.

He chuckled again.

“It’ll be a secret between you and I, doll. Go on,” he persisted. And given his reputation, you didn’t want to argue further with the most well-known mob of the city.

You reluctantly held the glass and brought it to your lip, while Sebastian watched you with his mischievous, blue eyes.

You tilted your head back and swallowed the contents rapidly, frowning as the liquor burned your throat.

You placed the glass back down, in front of Sebastian and he smiled back.

“Happy Birthday to me,” he teased, winking at you; knowing he has won again.

He swallowed the other shot and looked up at you, his eyes shining in the dimmed lights. There was no one else in the bar, except for the two of you.

Sending a quick glance at clock, it read that it was nearly 11 p.m.

“You want anything else, sir?” you asked, seeing that he had finished his drink but was still sat at the counter.

Of course, he owned the place; he could do whatever he wanted in it.

An enticing look was seen on his face as he looked at you right after you questioned him. He was definitely not drunk yet, but he seemed more, lively.

“Yes, actually. I wanna know you better. Tell me, Y/N, why do you stick around here? Most women would run away from a place like this, the violence, the weapons, the…men, how do you handle it?,” he asked, and leaned forward on the counter.

His face was not far from yours, and you caught the hint of the alcohol in his breath. And you had to admit, he looked good from up close.

His blue eyes bore into your e/c ones.

You knew what he meant, the men who came in here were literal pigs; rich but downright barbaric.

“Well, the weapons and the violence doesn’t scare me. My dad got into a lot of fights when I was little, and I tended to his wounds, so the violence isn’t alien to me,”

His head shot up in interest as you spoke.

“As for the men, well, being a woman in a city like this one I just learnt how to live with it. No matter what I do, or where I work, they’re still gonna eye me like I’m a piece of meat. So, I might as well earn me some money while they do that,” you finished with a small smile.

Sebastian nodded, in appreciation of the answer he got.

Without another word said, he got off the stool and walked around the counter; making his way to the side where you stood. And soon, he stood right in front of you.

You didn’t have much resistance against alcohol, one shot was all it took to make you feel the buzz.

Sebastian stood right in front of you, and his hand reached out and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

He was so close to you now that each breathe he let out fanned your face. And his scent was almost irresistible. Strong and fresh, he smelt tempting.

“You’re very impressive, Y/N. And very pretty too,” he complimented you and for the first time, you didn’t have a proper reply to give him.

Thank you?

“You too!” you spoke almost too fast and your tone was too cheery. Shit.

You corrected yourself quickly.

“I mean, thank you. And you’re very impressive too,” you breathed in his scent. He smelt amazing. Jesus, does he always smell that good?

He chuckled. And took a step forward, causing you to take one back; resulting in you being pressed against the counter and his built frame.

He was quite the ladies’ man in the city. And you often wondered why he hadn’t been officially involved with one of the many beautiful women who always roamed around him.

“Can I touch you, doll? I’m just, gonna steal a kiss or two,” he whispered as he brought his face closer to yours. You smelt the alcohol in his breathe clearly now.

Your heartbeat rang in your ears, and his scent invaded your senses.

You giggled.

“I think you’ve had too many drinks, you need to go home, sir,” you couldn’t help the smile which formed on your face.

He smiled back.

“Come on, it’s my birthday. I deserve a kiss from the prettiest girl I know,” he pouted slightly, sticking his bottom lip out. And it made you laugh.

Sebastian Stan, The Sebastian Stan; the most respected mob boss of the city was standing in front of you, pouting, because you won’t kiss him.

Good lord, what is happening?

Your giggles were cut short as he placed his hands on either side of you, on the counter. He had you trapped.

“That’s quite an excuse, sir. But really, we shouldn’t,”

“Oh yeah? What’s a better excuse then? The fact that I know you watch me longingly every time I walk in?” he smirked.

He caught you.

You blushed. And didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t lying; you indeed watched him every day. To be honest, it was the best part of your day; watching him march in with all his glory. His expensive suits, and even more expensive cologne. He was perfect.

But he was also much older than you, a gap of 15 years between the two of you. And you were a mere bartender who worked for him, so, you always believed you had no chance.

Until now, apparently.

You were flustered, and he saw it. He saw how you blushed and how you hesitated to answer. You squirmed in embarrassment, yet once his lips touched yours; you melted in his touch.

His mouth moved against yours perfectly, his tongue slipped into your mouth swiftly and you tasted the alcohol you had just served him minutes ago.

Your hand flew around his neck and your lazily caressed the back of his head. His hands were on you; one at your waist and one slipping discretely under the black skirt you were wearing.

You moaned as soon as your felt the coldness from his rings rub against your inner thighs. Was it the alcohol, or the connection between you two, but you felt a tingly sensation all over your body when he pushed your underwear aside and lazily rubbed your wet folds.

He muffled any sounds you made by placing his mouth on top of yours, tugging at your bottom lip and earning another quiet mewl out of you.

You whimpered when he teased your clit, rubbing your bundle of nerves with his finger; coating it and spreading around your arousal.

Grinding against his hand subtly, you tried to chase your orgasm as quickly as you could but he prevented you from doing so.

You whined as he stopped his actions.

“Oh no, babygirl, I want you to come around my cock,” he whispered sinfully in your ear and slipped his hand from under your skirt and turned you around so your back was pressed up against his torso.

You gripped the counter as he grabbed your skirt on either side and pulled it down until it pooled around your ankles.

You jumped when he pinched your ass. And the tingly sensation intensified as you heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

You waited for his cock to bury itself into you, but what you felt against your dripping core was his skilled tongue.

Warm and wet against your heat; he ate you out from behind.

You shuddered and moaned out loud, his name escaping your lips like a mantra.

You felt his face pressed against your ass; his beard scratching your sensitive skin as he pulled your ass cheeks apart and latched his mouth onto your core.

His fingers lightly rubbed your clit as his tongue poked your tight entrance. Your eyes rolled back and your face lowered until your forehead touched the cold surface of the counter.

A quiet mewl escaped your lips as you heard the wet sounds which erupted from your unholy doings. You couldn’t see him, but you were sure he looked enticing with his plump, pink lips on your wet heat; you arousal dripping down his chin and coating his beard and lips as he devoured you.

There was a hunger in him, seen through his actions. And your face burned in embarrassment as you thought about how intimately he was touching you.

You whined as you felt the pressure building again.

Yet, as your moans got more and more high pitched, he lifted his mouth off you. He placed wet kissed on your lower back and lightly smacked your ass cheek.

Your body trembled. Your knees felt weak, and of it weren’t for the counter, you were sure you’d be a hot mess on the floor.

Anticipation burned bright in your gut and your core throbbed due to lack of attention from him.

“Tell me if I hurt you, babygirl. Don’t be too loud,” he whispered against the shell of your ear before placing his hand on your shoulder and urging you to bend over the counter.

Your heart raced as you did.

This was new for you. And it was exciting.

You felt his tip press against your folds, slowly rubbing up and down; parting the lips at your entrance. He moaned under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you.

Your grip on the counter grew tighter as you steadied yourself for his thrust.

Slowly, he filled you up; stretching you and had you whimpering under him.

“F-fuck, you feel so good, doll,” his voice cracked as he moaned out how good you felt. And the fire inside you intensified.

You couldn’t form proper words as he started rocking into you. Slowly, then building up his pace.

You felt all of him; the raw him. And you shamelessly liked it.

Each time he filled you up entirely, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot, and you moaned out loud each time he did so.

Your mind was hazy, by the bit of liquor in your system, and him slamming into you. His thrust was animalistic, and rough. Each time he slammed into you, your front crashed against the counter, achingly. But the pleasure his body brought you made up for that.

His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and pressed your face further into the counter. You whimpered as his pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he did so.

The sounds of your skin slapping against one another was downright obscene, and the grunts leaving his mouth was even more sinful.

You couldn’t see him, yet you believed he looked absolutely divine with his head thrown back, eyes closed, his lips parted as occasional groans escaped his lips.

He must be quite the sight.

You moaned as he hit a sensitive spot, and he pinched your ass as you did. He seemed to be rather enjoying himself, toying with your body and using you however he liked. And not even a fiber of your body hated that – quite the contrary actually.

You felt a familiar warmth washing over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer.

And when your walls clenched around him, Sebastian knew you were close as well.

“You gonna come for me, doll? Go ahead, come around my cock babygirl,” he cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire.

It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him; you came, hard.

He did too. With a few strokes against your walls, he came right after you.

His warm load shooting inside you, leaving behind his presence as your body shook against the counter.

Carefully, he pulled out. And smiled sinisterly as he watched how his cum trickled out of you and past your folds. He adjusted his pants and zipped it up.

Satisfied, he pulled your underwear up, then your skirt, and finally; he pulled you up against him.

Your back was still against his torso, and his arms were around you. Unable to trust your own body, your hands gripped the counter still.

He nuzzled his face into your neck, kissed your skin and moved his lips to your ear.

“Thanks for the birthday present, doll,” he whispered teasingly in your ear. And you couldn’t help the blush, nor the smile which appeared on your face.

Let’s say, that night was quite unforgettable.

---

The next day, evening rather, you were back at work. With each step you took, each movement – you felt him.

You felt the soreness in between your legs, and the bruises on the sides of your hips where he had held you. The all the marks he left behind on your; as a reminder of his presence.

You sighed for the hundredth time that night and served your client anyway.

Each time you wiped the counter with the dark red cloth, you thought of him. How he had railed you against it, how he had pressed your face into it as he pounded into you from behind, and how he had whispered sinful things, and called you names which still made you dizzy when you think about it.

As if to tease you more, just as you thought of him; he walked in through the doors. Looking as expensive as always, Sebastian looked around.

But before his eyes met yours, you looked elsewhere.

How could you face him?

All the beautiful women who associated themselves with Sebastian earned titles. Not good ones either. Sebastian was quite a player, and stories of his promiscuity could be heard occasionally.

Spending a steamy night with the mob boss earned one a bad reputation. And now you did too. And although no one knew about it, you couldn’t help but feel as though you had been unprofessional – given you had slept with your boss.

You tried to seem busy, as you picked up clean glasses, wiped them and placed them back to where they initially were.

“Something bothering you, little one? Hate seeing pretty girls like you sulking,” commented a man who was sat the counter.

That damned counter…

He looked like he was an important persona, and you couldn’t be rude.

As much as you wanted to flip him off and tell him to kindly stay out of your business, your job required you to smile even when you received vulgar comments. After all, you worked for The Sebastian Stan, any mistake or misbehavior on your part would result as a blemish on his image.

“I’m alright, sir. Nothing to worry about. Enjoy your evening,” you replied, fake smiling politely as you kept pretending as of you were busy.

Through your peripheral vision, you noticed that Sebastian stood still in the middle of his busy bar. People around you were rather loud, so you wondered if he heard any of the interaction between you and the man.

You didn’t want him to. You didn’t want him to come up to you, you couldn’t look at him. Was it shame, embarrassment, or the fact that you liked how he had fucked you like he owned you?

You didn’t know. All you knew is that you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Probably would’ve enjoyed it better if you came home with me tonight. You’re a pretty thing, you know that? Girls like you don’t belong to places like these,” he spoke and sipped on his gin and tonic.

Good lord. Here we go again…

You opened your mouth to politely tell him off but before you could, another voice intervened.

“Careful there, Stark. I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Sebastian spoke, his voice smooth and almost melodic.

As soon as he spoke, you immediately thought of how he had been moaning while he was pounding into you the previous night.

And your head lowered as your face flushed again. You still couldn’t look at him.

The man named ‘Stark’ laughed and turned to face Sebastian, then you felt as though he looked at you again. Both their stared burning on your skin.

You felt exposed as your eyes flicked to that damned counter again.

“Why so? Is this one taken or something?” Stark spoke in a mocking voice; testing Sebastian’s patience.

Stark had a smug look on his face, which was quickly wiped off as soon as Sebastian spoke.

“She is. She’s mine,” his words caused you to finally look up at him. Stark was surprised, he scoffed and left.

Sebastian’s blue eyes sparkled as they looked into yours. A pleasant smirk on his gorgeous face as he looked at you intently.

Not a word was spoken, yet a promise was made.

Bad reputation or not, you had no problem with being his.

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xavierhodgson · 3 years

Text

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crimson-snowfall · 4 years

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[Birthday Fic, NSFW] Fiery

Hello everyone, so I wasn’t really planning on writing a birthday fic for Leonardo since I’m not that much of Leo stan, but since @mikotomizuki asked me for a Leo smangst (lol kinda hard to resist this hoe) and I just so happened to be in the mood when she asked me... this happened. I told her it’s just gonna be short since it was totally unplanned so I don’t know how the fuck I ended up writing ~1.8k words (which is definitely longer than my average fics)

Genre: Smangst (Smut + Angst)

Word Count: 1840

Warnings/Tags: profanity, a little bit of femdom i guess, choking, nipple stimulation, rough sex, vaginal sex, 3rd person POV

It had been a few decades since Leonardo moved out of Le Comte's mansion, and the main reason behind this sudden decision is currently pinning him down on the floor, pressing the blunt edge of a dagger against his neck. The woman wore a devilish grin as she straddled him beneath her, on the other hand the pureblood in question simply had a rather entertained smile on his lips.

"Feisty as ever, I see." Leonardo knocked the dagger of Arthemis' hands, earning himself a look of absolute displeasure.

"Yeah, and you're as bland as ever," Artemis sneered as she reached for the memento of her days as a vampire hunter, sheathing it back on its holster, before finishing off with what Leonardo has come to consider the woman's choice of endearment for him, "...you filthy pureblood."

Artemis got off of him, slamming the door on his face before he could even get on his feet. He found her lounging comfortably on the couch when he came in, but just as when he was about to take the vacant spot next to her, she laid down and deliberately took up as much space as her little form could cover. Leonardo chuckled in amusement before settling down on the armrest on one end of the couch.

"You know cara mia, I wouldn't mind getting a welcome home kiss every now and then." Naturally, his suggestion was met with immediate repudiation.

"Never. Also, watch those hands or I'll cut them off," Artemis growled, and Leonardo's hands just momentarily paused in their tracks. After briefly gauging her mood, his hands promptly resumed their northbound expedition, his calloused fingers ticklish against her soft legs.

His grumpy lover glared daggers at him, and just as when his prying hands were about to reach her thighs, she reluctantly readjusted herself on the couch. Leonardo wasted no time occupying the now vacant spot, before draping his arms over her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"Tch. Ridiculous how you ask me why I keep calling you a filthy pureblood when you always play dirty." She may be stiff in his embrace, but at least she wasn't downright turning him away.

"I haven't seen you in a week, cara mia. How is wanting a little bit of your love and attention considered playing dirty?"

Artemis rolled her eyes. "Yeah. A week. Immortality must be really tough. Too bad not even we vampire hunters could put an end to your eternal thirst."

Leonardo leaned down to press a kiss on his grumpy lover's cheeks. "Well, I do agree with you that it's rather unfortunate. However, I don't think I'll ever want to have any blood other than yours, and you know what? Maybe I can die too."

This time, Artemis gave her an incredulous look while wiping the spot on her cheeks that he had just kissed. "You know what? I hate you. You've got guts implying you can die when even the most surefire extermination methods don’t work on you.”

Leonardo simply shrugged off her tirade, before capturing her lips in a devouring kiss. She hates him, she says, but if anything, it didn't really take long for it to be evident that she probably didn't mean a single thing she said with how decisively she turned the tides as their tongues battled for dominance. The forsaken vampire hunter has always been a good kisser– probably the only woman in existence that can leave Leonardo gasping for his breath.

The fact that the vampire hunters sent her after him was likely their way of forcing her into her retirement. The average lifespan of a vampire hunter lasts for a couple of centuries, and Artemis has lived way past her retirement age. So one day, the vampire hunters gave her an impossible mission: to discover the method on how purebloods can be exterminated, and should she fail to bring the corpse of one in the span of a year, then she is to lose her honor as a vampire hunter and exit the extermination scene.

There are still times when Leonardo genuinely wonders if Artemis is still holding his 'non-killability' against him, when he would gladly drop dead for her if that's what would make her happy. Sure, it may not be fair on him, but when has he ever cared about those kinds of things? Besides, nothing can be more unfair than being subject to the cruel fate of being unable to die.

Leonardo's hands had found their way to massage Artemis' inner thigh as she busied herself suffocating him with the ferocity of their kiss. Unfortunately, before he could even make an attempt to venture deeper, he found himself once again pinned down, only this time against the couch and not on their doorstep.

"Hey bloodsucker," Artemis arrogantly called him out, "do you want me to love you?" Or so she asks, but with how fast the buttons on his shirt is flying off, Leonardo just knew that the question was purely rhetorical.

"Yes," Leo purred out, "love me into oblivion, cara mia."

"As you wish, my filthy pureblood." Perhaps it's the natural athleticism of vampire hunters, but it never fails to amaze Leonardo just how fast Artemis could strip both of them of their clothes.

Rubbing her wetness against his massive length, she began lapping up every inch of skin on his torso, leaving behind a trail of love marks where she felt like it. She'd always loved giving his nipples the special attention it craves, and this time was no different– she flicked it over and over again with her little tongue while staring him down, satisfying the remnants of her predatory nature with the vulnerable look on her pureblood's face.

"Are you trying to milk me, cara mia?" Leo asked breathlessly as he reached out to set aside stray locks of her hair away from her face, before traveling down to seize her breasts, twirling her nipples in reciprocation of her gesture.

"Just shut up and enjoy it." With those words, Leonardo felt his cock slide up into Artemis' dripping wet core, a gasp of pleasure escaping her lips as it stretched her insides. Her hands slowly made their way to perfectly curl around his neck as she rode him out, sending him into a distinctive haze of pleasure.

"Fuck," Leonardo groaned as he watched his cock fuck her sweet pussy, "you're as tight as ever, cara mia." Leonardo squeezed her ass in his enrapturement, and the hands wrapped around his neck tightened their old on him in response.

"And you're as lewd and as filthy as ever," Artemis mewled out as she devoured every bit of Leonardo's salacious expression, increasing her pace with each groan of pleasure ripping through the pureblood's throat.

Her pace morphed into a frenzied one in no time, and she kept on wildly bouncing up and down his deliciously massive cock until she was completely taken over by the violent waves of her throbbing orgasm, her body convulsing as she soaked him with her sweet release.

Leonardo didn't gave her any chance to fall limp on top of him however, and in the blink of an eye Artemis was on her knees as her lover viciously pounded her from behind. Curses immediately filled the room as she lashed out on him over her loss of control, and smashing his lover until all the curses were replaced by nothing but his name has become Leonardo's greatest self-indulgence in the recent decades.

Being the prideful woman she is, she doesn't give in so easily, and that's exactly what makes it even more satisfying for Leonardo. The pureblood would've made her orgasm several times and she would've been a disheveled mess by the time she can no longer resist the urge to scream out his name, chanting it over and over again as though it were some prayer.

"Leonardo, please...!"

"Please what, cara mia?" Leonardo asked with a triumphant smirk as he slowly pulled out, before thrusting all the way back in with a ferocious intensity, his name escaping her lips once more in a lewd moan.

"F-fill me up, Leonardo. I want y-your filthy pureblood c-cum inside me," she cried out desperately, saying it just loud enough as to not have him make her repeat those words again.

"Now that's a good girl," Leonardo leaned forward to kiss her roughly, and complying with her wishes, he finally stopped holding back. He fucked her with with an unforgiving intensity until his hot, white release filled her up as they came together, before his body came crashing down on her.

Once she has recovered from their orgasm, she began complaining over his weight on her. "Hey bloodsucker, are you trying to kill me? You're crushing me down here."

With a low chuckle, Leonardo turned them over so that she's resting her head on top of his chest. "Better?"

"No," she denies even as she snuggles closer up against him, one hand pulling hardly on his cheeks, "you're an old geezer and you stink like one."

"Really now," Leonardo took her hand and began licking her wrists, not taking his eyes off of hers as his tongue trailed over her pulse, as though waiting for her permission.

"Just do it, really," she averted her eyes to hide her embarrassment and bit back the sound that threatened to escape her lips as he bit her down, the pleasure washing over her more than enough proof for her that she could no longer return to being a vampire hunter even if she wanted to.

After having his fill of her, Leonardo pulled her up for a loving kiss– the only one of its kind that she would always return with the slightest hints of the love she would never admit.

"I love you, cara mia," Leonardo whispered softly as his golden eyes betrayed just how much he had been longing to hear her give voice to the feelings he's certain that existed as well– but Artemis never would.

For in the same way her blood could not kill him, his bite could not turn her into a vampire– and despite their longevity, the lifespan of even the most resilient vampire hunter remains much shorter of that an average lesser vampire.

So Artemis would rather take those feelings to her grave than bind Leonardo's poor undying self with words of love.

"Too bad I'm way above mistaking my debauched, carnal desires for mushy feelings of love, my filthy pureblood," Artemis lied with a weary smile as her exhaustion finally took a toll on her, and it didn't really take much time for her to doze off peacefully on his chest.

Leonardo watched her with lonely smile on his face, combing his fingers through her messy hair, "Then I'll try my best not to yearn for those words," he murmured before allowing the comforting embrace of sleep to take him to the land of dreams.

And in his dreams, his beloved Artemis would openly profess her love for him.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen series #ikevamp leo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikemen fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikemen fanficition #birthday fic

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orangeoctopi7 · 4 years

Text

A Time for Every Purpose

: Part 1 : Part 2 :

Mabel stormed up the stairs, tears streaming down her face. It seemed like every time she tried to take her mind off her troubles, every time she tried to cheer up, something came along and made things more complicated. Had it really only been two days ago that she’d been excited about turning 13 and planning their birthday party? Now she had much bigger concerns, like Bill threatening her family, and Ford extending the apprenticeship offer to Dipper and her.

What with the tears in her eyes and the thoughts swirling around in her head, Mabel didn’t see her brother coming, and collided with him as she scurried up the stairs.

“Oh, Mabel, have you seen Great Uncle Ford this morning? I need to ask him…” Dipper trailed off when he realized his sister was trying to hold back tears. “What’s wrong? Did Bill come back? Is someone hurt!?”

Mabel shook her head, wiping her face on the sleeve of her pajama shirt she still hadn’t changed out of.

“I did see Grunkle Ford this morning. He told me I could stay in Gravity Falls too, if I wanted.”

Dipper’s face lit up. Sure, he’d have to completely redo his pros and cons list now, but this took care of the biggest negative on it! “That’s great!” But then he remembered she’d come up here in tears. “...isn’t it?”

“No!” Mabel cried, trying not to break down again. “Now I have to choose between staying here with you in Gravity Falls or going home to mom and dad!”

“Well, now you know how I feel.” Dipper pointed out. “Isn’t this what you wanted, though? This way you don’t have to leave Gravity Falls behind. You get more time with your friends, a little more summer.”

“Maybe. I dunno.” Mabel sighed and sat down on the steps, very close to pulling herself back into sweater town. “That was mostly just wistful thinking because I was afraid that everything was gonna change. I didn’t think it would actually become reality!”

“Hey, I get it. This is a really big, scary decision.” Dipper sat down beside her. “But you don’t have to make it alone. I can help you make a Pros and Cons list if you want.”

Mabel turned to look at her brother. “Dipper, I know last night you said we had to talk about this when we were calm and not super emotional, but I don’t know if I’m ever gonna not be super emotional about this whole mess!”

“Well, maybe making a list will help.”

The colorful girl scrunched up her face. List making was more her brother’s thing, but maybe it would help for her to get on his level for a bit.

“Ok. As long as I get to use glitter gel pens to write it.”

* * *

Stanford stood in the empty kitchen, the phone in his hand blaring a dull dial tone now that Debbs had hung up. It slipped out of his hand and bounced against the counter door on its curly cord. The old inventor was reeling. What had just happened? True, he probably should have anticipated at least a little apprehension from the kids’ mother, but surely, after explaining the advantages and benefits of his apprenticeship, any parent would have been happy to give their children the opportunity to learn at the feet of an accomplished scientist? And not just any scientist, but a family member who loved and cared dearly for those kids! Instead, she’d acted like he was threatening to kidnap them!

Oh you fool, you’ve done it again. The negative part of Ford’s brain chided him.

The old researcher pushed the thought to the back of his mind, instead trying to justify his own reasoning. It was a pattern he’d seen again and again throughout his life. People left. It always happened sooner or later. Sometimes because they found someone or something more important. Sometimes because they realized the relationship was bad for them. Whatever the case, the outcome was always the same. Deborah was simply trying to delay the inevitable.

“Sooner or later”, yes, and you’re asking the children to leave too soon. That’s what Stanley was trying to tell you, but of course you didn’t listen.

“No. No, I’m not the one being unreasonable here…” He muttered to himself.

Wasn’t he? Stan, Mabel, Debbs, they’d all acted as though Ford’s desire to keep the children here was wrong. Even Dipper had been unsure about it.

But you wouldn’t listen to any of them. You’ve only ever hear what you want to hear. Just like with Fiddleford, just like with Bill!

Perhaps the pattern of people leaving didn’t apply to everyone. Only to him.

“What is wrong with me?” He groaned as he slid down to sit on the floor.

What’s wrong with you? You’re disgusting! Of course no one wants you! The freakish hands are only the tip of the iceberg. You push away anyone with the misfortune to actually get close enough to care about you, but not without doing some serious damage first. Because you don’t understand people and their emotions and relationships. You don’t even understand your own species.

Ford dug his fingers into his hair and closed his eyes tight, trying to steady his breathing. It was true! That was why he’d felt so at home in Gravity Falls, studying supernatural beings. That was how he’d survived thirty years in the multiverse, hopping from one alien society to the next.

The only ones who’ve ever really wanted you just wanted to use you. Bill, the Dean at Backupsmore, your father… Stan…

Stan… Ford wasn’t sure if he believed that anymore. Surely his brother wouldn’t have spent thirty years trying to fix the portal just to use Ford.

No, he was just fine using your identity to make a cozy little life for himself in Gravity Falls while you were gone.

That just raised further questions, though. Stan had a stable life here. He had to have known Ford’s return would mean giving up the identity he’d been living under for thirty years. Even if Stan hadn’t expected his brother to insist he shut his phony business down, he at least had to have known his livelihood would be endangered. Wouldn’t it have been easier not to risk it all and just leave Ford to his fate? The only possible explanation was that Stan cared enough, or at least felt guilty enough, to motivate him to continue trying for thirty years.

Still, as noble as Stan’s intentions may have been, he still put the whole world, no, the whole universe, in danger by reactivating the portal. How could he have ever expected Ford to be ok with that?

A small part of Ford couldn’t help but wonder if he would have done the same, had their roles been reversed.

Then of course, there was Stan’s horrible timing. Ford had been this close to destroying Bill, to finally fixing his mistakes, when he was whisked back to Gravity Falls. It seemed like every time Ford got close to making a decisive strike against Bill, something went wrong. He only had himself to blame for the glue situation, but if Stan hadn’t...

It wasn’t like he had known.

He still shouldn’t have done it. It was far too dangerous.

If Stan hadn’t brought him back, he never would have met Dipper and Mabel.

Stan had put the children in danger on top of everything else.

If it hadn’t happened when it did, Ford would have died trying to take Bill down with him.

Ford had known the risks and had been prepared to make whatever sacrifice was necessary to bring Bill down. Stan had ruined his chance… hadn’t he?

You heard what Bill said. He hates you. Why can’t you just hate him back?

Bill always lies.

There was an abundance of evidence that Stan didn’t hate him. That he actually cared quite a lot.

Ford curled in on himself, the warring thoughts swirling in his head blocking out the rest of the world around him. He didn’t hear his brother coming until the old conman appeared in the doorway, eyes blazing with fury.

“Ford!” Stan shouted, his voice charged with anger.

He hates you.

Ford’s fight or flight instincts took over, and this time they favored flight. He had to get out of there. He darted out of the room as fast as he could.

* * *

Dipper was glad that Mabel had accepted his help to put together her own Pros and Cons list. Not only was it helping him redo his list, she also came up with several negative points he hadn’t considered, like the fact that he’d be leaving behind his friends back at Piedmont Junior High. While Mabel definitely had more friends at school, there were still a couple of classmates that Dipper would consider his friends, although he wasn’t nearly as close with them as he had become with Soos and Wendy.

Besides, he did kinda feel like he’d been neglecting Mabel over the past couple of days. He was just trying to figure all of this out, the rift, Ford’s apprenticeship, and Bill. Trying to comfort Mabel on top of all that just seemed like too much. Once he had the time to sit down and organize his thoughts, to really think things out, it became much less overwhelming. He trusted his Great Uncle to deal with the rift and Bill for now, and he was figuring out the apprenticeship thing.

It was interesting to see Mabel’s thought process as she put together her own list. She liked Dipper’s point value system, but they both scored the same things very differently. She thought getting to explore the caves behind the falls was only worth three points, tops, and she classified continuing to work at the Mystery Shack as a pro, not a con.

Dipper decided not to share his doubts on whether Ford would allow Stan to continue running the Shack out of his home. Mabel already had enough on her mind.

"So, once you finish your list, you add up the points on both sides and whichever has the most points wins." Dipper explained.

"How do you know when it's finished?"

Dipper shrugged. “Just… whenever you can’t think of any more pros or cons, I guess.”

“But what if I forget something important?”

“Well, I mean, it can’t be that important if you forgot it.”

Mabel sighed and started adding up her totals. Dipper did the same. Pros won out on both lists, although Mabel’s was by a slimmer margin. The boy laughed excitedly and beamed at his sister. She gulped. Despite what the numbers said, this still didn’t sit right with her.

“So we’ll both stay in Gravity Falls, together!” Dipper exclaimed. “I can’t believe it, this is like a dream come true!”

Mabel gasped. “Wait, that’s it!”

“What?”

“I think I finally figured out why I feel so wrong about this apprenticeship thing!” Mabel grabbed her brother by the shoulders. “You said you can’t believe it! Why?”

Dipper’s smile faltered. “Mabel, it’s just a figure of speech…”

“Yeah, but you used it now for a reason. Why?”

“Because…” Dipper stopped and thought about it for a moment. “Because if you’d told me two months ago that I was going to stay in Gravity Falls and work with the Author of the Journals, and that he was a long-lost relative, I’d think you were crazy.”

“Exactly. And I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Gravity Falls. I wanted more time with my friends.” Mabel agreed. “You said it yourself. Taking Grunkle Ford’s offer is a dream come true. Because staying in Gravity Falls is like living in a dream, or a fairy tale!”

“...What are you getting at here?” Dipper asked apprehensively.

“If we stay here, that’s not preparing us for the real world! We need to grow up in the real world first!”

“Are you implying that Gravity Falls isn’t real? That we’ve just dreamed up this whole summer?” Dipper asked incredulously.

“No, of course not!” Mabel scoffed. “Sorry, maybe I’m not explaining this very well. Obviously, Gravity Falls is real. We’ve got real family and real friends here. And we’ve both grown up a lot over this past summer here. But would we keep on growing if we just stayed here all the time? Would we learn the things we need to grow up if we stay in a place where most of the grown-ups still act like kids? This is the kind of place where a nine-year-old can claim to be a child psychic and everyone believes him. This is the kind of place where the local kooky hobo is a genius inventor who builds death robots. This is the kind of place where a long-lost Grunkle can come out of a mysterious portal. This is the kind of place where a sad journalist like Toby Determined can have his own newspaper. Does that sound like the real world to you?”

Dipper grimaced. “Yeah, I guess I see your point. But… I thought you didn’t want to grow up?”

Mabel frowned and rubbed her arm sheepishly. “You’re right, I don’t want to…” She then looked up with renewed determination in her eyes. “But I know that I need to.”

The boy gave his sister a proud smile “You’re a lot more mature than most people give you credit for.”

“Thanks, Dip.”

“But…” His face fell. “I do feel like there’s so much more to learn about Gravity Falls… and I don’t want to disappoint Great Uncle Ford. I know he’d really love us to stay. I get the feeling he’s really lonely. The apprenticeship is everything I’ve wanted all summer… how can I just walk away from it?”

Mabel patted her brother on the shoulder. “Well, even if it’s not the right time to stay in Gravity Falls now, maybe someday when we are a little more grown up, we could move out here all year. So don’t think of it as walking away. Just think of it as saying ‘Not now’. And don’t worry about Grunkle Ford. He’s our family and he loves us! I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Dipper sighed and nodded. “I hope you’re right. Ever since Ford offered me the apprenticeship, I haven’t felt ready. He said I shouldn’t worry, because I’ve already accomplished so much, but I guess it’s not really about doubting my own abilities. It’s just not the right time in my life.”

“Guess we should go tell him, then, huh?”

“Oh yeah!” Dipper smacked his head. “I was heading downstairs to ask him to help Wendy with Bill-proofing her house. Maybe we can talk to him about it after that?”

Mabel nodded. “Yeah, making sure Wendy and her family are safe is more important. And it’s like Grunkle Ford keeps saying, we’ve got all week!”

* * *

After leaving Soos to look after the giftshop, Stan made a beeline for the kitchen where he knew his brother had been using the phone just moments ago. That nerd was about to get the talking-to of his life!

“Ford!” Stan called as he stormed down the hall. No response.

He pushed the door open brusquely. The kitchen appeared empty, and the phone was hanging off its hook.

“Ford?” He called again. Suddenly, a figure shot out from behind the table. Stan barely had time to register that it was his brother before Ford dashed out of the room. What the heck had he been doing hiding practically under the table?

“Oh no, you’re not gettin’ off that easy!” Stan grumbled under his breath as he followed his brother. Sure, he wasn’t as fast as Ford, but the nerd had scrambled away so frantically that it wasn’t hard to follow his trail.

Unsurprisingly, the string of jostled furniture and scuffed floors led straight to Ford’s room. Also unsurprisingly, the door was locked. Stan rolled his eyes and slid a bobby pin out of his sleeve. What was even the point of locking a door that was so easy to pick?

Stan’s frustration with his brother evaporated as soon as he opened the door and got a good look. Ford was sitting in the corner of the sectional couch, curled up on himself. It wasn’t too far off from Mabel’s “Sweater Town”. The old researcher’s breaths came in short, shallow gasps, and he was eyeing his brother with the sort of caution a normal person would give an angry moose.

Was Ford… having a panic attack?

“Hey…” Stan said softly, approaching his brother with caution. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Ford took a deep breath, and Stan could practically see his brother bottling up his emotions as the old nerd’s face became blank.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong.” Ford said stoicly.

“Sure. And you bolted out of the kitchen just now because you saw a spider.”

Ford's blank expression flickered for a moment as annoyance crept in. "You startled me."

"Obviously." Stan rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I called Debbs back after she hung up on you."

"You were eavesdropping on me?" Ford accused coldly.

"Yeah, and it's a good thing too! I managed to smooth things over with her so the kids can still come back here next year, and you're still allowed to spend time with them!"

Ford didn't reply. He just kept staring straight ahead, stoney-faced.

"She just wanted me to have a talk with you. About you and the kids."

“She doesn’t have to worry. I doubt either of the children will want to spend time with me once they hear about this.”

Stan scoffed. “This isn’t gonna make the kids wanna stop spendin’ time with you, not by a long shot.”

“Perhaps not.” Ford agreed. “They’re still children, quick to forgive and forget. I’ll have to separate myself from them for their own good.”

“Wait, what?”

“Your original assessment was correct. I need to stay away from the kids. If not to protect them from the physical danger that comes with my line of work, then to protect them from the emotional danger of growing attached to a damaged man who doesn’t understand the simplest of human interactions.” He explained in a detached tone.

"Ohno you don't!" Stan retorted. "I didn't just stick my neck out for you, just so you could push the kids away! Those kids love your guts, and it'd hurt 'em a lot more if you just suddenly cut them off!"

"This is exactly what I'm talking about." Ford said clinically, as though he was explaining the problem with one of his experiments and not his own insecurities. "I have no understanding of the thoughts and feelings of others. The fact that you had to talk their mother into allowing me to continue spending time with the children confirms it.”

Stan heaved a sigh. "You still don't really understand why Debbs said no, do you?"

"I understand perfectly."

"I don't think you do." The old conman shook his head. "It's like I keep telling you, they're just kids. They still need their mom, and she still needs them."

"Yes, you were right and I didn't listen to you. Just one of many signs that I'm unable to properly interact with other human beings."

"I'm not finished! The thing you're not getting is just because you can't wedge your way into their parents' place, doesn't mean you can't be in the kids' lives at all! You're still a part of this family."

"And yet Deborah took my offer as a threat."

"Debbs doesn't know you from Adam, Ford! Of course she freaked out! I couldn’t explain the whole situation to her, but I did tell her those kids are the best thing that’s happened to you in 30 years.”

Ford couldn’t deny Stan’s statement. “I can’t do it again!” His prior panic finally burst out of its bottles. “I can’t stand to hurt another person I care about because I don’t even realize what I’m doing wrong until it’s too late! And I don’t even listen when someone tries to explain it to me!” His flare of anger died down, and he curled back in on himself again. “What is wrong with me?” He moaned.

Stan cautiously took a seat on the other end of the couch. “Nothin’s wrong with you.”

The old researcher scoffed. “A lifetime of my experience says otherwise.”

“Look, just because you’re not good with people doesn’t mean something’s wrong with you. Not everyone’s a people person.”

“This goes far beyond not being a people person. I’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever come into contact with.”

“Wow, exaggeration much?”

“How can you joke about this when you’re one of the people I’ve hurt the most!?”

The two brothers froze as Ford’s words hung in the air. Stan was at a loss. Since when did Ford feel like he hurt Stan instead of the other way around?

“See, you can’t even deny it.” Ford continued when Stan didn’t have a response. “It’s just eas-- It’s just safer if I just stay out of everyone’s lives.”

“You can’t just cut yourself off from the world, genius.” The old conman finally found his words again. “You’re the one who was sayin’ you don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

“...I don’t want anyone else to get hurt either.”

Stan paused as he tried to think of how to handle this. “We still gotta stop Bill, right? That’s not something you can do alone.”

“I’ve been doing it alone for thirty years.”

“Yeah, and that’s worked real well, hasn’t it?”

“I was about to end him!” Ford shouted. “I was seconds away from taking the shot, when you opened the portal again and whisked me away!”

“...Oh.” Stan squeaked. He didn’t know how else to respond to that. So he just moved on with the conversation. “Listen, even you’ve gotta admit, you’ve had more success with those kids' help. Dipper helped you get that alien stuff you needed. Mabel pointed out the glue problem you never even realized. If we’re gonna take down this Bill guy, your best bet is to work with us, whether you like it or not. And yeah, maybe it’s risky, but isn’t it riskier to just sit around waitin’ for Bill to make his move?”

Ford just stared coldly back at his brother. “You’re not going to apologize?”

Stan rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna apologize for saving your life, no.”

The old researcher frowned and furrowed his brow, but he didn’t seem surprised by Stan’s response. He sat there thinking for a few moments before finally speaking again.

“I can see the logic in needing to work together to stop Bill. The children have proven to be incredibly resourceful in that department. And in less than a week, they’ll be returning to California. I suppose it won’t matter after that.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “For cryin’ out loud, they’re just one state over, not on a different planet. All those arguments you were makin’ about the kids still bein’ able to stay in touch over the computer? That applies to you too, genius. You can even drive down and visit if you want.”

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what’s best for Dipper and Mabel.”

“Heh, well, good to see we’re finally on the same page there at least. But I’m tellin’ ya, being their mad-scientist uncle is what’s best for them. And what’s best for you too.”

Ford was torn. He wanted to believe Stan’s words, but it was hard to ignore that negative part of his brain, telling him that Stan was a liar, and digging up all the times he had hurt people before. He pushed it to the back of his head for now. Better to focus on stopping Bill and protecting the rift. Speaking of which….

“If we’re both here, who’s guarding the lab entrance!?”

“Relax, I left Soos to keep an eye on things.”

Stan’s reassurance was immediately undermined by the sound of a fight breaking out in the giftshop.

* * *

“Hey Soos, you seen Stan anywhere?” Wendy asked as she reentered the gift shop.

Soos was clearing out the old inventory. After Mr. Pines’ Mystery Science Brother came in and asked Wendy questions about her dream, it had been a quiet day at the Mystery Shack.

“He was here a minute ago, but he said he had to have another talk with his brother.”

Wendy rolled her eyes. “Of course. Well, I’m just gonna take off then. I gotta take care of some stuff. Let him know I decided to take the day off after all if you see him.”

“You got it, dude.” He assured her as she left.

Soos had been wanting a word with his boss himself, but whenever the handyman was about to ask Mr. Pines a question, Mr. Mystery was suddenly busy, giving a tour for just two people, yelling at his brother, or listening in on an important phone call.

It was clear that Mr. Pines was hiding something, and not the usual somethings Mr. Pines would hide, like incriminating evidence or suggestion cards. No, Soos got the impression that Mr. Pines was hiding something specifically from him. It wasn’t all that strange for Stan to avoid talking about anything that even remotely resembled feelings. But it was strange for Stan to avoid talking about what they were going to do for the off season. And even stranger for him to refuse free labor. True, there was a bunch of major drama going down in the Pines family right now, but it wasn’t like Mr. Pines to let it affect how he ran his business.

“The Mystery Shack has needed to be rebuilt like four times in the last two months. Maybe Stan’s just worried because all this reconstruction is costing too much money.” Soos reasoned to himself as he worked alone in the giftshop. But he didn’t quite believe himself.

The bell over the giftshop door jingled, distracting Soos from his thoughts. He quickly ran to the cash register, ready to serve another customer. “Welcome to the Mystery Shack dude!”

“Hello.” A short man with a grotesque face and a tiny 1930’s style reporter’s hat replied.

“Oh, hey Toby! I see you got away from that griffin!”

“I was indigestible!” Toby Determined said as if he was proudly proclaiming he got a new haircut.

“That’s cool. What brings you here?”

“I’m here to interview you, actually!” the reporter explained. “Rumor has it that Mr. Mystery has a long lost twin, and you’re the man with the inside scoop!”

“I mean, it’s kinda supposed to be a secret.” Soos hesitated. “I’ve only told Wendy, and my abuelita, and the mailman, and everyone who was at Greasy's Diner during the lunch rush last Saturday…”

“You’d get to be on the front page of the Gravity Falls Gossiper!” Toby enticed in a sing-song voice, holding up today’s issue for good measure.

“I’ll do it!” Soos declared.

“Perfect! Now, to start off, I’ll need to take your photo!”

“Oh hey, when’d you get a real camera?” Soos asked as Toby pulled out a large camera with an even larger flashbulb.

“Oh, uh, just recently.” Toby chuckled nervously. “Now, you stand right over there, next to that display of bright, shiny, reflective crystals. And I’ll stand right here, next to this clearly out of order vending machine.”

Soos struck a pose where Toby had told him to stand. “Oh, dude, wait--” He remembered he was supposed to be guarding the vending machine just as the reporter snapped the photo. The camera’s flash reflected and refracted through the crystals, blinding the handyman.

“Ah! My eyes!”

“Ah! Also my eyes!”

Unfortunately for Toby, he hadn’t stopped to think that maybe he should protect himself from the flash.

“Uh, dude, could you do me a favor and not touch that vending machine until my eyes adjust back to normal?”

“Never!” The determined reporter declared. “The man in the color-changing clothes and funny goggles told me I could be with Shandra Jimenez forever if I brought him the magic sticky ball hidden in the secret basement!”

Toby felt around blindly for the machine’s key-pad and started pressing buttons randomly. Soos followed the beeping sound and tackled the little man to the ground.

“Not cool, dude! You are officially banned from our FCLORP team!”

“No!” Toby whined. “You guys are the only people who tolerate me!”

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you tried to break into Dr. Pines’ secret lab, dude! Which, uh, which he totally doesn’t have. That… that’s not a real thing.”

Toby obviously didn’t believe him, as he continued to struggle against Soos for access to the vending machine. Soos easily stopped him by just sitting on top of him.

“Y’know.” the handyman mused as his eyes began to adjust back to normal. “Dipper and Mabel put up a much harder fight than you. I’m just sayin’ you might wanna start doin’ more exercise and stuff. I know a place at the mall that teaches karate! I’ve been goin’ there since I was ten.”

“Let me go!” Toby demanded as he flailed his arms and legs uselessly.

“No can do, dawg. I promised Mr. Pines I’d hold down the fort while he’s busy taking care of family junk.”

Soos didn’t have to keep Toby at bay for much longer. For the second time that day, Dr. Pines burst out of the Employees Only door. He had his blaster drawn, and Stan wasn’t far behind him.

“What happened!?” Ford barked, aiming his blaster down at Toby’s wriggling form. “What is that thing?”

“Uh, I think Bill got to Toby.” Soos explained.

The old researcher grimaced. “Bill must have used some sort of magical artefact to mutate him!”

“What? No, he’s always been like that.” Stan corrected him. “What’d the triangle promise you, Toby?”

“Triangle?” The reporter asked in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“He said a dude in color-changing clothes and funny goggles told him he could be with Shandra Jimenez forever if he got the magic sticky ball in the secret basement.” Soos recounted.

“And nothing about that seemed suspicious to you?” Stan asked.

“Well, not particularly…”

“Why am I not surprised.” The old conman rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Somebody’s pullin’ a prank on you, Toby. The Mystery Shack doesn’t have a basement.”

“Oh, but he was so convincing!” Toby whined.

“He is very convincing.” Ford said gravely. “Where were you when he found you? Do you know where he is now?”

“He just came into the printing room while I was finishing off this morning’s publication. He told me to bring the ball to the dump.”

Ford scratched his chin thoughtfully, considering all the information before him. “It’s probably a trap. I doubt Bill expected this attempt to work.”

“Really, what gave you that idea?” Stan asked sarcastically. “Hey Toby, if you leave now and promise not to come back, I won’t press charges.”

“Hooray!”

“Oh, and gimme a call if you see that, uh, prankster again.”

The reporter agreed and left. Ford immediately began pacing.

“This was almost a disaster! If Bill had sent a competent pawn instead of this distraction, the rift would be broken by now!” He rounded on Stan “Why did you leave the secret entrance unguarded!?”

“I didn’t leave it unguarded, I left Soos.” Stan defended. “And yeah, he’s a goofus, but he got the job done, so I don’t see what you’re complaining about.”

“Aw, thanks Mr. Pines.”

“Don’t get mushy on me, kid.”

“Everything turned out alright this time, yes.” Ford admitted. “But what if Bill sends someone or something more dangerous than a tiny goblin man?”

“I can totally handle it, dude.” Soos assured him. “I’ve fought puhterodactyls, haunted animatronics, and ate my way out of a creepy monster made of candy.”

“Really?” Ford looked at the handyman like he was just seeing Soos properly for the first time.

The conversation paused when Dipper and Mabel entered the room.

“Here’s everybody. Hey Great Uncle Ford, can I ask you a favor for Wendy?” Dipper asked. He then took in Ford’s frantic pacing and Soos’s rumpled clothes. “What’s going on?”

“Toby Determined just tried to break into the lab.” Stan replied nonchalantly, like he was commenting on finding gnomes in the trash again.

“What?” The young twins cried in unison.

“Was it Bill?” Mabel asked in concern.

“It couldn’t have been, the barrier spell is still up.” Dipper reasoned. “Right?”

“The barrier is still intact, yes.” Ford assured them. “It appears Bill convinced Toby to find the rift while possessing the same time travel agent as before.”

“Poor Blendin.” Mabel worried.

“I can’t believe Bill actually tried to use Toby.” Dipper said incredulously. “I mean, he can’t have gotten very far.”

“He didn’t.” Stan said simply.

“I sat on him.” Soos added.

“It seems like Bill is trying to set some sort of trap.” Ford explained. “Bill told Toby to bring the rift to the dump. I suspect he shared that information knowing that Toby would get caught, and that we would interrogate him.”

“That’s weird. Why would Bill want us to go to the dump?” Dipper wondered. “Unless…” the boy’s eyes widened and as he glanced at his sister, he knew the same awful realization was dawning on her. Neither of them had heard from McGucket since the party at Northwest Manor, the day before the portal reopened.

“Unless what?” Ford asked eagerly.

“Uhhh…” the young twins hemmed. They’d purposely forgotten to tell Ford about what happened to his old friend. How do you tell someone their best friend had driven himself insane and was now a homeless coot living in the dump? Although, considering Ford read Dipper’s entries in the Journal, the old researcher probably at least had an idea of how far McGucket had fallen.

“You remember your old research buddy, right?” Mabel asked awkwardly.

“...What does Fiddleford have to do with this situation?”

“He… kinda lives in the dump now.” Dipper’s reply pitched up at the end, almost like it was a question.

Ford stared at them agape for a moment. “I’d gathered that his mental state had deteriorated since I left, but… from what Dipper had written, it seemed like he was still working in robotics. How--why is he living in the dump!?”

“I think he’s just really bad with money.” Mabel shrugged. “He won a sweepstakes earlier this summer and he’s already spent it all on junky cars from Gleeful’s Auto Sales.”

“Yeah, I think he just used them for parts to build the Gideon-bot.” Dipper added.

“And you both believe he’s still at the dump?” Ford asked, distraught.

“Well, that’s where he’s lived all summer.” Dipper said slowly. “But… neither of us have seen him since the night before you got here.”

The old researcher finally stopped pacing and sat down heavily in the chair behind the cash register, running his fingers anxiously through his hair.

“Even if it is most likely a trap, that’s bait I can’t ignore…”

“We have to go find him and make sure he’s ok!” Mabel insisted.

“Yeah, but we can’t just walk right into an obvious trap!” Dipper exclaimed.

“So just sneak in.” Stan suggested. “It’s the dump, not the State Penitentiary.”

Ford shook his head. “Bill can’t be snuck up on, he has eyes everywhere. Our best hope is to take a direct approach and be prepared for anything.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, of course you would wanna go in guns ablazing.”

“Says the man who thinks every problem can be solved by punching it!”

“Ok, ok.” Dipper held up his hands, hoping his Grunkles would be able to stop fighting long enough to come up with a plan. “But launching a full-scale rescue mission is probably exactly what Bill wants. We can’t leave the Shack and the Rift unguarded.”

“Eh, Soos can probably watch it again.” Stan said.

“Sure thing, Mr. Pines.”

“Actually, I think Soos’s abilities might be better suited for our rescue mission.” Ford suggested. “We’ll need an unpredictable element. Someone who Bill is likely to underestimate. I think you’d be better to stay and guard the lab, Stanley.”

“Fine by me.” Stan shrugged. “I honestly couldn’t care less what happens to Old Man McGucket.”

Ford scowled at his brother, but held his tongue for now.

“I think we’ll need more than just Stan to watch the Shack.” Dipper reasoned.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, kid.” Stan said sarcastically.

“It’s not like I doubt your skills, I’ve seen you punch dinosaurs and fight zombies, but Bill is really dangerous, and we can’t afford to take any risks.” The boy looked around the giftshop. “Where’s Wendy?”

“Oh yeah, she took the rest of the day off.” Soos remembered. “She said she had to take care of some stuff.”

“Aw man.” Dipper groaned. The lumberjack’s daughter would have been the perfect person to help Stan guard the Shack. She was cunning and resourceful and could bury a hatchet’s blade three inches into a tree from ten feet away.

Mabel tugged on her brother’s vest. “Dipper, you should stay here with Stan.”

“What? But I wanna go with Great Uncle Ford! And, uh, I was the last one who saw McGucket at the party!” The boy protested, trying to throw some weak logic behind his desire.

“I know, but… but…” The girl threw her arms around her brother as she failed to keep her voice from trembling. “I’m so scared that Bill is gonna hurt you again! Please, can’t you just stay here where you’re safe from him?”

Dipper returned her hug. “I don’t want him to hurt you either. Maybe both of us should stay?”

Mabel shook her head. “No, somone’s gotta go make sure McGucket’s alright, and if it is a trap, Grunkle Ford’s gonna need all the help he can get.”

“Just promise you’ll be careful.”

“Don’t worry, brobro, I’ve always got my secret weapon!” Mabel assured him, pulling out her grappling hook.

“I’ll make sure she’s safe.” Ford promised, making pointed eye contact first with Dipper, then with Stan.

“Yeah, you better. Otherwise it’s your funeral when her mom finds out.” Stan grunted.

“Does everyone have what you need to defend yourselves?” Ford asked. Mabel held up her grappling hook, and Soos grabbed a shovel out of the Shack’s utility closet. “Then let’s go! We’ll discuss a plan on the way there.”

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Mabel Pines #Dipper Pines #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #My Writing

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msjr0119 · 4 years

Text

A Second Chance

Prologue

Book: The Royal Romance

Series Pairings: Liam x Riley (Flashbacks), Drake x Hana (Flashbacks), Drake x Riley (Present Time- Friendship?).

*All characters belong to Pixelberry apart from Bethany Hughes-Rhys*

Please do not read this series if you are under 18 or if you are affected by any of the below trigger warnings. By doing so, you are consenting that you are over 18.

Warnings: Mention of suicide (past tense), Grief, Depression, Mention of two characters death. Slight adult language.

A/N: So this is a follow up to my ‘Hold On’ series. I was really confused when @kacie-0156 requested for me to do this as she is a Liam Stan. I still don’t understand 🤷‍♀️ but I’ll try my best! Thank you Kacie for the moodboard that you have provided. 💕❤️ The series takes part over two decades after ‘Hold On’ finished.

Song Inspiration: One Sweet Day, Mariah Carey Ft Boyz II Men

Word Count: 3,200

Tags, off the top of my head- as always if you want to be removed/added don’t hestitate in asking me: @pedudley @kacie-0156 @annekebbphotography @yukinagato2012 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @lodberg @cmestrella @axwalker @hopefulmoonobject @notoriouscs @rafasgirl23415 @walker7519 @drakewalker04

*****

It had been six months since that day. The day that the Queen of Cordonia realised that her fairytale life had been snatched away from her in an instant. Today was the first day in which she had made an effort with her appearance. Upon her arrival she could sense that all her friends were eager to pounce on her, demanding to know that she was okay. Interrogate her. Keeping that stoic expression, she avoided conversations with her close friends- instead just remained civil with her children and people such as Francesco. Keeping a speech minimal, she thanked everyone for coming before returning to her quarters. Alone. This had been a common occurrence- keeping herself guarded. Not allowing anyone to break down the walls that she had built up.

Jackson noticed that his Auntie had been specifically quiet since that day six months ago. Walking over towards Princess Ayah and Prince Louis, they both smiled softly - however provided sorrow in their eyes.

“Is your Mom okay?” Ayah shook her head. Not really knowing how to explain the mask that Riley was wearing to hide her true feelings.

“She’s not coping, Jackson. I’m scared that she’s going to do something stupid. Before we existed, she tried to end her life in New York. My Father didn’t want to tell us about it, but he did one night to explain how much of a fighter our Mom is. She isn’t talking to anyone apart from us and her Godchildren. Whenever any of her friends try to talk to her, she shuns them away. Maybe Uncle Drake could try and talk to her again? Because you know....” Jackson didn’t need Ayah to continue that sentence, he knew full well what she was about to say.

“I’ll go and mention it to him. Don’t worry about Aunt Ri. She has everyone here, supporting her.” Kissing the Princess on the cheek, he scrutinised the room for his father. Jackson Walker adored his ‘cousins’ and ‘Auntie’- even though they wasn’t blood, he felt as if they were.

******

“Brooks....” Feeling like this was a waste of time, Drake decided that the best option was to walk away, as she wasn’t responding. Jackson placed a comforting hand onto his father’s shoulder, suggesting that Drake should leave. Feeling like a failure, to Ayah who believed that they would get her Mom to open up to them- Jackson decided to try himself. Listening to his son’s advise, Drake left in a swift motion- frustrated that he couldn’t persuade her to come out of her hovel and just talk.

“Aunt Ri?” Jackson said softly as he knocked on the door. Riley knew she was being stubborn whenever a visitor would knock on the door- but for some reason she could never ignore her children, or her friends children.

“Jackson.” Smiling at his Auntie, he pulled her in for a tight hug. “What can I do for you?”

“Have a walk? Or just a little talk with me? We all miss you, and we want to help you through it. Dad just wants to help too. You could help each other?”

“You’re only twenty one Jackson, you should be out with your friends- enjoying life. Don’t take a minute for granted. You should be living each day as if it’s your last.” Listening to her words, he knew what she was referring to. His heart sunk, the usual poised Queen stood in front of him was absolutely broken even if she tried to conceal it. “I miss him so much Jackson, and I miss your Mom too. Each day that goes by, doesn’t get any easier. I need to be strong for Ayah, Louis and Ellie but truth be told- they are so much stronger than I am.”

“Aunt Ri, everything will get better in time. Uncle Liam loved you- as did my Mom. They would both want you to be happy, being the strong woman that you are. Please don’t stay up here on your own. If you need anything, dont hesistate to let anyone know. Whether that’s to watch a film, or to go for a cronut, a walk in the maze? It’s Dad’s birthday party tomorrow night- fifty. The old fart. It would be good to see you there. Ayah is going with Louis, El, Uncle Leo and Aunt Beth.”

“I’ll see how I feel. Thank you for the talk Jackson. You remind me so much of your Mom, caring- thinking about everyone.”

“Shame I look like my Dad then.” Riley laughed as the young man winked at her. “I love you, Aunt Ri.”

*****

Drake woke up the following morning, not really in the mood to celebrate his fiftieth birthday. However he knew that he needed to make the effort. Mainly due to the blood, sweat and guts that Maxwell had put in to organising it. It had been six months since he had said goodbye to his wife and best friend- the King. The traumatic events from that night still haunted him- the grief was still lingering every second of each day that went by. But what was also breaking his heart was how Riley was coping with the loss of her husband and her friend. Ever since the funeral, the Queen had ignored her friends, barely acknowledged their existence- keeping herself to herself.

Making himself look presentable, he headed over to Ramsford with Jackson.

*****

“Speech, speech, speech....” Maxwell shouted, peer pressuring Drake to make a speech. The last speech was the eulogy he spoke at Hana’s funeral. He wasn’t confident when it came to speaking in front of crowds, but he believed the sooner he did it the sooner it would be over and done with.

“Well what can I say? I’m an old man now. I’d like to thank you all for coming today, drinking whiskey in honour of me... you all know me too well. I know it’s been six months, they say that time gets easier but it really doesn’t. I wish that three other people could be here by my side celebrating this milestone with me; my wife Hana, my best friend Liam and our Queen.” Lifting his tumbler of whiskey up into the air, the others followed suit. Drake closed his eyes for a brief second, imagining the happier times with Liam, Riley and Hana- imagining that this was just some awful nightmare that he couldn’t escape or wake up from. But no this was reality. He had lost his best friend and wife to a successful assassination. Opening his eyes, the room was mute- all eyes focusing towards the doorway.

“Brooks?” Riley raised her drink in to the air as she smiled softly towards him. Placing the empty glass on the table next to her, she turned around and headed towards the balcony needing a bit of fresh air. Following her, he just wanted to make sure that she was okay- that she was coping. Even though he knew that she wasn’t. He never imagined that she would turn up, due to her personality recently.

“Hey.” Drake nervously said, as he watched her staring up to the starry sky- her eyes fixated on the brightest one.

“Hey, old man. Happy birthday!”

“Less with the old man cheeky... you’ll be catching up soon...”

“Maybe, but you’ll still be older than me. I got you a present, I wasn’t sure if I was coming or not- it’s too predictable but I’m sure you’ll make use of it.” Handing him the bag, he shook his head whilst laughing. “I’m far too predictable, I’m going to be turning into whiskey with the amount that people have bought me. Thank you, Riley.”

“No need to thank me. Enjoy the rest of your party.”

“Are you leaving?”

“I’m going to mingle with everyone, I’ve not been myself- hiding away from everyone. Seen as though I’ve made the effort, I may as well make the most of it.” Drake smiled at her. Their past was complicated to say the least- but they had put that behind them. But now he felt the need to protect her, something that he didn’t do when they was together- he owed it to himself as well as to Liam.

“It’s good to see you out and about. If you need anything- just let me know.”

“I just need my friends and children. Which I already have. I needed my husband. I still do. I miss him so much.”

“So do I. You’re not alone. I miss Hana, I know you do too. You have myself and Jackson, your children- who aren’t children anymore. You know what I mean. Leo, Beth, the Beaumont’s, Liv.”

*****

Jackson, Ayah, Louis and Ellie all walked towards the balcony- Jackson put his arm in front of them all to prevent them going any further, noticing that his Dad and Aunt was too close.

“And what are you all doing?”

“Aunt Liv! You made us jump.” Ayah said, as she tried to catch her breath.

“Oh hell no.” Leo commented as he joined in spying on Drake and Riley. “Do you think they are going to grieve together and do more?”

“Uncle Leo! That’s our Mom and our Uncle that you’re talking about.”

“Oh kids, they were together well before they married their spouses. They were even due to have a baby until this jerk called Nate beat myself and Riley to a pulp.” Shrugging his shoulders, the young adults looked at other confused as to why this was such a big secret kept from them.

*****

“I know I have you all. I am grateful for that.” Pulling her closer to him, he held her in his embrace. Hearing her whimpers, and feeling the tears drip onto him- his grip became tight. Not in a hurtful way, more of a protective type of way.

“You are an amazing Queen, you are doing a fabulous job.”

“I’m stepping down, Drake. Louis is taking over from me.”

“Louis? Ayah is the Crown Princess. She’s the eldest.”

“History is repeating itself. She abdicated from her duties last week. Louis’s social season begins at the end of the week.”

“You’re putting him through a social season. Jesus Brooks why?”

“He decided it, not me. I didn’t want my children to go through what Liam- What we all went through. I can’t rule without Liam, and I’m not remarrying. Don’t tell anyone that I told you, I’m going to do a statement. I can trust you, right? You’re one of my closest friends.” What we went through. The social season of hell.

“Of course you can trust me.” Cupping her cheeks, he said this with sincerity surrounding his eyes.

“I.. I should go.” Kissing her softly on the cheek, she inhaled sharply. Her heart began to flutter, Drake wasn’t Liam- but having someone this close to her for the first time in months felt unusual. Someone who she loved once upon a time.

“Look after yourself, Brooks. We are all here for you. Always.”

****

Riley did Drake’s usual trick throughout the party- ‘people watching’. She had some conversations with her friends but kept it minimal. The common questions and phrases spoken in these conversations included Liam. Deep down she knew that it was good to talk about him, but for her it was still so raw.

Maxwell bounded up towards her, very intoxicated. “Your majesty. You look absolutely beautiful. I’ve missed you.”

“Thank you. I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry.”

“Blossom, don’t apologise.”

“I have to. I haven’t been myself since I - we lost Liam. And Hana.”

“Come on, lets get out of here for a bit...” Holding his hand out towards her, she remained standing dormant.

“I’m actually going to head to Valtoria.”

“Stay here. You still have a room here. It’s yours...” Pausing for a second, she couldn’t help but smile at the man stood in front of her with the goofy smile. “How is Drake coping?” Maxwell was unsure as to why she asked this.

“Erm, he has a few quiet days. The therapy is helping him though. He blames himself for what happened that night... but you know Drake, he always wears that scowl to cover his true emotions. I know you’ve probably heard this a million times, but Liam and Hana wouldn’t want either of you to be unhappy. A little birdy told me that Louis is beginning a social season. Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have supported you!”

“DRAKE TOLD YOU?” Not realising how loud she was, Drake made his way over to them. Wondering why his name was mentioned. Wondering why Riley’s quiet tone of voice had raised all of a sudden.

“No, Louis did. Drake knew?”

“I knew what? Brooks, are you okay?”

“About Louis becoming King... I assumed you told Max. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” The two men pulled her in for a hug, as she eventually broke down uncontrollably crying. “Don’t apologise blossom. For anything.” Maxwell whispered.

“I’m going to go to my room. Thank you for inviting me, both of you.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” After Maxwell asked this, Drake decided to leave the two of them. Before he could escape, Riley grabbed his hand- forcing him to turn to face her.

“Drake?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk upstairs? Alone. I have realised that I should talk to someone. Someone who is going through the same emotions... I won’t keep you for too long, it’s your party. I just feel if I don’t do this now, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do it.”

“Of course we can talk. For as long as you need to.” The friends all overheard Riley’s request including her children. All smiling softly, knowing that this was the first step she was taking to get out of the depression. To grieve with some support. To move on from her husbands death but to keep his memory alive. Baby steps.

****

Drake sat down on the edge of the bed as Riley poured him a whiskey.

“Who’d have imagined we’d have been here, in this situation. Didn’t Kiara and Nate put us through enough shit?” Laughing nervously, she wasn’t sure how to begin this difficult conversation.

“But that shit, led us both to begin families with our loved ones. You have to think of it that way..”

“True.” There was an awkward silence due to Riley’s lack of response.

“Why have you been avoiding us all?” Not wanting to sound harsh, but he needed to know. Deep down he had an inkling as to why. He just needed this confirmation, so everybody could help in the best possible way.

“I couldn’t cope. I lost the love of my life unexpectedly. Seeing you all reminded me of him. I’d go to bed, holding my wedding photo- snuggling into Liam’s clothes. It still hasn’t sunk in. I’m so sorry that I’ve ignored you all...”

“We understand, we had just hoped that you would have let us help you. I’ve been the same. If it wasn’t for those morons downstairs, I think I’d have drunk whiskey all day every day to blank the pain.. we both loved Liam and Hana, and they both loved us dearly.” In sync, the two of them briefly closed their eyes- images of their spouses flashing through their mind.

“Louis suggested starting the social season to keep my mind off of things. But it’s just going to bring memories back. Of us. Of everybody.”

“It may be a good thing? We are all going to support you both.” Snuggling close to him, she felt his arm go around her waist. “Why did Ayah abdicate?”

“She’s... she’s... oh god, Drake... this is so embarrassing...”

“What?”

“She’s her father’s double. Insisting that she doesn’t want a political marriage, that she wants to marry for love. Ayah started a relationship with.....” Drake’s brain began functioning. His first thought was his son, Jackson. If it was Jackson, he knew that people would criticise her choice- due to his commoner blood that ran through his veins.

“Who?” He eventually questioned, not quite knowing if he wanted to hear the answer or not.

“Theo...” Riley shrugged her shoulders as his jaw practically hit the floor.

“You’re having me on... aren’t you?”

“No. I wish I was... honestly... I’m hoping it’s just a fling. But you can’t help who you fall in love with.” Looking down towards the floor, she bit her lip as she was referring to him. Referring to their past. Hoping that he wouldn’t realise.

“No you can’t help who you fall in love with..” Pausing, he decided to make a joke out of it. “You know if he hurts her- her Uncle’s won’t hold back. I’m pretty sure Liam’s spirit won’t either.”

“None of you will touch him. I’ll beat you all to it!” Providing that infamous cocky smirk, Drake shook his head- he hadn’t seen it painted on her face in what seemed like an eternity. Caressing her cheek, they both locked eyes.

“Of course you will... it’s good to see you smile.”

“I agree. Thank you. I should let you get back to your party.”

“I’m ready for bed, I can’t hack it anymore. I’m not a spring chicken anymore.” Standing up, he mimicked walking with an invisible walking stick- causing her to throw her head back laughing.

“No, you’re an old grumpy marshmallow now.”

“Queen bossy pants. Night, Brooks.” Turning to leave, it was a brief conversation- a conversation that everyone had wanted to start with all those months ago. Finally she had opened up, even if it wasn’t much. Hoping that this was the first move to gaining closure on Liam’s death.

“Drake, wait!”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thank you for the talk.”

“No worries. You know where to find me or any of us for that matter. I love you, Ri.”

“I love you, too.”

****

Once Drake had left, she got under the duvet- making a quick phone call. As soon as the voicemail message began, tears ran down her cheek like a waterfall. Unable to stop.

Hello. You have reached Liam, but I am unavailable at the moment. Sorry for my beautiful wife, my Queen- giggling in the background. If you need me, leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.

Even though she was crying, she still managed to let out a little laugh- this was his personal phone for his friends, but now it was a regular call she made on a daily basis.

“Hey, handsome. It’s me again. The giggling wife. I’ve actually laughed for the first time today, Drake the old man turned fifty. Of course he was drinking whiskey. I know I say this everytime I ring you, but I miss you so fucking much Li. I love you so much. My biggest regret was not telling you that the day you left us. So I’m making up for it now. Now it's too late to hold you 'Cause you've flown away. But that doesn’t stop my imagination from believing that you are here. Never had I imagined living without your smile, and I know you're shining down on me from heaven. I hope you and Hana are celebrating up there. I know eventually we'll be together. One sweet day. Until we meet again. I love you, my King.”

#tw: death #tw: grief #tw: adult language #tw: depression #liam x riley #drake x riley #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #leo rhys #trr #trr hold on #trr a second chance

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