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#also I think there will be a new chapter in almost a week??? Im not sure but hope so. I cant waittt
donaviolet · 1 month
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Sigma my babygirl. wake up pls
uncolored version just in case <3
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pillowenvelopchair · 8 months
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@un-local hi :3
doodles from the fic Still Waters Run Deep!
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stevie-petey · 14 days
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episode one: suzie, do you copy?
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”  Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”
Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 9.6k
Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !
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June 27th, 1985.
A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.
In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.
The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,
It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.
There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.
Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.
As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”
You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”
“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.
“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”
Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”
You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.
“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.
Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”
“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”
“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”
His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”
“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”
You gasp. “You’re lying!”
“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”
“What about Mike and El?”
“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”
Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”
Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”
“Please? I could be poor soon!”
“No, it’s not going to happen–”
“But–”
A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.
It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.
Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”
She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”
“Hello to you too, Henderson.”
You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”
“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.
Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”
Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”
You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.
“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.
“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”
Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”
Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”
“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”
“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”
Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”
You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”
Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”
Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”
“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.
“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.
Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.
He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”
Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”
You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.
Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”
You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”
Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.
When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.
The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”
But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.
In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.
A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.
The phone rings.
“Right on time, honey.”
“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.
Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.
Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.
“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.
Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”
“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.
“You two are the worst together.”
“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”
“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”
Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“And yet you stay.” You tease.
“And yet I stay.”
You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.
The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkin’s pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.
It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.
By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.
It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.
Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.
Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”
“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”
The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”
You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”
“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”
The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”
She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.
Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.
You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?
At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.
Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”
“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.
There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”
You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”
Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”
Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”
Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”
“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”
“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”
Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”
You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.
The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.
You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.
“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”
Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”
“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.
You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.
“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.
Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”
You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.
Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”
You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.
Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”
Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”
He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”
Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”
You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.
Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.
Seems it’s time for their movie.
You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”
“Ow, Y/N!”
“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”
Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”
“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”
Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”
Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”
“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.
You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”
“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.
However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”
You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”
Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.
Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”
Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.
Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.
“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.
“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.
“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?
You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”
Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.
Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”
You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.
However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.
When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.
She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.
Robin, however, clearly has other plans.
“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.
“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”
“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.
Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”
Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”
“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”
“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”
She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”
“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”
“Okay, so what?”
“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”
Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”
“Technically I dumped her–”
“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.
Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”
Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”
“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.
“Harrington!”
There it is.
“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”
Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don’t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”
Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”
Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.
You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.
After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”
Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.
It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.
It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.
Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”
Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.
Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”
“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.
“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”
“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.
Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”
Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.
You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”
Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”
The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.
Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.
“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.
“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.
Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”
“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.
Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”
The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”
“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.
Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”
You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”
Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.
Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.
“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.
You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”
“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.
“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.
A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”
Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”
“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.
“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”
You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”
Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”
“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”
You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.
As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”
Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”
“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.
“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.
You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”
“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”
“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”
You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”
From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.
Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”
“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.
“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”
The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”
“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”
The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”
“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.
The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”
“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.
“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.
“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”
Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”
“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.
“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”
Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”
“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”
“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.
“Since when?”
“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”
Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”
“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”
Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”
Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”
For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.
Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.
You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.
“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.
Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”
“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.
You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”
“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.
“You’re dating a Mormon?”
Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”
“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.
Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”
“Scary people–”
Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”
“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”
“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”
“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.
Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”
“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.
“But they were also star crossed lovers.”
“Who killed themselves.”
Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”
You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”
“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.
Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”
“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.
With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”
Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”
You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”
“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.
“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.
Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”
“It’s gross!” Will voices again.
You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”
“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”
You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”
Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”
Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.
You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.
“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.
“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.
“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.
At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”
“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.
You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”
“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.
Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.
Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dusin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.
“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.
“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”
No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.
Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”
More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.
You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.
“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”
“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.
“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.
Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.
Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”
“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”
“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.
Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”
“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.
Dustin gasps. “She exists!”
“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”
Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. “I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”
“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”
Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”
“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”
Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”
“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.
“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”
“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.
Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”
Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”
Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”
“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.
You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”
“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.
As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”
His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.
“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”
Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.
He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”
You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”
“Russian.” Dustin whispers.
Everything changes, then.
You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.
“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”
He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.
You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.
When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.
“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”
“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.
Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”
Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”
Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.
He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”
Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”
You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”
“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.
“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I… I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”
“Y/N, are you in danger–”
“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”
“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.
Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”
“Anytime, angel. You know that.”
And you do.
Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.
-
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 29] || [Chapter 31]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ cw: injuries + recovery Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: johnny is a filthy man :) but also we love him so is that a problem? no, it's not.
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Chapter 30: Playing House
It took a while, but, Simon got healthy, and John and Kyle got their soreness’ settled enough to be able to go back to work.
Johnny, however, needed a little extra TLC. Being shot in the shoulder involved a longer period of medical leave, paired with a long while of physical therapy…
And that means that he decided to make himself your problem.
The rest of the lads left on a mission a few days after being cleared and, as such, left Johnny with you. Not because the lad is incapable of looking after himself, but more so because he, himself, decided he didn’t want to be away from you.
And so, whenever you leave for work, Johnny leaves for PT, then, goes to base for a bit, mostly doing work on things that he can feasibly do without straining his left shoulder/arm… Like doing paperwork and reports, going to the gym for cardio, crunches, and leg and hip workouts… Then he comes home to you.
He goes shopping for you, cooks you dinner, cleans after the two of you, despite your insistence that he rest… But, as it turns out, Johnny isn’t good at that.
Nonetheless, the flat is cleaner than ever before, Johnny’s drawing supplies are permanently stationed on the dining room table, next to your laptop, and some of his clothes have taken a permanent spot in your closet.
And, of course, he spends every night in your bed, spooning you from behind and hiding his face in your neck while you watch tiktoks, talk, or he regale you with the most ridiculous of puns.
In a way, it’s like Johnny MacTavish is your live-in boyfriend. Or, rather, that you’re playing house with him.
You wouldn’t say you hate it. In fact, it’s quite nice to have someone staying with you all night… Johnny is a good partner, he’s helpful and chill and provides wonderful cuddles…
Though you’ve jokingly started calling him ‘Johnny Price’, because, since he hasn’t been working for a month now, he’s let his beard grow out. And he looks like Price more often than he does not.
It’s on week three of your new routine with Johnny when you’re at work, that you get a text from him:
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Johnny: guess what bonnie. Johnny: [1 Video Attachment]
You definitely should’ve put on some headphones before you watched that video during work… His grunting and groaning was almost pornographic and definitely earned you a few confused/worried looks from your coworkers…
But all you could think of was how he was finally easing back into his arm/shoulder workouts, which meant he finally got cleared by his PT to do as such!
you: did you finally get cleared johnny? 🥺 Johnny: cleared at 50%. Johnny: not there yet. but soon. you: I’M SO PROUD OF YOU! 🫶🫶🫶 Johnny: thank ye bonnie  you: this calls for a celebration! Johnny: i like how ye think bonnie but im not cleared yet to be able to manhandle ye 😏 you: get ur mind out of the gutter johnny price!!!!!!!! Johnny: oof not ye still calling me that! you: ur beard is looking like his what do u expect of me! 🙄 Johnny: yer right idk what i expected. Johnny: so about this celebration. you: i was thinking we go out for dinner? Johnny: are we going to dress up nice? you: i wasn’t thinking we’d go somewhere super fancy because i do not have money johnnyyyy Johnny: oh good because i dont think i can button up a shirt my shoulder is sore 😖 you: okay then! nando’s!!! 🫶  you: and i’ll give you a shoulder rub when we get home Johnny: speaking my language bonnie.
And so that’s what you did. You went home in a hurry to shower and change, and, for once, Johnny wasn’t there, having chosen to shower and change at base.
You met up in front of the Nando’s closest to your flat and you immediately chuckled at the sight of him. Sure, he had changed, but he was still very much wearing a pair of jeans, sneakers and a grey zip-up hoodie… Although you could very obviously tell he was naked beneath the hoodie.
“Mo leannan.” He murmured in an exaggeratedly polite tone as he popped the door open for you with his good arm.
“Thank you, my good sir…” You joked, which caused you both to chuckle and shake your head.
You got inside, ordered your food and, as you talked, you site adjacent to him, right on his left side, so you could gently rub his arm with your hand.
“Do you miss the lads?” You ended up asking him as you caressed his bicep and shoulder with your hand, watching him wince a bit at it, because he felt so sore from his first workout.
“A little.” Johnny admitted as he looked toward you. “Do you miss ‘em?” He returned the question. You found yourself nodding in reply.
“Having you here is wonderful though… I… quite miss you lot when you’re all gone together. Not to mention I worry sick for you.” You admitted and pressed your lips together a bit awkwardly.
“You do?” He asked you, to which you nodded. So, he continued. “Well.. I guess I understand. I imagine my mam and sisters worry about me too… As do the Kyle and the Captain’s families.” He conceded.
“That’s actually…” You found yourself trailing off as the waiter brought you your orders and you thanked him, unboxing your food so you could dig in.
“As I was saying…” You trailed off. “That’s actually an interesting point… I feel like I know very little about you and the guys’ when it comes to your personal lives… Outside of hobbies and what you do with me.” You mused as you glanced at him as he dug into his double chicken burger one-handed.
“I don’t know much about the others myself to be honest with you.” Johnny admitted as he stole one of your chips off your plate.
“Really?” You asked softly as you ate your own sandwich yourself, nodding along as he continued speaking.
“We try to keep our… ‘outside’ lives under wraps. Even being a team… what we talk about is always very superficial.” He trailed off.
“So you don’t know anything about the rest of them, nor them about you?” You cocked a brow in confusion.
“Oh, no, bonnie, I talk about myself a whole lot, I’m a blabber mouth, me.” He joked and winked at you. “But family is one of those topics that’s best kept under wraps in our line of work.” He told you as he leaned in, rubbing his thumb on the corner of your mouth to wipe it clean of peri-peri sauce. Then, he sucked his own thumb clean.
“What about me? Do I get to know about you?” You asked him playfully as you leaned forward, setting your elbow on the table as you lean in to him, eyebrows raised in intrigue.
“Tell ye what, bonnie.” Johnny leaned toward you too, licking his fingers clean and then wiping them on a napkin before he set a hand on your thigh under the table. “Anything I tell ye about my family is not going to do them justice… So how about I take ye up to meet my family over the summer… And ye meet them directly? Could even take the Captain, Simon and Kyle with us.” He offered.
Your eyes widened a bit and you blinked away the surprise, staring at him like he had grown a second head.
“Meeting your family? Really? Isn’t it a bit early for that…?” You chuckled a bit sheepishly.
“Aye, maybe it is…” He trailed off. “But at this point, I’m basically livin’ wit ye and ye’ve looked after me in sickness, haven’t ye?” He joked. “And I’ve fended off yer ex… so I’ve looked after ye in health, haven’t I?”
Rolling your eyes in amusement, you shook your head. You knew he was just joking, the look in his eyes showed it… “Are you implying that we’re married, Johnny?” You teased him playfully.
“I’m just saying…” He trailed off playfully, a playful smirk on his lips. “And, if we were married, not saying that we are,… I’d make sure to take ye home tonight and rearrange yer guts if ye let me, mo leannan.”
Looking away and biting your lip, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Shut it…” You trailed off. “You need to rest, your shoulder’s bad still.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t use my mouth on ye… and that you can’t be on top.” He added before he grabbed another one of your chips and popped it in his mouth.
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling ,
@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,
@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes ,
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@neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine ,
@kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 ,
@gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 ,
@kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust ,
@thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket
661 notes · View notes
trashogram · 3 months
Text
He Chose You (Pt. 2)
Lucifer/Reader
Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
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Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani
‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’
Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors. 
Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with. 
These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 
Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company. 
And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard. 
You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water. 
“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”
Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be. 
If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net… 
Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire. 
Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold. 
With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.
There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.
——
“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”
“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you. 
The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance. 
It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering. 
“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.” 
“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.
There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight. 
He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.
‘Quack!’ 
“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs. 
Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly. 
You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly. 
The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.” 
“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen. 
You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips. 
“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.” 
You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.” 
Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke. 
“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth. 
The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy. 
It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck. 
‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’ 
“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you. 
You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.” 
Mrs. Farrow beamed. 
“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”
“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned. 
He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.” 
Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”
“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”
Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more. 
The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.
The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.
“Baphomet.” 
You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again. 
“O-oh, the statue is…?”
Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.” 
The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it. 
“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.” 
“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.” 
The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”
You turned to Warren again. 
“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.” 
Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.” 
“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.” 
“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious. 
The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.” 
Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.” 
Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.” 
“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”
“Dinner time!”
Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself. 
Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”
——
All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine. 
The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least. 
As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself. 
“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”
“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.” 
“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.” 
Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.” 
‘Quack quack’
Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.
“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!” 
The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned. 
She had a small wicker basket in her arms. 
“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.” 
As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier. 
“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence. 
“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!” 
The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.
“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”
“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.” 
There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat. 
“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!” 
“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!” 
“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room. 
“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”
“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.” 
A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.” 
“The cost must’ve —”
“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently. 
You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket. 
Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you. 
So funny. 
… You felt funny. 
Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there. 
“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…” 
Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat. 
The basket was gone. 
Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table. 
“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”
Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. 
“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.” 
Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater. 
Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright. 
The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you. 
“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”
“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”
You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock. 
“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.
Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass. 
Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell. 
“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.” 
“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.” 
“Oh no, thank you.” 
——
When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right. 
It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it. 
‘Well that’s good.’ 
The heavy feeling in your arms was still present. 
‘That’s not so good.’
You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly. 
Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall. 
You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’ 
The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body. 
That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you. 
Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was… 
Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him. 
“Hello there!”
695 notes · View notes
roosterr · 9 months
Text
white flag ✹ ch 4
note: i had to rewrite this chapter TWICE. im sick of it so pls enjoy. also forgot to mention on here that I have been away this week on a little holiday. didn't stop me writing tho lol.
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pairing: ghost x gn!reader
wc: 2.3k
no use of y/n
readers callsign is 'stingray'
summary: while you're gone on a mission, ghost has time to ponder your relationship, and comes to a long awaited realisation
warnings: ghost's pov, mentions of blood and injury, lil bit of angst
ao3
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ghost never knew how to feel about you.
at first, he really did hate you; you were the bright-eyed new recruit with seemingly endless optimism, he simply couldn't help but be annoyed by you. honestly, he half expected you to tap out a week into the job. you were just so… normal, he found it hard to believe you were cut out for this line of work.
of course, he trusted price's decision to hire you, and deep down ghost knew he wouldn't have recruited you if he didn't think you could handle it, but he looked down on you anyway. it didn't matter how good price thought you were, you'd have to earn ghost's respect.
it was infuriating, the way you fit so easily into the dynamic of the team. they all liked you right off the bat, even the captain, who was notoriously hard to impress. he observed you from afar, watching how you easily broke down their walls and fell into place next to them like it was nothing.
if he was honest with himself, he might have even called it jealousy. it seemed that everything was so natural to you; everything that he struggled with, you did with such ease you made it look like child's play. he especially hated the way you could just be a person. you didn't lock up every time someone spoke to you, you didn't need to sit with a visual on every available exit, and you didn't need to analyse every person you met in the fear that the second you turn your back they'll stab you in it.
you pissed him off, but what was worse than anything else about you, is that ghost had to fight with himself not to like you too.
it was the first time he got sent on an assignment with you that he began to understand why everyone seemed to get along with you so well. the ruthless efficiency with which you did your job was almost shocking to see. he couldn't have predicted how well the two of you worked together; like a well oiled machine, by the end of the mission he didn't even need to communicate verbally, you could just tell what his next move would be.
he finally understood why price fought so hard to get you on the one-four-one – and he finally found it in himself to respect you.
but that didn't change the way he felt about you beyond the field. you were soft, too kind, and too optimistic, you weren't hardened by the job like him. so he went out of his way to be tougher on you than he was with the others, and he rationalised it by telling himself he was helping you; that without a little toughening up, this world would break you, and for some reason, he couldn't stand the thought of that.
when you started to resent him back, it made his stomach feel heavy in a way he'd never felt before. it was new, and uncomfortable, and it scared him. he wasn't sure when he first noticed it, but it only got worse when he came to the realisation that you didn't care for him like you did for gaz and soap.
you could joke around so easily with them, but you go quiet when he enters the room. you never meet his eyes, and make sure to never be physical with him. when he addresses you over comms, you answer with a quick 'yes sir' and that's the end of it. ghost would never admit it, but the distance between you hurt – even if it was by design. 
as he lay awake that night, he thought about what it would be like if you treated him the same way you treated the others. he couldn't stop the tiny smile that pulled at his lips as he imagined laughing with you, sitting next to you, touching you.
he imagined you, taking his calloused hand into your own, so gentle and kind like you always were, and the way his pulse skyrocketed scared him into staying up the rest of the night.
after that, the way he saw you changed. where he used to think you were soft – and therefore weak – instead he saw the way you chose to be kind. when once your constant jokes with the others was an inability to take things seriously, now it was your specialty way to keep up morale, and ghost actually found himself chuckling at a few of your quips.
it was like his entire perspective had shifted, everything about you that used to annoy him gradually became something he appreciated about you.
it took him a while, but he finally came to the conclusion that he… liked you. 
but it was bittersweet, because he already knew you didn't want him, and he doubted you ever would. you'd never see him in the same light, he'd ruined his chances before he even knew he wanted one.
maybe it was for the best, though. you deserved better, someone who would treat you right, someone normal. he already knew you didn't want him, and he could never blame you for that. people like you don't fall in love with people like him, that's just the way it is.
so he resigns himself to burying the feelings he harbours for you. you never had to find out, if you did you'd surely be disgusted by someone like him being interested in you. he couldn't handle rejection like that, not from you.
when price told him he'd have to take you in when your house burned down, he was fucking terrified. it shook him to his core, how much he liked the idea of the two of you living under the same roof. he did his best to avoid you, leave you in peace like he assumed you wanted; but you – wonderful, kind you – wouldn't just leave him to his misery.
you were being nice to him, and he couldn't figure out why. he assumed it was because he was doing you a favour by letting you stay with him; he couldn't even trick himself into believing that you might be doing it because you liked him.
every night, he'd go back to that fantasy of existing with you, by your side instead of at arm's length. you were so close, just a single door separating you, his hands started sweating every time he passed by the living room.
he knew he was a goner the morning you woke up before him. he'd scarcely ever seen you in a casual setting, but walking into the kitchen and being greeted by you sitting at the table, the domesticity of it all hit him like a bullet to the chest.
it was exactly what he wanted, and it scared the shit out of him, so he panicked. he needed to stay away from you, for your own good, so he did what the ghost does best.
he ran away.
he didn't even consider what you'd think, he just had to get away, before he said something he'd end up regretting.
when you came through the door, soaking wet, and laid into him – which he knew he deserved – he immediately regretted leaving you behind. seeing you cry, knowing it was because of him, it made him feel sick. he knew he never wanted you to feel that heartache again, especially if it was because of him.
he'd give anything to start again with you, go back to the beginning and do it all right this time, but the only thing he could do was try and make up for what he'd put you through.
the hot chocolate was a peace offering; he knew you loved it – he even knew about the stash you had of it hidden in price's office, away from the other soldiers. he half expected you to just tell him to piss off, but when you accepted it, he felt his heart soar.
it ignited a spark of hope within him. more than anything, he just wanted you to like him, it didn't matter if you never saw him the way he wanted you to.
he intended on waking you up the next evening, before he left for the pub, but when he saw how peaceful you looked while you slept, he couldn't bring himself to disturb you. 
you stayed with gaz and soap most of the night, and he spent the night watching you from the bar and dimly lit corners, assuring himself that you were okay. when it came time to drag you home with him, he had never been so nervous. taking care of people was the exact opposite of his strong suit, especially when they started crying at him.
he almost couldn't believe his ears when you said you liked him.
he'd dragged you home with an arm wrapped around your waist, his head feeling light as a feather. by all accounts, he should've been annoyed at having to look after you in your inebriated state, but he found himself smiling under his mask the whole way home – even when you almost threw up on him.
when you rested your head on his shoulder on the bathroom floor, he might've actually short-circuited. all thoughts except for you evacuated his mind, and a wonderfully warm feeling blossomed in his chest that made his stomach flutter like never before.
he came so close to spilling his guts to you, but then he remembered that you were drunk, and you most likely wouldn't remember it if he did. so he resigned himself to tucking you into bed with an uncharacteristically gentle touch.
the next day, sitting on that park bench with you, laughing with you like he'd wanted to for so long – it was everything to him. it sent his pulse through the roof, it was complicated, and it was so pleasantly warm.
the logical part of him knew that this would only end painfully for him, but found himself willing to risk that if it meant more of these moments with you.
but of course, he'd fucked it all up at the first opportunity. he'd screamed in your face and he had yet to even apologise for it – for any of it. he felt immeasurably guilty, but he was so scared he couldn't even force himself to be around you.
even price had yelled at him for how he'd treated you. you were traumatised, you had a very real phobia as a result of the house fire, and he felt like a fucking fool for not noticing. he swore to himself he'd make it up to you, he'd grovel at your feet for the rest of his life if he had to, and if you never forgave him he still wouldn't blame you.
he regretted it – of course he did. he let his fear consume him; the fear of you getting hurt, of losing you, and not being able to do anything to save you.
almost as soon as the words had passed his lips, he realised what he was doing, he heard himself. the anger in his voice, the fearful look in your eyes as they glistened with tears, it was everything he didn't want to be.
he felt just like his–
no. he refused to even entertain that thought. he'd never be… that. you deserved so, so much better than the broken husk of man that he was. no matter what he did, he would never deserve you; and it was selfish, but he still hoped that you could somehow forgive him.
it's only been a few days since you left on that assignment for laswell, but he's found that being alone in his house didn't bring him the same comfort it used to. the silence never bothered him before, in fact he greatly preferred it, but now it just felt empty. like there was something missing, leaving a hole in the space it used to occupy.
deep down, the rational part of simon knows that it's you, of course it is, but you wanted nothing to do with him right now. he knew he had to fix things, he would never get over the hollow feeling in his chest if he didn't. that's why he was currently standing at the edge of the runway in the middle of the night, watching the ramp of the helo lower to reveal you, gaz, and the captain.
you looked shattered, like you hadn't slept for days – which was probably true – and he was suddenly overcome with the urge to gather you into his arms and not let go. he wondered if the remnants of dried blood that were visible on your hands and face were yours.
he felt his heart rate pick up as you made your way closer to him, his icy stare softening when he sees how you drag your feet across the tarmac.
when you were close enough, he reached his hand out to grasp your arm, opening his mouth to speak, but he never makes contact.
you sidestep him, and he feels his heart break in his chest. any words he was planning on saying die on his tongue as he turns to watch you slip through the doors without a hint of acknowledgement to him.
price gives him a rough pat on the shoulder as he and gaz pass by. "fix it, simon." he murmurs, before disappearing through the doors as well, leaving him alone outside the building.
he will fix it – he'd do whatever it takes because simon doesn't just need you, he's come to the alarming conclusion that he loves you – he just has no idea how.
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taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna ,
@cathnoneofyourbusiness , @madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade , @yoichiislovie , @nirvanaaaonly , @ameliaamareeee , @batmanunicorns523 , @sapientiia , @thesecretwriter , @susanmukami , @ryze1113 , @stars-andfreckles , @spya1 , @tunaa-luvchrm , @tzutology , @kuruksenshi
if your name is crossed out, i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry! ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ
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tan1shere · 5 months
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Slumber Party
Ellie williams x fem reader!
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A/n: Hello my lovelies, first post on here (more active on wattpad) but thought I'd occasionally post here when I'm bored. If you have any requests at all they're definitely open! Also this is kinda short but I don't plan on making the next part as short. Enjoyyyy ☆°•
My masterlist
Summary: like the song slumber party. Ellie thinks she can treat you better then your shitty girlfriend
Warnings: smut, (not in this chapter) read at your own risk (mdni) Dom but soft, protective, ellie! Reader is quite innocent, is very soft also. Cunnilingus (duh- also not in this chapter) your girlfriend in this is an asshole. Abuse, somewhat angst, crying. Lmk if there was anything else!
Pt 2 here! ~ pt 3 here!
Ellie hated Isabel, your girlfriend. She treated you horribly, and Ellie really hated when you'd bawl your eyes out over the phone to her whenever Isabel would storm out of your shared apartment. She hated the fact anyone would make you cry. She never liked seeing you unhappy. Isabel shared this hatred. She never liked you hanging around Ellie, even if you have known Ellie almost all your life. She would scold you after everytime you and her would hang out. You'd come back to the apartment smiling. "What're you smiling about?" You just smile more happy to tell. "Ellie she makes the funniest jo-" "I don't like you being round her Y/n." You would always stare blankly at her, struggling to find the words, leaving your mouth open while you ponder.
Today was not off to a great start. Ellie had just been over, you two were having such a great time. "I should probably get going squirt." She would flash her smile at you, ruffling your hair slightly, as she stood to go to the door. Ellie was a bit older then you, and come to think of it so was Isabel. Let's just say you had a thing for older ladies. (Only by like 6 years) You also stand up, seeing her out and saying goodbye. But as you open the door you're met woth those dark brown eyes. Isabel had just arrived back from work. She glares at the auburn haired girl, making her way inside. "Well hi to you too." Ellie scoffs then looks at you. "Text you when im home." You give her a small nod and a smile before she leaves to her car. You turn around to be faced with a stern Isabel. "You know how I feel about her being in our home. Especially when I'm not here." You never really talk back to Isabel you always apologize and go into the kitchen to make food. She was truly a bitch and she started showing her true colors the moment you two moved in together. You never understood what you would do so wrong. You made every dinner. Every lil food she'd want. The laundry. Just to please her. And although it'd work, it'd never last. "I'm sorry Iz.. She just really wanted to show me this art she was working on and in person. Nothing more I swear." She let's out a scoff. "Why should I believe you it's almost every day you spend with her. It's sickening and pathetic." You stare at her as she says that. She would always make you feel stupid. When in fact you were quite smart you knew what most things meant. Maybe not so much bedroom stuff. But you were book smart nonetheless. Speaking of bedroom. You were basically a virgin. You've kissed Isabel many times done a lil something here and there but it was definitely not much. So you were certainly not confident on that subject. Although Ellie would tell you all sorts of stories about the girls she's been with. It fascinated you to learn all these new terms and what everything was. "I promise to talk to you before hand next time-" She instantly cuts you off. "Why are you still standing here. Cook, I've been working all day." She spits going to your guys shared bedroom. You sigh doing so. And that was your life.
It was maybe a couple weeks after, you had felt like you were coming down with something so you decided that bed rest was the best thing. It was now 3 in the afternoon. You were sleeping in your bed when the door busted open. "What the fuck are you still doing in bed it's almost 4!" Isabel was home and not happy. You sit up a bit. "Yes I know I'm sorry bu-" She drops her bags. "This place is a mess, there's dishes out. Foods not even ready. Laundry is still in the hamper. What fucking else." You look at her softening your look. "Iz, I'm sorry- I woke up feeling horrid so I decided to stay in bed." She shakes her head. "Even when I have the worst headache known to man I still get my ass up and work. You know all that sweet money, I work for that. And you work here that is your job." This was one of the moments were you'd feel bad for yourself. Weak. Weaker right now considering you're sick. You look down at the sheets. "Are you even listening to me? You spoiled brat." She doesn't do what she does next often but when she does you know you're in the shit. She hits you. Hard. "Wonder why I have a headache all the time. It's you and your whiney voice. Look at how pathetic you are." She glares down at your drowsy figure. You feel tears finally sting as you had held them in. Refusing to let yourself be so weak, but you give in. Feeling overwhelmed with emotions right now. "What the fuck are you gunna be like when I go away in a few weeks huh? You better keep this place spotless you know about the cameras. I'll be watching you." Yes. The oh so lovely cameras. They're only in the kitchen, living room and laundry. The only places you slave away at. "I will iz I promise." She hums. "I'll believe it when i see it. I needa go out and grab some stuff. Make sure dinners ready when I get back." She says before getting her keys and leaving. You then sob. Letting it all out as you shakily grab your phone going to the only person who knows how to comfort you. Ellie.
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When she arrives not long after, giving a honk. You go outside and get in the passenger seat. "Off anywhere?" You shake your head. "No that's alright. I don't want to get yelled at.." Ellie sighs. "Bub, you can't keep letting her treat you like this-" "if I left I'd have nowhere to go Els.." She keeps looking at you. "Yes you do. Mine." You let out a small breath looking down at your hands. "Everythings so messy." She nods, even if you can't see. "I know angel but my offer still and will forever stand. I think you should take it." You just wipe the small tears forming at your eyes. "How was your day?" She hates how you change the subject. She always has. She wants to talk about it with you more. Comfort you more. "Pretty easy going. Do you want a hug love?" You shake your head. "Its best if you don't come near me right now-" "I promise it's not gunna affect me if you cry. You know that." You nod. "I know, but I'm sick- thats why she yelled at me.." She furrows her brows. "She got mad at you because you weren't feeling well? What a fucking bitch." You sigh, in the midst of a slight cough. "Angel you should go back in and rest. Let me help-" You immediately shake your head. "She'd know you were there. I- I couldn't risk that." You always felt awful. Not because you got yelled at but because she would want to pick a fight with Ellie too. Ellie was older then Iz too, more mature. Never bought into her crap. "I'll make sure she doesn't yell at you, you really need rest you work your ass off-" You stop her talking. "I don't want her to try anything with you Els." She shakes her head. "She won't. I promise just let me make you some soup and tuck you in. Please, just that." You contemplate whether or not you should but you nod regardless.
She was making the soup trying to be as speedy in hopes she wouldn't bump into Isabel. "Here you go. Say you made it for yourself. I also cleaned a lil." She sends you a wink. And when she says a lil she means the whole lot. "Els, you seriously didn't have to." She smiles gently. "No but I wanted to. I also made something else. Knowing grump would be hungry when she gets back." You look at her so thankful. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you." She gives you a kiss on the head. "Call if you need anything else. I love you." She says while looking in your eyes. "I love you too Els." You respond sweetly. Oh how stupid you were to realize how INlove she was with you. But she plans to show you sooner or later. As she's the one you should truly, be with.
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twilghtkoo · 1 year
Note
hi can i make a req for haechan? like he sees his significant other’s graduation picture, whether accidentally or oc sent/showed it to him is up to you (i took my grad photos last week, this is me asking to satisfy my guilty pleasure) thank you so much 🙏
pairings. haechan x reader
genre. just pure fluff :(
notes. hehehe i love this one sm, thank u for the req anon <3 this is also not proofread i literally wrote this so fast bc i wanted it out asap
-
you had just received your cap and gown photos from your school, immediately looking through the gallery of the numerous shots you had taken. the photographer really didn't let you see the photos when you were there, but you're grateful you're at least able to pick out your favorite ones for the graduation.
it's a couple more months til you are finally able to close off on your education and spending most nights crying in front of your textbooks and finally start a new chapter with your degree. being internally grateful for haechan, who's been beside you on those tearful nights, becoming some sort of pillar in your life. you are sure if he wasn't with you, you'd be a college drop out.
you were satisfied with a few of them, saving them to your camera roll and sending the selective to your boyfriend.
haechan is with the dreamies, having some schedules overseas. your text being sent to him as he's eating a late dinner in renjun's hotel room. he digs his phone out of his pockets, a muffled scream coming out of his nose, his mouth full with the bite of food he took seconds ago. his legs are bouncing, excitingly as he struggles to unlock his phone.
"what is it?" renjun asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"yn texted me." he nods knowingly, going back to food.
haechan finally manages to open his phone, tapping on your messages.
bubs *4 attachments*
bubs it's almost over T^T
thankfully, haechan swallowed his food because he abruptly stands up from his chair, holding up the phone so close to his face with a sulky face.
"gosh, you scared me. . what?" renjun sighs, holding a hand to his chest as he glares at his friend.
haechan just cooes at his phone with a pained expression, his knees becoming weak at the images displayed on his phone. "my baby, oh, my heart." haechan let his legs give out, dropping to his knees as he holds his phone close to his chest.
renjun just eyes him for a minute before taking the phone from his hand. "what is it?" he questions.
his friend is next to coo, "aww, she looks so cute in her cap and gown." renjun compliments your photos.
"yeah, i knowwww. . ." haechan prolongs, still on the floor, renjun thinks he's crying at this point, able to make out sniffles.
haechan knows the distress and tears that your studies have caused you, he's been there through most of them. the amount of times you've questioned your self-worth and abilities to succeed. yet, he believed in you and pulled you out of those dark, self- deprecating thoughts.
haechan takes his phone back and stares at those photos of you a bit longer, he notices how your smile doesn't reach to your ears, like how he makes you smile. but it's still genuine and holds such an awarding and dazzling look that exceeds accomplishment.
my love im so fucking proud of u baby
my love you look so pretty im literally in tears
my love im framing these
renjun i think u broke haechan bestie
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vclvetfleur · 5 months
Text
Freak Show Chapter 6
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Buggy x fem!reader
Summary: After landing on a new island, you've ran into a familiar face that you've had none stop thoughts and fantasizied about since the last time you've seen him.
TW: Dom buggy, degradation, NSFW, smut, MDNI
WC: 6.8K (25 words away for 6.9k)
Notes; This is my longest Buggy chapter yet. I am so proud of it. Im also not the greatest at writing smut. I hope you all are enjoying the fic so far. The updates aren't so frequent, but I hope you guys take time to lmk. Thank you :)
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Chapter 6: 100,000,000 berries
Weeks have gone by, and you haven’t seen Buggy since. You were sure you’d love it this way, but a part of you felt a bit upset. You didn’t understand why. But there was something about his lack of presence that made a part of you feel empty all of a sudden. You shrugged it off most of the time. But the other day after raiding a village you had come across a familiar face. Buggy’s new wanted poster. 150,000,000. Wow. I guess the Marines weren’t too happy about the incident. You felt a mix of proud, but sadness. It was bittersweet. You ignored those feelings more and more.
You couldn’t miss him, and you weren’t going to allow yourself to.
You arrived back onboard, setting sail for a new place to settle and rob. You basically cleaned the whole village of all their belongings. And you didn’t need to kill that many of them either.
You laid in your quarters, staring at the ceiling, letting your thoughts go wild. You found every time you were alone you thought of the moment you swore to forget. You remembered every detail though. Every word. Every kiss. Every single thing. Especially the way he made you feel. You don’t think you ever laid with a man so determined to make you feel as good as you did. You found yourself staying up nights with your hand in your panties trying not to forget any minor detail of it.
You always finished with a waft of shame coming over you afterward. It was something you never saw coming in a million years. It almost felt like a really good nightmare.
You got up in the morning after tossing around for hours thinking about Buggy. You snuck off to the bathroom that attached to your room, opened the shower door, and slid inside. You turned the handle to let the hot water come over your body. You sighed, leaning your hair under the shower head before shampooing and conditioning it. Another perverted thought crept up and you immediately shook it out of your brain. He looked so good on top of you. Nope. You had to ignore these thoughts. You couldn’t do this to yourself.
This was beyond sick. You couldn’t be trusted with your own thoughts.
But neither could Vivienne. She had conversations with him nearly daily on their transponder snails. They spent hours into the night whispering to one another in fear of getting caught or found out. They didn’t feel good about sneaking around, but what they had seemed worth it to betray their captains like this.
“Where are you guys off to now?” Cabaji wondered, hoping he’d be able to get Buggy to set sail for where they were going as well. It’s almost half of the reason your crews were able to run into each other. The other reason was Buggy’s crazy obsession with ‘taking you down’. But it now seemed impossible now that both of your bounties were so high now. You sat at just 100,000,000 berries. 50,000,000 less than Buggy which bruises your ego a bit. But you were working on it. Your competitiveness always got the best of you. If you couldn’t get the highest bounty, you at least needed a higher one than Buggy. It seemed humiliating to be seen as less dangerous than him.
“I’m not too sure, we just left Longiana.” Vivienne huffed at the disappointment.
You couldn’t stand being alone in your room any longer. You pulled your hair in a silked veil to hide your wet hair before putting on your usual attire. You swiped on makeup before making your way out of the quarters. You were greeted by the crew, listening to concerns they had. Just questioned whatever was next. You had been raiding small villages, trying to keep low before having to go back to find the map of the grand line. It was far too dangerous, not just for you, but for everyone aboard the ship. Sure, the grand line is just as unsafe, but this was something preventable. You needed to act smart.
“Where the fuck is Vivienne?” You complained. You were sure she had a few plans she could recommend to you. She came up with decisions sometimes, it was just up to you whether it sounded like a good idea.
“Unsure ma’am. She hasn’t come out this morning. Even for breakfast.” Lily, a member of your crew announced. She was fairly new. She begged and begged to join, doing whatever it took. She tried to prove that she was brutal enough, but brutality wasn’t the only thing you searched for. The only reason you let her join was she had snuck onboard and stayed for days without anyone spotting her. She was quick. Sneaky. Smart. Logical. That’s what you looked for. And she was of good use to you. You had even brought her along to raids and she was able to sneak by food for the crew that would last you at least 3 weeks. The girl had everything it took to be granted the honor of joining you and your crew. She already had such deep dedication. She even won you over by saying she knew you’d be the one ruling every sea known. It was charming.
“Fuck- I’ll get her.” Your eyes rolled back. You couldn’t be sailing to nowhere. You needed a plan at the very least. You headed to her room and opened the door. Vivienne jumped in her bed, giving you an absolutely terrified look as if she had seen the world's scariest film and was told she’d die in 7 days after watching it.
“Oh keep your panties on. What do you recommend we do?” You questioned her.
“What if I was naked?” She asked you, clearly annoyed at the lack of privacy you granted her right now.
“I’ve seen it already. Not interested. Answer the question. None of these dumb fucks have a clue.” You shook your head, placing your hand against your temple, stressed out already after leaving Longiana. You were stressed even while at Longiana. You needed to plan something. You’ve never been so behind. You were always 5 steps ahead. But you felt like you were drowning. Nothing ever came to mind other than Buggy.
“go to Ginevia.” Cabaji whispered in her ear through her transponder. She hid it with her hair covering it.
“Uh- I think Ginevia might be a good place to lay low for a while. Little to no marines. Secluded. Bars everywhere. It seems good enough to stay…” Vivienne recommended. You waited for another village and Vivienne panicked.  “Or maybe… fuck- sorry I didn’t get much sleep last night.” She quickly made up a lie to get you to leave.
“Fine Ginevia it is…” You murmured. “Get rest my love. I need my right-hand man…” You gave her some kind of affectionate words to make up for invading her privacy previously. Her lips turned to a light smile, a part of her dying inside knowing she lied to you.
“I love you.” She granted you that.
“Love you too. Don’t miss dinner today or I’ll barge in here again.” You revealed a smile to her. You rarely showed anyone on board this side of you. But Vivienne was special. Maybe it was all the years spent together or just the fact you’ve always put such trust in her that let you be this way. You never thought she could ever hurt you.
You retreated back to the crew and set course for Ginevia.
“See you later my love…” Cabaji mumbled. Vivienne's smile turned even bigger before pulling the transponder out of her ear. He managed to grant her a smile every time they spoke.
If you could see her, you’d be disgusted.
Hour rolled by and you kept yourself busy by ordering people around. You spent an ungodly and suspicious amount of time with them. You often retreated to your quarters or trained. But you didn’t trust being alone with your thoughts. A rumor flew around that Buggy tortured you and you had gotten a new respect for life and the crew. You knew any day could be your last and you wanted to be around people rather than a hermit. What a load of horse shit.
You even helped out with dinner and setting tables. You sat at the head table, watching people flood into the room. Soon you saw Vivienne as she had made a plate for herself. You spent most of the dinner just giggling and talking to Vivienne about nonsense. “NO! But remember when he was turning around the corner and slipped!” Vivienne cackled loudly.
“No! Please! I forgot! Stop-“You cried in between laughs. “The fuckwad slammed right into a wall and fell!” You let yourself laugh loudly.
“Please stop! My stomach hurts! I can’t!” Vivienne gripped her side, causing you to laugh even louder.
But unfortunately, this could not last the entire night. Slowly everyone left and Vivienne excused herself to her chambers, claiming she was exhausted. You got up and grabbed a bottle of wine before retreating on your own.
You spent the night downing an entire bottle before knocking into a deep slumber.
This became a habit you acquired until hitting Ginevia.
You stepped off the boat before making your way around the village. There were a lot of bars. Vivienne did not lie at all about that. You passed by a wall, seeing wanted posters scattered. Some familiar faces and a few new ones. Monkey D. Luffy… what a dumb name… Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter? Oh, there was a new cutie there too. Sanji… looks like a bit of an asshole, but whatever. Nami… God… Usopp. What a prick. Your eyes landed on two wanted posters freshly put up. Buggy the Clown and yours. You stared for a while.
You felt a tap on your shoulder, drawing your sword quickly, looking behind you. No one… Weird. You felt another. You turned around again. Nothing. You felt wind pick up and without looking, grabbed whatever was being thrown on your shoulder. You pulled it over to examine it to notice it was a gloved hand. Fuck- he was here.
You threw the hand on the floor, bringing your heel to it quickly. “Ow! Bitch!” Buggy yelped from the corner as he came back to retrieve what belonged to him. You couldn’t make any eye contact for whatever reason. You pulled your foot off and made an attempt to leave. You didn’t want to look at him out of fear of how you’d react. “Aww come on! Don’t leave me waiting! It was a joke!” Buggy called out for you.
You chose to ignore him and continued to leave him behind. You could not stand to. Be around him right now was not something you needed. This was enough to itch the craving you had for him. You felt the collar of your dress halts you from moving any further. “Buggy let go.” You demanded, a sternness in your voice.
“Oh, come on, you didn’t miss me? I sure missed you a lot.” Buggy attempted to flirt, your eyes rolling. You recoiled, leaning your body away from him.
“Why would I miss you?” You knew why. You did.
“Hmm might be because I fucked you till you barely could even say another word.” Buggy whispered. He was well aware of how embarrassed you had been afterward, but he knew you desired him just as much as he did. At least he tricked himself into believing it.
“Fucking whatever… Just that was the last time, okay? Leave it at that. You’re not my friend. Or my lover. Just some stupid obnoxious clown who can’t seem to leave me alone.” You spit venom his way, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you be. But you knew he wouldn’t.
“I was here first!” Buggy yelled like a child.
You just ignored him once again, vanishing in thin air. You wandered around, making sure not to bump into anyone to blow your cover. You took this time to steal from the small shops around town. But it seemed like you constantly ran into Buggy. Despite him not seeing you, it seemed like you couldn’t escape him. You finally had gone over an hour without running into him before seeing his wanted poster once again. You couldn’t do it any longer. You had to find him. Just to get this off your mind already.
You wandered around town, unable to find him. The only place he could be was his ship. You walked along the port before finding the boat with the obnoxious jolly roger with his makeup look painted on it. You couldn’t believe you were letting your urges get to you this much. You wondered around before finding his quarters. You opened and shut the door, reappearing in front of him. He sat at his desk creating a new map. He looked a lot less flashy than you were ever used to. You never even knew his hair was that long. You always just assumed it was a part of his hat. His hair was bound with a hair tie as he just sat in his usual striped shirt and pants. You couldn’t help but look at his arms. They were slim yet muscular with small scars scattered around them.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Buggy asked, putting his pen away, laying back in his chair. His head turned to you, waiting for a response.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it since we left the Marine base. I wouldn’t come if I really just wanted to humiliate myself. So don’t make this as embarrassing as it needs to.” You confessed. It hurt to even have to say it. You never had to beg for what you wanted. But you’ve also never wanted something so bad.
“Oh, so you did miss me?” Buggy laughed at you. You groaned, wanting to make an attempt to leave, but you couldn’t pull yourself from doing so. “Beg then…” The room fell quiet. You’ve never had to submit to a man like this. Nor would you have ever allowed this kind of treatment.
“Fuck! Fine.. Plea-“ You began before Buggy cut you off. “No. On your knees and beg.” He ordered. You bit your lip contemplating if it was worth your dignity before lowering yourself on your knees.
“Please- I really just want you to fuck me again.” You begged for him.
“How much have you been thinking about me?” Buggy seemed to be entertained of the idea of you thinking about him. You huffed, ready to die of embarrassment. “Don’t act all shy now. You’re already on your knees.” Buggy pointed out, a laugh escaping his lips, enjoying seeing how seemingly easy this seemed for him now.
“Fuck- okay-… uh, like…” You couldn’t seem to actually confess any of this to him. You swallowed your pride eventually. “Every night. Whenever I’m alone, I always think about it. It’s the one thing I can’t get off my mind.” You quickly spewed out.
Buggy leaned in, seemingly interested in the fact.  “Oh, so you really need it bad huh?” He asked.  His elbows rested on his knees that spread apart from each other before returning to sit upright.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need it.” You said in a sarcastic tone. “Now can the humiliation please end?” This was all so degrading for you. Having to beg for sex was something you never had to do. And having to do so much for slight attention didn’t make it any better.
“Oh, but darling, the humiliation just started.” Buggy laughed at your embarrassment. You shook your head, deciding you were too good for this. You already lost so much of your pride to continue to let this all occur to you. You got up from the floor, heading towards the door mumbling under your breath. “Un fucking believable.”
Buggy watched you for a bit before sending a hand to grab a fist full of your hair and dragging your entire body back onto the floor. You fell down against the wooden floorboard, your knees and hands attempted to catch you. Your eyes went over to Buggy as you heard his boots hitting the wood as he made his way towards you. “I’m not done having my fun.” Buggy bent down in front of you, his face filled with sinister and sadistic ideas of what to put you through.
“I’m not gonna sit here and be humiliated.” You tried to protest.
“Well it isn’t really about what you like right now. You came here. You said you wanted this. I thought you never went against your word…” Buggy continued to demean you, using your own words against you.
-14 months ago-
You had gotten back to your ship after a loot with a few of your crew to see the entire ship disheveled. A few of your crewmates tied against each other or poles that ran throughout the ship as things were thrown around.
A pit of boiling rage filled you up. You dropped whatever was in your hands, a large thud hitting the floor with small clinging continuously hitting the floor. Your hands grew clammy and your face grew hotter by the second. “What the fuck happened here? What the fuck did you idiots allow to happen here?” Your voice boomed throughout the main deck. You inched closer to one of the crewmates, snagging their bounds off of their mouth and grabbing the root of their hair to look your way. “You better give me a good reason that my shit was taken, or you all are being thrown overboard.” You threatened. Vivienne scrambled to assess the damage. “Don’t you think it's a bit harsh…” Vivienne quietly chimed in.
“Shut the fuck up! Unless all your shit is ripped apart and stolen because of incompetent fuckwads, then you have the right to tell me what’s too fucking harsh!” You lashed out before turning back to the scared crewmate. “Now- who the fuck did this?” Your words coming out slowly to demean the crewmate even further. You drew a dagger, placing it under their chin.
“B-b-buggy… His crew ambushed us… It was so fast we couldn’t see it coming…” She cried, snot and droll coming from her face and down to her chin. You pulled the dagger away and released her hair as if it was poisonous to the touch. “Where the fuck did he go?” You asked.
“Look for me?” Buggy called out, standing on a barrel that sat upon the quarter-deck. He held a rolled-up scroll in his hand, waving it around to mock you. Your vision turned completely red, drawing your sword and charging over to him.
Buggy laughed manically before sending a punch over. You drew your sword, swinging to deflect it. You knew it would not do anything to him, but in the moment anything seemed like a rational thought. You forgot he wasn’t normal. His hand reattached itself behind you before striking you in the back of the head. You stumbled, not ready to hit the floor yet. You recovered quickly before charging again. You disappeared, but your footsteps gave you away. Buggy threw punches, missing most of the time, but catching you once he heard your footsteps more clearly. You swung a sword at him repeatedly, chopping him into tiny pieces before he put himself together. You held a grip on your neck, throwing you against one of the shrouds. You reappeared before him, his fingers growing a tighter grip around your throat. His laugh grew more annoying to you than ever.
He stepped down with a bit of a flashy performative state as if he was ready to do a show for the entire ship, bouncing with every step. “Checkmate, sunshine.” He laughed before stepping onto the bowsprit. He jumped off, landing on a smaller boat. You were paralyzed as he left his hand there to keep you pinned. “You morons! Go get him!” You cried out. The only non-bounded crew attempted to grab a smaller boat before realizing they were all sunk and destroyed by Buggy's crew. “Captain we don’t have any…” One of them confessed. You were finally released, and you rushed over to the railing before screaming out into the sea.
“Fucking listen to me! I never go against my word! And I will not stop until you and your crew are fucking gone! I will do whatever it takes!” You cried out. You were completely and utterly embarrassed and defeated.
-now-
“You know…you always knew how to make a girl feel so special.” You said sardonically.
“I mean- I made you feel pretty special at the marine base didn’t I?” Buggy reminded you. It seemed like this was something that was constantly going to be held over your head.
“You’re fucking ridiculous…” You shook your head. You weren’t sure if you were willing to go through this humiliation anymore. You stood up, trying to get the point across.
“I mean- it is your choice.” Buggy hops off his large chair, taking steps towards you. He walked over to you like a dark cloud ready to engulf you in. “You could either leave and hold this embarrassment of sitting here on my floor begging for me or…” His gloved hand reached down to your chin gently as he lifted your head up to look him in the eye. “I can give you exactly what you’ve been apparently thinking about every single night.” His last words huffed out, mocking the desperation you obviously were in.
You fell for it almost immediately. Your legs grew weak, your chest rose up and down quicker and your body leaned into Buggy’s touch, so desperate for him to give you exactly what you were craving. You broke his gaze out of complete embarrassment of what you’ve become. You’ve never behaved this way towards any man. No one made you feel the way Buggy did.
Your eyes left his and to a bottle that he carried in his room. “Fine- but can I have a drink so I can at the very least?” You needed more courage. Something to break the persona you had going for you.
Buggy’s hand flew to the bottle that he watched your eyes revert to, grabbing it before landing it back in between the two of you. “If it makes you less of a prude, be my guest.” His lips curled into a smirk. His finger flung the cap off before handing it over to you. You took a heavy breath, preparing for the awful strong taste before taking a pretty hefty swig. You’ve gotten a lot more used to it due to your time at sea. But it never got easy or tasted good enough.
You took a few more, gagging at the taste before setting it down. “I’m not a fucking prude by the way. I just need some sense of dignity.” You insulted him.
“You lost that bit of dignity the moment you came in. here begging me to fuck you.” He pointed out. He grabbed the bottle before taking a drink out of it with no problem. Just another way Buggy wanted to show off to you. The bottle sat back down on the counter, Buggy turning right back to you. His hand laid on your lower back, pulling your body against his significantly larger one. Your eyes laid on him, taking in everything you found strangely beautiful about it like the day at the Marine base.
Buggy leaned forward, pressing rough kisses into the nap of your neck, biting down a few times. You wanted to protest in fear of having marks being left on you for your crew to see, but the euphoria from it left you speechless. Only a few murmurs and whimpers left your lips. Buggy held your body up, holding you close to him as his kisses peppered down your collarbone. A few gasps left your lips, his teeth sinking into your skin, growing hungrier the more noises you made.
“You really want me that badly?” his voice in a rough tone, undoing your shirt, eager to see you the way he did just a few weeks ago. He exposed you to himself, taking in the sight before toying with your breasts.
You couldn’t help but let out another small whimper, nodding to his question. “Nu-uh. Verbalize your words, darling.” His lips curled into a sinister grin.
“Fuck-“ You were finally able to mutter something out. “Yes- Yes Buggy, I want you. Really really bad.” You gave him what he wanted. You just knew this would boost his ego tremendously.
“You’re a lot more pathetic than I assumed you were.” He couldn’t help himself. You always kept such a hard cold exterior. No one knew the real new under the persona you played. Maybe it wasn’t even a persona. Who knew? But he was able to crack the persona and get such a new version of you. It was so easy to him. There was a bit of pushback, but he was able to see something about almost no one ever got to see.
His hands roamed down your body, pressing his lips across your neck and shoulder. He grabbed the skirt you had on, putting his hand underneath. His fingers grazed the outside of your underwear, laughing to himself. “And you’re already so soaked…” He continued to pester you. “On the floor.” He ordered. You nodded, taking a seat down in front of him, completely at his will. “You look so much prettier at this angle.” His fingers caressed your cheek.
You were so distracted, staring at him to realize his hand made its way back under your skirt. You felt a pressure press up against you, a moan escaping your lips. “So much prettier when you’re acting like a little whore like this.” Buggy’s gaze grew darker, thinking of sinister things to do to you. His fingers rubbed circles over your clit, growing faster and faster. Your whimpers and moans got louder.
His fingers moved your panties to the side, sliding two fingers into you. You gasped at the suddenness. His fingers pumped into you slowly at first but grew quicker over time. You gripped your thighs, letting moans slip through your lips.
You bucked your hips but felt the absence of his fingers. “You’re not cuming without me, sweetheart. You gotta work for it.” You sat up straighter, reaching for the waistband of his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang up, hard already from watching you squirm around under his touch.
Your hands wrapped around his shaft, pumping him before bringing the head of his cock into your mouth. Your lips wrapped around him, bobbing your head. You removed your hands the more of him you took into your mouth. Buggy’s lips faintly pulled apart as his breathing grew heavier, soft moans leaving his lips. “Look up at me.” He called out to you. You obeyed, your eyes meeting his. He admired you for a second before snapping back to before.
He grew hotter, pulling his shirt off, throwing it off somewhere in the room, fully exposing himself to you. His hand grabbed a fist full of your hair, pushing your head down quickly. You gagged against him, his cock hitting the back of your throat. He watched you struggle to breathe, tears forming at the corners of your eyes before finally pulling you back to get some air. He let you gain control once again. He threw his head back, letting a moan slip out his lips before staring down at you once again.
Your pace grew faster, trying to concentrate on making him feel as good as he made you feel. “You look so much better with my cock in your mouth, you know that?” he attempted to say through heavy breaths. He felt himself grow closer before pulling away from you. He pulled you up by your hair, dragging you as he did so.
You yelped, following his guide as he finally released your hair out of his grip. “Take it off… All of it.” He sat down at the edge of his bed, his eyes laid on your body.
“You are such a pervert, y’know that?” You said before pulling off your skirt painfully slowly in Buggy’s opinion. “I’m not the one sneaking onto ships for a late-night booty call, am I? I think the real pervert is you.”
He made a valid point that you couldn’t argue. You stripped for him, baring yourself completely for him. He had no words. Nothing snarky or petty. He just sat there and admired you. He didn’t get to actually stare as much as he wanted to at the Marine Base. This time he had a complete view of you. “On the bed. Now.”
You took soft, unrushed steps towards the bed. Buggy grew impatient, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto the bed. You felt his hand strike your cheek, holding it before it started to burn. “You’re gonna listen to everything I say tonight, got it?” He threatened before wrapping his hand around your throat. “Now, are you gonna be a stupid fucking whore or are you gonna be good?” he asked, warning you of your answer as his grasp tightened around your neck.
“Can’t I be both?” You answered sarcastically. Your air flow grew more restricted. Buggy’s jaw tightened as he gave you one last warning. “I don’t know. Do you want to be able to cum tonight? Or am I gonna have you all I want and send you fantasizing about me more?”
You took time to think, wanting to test the waters a bit more before feeling another strike hit your cheek. “Times clicking. Come on, even though I wish we did, we don’t have all night.” “Fine- I’ll try to be good..” You reluctantly replied. Buggy had no choice but to take that response. His lips crashed against yours, moving his grip from your throat back onto your hair. He tugged at it slightly. Your lips move in unison together.
Buggy’s lips moved down to your jaws, making his way down as he peppered kisses down your body.
His lips ended at your inner thighs. You squirmed, eager for him to touch you again. You whimpered, needing him to finally give you what you wanted.
“You’re such a pathetic whore.” He laughed lowly. His hand reached over, lets his fingers graze you slightly. You twitched, bucking your hips for more.
“Please-please just touch me…” You began begging. His painted lips grew into a mischievous smirk. He was enjoying every second of breaking you down completely at his whim.
“Say my name.” He knew it would only break you more.
You groaned at the request but gave in quickly. “Please Buggy- Please just fucking touch me. Fuck me. Just please.”
He obeyed your plea. His thumb pressed light pressure against your clit, rubbing small circles. You gripped onto his sheets, covering your face to muffle out your moans as you let out an ‘oh fuck.” Immediately after. Your cheeks flushed red. Buggy ripped the sheets away from you. “Nu-uh… you wanted this. No need to be so embarrassed now.” He had to have a humiliation kink. If you’d let him, you wouldn’t doubt that he would have you chained and forced to walk around him in public.
His head leaned closer to your cunt, finally letting his tongue glide across your folds. Your back arched, your breath growing uneasy. His tongue swiped up and down, finding the perfect pace. His movements grew fasters as his thumb left your clit, being replaced with his tongue. He sucked on your clit a few times, loving the reaction you gave him every time.
“Fuck me- please just fuck me. I want you in me right now.” You interrupted him. He pulled away quickly, hoping you’d ask even sooner.
“You’re such a greedy whore.” He lined himself up with you before pushing himself inside you. His moan syncing with yours. Your hand gripped onto his muscular lean arm, After pumping into you a few times, you adjusted to his size. He spent no time trying to get you to get used to him. His hips slammed against your ass furiously, leaving the room with nothing but the sound of skins slapping together and breathy whimpers and moans. He leaned forward, bringing your leg up to give him more access to you.
You both caught each other's gaze before Buggy pushed your head to the side, pressing it against the bed, using you as nothing but support as he used your body as his own personal sex toy. Something about it made it so much better to you. There was no passion. Just sex. You both were using each other and that’s exactly how you wanted it to remain. Just dirty, animalistic sex. His thrust grew faster causing you to buck your hips towards him. You needed him.
His hand moved away from your face, wrapping around your throat tightly. He squeezed your throat as he would whenever you two would get into small battles with each other. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. His other hand moved to the back of your head, moving it up roughly, forcing you to watch him fuck you. “You like watching yourself get fucked?” He hissed before striking you once more, moving his hand back to your throat.
“Yes- I love it.” You cried. Your moans grew out of sync and faster once you were about to hit your limit. You couldn’t hold out longer, cumming all over his cock as he continued to fuck you. Your cheek stung after his open hand swung across your cheek. His hand gripped your jaw, forcing your attention to him. “I didn’t tell you when you could cum, did I?” he sounded furious, slapping you again.
You shook your head. Tears began to leak down your face, ruining the makeup you had put on earlier in the day. Dark black streaks of make-up ran down your cheek. “You’re such a whore. You couldn’t wait, could you?” He berated you. You shook your head again. Buggy spit across your face, causing your makeup to run even more. “Just a little plaything for me to use.” Buggy continued.  
“I-I’m sorry…” You attempted to say. You were already reaching a second climax. “Please let me cum again…” You learned. He trained you to be exactly what he wanted.
“Not until I say you can.” Buggy gripped your hips, using them to move against him as he thrusted into you. As he got closer, his thrusts grew sloppier, mainly using his grip on you to bounce you against him. “Fuck-“ he muttered out of breath. He pulled out of you, jerking himself off over you. You propped yourself up with your elbows, sticking your tongue out. “You’re so fucking disgusting.” He laughed at you. He leaned in, spitting in your mouth before shoving two of his fingers deep down your throat before pulling them out to replace his cock. He laid the head of his cock against your tongue before letting his cum release onto your tongue and a bit of your face. He pulled away before getting off the bed. He kneeled down, grabbing your legs, pulling you forward. He dived back into your cunt, this time with a quicker pace. His fingers entered you, pumping into you. Before he knew it, you began begging for him to let you cum. And he granted you the right. You climaxed, cumming around his fingers. You were left completely sore.
“I need to take a fucking bath…” Realization hit you. Your face was covered in spit and cum and your body littered with not just your sweat, but Buggy’s as well.
“Ya it’s on the right.” Buggy pointed out the bathroom. He was a lot softer and sweeter than he was just a few minutes away. “Do you need a towel?” He asked, getting up to check on you. Mostly out of concern and some for other perverted reasons.
“Uh- I think I found them…” You mumbled. You entered Buggy’s bathroom, taken aback by the luxuries he apparently had on board. Makes sense for someone who was obsessed with themselves you guessed. You didn’t bother closing the door. You filled the tub up, putting soap in it before sliding into it. “You can watch… I know you really want to pervert.” You called out to him. “Already a step ahead of you.” He called back out, laying on his back, taking a peak at you from the comfort of his own bed.
You grabbed a wash rag, scrubbing your body down before washing your face off. You removed all the makeup you spent time putting on earlier today. You were never really comfortable with people seeing you without makeup. You weren’t too comfortable with people seeing you naked either. And Buggy has seen one of those already. So it seemed less of a big deal. You drained the bath, stepping out. You patted yourself dry before coming back to the bedroom in search of your clothes.
“Why don’t you spend the night?” Buggy proposed. 
“Why? So your crew could rob us?” You questioned.
“You can go check on my crew. Half of them are setting up for the show tomorrow or getting black out drunk tonight.” Buggy offered. You scoffed, continuing your search. “Please-.” You heard Buggy’s pleads. You sighed, looking him down before giving in.
“Fine… But this won’t ever happen again. Got it?” You warned. Just like you did at the Marine base.
“Fucking yea yea. Go on. You’re the leader here.” Buggy returned to his sarcastic self after making himself look like a complete fool. You didn’t bother looking for your clothes before sneaking into his bed. It was almost like getting onto a cloud. Either Buggy robbed some rich elite prick or Buggy dropped an obscene amount of berries for it. Judging by Buggy’s room and his clear taste for luxury, you already knew which one it was.
You rested your head onto one of his pillows, letting your body rest. You didn’t realize how tired you actually were. You felt an eeriness, turning your head to see Buggy examining you. “Please don’t mention it.” You begged.
“You’re a lot less intense without all of that on…” Buggy mentioned it.
You shielded your face, groaning from embarrassment. “We all have personas. You have your clown thing. I have my intense dark thing. Drop it. Please.” “I think it looks rather nice. Cuter. Less stabby.” Buggy tried to compliment and joke to ease your discomfort. You unshielded yourself, nodding and taking the compliment.
“Thank you Buggy.” You mumbled. Your body turned to him. Your eyes attempted to stay awake for his sake and for fear of him betraying you. “See. Adorable. Like a little rabbit.” Buggy chuckled. He cautiously scooted closer to you and rested his hand on your hip. His hand slowly stroked your hip, not able to keep his eyes off you. He leaned in to press a kiss over you before you pulled away. “I don’t think that’s a great idea. We’re not having sex. You don’t need to play house with me.” You warned. You didn’t want to break a boundary. It bruised Buggy’s ego, but he covered it quickly.
“No round 2? You’re right. I’m tired too.” He tried to quickly recover. You felt guilty, but it was too much intimacy.
A silence fell over the two of you as you laid there, attempting to sleep. The awkwardness keeping you both up. You broke the silence. “You can hold me if you want…” You whispered.
It was dark inside the room, allowing Buggy to truly express how he felt. His lips grew into a huge goofy smile before wrapping his arms around you reluctantly. But in reality, that’s all he wanted. “I get it. The dark can be scary.” Buggy mocked you.
“Shut up and go to sleep.” You retaliated.
You leaned into one another. Your head resting over his chest and his arms wrapped around your waist. Your hand rested on his toned arms. He rubbed circles into your hips, relaxing you. You both knocked out, wrapped around each other.
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You woke up early enough to make your escape unknown. You checked on Buggy to see if he was awake. Poor thing. You didn’t want to break his heart. You dressed yourself and gathered all your belongings.
Even the map to the grand line Buggy stole from you months ago. You vanished within thin air and escaped the boat. You woke your entire crew up, faking a story of a terrible encounter with Buggy. Thankfully you had enough time to cover your marks up, leaving a few to make the fight look believable. Your legs were littered with bruises. Your arm had a few scratches, and your chest had a few scattered around.
And there. You left port for a new island to hide out to.
Notes: This fan fic really represents how i've felt after realizing i was attracted to a clown rather than a normal character in the show
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uh-oh-its-bird · 7 days
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Fuck ok, gather 'round it's time for another fic idea spinning off of a crumb from my last post ab time traveling team Ro into founders era:
Summary:
Fact 1; Kakashi is now 3 weeks the last living Hatake.
Fact 2; Tobirama Senju, according to dusty old scrolls Kakashi finds in his father's study, was apparently half Hatake himself.
Lonley and hurting, Kakashi grabs on to this fact with both hands and squeezes it so tight to his aching heart that his hands bleed.
Or, still processing his father's suicide, Konoha's favorite baby genius finds out he's distantly related to history's favorite baby genius and immediatly starts projecting to cope.
Digging through old journals, history books, Kakashi begins to try his own hand at the man's favorite past time; creating jutsu's. It's the both the hardest thing he's ever done and the most satisfying to date.
Ft.
1) Weirdly chill scene with Danzo (fuck that guy but hear me out) where he kinda looks at Kakashi and sees the hint of the shadow of the man who taught him. Not quite there yet, not fully, but crumbs of it. Enough to make him nostalgic, and enough to hand over an old journal that used to belong to Tobirama.
A calculated risk, he tells himself.
An unspoken challenge, both Danzo and Kakashi understand.
He wants to see how far Kakashi can go, finds himself almost eager to see how close he can come to the shadow of the man he seems so determined to chase.
(and if this side project temporarily distracts him for long enough that Orochimaru slips through his fingers, well, it's not like he knows it was this event specifically that caused that plan to fall through)
2) The fact that, both due to time and the Hatake clan's less than stellar reputation during the warring states era, Tobirama's Hatake ancestry got buried. Kakashi finding him on a dusty old family tree has ✨️political implications✨️ for Kakashi specifically. Ones he isn't all too interested in — unless it means he might be able to access things he otherwise wouldn't've.
Also just general fun surprised Pikachu faces from some people as an added bonus.
3) Kakashi becoming even more terrifying than he rightfully should be at that age !! Danzo pretty much handed him a missile and went "lmao good luck" with that journal! He should not have that! He's learning things! He is experimenting! Someone take the missile away from the baby before he learns how to make his own— oh fuck it's too late hes somehow made a nuke instead
4) Orochimaru poking Kakashi with a stick and vice versa. They are making baby genius <--> baby genius eye contact it's mildly concerning, Minato is concerned. Obito is jealous, he wishes the Snake Sannin would poke HIM with a stick
5) Kakashi bites someone. That's it that's the bullet point I just think he should get to bite someone is all.
And more !!! Im ngl I think I like Tobirama just existing in the fic as as an ever present shadow, super influential in just every single chapter but never actually present. But I won't lie if I'm giggling over the thought of Kakashi finding Edo Tensei and going ".... ok but what better way to figure out this new jutsu / seal than to ask the source directly."
Orochimaru would so help he's having too much fun with this to bother experimenting on children for Danzo. Don't talk to him rn he's having fun with corpses!! No not the corpses you asked him to have fun with, the other ones!
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user1286 · 1 year
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N no i dont think You Guys know how insane I’m going over the relationship of Magni Modi and Thrud. L like… i… I CANT STOP THINKING ABT THEM HHHH JUST ENDLESS AMOUNTS OF BRAINROT.
My specific obsession for the last week has been Magni and Thrud’s relationship, and I fucking love the idea of Magni being willing to die for his baby sister 🥹…
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OR EVEN BETTER JSJDKSJDKS
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I have an idea that Sif and Thor were still furious alcoholics even in Thrud’s childhood except they didn’t abuse her, but instead neglected her, forcing Magni and Modi to take care of her whenever Sif and Thor were on a hangover. Which was almost all the time. Until Thrud got older.
Magni, being the oldest sibling felt the most obligated to protect Thrud seeing how tiny and defenseless she was as just a babe in his massive hand. So what im basically trying to say, is uhhh, Magni essentially acted almost like a third parent for Thrud until she grew more capable of taking care of herself. He rlly loves and cares for his family, but sucks ass at showing it. He ends up with toxic love languages and toxic tendencies he would feel are the norm for him and whatever specific family member is in front of him. BUT due to there practically being nothing in the way of his relationship with Thrud, their relationship is one of the most important things to him, so if Thrud even gets upset with him, Magni gets a bit… nervous in his own ways.
The whole love thing also applies to Modi, but a bit different due to a… specific incident between the two (hint hint: the end of their boss fight in gow 2018) but that’s being dived into later on in my fic >:3
Btw new chapter coming soon, it’s gonna be a 2 parter bc damn is this thing (not rlly long, but instead) in desperate need of careful thinking through, shits abt to go down in the second part heheheh >:D
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archie-sunshine · 3 months
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ARCHIE'S CAPTAINS (B)LOG (Jan 31st '24)
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FIRST THING'S FIRST!! Some good news(at least for all you Rung fans out there) is that RUNG IS OFFICIALLY THE WINNER OF THE SURVEY SAYS CHAPTER SEVEN FIC POLL!! Woooo yay!! everyone give him a hand folks.
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The next chapter will feature rung, as well as the kinks dacryphilia and praise!
In slightly less than good news, I'm semi-officially halfway dropping out of college. I'm gonna take the rest of this semester off to check out some elective courses because my current major is kinda sucking the life out of me and making me sad, and i'll take a stab at something new next semester.
All of this to say I'm going to be very active on here in the coming months.
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That aside though, I'm also posting this as a WARNING that THE ASKBOX IS VERY FULL!!! And so, it is with a heavy heart that I will be deleting a load of questions in my askbox to make room for new ones that I feel I have not missed the boat on. I'll be purging as much as I can in the next few days via both sketches and straight up deletion, so around february 2nd, if you have an ask thats purged(likely anything older than a week or so ago) you may have to ask again later.
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SOME FAQ'S CURRENTLY IN MY INBOX THAT I WILL BE ADDRESSING IN A BIG POST EVENTUALLY I PROMISE: '*something something* ARCHIE WHAT DO YOU THINK OF SIMPATICO??'
'any more headcanons for swerve?'
'MORE HYPNOSIS PLEASE!!'
Do not worry, you will get your swervies and simpaticos and hypnosies if you're good just be patient with me!!!
FINALLY! I JUST REALIZED IM ALMOST AT 1000 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR????? HOLY FUCK!! So even though I'm way way way too open about myself and my life, I'm thinking I might do a 1000 followers Chat with the Artist Q&A!!! Thanks so much for all your support!!
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All that aside, thanks so much for following and joining me for another captain's (b)log!! Here's to another 2 months of horny robot nonsense!!
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mariaofdoranelle · 10 months
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Look at Us Now — Ch. 9
Fic masterlist
Look who’s back three days late! Thank y’all for your patience, I promise we’ll get back to our usual schedule this Thursday ❤️
I’m using @autumnbabylon’s prompt, and I’d also like to thank @renxzs for helping me with a few chapter titles (my translation was a huge mess)
Warnings: language, Fenrys (he’s on fire today)
Words: 5,7k (I’m never beating the irregular chapters allegations)
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Rowan hovered the spoon with chili sauce over the freshly-cut mangos as he wondered if he should pour it or not. Maybe he could put the sauce in a separate container, in case she reconsiders.
One month and a half being in charge of Aelin’s food wasn’t enough to prepare him for some of her cravings. This morning, she texted him asking for hot chili sauce along with her mango, and an onion.
He was still hoping she requested the onion because Aedion’s house ran out of ingredients.
His phone pinged on the counter.
Aelin: where r u
Aelin: im abt to climb on a tree and pick some rose apples
Snorting, he thought about how she made Aedion do that last week. It was June, which meant the Rose Apple trees spread across their military housing complex were bearing fruit, its smell enticing pregnant women’s senses.
Rowan: I’ll be right there.
One quick look at the clock made him rush the lunch boxes into the huge thermal bags. Every day, he prepped several meals and snacks for Aelin to eat throughout the day. Rowan only let her run out of full lunch boxes once, and her reaction was enough so he’d never let that happen again.
Earlier today, Aelin texted him a very cryptic message telling him to meet her at another address, a short walk from his place. Before leaving his house, Rowan didn’t recognize the pair of fancy sneakers beside Fenrys’ at the front door. At least they were quiet last night. He couldn’t think about that right now, Aelin was waiting for him.
Despite his current unease, the sound of children playing at the playground in front of his house made him smile. It was usual for a Saturday morning, and Rowan never gave much thought to it until he realized one day he’d have a little one squealing there too. The reminder sent a soft smile to his lips, feeling the kind of warmth he knew wasn’t due to Doranelle’s sun burning his skin.
Which led him back to Fenrys. Rowan never minded his friend’s parade of one-night stands, but he couldn’t think of raising a kid in this kind of environment. He noticed Aelin’s car parked in front of a white, bare house. He’d have to figure out this thing about Fenrys later.
The front door was open. Rowan knocked on the door, hovering over the threshold until he heard Aelin’s voice telling him to come in. This house has the same layout as his, but it was completely bare. No lighting, no furniture, just the smell of dust.
He found Aelin in the kitchen. Standing on a ladder, its hinges squeaked while she changed a light bulb. Rowan’s heart almost jumped out of his throat as he rushed her way. Careful enough to not startle her, he picked her up by the hips and placed her on the floor, not caring about her squeal of protest.
Aelin rubbed the area below her belly. “You can’t press over a pregnant woman’s bladder. It’s rude.”
“What the fuck were you doing?” Rowan had both hands on her shoulders, his breathing still fast.
“Changing the light bulb.” Aelin took a step back and opened her arms, grinning. “Welcome to my new house.”
“Huh.” Rowan looked around, taking in… nothing. The house had nothing. “When do you plan to move in?”
“I just did.”
Rowan’s eyes widened. “You did not.”
Aelin took him by the hand and started showing her arrangements. “I stole Aedion’s cooler and one old microwave Uncle Orlon had.” She led him to the master bathroom and showed one mattress and a suitcase on the floor. “I’ll sleep here until my furniture arrives next week. I bought it all online.”
Horrified, Rowan slowly shook his head. “You’re not.”
“What?”
“Does Aedion know about this?”
She crossed her arms. “Why’s that important?”
“Aelin…” Rowan looked around, taking all the nothingness of the house in. “You’re not sleeping here. I can’t see one good reason for you to.”
She was glaring at him with a high chin, looking defiant from head to toe. Rowan had been doing everything he could to keep the easy friendship they built in the past weeks, but he couldn’t put his foot down on this.
“Well, it’s my house, and sleeping here won’t affect the baby, so you don’t get to say a word about it.” A pause. “Neither does Aedion, because if I look at him one more time, I swear to Mala, Rowan, I’m going to flip the fuck out.”
He flexed his jaw. “What did he do?”
“Everything!” Aelin flailed her arms around and started pacing around the room. “He’s so annoying! He making jokes about my cravings, and then he goes and steals a bite of my food, and then keeps suggesting ridiculous baby names.” She was finger-counting her cousin’s shenanigans, face reddening with each example of his teasing. “A few days ago, he said—“ Aelin stopped speaking to take a deep breath and look up, but her eyes were already wet. “He told me to name our daughter Wiggly Jiggly!” Her lips wobbled, and she looked away, hiding her teary face. “That’s such a horrible name.”
Oh, fuck. This wasn’t the first outburst of pregnancy hormones he witnessed, and Rowan was sure he’d never be ready for them.
He sat on the mattress and patted the spot beside him. “C’mere.”
Aelin obliged, laying down with her head on his lap, facing away from him. He just caressed her hair and let her be, knowing very well she didn’t like to cry in front of people, even if she couldn’t help it.
“For what it’s worth, I’d never let our daughter’s name be Wiggly Jiggly.”
She groaned. “You find this funny?”
“No,” he lied. It seemed to be all good-natured cousin teasing, but Rowan did a mental note to ask Aedion to tone down the name suggestions.
“Did I tell you he ate half of my mango yesterday?”
“That’s terrible.”
“He apologized when I started crying, but I haven't forgiven him yet. The apology mango he gave me wasn’t as juicy.”
Rowan snorted. “I have a very good mango supplier.”
She sniffed. “I know you do.”
Aelin’s puffy red nose was so adorable Rowan loved and hated it at the same time. He wanted to peck it with kisses because of how cute she looked, and then completely crush and destroy whatever threat made her cry.
“I have an idea.”
Aelin made a sound that was somewhere a hum and a purr. She was no better than a house cat when he ran his fingers through her hair like this.
“If you don’t want to live with Aedion anymore.” He trailed, pondering his words. “You can stay with me. Just until your house is ready,” Rowan quickly added the last part, before she could protest.
Aelin turned her body so she could lie facing him. Her eyes scanned his face, reading how much he meant it. “I don’t know…”
“I have a very comfortable guest room, but you can take mine if you want. Or my roommate’s, I can kick him out.” Aelin chuckled, eyes blissfully closed as he caressed her scalp. Rowan continued, “You can take a nap there, and when you wake up, we can discuss it over freshly baked cookies.”
Her lips morphed into a teasing smirk. “You’ve always been good at dirty talk, Ro.”
It should be illegal, the heat that flooded over Rowan’s body. Especially when they agreed their affair was over. Whenever he looked, scrambling his mind for a decent thought, his brain conjured the memory of Aelin’s flushed face and aroused looks.
He cleared his throat. “Is that a yes?”
“Let’s see how soft your bed is, Lieutenant.”
For Mala’s sake. Rowan let out a string of curses inside his head as he forced his gaze on the ceiling. She had to be doing this on purpose. Which reminded of the other menace he had to deal with.
Rowan: You have 3 minutes to get rid of your boy toy.
Fenrys: how do you know it’s a boy?
Rowan: The sneakers
He helped Aelin get up from the mattress, which was another reason she shouldn’t sleep here. It would kill her with back pain, considering her bump was bigger each day. He opened the chat again.
Rowan: Aelin may or may not spend the next few weeks in our place
Fenrys: nice
Fenrys: does it mean you’ll cook for me too?
Rowan: I already cook for you.
Fenrys: i know
Fenrys: but the pregnant lady stole my chef
When he rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone, Aelin was carefully studying him.
“I was letting Fenrys know you’re coming over.
“For the nap, right?”
He didn’t answer.
Aelin slowly shook her head. “I’m going to disturb your routine.”
Rowan squeezed her hand. “I don’t mind.”
“You’re being a big Buzzard right now, did you know that?”
Rowan tilted his head. “A what?”
Aelin tried to portray a serious look, but she was clamping her lips together, trying not to laugh. “A Buzzard. Because you’re hovering.”
After that, Rowan offered to drive her to his place, but Aelin refused, saying she was pregnant, not disabled. His only response was to chuckle and stay close to her during their short walk, in case she tripped or felt ill.
Rowan didn’t mind being called a Buzzard, as long as she didn’t mind that he acted like one.
˜˜
As much as Maisie deserved the best of the best on her birthday, Rowan felt like this outrageously expensive condensed milk was laughing at his face. He didn’t even pay for it, his parents did, but it was a matter of principles.
From the other side of the kitchen counter, Rory barely acknowledged her son’s distressed state. “Being cheap doesn’t look cute, Rowan.”
“Cheap?” His voice came out a pitch higher than he intended. “I’m not cheap, I just do a cost-benefit analysis before buying something, and it still ends up being expensive. But your groceries weren’t expensive, they were outrageous.”
Rory pointed a finger at her son. “Your job is to parent Maisie and teach her to be responsible.” She pointed at herself. “My job is to spoil her rotten, and that includes baking her overpriced cakes.”
“And giving overpriced gifts,” Rowan murmured to himself while organizing his shelf.
“You’re still bitter about that?”
Rowan looked at his mom dead in the eye. “You could’ve bought her a toy. You could’ve bought her a princess costume.” A dramatic pause. “You bought her an acoustic drum set.”
“It was your dad’s idea.” Rory beamed. “She’ll love it.”
“I will never know peace again.”
“Is Sellene coming tomorrow?” His mother asked, changing the subject.
Rowan resumed putting groceries away. “Just for Skull’s Bay on Saturday.”
After tomorrow morning’s surprise, Maisie had something with Aelin at Orlon’s, and on the weekend they’d go to the pirate-themed restaurant every kid in Doranelle City loved.
“It’ll be just us and Aelin, then?”
“Just us.”
“And Aelin?”
Rowan gave her a hard look, and his mother’s shoulders dropped.
“I thought things were better between the two of you.”
He ran a hand through his hair as if it’s take the frustration out of his mind. Yes, they were communicating better. It only erased one of the problems they had. And to be fair, it’s much easier to look Aelin in the face when she’s shooting daggers at him than when she’s smiling because of something their daughter did. It made him feel more at ease with his choices.
“We’re fighting less, yes, but that doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
“You’re not friends yet, that’s alright. But is the birthday yours or Maisie’s?”
“What do you mean?”
“Because you just told me you didn’t invite Aelin because she’s not your friend, but this is not your party. She’s Maisie’s mom, Rowan, it doesn’t matter if you’re friends or not.”
“Well, Aelin’s throwing another party in the evening and didn’t invite me either.”
Rory shrugged. “I don’t care about the guest list for her party. In my parties, Aelin will always be a guest.”
He raised both eyebrows. “Your party?”
It was Maisie’s party at Rowan’s house.
“I’m making the food, which means I have a say about who gets invited.”
It didn’t, but his mother was impossible to argue with.
“Fine. I’ll text her when I’m done here.”
Rowan didn’t even mind Aelin’s presence there, it was just how they operated since last year. But they were better, and maybe he should have more initiative. Rowan scrubbed the flour container clean a lot more than he needed, thinking about this over and over.
“You know how I feel about this, son.” his mother turned to him from the other side of the kitchen.
His shoulders went rigid. “I know, could you not—“
“You should’ve married her.”
Rowan spilled flour all over the counter while opening the sack.
It wasn’t the first time his mother expressed her feelings about this, but they got fewer and far between as time passed. Going from encouraging him to propose while Aelin was pregnant to… this.
“We’re seeing a therapist after years apart. Can you imagine the shitshow we’d be if we were actually together?”
His mom had to understand this. If Rowan had been telling this to himself so much he had the words memorized, it had to make sense.
She didn’t seem to, though. “Every couple has fights, Rowan. It just needs to balance out with how much sex—“
Grimacing, he felt his upper arms quiver. “Could you not?”
”Alright.” Rory sighed. “I’m just saying you chose to have just the bad end of the deal. Apart from Maisie, that is.”
Fed up with this conversation, Rowan felt his pulse faster each second. He identified the anger he was feeling and repeated to himself that he would not snap at his mother over and over as he slowly wiped his hands on a cloth.
“I know you mean well, but I don’t like it when you tell me what I should’ve done,” Rowan explained in a carefully controlled tone. At that point, he had all of Yrene’s pdfs memorized. “It makes me feel…”
“You can talk to me,” Rory insisted when silence stretched, lips pursed as she looked too concerned for his liking. “How does that make you feel?”
Resentful. Frustrated. Hurt. There was no point in admitting that, though. The worst part is that no matter how much Rowan forced his face to look neutral, his mother still read him like a book. He drew out a long breath. “I need to pick Maisie up from school.”
The kitchen couldn’t be more silent after that.
˜˜
Turns out shoving his feelings down his throat was just what Rowan needed to go on with his day. His phone pinged around an hour past Maisie’s bedtime, and he already knew who it was.
Aelin: she’s still up??
Rowan: She’s too excited
Rowan: The first party I’ll be throwing for myself, *if* she falls asleep.
Aelin: lol lmk when i can come
Since they planned two separate celebrations before inviting each other, Maisie was now having two parties on the same day with both parents.
A small smile made its way into Rowan’s lips as he watched Maisie babbling in her kitten pajamas about her birthday tomorrow. She barely noticed he was using his phone, and if his little girl even suspected what was happening soon, her chances of falling asleep would be ruined.
Rowan: You don’t need to, I’ve got this
Aelin: stop fussing
Aelin: and text me when she’s out
“…I also like my birthday because I don’t have to brush teeth.”
Rowan crossed his arms. “Who told you that?”
“Mommy!” Maisie’s voice was more high-pitched than normal, and she looked a little too eager for his response, wearing a maniac smile. His daughter was such a bad liar, and Rowan hoped that never changed. At least not before teen years. She tapped the side of her head. “I have it in my rememberys.”
Rowan felt the warmth in his chest and refused to correct this mispronunciation. They got rarer each year, and he was enjoying the remains of this phase before it stayed just in his rememberys.
“Come on, Mais.” He kissed her forehead. “The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner your birthday will be here.”
She didn’t only close her eyes, but squished her eyelids together as if it’d make her fall asleep faster. “Maybe I can turn 7 and not 5 when I wake up.”
Rowan snorted. “That’s not how birthdays work.”
“But I want to be older than Charlie!”
After a lot of wrangling and lavender sleep spray on her pillow and reading books about hippos and answering that no, tomorrow isn’t Mrs. Hippo’s birthday as well, Maisie’s tiredness finally overthrew her birthday euphoria.
Rowan: She’s asleep.
Aelin: k. i’ll be there in 5
As carefully as he could, he removed himself from Maisie’s strong hold and went to the guest bedroom.
Rowan knocked on the door, even if it was open. “Everything alright there? She’s asleep.”
His parents let out a collective sigh, as if they were the ones fighting Maisie’s frenzy with their lives.
“Finally!” Rory whisper-yelled while getting up from the bed. She tapped on Rowan’s shoulders at the threshold. ”Time to do some baking.”
As loud as his mother could be sometimes, at least she understood that this preparation needed to be as silent as possible. If his daughter wakes up and sees what they’re up to… for Mala’s sake, he doesn't even want to think about it.
Crouching, his dad dragged a huge suitcase from under the bed and opened to reveal the new bane of Rowan’s existence.
Maisie’s acoustic drum set.
Rowan’s eyes widened. “Buying her drums wasn’t enough, you got one kit so big it needed its own suitcase.”
His dad was smiling so much at that thing it showed off every crinkle around his eyes. ”Nothing more than what our Maisy Daisy deserves. And it’s pink!”
Rowan crossed his arms, feeling a little torn. As much as he hated the idea of leaving a very active kid with the loudest, messiest musical instrument of them all, it could be overwhelming when his parents and Maisie were together. Rory and Owen were the kind of doting grandparents Maisie deserves, and it warmed his heart to see how much his little girl was loved.
A notification from his phone snapped Rowan out of his thoughts.
Aelin: where r u??????
He frowned at his phone, confused.
Rowan: At home?
Aelin: GREAT. could you pls answer the front door????
Cursing under his breath, he quickly dismissed himself to get the door.
“Don’t worry about me, son! Sellene sent the link on how to assemble this.”
“Of course she did,” Rowan called over his shoulder from the hall.
Rowan’s heartbeat was a little quicker than he intended while fumbling with the door handle. He didn’t want to upset Aelin tonight, but
“Gods, Rowan, I was knocking for ages!”
“Sorry,” he apologized, but then frowned. “Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?”
Aelin crossed her arms. “And wake up Maisie?”
He grimaced. Their daughter didn’t wake up that easily, but he was actually glad she didn’t take the risk.
“Sorry.” He scratched the back of his head. “Mom’s cooking, Dad’s assembling her drums, I’ll do the decoration.”
She blinked, eyes widened. “I’m sorry, drums?”
“Yes.” Rowan mimicked playing with drumsticks with the dullest face possible, to portray how unhappy he was with it. “Drums.”
“Dear Mala, this—“ Aelin cackled into her palm, shoulders trembling as she tried not to be loud. “You are so fucked,” she wheezed.
He squinted his eyes at her amusement, arms crossed. “Are you done?”
Of course she’d find this funny. The drum set was too big to fit into Maisie’s backpack when Rowan dropped her off at Aelin’s house.
“Alright, alright.” She raised both hands in surrender. “I can’t cook, and I’m not a percussion girlie. What do we’ve got?”
She was carefully silent the whole time Rowan showed his decoration plans.
“You got…” Aelin wrinkled her nose. ”Orange, pink, red and green balloons?”
“Maisie likes those colors!”
“But this is a terrible palette!” She complained, waving a hand at the packs of balloons displayed on the table, but then something about his face made her stop. “As much as I appreciate your efforts, I…” from Aelin’s furrowed brows, Rowan knew she was trying to mentally fit her unkind words into Yrene’s Guide On How To Communicate With Kindness. “I’m not a fan of the color scheme you chose. I think we can do better for Maisie.”
“Alright.” Rowan’s posture relaxed. “I’m listening.”
Rowan still didn’t know how to feel about this new technique. They were always saying how much they acknowledged each other’s efforts and feelings and respectfully disagreed. Sometimes, it made his interactions with Aelin feel too robotic, unnatural. It gave him a weird hollow feeling to see the two of them like this, but it was for the best. They were doing the best they could for Maisie.
After some explanations Rowan didn’t pay much attention to, Aelin decided the pink and orange balloons went better with the number 5 rose gold balloon he bought, and it was settled.
She rubbed her hands together. “Where’s the balloon thingy?”
“The what?”
Aelin gestured with her hands, but he could only understand a small, squared shape. “That thing we use to fill the balloons.”
Rowan tilted his head. “Our lungs?”
“Boo! Boring!” Aelin protested, but she was smirking at him.
He sat on the couch with the pink pack of balloons and tossed the orange one at her. “Come on, I’d like to get more than three hours of sleep tonight.”
They fell into a comfortable silence after that, lungs too busy to speak, being interrupted only when Aelin groaned about the smell of food coming from the kitchen.
Her eyes were full of mischief. “Do you think your mom will let me take a bite?”
“Only after Maisie wakes up,” his mom warned from the kitchen’s threshold, pointing between the two of them with a dirty whisk. Then she aimed a soft grin at Aelin. “But I’m making those chocolate hazelnut cookies.”
She sagged back on the couch, eyes closed while wearing a small, blissful smile. “Your mom is the best.”
“Thanks, darlin’!” Rory called from the kitchen.
Aelin chuckled and turned to him. “Shall we get the tape?”
Rowan shook his head. “Nope, it’ll ruin the walls.”
“Really?” She had her arms crossed and brows raised. “Are you worried it’ll ruin Maisie’s drawings? Because it doesn’t look like you care about the paint.”
Completely ignoring Aelin’s taunt, he kneeled in front of her and tapped his shoulder. “Hop on.”
Aelin narrowed her eyes at him, but he didn’t miss the way the corner of her lip twitched. “This is terrible for your back.”
“You think I can’t take you?” Rowan wore a playful smile while watching Aelin’s blood rush into her cheeks. “Be careful, you’re about to bruise a man’s ego.”
Resigned, she carefully sat on his shoulders, cursing under her breath when he got up. When Aelin grabbed a fistful of his hair to support herself, Rowan’s body immediately tingled. It brought him back to another time when she’d yank his hair the same way, but he was quick to shrug it off. His memories were a menace.
“Okay…” holding Aelin’s legs, he kicked a balloon up and she caught it with the hand that wasn’t holding his hair. “Now rub it in my hair and put it on the ceiling.”
She was quiet for a second. “You want me to do what?”
He squeezed her calf for reassurance, since they couldn’t see each other’s faces. “I need you to make the balloon electrostatically charged enough to stick it to the ceiling.”
“And that’s better than tape?” He couldn’t see her face, but she didn’t sound happy.
“For Mala’s sake, Aelin, I’m an engineer! Just rub the damn thing in my hair.”
She kicked his torso with the heel of her foot. “Where are the manners Yrene taught you?”
“His mother too!” Rory called from the kitchen.
Rowan closed his eyes for a second, embracing his defeat. He was helpless when the women in his family ganged up on him. “Please.”
“Here we go.” Aelin did as he asked, and let out a squeal of delight when the balloon adhered to the ceiling. “It worked!”
“It had to. It’s a law of physics.”
She playfully kicked him again. “Killjoy.”
This was nice. The weight of Aelin on his shoulders didn’t even cause an itch, maybe because Rowan felt so much lighter right now he didn’t even notice the extra weight on his back. Just like he didn’t notice time running, only realizing how late it was when his parents went to the living room to say goodbye.
After they finished decorating the ceiling, Aelin started on the wall while he rested on the couch for a few minutes. As much as the orthopedist beside him disagreed, there’s no running from back pain after 30. In fact, at this point in his life, if Rowan didn’t wake up in some sort of physical pain, that’d probably mean he’s dead.
“What’re you doing?” He asked her as she grabbed the pack of green balloons, after they made a half-wall of pink flowers.
She filled a small one and placed it on the corner of one balloon flower. “A leaf! You wanted more green.”
That gave him a faint, very tired smile. Rowan barely remembered their disagreement earlier about which colors they were using, but apparently she did.
She sat on the couch next to him after adding a few more leaves to the flower wall. “I can help you with your old man's back pain if you keep teaching me cool Physics tricks. How about that?”
He snorted. “That’s basic high school Physics.”
Aelin rolled her eyes. “Of course you were the nerd.”
“And you weren’t?”
“Nope. Too cool for that.“ Aelin tried to conceal a distant look on her face as she reminisced, ”I was hot and depressed. Had bigger things going on than physics.”
Rowan stared at her, wide-eyed. “How did you get into med school without studying?”
She shrugged. “I guess I’m just that awesome.”
The TV’s remote control was right by her side, so Aelin turned it on Netflix. He didn’t feel like watching TV yet, though. Rowan didn’t miss the part about her being depressed during her teenage years, especially how she tried to laugh it off. The same way she downplayed her going to therapy weeks ago.
“So…” Rowan cleared his throat. “How are you now? With the… Yrene stuff.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “We’re doing better, right? At least that’s the impression I got from the last few weeks.”
Now that he was paying more attention, he realized Aelin sometimes talked about family while answering his questions about her. Rowan didn’t know if this was intentional, so he didn’t pressure her to correct her answer, but he didn’t like it either.
“I think so too.”
“And now that we don’t fight as much and I don’t spend half of my time being angry at you, I realized I have all this energy I can focus on something else.”
“Like what?”
He glanced at Aelin from the corner of his eye. She looked calm, relaxed. Maybe she didn’t lie to him about the reason she was seeing a therapist. Maybe Rowan was just being a worrywart and worrying about things he shouldn’t.
“I’m reading more, but sometimes I think about getting back into playing the piano too.” She paused, biting the inside of her cheek. “And sometimes I think maybe Maisie could use some siblings.”
“You’re pregnant?” Rowan blurted, completely ruining the mood they were in.
“What?” She jerked at the couch, staring at him. “Why would you think that?”
“You just brought babies up!”
Why in hell was Rowan’s heartbeat so fast?
“Gods, no.” She sighed, relaxing again. “I just get pensive around Maisie’s birthdays, that’s all.”
That definitely wasn’t all. Considering having more kids just because one turned five isn’t a thing. Rowan felt his chest burn and tighten. It felt wrong to have his family fixed just so she could finally grow another, but maybe not in Aelin’s head. Maybe he was naive to think just him and Maisie would be enough for her.
Sensing something was wrong with him, she pressed play on a half-watched show on his TV. Good. His eyelids were starting to drop, but he was a trained military man. He could survive under the hardest conditions, especially exhaustion.
˜˜
Rowan woke up with Fenrys Moonbeam slapping the side of his head. He was laying on the couch with his legs intertwined with Aelin’s, who apparently fell asleep with her head on the other end.
Turns out his friend crashed into his daughter’s birthday breakfast because he assumed there’d be food, but everyone just shrugged it off as Fenrys being Fenrys and went on with the party.
As predicted, Maisie was a little bubble of excitement. Rowan had no idea what kind of bribery his parents would do to take her to school after that, or why they insisted on doing it in the first place.
It was all nice and easy, but the second Fenrys got him alone in the car, the questions started.
“Did a bug bite your ass on that old couch?”
Rowan had his eyes narrowed at his friend. “What do you mean?”
“You’re too stiff for your daughter’s birthday. Spill.”
He grimaced, hoping Maisie didn’t notice that. There was one thing going on inside his head today, but Rowan decided to give Fenrys some other answer. “Did you see my parent’s present? I’ll never enjoy silence again.”
Fenrys clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he turned off the radio. “When Maisie pisses you off by being a little hellion, you do that thing where you’re making pissy faces while trying not to smile. Now you’re just full pissy.”
Rowan’s shoulders slumped, and she ignored the hollowness inside his chest as he recalled part of his conversation with Aelin last night. He was probably going to regret sharing this, but it was done now.
“She definitely wasn’t just thinking about it. She’s on the hunt.”
Rowan tilted his head. “The hunt?”
“Listen, man, Aelin’s different. The way she’s lighter when she talks, you can’t fake that shit.” Fenrys was counting on his fingers with one hand the same way they’d do on a mission, before becoming drill instructors. “She’s happier. Each year, her ovaries only get closer to the shrinking age or whatever. She’s on the hunt. She wants Mr. Right, and she wants him now.”
Rowan faked a bored look now that his friend could look at him during the red light. “Go on. Without the ovaries part, please.”
It was so frustrating how easily he engaged in Fenrys’ nonsense. But if he did, it must hold some truth, right?
“We need to avoid The Sam Mess from happening again.” Fenrys’ voice was so serious Rowan could barely believe it came out of his friend’s mouth.
He rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t a mess. She didn’t- green light!” Rowan winced when the car harshly took off. There was a reason he didn’t let Maisie drive with Uncle Fen. “Aelin didn’t tell me about him, probably to avoid said mess.”
“Nope, I’m talking about you. You were a mess.”
“What’s your point?” Rowan was definitely going to snap at Fenrys if he mentioned Lieutenant Cortland again.
“My point?” His friend raised his hand in surrender and Rowan gripped the steering wheel to save them from a car crash. Fenrys immediately got back to it, cursing. “My point is to save my best friend from endless heartbreak.”
“Not an endless heartbreak, that ship sailed years ago.” A pause. Fuck, he was too curious to shut Fenrys out now. “But what do you mean?”
“It’s a complicated plan with many, many steps.” His friend gave him a look as if daring Rowan to disagree or find it funny. “But when the time comes, you’ll need to be fucking someone hotter than her.”
Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. Like it was an easy task.
Over the years, he had a few flings. Real flings, not the kind where people move in and have children together, since Aelin insists on labeling what they had like this. But these affairs happened sporadically, and Rowan never considered turning any of them into something serious.
Showing up with some arm candy out of the blue just to spite Aelin sounded petty and desperate. There was no way Fenrys was talking him into it.
His friend continued, “Being hotter than her next boyfriend works too, but that’s harder to control.”
“You know, I’m almost regretting telling you this.“
“You have an advantage over Aelin—“
“If you’re trying to suggest I’m near as good-looking or interesting as her—“
“Not that.” Fenrys gave him a quick apologetic look. “But you’re a dude. Dudes are like taxi drivers.”
Rowan rolled his eyes. “Not one of your theories again.”
“Not mine. Sex and the City’s.” Fenrys raised a finger without taking his hands off the steering wheel. “We see someone there who looks like they won’t kill us, and they hop in. That’s how dudes work. Have you ever put your love life on hold because you were hoping to get the right person?”
Rowan refused to answer this question. “This is so sexist I can barely believe it’s coming out of a queer person’s mouth.”
“It’s Sex and the City wisdom, man. Those four chicks just know things.”
“So, basically…” Rowan sighed, weighing the absurdity of it all. “You’re telling me that being a slut will make me feel better about Aelin looking for a new family.”
“That’s the quick fix, yes. You should really talk to Lorcan too, though.” Fenrys glanced at him, smirking like the devil. “But in the meanwhile, I can even help you with a Tinder profile.”
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gretavangroupie · 1 year
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Bloom
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18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI!!
Warnings: None for now ;)
Chapter One
“She blooms wild and burns bright” - Butterflies Rising
Chapter Two
It had officially been three weeks since you moved to Nashville. Your best friend Amelia had finally convinced you to move in and be her roommate after many months of trying. 
You visited her quite a bit as it was and figured you are still young and since you work remotely you had nothing to lose. It was the first time you had lived away from your family and that scared you, but in good way. You would have to learn to rely only on yourself knowing that there was no one coming to your rescue. Well other than Amelia. 
Amelia had been your best friend since the 3rd grade. She was the fun and free spirit to your quiet, homebody. She was the sun to your moon. Vastly different but bonded through life. 
Amelia not only had a different personality than you did, she was also more attractive than you, or so you and every boy in high school always thought. She was the one with the gorgeous boyfriends while you were always the one in the background. You didn’t mind though. You learned from her. Mistakes and successes, and knew what to look out for. 
Amelia had spent much of this past year single, enjoying her new life in Nashville. You wished you could contain even an ounce of her carefree and outgoing spirit. Part of you thinks that it’s why you finally decided to move to Nashville. 
She had always called you “penny girl” because in third grade you found a penny on the playground and gave it to her. From then on you became best friends. She called you Pen so often that sometimes you weren’t even sure if she remembered your actual name.
You hear the apartment door unlock, and realize she is home from work. It’s around 5:40, and you know she gets off right at 5:00 but Nashville traffic can be rough to say the least. 
“Pen? Are you here?” Amelia said almost yelling.
“Hey! Im in here, as usual…” you replied trying to match her tone. 
You spent a lot of time in the third bedroom which you had both decided to turn into a home office for you. Working from home was really nice, but you also felt a bit isolated. It was hard for you to make friends this way, but you figured Amelia’s friends would just become yours too.
A few seconds later she flitters into the room.
“Hey Penny girl how was your day? Traffic was a nightmare.” She said running her two sentences together, almost incoherently.
“Same as usual, too much work, not enough day.” You replied dully.
“Well, what do you say we make something good for dinner and then play on Raya all night?” She asks.
“Raya?” You reply.
“Uh, yeah? The dating app? It’s the one for creatives and influencers. You kind of have to have a big following to be invited to use it. I only have it because of my work social media account. It’s invite only so it kind of weeds out the weirdos. It’s so much fun to look through all the gorgeous men around us.” she says smiling questionably.
Nashville is definitely a hotspot as far as single, beautiful men go.
“Are you looking for a boyfriend? I thought you were enjoying the single life!” you said with air quotes.
“Ugh pen don’t be a party pooper” she said with an eye roll.
“Okay, okay, I’m not. Let’s do it.”
“Yay! I am so excited! Maybe we will even find you a man!” She said excitedly.
“Oh! No, Amelia, I just moved here, I need to settle in still!” You replied, frowning at her.
“We’ll see” she said with a smirk.
It was just past 9 o’clock, we made a delicious dinner and had polished off a bottle of red wine that she had bought for me when I moved in, to celebrate our new adult lives in Nashville.
We were perched on the couch sitting right next to each other. She had her phone in her hands, holding it right between us, and we were swiping left and right on Raya.”
Of course, half of the men she swiped right on were a match already. You both laughed out loud every single time she had a match and made up imaginary scenarios on how the guy would inevitably say or do something that would make you wish you had never swiped right in the first place. 
You of course knew a gorgeous man when you saw one, but you weren’t into the overtly masculine types that she was into. After reading a few of the profiles out you realized that a majority of these men were aspiring musicians trying to make a name for themselves in Nashville. 
She saw the look on your face when you made the realization.
“They are all like that babe. Every one of them. My advice? Stay away. They are all trouble.” She warned.
“Oh, they aren’t really my type. I don’t think I could ever date someone like that, you know?” You say, looking at her.
She turns up the corner of her mouth, “you never know Pen… you need to make yourself a profile! Oh! Can we, can we please?!” She exclaimed.
“I don’t know Amelia…I don’t have a big following or an invite..” you say with eyes begging her to drop it.
“I can send 1 invite a year! I pick now, and once you swipe through a few guys it will show you more people like what you’re interested in!” She says hopefully.
“Okay, I guess if you’re sure you want to use your invite on me, but it’s not serious and Im definitely not going on any dates.” you say sternly.
About 30 minutes later Amelia loudly exclaimed “It’s perfect!” A cue that your profile was done. She had taken it upon herself to fill out your details, and hand selected what she thought were your best photos. She had always been good at things like this, where it would take you ages to decide. After looking over her selections and making a few minor “about me” changes, you decided that it was good enough. This was just for fun anyways. 
The main profile picture was a photo of you from back home, standing in a lush field of over grown weeds and wildflowers. You are smiling but not looking at the camera, just past it. You had on your favorite dress of that summer, a white bohemian Free People number that you paid way too much for. You look happy and carefree, two things you weren’t sure you actually were. 
The second photo was a photo of you with Amelia at a concert a few months ago. You had driven down to see her and she roped you in to going to a show. Your hair was down and wavy and you had very minimal makeup on. You hardly wore make up as it is. You aren’t the best at it, so the more simple the better. 
The final photo was a photo of you visiting Sedona, Arizona. You were standing on the peak of a mountain, what was arguably the most beautiful view you had ever seen in your life. Decked out in hiking gear and a large backpack, you looked happy and at peace. 
Your “About Me” section read: 
“Nashville Transplant”, 25, Artist, and a few of your interests and hobbies.
You both laugh a little and swipe through a few guys, none catching your interest just yet. 
“Oh, well. Thanks Amelia, I think I am going to head to bed, that wine hit me harder than I thought. I am exhausted.”
“Night pen!”she said.
You do your night time routine, shower, brush your teeth, do your extensively long skin care routine that Amelia has forced you to start doing, you put your pajamas on and climb into your perfect fluffy bed. 
You can’t help this nagging feeling that you should just swipe through a few more profiles before you fall asleep.
You reach over and grab your phone off of the nightstand and open Raya. Again you’re met with countless men who just aren’t your type, buff, chiseled and stunningly hot no doubt, just not for you. You didn’t feel like you belonged with someone who looked like that. 
After about 10 minutes you find a handful of cute guys and swipe right nervously. 
The first, a tall average build guy named Kyle, with blonde shaggy hair, blue eyes and works as a web developer. 
The next an average height, moderately fit brunette baseball player with green eyes named Davis.
The last guy is named Josh. He seems on the shorter side, something that has never bothered you. He has brown eyes, curly brown hair and a stunning smile, however it says he is a musician. You take what Amelia had told you into account, but you realize that in Nashville everyone calls themselves a musician. 
You bite the bullet and see what happens. You probably won’t even match with these guys to begin with.  After a few more minutes of swiping and a few more cute ones swiped right on, you decide to go to bed.
You shoot up suddenly when you hear an alert on your phone. You glance at your alarm clock. 2:27AM.
You look at the offending message on your phone.
~ Congratulations! You Have A New Match! ~
You groan, damn Amelia making you get that app. You silence your phone and fall back asleep.
Next thing you know your alarm clock is going off, 7:00AM comes early. You lie in bed checking twitter for the latest news for a few minutes before you get up.
You slowly make your way to the kitchen to make coffee for Amelia and yourself. She’s already been up for an hour getting ready for work. She does the whole nine yards. Hair, make up, perfect outfit and doing it all before coffee. You wonder how she does it.
You deliver her cup to her in her bathroom and say your good mornings before walking back to your room.
About 20 minutes later Amelia is leaving for work and you are almost done getting ready for the day.
You spend most of the day completely over whelmed with work. You work as a virtual assistant and spend most of your time calling to confirm appointments, schedule meetings or order whatever item your boss needs that day. It’s a very fulfilling job that only someone extremely organized could handle. 
Around 3 o’clock you hear your phone ding from the other side of your desk.
~You Have A New Message on Raya!~
You had completely forgot about your 2 in the morning match. You quickly open the app to see who you matched with. Josh. You click on the picture of his face, and it opens the message which reads:
Josh: I am so glad that we matched, you seem lovely! Was that photo of you taken in Sedona by chance?
You take a minute and scroll through the rest of his photos, you hadn’t looked at them before, just his profile photo. As you scroll you see a photo of him standing with what looks to be his friends all huddled up together. One of the guys in the photo could easily pass at his twin and you figure they must be related.
The next photo is of him but it looks to be a professionally shot photo, and you tell your self it must be related to the “musician” detail of his profile. In every photo he is wearing a smile that is one of the most genuine you’ve ever seen. You can tell he has a kind soul.
You think for a minute what you want to say back to him.
You: Hi! I am also glad we matched, I didn’t think I would get any matches to be honest. My friend made me sign up with her one invite. Yes it is in Sedona, good eye. Have you been?
A message jumps back within a minute, almost as if he was waiting for your reply.
Josh: Well I, for one, am I am very glad that she made you. Of course you are going to get matches, you are beautiful. I have been to Sedona once or twice. Do you get to travel much?
You blush a deep pink, and your chest heats up. You weren’t sure you could still do that. It had been a very long time since you had received a compliment from someone who wasn’t a friend or family.
You: That is really sweet of you. Thank You. I travel a normal amount, not as much as I wish I could though. How about you?
You try to keep the banter as light as possible, not revealing too much about yourself too soon.
Josh: I would say that I am afforded the luxury of traveling more than the average person. While I do love traveling, usually for work, and sometimes there is no greater feeling than sleeping in the peace of your own home. Speaking of home, what brought you to Nashville?
At this point you have completely forgotten about the work that you are supposed to be doing. After reading his message you decide that you will answer him back after you finish your work tasks for the day. 
Those last two hours went by extraordinarily slow for a Friday, and you couldn’t help it that your mind kept wandering back to this mystery guy, Josh. You kick yourself for letting this happen since you promised yourself this was just for fun and that you weren’t going to take it seriously.
You decide to message him back and explain how your best friend convinced you to move in with her and how the rest is history. You and Josh message back and forth for quite a while exchanging questions and getting to know each other a little better.
Your last message to him was sent 6:17PM, and he usually replied to you fairly quickly since you began chatting this afternoon. You asked about his family and what brought him to Nashville. Two or three hours pass and you continually check your phone but, there is nothing there. You and Amelia finish up dinner and you suggest that you watch a movie to take your mind off of it. Throwing your phone onto your bed, you walk back to the living room and watch the entirety of ‘Legally Blonde’, Amelia’s suggestion of course.
After the movie had ended you both decide to turn in for the night. You walk back to your room, pretending that you’re not dying to check your phone to see if you have any new messages from Josh. You pick it up and turn it over. You have three messages from Josh. 
Josh: My brothers and I recently moved here from Michigan. We all live pretty much walking distance from each other so it is really nice.
Josh: I am so sorry to leave you hanging earlier, my phone died right as I got to the studio, and I think one of my brothers must have taken my charger out of my car, the one time I need it of course. 
Josh: I know this seems forward but would you like to exchange numbers?
His last message was sent well over 45 minutes from the previous two and an hour had passed since this last message. You thought about how you wanted to respond. Of course you wanted to give him your number, but you didn’t want to seem too eager either. Begrudgingly, you decided that you needed to ask Amelia. You slowly walked to her door and knocked quietly.
“Come In!” She said.
“Hey, I have a… question for you, but please don’t laugh at me.” You said embarrassingly. 
“Oh my god what?!” She exclaimed.
“So I matched with someone on Raya and…” 
“I KNEW IT!” She interrupted. “You were checking your phone all night! I knew something was up. Oh my gosh tell me, what’s going on? Who is it! Show me!” She bursted out.
“No way, I am not showing you anything yet. I just need your advice on how to respond to this message” you say sternly. 
You explain the situation and read out his last few messages, hoping that she would know what to do. After all she does this all the time.
“You need to message him back like, right now! Give him your number! It’s obvious you kinda like him Pen, and he is clearly feeling you right back! What is the worst thing that could happen, I mean you can always block him if you need to” she says. She puts her hand on your shoulder to reassure you that it’s not as big of a deal as it feels. You thank her, say goodnight, and gather up your courage to type a response back to him. Its nearly midnight at this point so you’re sure he won’t see it until the morning. 
You: Siblings, gotta love em I guess. Don’t worry about it, I had a movie night tonight anyways. Sure we can exchange numbers!
You type in your number and hit send, heart beating out of your chest. Why do you feel this way?
You set your phone down and do your usual night time routine. It is late so you try to hurry so that you can still try to get 6 or 7 hours. After you finish up you get in bed and turn off your lamp. 15 minutes is your new record. Just as you begin to get drowsy you hear your phone vibrate on your nightstand. 
Your heart begins to beat rapidly at the realization that it’s probably him since your friends and family know not to text you this late. You pick up your phone and on the screen is a message from an unknown contact.
Unknown: Hey pretty girl, I’m sorry, I know its late but I just wanted you to have my number too. Rest well.
You could have died right then and there. Pretty girl?! You’re fairly positive that no one in your life has called you such a cute name before. You quickly text back. 
You: Thank you, you too. With a smiley emoji. 
You set your phone back on the nightstand and doze off dreaming of what could be.
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