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wqxianwriting · 9 months

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how to make a golden retriever happy.

SLIGHTLY proofread | f!reader | poly relationship with nick & charlie though reader isn’t dating charlie | pretty damn long i got ahead of myself, sorry :,) | they’re so cute but im so bad at details fr | lunch date, walks, stargazing w fireflies & movie night! (you got headbands to wear… guess what movie charlie is having y’all watch rn) | what is stargazing | author questioning what color sonic’s eyes are | theres some crying at the end and a mention of breaking up but its just those negative thoughts actin up, theyre all okay :) | angst/comfort? | not many kisses unfortunately but THERE ARE SOME, like three scenes… two? | there is cussing, not much | nick & reader flashbacks

#%a/n%#;; first request done! thanks for it, they mean so much to me. i didn’t wanna make it too long but here we are lolol, hope it’s enjoyable though 🥹💜 also ntm on your family details but your mom does appear and she has a “set” personality! no one else appears though so you can imagine the reader’s family how you want, though it is mentioned your mom is married. also note, since reader is a lady she goes to the same school as like, elle darcy tara (and probably imogen too, right?). meant to post this yesterday but i wanted to add some stuff at the end haha, sorry sorry this is a whole ass wattpad book fr, feel like i wrote so much and nothing at the same time. hope you enjoy if you give it a read thought fhdhdj

OH YEAH last thing, the emotions in this story is kind of a whiplash 💀 one minute they’re happy the next theyre kinda sad or bittersweet so- hopefully the pacing doesnt seem bad… BE WARNED. shouldn’t be too crazy. okay thats it this time do enjoy

character(s):

nick & charlie (heartstopper)

elle & tao cameo

reader’s mom omg she’s a sweetheart, charlie’s parents are mentioned/super small cameo, nick’s mom also has a small cameo/is mentioned

darcy, imogen and sahar are very briefly mentioned!

The sweet sound of the school bell rings throughout and the school and every single student sighs in relief of the noise. You glance up at the clock on the wall before looking around the classroom where students are packing up their bags while talking noisily to one another.

You allow yourself to recline in your chair, left arm reaching back to where your backpack dangles off the seat and slide your hands into the side pocket, grabbing your phone.

Nicky Ricky Dicky: I’m alive!

Char: you live! i live too :) wanna walk together today or are you both busy? (gonna pick you up bestie)

Y/N: i’ll meet you outside (ty loveliest)

Char: awesome!!! nick?

Nicky Ricky Dicky: Sorry aha, I need to go home quickly today but I’ll be sure to join tomorrow!

This makes you pout and you can imagine your bestfriend having the same expression because the sad emoji he wrote in the group-chat even makes you sadder.

Char: ☹️

Y/N: don’f worry charlie

Y/N: Don’t*

Nicky Ricky Dicky: Sorry :,)

Char: It’s fine! Do what you have to do… we gonna facetime tonight though?

Char hearts your message ‘don’f worry charlie’.

Nicky Ricky Dicky: No promises but I’ll do my best. 😠❤️

Nicky Ricky Dicky: i gtg now, love you both <3

Y/N: lym! ❤️

Char: love you! ❤️❤️❤️

Y/N: three hearts 🥹

Char: y/n. STOP. come outside before i die

Y/N: omg… such a drama king like okay

You write and yet, you’re quick to jump from your chair and snatch your bag before sliding it on your shoulder. You push in your chair and skip out into the hallways where you see Elle. “Heya, Elle!”

She smiles warmly and waves goodbye to her friends before stepping in sync with you. “Hey there, Miss, didn’t catch your name.” You bump her shoulder and she bumps you back. “What’re you up to?”

“Charlie’s gonna come pick me up, hopefully via bike… mines broke the other day.” You sigh and she gives you a look of pity while trying to bite back a grin. Then she perks up.

“Not Nick?”

You shake your head, rubbing a hand against your temple. “Mm-mm, you ever just get a feeling something is off?”

Elle nods, turning her face away from you and her hands grip onto the handle of her bag that bounces against her legs. “Yeah, just putting it out there… graduation may be on his mind, I know its on mine and it’s been kicking my ass to be honest,” You wrap an arm around her in comfort and she hums in appreciation. “Just all that weird stuff, weird thoughts and anxiety…” Then she pauses, raising a hand and flicking her wrist. “Okay- not weird, but you know.”

That makes you snort, “Yeah, I get’cha… maybe, but we’ve always been open about that kind of stuff, I just don’t understand why it’d be a issue… I mean, we’ve talked about it many times before so it’s kind of odd, I guess?” You and Elle share a look of confusion before shrugging.

“Maybe it’s been having more of an impact y’know? You can speak easily about something when you’re not there yet but… graduation is coming up and everyone is worried about the future. You know how things don’t hit you till it’s happening literally next week or something? Maybe its hitting harder.”

Your heart clenches in pain at those words. She’s not wrong, there is a high chance it’s staring to affect him more… hitting harder than you’d know. You nibble on your bottom lip in concern and furrow your eyebrows,

“Well. If he’s being an idiot and isn’t gonna come to us about it then I’ll beat him up.” You place your hands on your hips, lightly joking to disperse the tense air between the two of you. Of course he isn’t being an idiot but you refuse to let him stress on his own. Elle chokes out a laugh in surprise.

“Oh god, he better run, she’s scary when she’s angry.” One of her hands let go of her bag and she hold her stomach while laughing a bit more. “Wouldn’t that be a sight?”

You scoff, “Like we haven’t argued before.”

“You argue about literal video games.”

“Stop.” You laugh and push at her shoulder. “Oh, and Elle, you know I’m your friend and if you ever need an ear to lend about college talk or need help to get your mind off of it to just relax, you got me.” She stares at you for a few beats before cracking into a grin.

“Thank you, Y/N. You know you got me too.”

Outside the school building you’re quick to spot two familiar figures by the gate. “Yes, he’s here!” Your arms raise in celebration then instantly flop down, “There’s no bike…!”

Elle calls out which makes the two boys stiff in seconds.

“Get your butts over here, Mr. Xu and Mr. Spring!” They awkwardly crane their necks to your direction and simultaneously sigh in relief – probably thinking you were teachers.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Tao exclaims as you and Elle once you’re right infront of the two, gesturing to his heart. Elle is quick to place a hand over his chest – Tao’s cheeks lowkey reddening but you decide not to point it out for his sake – and her eyes widen a bit.

“Tao, your chest is gonna shoot out your chest.”

“See?”

“That is the goal, sire.” You finger gun at him and he smacks your hand away lightly with an exasperated look. It makes you giggle. “Elle is just feeling a little silly today.”

“It’s my agenda.” She grins before engulfing Charlie into a hug and he squeaks in surprise before squeezing her back. “Hello, Charlie!”

“Are you sure your heart isn’t pounding because you’ve gotten your daily dose of Elle?” You whisper while stepping in line next to Tao, facing your head to your other friends but you can see him tense at the corner of your eye.

He pinches his nose bridge, mumbling and you catch some of the words, suspiciously sounding like him saying he’s gonna fight you. His cheeks bloom a rosy rose so you take the win either way and smugly smirk at him.

“Hi, Elle!” His muffled laugh catches your attention, making you and Tao smile at the interaction before you wrap an arm around the latter, making him eyeroll, of course he does, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives you a light squeeze in response.

“We best be off on our merry way,” You speak up, checking the time as the two friends let go of eachother. “I wanna stop by that new shop that opened a few weeks ago… Is that fine, Char?”

He gives you a thumbs up and Elle speaks, “Let me know how their desserts taste, I’ve been wondering but honestly they don’t look that good so…” She stares at you with a grimace before shrugging.

“Noted~” You say in a singsong voice before wrapping your arms around Charlie. “I’ll call you later, enjoy your afternoon date.” You and Charlie give the couple teasing grins and they take the bait, looking away in shyness but Tao takes the initiative and connects their hands together. It makes you melt.

“Shut up.” He groans, snapping but tone very much unthreatening adding on the fact he’s trying to cover his flustered face with his free hand.

“Yes, yes grumpy old man, we’ll see you later.” You and Charlie waist no time to start down the road with waves.

“Bye!” He shouts.

“I’m not a grumpy old man!” Tao stomps his foot, comedically. Right. How could you make that mistake?

“Bye, Y/N and Charlie!” Elle laughs with a wave and tugs her totally-not-grumpy boyfriend off in the other direction. You watch their hands tighten around eachother, squinting in amusement when Tao’s scowl instantly softens into a lovestruck gaze.

“Ahhh, young love.”

“You’re starting to sound like the old one here.” Charlie snickers, hands coming up to hold onto your forearms that are still bounded around him.

“You wound me, Char.” You squeeze him and he huffs. “I literally think the same when you and Nick are interacting, it’s so,” You make weird noises, fingers wiggling. “Y’know? Very sweet. Very cute, I even have some photos of you latching onto eachother while sleeping. Wanna see-?”

His brain feels like it’s shutting down, lightly smacking your arm when you lift it as to grab your phone. “Stop it.” You could practically see those animated stars swirling around his head and laugh.

You relent and unwrap your arms with a cheeky smile. He glances at you before hiding his face in his hands. “Ughh, whatever. You act like you don’t jump Nick the minute you see him.” Yeah, that’s crazy. You feel your own cheeks flaring up.

“You must be blind.”

“No, no, no. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie!” He exclaims in a joking tone, uncovering his face and poking you in accusation. You lean away, losing your balance and forcing yourself to lean on your tippy toe. Your other foot comes down onto pavement with a stomp and you twirl like you’re dancing. Charlie definitely notices this misstep, doesn’t say anything but you see his shoulders shaking in silence. He’s laughing.

“I never lie?” You pick off the conversation.

“Was that a question?” He tilts his head back at you.

“No?”

He stares at you, eyebrow twitching and you puff out your cheeks like a frog, looking anywhere but in his direction. “You’re awfully cheeky today.”

“How am I being cheeky?” He gives you a look like you’re being ridiculous.

“Charlie Spring is a little cheeky today, my oh my, what have I done to deserve this.” Then you raise your voice in a slight yell, “Ahhh! Who is this?! This isn’t my Charlieeee…!” Your arms reach for the sky.

“You’re an idiot.” He takes the chance and poke you again which makes you yelp. You narrow your eyes. He runs off, you chase.

That was last week. You haven’t seen your boyfriend in a couple of days and it’s concerning. He responds hours late to your messages, doesn’t even respond in your group chat with Charlie, his calls barely last ten minutes and you literally haven’t seen this man in person. Charlie tells you he still shows up at school but his eye-bags are pretty bad.

“Is he avoiding me? I’m confused.” You frown, balled up on Charlie’s bed and feeling very mixed. A little annoyed, a little sad, and alot of worried. Charlie sets down two mugs on his bedside table and sits next to you on the bed. His rests a hand atop of your head and lightly taps it.

“No… I don’t think so. I see him at school and he tries to act normal but even he doesn’t respond to me like that outside of school.” The scowl his face makes has deepened and you’re quick to wrap an arm around his leg in comfort. He lets out a weak smile but it’s quick to fall off his face. “I’m confused too…”

You both stay silent, it’s nearly deafening. “I don’t wanna force him to tell us anything – I mean, he knows he can come to us if he needs it but if he’s really stressed about school maybe we can help give him some space to not think about it. Even if its only for a bit, you know?” Charlie listens to you mumble while tugging at a loose thread on his sweater and nods slowly, eyes lost in thought.

“Should we go somewhere?” He tilts his head back to look at the ceiling before his gaze travels around his room’s walls, hoping to find an inkling of inspection.

“That sounds fine.” The somber feeling in the room lifts a bit when you start to grin. You shift onto your back, raising your right arm in the air and sprawl out your fingers. “We could go out, do something and eat… I kinda wanna stargaze, is that weird?”

He lets out a chuckle, glancing down at you with a teasing glint in his eyes, “Wow, you’re such a romantic, Y/N. I’m shocked.” To which you scoff.

“Well, duh. Who makes all the date plans?”

“Okay, no, that’s because you say we’re bad at planning dates – you refuse us to even be involved.”

“Charlie, Nick brought you to a dog park as a date.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You both stayed there till nine.”

He full on laughs now, bumping you with his knee and you smack it back in retort. “No judgement though, I would do the same but that was for the whole day! Who stays at a dog park from Eleven to Nine?” He continues to laugh until they turn into giggles.

“Maybe… we’re unique.”

“True that. You didn’t even bring baby Nells, shaking my head.” To put emphasis, you shake your head and your friend has to gasp out for air. “Don’t die, now.”

“Whatever whatever.” He brings his hands to his face and rubs his cheeks in circular motion to calm himself. His face is flushed and he exhales slowly before reaching for his phone. “Do you want your drink?”

You remove your arm from his leg and sit up properly, holding on your hands and he complies, placing the mug between them. “Thank you~” You lean on the wall, flopping your legs onto Charlie’s before crossing them at the ankles – to which he sighs in annoyance and it makes you grin. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m gonna search for places to go that is nearby but not too close… you have a place in mind for stargazing?” He grabs his own mug that is black and littered with yellow stars, how ironic. You nod sleepily, slowly sipping your preferred drink and tap at the cup absentmindedly.

“Yeah, it’s near my house.”

He flicks his eyes towards you for a second.

Then goes back to typing on his phone.

“You mean it is your home.”

“Maybe.”

You smirk, he sighs and you both go back to planning. Nick honestly better be willing to get his ass dragged out of the house by his lovely girlfriend and boyfriend because money is involved and you both would be damned if he just wallows in self despair, alone.

So, that’s what happens, you fill Charlie’s parents in on needing to steal your bestfriend during the weekend and some of the plans involved like a movie night. They agreed to let him stay over for the night but he must call every few hours or atleast text.

Your parents love the boys and were completely down with the idea. Of course you also secretly called Nick’s mum and she had filled you in on a couple things that made you a tad bit more nervous to see your boyfriend.

Seems like your assumption was correct (more like Elle’s). “Lately he’s been talking about colleges, right… he’s planning to go on a trip sometime this month to check them out but he seems stressed, it’s been worrying me. You know though, kids probably don’t want their parents all in their business, haha,” She laughs softly and you can hear running water cut off on her end – probably washing something – “He knows he can come to me so I’m just letting him have his space. It’s lovely you and Charlie want to ease his mind! Glad he’s with and friends with two sweethearts,” This makes your face flare up in embarrassment but your chest puffs with pride.

“Of course, and I know he appreciates you being patient and understanding with him. The thing we don’t wanna do is pressure him… I just hope this can help take his mind off of the stress and you know… relax?” You grimace a bit, tugging at the end of your sleeve as the phone sits between your ear and shoulder.

“I get it, mhm. Thank you, Y/N.” Her voice is still soft but gets even more sincere with a hint of emotion. Had you feeling emotional too.

Saturday is quick to arrive and you stare at your reflection with determination. Brushing down your outfit, you admire your date look a bit more before turning around slowly and snatch your bag off the bed which is filled with random necessities that you may or may not need along with your wallet.

“Alright, Nick Nelson, prepare yourself for the best date you’ll ever be on.” You puff out your cheeks, grab you phone of the charger and exit your room. “I’ll be off, Mother~” You hum once you reach the end of the staircase and spot your Mom on the couch with a paper in hand.

“What is with the formal address?” She chuckles behind her hand, standing up and following you towards the front door. “I’ll see you later tonight with Nick and Charlie, right? Enjoy yourselves.” She smiles, wrapping her arms around your head and you hug her back with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh! Wait.”

She quickly unravels herself from you and speeds down the hall to the kitchen. Your eyes stare down the direction she went for a few seconds before deciding to slip on your shoes.

“Okay, here you go.” You’re standing with the door open by the time she comes back and she gives you a picnic basket. It’s not super big but you have to grab it with two hands. Less from the size, more from the weight.

“Mom. What did you pack in here?” You huff out a laugh, going to open the lid but she stops you.

“No, do not open it. It’s like… a wedding. You can’t see your spouse or it’ll be bad luck!” She speaks with a finger raised and you cock an eyebrow up. Whatever you say, Mom is basically your expression and she seems to notice because she places her hands on her hips with an exasperated look. “Just trust me, I’ve done it before and it was bad luck all day.”

“Mhm, mhm, right.” You nod, half listening and backing up on your porch. She follows, hand on the doorknob with a soft smile and she pinches your cheek with her other hand. “Thanks, I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.” She full on grins now and waves. After your ‘see you later’ promises, you’re quick to dart down the street and across the roads to a nearby park where Charlie said he’d meet you after picking up Nick. It gives you enough time to unload the nice lunch packed for the three of you and hopefully buy some refreshing popsicles or ice creams before they arrive.

Seems like luck is on your side though – maybe your Mom was right – because the minute you finish laying out the huge blanket in a nice shaded area you hear the sound of someone ringing a familiar bell sound. You turn your head so quick it nearly gave you whiplash and your eyes widen at the person walking along the park’s path, pushing a white squared cart decorated with photos of different types of cold treats.

You take your bag and phone, dialing Charlie’s number while speedwalking across the grassy field. It takes two rings before you hear his voice.

“Yes, partner in crime?” His voice comes off as staticky for a moment.

“What the hell are you doin’, your mic is scuffed as hell…”

“I’m walking!” You could imagine the eyeroll Charlie would do and bite your cheek to not laugh.

“Are you with Nick?” You continue to talk but smile in greeting when the ice cream seller stops at you coming over. He says hello and you wave before looking over all the choices on the cart.

“Yes. We’re grabbing drinks right now, you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m at the park, set up the picnic – though the food is still in the basket,” You glance back at your spot and after making sure nothing seems out of the ordinary you look back at the cart. “You remember those ice cream cart things? You want something?”

It’s silent between the two of you as Charlie ponders, in the meantime you point to your desired choice and the guy nods with a smile, opening the ice cream cart before digging around in the pile of cold desserts until he finds the one you want.

“Do they-“ He cuts himself off with a chuckle and you perk up at his voice, “Do they um,” He snorts this time then sighs to calm himself, “The ones with the bubblegum eyes. I wanna try one.”

You laugh a little, thanking the ice cream man as he sets the packaged treat in your hand. “Do you want the sonic one or something?”

“Whatever you spot first or whichever is given. Oh wait- Nick-“ You zone out a bit as he speaks to the blond and point to the blue hedgehog. The ice cream man continues his search. “He said he wants the crybaby ice cream.”

“Oh god.” You sigh in adoration, tilting your head back to the clear blue sky. “Weren’t they, like, terrible the last time we tried them?”

This time you hear Nick’s cheerful voice and he scoffs, “Okay, no. That was because for some weird reason you and Darcy wanted to put warheads into the mix.”

“Thank you,” You say to the nice man, grabbing a ten and a five dollar bill as a tip out of your wallet with a smile. You then put all the treats into your bag along with the wallet, waving the man bye which he returns and goes on his merry way. Your focus goes back to the two boys. “Ah yes, I remember the part where your face went sooo red. Hilarious, I have videos I think.”

He groans in prospect and you hear muffled giggles erupt from Charlie. “Why do you do this to me?”

“What are you talking about?” You tease and he groans again.

Charlie then speaks up, sounding way closer to the phone. “Alright! We’ll see you in two-point-five seconds.” You hum in response and say your goodbyes before hanging up the phone.

You reach the blanket again, flopping on your tush and take the ice creams out, aligning them with precision on top of the picnic basket. Charlie doesn’t disappoint because not two minutes later you see two familiar figures walking down the park path, one of them pointing towards your general direction and ditching the path to the grass.

You could feel your heart pound from… nervousness or excitement? Maybe both and it makes you grin, waving at the two. They get closer and Charlie waves awkwardly with a hand that has a drink in it, to which you notice his other hand also had a drink… and one of Nick’s. The blond’s other hand is carrying headbands of some sort and a bag is hanging off his arm.

“Char told me to get these while we were in the grocery store.” Nick speaks first when they get to you, he lifts the hand with headbands. “I decided not to question it.” You raise your hands and he carefully sets the accessories in them. Ah. Barbie headbands.

“Charlie…” Your brows pinch in amusement but also bewilderment. “What have you decided?”

He chuckles mysteriously, lifting a foot off the ground to point at your hand. “Put those down and take your drink, please. My hands are freezing.”

“Oops.” You comply and take the cup. The two eventual settle down with Nick in the middle and you quietly take a nice sip of the beverages. “Thank you.”

The boys nod and you glance at Nick, noticing the shadows of bags under his eyes. It makes you frown for a second, “So, what am I doing here on this lovely day.” Before you could inquire, Nick speaks up first, eyes shutting in contentment and a pretty smile adoring his face.

You lean back on the palm of your hand, eyeing Charlie and he meets your gaze. “Can we not want to hang out with the one and only, Mr. Nick Nelson?” You speak with a teasing tone, leaning into his side. His smile goes wider and he opens his eyes to meet yours.

“You make me sound like some big shot.”

Your eyes narrow.

“Well it was hard to reach you… so…” His gaze falters along with his smile, nervously tapping the top of his cup. “Not to pressure you, you know that but Charlie and I will always be there to listen if you need it.” You poke his arm gently and you spot Charlie’s hand sliding into Nick’s.

“Yeah.” Charlie nods, squeezing their hands, “But if not, that’s fine too. Y/N and I wanted to just, relax with you. Spend some time together.”

That makes Nick let out a shaky laugh and a wobbly smile. “Thanks.” He pauses. “Really. It’s just been, crazy?” He nibbles at his bottom lip before sighing and flops on his back, leaving his cup between his crossed legs and dragging the two of you down with him – which makes you all share a laugh.

Charlie rests against his boyfriend’s chest – facing his direction and you flip onto your stomach to play with both of their soft locks. “What has?” You ask softly.

He’s silent for a bit, tapping his fingers on your back with his free hand. “I’m not sure, school? Life? …Me? There’s no exact reason, everything just seems to be crashing down in my brain and it’s annoying to say the least.” He sighs heavily, “I’m probably just having that kind of month where everything is just feels like alot.” He frowns and you move the hand in his hair down under his chin, gently squeezing his cheeks and he chuckles.

“That’s perfectly fine, it happens.” You move the hand to trail up the left side of his face and place your palm over his forehead like you’re checking his temperature and it makes Charlie join in, prodding at Nick’s neck gently.

“There’s a lot going through your life right now, perfectly understandable why it feels overwhelming and such. Thank you for talking to us about it.” Charlie speaks softly.

“Of course. I don’t,” Nick pauses, opening his eyes with a flash of worry, “I don’t want it to feel like I’m shutting you both out or anything, or if it feels like you’ve done something wrong. I feel less weird thinking I’m overreacting, haha…” The laugh comes off flat but from the reassuring smiles from his lovers, he feels at ease.

“You’re not.”

“Nuh-uh.” You and Charlie speak simultaneously, denying such thoughts. It makes Nick laugh which sounds less forceful.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to talk about everything right now since I don’t even think I’m done… accessing everything but really, thank you. You both are my anchors.” If you didn’t tear up from that, your heart definitely did. Charlie gets up off Nick, letting go of the blond’s hand and tilts his head back with his hands over his face.

“Same, Charlie.” You cover your own face and lay flat against the blanket.

“I…” Nick trails off with another laugh and he sits back up which catches both of your attention. “Can we eat though, I’m getting a little hungry.” He gives a shy smile and you also sit up.

“Oh shit, what if the ice cream melted?!” This realization has the three of you shooting towards the basket, grabbing the packaged delights and simultaneously sigh in relief. They’re not melted… yet.

“Should we just eat these first and then eat the actual lunch next?” Charlie bites back a laugh, already opening up the plastic and pulling out the bubblegum eye Sonic, wasting no time to put it in his mouth with wide adorning eyes.

You and Nick watch him in amusement before opening your own. “I wanted this lime popsicle they usually sell but there were none.” You sigh before eyeing Nick’s container of airhead ice cream. He opens the top and it reveals the swirls of… red? Or pink and green.

“That’s funny, we saw those while we were at the store. There were these coconut flavors too.” Nick reminisces, plucking the taped but wrapped in it’s own plastic wooden spoon off the side of the ice cream container.

Charlie hums before looking down at the bitten into Sonic, “Why does Sonic have green eyes? Are they actually green?”

You all stay silent.

“I thought they were black or brown?” You speak in confusion.

“Right? Even blue….” Charlie tilts his head.

“Technically all of those are correct though they turn red as well… It’s the different franchises, I guess?” Nick furrows his brows in thought, scooping into his sour treat after freeing the wooden stick and eats away, wincing here and there. You watch with amusement.

The lunch date you can say with absolute certainty was very successful. You all catch up on things that have been going on and different shows you’ve been watching. Sharing ice cream, stuffing yourselves full with your Mom’s cooking – there was even a drink war? All you knew was one minute you were nearly done with your beverage and the next it’s being tossed in Nick’s direction as you try and run away from Charlie’s retort from you getting him seconds before. Ah, can’t forget the classic kisses shared under one of the many trees at the park and the newest photos stored in your ‘Nick & Char ❤️’ album, like the picture of Charlie ‘painting’ Nick’s face with whip cream. Where the fuck did you get whip cream from? Ask your mother.

Around the time you were all packing up, a teenager around your age ran up with their four other friends and inform you there is a nice walking trail – pointing towards the area where the park path splits, one continuing into a circle around the whole field and the other going into an area with rows of trees.

“Y’think we’ll get jumpscared? Like a haunted path or something.” You joked.

“They said there’s a nice stream down the path.” Nick smirks at your joking, placing a hand on your head and you puff out your cheeks, feeling them heat up a bit.

“Ah yes, you can take a nice swim in it when I push you in there, Y/N.” Charlie hums, quick to dart his eyes away when you flip your head in his direction.

“You’re so evil to me?” You watch him with wild eyes, mouth agape and he laughs.

“Do you think we’ll actually able to get in?” Nick ponders and you flip the wild gaze to him now.

“With us three, I’m sure we can pull it off.” Charlie responds with a menacing grin, mischief all up in his eyes and you’re playing ping pong with your eyes, flitting back and forth between them.

“I’m gonna be arrested today, huh…” Your boyfriend and bestfriend just giggle like evil people.

In the end, you three didn’t get in the stream’s water but there were some fishes so you decided to feel them the crust that Charlie didn’t eat from his sandwich and take some more photos. Nick had picked Charlie up bridal-style, getting dangerously close to the water and you record it all.

“Don’t drop me!” Charlie tightens his hold around Nick, fear and excitement in his tone.

“This takes me back to the beach…” Nick ignores his boyfriend’s pleas and spins around carefully.

“Do not reminisce while I’m in your arms, please and thank you?!” He exclaims and it makes you full on laugh, an arm over your stomach while watching the whole exchange happen.

It’s not long before it turns from afternoon to evening, you three return back from the area with Nick and Charlie debating on if they saw a deer or not. Charlie saying it was definitely there and Nick saying it wasn’t there.

“Carl Grimes flashbacks…” You hum and Charlie puts you in a headlock.

“Do not. I will cry right here.” He pouts and pulls at your cheeks, ignoring your protests. Nick watches with a soft gleam in his eyes, rocking the picnic basket back and forth with a hand.

You all walk down the sidewalk side by side once Charlie lets you go, talking about random things before Nick realizes the direction you’re going.

“Are we dropping Y/N off?” He frowns.

It catches you and Charlie off guard. “What? What makes you think that?” You raise an eyebrow. Nick points ahead and your house in slowly coming up in view. Ah.

“Ah.” Charlie speaks your thought and you both share a laugh. “No, we’re not dropping her off.” Charlie stretches his arms with a grunt before eyeing the bag strapped around Nick. “You brought pajamas and clothes for tomorrow, right?”

Nick nods, pursing his lips. “Still confused about that.”

You scoff in amusement and place a hand on your forehead with an endearing smile. “Nick…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll understand soon.” Charlie gives him a thumbs up, paired with a wink before darting ahead of the two of you. Nick flicks his gaze to you in question but you put on an act and shrug.

“What he said,” You pause for a moment, eyes burning into Nick’s, “Do you like stargazing?”

He moves closer to you, closing the gap and tugs your hand in his. The question makes him look up at the sky for a moment. “Mmm. Never tried it before? What counts as stargazing? I’ve… been in the car on trips and looked out the window…?” You give him a perplexed look which he returns.

“Alright, well-“ You chuckle, “That can… technically count? I guess? Just… Yeah.” You give up midway, tugging Nick along when you get closer to the front of your house where Charlie awaits. “You’re on your phone while you’re on a date? Tsk tsk.” You tut your lips in disapproval and Charlie startles.

He rolls his eyes, flipping his phone to the two of you bounding up the steps. “I was texting Saha- oops, hold on-“ He cuts himself off, flipping the phone back around with a nervous smile.

You glance at Nick before moving your hand to cover his eyes with your other hand. He gasps in surprise but doesn’t question it any further, grinning a bit. Facing back to Charlie you mouth the word, ‘Barbie?’ and tilt your head in confusion. He nods.

“You’re silly.” You remove your hand from Nick’s face and flatten your hand, tapping Charlie’s forehead in a chopping motion. He rubs the area with a laugh and you knock on your front door.

“Did you forget your keys?” Nick giggles when you give him a look of shame.

“Maybe.”

Your Mom is quick to open the door, grinning widely. “Welcome back. Hello, Charlie and Nick.” They wave in shyness and she scoots back to let the three of you in. “What’s the plan next, soldier?” She bumps the door closed with her hip and loosely crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow at you specifically.

“Gonna go in the back for about an hour…” You trail off, taking your shoes off in the most complicated way. With your feet, or the heels per-say. When you finish you take the basket from Nick and walk to the kitchen with your mom as the boys finish taking off their own shoes. “To stargaze.” You finally finish when Nick’s ears are out of reach.

She pats you on the back with approval, “Attagirl. How was lunch?”

“It was fun! We spoke a bit, ate and went down a trail.” You bounce your head to the side while listening the activities before pausing. “He seems more… energized?” Your lips purse.

“Was that a question?” She leans against the counter, one arm coming out of the self-hug and she combs her hand through your hair. You give her an awkward look and she breathes out a laugh. Tapping the crown of your forehead, she moves away to the fridge with a soft smile. “Well, if he seems to be uplifted,” She eyes you before taking out three water bottles. “That’s great news, no?” Then sets them infront of you on counter.

“You’re right but… I don’t know. I just feel like I can do more,” You huff. “But that’s dumb because of course I can’t, this has to be something Nick figures out and all I can do is support him.”

“Honey, that is doing more for him. Supporting him is the biggest help you can five someone, along with what you’re already doing. Taking him out, letting him have space to clear his mind and being a safe net. Same thing with Charlie, no?“ Her hands latch onto your shoulders and give the muscles a gentle squeeze. “I know it feels like you want to do so much more but, there’s only so much.” You tilt your head back and look up at her with a half-smile before relenting.

“You’re right.”

“A mother is always right.” She lets go and moves towards the stove, giving you a smug side eye… which you return with an unamused eyeroll.

“Yes, yes. My mother is always right. Sometimes.”

“About ninety-nine percent.”

“Ninety-five…” You lift an eyebrow and give her pointed look. She has a spoon in her hand when she looks over you and points it to her chin in thought, it’s just a bit though.

“Ninety-seven. Take it or leave it.”

You scoff in amusement before scooping up the bottles, “Whatever you say, ma’am. We’ll be outside.” She hums in understanding and you exit out the kitchen, walking into the dining room before reaching the living room where the duo waits.

“Pleasure for you to join us.” Charlie smirks and takes two of the bottles from your arms with a nod of thanks.

“Be welcomed.” Nick muses with a grin and cracks open the bottle, taking a quick refreshing sip.

“What is this speech? I hate it.” Your face scrunches up in disgust before gesturing to the sliding glass door. “Shall we?”

“Look who’s doing it now…” Charlie stares at you cheekily. You give him the finger, he returns it.

There are slides in a shoe rack near the door and you three take a pair before stepping out. Nick’s eyes widen in wonder. Your backyard has a big blanket – similar to the one from the picnic – sitting in the middle of the area that has a plot of grass and lanterns that hang off metal rods sit nicely around in the grass that have curves at the end, doing nicely as handles. What surprises you are the little bugs that fly and flicker with a yellow-green gleam in the air.

“Since when do we get fireflies?” You speak first.

“Since forever, Y/N.” Charlie poked your back and you jump, flipping around to get him back but he’s already slipped behind Nick.

“You little…”

“Ah, ah ah, you have to be nice to me.”

“Says who?” He’s being ridiculous.

“Says me. Your bestfriend.” He peaks around Nick’s side – who, mind you, is still focusing on the backyard’s look – with a teasing grin.

“I’mma beat you up.”

“No!” He lets out a laugh when you lunge towards him, twirling out of your reach and running around with you flailing behind.

It felt special to Nick. The orange-red sky turning into it’s pitch dark blue color, stars twinkling down on you three with a full moon bright. His eyes are stuck on his two partners, the fireflies swirling around them out of disturbance but still they still decorate the backyard with green-yellow hues, not ready to leave. He remembers this conversation you had in this backyard a year ago…

“Do you think fireflies come around this area?” You were sitting on a bean bag, legs tucked beneath yourself and were practically sunken into the ‘seat.’ Charlie had insisted you to put it on the concrete side of the backyard so you did and now your face is hidden behind Nick’s switch in your hands.

Speaking of who, Nick is currently soaked wet, wringing out the ends of his shirt and Charlie wraps himself up in a towel. It’s late night, pitch dark but they wanted to play with water balloons and your Mom happened to be out of the house to pick up dinner.

“Maybe…” He leans back to look at the sky. “Why? Do you like fireflies or something?” He looks back down at you. The question has you silent for a couple of beats before you set down the console. He watches you with an amused twinkle in his gaze, puffing out his chest in pride at seeing you in his sweater. Charlie had been wearing it earlier and you both traded before they brought out the balloons.

“I mean, I have never seen any so, maybe, maybe not.” You shrug, unfolding your legs and stretching them out with a groan. Your socked feet slap down against the concrete and you sit up a bit. “Don’t you think they’re kinda special though? My Mom said it’s like they’re glowing up your night, dancing around you and stuff.” You eye the floor. “Appearing on specials occasions like they know,” You lean back into the seat with a sigh, “Said that’s how she got married. Isn’t that crazy?”

Charlie purses his lips, tilting his head to the side before smiling, “Sounds magical. They’re the ‘true love’ bugs.” His smile widens into a grin.

“Exactly!” You snap your fingers with a nod, bumping your heel against the stone pavement.

“I’m sure they do appear out here though, don’t they come out at Midnight?” Charlie shivers while speaking, hugging the towel around himself tighter. You sympathize with a playful grin.

“Maybe. But well, you boys should get inside and warm up. We’ll try next time.”

“Nick! Are you gonna come and lay down?” He snaps out of his head, eyes darting to you and Charlie lying on the blanket though Charlie is trying to tap out from a leg lock you have him in.

He snorts in surprise, not missing a beat and closing the distance. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Nick! Help me~” Charlie wails before pinching your thigh, making you yelp and quickly let go.

“That is cheating!” You exclaim, rubbing your leg with a wince.

“All’s fair in war.” He snickers, reaching a hand out to Nick who takes it and sits down between you two.

It’s a nice silence between the three of you, you’re not sure who laid down first but you eventually followed. Nick has his arms wrapped around the two of you and you’ve glanced up at his face which shows contentment. You even met his gaze while peeking and it caught you off guard with how much his brown orbs were filled with much love and affection.

You reach a hand out towards Charlie and tussle at curls, making him whine in protest but lets you continue anyway. “I’m not good with constellations so you’re not gonna be getting that during this stargaze adventure.” You mumble against Nick with a laugh and it makes the other two chuckle.

“Nah, that’s alright… I’m happy with this…” You and Charlie freeze at how soft Nick’s voice sounds. Serene. Content. More than happy but not quite ecstatic. Filled with much love directed towards the two of you and it has your heart pounding.

You sit up on your elbow, making Nick’s arm slip off of you and he eyes you with suspicion. “Actually…” This would be way more comfortable on your knees so you sit up, tuck your calves beneath you and cuff Charlie’s face into your hands. It’s nearly laugh worthy of how quick his face turns a deep red and how you felt it happen under your touch.

You lean forward, careful not to face-plant into him – that would be awkward… and painful – pressing your lips against him. You both move into a soft but passionate rhythm. Your thumb brushes against his dusted cheeks, pressing hard against his lips one final time before moving back with a dazed grin.

He returns it, chuckling shyly before meeting Charlie’s intense gaze. You choke back a laugh with the swiftness of your friend sliding up a bit, hand softly cupping the side of Nick’s face and sharing their own kiss. Also very slow, and passionate. Your tilt your head up towards your house, eyeing the sliding door and sigh in relief to not see your Mom near it. By the time your gaze returns you’re meeting with the two boys staring at you with flushed faces.

“Oh my god, you’re so red.” You laugh.

“Shut up?” Charlie hands an arm over his face, probably burning up a bit more from the teasing.

The fireflies have died down, some still hanging around but you notice most are gone and a smile tugs at your lips. “Wanna go inside now?”

Charlie removes his arm with a sharp inhale and the two nod. “Do you need to bring the blanket in?” He points to the cloth when you all stand and you’re quick to shake your head.

“Nah. I’ll grab and wash it tomorrow,” You stretch your limbs, hearing some pop. “I need new bones…”

Nick sticks his tongue out in playful disgust, “That sounds horrific.”

“Wouldn’t that be crazy though? If we needed to trade in new bones when we’re old and seniors.”

“Y/N.” Charlie’s eyebrows bend and he grimaces, “Why do you come up with the most freaky scenarios.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah, like the apocalypse one from before.” Nick pitches in with a frown that falters into a smile.

You all step into the living room after you’re done turning off the lanterns and have grabbed your bottles, “Because my brain is so amazing that I just think of things you would never think of.” You make a gesture to your brain before wiggling your fingers like you’ve done a magic trick.

“Or so you say…” Charlie glances somewhere else before meeting your eyes, “Less would never think of more, shouldn’t think of.” He flicks his hand towards you, thumb and index finger out in a finger gun.

“Hey, these could be real life events soon to happen.”

“Yeah the bones theory would happen when we all become immortal.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes.

Then boom, jumpscare. Your Mom appears just as you’re settling on the couch. A screech leaves all of your mouths and she stares in shock with mild confusion and amusement.

“Hello to you three, too.” She giggles, walking over to the glass door, tugging the lock between the handle down and pulls the thick curtains down. “Enjoy stargazing?” She turns back around with a soft smile.

You three shift your gazes away. Apparently it wasn’t just you that still had the intimate moment in the back of your brain, huh? “Yeah, thanks Mom.”

If she noticed the slight awkwardness building up, she doesn’t mention it nor show it and instead clasps her hands together, “That’s wonderful! Dinner is finished so feel free to grab whatever you want. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” She fills you in on her own plan for the night which is pretty much staying in her room so you all have your own time. She then tilts her head, eyes spacing out until she perks up, “And then there’s brownies that are baking, should be finished soon. I set a timer so when you hear it please take it our for me, Y/N.”

You nod before frowning, “Why does it have to be me?” Apparently she didn’t understand from the confusion crossing her face. You then point to Charlie and Nick.

Charlie looks offended, “We are a guest?” but his tone is light.

“You practically live here? Your clothes are in my closet, mind you.” Nick and your Mom choke out a laugh while Charlie flares up, flustered.

“Nick’s are too?!”

“Which is why I included him in my pointing?!”

Two people are bickering, two people laughing at the scene. It doesn’t take long for you Mom to calm you both down, “It doesn’t matter who, it doesn’t matter if it’s all three of you. Please just don’t let them burn.” She chuckles a bit more before rubbing her hand against her collarbone to calm herself, “Have a great time. I’ll be in my room.” You all wave her ‘goodnight’ and she retreats upstairs.

You three share a silence. Then Nick speaks,

“…So what exactly are we doing? It seems you both are full of surprises today,” He wears a teasing look which makes you and Charlie look away.

“Don’t worry about it, mister. You enjoy the ride.” You talk first before nudging Charlie with your leg. “You put the movie on, I’ll go make our plates and...” You eye Nick for a moment not knowing what he should do.

“Nick, I put the backpack in Y/N’s room, could you go get it while we set up? Oh! The headbands too.” Charlie pitches in and grins at the mention of the headbands. You and Nick blink at him before standing up to dart down your own paths.

While you’re making the plates the oven timer does go off. You take a toothpick from one of the drawers, flick on the oven light, open the oven – making you flinch back from the heat – then poke the dark chocolate fudge goodness. It has baked all the way so you grab oven mitts and drag the pan of brownies out of it’s cooker, sets it on the stove and flick turn the oven off.

After making sure everything was set in the kitchen you grab two plates and exit the kitchen, back into the living room where the movie is paused on the TV right before it begins. Charlie stands up and helps grab the two plates, letting you dart back into the kitchen again for the last one just in time for Nick to return.

“Do you want drinks? We got juices, sodas, water, you name it.” You peak your head out behind the dining room wall and the two boys pause midway in putting on the barbie headbands. You bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

“Do you have that tropical mix?” Nick speaks and you nod, he points at you in affirmation of the drink then finishes adjusting the plastic accessory around his hair.

“Root beer, please.” Charlie speaks next before his eyes shine open and wide, “Do you think we can have floats…”

Your eyebrows perk up, “I think we have vanilla? But you’re not getting that till the brownies cool down.”

“Oh, they’re out? Thank Barbie.” He holds his hands up in a prayer.

You stare at him, very much unamused and he gives you a cheeky grin.

“I’ll have tropical juice for now then.”

With a thumbs up you return to the kitchen once more, grabbing three tall glass cups from the cabinet and grab the carton juice out the fridge. You fill up two cups before staring at your own. After deciding your choice of drink, you put everything away and startle while turning around and seeing Nick in the doorway.

“Sorry,” He smiles apologetically, walking up to you and grabbing the cups filled with juice that is his and Charlie’s. He catches you off guard once again, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before bounding off to the living room again.

“What the fuck.” You stand in oblivion, feeling your face heat up. You decide you won’t unpack that tonight, flicking off the kitchen light and rejoining your movie mates.

Nick and Charlie had switched spots to where the blond was in the middle like he had been all day and your boyfriend pats the free spot next to him. You comply, setting your cup on the table while sitting and you lean into Nick with a soft smile.

“You forgot this, kind ma’am.” Charlie grabs the plastic pink band and you lean forward. He puts it on carefully and leans back with a self-satisfied expression, grabbing the remote with a quite cheer. “Are we ready for the best movie night ever?”

You and Nick watch him with amusement, “Yes, Charles, we are.”

“Not Charles, I will fight you.” He shivers at the name.

“You call me Nicholas?” Nick speaks. It makes you laugh.

“It’s your real name.” He grins.

“Is Charles not your real name, Char?” You lift an eyebrow and he rolls his eyes, still wearing the grin.

“No, it is ‘Charlie “Char” Spring’.”

You let out an insufferable sigh.

“Y’know, Y/N has called me ‘Luke’ before.” Nick leans his head back with a scoff. This makes you have a full on belly laugh which makes Charlie react the same way. “Yes, yes laugh it away.” He sighs like he’s in pain.

It takes five minutes to calm down. You wipe a precious tear away, “It was on call too and he hung up. Would not answer for like, an hour.” You inhale deeply at the memory before laughing again.

“Should we start calling him Luke as a nickname?”

“Please, please don’t.” Nick squeezes the arm wrapped around Charlie’s waist with a pleading look.

“Awwe you can’t do that.” He pouts, reaching up to pinch Nick’s face.

“Dho wha?” He sounds funny with Charlie tugging at his face.

“The puppy eyed look. The doe eyes.” You bat your eyelashes at Nick when he eyes you from the corner of his eyes before rolling them.

“We’ve gone all dahy withosut this, nowh yuu wanna shtart?” Now he’s the one doing the insufferable sighing.

“It’s a daily mission.” Charlie nods, a serious expression crossing his looks – putting on an act. He then lets go and grabs the remote again, “Movie time!”

“Movie time!” You cheer afterwards.

You three are silent for a bit as the movie plays, you and Charlie cuddling into Nick. He plants soft kisses down your face and you flush a bit. Then he moves to Charlie, repeating the action, who giggles quietly and eyes Nick with a shy look. It makes you laugh under your breath and Charlie doesn’t miss it, pointing to you with a brow raised and expression saying, ‘Don’t laugh at me when you’re acting the same.’ You look away.

“Hey,�� Nick suddenly speaks up and the two of you look over. “Thanks for today. It really helped calm me down…” He continues to train his eyes on the TV but his ears burn from you and Charlie giving him your undivided attention. “And reassured me about a few things…” He purses his lips.

“Reassured?” Charlie asks quietly, as if afraid to make Nick snap his mouth shut and not speak again.

Nick sucks in a breath and you shiver from his fingers crawling up your arm. You watch Charlie lift his own hand and hold the arm wrapped around him.

“Yeah. Since everything felt like it was crashing down, I don’t know. It kinda made me feel… negative? About certain stuff. Between us. Not that I’m not happy, I’m more than thankful to be with you two but just like, how you both felt towards me…” His pursed lips flatten and your brows bend at the way his eyes dim.

“Breaking up with me for example because maybe you felt neglected or such. It made me so scared to think about I stopped responding to both of your messages most of the time and barely wanted to call because you know, what if one day you just went, ‘Yeah I don’t think we should be together,’ such and such.” You both stay quiet to let him speak his mind and you hate that he ever thought such things.

When Nick stays silent you take a sharp inhale, meeting eyes with Charlie’s glossed ones. The sight breaks your heart. “Nick…” You start off carefully and he looks over to you with so much exhaust. Slowly, you cuff his face – the same way you did outside – brushing your thumbs against him cheeks. Your right hand moves down, playfully you press your thumb against his bottom lip and smile gently.

“I’m sorry that you ever felt that way. It’s far from the truth, sweetheart.” He lets out an airy chuckle and you watch with adoration. “Y’know brains come up with the craziest scenarios when you’re stressed and it’s annoying, and stupid.” You huff, left hand moving against his cheek and he leans into the touch. Your thumb and index finger latch onto his ear and you pinch it lightly. “Do you know that, that would never happen unless you came to me asking for such a thing?” You pucker out your lips.

He watches you in a daze before laughing. “Do you know that would never happen?” Then he turns to Charlie with a soft look. “And you, Char?”

Charlie rubs at his reddening eyes and inhales. He then nods, opening his mouth before faltering. You both give him and moment and he closes his eyes in frustration before heaving out a sigh. Concern is evident in both of your expressions but Charlie opens his eyes with a new look of determination, straight at Nick.

He smacks his hands against Nick’s shoulders which makes the latter’s mouth hang open in surprise. “Nick. I love you. A lot. It hurts to know that you were dealing with these emotions, but know I’m not blaming you. How could I? It’s not your fault. Never feel bad for needing to take your time to sort out your own feelings and what’s going on with yourself. We’d never blame you for that because in the end, you know we have you, right?”

Nick nods and you can see his own eyes get glossy as well. Charlie then looks at you, “I love you too, Y/N, don’t tell Tao but you’re my bestfriend.” He chuckles, wiping at his eye again and you wipe at your owns.

“Hey, he can be your guy bestfriend and we wouldn’t have to fight over titles.” You wink, before leaning to Nick and kissing him softly. “I love you both, very much so. I’m glad you were able to talk to us, Nick.”

“Was that your goal today?” He grins in a joking manner, tilting his head in the crook of Charlie’s neck while entangling his fingers with yours.

“Did it work?” Charlie sniffles a bit before laughing. You laugh as well, “This is ridiculous we’re supposed to be watching Barbie and now we’re sobbing.”

“I give up.” You throw your head back, side eyeing the TV.

“Nooo, don’t give up.” Nicks chuckles before sitting upright. “We can still watch… we should probably eat too.” He points to the lonely plates on the table.

“True.” You and Charlie agree. You three take a moment to collect yourselves with a few embarrassed laughs here and there before settling back down.

“What’s in the bag, by the way?” You gesture to the backpack under the coffee table as Charlie rewinds the movie back to the beginning. He glances down.

“Snacks.”

“It’s good.” You hum in approval, taking a bite of your food. The three of you enjoy the movie and dinner, later on making those root beer floats paired with the brownies. Charlie had explained to Nick that he was texting Sahar about the Barbie Movie and she told him she went with Imogen. Apparently, Imogen gives the movie a 2/10 because she messed up her outfit at the theaters.

“That’s terrible.” Nick stares at Charlie in shock but it doesn’t last long with the way his lips curve into a smirk, “That’s not her real rating though, is it?”

“Of course not, she loved it.” Charlie laughs.

You’ve been quiet this whole time but suddenly loll your head to face them. Nick already giving you an exasperated look when you got their attention. “Nick. Your new name in my phone is Ken Nelson.”

#.my writing #heartstopper x reader #heartstopper x f!reader #heartstopper x fem reader #heartstopper x fem!reader #i didnt do my typical ‘small text big text at the end’ its too much writing 💀#i rlly dont fully like this but !! didnt wanna keep it stuck in the drafts #again LOTTS of writing im sorry Jfhfjfke #nick and charlie x f!reader #nick and charlie x female reader #technically…#nick nelson x reader #nick nelson x female reader #nick nelson x f!reader #nick nelson x fem reader #nick nelson x fem!reader #right?

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yesiknowimshort · 1 year

Text

this is how i imagine… TIM DRAKE

the bitch is back…. i mean me not tim, but tim is also a bitch.

thank you so much to my followers (i love each and everyone of you <3) for waiting so patiently for me to get myself together (still shaky, so again, posts might be scattered but i will be posting!!).

i wanna start a series where i do these long form character headcanons for the batboys (and maybe girls one day, i’ve just not thought about it aha) and so i obviously had to start with my favourite character of all tjme; tim drake.

obvisouly i’ve already done a suuuuper long analysis of his actual character which you can read here, but i want to do a more theoretical one that’s not necessarily wholly “canonical” but still in character.

a lot of this is also canon/inspired by canon - however, these are still my headcanons.

- to start off with: fuck the uwu-fication of tim drake. he’s a badass who happens to also appear soft sometimes but that does not equal wimp. you can have anxiety and depression and not be a an uwu baby.

- absolutely obsessed with star wars.

- has forced everyone to individually binge the series with him at least once.

- but also love island (he won’t watch the winter season tho) and the real housewives are definitely his guilty pleasures.

- overworks himself on such little sleep that his body giving up and him fainting is a scarily regular occurrence.

- but it’s not for want of trying. oh no. forgot to eat because he was distracted so his limbs are barley holding him up when he runs? ignores it. keeps going.

- he stands up too quickly, collapses, and gets right up and walks it off like he wasn’t just on the floor (p.e teachers would love him).

- absolutely insane martial artist -which people (like most things he can do/does) completely overlook or just don’t care about. this is also canon btw.

- my boy’s only scraping average height -he’s gotta have something to back him up that’s doesn’t rely on being massive n buff.

- he can easily knock anyone to the ground in a second, yet because of his small build and mmmm relatively unhealthy state, it goes unnoticed and sometimes unused -depending on the situation’s needs.

- people always overlook him because of his public persona (and in real life online it’s usually because of uwu tim), but he would be so cruel sometimes.

- seriously -please remember and use his pettiness!

- like he’d punch jason out cold for picking up his stuff and holding it over his head… put itching powder in dick’s boxers and bed for hiding the cases he was working on… roofy damian’s nightly hot chocolate so he’d miss family movie night because damian was pissing him off… true slytherin.

- but just like a lot of the things he does, it goes unnoticed/un-delt-with most of the time so he gets away with it. middle child tings.

- not to mention he literally stalked batman and would run around solving murders and dropping off the evidence to gordon before even being a robin.

- he was on the CIA’s watch list for crying out loud!

- doesn’t break the unassuming facade often, but if he went off the deep end, he’d be gone, and wouldn’t stop until he’s satisfied -or restrained (but that would be near impossible).

- scarily persuasive -some would say manipulative, i would say ambitious. i mean he did wiggle his way into the position of robin with sheer willpower.

- i think one of the reasons i love tim so much and am so fascinated by him is because of his capacity to be a villain so easily if he wanted.

- the guy has considered murder way too often.

- clint barton’s “i could do it!... no one would know!... but i won’t” quip about quicksilver is literally tim’s relationship with villiany.

- like if he decided one day to turn on everyone… in an instant he has control of a multimillion dollar company, can easily gain control the police, has dirt on every single person, and access to anything he decides he wants: and yet he chooses to do good.

- remember -he chose to be a hero. and he repeats this fact a lot.

- he could easily have the world on their knees, and yet people still decide to fuck with him because of their naivety.

- villain tim would be terrifying.

- his childhood and a openly loving and attentive family setting was stolen from him. he was always made out to be “mature for his age” and “quiet and sensible” when in reality he was just neglected and bored.

- being a gifted child always comes with its downfalls. like being so unstimulated by his schooling and classmates that he acts out a little bit out of boredom and a craving for attention from his parents; not to mention the social rejection because he’s too far past his peer's antics.

- he’d be super socially unaware for his age group as a child (kind of like damian i guess). being an only child surrounded by adults (yet forever alone and isolated) would’ve prevented him from ever connecting with fellow kids and their interests.

- (anyone else relate to not ever finding kiddy humour funny in primary school?)

- so now he likes doing a lot of random “childish” things like skating down the halls in the manor, having a gamer chair as his office chair, playing his nintendo switch in his wayne ent. office with his feet rested on the desk when he’s bored, having bento box lunches filled with sugary cereal and roll-ups, having a mini fridge in his office exclusively filled with yakults, iced coffee cartons and redbull, being fully versed in gen z lingo (which he uses correctly don’t worry) that he uses to talk to people he works with and interacts with at galas etc etc.

- likes to leave little notes in library books for the next person to find; often mildly threatening like “i know what you did”, for no other reason other than to have a little gremlin cackle to himself when he thinks about it.

- definitely has nearsightedness, though he hardly ever wears his glasses “because they’re impractical and contacts are torture devices” (bruce practically has to strap him down to get the camera contacts in for patrol).

- when he’s not drinking coffee, he’s chewing gum or mints to counteract the coffee.

- ambidextrous, but favours his left hand meaning his already inconceivably messy quick notes are also smudged by his hand.

- hands are always cold and numb (leading everyone to believe he probably has rayynaud’s syndrome).

- he gets really nervous and tries to avoid people being able to touch his hands, like when they’re handing something to him, or makes sure handshakes are firm and quick -but still respectful- etc (but he loves hand holding, he just worries no one would want to).

- really good at taking in information and his surroundings quickly.

- often points things out to people that would otherwise go unnoticed like “your eyes look really pretty today” or “your freckles have darkened from the sun” or “they ordered two sugars with their coffee… they always order three” etc.

- he doesn’t constantly say the things he’s thinking, but they come out a lot more when he’s losing his filter from fatigue.

- he’s always apologising offhandedly for pointing out things (more annoyed at himself than anything) bc he thinks they’ll think he’s weird or become uncomfortable.

- tim is allergic to almost all nuts except for almonds (wog runs through my veins, i refuse to believe he can’t eat almonds).

- he’s not like epipen allergic, all he needs is some cetirizine.

- bc of this “relatively low risk” (as he would say), if he accidentally eats a nut he’ll usually just not tell anyone while his throat is closing over and his mouth feels like it’s been attacked by mosquitoes.

- he’ll just silently slip away to buy some cetirizine or get some from his pocket/bag.

- this sweet old lady at a charity bake sale once offered tim to try a free slice of her baklava, which of course, has walnuts in it.

- and he was too anxious to refuse so he took it and finished the whole thing in front of her.

- it took him about 20 minutes and to the point where he was crying and his lips looked like they had fillers that he whispered to bruce he was having a reaction.

- bruce was hysterical.

- like- national news “funny internet clip report” hysterical.

- he always carries cetirizine on him now just in case tim does that again.

#dc comics #incorrect dc comics #incorrect batfam #tim drake #batfam #batfamily #batboys #red robin #dc headcanon #headcanon #tim drake x reader #headcanons

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firefly--bright · 6 months

Text

peeks and blinders (you know me)

jean kirstein x gender neutral! reader, modern au

summary : being loved required patience and time and hope. luckily, jean provided all of them, without hesitation.

warnings : feelings of being deeply alone, heavy, hurt/comfort but mostly hurt, reader might sort of have depression

a/n : aha. lol. lmao. uhmmm yeah this is incredibly self indulgent and a projection. if you relate to this please PLEASE know that you're a) not alone and also b) I'm here if you ever need anyone to talk to. i wrote this with an unhappy ending in mind but with the poll results (and let's be honest, the aot finale) I decided to make it a happy ending instead. don't worry, everything works out in the end. this fic might just be terrible if you're already sad, so reader discretion is advised! i dont expect anyone to read the whole thing!!! but if you do read it, I hope you like it because I spent way too long on it. the ending might've been a little rushed only because I wanted to get this out as soon as possible so I could move on with a new fic idea ;)

taglist : @mrsnobodynobody @holding-infinity-and-a-book @jeanscremebrulee (side note- thank you for the kind words in my taglist form's criticism/comments question. i truly, deeply appreciate it :) )

masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ requests are open! ✿ likes and reblogs are appreciated! ✿ join my taglist ✿

✿ recommended playlist to listen to while reading ✿

living with someone meant showing yourself, something you weren't afraid of. well, not afraid, more just apprehensive. there was too much of a potential to fucking up a relationship; showing yourself too much in the one place you're allowed to be yourself without restrictions and limitations. you love your friends, you love jean, but sometimes the quietness of being alone was more than welcome because it had to be.

so when jean asked you with eyes that didn't meet your own if you wanted to move in with him, you didn't answer. quiet literally, you paused from eating the slice of pizza in your hand. he continued on with his nervous 'making-up-for-the-lack-of-response' ramble, explaining how you technically already lived together, how he liked finding your toothbrush next to his, and reluctantly admitted that he sometimes used your soap when he wanted to have a good day. a speech that warmed you despite your answer.

because no matter how comfortable you'd be with anyone, sharing the same space with them was a different kind quiet, unrelenting vulnerability. the fact that you existed and let someone percieve you without hinderance was...too much to think about. you had been alone your whole life, not in a pitiable way, but in a way where you didn't have a childhood best friend. you didn't have people stick around, like you were only at a corssroad of people's lives and greeted them with familiarity and comfort that they'd craved, despite your want and desire for it yourself. they'd continue on with their path while you would sit there, patiently, passing time.

jean admitted it to you. indirectly, he had confessed that he wanted to see you vulnerable and bare open in a way that people wouldn't know you normally. in a way where you were simply a locked window that noone had the key to. but there wasn't anything special to hide, no great overview of the city or the sea or rolling hills and valleys and large fields. no, just an unimpressive view of an unmowed backyard. untamed and messy - again, nothing special. just years of neglect while also being looked at. nothing special.

you didn't want him to see it. and technically, he asked you. you stopped spiralling just as he started his own, realising the effect your non verbal answer had on him, you simply said "I'll think about it." and tried to crack jokes along until the end of the night. because if nothing, then jean deserved some peace to balance out the turbulence that came with loving you.

in all honesty, you didn't know what you did. how you comitted the monsterous feat of getting him to love you. how he loved you in your entirety (or lack of it), how he woke up everyday and chose to love you despite everything that you took from him, drawing out his grumbling patience and gentleness because loving you meant waiting. loving you always, somehow, meant not loving you, because there was no way someone would know you, all your stories and opinions and ideas and still choose to love you.

living with you meant knowing your anatomy. not of your physical, breathing body, but the inside of your organs. it meant knowing that your stomach was filled with guilt, that your mouth could only utter whispers of people who once loved you and 'im sorries' to someone who won't know. it meant knowing that your hands were always aching to be held, that your skin was only ever warm when it was loved. it meant knowing that your chest was always heaving, yearning for a breath of relief that would never arrive. it meant knowing that your eyes always wandered off to the weighing scale kept at the back of your closet, always wandered off to find another pair of eyes that would look similar to yours. it meant knowing that your hair was always knotted with the doubts your mouth would never ask. it meant knowing so much about you, about the grey matter in your brain and about what flowed through your veins was nothing but pure doubt and discomfort with the unholy temple that was your body, the temple without a god, the temple that noone went back to. a body without a home.

he wouldn't want to know. he shouldn't want to know, and more importantly, he wouldn't like finding out. it would either be too much or too little, and his fingers would cramp up with the effort it took for him to pry you open, only for no prize to be met with. besides, you were okay just talking to yourself, no matter how insane it sounded. you got through so many years being self-sufficient, right? you didn't know how to handle it, handle someone actually loving you without doubt. you had lived long enough without it. someone loving you was new, something you didn't have a map for, something you didn't have any precautions against.

you and jean slept together that night. in the same bed, breathing the same air, under the same covers. you didn't share the same sleep, however, as his mind made dreams and yours went on like an unfinished painting - a list of unfullfilled answers, no meanings, trying and failing to come together. you found yourself watching him breathe; just his chest moving up and down and up and down, your hands twiching to rest on top of his but you didn't know if that's where they'd belong. if his body would wake itself up because of your touch - everyone was always surprised by how cold your fingers were. you were used to it.

maybe living with him wouldn't be that bad, right? as he said, you already shared the same space to a point where the pair of you felt comfortable enough to not care if your hair was groomed perfectly or if the colours and patterns of your outfit were clashing. but would he like it? would he like just how much more comfortable you could get? just how much you could ask for? just how long you could lock yourself up in the bathroom and try to cry? would he like to know just how long you sometimes spent on your bed, refusing to get up because your heart felt too heavy for your chest? for when your heart felt like it could fall through your back, punch a hole through the ground and bury itself in the earth until it could somehow bonify and fossilize and archeologists would recognise, instantly, that it didn't belong there.

he'd leave. that was something you knew for a fact. your love wouldn't be wasted, ofcourse not, neither would the time, but maybe he'd leave feeling like he'd wasted himself at your expense. or maybe he wouldn't think about you at all.

your night was spent with your brain spiralling - thoughts about how you didn't know how to handle being loved the way he loved you, about how you probably never had a childhood best friend that was still in your life because the phases of your life weren't meant for anyone but yourself to see, about how much your hair fell due to the stress of distracting yourself from overwhelming sadness by studying and creating while also being only slightly average at it. you fell asleep thinking about how the abundance of being alone, to you, meant being not alone at all, because there was no differenciation of company and lonlieness because there hadnt been any company to remind you of the lonliness at all- your eyes had fluttered closed and breathing evened.

jean always wondered if you were hiding something from him. not in a bad way, not in the way where he couldn't say he loves you, but in the way where you'd hesitate. and if he didn't love you as much, he probably wouldn't have even noticed. but fortunately, he did know you. a little too well.

he knew how much you loved the crunchy autumn leaves, so much so that you would alter your paths just to crunch one under your boot, a smile of satisfaction gracing your face after hearing the noise it made. he knew how much your fingers would reach out for his. he knew how much you tried - with everything. he knew of your unsaid struggles, knew when and what made your mood sour. and he loved it, he loved the fact that he knew all of those thing but more importantly, loved that he loved them.

loving you felt like it was a built-in feature.

but despite all of this, he didn't know why. he didn't know why you were the way you were. he knew you tried, but he didn't know why. he knew you struggled, but didn't know why. and it was driving him crazy, especially after last night. he couldn't help himself, even if he could see you, again, trying to diffuse the situation with lighthearted jokes, he couldn't help but think a little too much.

did you not want to? jean had always been honest about how much he struggled with being either too much or too little, about how much the words hurled by his friends when he was young hurt him, about how much his love proved to be uncomfortable and silent and resigned. maybe his honesty was too much for you. maybe you didn't like the burdens he came with, maybe you didn't like knowing how much his father's absence had affected him, or about how much his previous partner altered the way he saw himself to a miserable extent. you hadn't asked for all of this, all of him, all of his parts. maybe you were getting sick of it.

or maybe, if Jean's knowledge about you served right, you were being hesitant again.

he swears he doesn't mind it. you not wanting to move in with him wasn't a problem, but he just wished he knew why. the whole day, the only thing on his mind was how he could feel less hesitant towards him, god, anyone but him. he knew, firsthand, how it felt being so overwhelmed by inconsequencial doubt where he was left with so many regrettable unanswered questions engraved into the palm of his hands because he kept them hidden in his fist for too long, where he wishes, prays, and hopes for an answer that he knows will never arrive even if he doesn't look for it.

there are many things jean wishes and prays and hopes for. you're not one of them. but only because you're here. he doesn't need any other wish to be fulfilled or prayer to be answered or hope to sparkle. you are, inadvertently, all of them. a love without doubt, a wish without a cost, a prayer without a sacrifice, a hope without desperation. you're all of them. you're everything.

but he knows that if he's hesitant this time, if he doesn't reach out to grab you, if he doesn't do something, no matter how desperate, he will most ceratinly feel a deeper regret than he has ever felt before. and yes he may be exxagerating it, but he doesn't care. he'd learnt not to care when he was with you - he's learnt to be comfortable with you and around you. he wants to tell you that it's okay if you don't want to move in with him because his home is wherever you would be, his home is his hand on your thigh, his home is watching you blink in thought, his home is the sound of your footsteps. his home is anywhere with you. you are the only person who has the right to know that.

he makes his familiar way over to your apartment. you're not home yet, sasha informs him with a sleepy voice and messed up hair, "but you can wait in their room." she says because everyone knows that you wouldn't mind him waiting in your room. including him.

he does your routine - the one he's seen you do countless of times when you enter your room - take off his coat and hang it on the back of your door where one of the hooks is kept empty for him, shoulder his bag off and put it down on the spot next to your desk, turn on the desk lamp and the night lamp because you refused to turn the overhead lights on, because "they are so hideous why would I want to turn them on," according to you, and then finally occupy the space on your bed, laying his back down and his hands resting on his stomach as he waited for you.

staring at the cracking paint on the ceiling of your bedroom, jean thinks. from his pending homework that he's mentally figuring out how to schedule to how he's going to conduct this new group project with people he has never talked to before to how is it already the second last year of University because it felt like the first day was yesterday, until finally his thoughts landed on you. of course it would always lead to you.

it started from him thinking about University, then about how he met you on the second day, seeing you in one of his classes, sitting diagonaly across him, how you conducted yourself, slipping your bag off and checking your phone. then it turned to him seeing you at the freshers party where he saw his now ex-partner with someone he knew he shouldve questioned more. how he stormed off of the party with half tears of sadness and half of anger, catching a glimpse of you in the corner of the room, looking kind of lost. he saw you multiple times after that but never talked to you. he saw you at an ice-cream parlor once. he wanted to talk to you, but Connie had loudly confirmed the tickets to this new concert, which took away Jean's attention from you. but then he was introduced to you by Marco, because of course it would be Marco who had the pleasure to befriend amazing people. he met you then, properly, when you introduced yourself, and he nodded at you with little regard.

jean shook his head with a little smile. he had been so stupid, that day. he barely looked in your direction as you got acquainted with Marco, Connie and sasha, but he didn't disregard the fact that you looked less lost than you were at the party.

you had a way of sticking around, jean found out after that. he didn't realise when you had slipped into his life, hiding in plain sight. one night he found himself awake the same time as you and the next, he found himself saving a seat for you in the class you shared with him. soon enough, you knew him as well as he knew you, and there was softness in the recognition your eyes held when they met with his. the same appreciation of his existence, something he hadn't felt before. he couldn't say that he knew you as well as the back of his hand, because really, he knew you like the back of your hand, because he'd looked at your hands more than he'd ever looked at his, noticing all the little creases and scars and veins and hairs. he knew what warmth they held, he'd felt it after your hands made their way into his while walking back to your dorm on a cold night. a night jean would never forget because he had frantically knocked on your door right after leaving you there, because his senses had finally worked and he had finally found out that he wanted to kiss you. and he did, and you kissed back, and jean swore he had never been happier even while he could hear sasha and Connie and Marco cheering for the both of you. he kissed your forehead as a goodnight that night. you were in his shirt.

you were his home before he even knew what his home was, before he could find out for himself. you became an answer with a question.

he sighed, hearing your footsteps make their way through the tiny apartment, saying a small "hi," to sasha who was sleeping on the couch. the door to your room swung open just as jean sat up, his weight resting on his forearms on your mattress. you didn't seem surprised that he was there, just flashing a smile at him before removing your bag and placing it down, and jean felt his heart flutter with comfort as your presence filled the room.

his eyes trailed you as you did the same thing he did a few moments ago, plopping yourself down right next to him. your breathing evened out with his as the two of you lay in silent comfort before jean spoke.

his voice was a low hum. the words were barely different, but you understood them anyway. "yknow you can talk to me about anything, right? even if it's sad or not funny or not...I don't know, not remarkable. you can say it. i won't laugh unless you want me to." he says. it's a flimsy promise, but you know his words hold a meaning that you can't quiet grasp.

his palm lays on top of the back of your hand.

he's warm. scarily so, because why would someone hold so much warmth towards you? more importantly, jean extended his hand without even meaning to, like muscle memory, which was, again, terrifying, because loving you as habitual purpose was scarier than you having to prove yourself for it.

your shoulders relax almost instantly; habitually and with purpose. was the purpose of it to not have a purpose at all? was the meaning of your being to not have any meaning at all? was it just to love despite it?

you wanted to do good. not in a special or overly remarkable way, because you knew you would never reach that mark because you never had, but in the way where you'd be recognized. in crowded rooms, you'd be sought out for because of your "goodness" - be it reliability, comfort, all the things you usually associated with jean. which was ironic, because noone who didn't know him like you did would ever think of jean in that way.

"i.." you say, trailing off. you want to say that you know, but it'd be a lie. it'd be a false promise, and jean didn't need that any more than he needed you. so you say, "I'll keep that in mind."

jean doesn't buy it. his hand squeezes yours, stubbornly. "no, i don't want you to keep that in mind, I want you to want to do it." he says. his head turns towards you, watching the side of your face with an expression you know better than anything. the slight furrow of his brows, slightest scowl on his face that was masked by a layer of genuine concern.

"what I mean is.... you don't have to be so hesitant with me." he says. you want to blink back surprise, except that it's not really surprising. he's seen you, more so than anyone ever has, so it's not surprising that he'd see if one day was affecting you worse than the other days. it makes you want to scream because you don't know how to deal with it.

you close your eyes as if that would help. it wasn't like you were good at running away from affection, mostly because you never needed to. if anything, you were used to running towards it, desperately, just trying. but here it was, now, the resolution of it all, of all of the aches and creakings of your deepest yearnings, yet you couldn't seem to look at it. look at him - at jean, your best friend, someone you'd do anything for - with eyes that matched his.

you sigh. there's a deep silence, and jean isn't anticipating anything. his hand is still on yours and he feels you squeeze it tightly, but he isn't going anywhere for you to hold on to him. even if he wasn't tethered to you, he'd want to stay by your side, without any precautions or promise of a fruitful result. he'd stay with you regardless.

he isn't waiting for you to say anything, because being with you feels more than adequate, like it's instinct, like his shoulders relaxing when it's just the two of you, or like that tingly feeling in his chest when you kiss his cheek after a long day.

but when you do speak, it's with resignation and certain grief. "i dont think you'll like me. if I... if we move in together, I think, realistically, you won't like it."

"how can you be so sure?" he asks. it's not a serious question, but he thinks it's a start. you're doing it, you're being less hesitant, and atleast that's somewhere to begin.

"i just am." you say, shrugging. but it's not a fact, atleast, it shouldn't be. it isn't to jean. he's rolling his eyes now, but he's not annoyed or digusted. "how?" he presses, because he knows there's more, there always had been with you.

"i get too much. and then too little. like none of it is ever just right. and I'm scared that you'll see it and...I don't know, get frustrated at my lack of everything." you say. there's truth in every word even though you desperately wish there wasn't. you're still hesitating, but it's less so. your hand is still in his, still squeezing it. it was predictable - something you found yourself relying on - the warmth of his palm and the way his hand would also engulf yours with the same echoing softness it always had. even if his fingers were calloused and a little rough, it didn't matter. they still held you the same.

he's clinging onto every word you're saying, every small explanation, every twitch of your eyebrows. he knows what's going to come, he knows there's going to be an admission of guilt coming on soon enough but he also knows, more importantly, that he'll be there to tell you that no, he does not regret loving you, and yes, he will keep doing it over and over and over again.

"I've never been... wanted like this. or like anything, I guess. and I'm so scared," you breathe in deeply, keeping your tears at bay. jean pushed himself onto his forearm, looking at you in a way you've never been looked at before. "I'm so scared of disappointing you because I think that's all I've ever done. that's all I know how to do." the box is open now, and it's not forced or pried with effort. jean has always known how to open it, you think, you just didn't let him. he does it now, with the same hands you find comfort in, the same gentleness that his eyes have always held for you.

you're crying. you don't have anything else to add to your statements, and they hang in the air as if waiting for you to complete them, expecting you to do something. but you don't and you can't and jean is holding you, his hands are at your sides and your nose is buried into his shoulder and you think the words and the expectations can wait for now, or for however long jean is willing to take care of you.

your shoulders shake. jean is whispering into your ear, asking you to breathe. he's saying it so kindly that you feel the need to comply, and when your lungs finally calm, he rewards you with a kiss on your forehead.

you think if how much of a liability all of this is. about how much you weigh in emotions when you're this open and vulnerable. not even like an open, unhealing wound, but more like that feeling you get when you finally decide to read an unread text message that had been sitting there for a month, but you're the person who both sent the text and also the one replying to it and also the one who was watching it unfold. you caused this, you were the only one who was replying, and you were also the witness to all of this.

but now jean was here. it was unusal and strange - someone being there, actually, physically and mentally present instead of those placating "you'll get over its" that were repeated to you by the few people you decided to open up to.

the two of you are silent now, only broken up by deep, almost heaving breaths from you, something you wish you would stop doing. instead of you digging your nails into your palms like all the other times, your nails are clinging onto jeans clothes, and he doesn't seem to mind. instead of it being your blankets like all the other times, it was Jean's soft heat wrapped around you, moving with each breath you took until your chest didn't feel as heavy anymore.

"i know." he says, finally. he doesn't expect you to answer, ofcourse, but he knows you're listening because you shift slightly in his arms. "i know...too well, what it's like. i know that moving in means more to you than it means to people in general. i know that it's not even about moving in together. i.." he's being hesitant. finding the right words, but for once, Jean's happy about this trait of his. he's glad he rethinks decisions and the next time when he tries again, he's more sure of it. hes sure that he loves you, hes sure that he wasn't made to love you but he grew into it because there's that choosing again, the fact that yes, he did probably have a choice, but he would never even consider it. he doesn't want to consider it and maybe that's more important than there even being a choice. he wishes he could put it into words that would make sense.

instead, he opts to say, "I am so sorry you had to think all of this all alone for so long. but I'm...I'm here now. i know that won't solve everything instantly, ofcourse it won't, but I will be here until it will. i will wait."

there's promise in his voice, a conviction that you hadn't heard before. you trust him, you always have, but you don't know if you trust yourself with this. you don't trust yourself to be someone he loves. he's quick to quiet your concerns after yet another peck on your forehead.

"but don't you think I take too much?" you ask. its doubtful, the steps you're taking on the usually thick ice that has turned too thin too fast. you're afraid you're going to offend him, but you stand no chance against Jean's all-knowing sigh. it's not a tired sound, not one anyone gives before they're about to give up. you're not sure what kind of sigh it is, but jean doesn't let you figure it out for yourself because he's answering.

the ice turns into concrete. he's become your footing, the reason you're still standing and not under numerous feet of cold water. "i dont think you're taking. your....your love doesn't ask to take. you love despite everything, not because of it. everyone, including me, focuses on how to be loved, on how to be a perfect image that probably won't last for too long, but you..... you focus on shaping your love, the love you give. i dont know if you've noticed it, but you do. you don't take too much, you give without expectations. you give with hope. it's beautiful." he pauses. "you're beautiful." he says. he's not looking anywhere else but your eyes that are welling up with familiar tears.

you suck in a breath. "im not used to sweet words, jean," you say, the breath you held releasing with a bittersweet smile. "i dont know how to handle all of this love you're giving me. i think... i think you love me too much." another tear down your cheek and onto the mattress. jean wipes away it's remnants.

"i dont love you nearly enough." he says with the same laugh you had given him, "but you'll grow into it. just like how you grew into everything else, you'll grow into being loved. i grew into it too," he says. his forehead touches yours. the proximity makes you shiver. "i grew into just how much you love me. and I wanna keep growing into it because I love loving you. i love you loving me, as selfish as it sounds."

you take a moment to register his words. yes, you weren't used to being so vehemently and stubbornly loved and taken care of, but you could. you could get used to it, get used to crying in your beloved's arms, being fed spoonfuls of carefully heated up soup that would settle into your belly, being looked at for more than a split second. you couldn't fathom it now, sure, only because you could've never believed it before, but that could change. you could grow into loving love, into accepting it just as freely as you had given it.

jean wasn't holding you with a death grip because he knew that you wouldn't leave, atleast, he didn'tanymore. he would've done it, he had all the reasons to. if he were still fifeteen, he would've thought that he had to come beg and cling on to love to make it stay. he had to do something spectacular, something entirely not himself in order to prove that he was atleast worth giving a try but with you...he didn't have to beg. he didn't even have to ask. for a while it felt undeserved, all of this care you were giving his somehow beating heart, all of this ointment you were providing to his broken bones, but he somehow, miraculously, grew into it, because he let you in. he let you see him with the eyes that would rival the ones he was sure the gods had, he let you see him and all his unknown and unsaid sins and let you love him anyway because you wanted to, because you didn't see something in him - a potential of something greater - but you saw him as he was. as he is. and nothing in your smile changed. and if you could do that, then he'd be damned if he didn't love you the same.

no words were said after that, only Jean's heartbeat mingling with your own in your ear. both of your eyes were closed, his hands relaxed on your back, your chest no longer heaving, commanding you to pay attention to it.

you fell asleep in the silence of promise.

---

the promise continued even a week later, turning into two, turning into four, wherein jean kept loving you despite and because of, unafraid and unwavering and for the first time, without any hesitance.

you were keeping up on your promise too. trying to accept it - all of this affection, his affection - without hesitance. it was hard but mundane things usually are and you continued to grow and mend and try, above all else, which was more than jean hoped for.

he's passing you the brush he had slathered the perfect amount of toothpaste on, slipping into the comfort of the cool night warmed by the heat of your previously taken shower in your bathroom. you smile at him as a thanks, and he nods as a welcome, and no words are spoken. no words need to be spoken, and his right hand makes its way to the small of your back, his left brushing his teeth as you start brushing yours and you think that maybe everything is uncertain. everything always has been and always will be, and loving someone has always been uncertain, too. being loved has always come with doubt and guilt and shame. but the only difference was that now, both of you hoped. you hoped that everything would be alright in the end, jean hoped that he'd get to share the same bed as you in the end.

hope was flimsy and hopeless, too optimistic, but now it served as something you both shared. the shared sentiment of hoping that you'd have eachother till the end was more important than the uncertainty. it meant that both of you would keep trying. you don't need to be sitting, waiting patiently and hopelessly at the same crossroad now, because Jean's hand is on the small of your back, the watch on his wrist is still and unticking, and you're walking down the same road with the same landmarks and the same gravel because you want to. you've moved from your old spot on the pavement because you want to. you're learning how to love the sound of your own footsteps, how to love the action of one foot infront of the other, and the best part is, Jean's learning too.

loving isn't a reciprocal or a transaction or a grand 'aha!' it's an act of hope. hoping they'll see you the same. hoping they'll have the same hopes as you. hoping they'll want to be loved by you, because hope doesn't require anything grand, hoping doesn't require a god to pray to or a cost to pay. it requires soft, undettered, unsaid patience. something jean, persistently, had. something you, stubbornly, held.

you paused from brushing your teeth to look at your love. you were wearing his old t-shirt that had faint stains of ink and old paint on it, and he was donning the headband you had owned for years to keep his hair out of his face. he glances at you through the mirror, then turns to you, nodding to you, eyebrows arching in a question.

you spit out the toothpaste into the sink. looking back to him, you say, with all the conviction and hope you can muster up, "I want to move in with you."

jeans mouth turns upwards, still full of toothpaste. he doesn't say anything. he doesn't need to say anything.

everything's already been said, already been understood.

because he knows you. and he couldn't be more happier to.

(when you pick the curtains for your new home, you are held up by jean, who's hands grasp the ladder you're on. you're looking down on him after the work is done and he's smiling, and you're smiling, and at night you're using the same stove to make the same dinner that the two of you will share along with some old wine and old stories. he holds you when you fall asleep, and your arms are around his torso as he snores softly. your love is stored in the blood of his veins. his love is stored in the palm of your hands, and even if you don't hold it, it still stays there, unmoving, growing, attached.)

✿

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x you #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #jean kirschtein

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totisviribus · 1 year

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An ADHD Morning

I set seven alarms so I don't oversleep. I couldn't sleep last night because I was researching ancient Rome on Wikipedia until 2am so I am bleary tired. My coffee maker is moldy from last week's brew and I don't even consider cleaning it, I just know that I won't be having coffee this morning.

I forgot to shower the night before, but now I don't have enough time to do it this morning, I got up too late. I use dry shampoo and hope my hair doesn't look greasy (it does). I scrape it into a messy pony tail that will give me a migraine but it's the only way it looks acceptable. My finger nails are stumps of dried blood because I picked at them all night. The inside of my lip is swollen and bleeding because I couldn't stop chewing on it, thinking about how I could ruin today. My eyebrows need to be plucked. My face is covered in acne because I never remember to take my makeup off before I fall asleep.

My bedroom is a sea of clothes, piled high to obscure the wooden floors. One hamper has some clean clothes in it, I know, but I have forgotten which one. My ironing board is under the piles somewhere, but it's broken, so I'll have to try to use the anti-wrinkle spray on the sweater I fish off the floor and hope it looks okay. It's already been forty minutes, how has the time passed this way? I will be late now, no hope of arriving on time. My sweater is covered in cat hair. Where is the lint roller? I look through the piles and can't find it. I spend ten minutes looking for tape to make a make-shift lint roller and it doesn't really work.

My dresser is filled with empty makeup tubes, used makeup wipes, glasses wipes, and used lint roller sheets. I pick out the products I use and quickly do my makeup on my unclean skin.

Purse. I need my purse. Which purse did I use last? Which has my wallet in it? I walk past the piles on the floor of my apartment, past the dirty dishes, past the mound of art supplies on my desk. I find my purse on the floor under my desk. Okay.

Socks? I need socks. My socks might show when I sit down in these too-tight too-short pants. I have to find matching ones. Clean ones? No, that's too much of a reach. I must just find matching ones. I search, digging through the floor piles. I find two that do not match, but are the same color. Good enough.

Fifteen minutes late. My cat chirps as he brushes against my leg. Oh! My little friend! He's so cute and sweet. My sister loves to get pictures of him, so I'll take one for her. Look up here, Blue! So cute. I should really update the instagram I made for him, I've met so many people who have the same type of cat. I should edit some photos of him today to post. He makes me so happy. I feel so lucky I get to have a cat and such a sweet, loving one like Blue. How many people get to have such a great pet? I'm so thankful for him, and I tell him so while I scratch his face the way that makes him purr.

I text my sister the picture. She tells me to have a good day. I try to find a cute GIF to send her to tell her to have a good day too. Here's one with Snoopy. She'll like that.

I also need to feed Blue. There are a dozen empty, smelly cans on the counter of cat food, but I pick a new one out of the box they were shipped in and put it in his dish with a random measuring spoon because all my other silverware is dirty.

Bag. I need to pack a bag. Laptop, keys, tissues, pens, notebook, headphones, charging cable for my phone. Is that everything? And my wallet, of course! Aha. That would be bad if I forgot that.

My shoes are dirty and scuffed but I don't have time to fix them. What kind of coat? I don't check the weather. I pick out a thin yellow one that I like. I've always liked bright colors. This will cheer me up to wear it. Bag, coat, keys, phone...where is my phone?

I have headphones on, listening to a YouTube video on two times speed, but I don't know where my phone is. I don't have time for this! But I can't leave without my phone.

It's deep in the covers of my bed. I don't remember putting it there between sending the GIF to my sister and now, but no matter. I found it.

It's twenty degrees and raining. I have no umbrella and my spring coat is incredibly inappropriate for the weather.

I've left my car on the street for a few days in an area that is only for 3-hour parking. The parking tickets are stacked on the windshield. I owe the city about $400 in parking tickets and I keep getting letters from the police that they'll boot my car if I don't pay. I messed up the days on my budget spreadsheet, so I won't be able to pay them for another month.

I have no gas. I check the miles my car estimates I can go with the amount left and compare it to what my GPS says. Just enough. Maybe. It'll be okay. I can't get gas now.

I forgot to brush my teeth. I forgot my laptop charging cable. I forgot to take my medication, and I forgot to bring my medication with me to take my second dose. When I finally arrive at my destination, I don't remember that my debit card fell between the seat in my car yesterday while getting coffee at the drive-thru. So I leave without it. I also forgot to put deodorant on.

I wonder what my coworkers would think of me if they knew about my messy apartment, my poor hygiene, my lack of planning skills. Will they notice my teeth aren't brushed? Do I have any gum, mints, anything?

My coworker sees me come in late with in an oddly-fitting outfit and messy hair, but I greet them happily when I come in. They say that everyone forgets things sometimes and lends me their laptop charger. I'll forget to return it, but they don't know that yet. They don't know about my kitchen or my bedroom or my clothes or my unwashed face or my parking tickets. They don't know that without my medication I will be useless for the entire day and get nothing done, making more work for them.

I'm an excellent actress. I pretend to be like everyone else, and somehow I pass the test every time. I'm a shy, kind, young woman - they would never suspect there is a moldy box of forgotten take out food in my backseat that I'll discover in a few days. People socialized as female are expected to be neat, organized, in control. They don't even consider that I might not be those things.

"What did you bring for the potluck today?" my coworker asks.

The ingredients I bought for the dish I signed up to make are rotting in my fridge, forgotten as soon as I put them there after shopping two weeks ago. I didn't think to buy them closer to today. I also didn't think to put the pot luck on my calendar.

I make up an elaborate story about how my boyfriend needed to be picked up from a far-away job site last night. She believes me and I feel I don't deserve it.

I wish I wasn't a good actress.

#adhd #adhd women #adhd post #adhd tag #adhd things #executive dysfunction #neurodiverse stuff #add #essay #personal #totisviribusletters #adhd feels #adhd life #adult ADHD #adhd adult #adhd brain #my adhd

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hikennosabo · 4 months

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#tristampparty day 6, episode 6: once upon a time in hopeland

THE HALFWAY POINT OF @tristampparty BABY!!! this is another episode i've watched multiple times on its own so... LET'S GOOOOO

and we start right out the gate with

wolfwood vial count: 2

i don't think i need to keep saying that masaya onosaka is the radio dj... he's been a constant...

LOL, LMAO, EVEN

"disposal," though... we know all about the last run, but what else does disposal entail. like what do they do with the. um. the corpse? and the word "disposal"... yeesh...

so they say, even though it's obvious bullshit. but i do wonder. conrad is in charge of july, EoM's base is in july, etc etc... but how many people actually know what's going on? who does "the july government" consist of besides conrad? what about the civilians living in the city? EoM's cover is flimsy at best, they're suspicious as hell, so how deep and how far does the propaganda machine reach that this can just... keep going on?

all this planet has is radio and newspapers, no TV, no internet, and everyone is struggling just to survive... we saw just last ep how EoM had a grip on one village to the point where it was normalized to sacrifice children... just how good are they at controlling information? jeez. roberto and meryl's job as reporters is more important than ever.

we see that part of wolfwood's designated role is to go after deserters and traitors, so that's another way of controlling information, but. he's just one guy. so they probably have more assassins than just him. maybe the rest of the ghg that we haven't seen yet? there's livio, too, but... how long has he been with EoM at this point? the timeline's so unclear on this, i don't know... we know it took "months" between wolfwood being taken by them and his escape attempt + livio(/razlo) joining, but we don't know how long ago that was either... presumably it would also take "months" for the experiments to be done on livio, or maybe even less time? uhhhhh (steam comes out of my ears from thinking too hard)

......i'm less than 3 minutes into the episode. let's continue.

it's cute that they shrug simultaneously. mad at each other but still in sync... :')

no idea why the orphanage would be highlighted on the map except for foreshadowing purposes, but it looks like the steamer stops at... uh... *squints* taradiddlescoast... deucedump?!... orange bazoo... who tf is naming these places?!

:') aha. ahahahahaha. ahahhahahahaha. ah. uah. ue. ueeeeeeaaahhh

we already know that the sandsteamer route passes by the orphanage. so i like that there's a sandsteamer visible in the distance. very nice subtle attention to detail here

i feel like people are always quick to point out that livio and wolfwood being siblings is specific to stampede only but i DON'T care, this is my FAVORITE interpretation of their relationship, i really love it so much and think it enhances the narrative and nicely contrasts the relationship between vash and knives. orange was SO big brained for this and i'm not kidding. they're brothers in the manga too, to me.

the dub line here is "stop, livio! he's not who hurt you!" which just tears me into a million pieces, thanks!

...if i remember correctly... the "great sand ocean" is called as such because things just sink into it, right? (hmm... wonder how many crashed ships sank into the sand ocean...) hence the boat-like vehicles that are used to cross it. as we can see, the bad lads gang uses what look like windsurfers. and yet wheeled vehicles seem to fare just fine...?!

we never see what the test is. huh... i'm reminded of the promised neverland all of a sudden

nicholas gets selected and the bell rings... can i point something out? the bell's presence in scenes... what the bell represents... it has the EoM logo on it. well, so does the building. but notably, we see the bell in the scene with livio and wolfwood on the roof at night and also in the scene of them cuddling which i posted above. they're bonding and they love each other but the eye of michael is quite literally looming over them... and over the orphanage as a whole...

i've already talked about this in my bookclub posts but i want to talk about the orphanage's relationship with EoM again. it's literally run by them... there's NO cover story here, they're CLEARLY suspicious as hell. in the manga, chapel came by himself to pick wolfwood up and the cover story was that they would be repairing churches, right? and everyone genuinely believed he was going off to live a better life. here it's just. a bunch of guys in suits and masks. obviously suspicious. they run the place, so i guess there's no need for a cover story...? but iirc in the manga EoM was also using the orphanage as a "source" for soldiers, right? like i think chapel says something like that, doesn't he? am i misremembering?

i have so many questions. there's no confetti. what does that mean. this is a lot more lowkey than wolfwood's departure in the manga. no cheering, no invitation to come back/saying this is always his home, just... polite waves. and melanie looks... unhappy. how much does she know? how much of a choice does she have here? ...huh. i'm reminded of the promised neverland again.

what does this mean for... y'know. The Scene. like. the confetti is important. the kids loving nicholas so much and cheering while saying goodbye is important. why did orange take those out what are they planning what does it MEAN!!!!

wolfwood is "test subject HL1-06" and i have no idea what that means and we can't determine from this how many kids came before him either.

wolfwood vial count: 3

hi sweetieeeee i love youuuuuu i love youuuuuu

see this gets the gears turning in my head regarding the timeline again. legato says this, and we see some flashforwards (i guess in this context that's what they are) to wolfwood killing people, including the guy from the beginning of this episode and monev from the last episode... (over which legato calls him a loser, lol?! even though that's very much not the reason why wolfwood killed him, and we know it) so how long was wolfwood working for EoM before he was given the job to "babysit" vash?

i already talked about this in one of my bookclub posts but there's the change in livio's motivations, too... he's chasing after wolfwood... as opposed to (razlo) wanting to be needed... what does it mean. man, i really hope orange doesn't do razlo dirty whenever he shows up for real.

THIS CLEARLY ISN'T STRINGS. WHY IS LEGATO'S POWER DIFFERENT IN EVERY VERSION OF TRIGUN I SWEAR TO GOD like it's telekinesis, right?! what does this mean for legato?! and his backstory?! strings are so fitting for him thematically, so i don't know what they could be planning here!!

kouki uchiyama will see a guy with blue hair covering one eye and say "is anyone gonna voice him" and not wait for an answer (and then fight akira ishida over it)

CONRAD I'M GOING TO THROTTLE YOU. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR EXPERIMENTS ARE DOING HUH. HUH!!!!

HGORHGHGHG.GHG. AHGHGGG.HGH.

thinking about the previous episode and eating rocks

livio hears wolfwood's name and that's when he opens his eyes and kicks vash off him... i initially thought maybe he just took the opportunity because vash was distracted, but he was distracted by the military guys right before this, so...?!

say that to knives and see what happens. also hello pretty boy you are so pretty i love you i'm blowing you kisses mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah

whenever legato talks about his confusion over fraternal love i can't help but remember nightow's comment about him maybe having a younger sister. which is interesting to think about but has never been relevant for any version of legato ever... buuuut... with orange's attention to detail, hmmm, who knows...

also i'm obsessed with legato driving hands-free and I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING HOW HIS POWERS WORK IN THIS VERSION.

*wipes brow* let's end it there i wrote too much. i know i'll have a lot to say about the next episode too. they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming

#tristampparty #trigun talk #june speaks

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sftheoryblog · 4 months

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Leo works as a assistant manager at Bath and Body Works. After a long day they can finally clock out and go home to their love Jax. They felt miserable all day but its gotten worse in the last few hours. As soon as Leo got into their car, they looked for something to blow their nose. Which has been running non stop all day. Their head hurt and throat, eyes, back, feet and arms basically if it could hurt it did. Leo sneezed several times on the drive home and couldnt contain the mess wjhile driving so once they parked in the driveway, leo cleaned themselves off as best they could. Wet stains are left around the edges of the sleves where they wiped there dripping nose. Leo turns the door handle to enter their home and they see Jax standing over the stove. Leo contuines in and shuts the door, unfortunately Leo doesn't get very far without

Ah...ahh...ahhee heet he... HEETUISH HEETUISSHHH ACHOOOO

Leo tries to stifle but that failed. Jax hears, turns the stove on low and walks in front of leo who looks like a small breeze could knock them over. Leo looks at Jax with puppy dog eyes, tears forming in their blues eyes. There nose red and chapped, running down to their lip, cheeks red but their skin pale.

I - i *sniff* imb dont feel good

leo manages to get that out before brusting into tears, they fall into Jax's arms as he goes to hold them.

baby shhh it will be okay, ive got you

Suddenly leo is jolted into the air as Jax lifts them into the fireman craddle.

Ahh woah what are you doing baby

Leo burys their head into jaxs chest and clings to his shoulders.

Im carrying my baby to bed

Leo is enjoying being carried but thier nose begins to tickle and they cant cover because their hands are holding onto jax. They muffle into jaxs shirt

ah achoooush ACHHHHOUISJ HEEETUISH AHA im sorry i sneezed on you, urg im so gross, i didnt know what to do, im too scared to move my hands ah oh no imb gonnnna snze ahooooco ACHOOOOHIUSH HHEEEYTUISH ACHHOOOOUISH *sniffles*

Bless you, i dont care if you sneeze on me, your sick you cant help it. Its okay baby you dont need to worry. Use me as your tissue

Jax smiles and looks concerningly at Leo. And steps into their bedroom. He gently lays leo down onto the bed.

Do you want pj's or shorts, do you have a fever

Jax reaches the back of his hand to leos forehead

Hmm can I have pj's I'mb cold

Your burning up, I think you have fever but of course u can have pj's baby

Jax leaves to grab them and some medicine before coming back to leo who is passed out sleeping

Jax sighs, leo looks so peaceful sleeping. Jax slips the pj's onto the sleeping leo. Pulls the covers over him and puts the meds on the night stand for later, kisses him good night and goes back to the kitchen to check on diner.

#little sick fic

#I have been too nervous too post

#snzblr #snz kink #sneezefic #my ocs #oc fic

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vampirecatboy · 1 month

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late because i had a thing this afternoon, then my queue ate the first version of this post lol, so here it is, my third and final fic for Wyll week!

today's prompt was "alternate use for the tadpole," it's roughly 2.4k of plotless smut, and you can read it on ao3 right here

There was something about Wyll, something Kilian had noticed during their time spent on the road together.

Every word of praise he got, no matter who it came from, did something to him.

Kilian didn't actually notice until recently, as they started spending more one on one time together. Every time Wyll received praise, he practically radiated pride, Kilian could almost envision a wagging tail.

And when the praise came from Kilian himself, well… Wyll seemed to like it in a different way. The shy smile and glance away, the subtle but not quite subtle enough biting of his lip. It was all very cute, and it made Kilian want to hold him down and see just how far the praise could take him.

On a night like any other, Kilian got the chance to do just that.

He and Wyll would occasionally stay up together, drinking and sharing stories from their pasts, Wyll with tales of fearsome monsters and hard-won battles, Kilian with salacious stories of his early twenties. It was a bit underhanded on Kilian’s part, because on the one hand he wanted to respect Wyll’s desire to wait, but on the other hand, part of him really wanted to rile him up enough to let Kilian between his legs.

With his recent discovery of Wyll’s thing for praise, he wondered if he had at last found the key to Wyll’s proverbial chastity belt. It would just take a little storytelling and embellishment on Kilian’s part, but he knew he had it in him. What was embellishment if not lying with plot?

“Have I ever told you about the cleric?” Kilian said, having waited for a lull in conversation to voice his little fabrication.

Wyll took a swig of the wine they were sharing and looked at him curiously.

“No, I don’t think you have,” he said. “Is this another notch-in-the-bedpost story?”

“Mon ange, those are the only interesting stories I have,” Kilian remarked dryly.

“Not true!” Wyll furrowed his brow and gave a kind smile. “I quite liked the one about your sister and that, uh… he was a noble but I can’t remember what you said… ugh, what was he? Duke?”

“Marquis,” Kilian smirked. “And the fact that you cannot remember tells me it was not an interesting story.”

“Aha, but I remember that he gifted her a room of flowers she was allergic to, then her throat almost closed up and she had to be physically stopped from casting fireball to destroy them,” Wyll said, smiling all the while. “The nobleman’s title was inconsequential to the story.”

Kilian stared at him blankly, and Wyll just kept smiling. It was almost annoying how good he was at this. Almost.

“Tell me again how I don’t remember?” He nudged Kilian with his elbow.

Kilian grumbled and batted him away. “Do you want to hear the cleric story or not?”

“Sure, love, tell me about your priest kink.”

Kilian snatched the wine bottle from him as he laughed, and took several swallows of the tasty red.

“Gods, you are a pain in my ass,” he said. Any guilt he felt for taking advantage of Wyll’s little thing for praise vanished in that moment. Wyll wanted to tease him? Well, he would tease Wyll right back. “So the cleric… he was this cute little half elf. Lovely brown skin, gorgeous, dark red hair, and just the prettiest eyes, the color of sunshine.”

All true. Kilian had met this cleric through a mutual “friend.” The three of them shared many a steamy evening together, enjoying each other’s bodies. He would leave the third out of his story, Wyll didn’t need to know that particular detail.

“He was so sweet but had a voracious sexual appetite,” he continued. “I could barely keep up.”

“Based on your past stories, that’s really saying something,” Wyll chuckled.

“Make a man with no need to rest between orgasms and he will inevitably tire out those that do.”

Wyll’s brow furrowed.

“He had a cunt,” Kilian clarified.

“Huh,” Wyll blinked at him. “That would do it.”

“I took it as a compliment,” he said. “I was clearly satisfying him if he wanted it so much.”

“This is starting to sound like a brag,” Wyll said flatly.

Kilian cringed. “Pardonne-moi, I got carried away.”

Wyll waved his hand dismissively.

“To get back on track…” Kilian started. “He may have been running me into the ground in terms of frequency, but soon after we met, I discovered something about him that often gave me the upper hand during our late-night liaisons.”

Wyll put the wine bottle on the ground beside him and leaned closer. “Yeah?”

Kilian looked him square in the eye and said, “‘Good boy.’”

Wyll froze, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly.

“I- I’m sorry?” he stammered.

“I would call him a good boy,” Kilian smiled.

“Oh…”

“He loved when I praised him,” Kilian said. “It would always make him melt. Good boy , you’re doing so well , be good and come for me .”

With each word, Wyll looked more shy, and Kilian only grew more bold.

He pressed his hand flat to Wyll’s chest. “Can you be good for me? Hm ?”

He could feel Wyll’s racing heart.

“Kilian…”

“Yes, mon ange?”

“Are you… are you doing something to me?” Wyll asked.

“Is something I am saying affecting you?” Kilian asked in return. “Would you like to be praised?”

Wyll stammered, “I- well- I don’t- I don’t know, I-”

Kilian took his face in his hands and leaned in close.

“Because I could,” he murmured. “You are so good, Wyll. So, so good.”

Wyll closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

“You like that?”

Wyll nodded, biting his lip

“Oh…” Kilian cooed. “My sweet boy.”

He pressed his lips to Wyll’s in a soft kiss, then another, and another. They could never do just one kiss, not when they were alone. There was typically a stopping point, but that night was different. Wyll was softer, more pliable, giving Kilian the perfect opportunity to swing a leg over his thighs and settle in his lap.

Wyll didn’t protest. In fact, he seemed to be very into it, wrapping his arms around Kilian’s waist and gripping his shirt as he continued to ravish him with his mouth. Their kisses grew more heated, and before long, Kilian was rocking his hips against Wyll’s, while Wyll slid his hands up the back of his shirt.

Feeling his warm, rough hands on his back had all sorts of filthy ideas running through Kilian’s head. Wyll underneath him, stripped naked, writhing and squirming and clawing at his skin as Kilian plowed into him relentlessly.

Or should his hands be tied? Kilian always did love a spot of rope in the bedroom. Maybe a blindfold too.

He wished he could show Wyll all of it, see what he liked, because as of right then, the only thing that he knew Wyll liked was praise. And Kilian himself of course.

No. There was a way to show him. They wouldn’t even have to take their clothes off.

“There is so much I want to do to you, Wyll,” Kilian whispered into his mouth.

“I- I… I want to know, but…” Wyll bit his lip and looked away.

“I can show you…” He pressed their foreheads together. “If you let me in.”

“Let you-”

Kilian tapped into the little wriggling guest in his head, reaching out to Wyll in an attempt to enter his mind.

“I will let you in too,” he said. “We can share.”

Wyll chewed his lip and held his stare, until finally, Kilian felt the barrier come down. He could see Wyll’s thoughts, loose images that, at the moment, were all Kilian.

“Good boy.”

A burst of elation and arousal. That boded well for Kilian’s plan.

“Do you want to see?”

Wyll nodded.

Kilian closed his eyes and concentrated on the scene in his head.

They were on Kilian’s bed, back at his family’s estate, stripped down to their chemises. Kilian teased a kiss, barely brushing Wyll’s lips, squeezing one of his pecs as he slid his lips along Wyll’s jaw, until he found the smooth skin of his throat.

Wyll sighed and carded his fingers through Kilian’s hair, but his soft, relaxed noises of contentment shifted as Kilian reached down and cupped him through his pants.

Kilian divested him of his shirt, and skillfully undid the fastenings of his pants before pushing him onto his back and removing his own shirt. Wyll lied before him, panting and disheveled, staring up at Kilian with a look of pure lust, pure hunger.

“Let me see you,” he said, running his hand down his chest and stomach, sliding it down, down into his underwear. “Show me what you’ll give me.”

“Mm, say please,” Kilian smiled sweetly, tilting his head.

“Please,” Wyll obeyed. “I want to see you.”

“Good boy.”

Kilian could feel Wyll’s growing arousal tickling the back of his mind. Time to turn it up a notch.

Ever the tease, Kilian slowly undid his pants’ fastenings, hooking his thumbs under his waistband, before pushing them down his thighs, along with his underwear. Wyll’s hand moved in a slow, steady motion between his legs, pumping his cock as Kilian revealed himself.

“Your turn.” With just those words as warning, Kilian reached forward, and tugged Wyll’s remaining clothes from his body.

At last, Wyll was laid out before him, naked, skin glistening with sweat, body ready to be taken.

And Kilian would take him, but only when he begged for it.

He pressed kisses to the insides of Wyll’s thighs, nipping and sucking, getting closer and closer to where he knew Wyll wanted it, skirting around his swollen cock, teasing and teasing until Wyll was shaking, his chest heaving.

Only when his fingers dug into the sheets did Kilian dive in and drag his tongue up his length.

Wyll cried out as Kilian took him in his mouth, fingers weaving into Kilian’s hair as he bobbed his head, groaning and gasping as Kilian expertly worked him over.

“Kilian…” he sighed.

He was leaking profusely, panting and squirming, moments from coming, so of course he let out a needy whine when Kilian abruptly pulled off.

Kilian hushed him, pressing kisses to his hip, stomach, ribs, making his way to Wyll’s chest and wrapping his lips around a nipple. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, steadily stroking Wyll’s cock all the while.

Then his fingers trailed down, further between his legs. Wyll gasped when he pressed them to his hole, groaned as Kilian slowly pushed inside him. They went in easy, already slick, and Wyll spread his legs just a little wider.

Kilian thrusted into him, searching for that place inside him that would make him so, so wet. Wyll panted in time with his thrusting, until at last-

“Fuck-!” His back arched, his fingers dug into Kilian’s arm, he writhed and cried out as Kilian relentlessly fucked into him, zeroing in on his prostate. “Kilian! Kilian! Stop, I can’t-!”

Kilian pulled his fingers from Wyll’s body, leaving him gasping as he was robbed of his climax yet again.

Wyll looked up at him with hazy eyes, watched as he rose onto his knees, rid himself of his last piece of clothing and slicked his cock.

“Tell me you want it,” Kilian purred, rubbing his cock against Wyll’s hole.

Wyll groaned.

“Fuck me,” he said between breaths. “Please, fuck me.”

Kilian grinned, biting his lip-

“Good boy.”

-and slid his cock inside Wyll in one smooth motion.

He fell forward onto his hands, caging Wyll in as he rolled his hips. Wyll was silent, save for his heavy breathing, as he acclimated himself to Kilian.

“You feel amazing, mon ange,” Kilian said softly into Wyll’s ear. “It is like you were made for me.”

Wyll turned his head, their noses bumping as he tilted his chin up.

Kilian chuckled warmly, and pressed his lips to Wyll’s again and again as he thrusted into him. Wyll’s lips parted for Kilian’s tongue, eagerly meeting him with enthusiasm.

He cried out suddenly, throwing his head back. Kilian sunk his teeth into Wyll’s exposed throat as he thrusted harder, and Wyll clawed at his back.

“Gods…” Wyll groaned. “There… right there…”

Kilian fucked into him relentlessly, his pleasure only growing as Wyll fell apart beneath him.

Wyll’s moans grew in desperation, Kilian could tell he was close. He railed into him without quarter, chasing his high, seeming to hit Wyll’s prostate with almost every thrust.

“Be a good boy and- fuck- come for me.”

He clawed at Kilian’s back, gasped and panted as his pleasure grew and grew until at last, cum shot out of him, spattering up to his neck, the white contrasting beautifully with his dark skin.

Kilian was moments behind him, pressing as deep inside Wyll as he could as he came, filling him with his seed.

He opened his eyes as he severed his connection to Wyll, just as Wyll, too, opened his eyes. He looked at Kilian with a hint of something he’d seen maybe once before. Lust, hunger, need. And sure enough, when Kilian shifted in Wyll’s lap, he could tell they were in similar states of arousal. Wyll inhaled sharply.

“That was… quite the show,” he said, sounding out of breath.

KIlian smiled and pressed closer, wrapping his arms around Wyll’s shoulders.

“I wanted to give you a clear picture.”

“And… that’s what’s awaiting me, is it?” Wyll asked.

“I am open to edits,” Kilian said. “But yes, whenever you want it, mon ange.”

Wyll glanced away and bit his lip.

“And if I said I wanted it now?”

Kilian blinked. “I thought you wanted to wait.”

“I don’t want to wait anymore.” He took Kilian’s face in his hands. “I want you, Kilian. I really, really want you. We might die tomorrow, and I don’t want to die without actually… feeling you.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Kilian put his hands flat on Wyll’s chest, pushed him onto his back, “I cannot help but agree,” and captured his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, filled with promise.

#stuff and things #my writing #wyll week #wyllweek2024 #i really hate tumblr sometimes lol #and i know it'll spit out the original post eventually but i want to get this out sooner rather than later #anyway i do want to do the other 4 prompts at some point #don't know when that'll be though #depends when inspiration takes me

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midnight-fauna · 2 years

Text

cuttin' me open (then healin' me fine)

A/N: Originally posted on my Ao3 under "TheExtrovertOutcast"

Pairings: Nancy Wheeler/Robin Buckley

Chapter: 1/1

Word Count: 2053

Summary: Nancy patches up Robin after their fight with Vecna.

Ronancetober Day 1: Upside Down

It was over.

Fuck, it was finally over.

Exhaustion hit Robin like a brick as her filthy body collapsed on Steve’s couch. Only an hour prior, she, a few teenagers, and a gaggle of kids had single-handedly stopped the apocalypse. Eleven had managed to kill Vecna’s Upside-Down form before he got to Max. The two girls were huddled up close on the floor, comforting one another. On Max’s other side was Lucas, a warm hand on her shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. He stayed silent while the two girls talked. Erica had already gone home, claiming she needed to tell the Sinclairs where their son was, but it was clear she just needed to be alone. The poor girl was way too young to be dealing with all this shit. All of them were.

On the other couch, Dustin and Eddie told Steve about their adventure of distracting the demobats. From what Robin had overheard, Eddie had tried to be a hero and act as bait for the hell-sent creatures. Fortunately, Vecna had been slain before they’d been given the chance to completely devour the lanky man. Steve was lecturing on Eddie, going on and on about how foolish the action had been; however, the gentle care he took in cleaning the other’s wounds spoke volumes louder. The interaction made Robin’s lips twitch upward in a small smile.

Seeing her kids and her platonic soulmate safe eased something in Robin and she felt her heartbeat slow, sleep tugging at her wrist, begging her to succumb to it. Her eyes had only just begun to flutter to a close when she felt a weight beside her. She didn’t question it, assuming it was one of the kids come to find a proper napping spot, until a gentle hand found her arm.

She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who it was. The touch was cool, fingers delicate yet strong. Well-kept nails traced ever so slightly over her skin and it took all of Robin’s strength not to shudder. Her pulse spiked once more.

“Robs,” Nancy’s voice was soft beside her. “Come on, we gotta get your wounds cleaned up.”

Too tired to care about how whiney her voice came out, Robin muttered, “We can… just do that tomorrow.”

She didn’t have to look to know Nancy was frowning. “By tomorrow, a nasty infection might already find itself a wonderful home in your gashes.”

Robin stirred slightly. As much as she’d love to get pampered by the Nancy Wheeler, the prospect terrified her at the same time. Ever since that night at Starcourt Mall, she’d been crushing hard on the girl. Seeing her with that gun, ferociously defending those she loved - fuck, not even her old admiration for Tammy Thompson could compare.

Of course, just as the crush had started to fade, just as Robin wasn’t staring at her in the halls and buying every copy of the school newspaper religiously, the world had gone to shit again. It had brought her right back to Nancy and they’d actually grown close.

Close was dangerous. Close meant heartbreak.

Unfortunately for her, Nancy wasn’t taking “no” as an answer.

With surprising strength for her short frame, Nancy yanked Robin to a seated position from where she’d begun to slump to the side. Robin let out a little shout, instantly turning the room’s attention to her. Face burning, especially so when Steve shot her a knowing look, she whispered, “Fine, fine, I’m coming.”

Nancy gave her a satisfied smile and, to Robin’s extreme panic, grabbed her hand, leading her up the stairs. They turned a corner, passing by Steve’s bedroom, and into the adjacent bathroom. Immediately, Nancy got to work, opening cupboards and rustling through them. “I know he has a first-aid kit somewhere in… aha!” Triumphantly, she emerged with a large white box with a grin. Robin’s heart physically fluttered.

“I can patch myself up, Nance, really. It’s okay,” Robin said quickly, horrified at the possibility that sometime, after this, Nancy would find out what she was - how she felt about women. Wouldn’t Nancy be disgusted if she figured out she’d been so close to a lesbian? God, would she think Robin was trying to be predatory?

Nancy raised an eyebrow. “You have cuts all over your back. How are you going to reach those?”

“I- well- I could-” Robin began to protest.

“C’mon, it’s no big deal, really,” Nancy insisted and carefully grabbed Robin’s shoulders, pushing down on them so Robin ended up in a seating position on the edge of the porcelain bathtub. “I saw a pretty bad one on your leg, so I’ll start there.”

Robin watched in awe as Nancy knelt down in front of Robin, making quick work of opening the kit and searching through it. She emerged with a handful of cotton balls, a bottle of clear liquid, and two rolls of gauze. Turning back to Robin, she worked her hands underneath the rough fabric of Robin’s blood-stained camo pants. Her chilled fingertips felt heavenly against Robin’s burning skin and she internally groaned at the realization she’d already become addicted to Nancy’s touch.

“This is going to sting a little, okay?” Nancy warned once both pants had been rolled up to Robin’s mid-thighs. Various bruises and small cuts littered her freckled skin, undershadowed in importance against the long gash on her left calf. It was the source of all the blood on the tarnished fabric, not gushing any longer but still trickling down to her once-white socks.

Lost in her thoughts, Robin was caught off-guard when a cold wetness dabbed at her cut. The antiseptic stung like hell and she couldn’t help the pained whimper that left her. Any prior attempt to seem “cool” to Nancy was completely lost by whatever the fuck that sound was.

She tensed, waiting for Nancy to laugh at her or make some snarky remark. No such thing came. Instead, Nancy looked up at her with sympathetic doe eyes. “Sorry, maybe ‘a little’ was an understatement.”

“Of the century.” Robin allowed herself the sarcastic comment, surprised when Nancy laughed softly and lifted her free hand to her.

“Here,” Nancy said. “Take my hand and squeeze it whenever it hurts too bad, alright? I got you, it’s okay.”

That last sentence had Robin’s head practically spinning. No one had ever “got” her before. Her dad was always out of the picture and her mom’s only form of affection was insulting Robin’s intelligence. Steve was her practically her platonic soulmate, but even he had never said something like that.

Hoping Nancy wouldn’t notice how clammy her palms were, Robin reached down and took it. The cotton pad returned to her wound, the stroke soft despite the near-agony the action caused. Instinctively, Robin bit her lip and tightened her grip on Nancy. She expected her to yank her hand back, deciding her offer was no longer worth it. Yet, she only felt the soothing caress of the pad of Nancy’s thumb on the back of her hand.

She would’ve fought Vecna all over again if it meant she could feel that forever.

“You’re doing so good, Robs. You’re sitting so well for me,” Nancy praised and Robin could only pray that her jackrabbit pulse couldn’t be felt by the other girl. Though Robin had never been in a relationship, she’d always assumed she’d be the “dominant” one or whatever. After all, she was taller than most girls she knew and she had always associated the two traits. But hearing Nancy praise her like that? God, Robin was a pitiful puddle, threatening to slip behind her and sink down the drain.

Eventually, the torment of the antiseptic ended and Nancy tossed the bloodied cotton into the garbage bin. She ruffled through the box and, extracting some medical tape, she set both that and the gauze in her lap. Robin watched in less-than-straight fascination as Nancy firmly pressed the gauze down on the wound. One hand kept it steady while the other brought the tape to her lips, grabbing the edge of it with her teeth and pulling. It was almost primal and Jesus, Robin did not have the time to unpack what that did to her.

Soon, the tape was wrapped skillfully around Robin’s calf, holding the gauze in place. “There we go,” Nancy murmured, more to herself than anything. Her eyes lifted to meet Robin’s and, to the Robin’s confusion, she furrowed her eyebrows.

“What? Do I have Hell dirt on my face?” Robin joked, desperately trying to ease the tension because she simply couldn’t cope with Nancy staring at her so intensely.

Without a word, Nancy rose on her knees, thighs lifting off her calves and reached up to touch Robin’s bottom lip.

What. What. What. What. What. What. What.

Robin’s mind was a blur of racing thoughts, all unintelligible to herself as her brain had become much more interested in the sensation on her skin.

“Your lip is bleeding,” Nancy said quiety, thumbing over the torn skin. “That gash must’ve hurt like a motherfucker for you to bite it so hard.”

“Uh… yeah… yeah,” Robin stumbled out, knowing damn well her teeth had been teasing at her lip out of anxiety rather than physical pain. “It’s fine, though, really. Like, what’s a little lip wound to all the shit we’ve been through? Honestly, out of all of you, I probably ended up with the least amount of winds, so I really should consider myself lucky. Oh shit, speaking of, we need to go get checked for rabies after this. Do you think Eddie has his rabies vaccination? I’m not saying that because he’s poor because like, I know poor, but-”

“Robin.”

“- sometimes I wonder how his hygiene is? Respectfully, of course. He’s a great guy and I hope to become better friends with him just like I want to become better friends with you. I just didn’t really have anyone before Steve and even with him, sometimes it gets a little-”

“Robin.”

“- hard because like, you can only stand to be around Steve for so long, y’know? I mean, of course you know. You dated him and stuff. I hope that’s still not awkward between us, because I swear we really are platonic with a capital-”

Robin hadn’t even registered what Nancy was doing until she shot up, lips fitting against hers. All the exciting rambles streaming from her mind stopped, left with only Nancy.

After a brief moment of their lips simply touching, not moving against one another, Nancy moved away. Robin’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of her own blood painted on Nancy’s perfect mouth.

“Wow, uh, I’ve… never been shut up like that before,” Robin broke the silence awkwardly, damning herself internally.

Nancy smiled a little. “I love it when you talk like there’s no tomorrow, Robs, but I honestly just really needed to do that.”

“Needed… to…?” Robin squeaked out.

A laugh left Nancy and she rested back, kneeling once more. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met and you still don’t get this, do you?”

Robin stayed quiet.

“I like you, Robin. I didn’t understand it, at first, but when you ran ahead in the Upside Down today, Steve and I had a talk. He… told me you told him about ‘bisexuality’ - that it’s possible to like both girls and boys. It made everything click for me. It made me realize I once loved Jonathan and now I love you.”

Oh.

“Me?” was all Robin could muster.

“Yeah,” Nancy said, amusement glinting in her big eyes. “I guess I sort of have a thing for awkward tall people that are just a little bit weird.”

Robin’s brain stopped short-circuiting for a brief moment, allowing her to joke, “Weird? Me? I don’t know what you could possibly be insinuating, Wheeler.”

“There’s my Robin,” Nancy said, beaming.

My Robin.

“I’m your Robin,” Robin repeated, saying it like an oath, a promise. “I’m… really regretting biting my lip now because god, I really want you to kiss me again.”

Nancy leaned forward, bending Robin down by the collar of her shirt. “Lucky for you, Buckley,” she murmured, a teasing glint in her eye, “years of fighting monsters made blood not a problem for me.”

Robin exhaled shakily.

“Prove it then, Nance.”

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #ronance #ronancetober #fanfiction #robin x nancy #the fruity four #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

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rhaenyyras · 1 year

Text

snippet from ch2 of my new steddie fic (bcs i can't stop writing these two)

"So, just a totally random question," Steve pauses, and slowly smiles. "Do friends also help friends put away the returns?"

Whatever tension was there for a moment ebbs away now. Suddenly, all Eddie can think about is Steve's sweet smile and those dreamy hazel eyes.

He does his best to play it cool.

"Seriously, Harrington? Wow." Eddie tuts. "It's not enough you interrupted my Friday night—"

"You just said that's what friends do!"

"It is, but now you're asking me to do work." Eddie interrupts. "Totally unpaid work, by the way—"

Steve laughs. "Who said it was unpaid?"

Eddie calls his bluff. "So I'm gonna get cash for this?"

Steve cracks a smile. Aha! Eddie's got him now. To be fair, if only Steve could read Eddie's mind, he'd know Eddie was already won over by Steve's sweet smile and that annoying (cute) spark he gets in his eyes when he's being a total dork (dingus).

"Not money, per se—"

"Oh, not money, per se." Eddie mimics him, and ow.

Steve hits him. "Not cash, but I was thinking pizza."

Eddie blinks. "You think you can bribe me with pizza?"

To which, Steve rolls his eyes and nope, Eddie doesn't let that fly. He hits Steve's shoulder and Steve laughs and gets him right back.

"And beer." Steve adds, like that'll win him over.

He would be correct.

Pizza and beer with Steve Harrington?

Sounds perfect, even if Eddie has spent the last week sulking about the last time they hung out. But there will be time to talk about that later. Right now, Eddie gets the feeling Steve needs some cheering up. Eddie can be that guy, he's good at it.

(ch 1 posted here, ch2 coming soon 🙃!)

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie snippets #stranger things

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theycallme-thejackal · 2 years

Note

“My problems are mine, I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T Warnings: Mentions of Drug Use

"Okay, first things first," says Midge, brushing past him into his very blue room.

"Uh, hi?" He looks at her with a furrowed brow as she sheds her coat and drapes it over a chair.

"Hi," she replies quickly. "First things first. I stopped by Susie's office. I'm taking all gigs from now on - only a couple clubs are off the list because, well, fuck those guys."

He furrows his brow as she continues, "Susie and I are calling Tony Bennett's people in the morning. I'm going to apologize for having my head up my ass, and we're going to try to work something out even if it's not the Copa. I have it on very good authority that he's one of the nicest men in the world, so hopefully he'll be understanding of the situation."

She strides over to his bed, feeling underneath it. "Aha!" She pulls something out from under the bed that he quickly recognizes as her garter belt. "Unless you want to keep it," she says, "but I have much more scandalous lingerie I can leave in your various hotel rooms in the future if you're really that attached to my undergarments."

She tosses it onto the chair on top of her coat before heading into the bathroom. "Uh, Midge..."

She comes out a moment later with his toiletry bag. "This has to go. You're a father. And while it's perfectly fine for your daughter to live with her grandmother while you're on tour or whatever, you need to be there for her. And you can't if you're on...whatever this is."

"Midge - "

"I heard what you said the other night."

His brows lift as he looks at her. "What - "

"You thought I was asleep," she tells him, her voice softening. "And I played along because... that morning outside my apartment, you freaked out about seeing my life. You made it very clear you didn't want to talk about feelings or...anything personal really. So when you said it, I just..."

Lenny rubs his hand over his jaw. "Got it," he replies quietly.

"I don't know if it was just a post-sex haze or if you really meant it, but - "

"No, I meant it," he says quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He realizes she's still holding the bag in her hands, and she starts to turn it in her hands. He doesn't think he's ever seen her fidget before. She looks up at him nervously. "I love you too, you know," she says quietly.

He reaches for her then, gently pulling the bag from her hands. "You don't know me well enough to love me," he murmurs.

"Lenny." Midge looks at him tearfully.

He shakes his head. "My problems are mine," he tells her. "I don't want to be a burden to you. You have...so much ahead of you, and I'm just - "

"Stop talking."

"I'm not - "

"Stop. Talking," she says more firmly. She wipes a tear from her cheek before straightening her back and tilting her chin up at him. "You don't get to tell me how I feel, Lenny. And I may not know your daughter's name or who your best friend is or your favorite comic, but I know you."

She reaches for him, wrapping delicate fingers around his forearm where he's rolled up the sleeves. "I know you make me laugh. I know you have this bad boy persona but you're actually a gentleman. I know your favorite color is blue and you like jazz music and you chose supporting my career over having sex with me tonight.

"I know that when I'm with you, the world slows down. I don't have to be on all the time. You're one of only two people in my life who doesn't expect me to be perfect - who doesn't want me to be perfect."

Lenny exhales through this nose. "You deserve someone who can take care of you, Midge."

"You take care of me. In the only ways that really matter. I don't need a loaded bank account or a huge apartment. All I need is someone who understands me and loves me." She lifts her hand to cup his jaw and then grins. "And who lets me joke about his penis on stage."

He laughs despite himself. "It is quite amusing."

"Oh, I know. I've already filled an entire notebook with jokes about Lenny Bruce's penis."

He smiles softly at her before remembering the bag in his hand. "Midge, this" - he lifts the bag - "doesn't just go away. It's not like I quit and stop being a..." He swallows the words.

"I don't care. I just want to be with you," she breathes.

"I've tried quitting before, and it...it never sticks."

With a gentle smile, she brushes her fingers through the hair at his temple. "You're not alone, Lenny. I'll be with you through all of it."

Lenny pulls his hand from his pocket, tangling his fingers with hers. "My daughter's name is Kitty," he says. "She's five, and I miss her every day. I don't have a best friend. Just a bunch of close friends who trade the honor of posting my bail. I like jazz music, but my favorite records are blues records. And my favorite comic is Mrs. Maisel."

Midge blushes lightly at that before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He drops the bag to the floor in favor of unzipping her dress.

He only picks it up again in the morning to throw it out.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #writing prompt #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #answers #angst #sweet #love confessions

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chaiiitime · 1 year

Text

I wanted to write a comedy of errors of sort with the Moroccan nt but I realised it’s very difficult to come up with a remotely good plot line. It’s not as funny as I wanted it to be but I’ve spent too much time on it to not post it, so here goes …

P.S ignore the plot holes

P.P.S if you’ve got an actual funny story idea drop me a little 💌

Part 1 | Part 2

"You lot are having a little get-together without me, huh?" Walid said as he walked past Nayef, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

"So, what are you guys up to?"

"Nothing." They all echoed a bit too quickly.

Walid seemed oblivious to the tense looks around the room. "Wladi, call room service and have them send up some tea," he said as he nudged Sofyan to make some room for him on the couch. "One last tea before we go, what do you say?"

“So, I told him …” Walid stopped to take a sip of his tea as the rest of them prayed that the end of the story was near.

Hakim felt Walid’s story was endless. He was getting anxious. He had lost count of the number of cups of karak chai Walid had drunk so far. It had been over an hour since he came, and he was showing no indication of leaving soon.

He shared a worried look with Yassine and Romain - time was getting away from them and they would be in deep trouble if they didn't make a move soon.

Yassine shifted closer to Bilal who had ended up standing next to him. "Pretend you're feeling sleepy," he whispered.

"What? Why?" Bilal whispered back.

"Fine, fine" He conceded at the look Yassine gave him.

"I think it's time for me to go to bed" Yassine cringed at the exaggerated yawn Bilal gave.

"Ah, would you look at the time!" Romain said, making a whole show of looking at his watch. "We should all go to bed if we want to be fresh and rested for the flight tomorrow."

Walid looked reluctant to leave, taking a long sip of his tea. "Well, then!" Walid said, slapping his knees like every typical dad as he got up.

“I should get to bed too. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. See you all bright and early for checkout!”

Everyone watched in tense silence as the door closed behind him, then they all broke into chaos.

"We need balaclavas to hide our face!"

"Where the hell are we getting balaclavas at this hour?!"

"This is not heist movie that we need balaclavas!"

"We can just break the cameras with stones!"

"Let's go, l'm ready to tackle some guards!"

"No Sofyan, you're not tackling anybody!"

"Stop it!" Romain shouted. "We just need to be logical about this."

"First, we need to narrow down the possible location of the trophy. That place is huge. We can't waste time trying to search for it everywhere"

"If what Bilal and Boufal said is accurate, the trophy was last seen just before we got on the bus." Yassine pursed his lips, "My guess is that it's still somewhere around there."

"If I remember correctly," Hakim scratched his chin thoughtfully, "the bus left through the west gate. So, the west side has to be our point of entry."

“Right then!” Romain clapped his hands, and gestured for all of them to huddle together as they usually did before a match.

"Bilal and Aboukhlal, you two stay here and cover for us if someone looks for us. Yassine, Youssef and Hakim, you'll be responsible for retrieving the trophy. Munir, Abdelhamid and Sofyan, you're covering their backs. You'll be responsible for neutralising any threat. Abde, Boufal and I will stay outside of the compound and be on the lookout." Romain instructed.”

“Understood?”

“Yes Capi!”

Then, they were on the move, all of them somehow fitting in the same lift, with Elias complaining all the way down for being squished into Sofyan’s pecs. They stumbled out into the warm night air and came to an abrupt stop.

Walid was standing just outside, looking rather unsurprised to see them.

“Aha! I knew it! I knew you were hiding something from me!” He snapped his fingers victoriously. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Nn…nothing” they all stuttered.

“Bilal?” Walid fixed his I’m disappointed stare on him.

Bilal was only that strong, after all. He stumbled through the whole story, ending with their half-baked plan to retrieve the trophy.

Walid advanced on them, shaking his head in disappointment. They all held their breath as they waited for his angry outburst, which would be totally understandable. But they’d forgotten that Walid was Walid.

“I’m disappointed in you,” he said, looking at each one of them. “I thought I have earned enough of your trust for you to know that you can always come to me, whatever the problem is.”

“So let’s go!”

They all looked at him in surprise.

“What?! You don’t want to get the trophy back? It’s going to be light soon. We need to move!”

“Are you serious?” Hakim asked. They were idiots for not having gone to Coach in the first place. How could they have ever doubted that he wouldn’t do his absolute best to get them out of trouble?

“But wait … how are we getting there?” Yassine asked. They’d truly not considered the most important points.

"Yassine, my son, when I say to trust me, you need to trust me. Dir niya"

Some twenty minutes later, they were on their way.

Romain rather not question how Walid had procured a 7-seater in such a short amount of time. The man truly could work wonders no other person could. He just wished it was a bigger car because he had Sofyan sitting nearly in his lap.

Walid stopped the car a safe distance from the palace compound.

"Abde, you're in the driver's seat," Walid said, opening the driver's door. "Keep the car running. We need to be ready to drive away at any time."

"Bilal, you stay here and be on the lookout for any trouble. The rest of you follow me."

They left the car, walking as quietly as they possibly could. They shuffled along the wall hoping no one would notice them. At the corner, they all stopped, waiting for Walid to give the all-clear, then they quickly rounded the corner.

"There! That's the west gate!" Hakim whispered.

"See there," Yassine pointed to a spot a few meters ahead. "I think this is a blind spot. The nearest camera is pointed in the opposite direction. This is the perfect spot for us to jump the walls."

Walid turned around and gestured for everybody to come closer. "Yassine and Youssef, you two are the tallest so you need to help the others over the wall. Boufal, Nayef and I are staying here in case something goes wrong."

"Come on, my lions," Walid clasped Yassine and Youssef on the shoulder. "Get to work."

Yassine and Youssef crouched down, linking their hands together to create a sort of stepping stone. Up went Hakim, then Romain, Sofyan and Munir. Finally, Walid and Boufal helped Yassine and Youssef over.

Boufal grunted as he helped boost them up the wall. “These two really need to lay off the harissa.” He muttered as he bent at the waist to catch his breath.

Once over the wall, the boys assessed their options. Their bus had been parked on the far side across from where they currently were. To get there, they'd have to cross an open courtyard, which in their mind, seemed to be the most herculean task. They looked at one another in apprehension.

What if there was a sniper hidden somewhere, waiting to shoot them, one after the other as they attempt to cross the open space?

"We need to get to the other side without being seen." Romain fished his phone out of his pocket, fumbling to turn the flashlight on.

"Yeah, well" Hakim's voice was sarcastic. "We're not going very far with you waving that flashlight around."

"Fine, fine. I'm switching it off."

"I can see you rolling your eyes at me even in the dark"

"Guys, can we not?" Yassine cut them off. "We are definitely getting caught if you two keep on fighting."

Munir took a big breath and slowly let it out. "All right, guys," he said, cuffing his sleeves. "I guess we don't have any other options but to run very fast and very quick across that open space."

Romain nodded, agreeing with Munir. "Ok guys, on three" he said, lightly jumping on his feet as if he was warming up before a match.

"One ...

Two...”

And they were off. Romain cursed under his breath as the others jumped the start. He started after them, crouching low to avoid being detected. They reached the spot where the bus was parked, all of them looking around frantically.

"Look behind those pots there." Yassine whispered urgently.

Hakim bent down, peering behind one of the big ceramic pots that bordered the far wall. Was that a glint of something he saw? He reached out, his hand connecting with something metal. Hell yeah, this had turned out easier than they had thought. His hand curled around the base of the trophy as he carefully shimmied it out from behind.

“Found it!”

“Hell yeah man!” Sofyan high-fived him.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

They ran across the courtyard, high on the adrenaline of a successful mission. They felt almost invincible - after all, they were too good. No one would even know they had lost trophy.

They reached their point of entry. One after the other, Youssef and Yassine boosted the others up the wall.

Youssef crouched down as he tipped his head towards the wall. “Khoya, you go first.”

Yassine shook his head. “I’m the last line of defence. I don’t go anywhere until everybody is safe. You go first.”

Youssef was about to argue, which frankly they didn’t really have time for, when Yassine shushed him.

“Someone’s coming.” Shit shit shit. They hadn’t made it here so far for them to fail at the last minute.

“Quick, quick” Yassine almost tackled Youssef to the ground in his hurry to get him up the wall.

The voices were getting closer now. Youssef hung over the top of the wall, his hand extended towards Yassine as he silently urged him on. Yassine took a deep breath, moved back a few steps as he gathered enough speed to launch himself as high up the wall as he could.

Somehow, he managed to grab Youssef’s hand, scraping his elbow in the process. Sofyan appeared besides Youssef as he gestured for Yassine to grab his hand. Together, they pulled him over as fast as they could. Then, they were on the move again, rushing towards the car. They piled into the car, tripping over each other and not caring that they were nearly sitting on top of each other. Hakim had barely closed the door before Abde peeled away like a GTA gateway car.

For the first few minutes, they all stayed quiet, catching their breath as the enormity of what they’d just done dawned on them. Then, Walid turned around and smiled at them. They burst out laughing in relief.

Dir niya, indeed.

The next day, the PR head of the Moroccan National team was feeling exasperated but mostly confused.

The buses were lined outside. The hotel staff had gathered in the lobby for the farewell of the team. A healthy number of international press was waiting outside to capture the departure of the team from Qatar. They had a strict schedule of celebration to follow starting with the broadcast of the team’s arrival in Rabat and ending with dinner at the King’s palace, but yet, the players were nowhere to be seen.

“Coach Walid,” she marched towards him as he finally made an appearance. It was a bit surprising to see that he didn’t look as well put-together as he usually did. “We have been waiting for you and your team, sir. We’re running late.”

“I apologise, Miss Asma, but they are on their way down now.” It had taken Walid numerous calls to each of them before he managed to get them all out of bed.

“Here they are now.” Asma watched horrified as the lift doors opened and the players came out. They looked like they’d gotten dressed in their sleep. In fact, they looked like they were barely awake. It would take some heavy-duty concealer to hide those eye-bags they were all sporting.

Coach Walid looked at her and smiled sheepishly. “They’re just not morning people.”

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