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#not even going to mention how gone I’ve been it’ll happen again eventually
rogueshadeaux · 2 years
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Chapter Nine — Homecoming
“Things are…different.” Dad continued. “They’ll always be different now. But maybe that’s not bad. I get to share things with you two I’ve been hiding for years. The powers and this reservation and…” he trailed off, glancing behind me. “And that house. I get to be honest with you two, finally.” 
4.4k words | 13 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of familial loss
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Dad eventually drove towards a comfortable neighborhood, nothing like the suburbs in Portland or our rural street back home. It was the best of both of those worlds; homes close enough for kids to meet up, chucking snowballs at each other from snow forts made in well spaced yards. Each house had a decent yard, decorated with defunct gardens or empty above-ground pools or kiddie playgrounds. It looked perfect, a place I was a bit regretful I didn’t get to grow up in. 
 Dad kept down the road, turning onto the concrete driveway of the worst looking house on the street; overgrown shrubbery in front of its brick sides, white paneled wood in need of a paint job and the long porch entirely void of, well, anything. The only evidence it had any life in it at all was the powder blue Volkswagen Beetle already in the driveway and the smoke rising from the brick fireplace. 
 Dad slowly crept into the driveway, coming to a stop at a snail's pace and eventually putting the truck in park, pulling the emergency break. He stared at the front of the house with an emotion I couldn’t even begin to understand, and I suddenly understood why he seemed so off; this house held so many memories. Echoes of a life Dad wanted and could never reach again. Haunted by the ghosts of everything he knew that once lived in that house. 
 Hell, I wouldn’t come back either, if I had a choice. 
 None of us had any choice though, especially when Betty came barreling out of the front door and onto the porch, waving us towards her. Summoning us. Dad sighed, mumbling a, “C’mon, let’s go,” and throwing open his door, stepping out. 
 Luckily, Dad had something to hold his attention, ripping him out of his depression: Brent. He was still soaked to the bone, shivering the moment his car door opened and still having to cough every now and then to get out the remaining water.
 “My God, what happened?” Betty demanded as we approached the house.
 “Training accident,” Dad shrugged, “Take him inside, will you? Jean, come help me get the bags.” 
 Dad left Brent with Betty, who ushered him into the house and closed the door behind her, saying something about the fireplace. Dad was already halfway to the truck by the time I turned again, leaving me to jog to catch up as he jumped into its bed. 
 “Here.” He said curtly, passing me my backpack and a duffle bag. I barely had any time to grip both before he let go, turning to the pile of other things. 
 “Dad?” 
 “Hm?” 
 “Are you okay?” 
 Dad stopped, mid-crouch, and sighed deeply, tense shoulders finally giving away to the pressure of whatever was wearing him down. “Yeah. Sorry, Jean, I’m just—“ he cut off, straightening and running a hand over his face. “There’s a lot going on, you know?” 
 “Yeah,” I whispered, finally able to at least empathize. So much was changing and shifting and being revealed and made irrelevant that…I sort of understood. 
 Dad turned to look at me, brows creased. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. Things have been crazy, huh?” He laughed mirthlessly. “But it’ll — things will be okay. After what I saw today? How you and Brent did? I don’t doubt it.” 
 “Yeah, but,” I laid the duffle bag on the ground. It still had a price tag on it just like all the clothes Dad had yesterday, more proof that everything we knew from before was gone or being replaced. “Will things ever go back? Will we get to finish school or-or see everyone again, or—“ 
 Dad moved out of the truck, jumping to the ground beside me and gripping my shoulder, spinning me to face him. I hadn’t even realized I was tearing up until he wiped away a loose tear that was running down my cheek. “Listen, Regina. I…I can’t promise you that things will be the same. Honestly, they won’t be. Your life, it’s gonna permanently be split into this ‘before’ and ‘after,’ now that you know you’re a Conduit. 
 “I don’t know when we can go back. Until I can find out more about this Archangel shit, I’m not comfortable letting you two go back. But I’m not going to leave you two alone, okay? There’s nothing we can’t do if we stay together. Everything will be okay if we stay together. I’m going to contact your school and see what I can do about your exams. And hey, now that you know you’re Akomish, it’s as good a time as any to tell you you get free college, right?” 
 I snorted, rolling my eyes and laughing between shaky breaths. Leave it to Dad to try and brighten the mood. But it did take away the stress of wondering about scholarships and such. 
 “Things are…different.” Dad continued. “They’ll always be different now. But maybe that’s not bad. I get to share things with you two I’ve been hiding for years. The powers and this reservation and…” he trailed off, glancing behind me. “And that house. I get to be honest with you two, finally.” 
 Sniffing, I looked at him, asking, “Were you ever gonna tell us?” 
 “I’m…not sure. But I wanted to, you have no goddamn idea. There was always this worry that things would go wrong, and I didn’t want to risk you two getting hurt. What good that did. You could have died.” A shadow briefly crossed over his face as his thoughts casted a dark shadow in his mind, and I knew he was thinking about the Akurans. “But hey, now I can. And I will. Honesty from here on out, okay?” 
 He held up a pinky finger, and I chuckled again. A pinky promise. When we were younger, Dad used to tell us a pinky promise was law binding, an oath stronger than life itself. Any pinky promise you made had to be followed through, no matter how long it took. It’s what scored us our trip to Disneyland, it’s how Dad got us to keep good grades. And now, he was using it to carry so much more weight; a promise of clarity. Lord knows I needed it right now. Sniffing, I smiled gently, and wrapped my pinky around his. 
 “That’s my girl,” he whispered, eventually letting me go. “C’mon. Lemme show you where I grew up.” 
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 Once Brent changed into his pajamas and warmed up a bit, Dad left with Betty to get the beds, promising food as well once he returned. 
 We got a quick tour of the house, pointed towards the bathroom and what would be our bedroom. What was once our bedroom. “You’ll have to share for now,” Dad said when he opened the door to drop off our things. “The basement was refurbished to be two extra rooms, but it’s so full of shit right now, we can’t get in there.” 
 That’s where I was now. Our room. An old nursery that looked way too cool to be an actual nursery. 
 In the absolute chaos that was the last few days, I completely neglected to remember the fact that my dad was not only the revolutionist Delsin Rowe, but one of my favorite artists. His street art during the Seattle Uprising was a big part of his gartering of support, statement pieces against the sudden martial law and DUP and complete decimation of Seattle as a whole for a woman’s power play. I’ve studied it, I’ve written bits on it, I’ve tried replicating the style. 
 And now I was standing in a room full of complete originals. 
 It wasn’t spray paint, his usual weapon of choice — doubt spray paint would have worked well in a nursery anyways. But it was definitely Rowe, there was no mistaking the style. It was a fun jungle theme with the classic Rowe twist; monkeys playing connect four, a tiger trying to shove itself into a tiny box. There was an elephant on one wall with a canvas in front of it, a paintbrush in its trunk. 
 But its red canvas was covered in terrible art, splashes and smears and splats of blue and silver paint along with two impossibly tiny handprints.
 I walked a bit closer to the canvas, squatting down to look at the handprints. Just below each, in beautiful simplistic cursive, were our names in black sharpie, 𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 and 𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓮. Our art. Our handprints. 
I laid my hand over the blue one with my name, laughing lightly. Was I really that small at some point? And to think, I considered my hands small now; these were miniscule. Impossibly tiny. I wonder if the elephant was here from the start, waiting for our contribution, or if Mom and Dad added it later. 
Mom. I moved my hand from the wall to look at the cursive. It was too neat, too perfect to be Dad’s; that had to be hers. She called me Jeanie, too? 
 I stayed staring at it for an impossibly long time, trying to soak up some piece of her by brushing the ink with the tip of my finger. Mom. She was here, helped us make this mess on the wall, probably helped us stamp our little hands on it too. Wrote our names. For some time, long ago, we were together, we did get to be a family. 
 And I didn’t remember a thing. 
 I’ll admit it, I teared up. I’ve always wanted time with my mom, always mourned everything we missed — the wound was now reopened, the twisting knife of the truth cutting it deeper. At some point, I did have Mom. Long ago, there were probably cuddles and love and laughs. Another goddamn thing ripped away, something I feared I’d never get back. Something I knew I’d never get back. 
 But I guess there was really no point to being sad if I knew it was gone. At least, I’d keep telling myself that.
I went to wipe my eyes, shaking my head and looking upwards to take a deep breath — and instead was left breathless. Up there, peppered on the popcorn ceiling were spots and swirls of neon light, their blue and pink glow dimmed by the sunlight pouring in from the open blinds. 
 Neon. Dad said that was Mom’s power. And somehow, evidence of it stayed safe in this house for years, possibly longer than I’d been alive. It was beautiful; the neon seemed to be hovering on its own extension, a few centimeters off of the ceiling but somehow still secure. Somehow still glowing. 
 I stood, going from flat feet to tiptoe as I tried to reach up and touch a pink swirl. ‘Course, I was too short to even hope to touch it. And the nursery was entirely bare of anything to stand on — so I was left to just stare up at the beautiful lights, constellations of our Mom’s past love for us. 
 Our mom. Right. I had a twin, who’d probably really like to see this. 
 I left the room, walking briskly down the short hallway to force Brent into gazing with me when I stopped once entering the living room. Brent was sitting on a plastic covered sofa, just staring into the flames of the fireplace, looking so…depressed. Off in a world that was dragging him down into the embers. He didn’t even hear me approaching, didn’t move until the sofa sank when I sat, only glancing at me and giving me a nod as acknowledgement. “You good?” I finally asked after an awkward moment.
 “Winter formal’s tonight.” 
 Oh. Wow. It was, wasn’t it? And Brent had a date. Had. “Mei would understand,” I began, Brent just rolling his eyes and getting off the old couch. “Hey, Brent—“ 
 “Don’t, Jean, okay?” He snapped, not looking back as he went to the kitchen on the other side of the spacious front area of the house, taking a solo cup from the pile Betty brought from the Longhouse. He moved to the sink, filling the glass with tap water. “It’s whatever.” 
“It’s not whatever,” I scoffed, standing. “It’s obviously bothering you—“ 
 “It isn’t—“ 
 “Don’t sit here and do that tough guy shit with me, dude.” I shut him down, moving around the sofa and instead leaning against the back of it, crossing my arms. “The past three days have been hell, I know that.”
 Brent didn’t respond, turning off the tap and taking a slow sip from the cup and looking out of the small window just above the sink’s backsplash. I waited until he lowered the cup, unmoving otherwise, to say, “She would get it. Anyone in their right mind would.” 
 “Tommy didn’t.” 
 “Tommy is an asshole,” I scoffed, “Who we both know jumps at the first chance to be the center of attention. He was whining at school about how we killed those guys and almost killed him—“ 
 Brent turned at that, slowly and lowly asking, “How do you know that?” 
 Oh, shit. Busted. “Okay, so I may have talked to Reese—“ 
 “Jean!” 
 “It was a ten minute phone call!” I added defensively.
 “You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head and chucking the solo cup into the sink angrily. “Dad specifically told us not to talk to anyone and you’re over here just casually chatting up Reese—“ 
 “Oh don’t act like you wouldn’t run to Formal right now if you had the chance. I wanted to make sure she was alright because hey, if you don’t remember, I passed out in that alley—“ 
 “And I was shot, but I didn’t go starting a discord call to whine about it.” 
 Brent glared at me, crossing his arms. Angry, sure, but his eyes held more than that. Hurt. Fear. The same worry that everything was going to be different now. Could I blame him for lashing out? Hell, things were already different for him in a way I couldn’t even pretend to understand; guy’s best friend turned on him almost immediately, and he had to stand up his date for fear of his life. 
 I sighed, uncrossing my arms and instead using them to hold myself up against the couch. “I’m sorry. Not just about the call, but Mei and Tommy, too. It’s…I’m not ready. For this to change. Wanted to get to say goodbye, s’all.” 
 Brent softened a little, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. He held my gaze for a while longer before finally asking, “Reese say anything about Mei?” 
 “Cops talked to her, but that’s really it.” I sighed. 
 Brent slowly nodded, finally breaking his gaze to stare at his feet. “I should’ve asked her out sooner.” He muttered. “Might’ve gotten to know…” 
 He trailed off, the hope of fleeting maybe’s leaving him to always have to wonder what if? “You did get to know,” I said. “She asked you, didn’t she? And I know Mei; being a Conduit wouldn’t change a thing. She’d probably love it, say something about how it’ll help you two with your budding architecture business—“ 
 “Shut up,” Brent rolled his eyes. But he also chuckled. Good. 
 We fell into a more comfortable silence, an unspoken apology in the air as we moved on from the topic. “I was actually coming out here to tell you to check out the nursery. Look up, specifically.” 
 “‘Look up’?” Brent repeated, cocking an eyebrow. I just nodded, refusing to elaborate further and not following him as he left me to walk towards the hallway. He’d need the privacy. 
 Instead, I moved around the house, taking the time to be nosy. 
 The house looked like someone was in the middle of moving out; packed boxes shoved into the corners with tape, a lone couch in an otherwise empty living room. The electricity wasn’t on yet, but surprisingly held the heat from the fireplace well, leaving me to only need my sweater on to stay warm. The counters were covered in dust and yet the carpet looked clean as could be, a cordless vacuum hiding beside a coat closet. Was everything here…ours? Betty said she donated the cribs. Did Dad rush off, pack only the essentials before we moved to Chapman? 
 Did he even get any time to mourn before everything changed? 
 It took everything in me not to start ripping tape off of boxes and shift through their contents, trying to see what glimpses of my early life they had. I had no idea how long we’d be staying here — would we need to unpack? Would it even be worth it? 
 It was a strange impasse; I didn’t want to settle into the house, because that came with the reality that my old life was old, but staying in a house that was partially packed away felt too unwelcoming. And there wasn’t a comfortable middle ground, unless I went and camped out in the woods across the street and pretended this was some weekend getaway. 
 I walked around the pile of boxes in the kitchen, dishes and cooking scribbled in rough chicken scratch. In Dad’s chicken scratch. I had to admit, the place was nice; a decent amount of space across from the kitchen countertops for a dining table, a spacious living room across the way with its own built-in bookcase and an alcove above the fireplace for a television. Quaint, comfy living. 
 My eyes froze as I looked across the hall from the wall where I was leaned: there, in the wall, were little etchings, knicks from a knife's edge cutting into the corner and leaving behind a thin line. Each one had it’s own scrawl above it, and I moved closer to try and read what it said. 
 Delsin. Reggie. Delsin, Reggie, Delsin, Reggie, Delsin, Reggie repeating again and again from a point higher than I was tall, all the way down to just two feet above the ground. Reggie — that was Dad’s brother, wasn’t it? My namesake. Big brother, if height was anything to go by. Each name had a number in parentheses next to it, ranging from (6 months old) next to Dad’s first etch to the last, (17). Reggie’s stopped at (21).
 Seventeen. Wasn’t that how old he was when his parents passed away? That’s what Betty said. 
 He was my age when everything changed for him, too. No powers or anything, that came sometime later; but his world just flipped on his head at this age, too. He…his pep talks and such, was he talking from a place of understanding and not just being a supportive Dad? 
 There was a slamming sound from the front of the house, followed by the quiet echo of Dad calling our names. I glanced out of the window; Dad was coming out of the truck, two full sized beds strapped down in the back and a bunch of grocery bags under their slanted stance. 
 I turned to look down the hallway, waiting for Brent and calling out his name when he didn’t appear. There was a sniff, and then he began walking down the hall, face splotched red. He’d been crying, hard, and didn’t look at all in the mood to talk about it. 
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Dad and Betty came back not only with beds and nonperishables, but a lot of other changes; electricity was set to be on by morning, and they managed to settle something with our schools for our exams to be proctored at Dad’s Alma Mater that following Monday. 
Unfortunately, it also came with the reveal that our last semester would be online. 
 “I can’t have you two out of my sight yet,” Dad said. “It sucks and I know you hate it, probably feels overbearing, but I want to make sure you two stay safe.” 
 Betty had scored us more furniture, to be moved variously throughout the holiday break. “I’ll come help unpack your old things, Delsin, and we’ll get these kids their own rooms downstairs,” she assured us. “Teens need their privacy.” 
 But like every positive, there was a downside to her help: everyone now knew Delsin Rowe had returned.
 The first bit of harassment came in the form of old friends, Dad’s high school buddies and old band mates fitting themselves as well as they could around the beds propped up in the living room and checking on their pal. Then came the older citizens, seniors with tales of how Dad saved them all after the DUP escape by draining the concrete from their very bones — and gifts of their own. Homemade meals in tin foil trays, still warm, toiletries I hadn’t even considered. Some old lady in a walker handed me a bulk box of menstrual pads and I contemplated evaporating then and there, with how much they all snickered. 
 But luckily, Dad caught on to the embarrassment, shooing people off on premises of been a long day and need to study for make up exams, closing the door and locking it for good measure. “I’ll make you two a copy of the key soon,” Dad said, turning to look at us. “I’m gonna set us up in the living room too — just for tonight. I don’t want you to freeze or anything,”
 He helped get us situated in the living room, ripping the plastic cover off of the couch and fitting sheets to the beds as Brent and I ate dinner at the kitchen counter. Lukewarm chicken casserole. Delicious. The house was being rapidly plunged into a dim darkness as the sun set, the only light coming from the fireplace. “Pilgrim living,” Brent muttered in between bites. I snorted. 
 “Well, at least you’ll be better off than the pilgrims,” Dad said, leaning back on his knees. “Are your phones charged?” 
 Oh, this was gonna be fun to explain. “I, uh,” Brent stuttered, unable to even look at Dad. “I may have…broken it?” 
 “Broken?” Dad asked. “Did it happen in that alley?” 
 “No,” Brent laid his plastic fork on the counter. “I…I sort of…lodged it into a wall?” 
 Dad blinked, not speaking for a moment and only able to repeat, “You lodged it into a wall?” when he finally could. 
 “The wall in that room in the Longhouse,” 
 “Is that what that was?” Dad asked, barking out some sort of laugh of disbelief. “Betty said you said you were going to help patch it up but I just thought you were being nice.” 
 “I didn’t mean to,” Brent rushed to assure Dad, “It just — I was angry at Tommy, and I meant to sort of just throw it away from me but it—“ 
 “Tommy?” Dad interrupted, “What does Tommy have to do with this?”
Brent sighed, leaning against the counter and beginning to explain to Dad all Tommy said, both in that school wide and their personal chat, something I hadn’t even known about till now. Slurs, accusations. He blamed me for getting caught and said Dad set everything up to kill some other regular people again, “just like how he disabled my grandpa." Refused to believe we didn’t know this whole time. How he ganged every bigot in the school against us, throwing in what I told him from my phone call without ratting me out. I’d have to thank him for that later. 
 Dad just shook his head, not saying anything once Brent trailed off, fists clenched at his side and seething too much to form words. “Brent, I…” Dad finally started, trailing off, sighing when the words couldn’t come. 
 “Tommy was always sort of…’middle ground’,” Brent said, putting sarcasm in his air quotes, “But he — we’ve known each other since he moved to Chapman! You’d think he’d understand…he’d know that I wouldn’t — that you wouldn’t…” 
 Brent just ended his jumbled tangent with a growl, moving to face the casserole and snatching his fork, stabbing rather violently at the food. The prongs immediately snapped under the weight of his anger, shatterings of black plastic peppering the food. “God damnit,” Brent hissed. 
I silently passed him a solo cup, motioning towards the cooler one of Dad’s old friends brought for temporary use that was full of snow and 2 liters of soda, beginning to section off the bit of food that had the prongs littered throughout. I hadn’t noticed Dad moved from the living room until he was beside me, holding a trash bag open for me to scoop up the ruined bits and dump them away. “Humans, we’re…well, we’re assholes.” He snorted. “Always have been. Since the dawn of time, literally all we’ve done is pick some group of people to bully around. Jews, Africans, Indigenous — now it’s Conduits. There’s always gonna be someone who finds a simple fault with you, no matter what you do.” 
Pulling out an empty drawer and hanging the bag by its tie on it, he turned, meeting my eyes and then shifting to glance at Brent’s back. “I don’t want you to ever give a shit about what those type of people say. They’re always on the wrong side of history, and they always will be.” 
I knew that already. History was full of people trying to make others the enemy. Blaming them, targeting them. And hell, I thought Brent knew that too. There were more times than I could count where he went up to bat for Conduits, starting arguments mid-class, getting into fights. Our school district was inclusive, and there were multiple times Brent fought on the side of a Conduit kid so they didn’t have to use their powers and end up on national news for putting a bully in their place. For defending themselves. He always said it wasn’t fair how, no matter what, they’d be seen as the bad guy.
Guess that’s what he was feeling now — being the villain. Even when all he did was protect himself, try to protect me. The fact that Winter Formal starts in thirty two minutes probably wasn’t helping his attitude. 
“Enough of that.” Dad shook his head, grabbing a fork and beginning to dig into the food himself. “No phone for you, that’s alright. I was going to suggest some kind of app but it’s okay, we can do something else, I’m sure there’s games we can play with two phones.” 
I cringed. “So uh,” I said, laying down my fork and avoiding Dad’s gaze. “I may have…tossed our phones into the Sound…”  
Brent spun to look at me, echoing Dad as they both yelled, “You what?”
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sapphicwings · 9 months
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So I’ve Been Gone For Awhile…
It’s been over three years since I last posted anything here. A lot has happened since then, not going to get into anything really, it’s not overly important to mention. I guess I might consider picking this blog back up again? There definitely isn’t going to be any proper upload schedule since it’s pretty much just a place for me to dump my art if I feel like it. So if, or when I do eventually get to posting things again, it’ll probably be inconsistent between posts, especially since I can’t always be active on this account due to outside life things. Being an adult is fun like that. But I thought I’d just give whoever is reading this a heads up that I’m still here, even if it’s not all the time. So yeah, this thing might actually get used for its intended purpose now. Yay. Anyway, that’s my ‘coming back’ announcement if you will, I might upload something in the morning. Depends on how I’m feeling. However it is late where I am, and I have work in the morning so this is all you’ll hear from me tonight. Goodnight everyone!
- Sapphic
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thatbigee · 2 years
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Now playing: Alone again (naturally) by Gilbert O’Sullivan. What a lonely little bean
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edsloveydove · 2 years
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I Have Always Seen You
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pairing: eddie munson x chubby female reader
summary: of course the boy i've known since 3rd grade, the one i've loved since 7th grade, would be the one to break my heart. i never thought he would be the one to fix it too...
warnings: bullying, fatphobia, use of the word pig towards reader once, falling off a bike, blood and cut knee from falling off said bike, self-doubt and sort of self-hate i guess, cursing, mentality that reader wouldn't be 'missed' (idk if thats a warning but just in case), no use of y/n, underage drinking, reader has an older brother for sake of the story (i gave him a really basic/common name), thoughts and flashbacks are in italics!! nickanames/pet names (shortcake, princess, honey, sweetheart), reader is at least a bit shorter than eddie, very poorly edited, talks of the demobats and upside down, again like very badly edited, lemme know if i missed anything, i'm sure i have!
word count: 9k+
notes: my first fic guys and it turned into this 9,000 word monster! wild! anyway, this might be trash i honestly don't know, i have no perception of it, pls let me know what you think!! also, this story is told in first person point of view so it uses 'i, me, myself' and all that, idk how i feel about it though tbh. uuuuh, enjoy!!
DON'T REPOST MY WRITING OR SHARE IT TO OTHER PLATFORMS (including mentioning it in tiktok comment sections and stuff like that pls) THIS IS MY WRITING, DON'T STEAL IT PLEASE!
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The sweltering midwestern heat was hitting Hawkins, Indiana early this year. School had only been out for a few weeks and it was already hot enough to have the city pool passing the max capacity damn near every day. 
Luckily for me, I had been able to successfully avoid going every time my friends have asked me to join them. Until now. 
“C’mon, it’s gonna be so much fun! Steve’s parents are gone again, like usual, so it’ll just be us and a few other friends!” Robin tries to convince me through the phone.  
“Robin, I never believe ‘just us and a few friends’, because it is ne-”
“It’s never just a few friends, I know. But this time it really will be just a few people. Like, actually just a few people. After everything that happened during spring break and all that, Steve really just wants the main guys there. There’s not gonna be any crazy partying, we’re gonna swim and relax, that’s it.”
“I don’t know, I might be busy tomorrow,” I attempt an excuse. 
“Then we’ll move it to when you’re free. We really want you there, you haven’t gone to any of our movie nights or other hangouts yet,” Robin points out while saying my name softly. “Is it something else? Is there someone you don’t want there?” 
Robin isn’t entirely wrong, there is something else that’s keeping me from joining my friends. And technically it does have to do with someone, but not in the way she thinks. And that someone happens to be none other than the Eddie Munson. 
I’ve known Eddie for many years. My older brother was one of his best friends while growing up having met in elementary school. James was in the grade above Eddie, and the one to introduce him to D&D, eventually passing on the title of Hellfire Club President to him as well. I was always in the background, hoping my brother would let me learn how to play just so I could impress him and his friends. 
While they were occupying the basement, getting pizza and bottles of Coke every other Saturday for their stupid role-playing game, I was in my room reading trashy romance novels and out riding my bike to the library in hopes to seem cool when I came back late at night. 
By the time I got to high school, it was James’ second to last year before he went off to college in Chicago on his big-shot football scholarship he managed to snag before he was even a senior. And yes, James was a Hellfire nerd and a star-athlete, so no one messed with their little club while he was there. Eddie was in his sophomore year, already antsy to graduate and move on to greater things. 
I was just the outcast that didn’t even have a group. It didn’t matter that I was the captain of the football team’s little sister, I never made any friends because I never tried to. 
Needless to say, yeah, Eddie and I had some history and maybe things got brought up when Vecna was trying to take over the world that might have been better left untouched. And maybe the idea of seeing him again brings butterflies to my stomach while also making my gut sink. 
“No, it's not that. I just…I guess I just haven’t been feeling it since…since yanno,” I say, half heartedly. 
Robin voices her understanding and tells me to just call back when I make a decision on if I would go or not. I promise her I will and hang up the phone. It’s not like I didn’t want to see them, because truly I did but it also wasn’t a complete lie when I told her I hadn’t been feeling quite right since the Venca situation. 
It was a really traumatic and horrible experience for everyone involved, and really astonishing that everyone made it out alive. 
‘Maybe I should just go…but what if it’s horrible? I know none of my lovely friends would ever say anything to me about it, but I just can’t stand the thought of them seeing me in a swimsuit, especially Eddie.’ I shake my head at the thought. ‘What a stupid thing to think, god, we all nearly died and I’m worried about my stomach in a swimsuit, how shallow is that? I guess some things just never change, no matter the life threatening situation…’
I go about my nighttime routine, washing my face and making sure no lights have been left on around the house. I say goodnight to my mother and fall right asleep. Or, I try to at least. 
But my mind keeps me up for much longer than I would have hoped. 
‘It would be a good time, though. Have a couple of beers, spend the night in one of Steve’s nice guest bedrooms. I wouldn’t even have to swim, I could just say I’m on my period or something. Ugh, but Robin knows that I always swam even on my period when we were younger. I’ll just wear a suit under my clothes and pretend the water is too cold even though it’s the peak of summer? Yeah, that should work. I can’t imagine anyone will care that much anyway if I’m not in the pool with them. I really do miss my friends.’
The next morning I call Robin and tell her I’ll be there tonight. She squeals in delight and tells me how happy she’ll be to see me.
Now it was just time to pick out an outfit, should be simple enough, right? 
Well, after leaving it to the last second and now only having about 15 minutes to get to Steve’s when it’s already a five minute drive, having half of my closet strewn about my room doesn’t seem like a very good place to be at. 
I finally sigh and opt for a swim suit from the summer before that I never wore, a green one piece with a wrapped sort of style for the top portion, and black cut off shorts and an old t-shirt that fits comfortably loose over it. 
I grab my keys and kiss my mother on the forehead, reminding her I wouldn’t be back till the next morning. 
Several shouts of my name reach my ears once I reach Steve’s backyard, it does bring a small smile to my face knowing I’ve been missed just as much as I’ve missed them. 
“You’re actually here, I’m so happy to see you!” Nancy says pulling me in for a hug, Robin joining on top, squishing us all together. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s been a while. I’m sorry.” 
“No, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s been a really hard year,” Nancy says sincerely. 
Steve comes up for a hug next, squishing me for dear life, I could feel him about to try to lift me up and spin me around so I pull away rather abruptly. 
“Alright, alright, it’s nice to see you, too, Steve.”
He answers with a kiss to the cheek and makes me promise that I’ll come to the next hangout and every one after that. I see Jonathan and he waves with a small awkward smile. 
Finally my eyes meet Eddie’s. 
~
“James! James! C’mon, come outside and play with me!” It was nearing the end of summer before James would go back to school for his 8th grade year and I would be going into 6th grade. 
“Not right now, can’t you see that I’m busy? I’m too old to play outside anyway,” my brother rolls his eyes. 
I hop down the stairs so I can see the basement fully now. Spotting all of my brother's friends huddled around our dinky old card table while he has books and notepads sprawled on his end. 
“Well, can I at least play your game with you guys? I’m sure I can learn it fast!” I beam, faking confidence in hopes to sway them. 
“No offense, shortcake, but it’s probably too confusing for you. Besides, we’re right in the middle of a campaign, it would be too hard to add in another character out of the blue right now,” Eddie says with a chuckle, like the idea that I could play is too amusing to even consider. 
Naturally, I take full offense. 
“Fine! You’re all so annoying, I didn’t even want to play with you anyway. Especially not with someone who has a buzzcut!” I stick my tongue out at them and run away, but not before I can hear them laughing. 
Sitting alone in my room I know it was childish of me, especially for my age. James was probably right, he was too old to be outside playing tag with his sister. I was too old to be throwing a tantrum like this over some friends wanting to spend time with each other without one’s little sister hanging around. 
~
“Hey, Munson.” 
Eddie nods his head in greeting and goes back to talking with Jonathan. Well, that’s honestly about as much interaction as I expected to get from him tonight. 
“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Robin exclaims, dragging you toward the cooler filled with ice and drinks, I grab a Sprite to start with. 
2 hours later and my Sprite is still mostly untouched and it’s now gone lukewarm. The others are in the pool splashing and playing chicken, I sit on the side with my feet dangling into the shallow end, watching as they fool around and laugh. Giggles and quiet laughs leave my lips on occasion with them. 
“You should get in, the water’s really nice!” Nancy says. 
“Yeah! Strip for us and get in here,” Robin adds, making everyone laugh. 
“You guys just want to get me out of my clothes, don’t you?” I play it off, shaking my head slightly. Giggles erupt again. I excuse myself to the bathroom after pulling my legs out of the pool. 
Closing and locking the door behind me I look at myself in the mirror.
‘I should just get in the pool, shouldn’t I? I do feel like I’m missing out on what could be a lot of fun. And it wouldn’t hurt to wash all this sweat off of me. I could just keep my shirt on, I have an extra change of clothes as backup anyway.’ 
I finish my business and leave the bathroom. 
After turning the corner to go back to the pool I run straight into something firm, nearly being toppled over before hands are at my forearms to keep me from doing so. Seeing dark curls fanning across this “something’s” shoulders and several patches of dark ink on its bare skin, I immediately know I have just run head first into Eddie. Great. 
“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I murmur, keeping my eyes pointed down. 
“It’s alright, shortcake. No harm done right?” he says, adjusting his head to try to catch my eyes. 
I nod my head and pull away from his hands that still rest gently on my arms. 
“Hey, hey, what’s up? You’re so quiet tonight, is everything okay?” 
I nod again and pull away harder, rushing out the door to get back to the pool, ignoring his call of my name and a request to “just hold on a second.” 
Pulling my shorts off quickly, I step up to the pool and begin to wade into the water before Robin stops me. 
“Your shirt! You don’t want the chlorine to ruin it!” 
My heart thumps, thinking of how I can handle this. My mouth opens to say something but before I can, Robin cuts me off. 
“Just take it off, no one’s gonna make fun of you for being in your swimsuit and if they do I’ll beat them up for you and then we’ll all collectively agree to throw them out of the group. And don’t try to tell me that’s not what it is, I can see it all over your face. You’re allowed to have fun and go swimming, I don’t like to see you excluding yourself, no matter the reason,” she says. 
Of course she would see right through any lie I could throw her way. That’s just how Robin is. No matter how clumsy she can be, she really is observant. Not only that, but she’s right. Nobody cares and if they do, that’s their problem. 
I rip off my shirt and dive into the pool trying to minimize the time in which people could see me without it. Immediately finding Steve’s legs I yank his ankles so he falls backwards into the water with an unnecessarily loud screech. 
It makes the rest of us laugh loudly until Steve comes back up for air with a thirst for vengeance. He chases me around the pool, not for long considering he’s such a strong swimmer and I’m really not trying very hard to get away from him, and catches me easily. His arms wrap around my waist and I cringe as his hands nudge my stomach, scolding myself for the action right after. Steve doesn’t care about my stomach, if he did, he wouldn’t be my friend. 
“That really wasn’t very nice,” Steve says and starts lifting me out of the water. 
“Steve, hey. Steve! Steve, no, I’m too heavy! Stevie, no! Bad Stevie! Bad!”
I’m thrown in the air as far as he can get me and I splash back down. 
I come up spluttering for breath, “Oh, you are so dead, Harrington!” 
All at once the rest of us are splashing and dunking him over and over, until he pleads mercy. Shrieks and squeals of glee and what might be considered laughter fill the air as everyone gets their turn being thrown into the water. 
Eddie comes back out from the house and cannonballs in the middle of our ‘hate on Steve’ fest. 
Eventually I end up back on the side of the pool in my shirt with just my feet in, this time so I can enjoy a fresh soda and mellow out a little, not to make myself smaller. Nancy and Jonathan have called it a night already, leaving Steve, Eddie, and Robin in or by the pool with me. 
“I never noticed this scar? Where did you get it?” Robin points to my knee. 
The nice old librarian put a hand on my shoulder gently to get my attention, telling me the library would be closing soon and it was best I head home, I hadn’t realized how late it already was. I pack everything together as fast as I can, quickly saying goodnight and unlocking my bike, trying my hardest to race home before the sun sets. 
The wheels of my rickety bicycle pump faster and faster and in my haste I bump over a high curb without realizing, flying off and onto the pavement. 
Tears spring to my eyes as air is sucked in through my teeth. I take a look at my knee and see a small dribble of blood seeping down it, my hands have little scrapes all over, spotted with little beads of red. 
Not the worst I could have gotten from a bike incident, but bad enough to keep me from being able to ride the rest of the way home. It’s not far, but so much for getting back before the street lights turn on. 
About 15 minutes later I make it into our backyard, dropping the two wheeled contraption from hell into the grass and stumbling through the door, all while sniffling back sobs. 
“Oh hey, shortcake! James was starting to get worried about you, you really shouldn’t walk alone at night yanno? Next time ju-” Eddie cuts himself off after seeing the state I’m in. Of course he had to be the one to see me like this. Anyone else could have been sent on snack duty tonight, but it just had to be him. 
“Oh my god, what happened?” He walks up to me. 
I shrug my shoulders and look away. I catch a glimpse of how bad my knees and hands have gotten on the walk home. Blood drips down both knees, my left knee looking significantly worse than the right. Dirt and pebbles cover my palms along with streaks of crimson. 
“Don’t do that, sweetheart. Tell me what happened? Please?” 
I still don’t say anything, fresh, hot tears welling up and already spilling out. I refuse to let stupid Eddie Munson see me like this, all it would be is more leverage to make fun of me with. 
He pulls my hand gently until I’m sitting down. Eddie appears in front of me with a first aid kit a few seconds later, carefully cleaning the gashes on my knees and scrapes on my hands with alcohol wipes. 
“Did,” he lets out a shuddering breath, “Did someone hurt you?” 
“No, god no Eddie, I just-, god this is so embarrassing, I just fell off of my bike is all,” I mutter, not really wanting him to hear the words as they come out. 
“S’ not embarrassing, stuff like that happens. I just wish you would have told me, here I was thinking the boys and I were going to have to band together to cause hell for our favorite little goblin,” he says. 
“You’re just trying to make me feel better, you guys wouldn’t really do that, I guess James might. Most of you guys don’t even really like me that much anyway, you don’t have to lie,” I whisper.
“That’s not true! Of course we would stick up for you!” he says like he’s shocked that I would think the opposite. 
I just shrug my shoulders again and wipe my eyes, still avoiding looking him in the face. 
“Here, let me help you up to your room. That can’t feel good to walk on,” he pulls me up from the chair and goes to lift me into his arms. I jump out of his reach before he can. 
“It’s okay, I got it. Just- you better get back downstairs before they start worrying. I’ll take care of myself.” 
“What? No, you’re basically limping just standing here, shortcake, let me carry you, it’ll only take a minute?” He phrases it like a question. Asking but also sort of demanding. 
The idea is actually really nice, and I want to say yes to it. It would be like when the prince finally gets the princess in all those books I’ve read. Eddie could sweep me off of my feet and whisk me away. 
But I know better, I know that he wouldn’t be able to lift me. Even if he could he wouldn’t so much as glance at me, again, I’m just his friend's little sister. Here only because this is where she lives. 
“No thank you, I’m okay. Go ahead and go back to your game, I’m sure they miss you already. Nobody would even notice if I were gone, but they’ll practically riot without you,” I try to cover how deeply I believe those words with a laugh as I wobble away and halfway up the stairs before he can stop me. 
~
“Um, I guess I don’t really remember. It’s probably just one of those super old scars you forget are even there,” I say, even though I recall the night I got it vividly. 
Eddie’s eyes meet mine from the other side of the pool and they look almost…hurt at the possibility that I might not remember that day. Well, he didn’t get to feel hurt about it. He made it clear that he doesn’t care how I feel when we were in the upside down. 
“Hmmm, yeah, I have, like, tons of those actually,” Robin says, “This one is from my cat, Steven, and this one-” 
“You have a cat named Steven?” I cut her off. She gives me a look that says ‘duh’. 
“But what about Steve? Like human Steve? Was this before or after you became friends? And how has this never come up before?” I practically shriek. 
“Believe me, it has come up before. And yes, before she tells you otherwise, it was after we became friends,” Steve says, settling down beside me while throwing his arm around my shoulders. 
“That is not true! I found him outside the mall before we became friends! We may have been working together at that point, but we were not friends yet!” Robin shouts. 
“We were friends, she’s just embarrassed that she named her cat after me,” Steve whispers in my ear, making me giggle like a schoolgirl. 
Even though I’ve never seen Steve romantically, he still had the ability to reduce me to feet kicking and hair twirling. 
“What’s wrong with you, Munson?” Steve asks, noticing the scowl covering his face that usually carries a bright smile. 
Eddie shakes his head, “Nothing man, just thinking about how I don’t have a beer in my hand right now.” 
A call of my name breaks my gaze away from the mirror. 
“You almost ready? It’s time to go!” James yells, entering my room. “Hey! You look great! It almost feels like I’m sending you off to prom already,” he says wiping fake tears from his cheeks. 
I shove him in the chest and readjust my hair and the straps to my dress for what feels like the millionth time. It was a rather simple looking thing considering I had to sew it myself since the only dresses even near my size were too far out of theme for the 8th grade Winter Snowball or they were simply just ugly. 
Light blue and white fabric lays delicately across my shoulders and down to my knees, matched with white slip on shoes and silver snowflake jewelry. 
“You look really nice, seriously. I know how nervous you are, but it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” my brother assures me, slapping my shoulder much harder than necessary to push me towards the door, “Now it’s time to get your butt moving, let’s go!” 
When we arrive at the dance I immediately catch eyes with Robin and speed walk to her. James goes wherever he's needed for volunteering. 
After about 45 minutes the first slow song of the night comes on as I sit contently by myself at the far end of the bleachers. I wasn’t sad to not be dancing with anyone, I was honestly sort of relieved that I hadn’t had to dance all night. But watching all the couples on the dance floor does make my heart ache just a little. 
“I haven’t seen you dance all night, what’s that about?” 
“Why are you here?” 
“Ouch, shortcake, I don’t even get a hello? And what, I can’t come volunteer with your brother?” Eddie says, fake hurt painting his face. 
“It just doesn’t seem like you, I guess.” 
He sits down next to me leaving at least enough room for another person to sit between us. He hands me an unopened juice box. 
“Seriously though, why aren’t you out there? You don’t have someone you wanna get cozied up with on the dancefloor?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me in his typical annoying Eddie way. 
I roll my eyes, as my stomach twists with shame. He’s mocking me, isn’t he? 
“Nope. I’m okay with it though. Honestly I was perfectly happy just sitting here. Until you showed up that is,” I say with a shrug. 
“Oh really? Well, gosh, who made you such a sour fart?” he laughs as I push him in the arm. 
“Alright, c’mon then. Pity party is over, let's go do this,” Eddie holds out his hand and raises a brow when all I do is look at it confused. “Let’s go dance, shortcake, you should at least once before it’s over.” 
“Um- I-” I’m at a loss for words. There’s no way he’s being anything but friendly but my stupid heart skips too many beats to count. 
“Here, I need to go check on James and see how the other volunteers are doing. While I take care of that, I want you to sit here and decide if you want to dance with me or not. Of course, I won’t make you do anything you don’t wanna, but if you’re up for it, I’m here,” he says, bouncing back to the drinks and snacks table. I smile giddily at his back and stay sitting. 
By the time the last song of the night played I was still in the exact same spot I had been for nearly 2 hours, waiting for Eddie to come back. 
Immediately after he left, I knew I wanted to dance with him. Of course I would. I’ve known him since I was in 4th grade and have had a crush on him for a year now. All I had to do was wait a few minutes and I would get to live out a fairytale dream. Dancing across the room in a flowey dress with the guy I liked. Of course it would be strictly platonic on his end but it could mean something more to me silently. 
So there I sat, with my empty juice box, tapping my foot in excitement. The first slow song ended and there was no sign of Eddie, but I was sure he just caught up with volunteer work. After the next 3 songs played I began to doubt myself slightly. 
‘Maybe he hadn’t actually wanted to dance like it had seemed. But he looked really sincere when asking me. Yeah. And even if Eddie is just a regular teenage boy, and he can definitely be a jerk sometimes, he’s much sweeter and kinder than most. He wouldn’t leave me hanging like that. He’ll be back any minute now, I’m sure.’ 
By the time 11 more songs had played, I knew he wasn’t coming back. Tears were smearing my mascara while I sat as still as possible on the bleachers, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.  
Of course he wasn’t being serious. He just wanted to tease me like usual, the only difference was this time it went too far. This time he was cruel about it. He could have just told me he didn’t mean it. Instead he strung me along and had me sitting here like a lovesick puppy for an hour straight. 
Who was I kidding? Eddie couldn’t be interested in me. He was my brother's best friend and had seen me grow up. I was just his friend’s chubby little sister. Wearing a dress that doesn’t sparkle and shine like all the others’, sitting alone and pouting like a baby. 
He probably thought I would crush his feet if I accidentally stepped on them. 
After persevering through another hour of horror, James finds me in my corner ready to head home. 
“All ready to go?” he asks jovially like he always seems to be. 
“Yes.” 
James picks up on my mood right away, but I’m already halfway to the car before he can say anything. 
“Okay, uh, I gotta clean up some stuff still but here,” he throws me his car keys when I turn back around, “Go get the car started yeah?” 
I nod and head out to the car when I see Eddie jogging up to the doors after me. My steps speed up hoping for all hell to avoid him. He calls my name but I don’t look back or slow down, in fact, the only thing it succeeds in doing is making me walk faster. 
My hands shake as I try to slip the key into the driver’s side door handle. Warm hands settle on my wrists. 
“Holy shit, I am so sorry, shortcake. I was so excited to dance with you, I really was, I just got caught up in helping another volunteer with something and lost track of time. I didn’t mean to forget you there all alone, I swear on everything. I know how excited you were for tonight and I am so sorry. I didn’t realize how long I had been gone until everyone started leaving and then I saw you get up and realized what I’d done, please forgive me,” he rambles off almost too quickly to understand. 
I expect tears but all I get is a deep rooted feeling of shame and anger. Ashamed by the fact that I thought he would come back and angry at myself for sitting there hopelessly when I could’ve danced with Robin at least. 
“Please, look at me. Please tell me you at least got to dance with someone else, right? You had a good time? Please tell me you at least had fun,” he pleads. 
A scoff escapes me as I whirl on him. 
“No, I didn’t dance with someone else, I sat there and I waited for you. I waited for you the whole time, and I guess that was my first mistake wasn’t it, huh? I believed you. I really thought you meant what you said to me.” 
I rip my arms out of hold. 
“You know what’s funny, too? I was actually having a really good time before you showed up. I told you as much earlier, even. I was perfectly happy to sit by myself, considering that’s how I spend most of my time anyway. I was really enjoying just watching the lights and the twirl of dresses, alone. I was overjoyed to just sit and watch Robin dance with her friends. And you had to come and- and lie to me! You made me feel special for fuck’s sake.” 
His eyes flash with guilt and he must have finally realized how much he hurt me. 
“I get that I’m not the prettiest and skinniest girl and I know that most of those kids don’t even know my name, but you do! You know me. You know me and you still forgot about me,” I pause and take a deep breath, “Do you remember what I said that night when I fell off my bike?” 
Eddie shakes his head.
“Nobody would even notice if I were gone. Nobody, not even you, I guess. You forgot about me not even 5 minutes after making me feel like the most special girl in that whole damn room. And that was really mean, Eddie. I hope you, at least, have a good rest of your night,” I step into the car and start the engine.
Steve plops down next to me holding 4 cans of beer, one for each of us. 
“I’m really happy I came tonight, thank you, for inviting me and not forgetting about me after I kinda disappeared,” I say quietly. 
Steve pats my back while Robin says something along the lines of ‘duh, of course we would never forget about you.’ 
Eddie stays silent, watching me closely. 
I put my drink on the ground beside me and lay on my back, pulling my shirt down to make sure it covers me still. I start to count the stars, just to keep my brain occupied. My eyes drift shut, my mind choosing to visit yet another memory tonight.  
It was James’ graduation party. All we had were a couple tables set up with snacks in the backyard and a bonfire, nothing too fancy. I made a simple ‘Happy Graduation!’ banner to hang across the gate for everyone to see, too. 
I’m wearing a plain white sundress and converse, I knew I would be running back and forth from the backyard and the kitchen too much for heels to be sensible. Making sure there’s enough drinks and food and ice for everyone was my job tonight. The sun is still up, melting the ice and warming every drink out here. 
James calls my name softly, “You can quit running around and tending to every little need. Come hang out with everyone for a little bit. Please?” 
I set down the metal tub where drinks are kept and walk over to sit around the fire with him and his usual friends. New faces have popped up over the years, but many stayed the same. Danny Williams, a junior who may or may not have been my first kiss when we happened to both show up at the same party and ended up playing spin the bottle together, Jason Carver, a freshman who appeared promising on the football team before switching to basketball instead, Michael Brown, a senior who’s been in the little Hellfire Group since the beginning. There are several others I don’t recognize and even more that I do. 
Of course, Eddie is there too. I just haven’t really…acknowledged him in…in a really long time. 
I haven’t necessarily been giving him the silent treatment, but I stopped entertaining the conversations he always seemed to start with me. 
Danny greets me with a smile as he sits down next to me. He even pulls his lawn chair a little closer towards mine, grinning slightly while doing so. 
“What can I do for you Danny?” I say. 
“Oh nothing. I just wanted to come sit by you, is all.” Huh. That…that sort of stumps me. 
I didn’t think Danny would even recognize me at the party, and I’m honestly even more surprised that he wanted to talk to me after kissing me. We make small conversation, butting into the rest of the group's discussion once in a while to add an opinion. 
Night had fallen and marshmallows and graham crackers were brought out for s'mores, as well as a couple of 12 packs of beer that someone had brought with them. 
I knew James had gone to several parties to celebrate winning a football game where there had been alcohol, or even just little get-togethers where it was provided. I guess now that it was only soon-to-be seniors and high school graduates, minus myself, left at the party it was time for that portion of the night to begin. 
I stand up to go in and let the others have their fun. 
“Where’re you going?” Danny asks, grabbing my hand lightly, looking up with wide puppy dog eyes. His eyes are a pretty green color. Brown eyes have always been my favorite, though. 
“Oh, I was just going to head in and call it a night. That way you all could have your fun without worrying about me dragging you down.” 
My comment makes his brows furrow, his mouth opens to say something, but he’s cut off. 
“You can stay out here, you know. No one minds having you here and I’m sure dear old James doesn’t care if you partake in a little drink, do you?” Eddie states. When did he get so close to us? 
“Even if I did care she gets to do what she wants, man. As long as you're safe about it, go for it,” James says, patting my back and taking one for himself. 
I’ve never drank before, but what the hell? James was leaving in just a few weeks now and this might be my only chance to try it. It’s certainly one of my last chances to hang out with everyone like this, at least for a while. 
After just 2 cans my tongue had already loosened significantly. Danny and I had been talking and giggling the whole time until he had gotten up to go home since his designated driver was ready to leave. 
“So, you and Danny seem pretty close suddenly?” Eddie phrases it like a question, wanting more information on the subject. 
Usually I would just hum in what could be taken as agreement or disinterest but my mind was running a little slower than normal. 
“Yeah, he and I kinda ran into each other at a party that I kinda crashed with Robin and we ended up, like, kissing and stuff,” I giggled. “But shhhh, don’t tell anyone else.”  
Eddie’s eyes widened, but that could have been a trick of the light. 
“What, uh, what do you mean by ‘and stuff’?” 
“Oh nothing. We just had one teensy tiny kiss because we were playing spin the bottle,” I say, not really thinking about it. 
Now I really know my brain is playing tricks on me because for a second I think Eddie looks pleased with this new knowledge that it didn’t really mean anything. 
“I feel like we haven’t really talked in a long time. What’s, uh, what’s been up, lately?” 
The question itself is awkward, but the way he struggled through it made it even more awkward. 
“I’ve been regular old me, Eddie. Nothing new or exciting. Although I did finish a book last night that really threw me through a loop. Oh! Actually there is something exciting! Do you wanna hear it?” 
He smiles, “Of course I do, shortcake.” 
“Well,” I take another sip of what is now my third beer, “William Gillar and Stacy Johnson have finally graduated!” I let out a squeal. 
Eddie just looks at me confused. 
“Do you have any idea what this means, Eds? I am finally free of those two asshats for the rest of my high school experience! Isn’t that amazing! I mean, it was easier to ignore this year than last year, but god I am so thrilled! No more mean notes from them calling me a pig in my locker and book bag, I can even finally find a table to sit at for lunch instead of hiding in Mr. Steerwell’s class,” I sigh happily. 
“Do you wanna know what else they did? This is so silly! They used to catch me on my walk home from school and steal my library books. How stupid is that? Why would you steal someone’s library books, right? They would run around with it so I would chase after them and then laugh at how my body would jiggle. How funny, right? I am so happy they’re gone, Eds, you have no idea.” 
Eddie has his mouth halfway open, anger flaring in his eyes. But that couldn’t be right, why would he care about a couple of high school bullies. 
“No, that’s not funny or silly. That’s been going on this whole time? And you didn’t tell anyone? God, why wouldn’t you tell someone, sweetheart? That’s horrible,” he says. 
“Meh, it’s just normal high school bully stuff.” I wave my hand in dismissal. 
“No, it’s not. Bullying shouldn’t even be considered normal anyway, but what they did to you? That goes far beyond normal, shortcake. I wish you would have said something. You know James and I would’ve taken care of them for you, right?” 
“Well, it doesn’t really matter now, does it. It’s too late,” I dismiss him and his misplaced worry. Honestly, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. He must have sensed how much I didn’t want to talk about it anymore because he dropped it. 
The night moves quickly after that, people say their goodbyes as James takes over clean up duty, considering I can barely stand up without nearly falling asleep. 
“Eddie, will you take her in and make sure she gets into bed okay?” James asks. 
That’s how I find myself being semi-dragged up the stairs to my bedroom and thrown on the mattress like a sack of potatoes. I don’t think Eddie was half as rough as my brain made it seem, to be honest. 
“Eds?” I whisper looking down at Eddie who’s kneeling by feet, gently taking my shoes off. 
“Yeah?” 
A couple beats of silence pass where I try to figure out how to word what I’m thinking. 
“I forgive you.” His movements stop. “I hope you know that. It’s probably such a silly little thing to even remember but I forgive you for forgetting to dance with me. I probably would have forgotten me, too. And…and I am sorry. I really am, for pushing you away so hard after. It was really stupid of me and I wish I hadn’t. Robin is a good friend, but you’re kind of the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend, I think. And I threw that all away over hurt feelings. Puberty, am I right?” I giggle. 
“S’ not silly to remember that. And you weren’t being stupid, sweetheart. You were hurt, you were protecting yourself and I don’t blame you for that. I should never have even walked away from you that night, but I did. And I don’t deserve your forgiveness for it,” Eddie says. 
More words mumble out of his mouth but none of it registers. Soon the noise stops and I feel Eddie’s warm hands pull my shoes all the way off, pushing my legs onto the bed and turning me to lay comfortably on my stomach. 
He must remember that’s my favorite way to sleep. 
My mind must really hate me because I swear, right before I fall asleep, I feel lips pressing gently to my forehead while a guitar calloused hand pushes hair away from my eyes. 
Of course, that didn’t actually happen because that’s not something Eddie would do. Right? Yeah, he wouldn’t…
A timid shake to my shoulder pulls me from my dozing. 
“Hey, shortcake, it’s time for you to go in.” 
There’s only one person who’s ever called me by that nickname. 
“Hm, it’s been a while since you’ve called me that…Eds.” 
I don’t know what made me decide to use his nickname. It never seemed right to use it after we drifted so far apart when James left. 
Eddie helps pull me to my feet. 
‘Hmmm, he’s always been a lot stronger than he looks. I barely even lifted myself up for him.’ 
“Oh, now you wanna be all friendly again? Using a nickname and everything? What’s this all about, huh?” Eddie says, steadying me with his calloused hands when my legs wobble.   
My brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Earlier, when we were in the house. You practically ran away from me. I mean, it’s just that we…we haven’t seen each other since we went into the upside down. I thought maybe,” he lets out a long breath. “Maybe things had changed or something, I guess. I was hoping we could talk about it after we all got out but you’ve been avoiding everyone.” 
“And why is that? Why do you think things would have changed Eddie?” 
~
“No! No, no, no! Edward Munson, if you cut that rope, so help me god!” 
“You know I always love when you use my full name.” 
And the bastard cuts the rope. 
The next thing I know, he’s out of the trailer doing something entirely too heroic and the exact amount of stupid he always is. 
Before I can think I shove Dustin out of the trailer, the one not in the upside down, and send him to go help Lucas. 
“No! We need to help him! Can’t you see that he needs help!” 
“I know Dustin, I know. That’s why I’m staying here. But I need you to go find Lucas and Erica and check on Max. There are others who still need our help, Henderson. Please, listen to me and go help them.” 
I turn back into the trailer before he can disagree again, locking the door to make sure he doesn’t follow. Without second guessing, I jump through the portal, landing somewhat safely on my side. 
I manage to find a bike and just a few minutes later I’m riding as fast as I can towards the bat tornado that Eddie stands in the middle of. 
“Eddie you dumb jerk, you better not be getting yourself killed!” I scream at the top of my lungs. His eyes catch mine as a look of horror crosses his face. 
“Why the hell did you follow me? I specifically told you not to!” 
“Yeah, well I specifically told you not to cut the rope!” 
We fight off the bats as best we can until they all suddenly drop to the ground. 
Eddie and I stand breathing hard, our brains trying to catch up with all of what just happened. Eddie turns to me, a grin beginning to form. 
I punch him as hard as I can in the chest. And then I do it again, and then again and again, until I’m pounding my fists against his chest over and over again. 
“What the hell?! Honey, stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!” 
I choke on hiccupping sobs as hot tears overflow past my lashes. 
“Don’t you ever do something like that again! Ever!” 
Eddie grabs my wrists to keep me from hitting him anymore. I keep trying until I realize his hold on me is too strong. 
“Princess, you gotta stop. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore, please stop.” 
He wraps his arms around me, stroking the back of my hair, pressing soft kisses to my forehead. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.” 
“That was not okay, Eddie. Not okay!” I tell him looking up into his eyes. 
“I’m sorry, I really am. But look, we did it!” 
He looks down at me thoughtfully. His eyes flit down to my lips. My breath catches. 
He couldn’t possibly be… 
His lips are on mine. And Eddie Munson is kissing me. 
Both of his hands are on the side of my face, rubbing his thumbs softly across the apples of my chubby cheeks. 
I pull away, “What do you think you’re doing?” 
“Kissing my shortcake,” he says with a smirk while I grimace at the phrase. He laughs at the face I make and kisses me again. 
I kiss back harder this time, getting lost in all things Eddie. The way his hair feels soft even despite being so dirty. His lips are somehow minty. He smells like smoke and old books. 
My heart soars. This has to be proof, then. Eddie must think of me the way I think of him. I can’t imagine ever kissing someone with this much passion if it didn’t mean something more. I smile into the kiss.
Footsteps sound behind where we stand and Eddie pushes me off of him, placing several feet between us. I look at him confused and hurt by his sudden change in behavior. He refuses to meet my eyes. He even wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, looking straight ahead at Steve, Robin and Nancy appearing in front of us. 
Oh.
He’s too embarrassed to let his new friends see him with the big girl? Is that what it is? Does he suddenly regret kissing me? Was it just a heat of the moment type of deal, then? I was the closest human thing, so he settled on me for a little ‘yay the world didn’t end’ kiss?
In my whole life, I don’t think anything has hurt as much as that did. 
~
An uncomfortable amount of silence fills the air.. 
“Things got weird after James left, but you know that. We both felt it, even though we tried to ignore it. Jason started to act like he ran the damn school even though we were friends at one point. I never saw you because we were never at your house anymore. Then I got held back and we basically had every class together. Then I got held back again and you graduated. I missed you. I really, really missed you,” he says the last part quietly. Almost like he was afraid for me to hear it. I hold back a scoff.
“I missed you so much, it’s ridiculous. I just wanted my shortcake back. My sweetheart, my princess, my honey,” he laughs to himself, I stay quiet. “God, I was such a jerk to you growing up. And not because ‘I had a crush on you’ because that’s bullshit, guys shouldn’t be allowed to be mean to girls with the excuse of it being ‘romantic’. I wish I had treated you better, been a little friendlier. I never realized how much you meant to me until your brother’s graduation.” 
He takes his eyes away from his feet to glance at me. 
“Do you remember that night? It was your first time drinking and you got so sleepy I had to tuck you into bed. You had told me about you and Danny at that party and it made me jealous. I’d never really felt jealous before, certainly not like that at least. It made me realize how deep my feelings for you went.” 
I remain silent, partly because I didn’t want to interrupt him when this is the most honest and vulnerable he’s ever been, out of respect, and partly because I was utterly confused and angered by what he was saying and claiming.
“You forgave me for leaving you alone at the dance, even though I never deserved to be forgiven for that. I didn’t even know how badly you were being bullied at school until you told me, that’s not a person who deserves to be forgiven.” 
A soft laugh and a pause. “I guess what I’m saying is…is I wish things had, in fact, changed after Vecna. And I know, that’s probably not something you want to hear because I know it’s not the same for you but I figure if you’re not gonna talk to me anyway, I may as well tell you, right?” 
He takes a step towards the house but I don’t let him get far. 
“What do you mean it’s ‘not the same for me’?” 
“Well obviously you’ve been ignoring me since I kissed you so, clearly it wasn’t something you wanted.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And that’s okay. I’m not saying you have to be with me or anything, I’m just saying…I don’t know what I’m saying.” 
“I’ve been ignoring you?” I ask, dumbfounded by his idiocy. 
“Well, yeah. You haven’t even been answering the walkie.” 
“And you think that was because I didn’t want to kiss you? Not because, oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that the second Nance and the others showed up you shoved me away from you? It couldn���t have been because it was obvious you couldn’t stand the thought of being seen with me?” 
Eddie’s face drains of color. 
“I can’t help but see now that this is all you think I deserve. A quick kiss when no one can see, right? A little making out before someone can figure who you’re with, huh?” 
“No! That is not at all what that was! I can’t believe you would think that. I pushed you away so you wouldn’t be seen with me!” he shouts, cutting me off. 
“What?” 
“The whole town wanted me for murder! Murder! They thought I was running a cult that killed my friend as a sacrifice! My friend! I didn’t want you to be tied to that anymore than you already were, so I pushed you off before the others could see. If someone, somehow went yapping about a girlfriend of mine and things went sideways when we got out of the upside down, you might have gone down with me and I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t. I was going to tell you all of this as soon as I could but you never let me get the chance, and I see why now. I am so sorry it looked like I was embarrassed to be with you, but that will never be the case with me.” 
He takes my face in his hands and looks me directly in the eyes. 
“You are single-handedly the most beautiful person I have ever met. Inside and out. You have always cared for me and the old Hellfire Club. Don’t think I didn’t know it was you sending cookies on our campaign nights, even after graduating. I remember when I showed up at your house looking for James because some older kids had taken my lunch money in middle school, little you went after them yourself and did one helluva job doing it. You sat me down and cleaned me up. Gave me peas to put on my forehead.”  
It was like a forgotten memory was just pulled up by his words, I did remember that. 
“I could never be embarrassed by you, ever. I don’t care what people think. I…I love you. And I love your hair, and I love your eyes, and I love your laugh, and I love your stomach and your thighs, and I love your mind. I love you and I hope you can see it. I hope…I hope you can see me,” he finishes off in a very quiet whisper, tilting his head down and away from my eyes. 
I place my hands over his that still hold my face. 
“I have always seen you, Eddie Munson. Always.” 
His head jolts up to look me in the eyes once more. 
“God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I know you’re not a horrible person, I should have known, I’m so sorry. God, you were literally being hunted for murder and I was crying about you being embarrassed by me? I’m so fucking sorry.” 
I shake my head and take a deep breath. 
“I love you, I have for so long. I love the way you smile, I love the way you’re not afraid to take up space, I love the way you’re there for Dustin, the way you were there for me countless times. I love you and your horrible music.”
“Hey, now. Watch it.”
I laugh, “I love you and I see you and I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re forgiven, I promise. You didn’t even really need to apologize in the first place.” 
“Yes, I did. Because none of that was fair to you.” 
“And none of that was fair to you, shortcake. It’s okay.” 
I look at his lips, and that’s all the cue Eddie needs to kiss me. Finally. We put our hearts into it, getting lost in each other. Getting lost in our sudden understandings of the other.  
“We’re both really kinda stupid aren’t we? Stupid and oblivious,” I say, chuckling quietly. 
“Oh, definitely. I mean, we’ve known each other for, what, at least ten years and we couldn’t figure this out without a bunch of drama?” 
“It seems very on brand for you actually, you’ve always been one for the dramatics.” 
“I love you.” 
“And I love you.”
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weasleylangs · 3 years
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swipe right / f.w
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Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward.  Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention.  Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)
AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........
/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!
taglist / @amourtentiaa​ @weelittleweasley​ @lumos-barnes​​ @lumosandnoxwriting​​ @loveboyhalo​​ @harrysweasleys​​ @freds-slut​​ @rcwenaclaw​​ @barneswidow​ @fandomhideout​​​
-------------
Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile. 
She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.
Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long. 
‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’
It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something. 
She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.
“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.
“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth. 
“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.
“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.” 
Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”
Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!” 
“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”
Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?” 
Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.
-----
It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what. 
It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind. 
Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling. 
“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in. 
“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.
“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.” 
Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter. 
“Did you at least swipe right on me?” 
It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.” 
She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.” 
“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.” 
“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.
“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.
“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”
“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people. 
When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will. 
He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.” 
He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.” 
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile. 
“Of course, Freddie.” 
She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend. 
“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.
-----
To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x 
Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.
From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x
She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel. 
It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it’s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass. 
“What happened today?” 
Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.
“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up. 
“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.” 
Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him. 
Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.” 
Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?” 
“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.
“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?” 
That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You’re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”
“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking. 
“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans. 
“You told me to stop being picky!” 
“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing. 
‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.
Fred, 24. 2km away.
“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.” 
Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.” 
Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”
“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother. 
“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.  
“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”
Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.” 
“Yeah, maybe.” 
-----
Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.
From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :) 
She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.  
To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;)  > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters
She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.
From: Fred
> im 7’5 if its that important :/ 
She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.
From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :) 
The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred. 
But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.
She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.
To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x
She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.
Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of  his little brother’s best friends. 
-----
Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him. 
“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.
“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?” 
George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?” 
Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”
“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”
Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.
“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.
Is he?
“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N. 
“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.” 
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly. 
“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis. 
“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.” 
Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath. 
“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.
“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy. 
“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw. 
“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom. 
-----
Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet. 
It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together. 
Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred. 
“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?” 
Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet. 
He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure. 
“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up. 
“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.
“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.” 
Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves. 
“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”
He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at. 
Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead. 
But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything. 
“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.
“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”
“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment. 
They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey. 
“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?” 
“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.
Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.” 
Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant. 
“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.
“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”
“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?” 
Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?” 
He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”
They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms. 
From: Neville  > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!
She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram. 
She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick. 
She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.
That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more. 
-----
The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.  
He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen. 
“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.
“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.
“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!” 
That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-” 
“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up. 
“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.” 
Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.
“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.
“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.” 
Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.” 
She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears. 
She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.
“Can I please kiss you before I die?” 
Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced. 
Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers. 
Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life. 
“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked. 
Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”
397 notes · View notes
cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years
Note
Hello!! sorry to bother you could write a ben 10 x reader? (the reader is kidnapped by vilgax and ben has to save her, after that ben and the reader has an argument) please, i love your fics!!
Storm Before The Calm
Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3.4k words
A/N: I changed up the request a bit (I figured it shouldn't matter which villain was used here) also I was planning to have this as sort of a damsel in distress situation but after having a chat with some boys pigs I decided a self indulgant badass reader was right up my alley
Additional A/N: I have a math exam on Thursday and I cannot focus for the life of me. So, I decided to finish up one of my drafts. Now hopefully I'll be able to work like a robot for the next week, after satisfying my creative side. Also, this fic was super self indulgant.
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"I trust Ben.” You did. With your entire being.
Kevin chuckled from beside you, “Yeah, try saying that without cracking the fillings in your teeth and maybe we’ll believe you.”
His words caused you to relax, only then realizing how hard your jaw was clenched in fury. Gwen sighed in disappointment and for a second you wanted to defend her cousin and your boyfriend. Until you realized that he deserved every bit of unbridled anger coming to him.
“I trust him. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at him.”
Your hands were balled into tight fists and even though you wanted to take your eyes off the television screen and take a warm bath, you also for some reason couldn’t stop yourself from watching it.
Like you were afraid something would happen when your eyes were off the screen for even a second. Maybe you didn’t trust him.
But honestly how could you, you were currently watching your boyfriend relax in a hot tub with Jennifer Nocturne and the sight was enough to send bile up your throat.
Ben wasn’t returning any of her advances, but he wasn’t stopping her either. And the thought made you sick to your stomach. You knew Ben was faithful and you knew he would never cheat on you but watching how the Hollywood starlet continued to hang off him sent waves of jealousy through you.
Not to mention anger at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. When he got back, you were going to wring his neck.
Trusting him was getting harder with Gwen constantly insisting that you dump him.
Honestly, you wondered how that girl even kept a relationship.
When Ben eventually came home, all the entertainment channels were still talking about the two of them and the well-known picture of Jennifer Nocturne kissing him was circulating about. Each time you looked at that image, you wanted to shoot an arrow at the TV.
As time went by, your anger slowly fizzled out. You were unable to maintain your rage at Ben, quickly getting a headache and feeling tired of trying to maintain negative emotions. Even then, you couldn't push down the uneasy feeling in your heart that seized your stomach.
You kept expecting a text message from Ben, an apology call but as the night proceeded you understood that he was having way too much fun with another woman to even think about how you must be feeling.
The thought of that made you want to go back home and crawl underneath the covers, hiding away from the rest of the world.
But Gwen was persistent and any time you tried to wiggle away from the pair of them and go home, she insisted that you stay and make sure Ben knew how upset he made you tonight.
You were more than happy to give your boyfriend the cold shoulder until he apologized rather than have to confront him. That was just how your relationship with Ben worked. Neither of you were the type to lose your tempers and yell and scream at each other.
Although you were worried what would come out of this. Would you be able to peacefully discuss your feelings and then come to some sort of conclusion civilly? Seems too good to be true honestly.
Even then you waited until Ben came home, listening to Gwen and Kevin about how you should rip the band aid off and get everything off your chest rather than ignore him for a couple of days until the two of you got bored.
Usually, the latter would work but you had an inkling that it wouldn't be the solution for this particular argument because if you didn't communicate your emotions then he would never know how you felt about it.
So, even though your stomach filled with anxiety and sadness as the hours passed, you still didn't leave, determined to talk to him about it.
Your jaw was clenched tight when he finally did come back home, utterly relaxed and even happy like he wasn't just curled up against some Hollywood starlet while his girlfriend was watching it on E!
"I'm really upset with you." You ground out when Kevin and Gwen left, not knowing how else to start the conversation.
"What for?"
You didn't reply, picking up the remote and flicking to a gossip channel, then a news channel, then an interview show and all of them had the picture of Ben Tennyson and Jennifer Nocturne locking lips.
Ben winced, "She kissed me! I didn't even return it."
You still refused to look at you, crossing your arms aggressively, "Uh huh and what was today all about?"
"It's just publicity. Jennifer thinks that it'll help with my career."
You scoffed, "What career?"
Ben's back tensed up and he turned to give you a stiff expression, "I'm a superhero. I've saved the universe a thousand times and now that I'm finally getting recognition for it, you want to be petty?"
"Petty? You think I'm being petty? Well forgive me for getting upset after watching my boyfriend curl up to some other woman in a hot tub for the last five hours!" You bit, standing up from the couch.
"It wasn't like that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!"
"No, you stop pretending like this isn't a big deal! Ever since your secret got out you've been acting like an ass and since meeting that blonde rat it's only gone through your head more!" You shouted, clenching your hands at your sides. How could he not see your side of this?
"Well shouldn't I get to enjoy my life once in a while?! I'm the one saving the planet constantly! I'm the one with constant death threats and near death experiences every other week! Shouldn't I get some attention for it?! God knows I don't get any from you!" He yelled back and you grit your teeth.
"Don't forget that while you were out there risking your life, we were right beside you!"
"Oh, so that's what it is, you're jealous that everyone thinks of you as the sidekick!"
"That is so NOT what this is about!"
"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're jealous because you're not getting attention by mooching off of me!"
Your eyes widened in shock. Mooching? Did he seriously think that you risked your life alongside him every day to help other people and more importantly, keep him safe, for attention?
Your body trembled, outraged and you didn't say another word, leaving his house in a rush and slamming the door behind you.
You needed something to hit.
***
Your body pumped with adrenaline and anger, muscles itching to be used as you sauntered through the old and run-down factory with reckless abandon. You briefly wondered whether you should've told Gwen or Kevin you were going there but then decided against it, pride and anger too great.
Any doubts or hesitation you had disappeared when you saw Vulkanus, standing tall and broad in his metal suit. And as per usual, he had his herd of minions doing his physical labour.
"If it isn't the Plumber's sweetheart." He drawled once he noticed you. You didn't bother with the stealth, leaving the door wide open behind you and letting the sunlight seep in. If he knew what was good for him, then this would be over quick.
"Hello Vulkanus." You greeted politely and he rolled his eyes. Of all people, he knew just how misleading your innocence was.
"Where's the cavalry?"
"Just me today." You answered and for a second you were confused by your own confidence. Maybe you were taking this just a little too easy. Oh well, that was another thing you could blame your pig-headed boyfriend for.
"Well then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend, sweetheart." He rasped out and the corner of your mouth twitched into a smirk. Without another word, you raised your arms, feeling the familiar heat of fire in the palm of your hand before chucking it at him.
Just as you knew he would, he sent his minions towards you first. They were embarrassingly unskilled but the problem came in numbers. They swarmed around you like ants and you felt yourself getting irritated at the clicking sound they were making.
Unfortunately for Vulkanus his make-shift factory was right beside a dam which gave you an endless supply of the elements to work with.
Summoning all the water you could manoeuvre, you pulled it into the factory, shattering the windows along with it and flooding the room. It only took a few flicks of your wrist to create a whirlpool in the centre, knocking all the workers off their feet.
You stiffened your hands, curling in your fingers and the temperature dropped, the water solidifying with each second until all of them were encased in ice. Another flick of the wrist had the path clearing between you and Vulkanus, who was still warm.
"You-You're sparing me?" He asked, confused and a dry laugh left you.
"Not at all," You sang, eyes turning dark, "I'm giving you special treatment."
Vulkanus bounded towards you, holding his mallet high and you swiftly dodged, using water on the floor to slide quickly. He crashed into the engine of one of his machines, the fuel tank exploding and spewing fowl smelling petrol onto the floor.
It floated above the level of water and began surrounding both of you.
He once again came at you, letting out a roar and you used the water to sink through the crevices of his suit, freezing it from within and you heard the satisfying sound of his suit cracking.
Just a little more strength and forcing a gust of air through the cracks had it falling apart and his frail body fell out of its metal encasing.
"You'll pay for this! You big bully!"
"Thanks for the fun time today, Vulkanus." You smiled, strutting to the door just as confidently as you came in. Even though your body was burning from the workout and you could barely breathe, you still couldn't get over the high.
Before leaving the building, you turned around to see him still glaring at you from his place on the floor.
"Oh, I should probably free your minions, right?" You commented, eyes flickering between the ones still encased in ice and the floor that was still flooded with water and petrol.
You let out a fake sigh, "I guess I'll be nice today," You winked at Vulkanus, "Thanks for the playdate, sweetheart."
His eyes widened when you blew a kiss to him, watching in fear as you ignited a flare in your palm and blew it towards him before turning around and using the wind to slam the doors behind you. When you were just a few feet away you heard the place blow apart.
Slowly, the adrenaline began melting and the blood rushing through your ears was much more audible. You were panting, tired from the exercise and the thought of calling Kevin to come and pick you up. Or maybe even Ben. You were calm enough now to have a conversation with him.
When you pulled your phone out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun around to meet eyes with Captain Nemesis. For a brief second you were wondering if he was here to invite you to some inane party or even to tell you that Ben was at one.
Although you hardly looked the part, you were sweating and your face was probably red and blotchy.
"Can I help you?" You asked, taking a step back, he was a little too close to you and the look in his eye freaked you out.
"As a matter of fact, you can." He said, "You see I'm arranging a little stunt for Ben Tennyson. An opportunity if you will, to showcase some of his heroism."
You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. The last thing you wanted to do was feed Ben's ego at the moment.
"With all due respect, I don't really think I'm up for a damsel in distress routine right now, Captain, I'd rather just get home. And If you take another step towards me, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine." You snapped and he backed off obediently, raising his hands in a form of surrender.
"That's too bad." He mused and you turned away from him, intent on walking back home or even calling a cab. Anything to get away from this creep faster.
"Too bad you don't really have a choice."
You felt his hand on your bare shoulder again but before you could even react you felt volts of electricity rush through you. You gasped painfully, feeling fire through your veins before everything started to hurt.
White burned in your vision and colours started to blur together as your eyes filled with tears. Your body crumbled, falling forward and Captain Nemesis caught you.
Right before your consciousness slipped away you heard him say something.
"For your sake, you better hope that Ben Tennyson is as great as those gossip channels make him out to be."
***
When you felt yourself regaining consciousness, you could feel your weight pulling down and also couldn't feel the ground. This had your eyes snapping open, regardless of how dizzy you were and how many dots were in your vision.
You hazily made out the venue, Nemesis Tower, before recognize the blonde woman tied up beside you. It didn't take long before you realized she was tied to the other end of the rope, suspended through mid-air just like you.
This was no doubt going to be some sort of deathly choice.
You noticed when Ben came in, turning into Ultimate Humangasaur. He looked furious, like you've never seen him before and you knew it was because Ben was certain he'd teach him a lesson today.
"Where's (Y/N)." He all but growled and your heart soared. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, everything from before was forgotten.
"Right up there. And so is Jennifer." He replied, still smug despite the way Ben was pining him to the ground by his throat. Ben followed his gaze to meet your eyes and you took a deep breathe, bracing yourself.
A selfish part of you wanted to stay and see what Ben would do, would he save you even though Jennifer was a civilian and world famous?
Even then you figured that you shouldn't risk anyone's life for petty jealousy, so you took a deep breath, blowing it out through your mouth and watching as a gust of wind blew past, the pressure making you swing.
You swung a few feet back, letting your body fall a little before blowing again. Once you gained enough momentum, you looked up to the rope tying the two of you together and spitting fire at it, falling at an angle. You briefly heard Jennifer scream and revelled in her karma for a hot second.
On your way down, you quickly burnt off the rest of the ropes, bringing a pool of water to crystallize into a makeshift slide as you slide on your knees across the floor, just in time to catch Jennifer in your arms.
Your knees stung as they scraped across the concrete and the wind was knocked out of you when the woman fell into your form.
She gasped and her eyes that was screwed shut gently fluttered open. Up close you could understand why everyone was in love with her. Even then you couldn't spare her any concern.
You quickly pushed her out of your arms, noticing Gwen and Kevin staring at you in awe when you stood up. You cracked your knuckles, making your way over to the older man with a scowl.
"For your sake, you better hope that I'm just as weak as you think I am. Spoiler alert, I'm not."
Ben spared a small smile at you but you couldn't feel anything aside from hot fury. You felt water surge beneath your fingers and threw it at him, pulling up a wall of earth to block his blasts.
Your boyfriend immediately began fighting alongside you and your bodies fell into a familiar rhythm. Even though there was a crazed narcissist trying to kill you, you felt safe beside Ben.
It wasn't long before the four of you managed to overpower him, rendering his armour useless until he was defeated, lying pathetically on the ground.
You walked up to him and your lips twisted into an unimpressed frown when you noticed the way he had the audacity to glare at you. Without a second word, you raised your leg and kicked him right between the legs.
"I always keep my promises, Captain."
Kevin began laughing behind you and Ben cringed.
Finally, when you turned to meet Ben, now de-transformed, all the fight left your body and you relaxed. He looked apologetic and you let him approach you.
His arms wrapped around your waist and you leaned into him, breathing the familiar scent of his deodorant and snaking your arms under his jacket to fist his T-shirt.
He sighed into your hair, arms tightening around your body, "I'm sorry. For being an ass to you and saying all those horrible things, I was being an idiot and you deserve an apology."
You didn't move, not pulling away from the way your forehead was pressed against the length of his neck, "Thank you for coming to save me."
"Didn't look like you needed much help." He chuckled and you felt happy hearing the pride in his voice.
"I missed you." You murmured, holding him a little tighter and he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently. And just like that, everything was right in the world. Just as long as you were in each other's arms.
"I love you."
You heard the click of a camera and your head snapped up to see a herd of cameramen and reporters along with a couple of police cars. Ben laughed nervously beside you, "I guess we won't have to worry about another actress coming between us."
You gave him an unimpressed frown and he just smiled, leaning to peck your lips and you heard the crowd of reporters’ gasp and heard the shutters of cameras before they began shouting questions at you.
You pulled away from him when you saw Jennifer Nocturne make her way towards you. You figured she wanted to snuggle up to Ben now that the cameras were filming.
Instead, she walked right up to you, hugging you tightly and your arms flailed pathetically beside her, unsure of what to do, "You saved my life! I don't know how to thank you!"
She pulled away for just a second before pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in alarm and the shutters began once again and flashes practically blinded you.
"Huh, so that's what that feels like." Ben murmured when she pulled away from you. Kevin was smirking beside him, satisfied that he got a taste of his own medicine and Gwen was just in shock.
Ben felt his stomach turn at the sight of Jennifer’s lipstick on your mouth and you were unsure whether you should feel repulsed or cocky.
But as you wiped the pigment off your lips and curled back into Ben's side you couldn't feel anything other than your burning muscles and your drooping eyelids.
You squinted because of the bright lights, feeling a headache grow as the exhaustion from before crept up on you again. After 2 fights and a kidnapping today, there was nothing more you wanted than a nap.
"Wanna go home?" Your ever observant boyfriend asked just as the nausea started to kick in. You nodded and he guided you away from the reporters to his car.
He gently placed you into the front seat, shielding your head as you got in to prevent you from hitting it against the hood before buckling your seatbelt, watching carefully as you drifted into a sound sleep.
Ben heard everyone behind him swoon as he lovingly placed a kiss to your knuckles and then climbed into the seat beside you, sparing you one last warm glance before starting the car and driving away.
He'd definitely notice the shy smile on your face when you saw that Ben kissing you was on the front page of a magazine.
And you'd notice the jealous scowl he'd have when he saw that Jennifer kissing you was on the front page of another.
417 notes · View notes
gohyuck · 3 years
Text
the purge: society
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pairing: firefighter!san x reader
genre: purge au, angst, some fluff
warnings: mentions of violence (especially violence against cops), murder, blood, injury, weapons (guns, knives, metal baseball bats)
word count: 2.4k
note: this was originally meant to be a drabble and it’s still pretty short so i didn’t get to elaborate on the characters but honestly maybe i’ll explore a purge universe with ateez someday because this was fun (i’ve never watched any of the movies though so i’ll have to get on that)
“What the fuck?” 
He hadn’t expected to see anyone left alive on this street.
“Shut up and get down,” You hiss, reaching your good arm up to grab onto the man’s jacket collar before unceremoniously pulling him towards you. He stumbles, falling gracelessly onto you. A scream bubbles up in your throat as he accidentally puts pressure onto your already free-bleeding bicep, but you get ahold of yourself just in time, only letting the quietest of wounded moans escape you. 
“You’re the first person that hasn’t tried to kill me before talking to me all night - oh, shit,” The stranger trails off, swearing when you effectively stop him from speaking further by placing your switchblade right under his skin. It’s only then that he even pauses to take you in: your back is up by the police car door, sure, and your left arm has a massive gash in it, but you’re armed. There’s a pistol laying idly in your lap, kept company by a metal baseball bat. 
Not to mention, the knife at his neck. 
“What the hell are you doing, walking around unarmed and with a first aid kit? Also, how the hell are you unarmed and with just a first aid kit? What the fuck?” You let the questions out in a rapidfire fashion, and he can’t help but clock the slight rasp in your voice. It’s easier to recognize than the pained wheeze you’re trying very, very hard to suppress, but neither escape him. He’s trained to notice the little things, anyways. 
“You need to bandage that shit up,” The man ignores your questions, moving his head just enough to miss your blade but also enough to be able to look you in the eyes. “How long has it been bleeding?”
“That’s none of your business,” You grit out. “Answer my questions or I’ll kill you right here and now.”
“If I answer yours, will you answer mine?” For some reason, he doesn’t seem to be panicking just yet. His gaze is sincere, but it’s too solid to be that of a bona fide idiot. You suck in a breath of air. Threatening him would be so much easier if he didn’t seem like a nice guy. It’s hard enough to live through the night, you don’t need guilt on your hands, and you know you’re going to feel guilty when you kill him. And you will kill him.
You need that first aid kit. You’ll do anything for it.
Anything, starting off with lying. 
“Sure,” You reply, steeling yourself for any sudden movements he might make now that you’re faking amicability. Maybe he’ll believe you to be vulnerable and try for your pistol or your bat, or maybe he’ll be properly cruel and finish off your arm. You don’t want to think about it. He lets out a sigh of relief, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve actually affected him after all. “Now speak.”
“Not unarmed, there’s a police-issue pistol in my jacket and a tactical knife in my jeans. I’m not totally nuts. First aid kit’s for my buddy, though, I’ll be real, you need it way more than him.” There’s something resembling concern in his expression as his eyes flit between your torn arm and your face, but that barely interests you. You haven’t truly registered anything after ‘police-issue’.
You lean in, pressing the edge of your knife against the skin directly above his adam’s apple. For the first time since you’d cornered him, your mystery purger’s breath hitches. His eyebrows draw together in confusion. It’s no matter. You no longer regret the fact that you’ll have to tear his jugular out yourself. 
“You’re a hog, huh,” You stare him down, any sympathy you might’ve had gone. For a moment, it seems as if he has no concept of what you’re saying. A second passes, though, and his gaze clears. 
“Firefighter,” He responds, though the word is garbled due to him attempting to keep his movements to a minimum. You pull back slightly, very slightly, to let him explain. “I… found a dead cop, jacked his pistol. I’ll show you my ID, if you want.” 
“Let me see it.” You nod your head at him as if giving him permission to live a little longer, though you both know full well that identity theft and identity fabrication are legal, too. Might as well see how much effort he puts into a fake. The man waits until you pull back just a bit more, enough to let him slowly reach his hand into his back pocket before producing a lanyard. 
You grab it out of his grip with your hurt arm, not willing to move your knife too far away from his throat. You simply don’t have a good enough read on - you glance down - San Choi, ACT Firefighter, Employee ID: 018-102-4 to allow yourself any leeway with him. 
His gently smiling face stares up at you from the plastic card, protected only by a clear sleeve connected to a red lanyard. San’s photo has black hair and an undercut, styled so his forehead is on display. A pair of dimples makes a guest appearance, and, overall, he seems like a genuinely sweet guy. The ID looks real, too, so maybe you aren’t totally fucked. 
The San under your knife has bleach blond hair that almost falls over his eyes, though you suppose you can’t blame him for skipping out on the hair product tonight. He seems slightly tanner than his photo, his skin beautiful even now as dust from the aftermath of the explosion starts to settle against it. 
Right. The explosion. 
Recalling the events leading up to you meeting San forces you to remember that you have a gaping, bloody gash in your left arm. You’re honestly lucky to be alive, having ducked and used the car you’re against for cover from flying debris after a building down the block had exploded. You’d just finished driving your knife into a cop’s side - third cop of the night, eighth of your career as a purge cop killer - to make sure that he was dead when you’d heard the bomb go off, and you’d dropped before even thinking about it. Something had hit your arm on the way down, and when the adrenaline had finally left your system, you’d taken note of your blood-soaked sleeve. 
You’d closed the car door after that, sealing your third murder of the night in the vehicle just so you could lean up against the door. It had been 6:31 in the morning then, and you had figured that someone would come by and kill you in the last moments before legality ensued again. You’d assumed that you’d fight, of course you would, but your arm being totally fucked definitely put a damper on your belief in your ability to overcome anyone or anything else. 
Instead of the disgruntled, trigger-happy purger you’d expected to eventually find, though, you’d been found by San Choi. San Choi, who’s currently staring at your wounded arm like it’s grown eyes and can stare back. 
“Come on, let me fix it up,” He pleads, lifting the kit up with the hand that’s farther from you. “You might not trust me, or whatever, but the purge is about to end as it is. I have a paramedic friend, Seonghwa, who’s taught me the basics of -”
“Shut the fuck up.” You tell him, though you’re quickly losing your bite. He obeys regardless. God, your arm really, really fucking hurts. Before pulling your knife back, you check the watch on your wrist. 6:47. Stay alive for 13 more minutes, 780 more seconds. You’ll be fine. You take the shakiest breath you’ve ever taken. 
You pull your knife away from him. 
Nothing happens. 
“I’m going to use an alcohol free wipe and then wrap gauze around your arm, okay? You’ll just have to hold out until we can get you to a working hospital after that,” San speaks as if he’s talking to a child, or a scared animal, and you can’t blame him. He doesn’t seem like a purger, but you technically are one. You wouldn’t put it past yourself to attack on a whim if you were him. He, very slowly and with his hands in your full view at all times, opens the kit and pulls out the requisite materials. 
“Gonna need you to rip your sleeve off above the cut.” He continues, leaning back as you bring your knife up to your clothes and slit the cloth right above your wound. You tear the remainder of the sleeve off your arm before throwing it behind you somewhere. San gently grabs ahold of your elbow - his palm is calloused in a way that tells you he lifts regularly, and you’re sure of this as he discards his jacket and you watch the muscles ripple in his arms under his thin black shirt - and places the wipe against your cut. 
Your reaction is instantaneous: now that you’re completely past the adrenaline stage, the feeling of something, anything against the gash has you reeling to cry out. Before you can even process that you’ve made a sound, a hand presses hard against the back of your head, shoving your mouth against San’s. 
He doesn’t know how else to shut you up. 
His lips are chapped, but the sensation of being kissed so suddenly jars you out of your pain. San attempts to pull back, and you can already feel the apologetic wince he’s about to give you, but he brushes over your wound with the wipe again and your pain doubles back. It’s you that pulls him in this time, pressing your lips to his sloppily but forcefully as if it’ll alleviate the burn in your arm. 
Kissing him only slightly muffles you at best, but you no longer care. The purge isn’t over yet. You could both die at any second. Hell, San could kill you at any second. His hand moves from the back of your head to cup your face as he leans in towards you to deepen the kiss. His lips are chapped, yes, but they’re soft. He tastes like mint and copper: there’s a cut in his lower lip. You don’t mind. 
San pulls away for a moment, but only does so to grab the gauze from the kit. Once he’s wrapped it around your arm once, twice, thrice, he leans back in and your mouth accepts his own eagerly, your other hand coming up to drape over his shoulder. Neither of you know why you’re doing this, kissing a stranger with such fervor as one of you bandages the other up, but you both know that there’s really nothing else to do. 
It’s only after he finishes taping you up that the two of you pull away fully. His eyes are still just as kind as you’d thought them to be at first, though his lips are far more swollen than they’d been mere minutes prior. You admire your handiwork, eyes tracing his features as he admires his own, thumb very, very gently running over your gauze. Both of you raise your heads to smile sheepishly at each other at the exact same time.
Three things happen in rapid succession. 
“Good?” San’s voice is barely above a whisper, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Just as you’re about to speak - 
“San!” A voice, low and hoarse, interrupts you, and you look up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at the space between your eyes. You’re frozen in place for a split second before you start reaching for your own pistol. Your fingers brush the grip when - 
The clock strikes seven, and sirens go off all around you, signalling the end of the purge. 
The gun is out of your face. Your hand moves off of your own.
“San,” The owner of the gun pays you no mind, suddenly, his entire focus on San. The gun-owner reaches a hand out, and the firefighter beside you takes it, allowing himself to get pulled up to his feet. “You okay?” 
“Yeah, Yunho, I’m totally good,” San responds, giving the taller man a cat-like grin of reassurance. Yunho’s got a fireman’s helmet on, and you suppose it’s good as protection. He must be a fellow firefighter, then. He’s tall, and though he’d seemed nothing short of severe mere moments ago, he seems softer, kinder now that the purge is over. The transformation is enough to give you whiplash. His right hand is wrapped in bandages, and this catches San’s sight at the same time it catches your own. “What the hell happened to you, though?” 
“That policeman you killed had buddies,” Yunho replies with ease, but you don’t miss San’s wince. Seems like he hadn’t just happened upon that police-issue pistol. You can’t help the small grin that fights to make its way across your face. “They tried to get into the station, we had to fortify ourselves. We’re mostly fine, just that Woo’s lost a finger. He’ll live once he stops whining about it. We were mostly worried about you, honestly, taking fucking forever just to find a first aid kit. Who’s this?”
Yunho moves the topic of conversation over to you so naturally that you barely even realize what has happened before San is reaching a hand out to you to pull you up to a standing position. You grab ahold of your pistol, though you shove the bat off your lap before allowing yourself to be brought up. Without thinking, you practically plaster yourself to San’s side. Now that he’s for sure what he told you he was, and now that you’re no longer in danger of dying, you can’t help but feel inexplicably connected to him even though neither of you know each other. San wraps an arm around your waist naturally, and neither of you miss Yunho’s eyebrow raise. Neither of you acknowledge it, either. 
“This?” San asks rhetorically, turning his head slightly to look at you. He’s smiling again, and you find that you want to see it more often. Maybe you’re experiencing the onset of delirium. You hope not. “This is…” 
“(Name),” You reply, being honest. There’s no need for you to lie. Besides, you owe San answers, right? You stick your uninjured arm out, letting Yunho shake your hand. San’s grip tightens around your waist. 
“I’m (Name).”
189 notes · View notes
merakiui · 4 years
Note
hello!!<3 can i request an angst scenario (it can have a happy ending it's up to you!!) childe x fem!reader where they are together for some time and she didn't know he's fatui (she hates them bc her parents were in debt and overall they ruined her life and he's too scared to tell her) but she finds out and wants to broke up?? THANK YOU
In which you discover Childe’s ties to the Fatui.
cw: angst, debt, small mention of depression as a result of debt, female reader note - I woke up and chose pain with this one. >:) it also got long;;; oops!
You hate the Fatui. And although that’s such a strong, hurtful word it's your true feelings. You’ve never experienced their wrath firsthand, but you have witnessed what it can do to people. Your sweet, loving parents, who took loans out of the bank in order to pay for repairs to their shop, were reduced to frightful messes at the mere mention of that harrowing F-word.
It’s horrible to see them in such a state, especially since a few agents had come by once and practically demanded the money. As a result of such a distasteful discussion, you refuse to go into any sort of monetary career: trader, merchant, and even a wandering saleswoman. You’ll find a way to make things right by getting a job that will bring in lots of riches for your poor parents. Then the Fatui will have no choice but to leave your family alone.
Your own funds have dried up, having gone into another Fatui agent’s gloved hands. You can’t even argue because you have an inkling as to what will happen when you finally run out of money to give. Ever since this entire debt charade, your parents have become hollow shells of their former selves: paranoid, depressed, and starved of the happiness that comes with being in a regular, debt-free family.
Childe tunes into your rant as if someone had just turned on the switch that designates his listening skills. The two of you are sitting on a lovely hilltop, watching the stars twinkle in and out of focus. Liyue Harbor can be seen from afar, glittering in warm colors of gold and red. If Childe remembers correctly, another festival should be right around the corner. He’ll have to take you when he finds time to slink away from his work.
Speaking of his work, he’s never actually told you about it. When you asked, he simply said it was a job that allowed him to travel. It sounded like a traveling merchant to you—perhaps even a fishmonger specializing in exotic types—considering he was seemingly loaded with Mora. It made you jealous that he was so well-off with his finances, but you couldn’t complain when he so readily emptied his pockets for your sake.
“And then that stupid agent shows up at our door right when I get home! It’s the worst timing ever. My parents were pretending to be out of the house and I showed up and ruined their plan.” A heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as you flop back onto the grass, where Childe fixes you with a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “I hate it. They’re not even themselves anymore. It’s like they lost all sense of life. I’m picking up as many commissions as I can, but it doesn’t even help. The Fatui just take it all faster than I can save it.”
“They’re the worst, aren’t they?”
“And the sky isn’t blue. Of course they’re the worst!” You inhale softly. “No use getting mad about something that already happened, though.”
“You’ll just give yourself more stress and you don’t need that.” He joins you on the plush grass, turning his head to look at you rather than up at the inky night sky. “I can help with your commissions, you know. I’ve been itching to smash some hilichurl camps.”
“I can handle it myself. It’s fine.” Only it’s not and you’ve started realizing that. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Funny. I was going to ask you something, too!”
“Oh. Uh...”
He chuckles, staring at you with blue eyes that don’t sparkle. “There’s this festival coming up and I wanted to take you. It’ll be just the two of us for one night. You can forget all about work and money—”
“What about you? You said your job has you traveling all over the place. That’s why we’ll rarely see each other in the future. Once you’re done here in Liyue, that is.” You move onto your side, holding yourself up on your elbow. “I don’t think it’ll work.”
“Well, my boss doesn’t have to know. It’ll be our tiny secret!”
You roll your eyes, smiling a little. Deep inside you’ve always felt like something was off about his story. For the past few months, he’s remained in Liyue and once you even caught him slipping into Northland Bank when you were running some errands. You hope he isn’t in a similar situation concerning debt and poverty. No, he wouldn’t need to be. He’s shown you just how many lavish things his funds can afford. Why would he be in debt if he has a stable job?
“Are you...doing something bad?”
You could’ve phrased that better, but it’s already out in the open now. Sheepishly, you avoid his befuddled stare, opting to watch the moon as its light becomes obscured behind a dark cloud. An airy chuckle escapes him, but he doesn’t say anything. His silence confirms your fears and it dawns upon you that he hasn’t been truthful this entire time.
“This mask.” It’s in your hands before he can stop you. You’re tapping at it with a finger, equal parts curious and apprehensive. You refuse to beat around the bush; your doubtful gaze catches his and it hardens at once. “You’re Fatui, aren’t you?”
He sits up calmly, holding out his hand. “That’s quite the accusation, my dear. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“I’m not jumping to any conclusion. I’m right, aren’t I?” Now you’re sitting up, staggering to your feet to find some sort of leverage over him. He’s taller than you and far more powerful than he once let on. “Childe, why would—“
He sighs, lowering his hand out of defeat. “I suppose there’s no point avoiding it now. You were bound to find out one of these days.”
“One of these days? What? Like, when my family’s on the streets because the Fatui took our house?”
It hurts that he wasn’t honest and it hurts even more knowing that he has the power to help. He could’ve spent his time working out ways to get you out of debt, yet he decided to shower you in affection and useless trinkets! Trinkets that are only good for selling and receiving money to pay off the debt. You could cry; that’s how much it hurts. And when he makes no solid effort to comfort you, the tears begin to form.
“Of course not. I’d never let that happen!”
“Then why would you lie about it? Why not help me? Why can’t you just be honest? You always avoid questions you don’t want to answer and I hate it! I’ve been with you long enough to know that that mask is bad news. I was just waiting for you to confirm it, but you didn’t.”
You think it’s selfish for wanting his help—for wanting help from a Fatui agent, no less—but you’re too upset to care.
“(Name), you know that’s—“
“What else haven’t you told me? What else have you lied about? I don’t care if you’re trying to protect me. I’m already on a list. The Fatui still show up to my house and you just...let them. Why?”
“If I interfered, it would look bad in front of Her Majesty. You know I can’t go against her orders. I want to help you—I do. But...”
You’re fumbling for new words, at a complete loss with yourself. No matter how many questions you spout, he’ll evade them like they’re optional. And even if you want answers and honesty more than anything right now, you know he’ll fail to provide it. You shove the mask into his hands, shaking your head in disbelief. A swell of emotions overcome you: sadness, anger, and regret. You feel utterly betrayed. The sweet Childe, whom you once thought was your perfect match, is working for the Fatui—the people who have turned your life into misery.
And that’s probably not even the half of it.
“Let’s break up,” you say before he can spin another false tale. Another easy excuse to avoid this downfall. Childe stops short to stare at you in surprise and it’s weird to see that emotion scrawled across his face. He’s usually smooth and collected; he always knows what to say and how to act. Not this time, though. “It’s not going to work if we’re together while the Fatui are hounding my parents. And they wouldn’t approve of our relationship either.”
“Now, (Name), wait a moment. You’re not thinking straight. You’re just—” He struggles to find the correct words and in that small moment between foggy clarity and paralyzing uncertainty he plasters another plastic smile on. “Look. I know you’re upset, but I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was going to tell you eventually. Just had to find the right time to do it, you know?"
“I know. And that’s why we should go our separate ways.” Like Childe, you also put on a faux show, building up your walls as high and strong as his are. You don’t think you’ll last another minute in his presence, as you’re far too close to tears. “Thank you again for tonight. I’ll take my leave now.”
Rather than pain, it’s bitter when your lips fall upon his soft cheek. And the gesture stings harder than a slap on the wrist. 
The searing pain returns when you pull away and begin the descent from the hill as fast as your trembling legs will allow. You refuse to look back and fall into his arms in hopes that he’ll reassure you. The fact that he doesn’t chase after you—doesn’t even call out—stabs your conflicted heart and it’s more than enough confirmation. Childe isn’t exactly boyfriend material. He’s callous when it comes to a battle and he’s driven by his own ulterior motives. Surely this relationship was just a means of spending his extra time when he found himself bored and lacking a fight. Maybe he thought of his work when the two of you were on secretive dates. Maybe his heart was empty when the two of you were intimate. Maybe you were just the glue holding this crumbling bond together.
Childe remains on that hilltop, watching you disappear into the distance. And it’s then when realizes he’s lost you. The feeling is different from the battlefield and it’s far more real than when he’s snooping around as a Harbinger. You’re just a normal, good-natured citizen and he...ruined that part of you. With his ties to an enemy that has crushed your family. He’s partly, if not fully, responsible for what transpired just now and for the first time in a while real guilt gnaws at him. He’s left wondering why he did all of that—why he couldn’t just face your questions head-on.
It’s his fault, isn’t it?
On that windy hilltop, under the silent, disapproving darkness of the sky, he’s left to pick up the pieces of a fractured relationship. And it’s all because he couldn’t admit the truth to his precious girlfriend.
In a way, the Fatui have taken something from him, too, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to patch it up with honeyed promises. 
Looks like we won’t be going to that festival anytime soon...
439 notes · View notes
drabbles-mc · 3 years
Text
As Soon As I Can
Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader
Request from @alienstardust​:  Umm All the angst in those childhood prompts. I’m a fan! Yes! <3 Maybe something with Nestor? 💫 thank you
I went with this prompt from This Post: When Person A and Person B were kids, Person A broke their arm and had to wear a cast for a while. To make them feel better, Person B decorated it by drawing a bunch of doodles and quotes all over it. When Person A finally got the cast off, they asked the doctor if they could keep it. Years later, Person A takes the cast to a tattoo artist and gets all of Person B’s doodles and quotes tattooed onto their arm so they can wear them forever.
Warnings: language, angst, hospitals
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: I looooooved writing this. Writing has been tough for me lately but this just felt really right. This is my first fic where I’ve done a lot of time skips within the story so hopefully it flows alright. Hope you guys enjoy! xo
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You and Nestor were sitting in your back yard, sprawled out together under the one tree that managed to survive so many years in the California heat. You were laying on your back, cast-bound arm lying rigidly out to the side. You were staring up through the leaves as you listened to Nestor talk.
“At least they let you pick the color,” he was next to you, laying on his stomach as he dug through his backpack.
You laugh was heavy with sarcasm, “Yea, if I’m not gonna be able to move my arm for the next eight weeks it’s the least they could fucking do.”
“You sound bitter.”
You looked over at him, “I am bitter.”
He chuckled and shook his head, he was about to come back with a witty remark when he got distracted by finding whatever he had been looking for. He smiled as he pulled it out, “Aha!” he held up his pack of Sharpies.
“What’re those for?” you nodded towards the markers.
“For your cast.”
“You’re gonna decorate my cast?” you had to laugh.
“Yea,” he was carefully choosing a few different markers to start with, “Maybe it’ll make you feel better about totally eating it falling off your skateboard the other day.”
You laughed as you reached over and shoved him with your good arm, “Shut up—like you haven’t fallen a million times.”
“No casts for me, though,” there was a cocky smirk on his face.
“No casts for me, though,” you mocked as you tried not to laugh.
You watched him in semi-silence as he started at your wrist and slowly but surely made his way up your cast, covering it with all sorts of doodles and quotes. Sometimes you forgot how artistic he could be. You went back and forth between watching him and just resting your head back and closing your eyes. Neither of you kept track of the time as he stayed sprawled on his stomach beside you. the two of you probably would’ve stayed out until dark if your mom hadn’t stuck her head out and said that Nestor’s brother was there to pick him up and bring him home. Nestor threw all of his things back into his bag before helping you up.
Once he was gone, you took some time to actually look at the cast. You smiled at the amount of work he put into something that you were only going to have for a couple months. Your fingers traced lightly over the many marker lines that now covered your cast. Your mother looked over your shoulder at the artwork, a smile passing over her lips for a moment.
“Did Nestor do that?”
You nodded, not taking your eyes off of your arm, “Yea.”
She nodded, “That was sweet of him.”
You scoffed trying to suppress the smile on your face, “I guess.”
The next eight weeks passed by. And, despite the fact that having your arm in a cast was incredibly inconvenient, it could have been a lot worse. Nestor walked with you to all of your classes, offering to carry your backpack despite the fact that you told him that your busted arm had nothing to do with your ability to carry a bag. Whenever the two of you were together and things were quiet, he would keep adding onto the tiny mural that was your cast. Sometimes you wondered how much more he could fit on it, but he always found a way. For as much as you wanted it off, you were going to miss the bonding time for the two of you. And you were going to miss the artwork, too.
“So,” the doctor smiled and nodded at you, “you are all good to go. We can get the cast off and you’ll be as good as new.”
“Yea?” the thought of having your arm back made you feel giddy.
“Absolutely.”
You felt like a new person once your arm was free of the confines of the cast. Letting out a sigh of relief, you rotated your wrist a few times and carefully ran your fingers over the freshly-exposed skin, glad to feel like you were back in control of your own body.
“I can get rid of this,” your doctor held up the cast he’d just finished so carefully removing, “Unless you want to keep it as a momento.”
“Um, actually,” you felt your face heating up as you avoided eye contact with your mother, “Could I keep it?”
The doctor nodded, smiling as he handed it over to you, “It’s quite the work of art at this point—I understand wanting to hold onto it.”
On the drive home, you felt your mother glancing over at you every couple of minutes, a knowing smile on her face. You tried to ignore it but eventually you broke.
“What?” you were careful of your tone.
She laughed quietly and shook her head, “Nothing. Just, I think it’s nice that you’re keeping it, that’s all.”
“Mhm,” you tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks again, but that only made it worse.
You never told Nestor that you kept the cast. You never really knew exactly why you didn’t tell him—the two of you told each other pretty much everything else. The two of you spent almost all of your free time together, and as soon as he found out that your cast had been removed he was dragging you right back out to do things that could potentially break your arm all over again, and you let him. He never asked about the cast, so you never brought it up. There were moments, as the two of you got a little older, where you wanted to mention it to him in passing that it was something that you kept, but the moment never seemed quite right. Each time you went to clean out your room and your closet you would come across it, and each time you were faced with the decision of whether or not you wanted to keep it, and you always did. You always told yourself that you didn’t know why, but you knew.
--
“Alright,” you were trying not to let yourself get too emotional as you sat cross-legged on his bed watching him pack “You can’t do anything stupid while I’m not around to yell at you for it, alright?”
He chuckled as he shoved another shirt into his bag, “Trust me, there will be plenty of other people around to yell at me. That’s the whole point of—”
“But they can’t do it as well as I can.”
He glanced over at you, a small smile on his face. He knew how upset you were despite the fact that you were still being supportive. Him going into the Navy was something that you hadn’t seen coming. The thought of him being gone for so long after the two of you had spent so much of your lives practically joined at the hip was a bit jarring. You knew the ache in your chest was caused by more feelings than you were ready to admit to him, or to yourself.
“It’s not like you’ll never hear from me.”
You huffed, “Snail mail is not the same as bothering you in person,” you flopped backwards on the bed, “And for the record I still think it’s bullshit that you don’t get to call me.”
He laughed as he stood up and sat on the bed, looking down at you, “Don’t be dramatic. I’ll be in basic for less time than you had that stupid cast on your arm.”
“Yea but it’s not like you’re coming right home after that.”
He nodded, his expression sobering a little as he continued to look at you, “I know.”
“You’ll come home to visit me as soon as you can?”
He chuckled, nodding, “As soon as I can.”
For a moment you thought about spilling your guts—telling him everything that you were thinking and feeling. There was something about the way that he was looking at you that made you feel like maybe he felt the same way. But the confidence that shot through you went away as quickly as it appeared, and the moment passed as he continued to pack his things.
True to his word, you got letters in the mail. You saved each one, kept them stashed away in your closet alongside the cast that was still there collecting dust even after years of being shuffled around. You sent more letters than you received, not that you really minded. You figured that he needed them more than you did.
However as the months ticked by, you waited for him to say he was coming home, but he never did. It was one thing right into the next and the more time that passed by, the more you wondered if this was how he slipped away from you, even though he swore that that wouldn’t happen. He reached out when he could, when he had the time. And you knew that he had other priorities, and realistically you did too. But there was still part of you that felt like things were changing too much.
Your heart sped up inside your chest when you got a late-night phone call from him. You scrambled to answer it, “Hello?”
“Hey,” he sounded exhausted.
“Hey,” you pulled your blanket up to your chin as you spoke to him, “H-how are you?”
“I’m alright,” he sighed, “It’s good to hear your voice.”
You smiled despite the weight settling in your chest, “It’s good to hear yours too. I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
You didn’t want to push and pry, but you couldn’t help asking, “When are you coming home?”
There was a long pause before he spoke up again, “I, uh, I don’t really know.”
“Don’t they give you guys leave or something?”
He let out a tired chuckle, “Yea. But, um, I’m not sure if I’m going to be coming home for leave anytime soon.”
Your heart crumped inside your chest, “Why not?”
“Got some shit that I’m working on lining up here. Doesn’t hurt to stay close.”
You hated that your bottom lip was beginning to tremble, “Right.”
He knew you too well and you could hear the shift in his tone, “I’m sorry.”
“No, no,” you replied immediately, “Fuck, don’t be sorry. I’m proud of you, really. Keep…keep doing your thing.”
“Thank you for always being there. It’s been…it’s been nice knowing someone is in my corner when no one else seems to be,” there was a beat of silence, “You seen my family lately?”
You took a deep breath, “No. Why, everything alright?”
He sighed, “Wouldn’t know.”
You pressed your lips together into a tight line—things had never been simple for him when it came to family, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ll be home to see you as soon as I can be, alright?”
Your breath was shaky as you exhaled, “Alright,” you were about to say goodbye but your brain betrayed you, “Hey, Nestor?”
“Yea?”
“I love you,” the words fell from your lips, free of their confines after so many years of locking them away.
It might’ve been you projecting, but you could’ve sworn that he let out a sigh of relief, “I love you too.”
--
That was the last thing that you’d heard from him. He went radio silent after that. You wondered if it was just you that he was ignoring, but no one seemed to have heard anything from him—his own family included. The only things that were running through your mind were terrible. All of your calls went unanswered, all of your texts went unopened. The letters that you sent didn’t get kicked back to you but you never got responses to any of them either. He had blipped off the radar seemingly without a trace and you had no idea why. You lost a lot of sleep over it but at the same time, life didn’t stop for anyone. You had to keep moving forward while a very large part of you was stuck in the past.
You were packing up your room, getting ready to move into your own apartment. You were throwing things from your closet into random bags and boxes—organization had never been your strong suit. As you were leafing through everything, pulling things down off the top shelf of your closet, you were smacked in the face with a stack of papers. You managed to catch them before they hit the ground, tears instantly springing into your eyes when you realized what they were. Your heart sped up inside your chest as you stood on your tip-toes, reaching for the very back of the shelf. The feeling of the plaster underneath your fingers sent a shock through your body as you pulled it towards you. Looking over it, you were bombarded with an onslaught of memories.
Packing fell by the wayside as you sat on your bed, reading through the letters and looking over all the artwork that was still holding up on the cast. How you managed to keep your tears from falling, you didn’t know.
There was a light knock on your door and you looked up, trying to make yourself look much less upset than you were. The smile immediately dropped from your mother’s face when she saw what you were doing, how it was upsetting you. She leaned against the doorframe as she tried to figure out what to say to you to try and make things better.
“I’m sorry, honey,” her tone was sincere.
You shook your head as you set your cast to the side, “Don’t be. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You hadn’t really spoken much to her about it all—there wasn’t a whole lot to say. You didn’t have any answers and with each day that went by it was less likely that you would ever get them. It was difficult to tell whether or not it was more reassuring for you that no one had heard from him, not just you.
“There’s nothing to talk about. He just fucking disappeared, I guess. I just need to accept it and get on with my life.”
“He was your best friend—you’re allowed to be upset about it, you know.”
Even though you knew it, it was nice to hear her say it to you. Wiping the tears from your eyes before they could stain your cheeks, you nodded, “I know.”
She lightly drummed her fingers on the door frame, “You keeping those?”
There was a long pause before you finally nodded, “I think so.”
She nodded, “I’ll go grab you another box.”
--
“This thing looks like it’s been through the wringer,” your tattoo artist chuckled as she looked over the cast you’d brought with you.
You managed a smile, “Because it has. I’ve had that thing since I was in, fucking, like eighth grade I think? Long time.”
“What made you decide to get this done now?”
You shrugged, “I don’t know. Figured it’ll be better than moving it from one closet to the next over the course of my life.”
You could tell by the look on her face, that she wanted to ask for the story behind it all. But the fact that you didn’t offer it up, made her not pry. You’d always been open so if you were keeping something to yourself, she respected that. The two of you talked about the logistics of it, and the changes you want to make to clean it up a little bit. You were excited to come back and get it done, though.
Despite the wait, your excitement and nervousness about coming back didn’t fade. You didn’t regret the decision, but it was still nerve-wracking as you got ready to sit down in the chair. She had you look over the pattern she’d drawn up, and when you gave her the okay she laid the stencil out on your arm and got to work. You watched her as she brought it all to life—it was a little cleaner and more grown-up than the original scribbles and doodles, but it felt right. Tears stung at the edges of your eyes but it wasn’t because of the physical pain of getting the tattoo.
She was wrapping it up in saranwrap as she gave you the run-down of taking care of the tattoo. You’d heard the spiel before but you still listened anyway. You had a hard time taking your eyes off of the artwork as you made your way back out to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you let out a sigh as you tried to inspect the ink as best you could through the wrap around your arm.
The next day, you were putting on a fresh wrap over your tattoo after your shower when you heard your phone buzzing in the next room. With a heavy sigh, you slapped a piece of tape onto the wrap and scrambled to get to your phone before you missed the call. Looking down at the screen, you didn’t recognize the number. But it was an off-hour for a scammer to be calling so you answered it on a whim. Worst case scenario you would just hang up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, my name is Rita and I work at Imperial Hospital. I’m looking for Ms. Y/N?”
“Um, speaking?” you had no idea where this was going.
“Good morning. Someone was admitted and you are their only emergency contact—no next of kin listed. Do you know a Mr. Nestor Oceteva?”
Your heart dropped into your stomach, “Yes,” you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, “Yes I do. Is he alright?”
“He’s going to be fine,” her tone was calm enough to give you the smallest sliver of reassurance, “But we do need you to come in and answer some questions for us. He’s been in and out of it and we need someone who can give us reliable information.”
“O-okay. Yea. Yea I’ll leave right now. It’ll be about an hour or so before I get there though. Is that alright? He’s going to be okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s going to be fine. Thank you so much for your cooperation.”
You hung up the phone and started flying around your apartment to get ready. You had no idea what you were about to be walking into but at this point you didn’t care. All these years you’ve been wondering about him and he was two towns over. You were as angry as you were relieved.
The line of questions that the nurses asked you seemed endless. You knew that it was all important but there was nothing that you wanted more than to be in the room and see that it really was him, that this wasn’t just some cruel trick from the universe.
Finally, the nurse started walking you back. You only heard half of what she was saying to you about his condition as the two of you approached the room. You heard that he was stable and the rest didn’t really matter to you. your hands were trembling as she gestured to the door to his room, telling you that she would give you a few minutes to yourselves.
You slowly opened the door and a sob lodged itself in your throat as you looked at him. He was passed out, whether the sleep was genuine or from the meds you didn’t know. Truthfully, it was almost difficult to see that it was the Nestor you knew and loved—but you could still see it. Underneath the cuts and scrapes, beneath the braids and the tattoos, there was still your Nestor. The man you knew all those years ago was somewhere underneath it all.
Walking over, you collapsed in the chair next to his bed. You reached out and took his hand in your own, seeing the scars and scabs that covered his knuckles. Whatever he’d been doing all those years, it wasn’t treating him well. You let out a shaky breath as the tears started to fall. You tried to keep your emotions bottled up and quiet, but you couldn’t. There were too many there that you had been battling with and pushing down over the years.
Your crying made him stir. With a quiet groan of pain he opened his eyes and turned to look and see who was in the room with him. His entire body went stiff as his eyes flew completely open, unable to believe that you were sitting there with him.
“H-holy shit,” he coughed, trying to sit up, “Y/N?”
He was conscious and able to speak, so you punched him in the upper arm, “As soon as I can my ass, Nestor.”
He winced and smiled, and you could see all of the motions in his eyes, “I’m…I’m sorry.”
“You fucking should be.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
There were a few beats of silence and then he heard the crinkling of the wrap on your arm as you crossed them and he nodded towards it, “Fresh?”
Heat instantly flooded to your face and you fought the urge to get up and run out of the room, “Got it yesterday.”
“Can I see?”
You hated that he was talking to you like everything was normal, but you couldn’t lie and said that you didn’t miss it. Taking a deep breath, you laid your arm down on the hospital bed for him to inspect. A smile instantly took over his features when he saw what it was. He looked up at you, and when he saw the happiness and hurt both in your expression, his smile dulled a little bit.
“I’m so sorry.”
“What the fuck, Nestor?”
“I know, I know. I should’ve said something.”
“Uh…yea.”
“When they let me out of here, will you let me take you somewhere and tell you all about it?”
“I mean. I guess. But only because I’m nosey,” you managed a smile through the tears.
“I love you.”
The words made your heart skip a beat in your chest, “I love you too.”
“That’s way less clunky than a cast,” he tapped the plastic wrap.
You smiled, wiping the tears away, “Yea, I guess so.”
“I can’t believe you still have the same number after all these years.”
You paused, looking down at your hands, “I kept it in case your ass decided to smarten up and call me one of these days.”
“Hospital calling you on my behalf doesn’t count?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “No. No it doesn’t.”
He reached over and clasped your hand in his, “I’m really glad that you’re here.”
With a deep sigh, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his forehead, careful to miss all the scrapes, “Me too.”
There was so much more to be said, but it could wait. You tried to soak up the feeling of his hand over yours, smiles appearing on both of your faces despite the lost time and the gravity of the situation. A lot of things had changed, but as you felt the heat from his palm and the way his thumb traced back and forth over your hand, you knew the important things were still exactly the same.
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lemonpeter · 3 years
Text
🧡Day 3: S*x Work🧡
Harry has my brain right now I’m sorry lol I’m trying to think about Tony instead. I hope y’all enjoy 🧡
Warnings: Tony/Peter main focus, established Harry/Peter relationship, starker nff, s*x worker!Peter, Peter is over 18
***
Tony knew what was going on as soon as he saw the young man.
It wasn’t unusual for a host of an event to show up with someone hired. It looked good to have something pretty on your arm, and a hire was an easy fix when there wasn’t a partner in their life.
Although it did shock him to see a man on the arm of one Harry Osborn.
It was practically Harry’s coronation, a prince taking the throne of CEO. And Tony expected that he’d continue to be sucking up to his father. Doing everything just as he expected.
The looks of disdain that Norman kept throwing the two young men told Tony that he had been mistaken.
Who knew.
No matter what, the man was gorgeous. And was really good at his job.
He laughed at just the right moments, he mingled with every stuck up guest surrounding them, he gave the younger Osborn looks that could have fooled anyone into believing that they were actually in love.
Anyone but Tony, of course. He knew how it all worked.
After a while he lost track of the couple. He did some mingling of his own with business partners and former clients until the few drinks he had told him that it was time to find a restroom.
The venue was unfamiliar, so he found himself wandering down the hall and looking for signs that would lead him in the right direction.
Eventually he found a door that seemed right and he opened it before slamming it shut again. “Sorry!”
The image of that gorgeous arm candy on his knees was burned into his memory, though.
“Fuck.” He heard Harry mumble through the door. “Get up, someone’s already looking for us, Pete.”
A heavy sigh. “We’ve barely done anything. We can keep going for a minute-“
Tony was frozen, listening to them.
The door opened a moment later and he came face to face with a very flushed Osborn.
“Oh, fuck. Of course it was you.”
“I was just looking for a bathroom,” Tony blurted out. “Not looking for you.”
Harry didn’t look convinced. “Please just- don’t tell anyone. Although I know you have no reason to do me any favors.”
“Tell anyone what? Kid, I’m pretty sure that’s his job. No one cares.”
The other man stepped out, still straightening himself out. “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not here as an escort.”
“So you’re not-“ Tony didn’t buy it. Although maybe he was just hoping for his own sake.
Knowing that the angel in front of him was out of reach just might have broken his heart. He was that attracted to him. But he just couldn’t help it.
“I am. I mean, not an escort per se...” The young man crossed his arms. “But this isn’t a job.”
Harry groaned, covering his face. “I’m pretty sure this is making it worse, Pete.”
The other man - Pete? - just looked up at Tony, cocking his head to the side. “But it doesn’t matter. Harry, we’re out tonight, we’re out. Who cares what he says to anyone?”
Tony was stuck on the previous thing. “So you are a- well, whatever you want to call it?”
“Yes. I can give you my information if you want. And I don’t need a title, just call me Peter.”
He did want. He definitely did want that. But he was still confused. “If this isn’t a job then, what-“
“We’re together.”
That definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. He might have even staggered back a bit with how surprised he was. But maybe that was just his flair for the dramatic. It really was pretty shocking, though.
“O….Kay.” He’d ask later. For now, he was sticking with the information he had. And he had to find out how to get time with gorgeous Peter.
“How much for an hour?” Tony asked.
Peter didn’t miss a beat. “A grand.” At an annoyed sound from Harry he laughed. “But I’m not available for the next few hours.”
“I’ll pay ten if you’ll be with me right now.”
The couple exchanged a look. “Half an hour,” Harry countered.
“Sure, whatever you say.” Tony grinned. “Get back out to your party. Promise I’ll return him to you in one piece.”
Peter snorted, setting a timer on his phone. “Your thirty minutes starts now. What do you have in mind?”
Harry watched them warily. He kissed Peter’s cheek, sighing. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. It’ll be fast, don’t worry.”
Tony scoffed. “Was that an attack on my stamina? Because-“
“Thirty minutes isn’t long, Stark. That’s it.” Peter grinned. “So defensive.”
“You’re wasting my time, Osborn. Skedaddle.” Tony waved his hands.
Peter snorted, pulling him into the same room that they’d come out of.
Tony grinned at him. “Feisty. I like it.”
“Okay. Seriously, what do you want? Because we really don’t have that much time.” Peter was already reaching for Tony’s belt.
“First? I’m actually going to go find a bathroom. What I was trying to do before all this.” He felt a little bad about interrupting them, but figured that they could pick up where they left off later. And the thought that he once again pissed off an Osborn made him smile.
“K. Should I just wait here?” Peter moved his hands and leaned against the wall.
“Why would you follow me? Yes, stay here. Just a minute.” Tony opened the door again before pausing. “I still...don’t know where it is.”
“Maybe I should follow you.” Peter laughed under his breath. “You were, like, two doors off. To the left.”
“Thanks. Don’t go anywhere.”
Tony left and was back within a couple minutes, but he knew that he had very little time to waste. Half an hour wasn’t much at all.
Although he would definitely be getting Peter’s contact information for another time.
He was back in the small room where he left Peter, raising an eyebrow when he saw the younger man with his tie loose and shirt unbuttoned. “Eager?”
“Figured I wouldn’t just stand here while I waited. What, is this not what you wanted?” Peter teasingly moved his hands over his chest.
And how did he keep getting more and more perfect? The unbuttoned shirt revealed hard abs and a v that nearly made Tony drool. There needed to be statues of that body. He was halfway to thinking through the costs of such a thing when Peter’s laugh snapped him out of it.
“Down, boy.”
Tony snorted, a little surprised. “I’m not paying you to tell me to stop ogling. Remember, I’m way overpaying you for this.”
“It’s my personal time. I get to decide what’s overpaying.” Peter stepped forward, his fingers starting to unbutton Tony’s shirt. “Now. You have like…twenty three minutes left.”
“Half of what’s gone was because your boyfriend wouldn’t leave.”
“Mmm. You could have taken advantage of your time anyways. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen me with a client.”
Why was that so appealing to think about?
“Right. Well, first I actually want to talk. Is that okay?” Tony didn’t stop him from slowly unbuttoning his shirt anyway.
Peter nodded, confused. Everyone wanted to jump right into the good stuff, especially with such a short time. Although he never usually did less than two hours.
Maybe he was just curious as to what Tony had in mind.
“Alright. So you said you and Osborn are a thing, how long has that been going on?” He really had so many questions about that alone.
“Officially? Today’s our first time being out together. But we’re been a couple for a little over a year now. But we’ve known each other our whole lives. Grew up together and all that.” Peter made his way down Tony’s shirt as he talked, until it was hanging open.
“Huh. That’s interesting, I always assumed he was straight. Scandals with girls, yknow.” Tony slid his jacket and now-open shirt off.
The younger man nodded, hands on Tony’s hips. “Yeah, everyone assumed. But he hid it for a reason. His dad is pissed. And we knew he would be. So he just…tried to look one way. Threw everyone off.”
“Did a good job. I’ve never seen you before,” Tony commented. “I would have remembered.”
“That’s because I’m not associated with the company in any way. And the media isn’t interested in a random kid from Queens.” Peter shrugged, undoing Tony’s belt.
“Interesting.” The older man helped. “Well, I think that’s most of my questions. Can I touch you?”
Peter nodded, laughing a little. “You can. And happy to answer.” It was more than he would have answered with anyone else. He wasn’t really sure why he was so open with Stark. “What are you thinking you want me to do?”
“I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to get on your knees for me, honey.” Another thing popped into his head as he watched him get down. “So he’s okay with this? Being in a relationship while being in sex work?”
The younger man nodded, pulling Tony’s pants down his hips and thighs. “Yeah. I think sometimes he gets a little jealous but we work it out. We talk. I assure him that he’s the only one I actually love.”
Tony licked his bottom lip, nodding. “That makes sense. Alright, now I’m done. I don’t want to talk about him any more, I just want to think about you, gorgeous. Is that okay?”
“Perfectly okay.” Peter got his boxers down and let the man’s cock rest against his cheek. “Let’s really get started….”
***
They went over the half hour.
Not by much, only a couple minutes, but still. Tony noticed. And he mentioned it. But Peter only waved him off and finished getting him off.
They straightened themselves out when they were done and Tony pulled his phone out.
“I should have done this first, but do you have some kind of account I need to send the money to? Or-“
Peter shook his head quickly, taking his phone and adding himself as a contact. “Just think of this as a…test run. I’d feel bad charging you all that for one bj.”
Tony blinked, taking his phone back when it was pressed into his hands. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Now go away, I’ll come in in a minute. We don’t need to look like we’re coming in together.” Peter pulled his own phone out and winced when he saw how swollen his lips were.
“Okay. Thank you.”
The young man shot him a small smile. “No problem.”
Tony made his way back to the ballroom, still trying to make sense of everything that happened.
He made eye contact with Harry as he came in and gave him a small nod. He didn’t know what else to do, his mind still fogged by everything.
He’d definitely be calling Peter soon.
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make-me-imagine · 4 years
Text
Daffodils: New Beginnings
Valentines Special: Day Eight
Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips   //  Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus - Day Nine: Red Roses (link to post with all endings listed)
Plot: The reader keeps receiving flowers and sweet messages every day from an anonymous source leading up to Valentines Day. But who is sending them?
Choose your own character ending (coming on Valentines Day).
Gender!Neutral Reader x ???
Triggers: Brief mention of fighting        Words: 1,569
Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​​​, @thebookbakery​​​, @groovyfluxie​​ Requested Taglist: @spuffyfan394​​​, @gaitwae​​​, @fablesrose​​​, @kitkatd7​​​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​​​, @beksib​​​, @destynelseclipsa​​​, @criminaly-supernatural​​​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​​​, @snarky--starky​​​, @saintbootlegloras​​​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​​​, @empath-bunny​​​, @okkulta​​​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​​​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs​​​  , @anonymous-pls-dont-click​​​ , @username23345​​​, @hulkswitch​​​, @theofficialzivadavid​​​, @lainphotography​​​, @fred-deeks-ben​​​, @normanijauregui​​​, @goinggoinggonzo​​, @mxxnmocha​​, @euphouriaszn2​​, @trikruismybitch​, 
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February 13th
"You sure you’re alright?” Wanda asked as she watched your rub your shoulder. 
“I’m good, just a little sore.” you said reassuringly. 
You had been called out on a mission with Steve, Wanda, and Natasha to check out a possible hit on a SHIELD office. You managed to catch the assault team before they made it into the building, but a fight broke out. When you were fighting one of the men, he pulled you down a short flight of stairs, you banged your shoulder pretty bad, but it seemed to be alright now. 
You were riding back to the tower now, sitting in the back seat with Wanda.
“You should get your shoulder checked out when we get back, just in case.” Steve said, looking at your through the drivers mirror. 
“Is that an order Captain?” you asked with sarcasm as you leaned forward, talking to Steve over the seat. 
You could see him smirk at your question as he peaked back at you “If it has to be, then yes.” 
You smiled in amusement as you sat back in your seat “Yes sir” you said, saluting, making Wanda chuckle and Natasha and Steve smirk at your response. 
Doing just as he said, you had your shoulder scanned in the medical wing once you returned. But finding no real damage you went back to work. Entering into the large main room, you staggered back as a man carrying a large box passed by you when you came through the doors. Looking around you saw a bunch of people walking around. It took you a moment before you remembered that they were the people hired to set up the Valentines party.
This room was going to be the main room for the party, tables set up for the dinner and a stage in the front for the entertainment. Seeing through the large doors to your left, you figured that would be where the dancing would take place. 
Looking around, you could tell the color scheme was going to be gold and red, classy, but a bit gaudy in some areas. You saw Tony walk through nearby doors, explaining something to one of the decorators, turning, he spotted you. Leaving the decorator with a last instruction he walked over to you. 
“So, what do you think so far?” he asked as he stood next to you, motioning to the room. 
“No chocolate fountain?” you asked with sarcasm. 
You saw his eyes light up as he snapped his finger “A chocolate fountain!” Turning to one of the nearby people, he got their attention “Any chance of getting a chocolate fountain?” 
You rolled your eyes “Tony, that’s too much!”
“No no, it’s a good idea” he said to you before looking back to the other person who began writing something down “And get some skewers, fruit and marshmallows, it can be like a giant fondue station.” 
“That doesn’t sound very sanitary” you said with a frown.
He hesitated for a moment “No, it’ll be fine, we’ll put up a sign, no double dipping” You shook your head with a laugh as he turned fully towards you “So, how’d your little mission go?”
“Fine, we stopped the assault, arrested all of the members, Nat and Clint will be questioning them.” 
Tony opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted as someone called him from across the room “Go ahead, I’ve got to get back to work anyway” you said as you parted ways. Leaving the room you felt anxious again thinking about the party and what would happen. Trying to shake away the anxiety, you got back to work. 
- - -
You managed to distract yourself by working the rest of the day, and now you were sitting at the kitchen bar in the public part of the tower. Public meaning it could be accessed by all of the Avengers. 
“Hey” Wanda greeted as she wandered in “What are you doing in here?” 
You smiled at her and lifted your hand in greeting “Just finished work, I’m waiting for the rest of the party planners and decorators to leave for the day, they are constantly using the elevators and stairs, filling them with people and stuff.” you chuckled. 
She sat down next to you “Yeah, I couldn’t even get to the elevator in the first place” she chuckled “How’s your shoulder?”
“It’s good, no pain anymore.” you responded “So, are you looking forward to Tony’s party?” you asked her. 
She shrugged “Not particularly. I’m not one for crowded parties.”
“Me neither, but Tony will never get over it if I don’t show up, you too probably.”
“Oh yes I know, he told me so himself” you both chuckled. 
"Tony and his parties.” you commented just as the doors opened. Clint, Steve and Natasha walking in. 
“Ah, there you two are. “ Clint said as they made there way over to you. Clint and Steve sat at the bar with you and Wanda as Nat moved behind the bar. 
You sat and talked with the others for a while, about today’s planned attack, about who they were hired by, and then about Tony’s party. You started to feel the now familiar anxiety rise in your chest. Making yourself yawn, you feigned drowsiness before rising “Alright, I need to get some sleep.” you said, knowing that, though you were tired, you might not be able to sleep anyways. 
“Goodnight” Wanda, Nat and Steve said as you began to leave.
“Hey” Clint said.
Turning back to him you rose your brow. “Did you get any flowers from your secret admirer today?” he asked with a smirk.
“Ooh, yeah I almost forgot about that” she smirked as she looked at you. Wanda and Steve turned to look at your as well. 
“Uhh, no, but I haven’t been back to my room since lunch, soo”
“Soo, maybe there will be something now?” Nat said with a smile. 
Saying nothing you just smiled, cocked your head and then spun around, leaving in silence. Hearing chuckling from the others behind you as you left. You had actually successfully been distracted to the point where you forgot about the flowers. 
Luckily all of the decorators and planners had been long gone, so you could make your way to your room easily. As you stopped at your floor, you braced yourself for what would be on the other side, feeling a sense of familiar excitement. 
As the doors slid open, your eyes were already trained on your door. And placed at the bottom, was a tall bouquet of pale yellow daffodils tied together with white silky ribbon, a note dangling from the side. 
Quickly making your way to your door, you unlocked it before picking up the bouquet and going inside. This was the last bouquet you would get before learning who was behind all of this tomorrow. Your heart seemed to be hammering in your chest as you stared at the note.
You were almost afraid to read it. You hesitated before setting it down and going to the bathroom. Getting ready for bed, you grabbed the flowers and put them into a vase, a new one you bought at the store. Sitting on your bed, you fiddled with the note in your hand. Slowly opening it, you psyched yourself up a bit before you began to read the note. 
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Daffodils
Daffodils mean “New Beginnings”. I chose these because tomorrow will be the start of a new beginning for the two of us. No matter what happens. I, of course have my own wishes of how tomorrow will go, and I am sure you do as well. Perhaps you have your own desires of who I am, and I hope that I do not disappoint you when you find out who I am.
I have so much more I want to write, but cannot seem to put it properly into words. I’m sure we are both nervous about tomorrow, but I do truly feel as though we are meant to be. And though I cannot see the future, I know tomorrow will be the start of something new, and I can only hope that it will be great. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Reading over the note a few times you lied back on your bed as you stared up at the ceiling. You had stopped trying to figure out who it could be. Knowing that they were careful enough not to let anything seem obvious. And if you had been talking to them one on one, or when everyone would be talking about the flowers, they were careful enough not to say anything that would make them seem suspicious. 
For a moment, you debated not going to the party at all. And chickening out instead. But you only entertained the thought for a moment before you felt guilt for even thinking it. They did not deserve that. No matter how afraid you might be about what might happen tomorrow, they didn’t deserve to be stood up, especially not after everything they have said and done. But then again, what if they stand you up? What if they change their mind, and you never find out who they are?
You closed your eyes, your thoughts running rapid through every possibility of what could happen tomorrow. Eventually, without really realizing it, you had drifted off to sleep.
xx xx xx xx xx
Sooo, tomorrow is the day!
I will be releasing every ending throughout Valentines Day (10 in total); starting around 5am MST. Let me know if you want to be tagged in any specific endings.
The endings will be: Bucky, Steve, Tony, Bruce, Thor, Loki, Clint, Natasha, Vision and Wanda. 
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frostedfaves · 4 years
Text
Repercussions (15)
Masterlist
Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Summary: Natasha and Wanda search for their printsessa with the help of Tony.
Warnings: dark themes, gun use, blood mention, serious injury
A/N: am I devastated that this is the final part of one of my favorite things I’ve ever written? absolutely! but I’m also really happy with myself for being able to turn the images in my head for this ending into coherent words. I’ve been holding onto this idea for weeks and I’m ecstatic to see everyone’s response to it. I’ll be letting you know later on this week what’s coming next! 👀
Previous part
-
With Clint’s assistance, Natasha and Wanda were able to quickly create a plan and make their way to the last base, using the fear and anger of their girlfriend’s disappearance to barrel through anyone that stood in the way of intel collection. They wasted no time in waking everyone up when they returned to the safe house.
“Is there a security breach?” Steve questioned as the group gathered, and Natasha tossed the hard drive at him.
“We got everything, and we need to get back--”
“Oh, I get it,” Sam cut in with an eye roll. “They rushed through the mission to get back to their girlfriend so they can cuddle and all that cute shit--”
“She’s missing!” Wanda growled as her eyes began to glow, causing Sam to step back a few feet with wide eyes.
Everyone aside from Clint started asking questions all at once, and Natasha shut them all down with a stern command to be ready to fly out in ten minutes. Bags were packed and bodies were dressed as the team rushed to get to the jet, afraid of what might happen if they delayed the two women any longer.
“While we’re checking out the house, I need someone looking into Wesley L/N,” Natasha ordered, nodding as Tony volunteered and sending him all the information she had.
“Who is this, her brother?”
“Her cousin, if that’s even true--”
“It is, we checked the family history,” Wanda insisted, grabbing Natasha’s hand with a shaky breath. “They’re really close, he wouldn’t hurt her.”
“We don’t know that! Anyone can do something terrible if they’re pushed far enough--”
“Stop! Just fucking stop!” Wanda cried out as she covered her face with her hands, and Natasha moved to wrap her arms around her as she sat in the seat beside her.
“I’m sorry, Wan. I’m just worried and my brain is wired to go to the worst case scenario instantly.”
Wanda simply sniffled as tears started spilling down her cheeks again, leaning her head against Natasha’s shoulder as she accepted the comforting embrace. After a few minutes of silence between the pair, Wanda dropped her hands into her lap as she glanced at green eyes already absentmindedly staring at her, lowering her voice as she spoke.
“I want to ruin his mind before we kill him.”
-
The house felt empty and colder without your presence, every step on the carpeted floor of the front room seemed to echo around the building. Tears threatened to build in Wanda’s eyes again but she held them back, intent on believing that they will find you and bring you back where you belong. Only they could take care of what you needed.
A heavy feeling washed over their hearts when they entered your solo room and discovered some of your clothes and shoes were missing, along with the travel bag you’d first arrived with. The guest room Wesley resided in was also void of his presence, and anything that could clue them into where he’d taken you. 
“Tash, look.”
Natasha followed her gaze to the security room, cursing loudly in Russian when she noticed the door left wide open. She stormed inside, clenching her fist in anger when she noticed the tiny plastic baggie holding the miniscule tracker that was supposed to be in your leg right now.
“He’s a psychiatrist, not a fucking surgeon!” she fumed as she showed the object to Wanda. “How did he get this out?!”
Wanda walked around her to get to one of the computers, logging in as fast as her fingers would allow her to type and bringing up the security footage from the last several days. For the most part, the two of you acted normally, doing all the things you’d told them about like playing games and watching TV, but the sight of the two of you emerging from the TV room in the basement and entering the game room brought something to her attention.
“Did you see that?” She backed up the footage and switched over to slow motion. “She’s limping.”
“Isn’t that the day she hurt her leg in the backyard?”
“Yes, but…” The backyard footage is brought up next and skipped through until the moment of your ‘injury’. “This happened almost two hours later, meaning--”
“It was a cover for the tracker removal.” Natasha cursed once more as she released a frustrated sigh. “She’s getting locked in her room as soon as she gets back here.”
A notification similar to a phone ringing went off on one of the monitors, and the two women scurried over to answer the incoming call from Tony.
“Everything you had on this Wesley kid checks out, no criminal history or secret ties to any Hydra related groups, or anything else you have to worry about. However, I tried tracking and hacking into his phone and it seems to be wiped clean. So I got into his phone records with his cell company and his last call was made to an unsaved number connected to someone named Kendall, last known address in Nebraska.”
“Send it to us, please.”
They were on their feet as soon as the call ended, grabbing the mission bags abandoned in the doorway and heading off to their respective rooms to repack for the trip.
In nearly the same moment, you were in your safe house in Nebraska, rounding the corner to enter Wesley’s room. He knew something was wrong by the way your eyes watered and your shaky hand held onto the bugging device.
“They found us.” There was no questioning tone in his voice, but you answered with a nod anyway.
“Pack everything you brought and get out of here, drive toward the west coast until you run out of gas and hide wherever you stop.”
“What?! I can’t leave you here! They’ll just take you back and it’ll be worse than before.”
“I’ll be fine, Wes,” you assured him with a gentle squeeze of your hand over his. “I planned for this too, and if I know them as well as I think, I’ll be free to come find you.”
-
Wesley was packed and gone within the next hour, and you worked quickly to transform the space, make it seem as if you’d been the only one to reside in the home. Once that was set, you changed clothes and positioned yourself in an armchair against the wall in the front room, a gun resting in your lap. You didn’t move when a knock was heard on the front door that night, simply waited until the visitors got impatient and picked the lock to force their way in.
“You worried us, printsessa, disappearing like that,” Natasha addressed you in a chilling tone as the two of them stopped a few feet away from you. “And we’ll deal with that later, after you tell Wesley to come out so we can punish him first.”
“He’s not here,” you told her calmly. “His only job was to bring me here--”
“And take the tracker out of your leg, which we will be putting back,” Wanda interjected with a stern expression. “Now, you can either come with us to the car willingly or we’ll drag you.”
“I won’t be doing either of those things.” You stood slowly, lifting the gun to your temple as you went. “Your only choices are to leave me here and go back to the way your lives were before I came in, or you can let me die. If you take me again, I’ll just fight you every day until you wish you’d killed me yourself. No matter how you manipulate my mind, my true self will never love someone who wants to control me. I’ll tell you how much I hate you for ruining my life every second I’m able, and I’ll kill myself the moment I get the chance to do so.”
You noticed the glassy look in their eyes as they faced each other, and you knew they were having a silent conversation in their minds. Seconds felt like minutes as they seemed to discuss their options, eventually turning back to face you. Wanda was fully crying now, and Natasha seemed to be physically holding back her own emotional break.
“We always thought we’d be able to love and care for you until our dying days.” Her shaky voice filled the quiet room. “But we understand if you don’t want that, and we’re sorry that you’ll never be able to love anyone else.”
Before you had time to react, Natasha was pulling a gun out and aiming it at your heart, the sound of the shot echoing and triggering Wanda’s instant sobbing. Natasha was quick to pull her into her arms, facing her away from you as you tumbled to the ground, your own weapon sliding away as your free hand weakly pressed against the oversized sweatshirt that covered your wound.
The two women hurried out of the house as you began to choke and cough up blood, not able to stomach hearing or seeing anymore, and the sound of a car speeding off echoed throughout the neighborhood. Waiting another minute or two to be sure they left, you got up to walk off to the bathroom, wiping the fake blood off your palm the best you could. After slipping the bulletproof vest off your torso and washing your hands, you quickly rinsed your mouth and brushed your teeth to get rid of the red stains, lifting your head to look in the mirror with a smile when you were done.
You looked pretty good for a dead woman.
-
Tags: @littlegasps @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @imnotasuperhero @creepingwolfberry @emilyprentisswife @cherrieloco @bebe404 @seventeen0 @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @fayhar @becka107 @wannabe-fic-reader @beforeoursecrets @cosmicbrownies7 @messuhp @mjaudrey @sxphiaswitch @trikruismybitch @muted-stoneheart @multi-images @just-a-normalpersons @want-to-watch-it-burn @stop-drop-and-drumroll @stickystudentlightmug @pianogirl2121 @welcometothepeanutgallery @witchxaf @natashadeservedmore @sakurat123 @darkangelxoxo @haiiiloeee2
585 notes · View notes
shyficwriter · 3 years
Text
I've Got You
Guardians of the Galaxy Fanfic | Reader x Guardians (Yondu is alive)
Summary: After you never let anyone else listen to your music Rocket and the guys decide they want to see what potentially embarrassing songs you have on your music player, but find something else entirely.
Author's Note: ANGST! This story does NOT have a happy ending, or an ending at all really. It may be funny at the start but it's all angst at the end and it'll make you cry. Proceed with caution. This isn't even a joke- it gets heavy. I was going through some stuff... If you think this might trigger anything for you at all, skip this one.
Content Warning: Mentions of suicide/depression.
Word Count: 2,508
You didn't mind sharing with the rest of the gang. You really didn't. You'd share your clothes with Mantis, your food with Groot, and your books with Drax. There was very little you didn't share, except for one thing, and that was your music player.
Anytime someone would occasionally ask to borrow it you would always make up an excuse, usually: "Nah, you wouldn't like my music." and that was usually that for a little while. But, of course, eventually someone would ask again and you'd have to make the same excuses over again. Once you even told Peter it was all accordion music so he'd stop asking to compare playlists. That worked for a bit, until a week later you forgot you had told him that and said how much you hated accordion music when the topic of Polka was brought up. Oops. Well, there went that excuse.
One day was different, however.
You were walking in Peter's ship, minding your own business with your headphones in when Rocket motioned to you. He was sitting at a table with Groot. You paused your player and removed one of your earbuds. "What's up?"
"Groot was trying to ask if he could listen with you. but of course you had your volume up like always."
"You're going to damage your hearing if you keep that up," said Gamora, sitting on the other side of the room with Drax.
You ignored her, turning your attention back to Rocket. "Oh. I don't think that's a good idea.." you said with a wince, feeling bad for having to tell the little guy 'no.' Other than Mantis, he was the one you always felt the most guilty saying 'no' to. Those puppy-dog eyes were killer.
Rocket eyed you suspiciously. "Why? Quill lets him do it all the time?"
He was right. Peter did let little Groot listen to music with him quite often. But you weren't Peter.
Peter startled you when he came up from behind you with Yondu, saying, "Yeah, you're weirdly possessive of that thing. It won't hurt to let him have a listen."
'It might.' you thought. "He might be better off listening to your music, we already know he likes that."
"What's wrong with yers?" Yondu asked, who agreed with Peter about the weirdly possessive thing. You barely ever let that thing out of your sight.
You tried to think of something, "It's uh, not really appropriate..."
Yondu chuckled, "Are ya trying to say ya have dirty songs on that player of yers?"
You blushed. That's not exactly where you were going with that, but if it works... "I'd just say my music isn't exactly, uh.. kid friendly."
Your blush only made it more convincing that this whole time you had been hiding embarrassing music on your device. Rocket raised an eyebrow in amusement and Peter laughed too. "There's no way I'm gonna believe you have dirty songs on there. Let me see." he said, moving to reach for your music player.
You quickly put it in your pocket. "Nope! Bye." you said, turning on your heels and making your way to leave the ship, glad you were docked on a planet as it gave you an escape. "Gonna go head out for a walk, be back soon!"
Peter looked slightly disappointed, but let you go.
Once you were gone Rocket spoke up. "You know, I think I know a way how we can sneak a listen to what she's got that's so secret on there," he said, smirking. "Ya know, if you want..."
Yondu and Peter shared a glance before looking over at Gamora, sure she'd reject the idea in favor of your privacy. Surprisingly, she nodded in agreement.
"I have to admit, now I'm curious too." Gamora said with an almost embarrassed shrug.
And with that it was settled. Rocket told them his plan.
***
The next day when you went to retrieve your music player from your nightstand drawer, it was there as expected. However, when you went to power it on nothing happened.
You groaned, walking out into the common area to look for Peter. Once you found him you asked if he had any spare batteries, only to be disappointed when he didn't.
"Although," Peter said, "If you're gonna walk down to the store to get some I'll transfer you some units to bring back a case of soda."
You agreed to bring him back some soda, but told him not to worry about the units as you headed out the door, having been convinced to take little Groot with you last minute. You never could resist those little eyes of his.
The team waited a few moments to make sure you weren't coming back for anything before telling Rocket to make his hasty trip to go get your music player from your room.
Your batteries hadn't died, Rocket had just quietly replaced them with dead ones while you were sleeping. He switched them back once he got back to where the rest of the team had gathered around the table.
Rocket grinned, thinking he was about to hit the jackpot on embarrassing secrets from you. "What do ya think it is?" he asked, handing the player to Peter. "I bet it's boy-bands."
Peter powered on the player and snickered. "What if it's that Justin Bieber guy that was always on the radio when we went to Terra?"
"Oh, he was awful. I would also be embarrassed to be caught willfully listening to his music." Drax said.
"I dunno, I still kinda think she's got dirty songs on there," Yondu laughed. "Ya saw how she blushed."
Peter rolled his eyes and began scrolling through your playlists. He raised an eyebrow. "I hardly recognize any of these songs." he said. "The only ones I recognize are ones I've already got on mine."
"Let me see," offered Kraglin. "I know more Xandarian songs, maybe they're some of those?" He scrolled for a bit before as Peter got up to grab something from a trunk behind him.
Peter sat back down and Kraglin handed the player back, shaking his head. "I don't recognize them either. Maybe they're Terran?"
"We'll see." Peter said, plopping the device he got from the trunk on the table and plugging it into the player. It was a speaker. "Here, now we can all hear it. Which one should I try first?"
"What's in her 'Recent's' list?" Gamora asked.
"First one says "Stay Alive," Peter says, "Oh! I actually think I know that one. My grandad used to listen to it, it's so old!" he laughed. "I didn't expect her to be into disco music though..." Peter hit play and as the lyrics came out he realized he was mistaken. "Oh... that's... That's not the song I thought it was at all..." he said in surprised concern.
♫♩"... Stay alive, stay alive For better days to come around.
When nothing is right in your head And all of your tears are shed I know how it seems, you're in this too deep But take it from me, it's not the end..." ♫♩
"Um..." Peter swiped to play a new, hopefully less depressing, song.
♫♩"Do you ever feel like breaking down? Do you ever feel out of place?" ♫♩
Nope. Peter swiped again.
♫♩"All day starin' at the ceilin' makin' Friends with shadows on my wall All night hearing voices tellin' me That I should get some sleep Because tomorrow might be good for somethin' Hold on, feelin' like I'm headed for a breakdown And I don't know why" ♫♩
Peter furrowed his brow. The others shared concerned glances, but didn't say anything. He swiped again.
♫♩"It's caving in around me What I thought was solid ground I tried to look the other way But I couldn't turn around" ♫♩
*Swipe*
♫♩"Hello darkness my old friend..." ♫♩
Peter could already tell it was another depressing song, he backed out of the screen into the list of recently played songs seeing titles like: "Nightmare," and "I'm not okay (I promise)," and unfortunately more bluntly: "Don't try Suicide." They listened to a few more songs, and they were all depressing. You did have happier songs on your music player, but your "Recents" list was full of much more depressing songs, as if that's all you had listened to for a long time.
Nobody was smiling anymore, Rocket looked like he was sorry he came up with this idea. Even Drax clearly understood that they hadn't discovered anything good.
Yondu's expression was hard, "Well, I don't like this at all."
"I think we made a mistake." Mantis said, concern painting her features.
"But... she always seems so... ok?" Rocket said, his ears lowered. You were his friend. His prank buddy. He had no idea. "Do you really think...she, you know...?"
"I don't know? I mean, do you think she'd really not say anything if she was hurting this much? Wouldn't Mantis at least have picked up on it?" Peter asked. He looked over at Mantis expectantly.
"I can only feel other's emotions if I touch them," she started, "and... she's never actually let me touch her."
"What should we do?" asked Gamora.
***
You walked in a few minutes later to just catch the last bit of Peter saying something about having a talk with you.
"Have a talk with me about what?" you asked.
It was clear you had startled them, Gamora having spun to face you upon hearing you speak up, and she almost never got startled.
You chuckled, walking nearer the table to place your grocery sack on it. Groot hopped off your shoulder to run across the table to Rocket. "Oh gosh, I didn't mean to scare you guys! I got the soda you asked for- ...what's that?" Your demeanor changed from almost cheery to nervous, the blood draining from your face when you saw what was very clearly your music player plugged into a speaker. Your eyes shot to Peter, the one closest to your device. "Peter? What the fuck?"
"It was Rocket's idea!" Peter exclaimed, his guilt having managed to trip his self-preservation switch.
Rocket didn't even try to deny it. He looked at the ground, "I thought it'd be funny..." he muttered. Groot looked at him in confusion. His friend usually never looked sorry for anything.
You snatch your player from the table. It was currently off, leading you to believe there might have been a chance they didn't listen yet. "Boundaries!" you scold, putting the player in your pocket. "Seriously uncool!"
You went to turn around but you bumped into Yondu who had walked around the table while you were scolding Peter.
"Sit." he said, his face stony.
You look up at him in surprise before Gamora spoke up. "We... listened to the songs you had on your player... We just want to talk."
You just stare at her for a moment. "Seriously guys, what the fuck?!" you say, your tone exasperated and your eyebrows knitted together. "You know what? No. I don't want to talk. I'm going back out."
Yondu grabbed your arm as you tried to push past him. "No. Yer gonna sit." with that he walked you to the nearest open chair and made you sit. His tone wasn't angry, but it was firm.
You felt knots tying in your stomach. Gamora spoke again.
"Look, we're sorry we took your music player without asking, but now that we have, we're concerned."
You pinch the bridge of your nose. No. No no no. "I literally told you guys so many times-"
"I know," Peter said, "but please... Just- we need to know if you're ok."
"Of course I'm ok!" you lied. "Why would I not be ok?!"
"Cut the crap." Kraglin said. His tone didn't seem angry either, it almost seemed sad. "I seriously doubt you'd be listening to all that depressing stuff if you were actually ok."
You attempt to stand again, saying, "Look just screw off-" before you were silenced by Yondu firmly pushing down on your shoulder to stop you.
"Look, we care about ya, ya lil' shit, and we ain't about to just let ya keep suffering if yer hurtin."
That tore something in you.
"Please- guys." You clenched your jaw and looked at the floor. No. Fuck. Not right now. "Just-" You inhaled sharply. Dammit. You were not about to start crying right now. You screwed your eyes shut, before covering your face when you realized that wasn't going to stop the tears and not wanting them to see. "Fuck!"
It all flooded you. All the hurt. All the pain. The hopelessness. The humiliation of the current situation. The guilt of your friends worrying about you. The numbness shattering as white hot pain tore through your soul. You felt what you thought was Gamora putting a comforting hand on your shoulder and you tried to hold back a sob as every bad thought you had about yourself came flooding in. You started to shake, feeling shame as memories of thoughts about ending it all leaked out your eyes. How many nights you had stood in front of the airlock weighing whether that night would finally be the night you pushed that button.
From behind you you heard a strangled cry. A cry of pure anguish. It was only then you realized the hand on your shoulder couldn't have been Gamora's. It had come from behind you. She had been standing in front of you. You quickly jerk forward and turn around in your seat, wrenching yourself from Mantis's hand- but it was too late.
Mantis nearly doubled over, hands clawed into her chest as a sob lodged itself in her lungs. She had only wanted to make you feel better. She wasn't expecting the torrent to flood into her so forcefully, hadn't realized this wasn't something she could just make go away with her abilities. She had felt everything.
The others looked at her with wide, startled eyes. Drax pulled her in and held her, not really knowing what to do but trying to make the hurt go away. Poor little Groot didn't understand what was happening, and Rocket held him so he couldn't see. Peter and Gamora shared an alarmed glance.
You were speechless. You could only stare in horror witnessing what you- or rather your pain- had done to her. "Mantis-" was all you could manage, not knowing what else to say. You barely noticed your tears now started flowing freely down your cheeks. You stood up to run away, but just like every other time you had tried, Yondu stopped you. Only this time he pulled you tightly to his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were a newborn.
"Girl, why didn't you tell us?" you heard him say softly.
You allowed yourself to be held, not realizing until that very moment just how badly you had needed to be. Fresh sobs broke from you and you buried your face into his chest when he said, "Shh now, little girl, I've got you."
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gojology · 4 years
Text
Job Benefits. (Part One)
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new beginnings ‧₊˚✩彡. - chapter one.
you can find part two here : part two : undesirable
pairing : ceo! gojo x female reader
warnings : cursing
wordcount : 1960
a/n : something that i’ve been working on for a while now. this is self indulgent as all hell and i’m starting a new series n idk when it’ll end necessarily but ceo gojo is all i need in my life. also i have like 300 million requests to go through but i PROMISE i’ll get them done! i just need to finish my valentines event thingy and i’ll be open! 
it has come to my attention that gojo is his surname and i’m too lazy to fix anything other then the first name basis part im so sorry LOl
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         It’s no secret that you like working the office.      Even as a child you enjoyed the formal atmosphere when you walked into your parent’s workplace, and even better, you enjoyed organizing stuff. Growing up, your favorite pass time was cleaning and organizing which caused you to excel in school, coupled with your natural smarts. Your peers would constantly tease you, telling you that you were a boring kid- but hey, you’d be making lots of money, and what better job would there be for you, aside from being someone’s secretary?      Those were the first words that came across your mind as soon as you stepped into the prestigious building, heels rhythmically hitting the stainless floor, suitcase in hand. It was also the first lie that you’d tell yourself in there.      You had known about this company even as a child. One that sold just about everything, the most notable being luxurious clothing, but something the company was also well known for? How attractive the family was.      Sure it was a bit weird, but in defense of the general public their appearances were rare, only once in a while you’d see the family on TV. Waving in their limousine, blowing kisses and doing things rich people do, or maybe ignoring the cheering crowd of journalists and news reporters, hell like you knew.     Catching glimpses of the wildly white haired family was something every paparazzi threw themselves at, and picking up a magazine or going to search something on the internet would be sure to be chock full of pictures of the esteemed family. The highlight of the family being the son, just because of how handsome he was, and also happened to be the most publicly known and fawned over family member-     Gojo fucking Satoru.      Luckily for you, he was your boss, so you could probably reveal the tiniest of secrets and make major bank. Unluckily for you, he was childish as all hell, not to mention you found childish people incredibly annoying. The worst thing? You were his secretary.      That could only spell out doom for a man like him, and a woman like you, who only wanted to get business done and nothing else. You two truly did not mix.     Two months prior, you had gotten the job and was finally excited to have stable income after graduating. Your hirers didn’t tell you anything about having to babysit a manchild though.     And so, that’s how you found yourself sitting in the comfortable plush leather office chair, fumbling under the piles of paperwork and fan letters, cursing your boss’s name under your breath for being so unconcerned with work. Scheduling appointments, interviews, sending e-mails of unacceptance to eager authors asking to write an auto-biography, that was your life.      You’d be content with it if your boss was normal.      As soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s like he heard you think.     “(Y/N)-chan~!” you hear a familiar sing-songy voice down the rather short hallway. Your office resided right next to his, and it would only take him 30 seconds or so to walk down to your door, presumably to annoy the hell out of you. You grunt, blowing a stray hair out of your face.     This also meant that you could hear him sing from his office, even through the thick walls.      Choosing to ignore it, you instead furiously typed to another business executive’s secretary who had just emailed you about a meeting between Gojo and- well you weren’t quite sure who.      “(Y/N)-chan~ I know you hear me, don’t you know it’s disrespectful to not listen to your seniors?” his playful, deep voice was growing closer, and you straighten your back, sighing. You didn’t sign up to be a daycare worker, yet this was what you found yourself doing most of the time.      “I’m sorry, Satoru-sama, please instill me with your great knowledge, oh wise one.” rolling your eyes and rubbing your temples, you glance up from your laptop, bracing yourself for whatever would happen next. Gojo leaned on the frame of your door, head ducking slightly. He was way too tall to walk under it without any issue.      He was unnecessarily calm though, normally he’d be jumping around your office, making a mess of things, but his body language told otherwise. He was slacking off from his duties, obviously, so you weren’t too sure why he’d be acting so... Chill.     With his arms crossed, he gave you a mischievous side eye.     Growing impatient, you stand up, your knuckles grinding against the tabletop. Your brow knitted together as he peered down on you, almost tauntingly, and you hated it.  “Listen, boss. I have a lot to do today, for you, might I add as I am your secretary- and if you’re going to sit around I don’t think I’ll get to these emails and phone calls and everything fast enough. May I kindly assist you with anything? If not I’ll have to ask you to go back to... Whatever you were doing.”      Gojo looked at you, wide-eyed and unblinking, like he didn’t expect such a sassy remark. “Oh my, sweetie. Someone has a naughty mouth... To your boss of all people? How mean! I don’t think I remember putting, ‘allowed to be rude to the Satoru clan’ down on the job benefits.. What’s with the formal tone as well? So unnecessary, just be yourself when you’re talking to me.”     He sauntered closer to your desk, and your breath hitched, this was one of the first times you’d seen him up close like this, and you swore that you could hear your heart beating rapidly inside of your chest. You don’t know what that could mean; but what you did know was that you wanted to slap him or punch a hole into the glass window right behind you and throw him off the 15 floor building. Leaning in close to your ear, he whispered:      “Or, if you wanna stick with the business voice- call me sir. Got that?”     You nod before looking down at your desk, feeling your body heat up for seemingly no particular reason. Did this guy have any knowledge of a private bubble? Whatever, this was your superior. If it was any boss you’d probably be fired by now. You were lucky to be forgiven.     “Yes, sir. May I comment on something... Er, sir?”     “I’m all ears.” standing back up from leaning over your incredibly messy desk, you looked up at him, he looked down at you in response, with beady little “innocent” eyes through his circular shades.      “I didn’t mean to be sassy, I only wish for this relationship to be professional and nothing else.... I, um, truly do apologize and I ask for your forgiveness.” you studied the wall as you say this, fidgeting with your hands and the hem of your pencil skirt. It was a bit awkward to talk to him as if he wasn’t a kid, but it did feel certainly refreshing.      “Is that so?” you turn your head to look back at him as a sign of respect, an eyebrow of his is raised, and a smug smirk is playing at his lips. He talked with such an aura of arrogance around him, you instantly regret being respectful. Yet, you restrain yourself from slapping that stupid smirk off his stupidly handsome face.      Why did all the handsome ones have to be so annoying?      Fuck, no, that wasn’t meant to be a compliment. Even though it was only in your mind, you felt so embarrassed, and had no idea why. It wasn’t like he could read your thoughts, and it was just a mindless compliment, nothing flirtatious about it.       Finally, he spoke. “Aw. (Y/N), I knew we picked well when we hired you. So respectful and professional! What more can I ask for out of a secretary? I humbly accept your apology- but first please do something for me.” he whistled in the other direction as he picked up one of your cute stationary pens, hastily sliding it into his blazer’s pockets.     “Yes, sir?” you brace yourself for impact yet again. Not noticing that he stole one of your favorite pens.     “Slack off a little. None of my secretaries ever worked this hard. I’ll slide in an extra hour for lunch, you can go watch a movie or something-”      “No. Satoru. Contrary to your other secretaries, I actually enjoy work.” standing up now, you stomp over to Gojo, who was now giggling like a 7 year old girl. You hadn’t realized that you had called him by his first name, but honorifics wasn’t on your mind right now.     Your chest stuck out as you shoved him out of your office with your bare hands, maybe as a way of looking more threatening, as if that’d ever work against him.     “Get out of my office!” You hope your eyes are staring daggers, if he ever looked back at you.     Gojo looked at you like he was shocked, tipping his shades down just slightly as you were pushing him out into the hallway. As if he didn’t believe what he was seeing, so he had to see it with his actual eyes- but eventually laughed before accepting his eventual fate.      “On a first name basis now, aren’t we? You’re straightforward! I like straightforward girls though, it works out in your favor.”     “Shut it.”      He made sure to stiffen once in a while just to piss you off so that you couldn’t push him as easily, and before long he was back to his office.       “Cya (Y/N)!” giving you a wave and a wink, he grinned. “I’ll be sure to visit you again, your office is fun!”       That was just one of the unusual interactions that Gojo Satoru had with you, but you knew now that it certainly wouldn’t be the last.  ‧₊˚✩彡.      It didn’t take you long before you realized your favorite pen was gone.       Almost immediately, you figured out who the thief was.       It was evident by now that your relationship between you and your boss wasn’t normal, to say the least. You just couldn’t quite wrap your head around why he stole a cute carrot pen, it certainly wasn’t his style. Well, you weren’t quite sure honestly, but the way the magazine front covers posed him was... Sexual.       Maybe the hot guy liked cute carrot pens and was too scared to buy them by himself, but, it was 2021. Toxic masculinity was basically extinct.      This wasn’t on his mind when he stole your pen, though. Gojo Satoru was smart when he wanted to be. To be quite honest, he just wanted to annoy you more. It made him curious, how could one enjoy work? And be cute at the same time?     The logic made no sense to him. Attending meetings, doing interviews- this was all very boring work to Satoru, and he couldn’t wrap his head around that you enjoyed that. He hadn’t asked to inherit the company, but yet here he was now. Shit, maybe he’d ask you if you wanted the company.      He yawned before drinking his coffee, just how he liked it before taking a sip he straightened his tie, just to make sure he looked extra clean and fresh when you busted down the door, ruffling his fluffy white hair as he did so.     Gojo hated the work environment, just to be straightforward. One thing he did enjoy was the complementary luxury coffee machine, alongside several sugar packets. Placing his impossibly long stick-like legs onto the table, he sighed happily.      Cute girl being his secretary, drinking yummy coffee, the sun rays warming up the back of his head, he was truly living the life.     And then he heard it.      Loud steps against the tile floor.      And then, his door flung open.         
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Text
Soulmate AU part 2; Things drastically change for the better:
Arthur and Merlin’s relationship develops, Uther becomes increasingly annoyed at his failed attempts to control them, Leon continues to have heart palpitations over trying to protect them, and Morgana thinks the whole thing is hilarious.
Part 1   Part 3 Part 4
So that conversation... happens.
To say it was awkward would be a MASSIVE understatement.
Arthur and Morgana spend the whole time answering Uther’s questions, so much so that Merlin barely speaks (he wasn’t great at keeping secrets, so he wasn’t too mad at them for answering for him) and Uther spends the whole time trying and failing to assert his dominance over his two dumbass kids (but they aren’t having it).
Eventually Merlin did speak up, quietly saying:
“I, um... I’m really sorry to interrupt Sire, My Lord... uh... Your Majesty Sir-”
Morgana smirks slightly and covers her mouth with her hand, Arthur rolls his eyes and squeezes Merlin’s hand, and Uther looks upon the whole scene with barely concealed bewilderment:
“-uh... my mum is waiting for me, and I’m usually not gone for this long so... could I... I mean would you mind if I... went?”
Uther looked even more taken aback at that. As much as this whole conversation had been based on Merlin, he hadn’t actually processed the fact that he was a whole person who would have family and places to be and a life outside of being The Prince’s soulmate.
He nods his head slightly and purses his lips:
“Right. Of course. Arthur said that you lived outside of Camelot?-”
He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing:
“-Well I’m afraid that that is unacceptable. You are the soulmate of the Prince of this kingdom, inform your family that you are to move here as soon as possible, preferably before the month is out.-”
At Merlin’s wide eyes and Arthur and Morgana’s scornful faces, he waved his hand:
“-Don’t worry, housing and anything else that you will require will be provided by the Crown.”
Merlin still looks a bit dazed and surprised at his demand, so Arthur replies instead:
“Father, Merlin and his mother have a life in their village, you can not just demand that they pack up and leave everything behind to live here.”
Uther looks annoyed at this, but patiently (or as patiently as Uther is able) retorts with:
“Well he was going have to move eventually. The two of you are only a few years from being of age, and you can not possibly live in separate kingdoms when that happens, especially as you are Crown Prince. I’m allowing this... bond... to continue, but we are still royalty, and rules must be followed.”
Morgana goes to argue this time, but Merlin tugs her sleeve slightly and says quietly:
“It’s alright ‘Gana, he is right, I was going to have to move here eventually anyway. This way you finally get to meet my mum, and we’ll get to see each other more often. Mum won’t like it, but I know she’s missed Gaius, so it won’t be too bad, and I’ve always sort of wanted to explore the city.”
Morgana and Arthur stare at him for a few moments whilst he looks between them. Arthur sighs before replying:
“Fine, but only if you’re sure. And take your time, don’t pressure your mum into leaving right away, OK?”
Merlin nods, and everyone at the table stands, stepping back.
Uther mutters that they are dismissed, but watches as they say goodbye to each other. He furrows his eyebrows in interest as Morgana hugs Merlin, mentally noting that he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her smile that widely before.
When Arthur embraces Merlin, much tighter, and for much longer, a hand cradling the back of the peasant’s-... of Merlin’s head, and a soft, but powerful smile on his face, Uther forgets for a moment the distastefulness of the situation, and revels in the feeling of pride and happiness; his son had found his life partner. 
The King sweeps any thoughts of his late-wife from his mind, and drops the small smile gracing his face, but not before Morgana spies it and tilts her head at him, giving him a teasing smirk.
The boys whisper something that Uther can’t hear, and Merlin steps back, giving him a quick bow and an awkward wave, before disappearing into thin air. A familiar pop echoes around the hall, and a few gold sparks fall silently to the floor.
Arthur and Morgana bow to him very briefly, before turning and leaving the room without another word, arm in arm.
Uther stands alone in the room for a moment, sighing before muttering to himself:
“This is going to be a bloody nightmare. Public announcement. Before that I have to tell the council. And I have to figure out how I can legally make these people nobles, to justify everything-”
He looks to the ceiling, sighing once again as he says:
“-Gods give me strength.” Before turning and sweeping out the room.
~
The moment Arthur and Morgana leave the room, they turn to each other and burst into slightly hysterical laughter, sputtering about “the look on his face” and “oh my gods, *sire my lord your majesty sir* ” between breaths. 
The whole situation was unexpected, but to be perfectly honest, they didn’t regret it; they knew that the longer they waited before telling Uther, the bigger the problem would be.
Morgana straightens up after a moment, wiping tears from her eyes, before whipping her head around to Arthur in sudden panic:
“Oh my Gods, Arthur. Leon.”
Arthur’s eyes widen, and he curses suddenly before taking Morgana’s hand and running towards his chambers. They almost ran into multiple people, Nobles who tutted, and castle staff who jumped out of the way, not even having time to bow before the two teenagers were out of sight again.
They loudly burst into Arthur’s chambers, out of breath, to see Leon pacing a groove into the floor:
They stand with their hands on their knees, panting, but before they can say anything, Leon rushes to speak:
“Where on earth have you been?? A guard said you were in a meeting with the King all afternoon, what happened? Is Merlin ok?? They wouldn’t let me in, so I came back here to wait but-”
Arthur held up a hand to stop him rambling, and gave him a comforting smile. The Prince straightened up, and took one last deep breath before saying:
“Sorry, for worrying you Leon. But you are not going to believe what just happened...”
Morgana starts laughing again, and with that, the two of them shut the door behind them and explain in great detail what had happened, how Merlin had just appeared and Uther had freaked, and Gaius and Geoffrey had to be called, and how funny the look on his face was when they’d explained. 
Arthur had wanted to skip it out, but Morgana gleefully insisted on recounting just how much she and Arthur had ordered Uther around, and how he’d just taken it.
By the end of their explanation, Leon had collapsed in a chair, looking very pale, and a lot like he’d aged twenty years.
He holds his head in his hands, fingers messing up his curls, and stares at the floor as Arthur and Morgana glance to each other, trying not to laugh at the poor man.
After what seems to be hours, Leon straightens up, and looks to the two of them with a stricken expression:
“I can’t believe that... well I suppose he had to find out eventually but... dear Lord I can’t decide if I’m grateful I wasn’t there or not... oh my Gods I’m going to be demoted, disowned, banished.”
Arthur laughs at that and Morgana rolls her eyes at the man’s panic:
“Nothing’s going to happen to you Sir Leon, don’t panic. We didn’t mention you, as far as my father is concerned, the only ones who knew were us.”
Leon finally smiles briefly at that, muttering a quiet thank you, before standing up suddenly, looking panicked once again:
“Wait... you said he’d be moving here?? What about his... gift?? He can’t live in Camelot it’s dangerous. You may have protected him from the King for now but... if he finds out nothing will stop him from... nothing will stop him.”
The two of them sighed at that. They had been mentally considering it, but they were just taking it one victory at a time. Arthur replied moments later:
“We’ll just have to be careful. He has to be careful in Ealdor anyway, he’s already a bastard, he had to hide magic from the other villagers because it probably would’ve been fatal for him to give them a second reason to hate him. We can set ground rules when he actually moves here and... we just have to be careful. It’ll be a new life for him and his mother, we can be careful.” 
He says the last bit with a decisive nod, and Morgana and Leon relax slightly. Arthur was right, they’d been fine so far, they could keep it up.
He would never say it out loud, but if his father found out... if he tried to hurt Merlin, Arthur knows without a doubt in his mind that he would give up his inheritance, take Merlin’s hand, and run. Without hesitation.
He would love nothing more than to turn his kingdom into a place where Merlin could be free and happy one day, but until then, he would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant leaving everything behind.
~
The next few weeks rush by.
Uther had tried to limit the number of visits between Merlin and Arthur, but neither of them were having it, and if anything, they were seeing each other more with the upcoming move.
Hunith did in fact freak out at Uther’s demand of her and Merlin moving to Camelot. For several reasons.
First off, she had a life here. It was difficult, but simple, honest work. The winters were hard, but the summers made up for it. The villagers may have started of being a little cruel to her and Merlin, but they warmed to them when the dark haired boy was nothing but sweet and kind to everyone.
Second off, her son was magical. Both naturally and unnaturally magical. Essetir was dangerous, yes, but Camelot? Camelot was so much worse.
She supposes it had to happen eventually. She didn’t like to think of it often, didn’t want to tempt fate, but her son was the Crown Prince’s soulmate. That meant that one day... he would be married to the King. He couldn’t exactly do that whilst living in Essetir, least of all because the Essetir Crown would throw a world ending fit.
In the end, she agreed to the move rather quickly, at least she would be close to her brother, and she could finally meet Leon and Morgana.
As much as Merlin and Arthur urged her not to rush, she really had nothing to do but say goodbye before they made the journey to Camelot, and the three of them were leaving the village behind them within the month, just like Uther wanted.
Though he definitely hadn’t wanted Arthur to pop away one morning, a full travel pack and a sword on his person, intending to make the journey with them. But in the end, Arthur ended the argument by rolling his eyes (much to Morgana’s amusement) and disappearing before The King could get another word in.
No public announcements had been made (they decided to wait until Arthur came of age), but the council had been informed. They were NOT happy. 
Uther would never admit it, but he did feel a swell of pride when Arthur slammed his hand on the table, and firmly told them that this was happening whether they liked it or not, and if they dared complain instead of help, they would find themselves without a chair at the table, and severely lacking in titles and land.
Uther was relieved when he found out that Hunith was Gaius’ younger sister. Gaius wasn’t a noble, but he was a life-long, close friend of the King, and a trusted advisor. Hopefully that would make it easier. 
The Court Physician wasn’t a title that came with land, or nobility, BUT it was the most respected position in the royal household, below actual nobles.
If Gaius could take Merlin on as his apprentice... then he would be an almost fully trained physician by the time he came of age, and that would be respected. Then at least he would have a role outside of being the Prince’s Soulmate.
It was all coming together in Uther’s mind. Of course it wasn’t perfect. The absolute ideal outcome would’ve been if Arthur’s soulmate had been foreign royalty (if only anyone knew about Merlin’s father...), but he could make do with this. He would have to, if he didn’t want to lose his son and his ward.
~
The day of Hunith, Arthur, and Merlin’s arrival finally comes.
Uther didn’t greet them in the courtyard (it would be unsightly for a King to greet two commoners, even if The Prince was with them) but Gaius, Morgana, and Leon did.
Everyone breaks into wide smiles when the castle gates are opened, Arthur and Merlin rushing forward to meet Morgana and Leon in a big hug, and Hunith rushing forward to meet her brother, whom she hadn’t seen in several years.
There is laughter and hugs all around before Merlin finally steps back and takes his mother’s hand, realising he should probably give actual introductions:
“Mum, this is The Lady Morgana, ward of the King-”
Morgana gives Hunith a wide smile and curtsy, before stepping forward and giving her a brief hug. Morgana was very touch averse with everyone but Merlin, Arthur, and Leon, but in her books, any woman who raised Merlin into the young man he had become, was a woman who deserved her trust. And a hug:
“-and this is Sir Leon, Knight of the King.”
Leon took Hunith’s hand, placing a brief kiss on her knuckles before stepping back respectfully. Hunith quickly followed him, and to his great surprise, wrapped the taller man in a tight hug. He wraps his arms around her after a few moments in shock, when she whispers in his ear:
“Thank you for keeping my boys safe.”
He steps back, a wide smile on his face and his hands on her shoulders. He replies quietly so that only she would hear him:
“It has been my genuine pleasure, and I plan to continue to do so for the remainder of my service.”
Hunith gives him an even wider smile, and pats his hand, before the two of them step back. The others watch on in adoration, before Leon clears his throat and addresses the group:
“I have been instructed to show the two of you to your new residence, before you are to meet with the King.”
Arthur steps back before saying regretfully:
“Unfortunately, Gaius and I should go and meet with my father immediately. Leon, you lead the way, we shall remain with him until you return and we can get this over with.”
He says the last bit with a grimace, and Morgana gives him a sympathetic smile as Merlin squeezes his hand. 
The group separates, Arthur and Gaius heading up the castle steps, and Leon leading the rest of them back out the gates.
Hunith and Merlin had been gifted a small house in the upper city, close to the castle, but not within it’s walls. Arthur had argued endlessly against that, saying they deserved chambers inside the castle, but Hunith was the one who refused.
She wasn’t nobility, and she enjoyed her simple life. She had already given up her farming and livestock, she refused to be cooped up in a giant stone castle where she would have nothing to do, and didn’t understand how anything worked.
Arthur finally saw the sense in that, he can understand that it would be difficult for Merlin and Hunith to live in the castle. He hated to admit it, but they would certainly be looked down on, and Arthur was almost of age, he didn’t have the time to spend all day entertaining Merlin, even if he wanted nothing more than to spend all day every day with him.
The house was small, but still three times the size of their place back in Ealdor. They had separate bedrooms, a large kitchen/dining area, a small storage room, and an extra room for relaxing (”City folk call them living rooms apparently.”). There was a small, fenced off grass area out the front, which Hunith was particularly excited about; she wouldn’t have to give up growing things after all.
The home came fully furnished, and Hunith was speechless at the large, comfortable beds, the soft chairs, and the abundance of cooking equipment. The living room also had a large hearth, and two ceiling-high bookshelves, though they were empty.
Once Hunith had had a good look around (the others had already seen it, and Arthur had been checking with Merlin at every step to see if he approved), Morgana excitedly grabs her hand and drags her back to the slightly larger of the two bedrooms.
Merlin follows confusedly, but Leon follows with a small smile on his face, he had seen what Morgana was planning, despite her best attempts to keep it secret.
Morgana finally stands Hunith in front of the wardrobe and gestures for her to open it. The older woman opens the doors with a little hesitation, before stepping back and gasping, her hands over her mouth.
Morgana grins proudly before speaking to a speechless Hunith:
“My gift to you. I organised a few things for Merlin as well. Of course they’ll all have to be adjusted because I could only pass on to the tailor Arthur and Merlin’s descriptions of you. I thought that could be something nice you and me could do at some point in the next few days, after you’ve settled.”
Merlin steps around Leon to try and see what’s got everyone so wound up, and takes in a quiet gasp at what he sees. The wardrobe is filled with new, tailor made dresses, a few thick cloaks, and two pairs of good quality shoes. Two of the dresses were incredibly nice, royal-gala kind of nice, and the others were a mix of practical, casual, smart. 
He smiles widely, tears in his eyes at what Morgana had done for his mum. He’s always felt a little guilty at being the soulmate of royalty, but not being able to provide her with more than she had, but that changed, starting now.
Hunith finally rips her gaze from the new clothes, staring at Morgana:
“I can’t possibly...-”
Morgana’s tilted head and raised eyebrow forces Hunith to change tracks. The boys have told her how stubborn Morgana was, she has a feeling she wouldn’t be able to return the gifts:
“-I don’t know how to thank you, My Lady.”
Morgana rolls her eyes fondly, and brings her into a hug before stepping back:
“Oh none of that “My Lady” shit, and you don’t have to thank me, you and Merlin are part of the family now.”
Merlin gives her a grateful smile over his mum’s shoulder, which she returns, before Leon speaks up:
“I’m sure you can find time to get them all properly fitted in the coming days Morgana, for now we should get back up to the castle. I imagine The King and The Prince are waiting for us.”
Morgana nods, and Hunith subtly wipes her eyes, before allowing The King’s ward to intertwine their arms. Merlin smiles at the sight (he knew they would get along) before turning and following Leon out the house, and back up towards the castle.
Merlin was only a little nervous, he’d met the King multiple times now, and whilst the man was always painfully polite, it was clear that it was only because the whole situation bewildered him a little. But he’d never met his mother yet, and this next meeting would make the rest of his life go very smoothly, or very difficultly.
Leon pauses a moment outside the door to the throne room, glancing back at Merlin, who takes a deep breath before standing straight and nodding.
Leon smiles encouragingly at him, before pushing the doors open and walking into the room.
Arthur, Uther, and Gaius were stood in front of the thrones quietly discussing something, but look up when they hear the doors open.
Arthur smiles widely and walks forward, giving Merlin a brief hug (which Morgana lovingly rolls her eyes at, they’ve only been apart for half an hour) and Uther straightens his back, before walking forwards regally, a practiced blank look on his face. Gaius gives his sister a reassuring smile, but stays back.
Leon and Merlin bow (Leon deeply, before stepping aside, and Merlin briefly and shallowly) and Hunith curtsied as best she could with Morgana protectively gripping her arm.
Arthur and Merlin stand next to the girls, hand in hand (Uther’s mind bounces between wanting to smile fondly, and wanting to grimace at the PDA), and Uther stops just in front of Hunith:
“Welcome to Camelot, your swift arrival was pleasing.”
Hunith nods, a polite, but strained smile on her face:
“Thank you, My Lord. Anything to make the boys lives easier.”
Uther clenches his jaw, and Morgana has to hide a smirk at the implication that she’d only moved to help out the boys, and not because Uther had ordered it.
“Of course. I hope your new home was to your liking?”
Hunith nodding in reply, the smile on her face a little brighter this time:
“Yes, My Lord, it’s wonderful, I can not thank you enough for providing it. I look forward to exploring your city.”
Uther nods slightly before saying:
“Yes, yes, it’s rather lovely this time of year. The Crown will provide a small allowance for a time, until you can get yourself on your feet. I’ve already discussed it with Gaius, and arrangements have been made for Merlin to become the physician’s apprentice, at Gaius’ earliest convenience.”
“Thank you, I’m sure it won’t be long before I can find work, in such a bustling city.”
Uther nods tersely, before turning back towards Gaius. He waves his hand dismissively over his shoulder as he says:
“I have other matters to attend to for the rest of the afternoon. Sir Leon, Arthur and Morgana, you have the rest of the day off to show our new... residents, around. You’re all dismissed.-”
Leon is the only one who bothers bowing to Uther’s back, and Morgana raises an eyebrow at him, before rolling her eyes and turning to leave, dragging Hunith with her, closely followed by the boys.
Just before Leon can exit the room, Uther turns around hurriedly:
“-Before I forget, Sir Leon, I would like a word.”
Leon turns around after wiping the panic from his face. He shuts the door after the others, who look at him worriedly, before turning around to face The King:
“My Lord?”
Uther settles an assessing gaze on the knight, and Leon has to stop himself from gulping in response. Uther sighs, and speaks after a moment:
“After paying a little more attention to the relationships between yourself, the boys, and Morgana, I have realised something. You obviously knew of this... relationship, long before I did. Do no deny it.-”
Leon does gulp at that, but before he can defend himself, Uther asks:
“Can I trust that it would have been brought to my attention had anything problematic started?”
Leon widens his eyes in shock, before gathering his thoughts and replying, injecting as much confidence in his voice as possible:
“Of course, My Lord. I kept a close eye on them myself, and made sure that the Prince’s safety was my highest priority at all times. Had anything worrying happened, I would have come to you immediately. I am loyal to the throne, My Lord.”
(A big fat lie considering the whole “Merlin is a sorcerer” thing, but the King certainly doesn’t need to know that.)
Uther nods thoughtfully, before meeting Leon’s gaze again:
“Good. I am glad that Arthur has someone looking out for him. I trust you will continue this?”
Leon nods:
“Of course, My Lord.”
Uther nods once again:
“Excellent. Make sure none of... this, interferes with his studies. You are dismissed.”
Leon bows deeply, before leaving the room. He shuts the door behind him, leaning on it and taking a deep breath, before looking up to meet the worried gazes of the others, who had waited for him. He smiles shakily:
“Nothing bad, I’ll tell you later. Come on, let’s show these two around the upper-town.”
Arthur fixes him with a scrutinizing gaze, but Leon meets it (Arthur has yet to win a staring contest against Leon, in fact, Morgana was the only one who ever came close), and after a moment, Morgana shakes her head, and begins to walk down the corridor, the boys trailing after her and Hunith.
They spend the rest of the afternoon showing Merlin and Hunith around the upper-town. The tour leads them around the market, the town square (where the well is) and other important fixtures of the town, such as the tailor, blacksmith’s, and some of Morgana’s favourite shops (Uther hated it, but Morgana and Arthur regularly sneak out of the castle to spend time in the city).
By the time the sun sets, the group is relaxed and getting on well. Merlin knew Morgana and Leon would love his mum, but it was still nerve-wracking, and he was overjoyed by how well it was going.
The kitchen of Hunith and Merlin’s new home had yet to be stocked, so they stopped off at some street vendors before heading back to the house. Hunith tried to argue when Arthur insisted on paying, but she was shut down pretty quickly when Arthur reminded her that he was The Prince, he could more than afford it, and anyway, “I like contributing to the local businesses, I wouldn’t be a Prince if I didn’t have my people around me, I like to give back where I can.”
Leon and Morgana smiled proudly at that, but the smiles on Hunith and Merlin’s face were more fond. 
(Morgana quietly thinks about how differently he would’ve been without Merlin to ground him. With a father like Uther, Arthur easily could’ve turned into an absolute prat.)
They stay together long into the evening, talking and laughing, before Leon finally says it’s time to go. Morgana, Hunith, and Merlin may have tomorrow free, but Leon and Arthur had training early, followed by a day full of meetings.
Morgana smirked at Arthur’s grumbling, but dutifully stood up. The three of them give Hunith and Merlin tight hugs, before leaving them alone, heading back to the castle.
Hunith and Merlin sit in comfortable silence, wide smiles on their faces, before Merlin breaks the silence:
“So what do you think? I know Uther is a bit of a prat, but he’ll want to see as little of us as possible, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Do you... like it here?”
Hunith smiles at him fondly, and runs her hands through his hair when he rests his head on her lap:
“You’ve really made a life for yourself here, haven’t you Merlin? I’m proud of you. Lady Morgana and Sir Leon are exactly how I expected them to be. The house is far more than I expected, but I’m grateful, and I’m sure it won’t take me long to find a job. I’ll always miss our rural village, but nothing is stopping us from visiting every once in a while, to get away from the city, and we have a nice little garden here.-”
Merlin closes his eyes, soothed by his mother’s fingers in his hair, and hums thoughtfully before Hunith continues:
“-You know, I had always considered sending you here to apprentice under Gaius when you were older anyway. Funny, how things turn out. Though perhaps I should’ve realised that nothing was going to go to plan when the little blond boy that appeared in my kitchen all those years ago turned out to be foreign royalty.” 
Merlin huffs out a laugh from when he laid, and responded sleepily:
“Yeah. You know I don’t even think of him as royalty, most of the time. He’s just... Arthur.”
Hunith smiles gently down at him, and takes a few minutes to respond:
“I know what you mean. I’m glad you found your person... or more accurately, I’m glad your person found you.-”
She chuckles, before adding the next bit on quietly:
“-Your father would be proud of you.”
Merlin opens his eyes, and looks up at her blearily:
“You think?”
Hunith’s smile widens, and the both of them politely ignore the tears gathering in her eyes:
“I know.”
~
Time passes quickly. The next day, Merlin, Hunith, and Morgana spend the whole day shopping and stocking up on food and other necessities (the small allowance Uther had provided for them actually turned out to be quite a lot, especially compared to the amount of money Hunith was used to having around).
At some point over the next week, like Morgana had suggested, her and Hunith spent a day in the tailor’s, having all of her new clothes adjusted properly. 
Hunith was also ecstatic to get a job off the back of that. She may not be at quite the professional level yet, but she was the one most of the locals would go to, to fix and patch and re-sew old clothes back in Ealdor.
Merlin started his apprenticeship with Gaius, which meant the days being near, but not with Arthur, were less boring, and slightly more bearable.
He picked up healing quickly (after seeing all the various injuries Arthur and Leon had sustained over the years during training, he was eager to learn how to help them), and he soon became known around town as Gaius’ Boy.
His cheerful demeanour and wide smile endeared him to all of his patients, and he made a point to try and be polite to everyone he came across. Suddenly living in a bustling city, and having what was basically a full time job, was a little overwhelming, but being here meant being with Arthur, so he was determined to make the most of it.
The boys spent the evenings together whenever they could (and still slept in the same bed most nights, out of habit. Merlin’s nightmares had made a brief reappearance after his first meeting with Uther, but they stopped again fairly soon.), and Arthur would often pop out of the castle to share meals with Merlin and Hunith, Morgana and Leon joining them when they had the time.
This did however, involve a few instances of Merlin or Arthur appearing at inopportune times. 
An emergency patient coming in meant Arthur appearing in the physician’s chambers, instead of Merlin’s home, like he had expected. 
Luckily the patient was unconscious at the time. 
(Uther had informed them that the council members and guards who worked in the castle had been informed of the situation (so that Hunith and Merlin wouldn’t be bothered), but the public wasn’t to know at all, at least until Arthur came of age.)
A council meeting overrunning meant Merlin appearing just behind the Prince’s seat, and turning wide-eyed and red-faced before squeaking out a quick apology and disappearing again.
The meeting was side-tracked for a good five minutes as Arthur tried to cover a smirk, Morgana (who insisted she be involved in important meetings when Arthur was) openly laughed, and Uther held his head in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes and muttering something about “stupid kids” and “stupid soul-bonds”.
They tried to be more careful after that incident, and they got better at exploring the bond. With some focus and practice, the boys got fairly good at sensing where the other was, and sometimes, if they were with other people (though that particular sense wasn’t as reliable).
About a month after they moved to Camelot, Merlin was introduced to a lovely girl called Guinevere. Her mother had served Leon’s family, and once she was old enough to have a job herself, Leon swung her a position in the castle as Morgana’s maidservant.
Arthur was oblivious at first (until an amused Merlin explained it to him later on), but Merlin and Leon definitely noticed the... bond, between the two girls, though all four would deny it to anyone who asked, in order to preserve their privacy.
Guinevere, or Gwen, as her friends call her, quickly joined the group. Morgana was grateful for another female presence, and Leon was most certainly grateful for the addition of someone who cared about safety and being careful.
He loved his kids, (”Oh my Gods... I’m a father... how do I... Gaius I know nothing about teenagers, what do I do?? I’m not ready to be a father!”), and Hunith was a good influence, but they couldn’t be around all of the time, and the boys had a bad habit of making trouble, especially with Morgana egging them on. 
He stressed a little less when he knew that Gwen was with them.
~
Shortly after Gwen’s appearance, the group (unfortunately without Leon, he had a patrol:( ) went exploring in the woods beyond the city. Uther was stuck in meetings all day, but Arthur and Morgana had a free day, and after much begging, Gaius let Merlin off as well. 
Morgana having a free day, meant that Gwen had a free day as well (not that Morgana ever made her do many chores anyway, only enough to keep up the pretence that they were Lady and Servant and not... something else).
They put together a picnic, took some horses from the stables, and headed off at first light. It was a warm, summers day, and they planned to spend the day in the sun, Arthur didn’t have to worry about duties, Merlin didn’t have to worry about memorising herb lists and symptoms, Morgana didn’t have to worry about being a Lady, and Gwen didn’t have to mind her place as a servant.
It was planned to be the perfect day, and it almost was. 
After a couple hours journey, they found a beautiful lake, and they spent the morning splashing around in the water, playing and laughing and messing around. 
They spent the middle of the day drying in the sun and snacking on all the sweet meats and fruit that Arthur had snuck from the kitchens. 
They spent the afternoon playing stupid games, and relaxing in the shade, holding hands with no worries, and even sneaking the occasional kiss, revelling in the freedom of being alone.
They were sad to have to leave, but it became an agreement that at least once a month, whilst the weather held out, they would come to their spot by the lake, and relax with each other. No responsibilities, no obligations, no “My Lord”s or “My Lady”s, just four friends, hopelessly happy and in love.
It was on the way home that things went a little wrong.
Usually this stretch of the woods was completely safe and bandit free, but the group was not so lucky as to have an eventless journey home.
When they were about halfway home, Merlin halted his horse suddenly and sat up straight, letting go of Arthur’s hand and tilting his head, eyes closed, listening to the woods around him with a frown on his face.
Arthur looks back and frowns, before calling to the girls, a few metres ahead of them, to wait for a minute.
He looks to Merlin, still with a frown on his face:
“Merls? What is it?”
Merlin waves his hand in Arthur’s direction, gesturing at him to be quiet. He is silent for another few moments, before he opens his eyes wide, and speaks in a low, but rushed voice:
“Gwen, ride ahead with ‘Gana, everyone get your swords out, we’re being watched.”
Arthur tenses at that, and he and Merlin pull their swords out (Leon had insisted that Merlin learn, he wasn’t nearly as good as the others yet, but he could hold his own. Leon was also the one who insisted they be armed when he learnt of their plan for the day.), quickly followed by Gwen and Morgana. 
Instead of riding ahead, Morgana speaks up quickly:
“Gwen can fight just as well as me, I’ve been training her, we should stay together.”
Arthur looks worried, but Gwen just rolled her eyes before adding quietly:
“I’m also the daughter of a blacksmith you know, I’ve been handling swords since before I could walk.”
Arthur sighs and nods, before looking back to Merlin, and quietly, so that only Merlin can hear him:
“How many, and where from?”
Merlin tilts his head away from Gwen, so she can’t see the gold of his eyes, before flexing his hand slightly, and responding:
“Six or seven, I think from the South.”
Arthur nods once more, before turning his horse to be facing South, and he peers into the trees. It wasn’t quite dark out, but it was dimming, and the forest was so thick, the underbrush so overgrown, that it was difficult to see much beyond the edge of the path.
The girls urge their horses back the way they came, to be close to the boys, and stay alert, swords raised, feet braced and ready for action.
Merlin clenches his hands and gasps slightly, before murmuring, loud enough for everyone to hear him this time:
“Twenty seconds.”
Gwen goes to question how he knew that, but a quick look from Morgana, and a shaken head meaning “Later” stops her, and she instead focuses her gaze on where the others were looking into the trees.
Like Merlin had said, twenty seconds later, the treeline breaks, and seven men burst through yelling, and brandishing swords, the shock of which sends the horses scarpering, and the four of them have to jump off and let them go.
Battle broke out immediately, the teenagers aiming to incapacitate or injure, but the bandits not being so kind with their attacks.
The battle is intense, Merlin using little bits of subtle magic here and there to trip or confuse various attackers, Arthur and Morgana slowly but surely taking down men, one by one, and Gwen easily enough holding her own.
But, four, mostly inexperienced (Arthur had only had to actually fight for his life once or twice at this point, and before, he was surrounded by fully trained knights whose top priority was keeping him safe, even to their own detriment) teenagers, aged 15, 16, and 17, were no match for seven seasoned attackers.
In the end, it’s the four of them left (each with bruises and cuts, but nothing serious) vs three remaining attackers, but the battle quickly stops when Merlin turns around (a gut feeling) to see one of the men silently raise a sword, readying to bring it down on to Gwen’s turned back.
He instinctively raises his empty hand towards them, and yells:
“NO!”
He sends the man flying back, head hitting the tree behind him with a thwack.
Gwen stares at him (or more accurately, the golden glow of his eyes) in astonishment, and Morgana and Arthur use the momentary distraction to deal with the last two attackers, giving them swift knocks to the head.
Morgana rushes forward to Gwen and tugs at her shoulder, trying to get her attention to see if she’s ok, but she ignores her just staring at Merlin.
Merlin drops his hand, and his face morphs from anger to shock to fear, the gold in his eyes fading back to blue as Arthur reaches his side and takes his hand. 
Gwen finally stutters out a:
“What... you’re... but Uther?-” before wiping the shock off her face, and setting it in grim determination, clenching her jaw.
Merlin’s eyes widen at her expression, and he takes a fearful step back, Arthur steps in front of him and Morgana tries to grab Gwen’s arm as she begins to stalk quickly forwards, but it slips from her grip.
Arthur holds his hands out, and begins to speak, seemingly trying to talk her out of hurting Merlin, but she ignores him, and pushes him to the side with surprising strength.
Merlin gasps and tries to take another step back, tears in his eyes, but she grabs his shoulders and, before anyone can say anything more, pulls him into a crushing hug.
Merlin takes a few moments to respond, clearly not expecting such an affectionate reaction to being discovered as an evil sorcerer, but hugs back at Gwen’s watery “Thank you.” whispered in his ear.
Arthur lets out a breath, and he and Morgana smile, not really sure why they were so surprised at Gwen’s acceptance. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up in Camelot, expecting hatred and violence and fear in response to magic is ingrained in you.
Gwen finally pulls back, and takes Merlin’s hands, the both of them have tears on their faces, and Gwen sniffs before quietly saying:
“I’m sorry that you have to live in fear, and I’m sorry I wasn’t clear enough in my adoration for you that you felt you had to be scared of my reaction. I promise to keep you safe, to the best of my ability.-”
She fondly punches him in the arm, before continuing with a smile:
“Next time, you can just do that right at the beginning, and save us all the trouble, yeah?”
Merlin nods slowly, before pulling Gwen into another tight hug. He buries his face in her neck, and she runs her hands through his hair and they both quietly weep.
Arthur and Morgana both feel the strong urge to step in, and comfort their own soulmates, but they resist, and instead give them a moment of privacy as they round up the horses, and search the bandits.
After a few minutes, Gwen and Merlin pull back, and walk towards the other two, holding each other’s hand comfortingly. 
Whilst searching their unconscious bodies, Arthur hadn’t found anything identifying, but had found a length of rope in one of their discarded bags, hidden in the underbrush.
He cuts the rope into separate pieces and ties the bandits up, to individual trees, before looking back to the group:
“This won’t hold them long at all, but we don’t have the means to transport them back to the city. I can get my father to send a search party to look for them, but by the time we get back to the City, and the Knights get out here, they’ll probably be long gone.”
Morgana raises an eyebrow and replies:
“I thought you Knights were excellent trackers. They won’t wake up for a while, and they’ll be dazed, so it’ll take them a while to get out of the rope, if your knots are any good-”
Arthur goes to retort, but Gwen quickly interrupts him:
“That’s not the point. What if one of them remembers what Merlin did? And accuses him? Uther probably wouldn’t take their word against all of ours, but it would attract unwanted attention, wouldn’t it? And, no offense Merlin, but he’s already not exactly fond of you.”
Arthur nods at that, and Morgana hums thoughtfully, whilst Merlin just stares at her in shock. He speaks up after a moment:
“We could loosen the knots, and wake them up a little before leaving? That way they’ll have plenty of time to escape before the knights get here? But we have to report it. The types of men to attack four teenagers, none in armour, and two of whom are women, need to be warned about.”
Arthur and Gwen look troubled at that, and Arthur speaks up first:
“Morgana is right though, the Knights are brilliant at tracking, what if they find them anyway? I won’t risk one of them remembering what you did.”
Merlin looks annoyed, always the one to sacrifice himself, and Morgana furrows her brows before looking up, and speaking slowly:
“You could... over exaggerate how violent they were? Request a kill on sight order? That way, none of them make it back to testify, but they’re also no longer a problem for travellers.”
Arthur tilts his head in surprise, and Gwen widens her eyes at the suggestion.
Arthur looks like he’s genuinely considering it, when Merlin gasps:
“Oh!! Wait! The other day, I read about a spell. It’s like a memory charm, I can make them forget the last ten minutes or so, if it works, and we time it right, they’ll remember attacking us, but not how the fight ended!”
He has a grin on his face, but Morgana and Gwen look doubtful, whilst Arthur looks thoughtful, before speaking:
“Have you tried it before? Do you know it would work?”
Merlin turns a little pink, before looking to the floor, and saying:
“Well... do you remember agreeing to let me try it on you last week?”
Morgana grins as she realises the implication of the question, and Gwen gasps as Arthur’s eyes grow wide, and he shakes his head slowly:
“...No.”
Merlin finally meets his eyes, with a nervous smile on his face as he says:
“Then yeah, I’ve tried it before and it worked fine.”
Morgana and Gwen start laughing as Merlin bites his lip and Arthur blinks a few times, before speaking again:
“...Ok, you cast the charm or whatever, I’ll make sure the ropes are done tightly, then we’ll wait for one of them to wake up, to check that it worked, then we’ll leave, and send a patrol back to arrest them.”
With the girls still laughing in the background, Merlin goes to the three attackers who had witnessed him perform magic and cast the spell, whilst Arthur double checked all of the bindings.
The group only has to splash cold water on the face of one of the attackers for him to cough himself awake. He looks around, clearly bewildered, and yells:
“What?? How the fuck... what did... how hard do you hit, kid? Jeez, how the fuck did I-”
He’s cut off by Arthur hitting him in the head again with the hilt of his sword, before he steps back and says:
“Ok. It worked. I think it’d be best if we got home as quickly as possible, we’re already going to be late.”
With that, the group takes one last cursory glance (and fill with pride at the idea that they’d managed to fight off a group of thieving murderous bandits all on their own) at the bound bandits, before mounting their horses, and urging them into a gallop towards Camelot.
The report to Uther was definitely intense, The King was furious that a group of violent criminals were attacking citizens, especially women (though Arthur made sure to point out that Morgana fought just as well as him, and Gwen held her own just fine) so close to the city.
He immediately sent out a large patrol to scour the woods, focussed especially around the path they used, and to not come back until the seasons changed, or the criminals were found.
Arthur was right, the ropes hadn’t held them for long, but he was also right in saying that Camelot Knights were excellent trackers, and they were hunted down within a week, and brought back to Camelot for sentencing.
Arthur and Morgana tried to speak against it, at Merlin and Gwen’s request, but Uther ultimately sentenced the offenders to execution, for crimes against the Crown and Citizens of Camelot, and didn’t question why they couldn’t even remember half the fight.
In fact, that actually had Uther praising the group for fighting well, and he begrudgingly admitted that Morgana’s sword lessons (which she had been ruthlessly demanding since she was a child) and Guinevere’s subsequent training, had paid off well.
~
THE END OF PART 2
Wow so I finished this way quicker than I was expecting, I just really love this concept, thanks anon, for requesting :)
Anyway, hope you enjoy gang
400 notes · View notes
pxnk-velvet · 4 years
Note
congrats on the milestone !! can i get kuroo x reader to the song moments by alextbh ? ❤️
𝑀𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 [NSFW!]
.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.
𝐾𝑢𝑟𝑜𝑜 𝑇𝑒𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑜 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
✧ word count :: 1.5k
✧ summary :: After a pretty bad break up, Kuroo finally gets the chance to tell Y/n how he really feels about her. Not only leading to confession of heart and mind, but body too. 
✧ warnings :: nsfw!, mentions of a breakup (not w/ kuroo), fluff, intended for mature readers only
✧ a/n :: This is my first time writing for Kuroo so I’m sorry if it doesn’t seem like him lol 😅 and as always reblogs and feed back are always appreciated. Come stop by the party and have some fun for a while!
.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.
It had already been weeks since Y/n had broken up with her ex, yet she was still experiencing repercussions. It felt like the pieces of her heart were scattered in her chest, in desperate need of being put back together. 
Her friends had suggested hooking up with another guy to get her mind off of things but inevitably she simply wasn’t the type to do so. Often developing feelings quickly and getting attached at the snap of a finger. 
It had taken so much of a toll on her to the point where it had begun to affect her academics. Her grades automatically plummeted right after her heartbreak and now she was having a hard time getting them back to where they used to be. 
Hence why she was now currently seated against Kuroo’s headboard while he sat in his desk chair by the edge of the bed. Open textbooks and notes scattered across the bed sheets, her head tucked between her knees as she groaned. 
“Why do I have to do so much work?” Y/n whined, setting her notebook beside her to stretch her legs out and rest her eyes for a bit. 
As her eyes were closed Kuroo’s trailed up the length of her legs, admiring how soft they looked, appreciating the fact that she didn’t wear tights today. Sporting only the cute little skirt that was part of the girls uniform. 
“Well for starters, if you hadn’t slacked off for so long then maybe you wouldn’t have fallen so behind?” He mused, picking up an inquisitive tone towards the end of his sentence. Softening the words, hoping they wouldn’t hit a nerve considering her situation. 
Since the day he had heard about what happened, he had done everything he could to help out. Granted that they had only been friends before hand, not nearly as close as they are now. But still, he worried for his team’s manager, his friend, the girl he cared so deeply for. He rode out his feelings hoping that they would dissipate while she was dating her ex, only to discover that he had simply fallen for her even harder. Now, he figured it was the perfect time to tell her how he felt. Using every opportunity he could make to spend time with her. 
“It’s not like I chose to be broken up with Tetsu…” Y/n muttered, turning away from him, curling her legs up to her chest, which was now starting to fill with the sad sinking feeling she was trying so hard not to acknowledge anymore. 
Ever since she had started spending more time with Kuroo, she had begun to actually appreciate time with him outside of volleyball. Getting excited, a giddy feeling bubbling in her chest whenever she realized she had a tutoring session with him. She wanted to be around him so often because he made her forget it all. Like she was herself again and not some heart broken girl that moped around all day. Yet she didn’t know if she was ready to pursue another relationship so quickly, still hesitant about making any moves. Hell, she didn’t even know if he actually liked her or if it was his usual flirtatious, friendly attitude. He truly was a good friend but that is what made it so hard to decipher. 
Little did she know he was essentially thinking the same thing, he wanted so badly to make Y/n his but he didn’t want to overwhelm her so quickly. He had spent countless nights laying awake, thinking about her. The way she walked, the way she talked, wondering what her lips felt like. Thinking about waking up next to her, making her breakfast in the mornings. Just spending time with her, he wanted to treat her right. Make moments with her that would last forever. Engraved in their hearts and minds, and hopefully, eventually seal it all with a ring. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He tried to apologize, placing his hand on her leg to get her attention. 
“I know, it’s fine. I’m just tired.” She sighed heavily as she turned back to him, sitting up to face him properly, “Like I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I know I’m over him but I just can't get rid of all these feelings swirling around in my chest and I don’t know what to do, Tetsu.” She spoke softly in hopes he wouldn’t hear the shakiness in her words as her eyes glassed over. 
In that moment, Kuroo thought long and hard in the matter of seconds. Was this his chance? That one opportunity, that one moment where he could finally change things for the better?
“Y/n,” He began, the confident demeanor he usually dawned all of a sudden gone, “I honestly don’t know if this is the right time to say this. And I totally understand if you’re not ready and never want to talk to me again but I just need to tell you. I think it’ll be better for the both of us.” 
As he spoke, Y/n’s heart rate began to pick up, suddenly hyper aware of how loud it was beating. Echoing in her head, trying to dismiss it as Kuroo continued. Yet someone how her mind was already jumping to conclusions, a million scenarios playing out in her head all at once. 
“Um- I, uh-...I like you a lot. I have for a while now. And obviously I’m hoping you like me to but, again, no pressure especially since you just got out of a relationship not too long ago and you might not be ready-” Kuroo’s rambling was interrupted by the feeling of warm, soft lips. 
A wave of euphoria took over his senses as he was pulled by the collar of his shirt to meet Y/n’s lips in the middle. The shock that was evident on his wide eyes immediately washed away, allowing himself to fall victim to the moment. A warmth growing in his chest realizing that he finally got to fulfill it all with her, every waking moment he had spent with her was all starting to make even more sense. 
Relishing in her touch, her presence. Savoring every time their lips would part and meet again in yet another passionate kiss. Her lips plush and sweet, tasting of her strawberry chapstick. 
Eventually, the books and papers that littered the bed earlier were long forgotten and scattered on the floor. The soft, gentle kisses had grown to ones of desire and lust, clothes being shed by the minute as Y/n and Kuroo became tangled in the sheets. 
It didn’t take long until they were pressed chest to chest, hands wandering as Kuroo’s lips trailed from her lips, nipping her jaw, eventually trailing lower to her neck. Paying extra attention to the column of her throat, noting the sultry moans that fell from her lips as he did so. 
“Y/n,” Kuroo abruptly pulled away from her, towering over her smaller frame, “Are you sure you want to do this? Because like I said before I don’t want to rush-” 
“Kuroo, do you really think I’d be naked under you if I didn’t?” Her voice dripping with sarcasm, correcting herself a second later with a softer voice, “But thank you for your concern. I appreciate you being so thoughtful.” A blush crept up her cheeks as her hands trailed up his broad chest, fingers tracing the strong muscles underneath. 
“Anything for you,” The captain’s head fell into the junction between her neck and shoulder, placing a chaste kiss on the warm skin, “Let me show you how long I’ve waited. To make moments like this with you. To treat you right and learn more than there is to know about you.” 
In that moment everything felt right, like this was exactly where they were both meant to be. Limps tangled as their lips met in another kiss. Driven by the growing tension that was rising between them, lust evident in every move they made. 
Soon enough, breathing became feathery and hot as Kuroo’s hips rocked into hers. His face buried in her neck as her hands clasped his back, little moon crescent marks and scratches littered across his shoulders. With a firm grip, he sat up, eyes wandering to where he clasped her hips. Admiring the divots his fingers imprinted as they dug into the plush skin, surely to leave pretty bruises for later. 
“Kuroo, I-” Y/n whined, voice just above a whisper, eyebrows knit together, desperate for release. He could tell she was close by the way her walls fluttered around his length, only enticing him closer to his own release.
“I know, cum for me. I’ve got you.” He sang out, gently cupping her cheek with his large hand, continuing to thrust up into her. 
He watched in awe as he drove her over the edge, face morphing to the pleasure rippling throughout her body. The muscles in her lower abdomen going taunt as they spasmed with her release. Mouth hanging open, a pretty drawn out cry leaving her lips as she peaked, triggering Kuroo’s own high. 
To which his body fell forward, again chest to chest with Y/n as he brought her in for a kiss. Taking in every shake and cry she uttered, all because of him. 
With his head on her shoulder, Kuroo caught his breath, arms snaking around her waist to bring Y/n impossibly closer to him as he embraced her tightly. 
“Thank you.” He mumbled against her skin, kissing it softly after he spoke. 
A giggle rang in his ears, “For what?”
He smiled, breathing in her scent and just soaking in her presence all together, “For making every moment worth waiting for.”
.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.
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