#okay now we just pray i can actually write all of this out or ill stab myself in the foot
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speak now
wilbur soot x gn!reader
tw!: alcohol, throwing up, angst? hurt/comfort. kinda makes no sense; not proofread.
word count: 1,336
a/n: i hate this but i rlly just wanted to post bc i miss it. more stuff coming! this is just to get me back into the groove of writing and sharing lol. clearlyyyy i write too much angst im sorry i just thrive in it. ill write more fluff! expect more!
wilbur is lying on the vinyl kitchen flooring when he calls.
he’s wine drunk and crying like an overtired toddler. wails of grief and laboured breaths, clutching his phone with one hand and gripping his hair with the other. the cold surface of the floor giving him some relief for his overheated body.
“hey, you’ve reached y/n! i must be super busy, but leave a message and i’ll get back to you when i can!” he’s heard that voicemail hundreds of times this week. he loves hearing your voice, even if only through a phone speaker.
“baby?” he sniffles, wiping his snot on his sleeve, “hey darling, hey y/n.”
a shaky breath, “listen i-“ he looks at at the ceiling, silently cursing himself, “i need you to tell me where you are, okay?” he catches a sob before it escapes, trying to display strength. “we’re all so worried about you. i-i’m so worried about you.” he’s dizzy, the room is spinning now. he reaches his hand out to lay flat against the floor in an attempt to steady himself.
“just call me. or text one of us. anyone. w-we just want to know you’re okay.” wilbur can no longer hide his misery. his voice is wobbly and it cracks at the beginning of each sentence.
“i love you, y/n. i-i love you so much it hurts.” he begins to feel the bile rise in his throat, “come home, okay?” he hangs up. he gets up from the floor on shaky legs, stumbling his way to the bathroom, and lets out of the contents of his stomach. he’s coughing and spitting, hugging the toilet and resting his head on the side of the seat.
he flushes the toilet and scoots back to lay his back against the opposite wall. he leans his head back, closing his eyes, before crumbling again. loud sobs, fat tears, hiccups and laboured breaths. the pain and grief hits him like a train.
there was an argument between you two the night you left. he hasn’t seen you since, and nobody has heard from you. your phone, however, has remained on - proven by the fact that wilbur has been able to leave you voicemails and each of his texts deliver. both, however, go unanswered and unread.
he is riddled with guilt - his brain playing every possible scenario. hurt, kidnapped, murdered, lost, alone. although, his hopeful side prays you’re at your parents house and you just don’t want to talk to anyone.
he picks up his phone and calls again. he leaves more voicemails. he does this for hours until he’s sober with a pounding headache and a broken heart.
until, finally, “wilbur, please stop calling.”
you answer. he’s frozen, sitting up from his leant over position quickly.
“y/n?” he’s convinced he’s hallucinating, that this isn’t real, that you didn’t actually pick up your phone.
“i’m fine, wil. i’m safe. please stop calling and go to sleep.” you seem annoyed, your voice is heavy with exhaustion; like he’s woken you up multiple times with his constant calls.
“w-where are you?” he’s frantic.
“i’m safe.” you respond, sternly.
“stop calling, wil.” it comes out like a warning.
“are you going to come back?” he asks, the emotions bubbling in his gut, “please, y/n. please come home.”
he hears you sigh. he holds his breath as he waits for your answer.
“i’m sorry i worried you” you began, “i just needed some space. i’m coming home in a couple days.”
wilbur falls apart with relief. he cries without the pain and grief present.
“we will talk more about it when i come back. just-“ you pause.
“just give me some space, okay? get some sleep.” you speak gently.
he nods, wiping the tears spilling down his cheeks.
“i love you” he sobs.
“i love you, too” you whisper. you hang up, and wilbur cries more.
two days later, wilbur hears keys jingling at his front door as he sits on the couch. he rises to his feet so quickly that he stumbles slightly, nearly tripping. he watches the lock switch, the door handle twist, and the door begin to slowly swing open. he’s frozen as he watches, wide-eyed.
you walk in, a small bag in hand. you haven’t yet noticed wilbur’s presence as you lock the door and remove your shoes, setting your bag down on the floor next to you.
finally, you look up. you freeze upon meeting wil’s eyes. you both stand there - staring in each others eyes, mouth slightly agape, feet planted in place.
wilbur’s mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but the words get caught in his throat. he gulps, feeling the emotions rise to his eyes.
“hi wil” you break the silence with a small whisper.
his lip quivers, a tear falls down his cheek.
“hi” his voice cracks as he whispers back.
there’s a beat of silence as you both remain solid in your places. wilbur is silently crying, staring at you. you can feel your eyes welling with tears as you speak again; “i’m sorry i left” you begin, “i just needed some space. i should’ve told you where i was going. that was incredibly selfish of me.” you look down, your fingers anxiously playing with the hem of your shirt. you swallow before beginning again, “it killed me to not talk to you, but we both needed time apart.” you look up to meet wilbur’s eyes again. he has tears steadily streaming down his cheeks, his mouth is slightly open. you are finally taking in just how broken he looks; his hair is a mess, he has dark eye bags as if he hasn’t slept since the night you left, his skin is pale and dry. you feel like the shittiest human being on earth for having caused him this pain. you quickly wipe the tear that falls from your eye.
wilbur gulps again before speaking in a hushed voice and broken tone; “i never want to go that long wondering if you’re okay again. w-wondering if i’ll ever see you again. i-“ a choked sob leaves his lips. he breathes deeply before continuing, “i was s-so scared that the only time i would ever hear your voice again was through your voicemail message.”
you can’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks as he speaks. you nod as you look down.
“i’m so sorry” you crumble, both of you letting out soft sobs and hitches of sharp breaths.
“let me hold you” wilbur speaks up, “please, l-let me hold you.”
all you can do is nod. the words won’t form. so you do; you nod as he quickly steps forward.
and as he reaches you, he pulls you into him. his hands wrap themselves around your middle as his head buries into your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull your face into his chest, breathing him in. you can feel his hot tears on your skin and his body jump as he lets out quiet sobs.
you stand there, in the living room of your shared apartment, holding each other and crying together for an unmeasurable amount of time. until eventually, the sobbing subsides and all that is heard is sniffles.
wilbur pulls away from the hug and instead, brings his hands to your face and rests his forehead against yours. you hold his forearms and close your eyes. you missed this - you missed being close to him, feeling him, smelling him. you missed him.
he missed you equally as much.
“never again” he whispers, as his thumbs begin moving against your cheeks.
“never again” you repeat in an equally quiet voice.
you both smile slightly. wilbur moves his head up to leave a long, lingering kiss on your forehead before returning his forehead to yours.
a silent vow of forgiveness, a silent vow of “i’m sorry.”
and yet, there is a quiet but heard vow of a promise to never let this happen again.
#wilbur soot#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur x reader#wilbur soot fic#dsmp x reader#mcyt x reader#mcyt x y/n#mcyt#wilbur x you#wilbur x y/n#wilbur soot x y/n#wilbur soot angst
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drop the lore for your song !
(insert "sorry i put this in drafts and immediately forgot about it" cake here. sorry i put this in drafts and immediately forgot about it!!!)
okay so first i guess we should probably drop the lyrics, theyre on bandlab but also who give a shit. here you go:
-and you sit there like youre some starry-eyed god
asking for sacrifice, knowing what i lost
and what can i do but follow you?
i made you my temple, just follow through
and your honor, you sit and stare as i stand witness
to this man burning everything i love down with this building
and from the ashes his eyelash comes falling, i make a wish
it wont ever come true but ill make him pray it did
and god, my god i would follow you to death
you know this so you hold a blunt knife to my neck
i am more than just your satisfactions and regrets
but you are less than i thought, you are less and you're not even worth it
i am breathing just a little and calling it a life
you are walking in the wild with a mass market knife
and it feels so juvenile to talk it all through
we are teenagers at battle, we are always coming true
HOW DOES IT FEEL TO KNOW YOU COULD NOT HAVE SAVED ME?
AND DO YOU BELIEVE IN EVERYTHING YOU SEE ON THE NEWS
CAUSE YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW THAT ALL KIDS DO IS LOSE EVENTUALLY.
I HATE THAT YOU COULDNT SAVE ME.
that must mean im stronger.
you said you would protect me.
but im like ocean water.
and youre like twenty three!
so i choose now between honesty and dignity
and i cannot worship a god i cant believe
yeah i tore my palms down your altar
for war, blood must taste sweet
i dont know what to do to make you believe that im insane
you made me, made me you, made me who i am
no you didnt make me, i made me, you were just a tool
ill say anything so ill sleep the whole night through
first piece of lore: i did in fact write this in tumblr drafts. people tend to not believe me when i tell them but notes app is far too open. tumblr drafts is for the arteries. also the sense of danger from my drafts being cleared or my account being deleted (which happened) keeps me on my toes.
second piece of lore: this is less of a song and more of a conglomeration of words i thought go together good. i didnt really have a plan for this as i was writing it, it sort of formed the image and story it has as i wrote and only when i was "done" (the song isnt complete but im done writing it for now) did i have it completely. my sister said the phrase "starry-eyed god" and i ran from there! i was kind of toying with the idea of being hurt by someone who doesnt really believe they are harming you, and sort of falling across that line all the time of are they really innocent or are they playing innocent.
i also liked the idea of being so in love with someone that you'd worship them, not understanding that that isnt love, its obsession. lots of misunderstandings and insanity in this bad boy.
this is also definitely the ending half of the song. in my recording the end is a little fucked because, third piece of lore, i accidentally slammed my hand on the table out of passion and spent the rest of the song trying not to cry in pain. why did i push through, you may ask. why didnt i just stop and rerecord in a minute. well im something of an artiste (idiot)
that bit on "what can i do but follow you/i made you my temple just follow through" where im high and singing almost reverently is what i want more of the beginning to sound like. for this section we have more of those divine chorus vibes peeking through every once in a while, so the beginning will have this almost spoken desperate vibe peeking through, but majority of that high angel voice for most of it.
okay this is already long so im gonna stop here with general lore -- if you want me to go through the lyrics as well and talk about that, i am more than happy to!! lyrics are my favorite parts of a song, especially writing-wise, so i would love that actually. some of the lyrics in this are inspired by poetry so its pretty fun to look back and see.
thank you for asking!! i love you sm <33
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some of y'all know and some of u don't but being chronically ill is one of my Things. i won't get into the whole tragic backstory or anything if y'all want to know more u can dm me idm talking about it at all but asdafsdgdg i had my appointment with my specialist doctor that i've been seeing every 3-6 months for the past eight years since i was diagnosed with my illness today and. she told me i was doing well on my own and that she wasn't doing anything to help me anymore and that she thought it was time she cuts me loose, essentially meaning...i am Better Enough to not have to see her regularly anymore. she said ofc i can make an appointment with her any time if i have problems but the regular checkins aren't necessary, i have Graduated sick person school 🥳
i didn't think i was going to get into it too much but i feel like some context is important so content warning for suicidal thoughts/depression/general shitty health i guess
i managed to not cry like a baby over this until now when i'm finally home and sitting down with some time to myself and it's honestly so surreal. i have had health problems my entire life and i remember when i was like. 13 years old. being too sick to go to school anymore and being in so much physical and emotional pain that i would Pray that i would die every day. i genuinely feel so sad for baby carly she suffered so much, and the thing about having health problems that essentially steal your life from you is that you become physically incapable of planning for the future because you don't know if you're going to be too sick to do this or that or if it'll even be possible for you, so i never really thought about what i wanted to do with my life, i just didn't think about the future At All. i tried to come to terms with the fact hat i would probably be sick my entire life and tbh yeah i will be, my illness is highly treatable but never Really goes away in its entirety, it will flare up in the future too. but somehow i never really considered the fact that one day...i would be healthy enough to not need to go to the doctor every three months anymore? i used to go to the doctor Every Week.
and i'm looking at my life now and like...i'm back in school...sure i only take two classes a semester and it's taking me five years to get a degree that was supposed to take me two years, but...i'm in school?? i have a 4.0 even after finishing my required math and science courses? and i don't have an Actual Full Time Job but i DO have a source of income and i am getting paid to write which is my favorite thing to do in the world. like yeah i'm 26 i have never even been on a date in my life but like...i'm still here??? and i've grown so much? it's only march and i've already done more this year than past carly ever dreamed i could?? the entire past month i've just been floored by the fact that i never could've done any of this in the past, and apparently my doctor sees it too and now i am just. Better Enough. to live my life how i want to now. and that's so crazy overwhelming and kind of scary but also exciting. to finally look at things and think...yeah i think i can do that. instead of "what if i'm not healthy enough." to be able to look at the world as a bunch of things i can do now instead of things i can't...like maybe i will actually learn to drive and get out of this dumb midwestern town and become a journalist and maybe it is possible for me to have goals and dreams that i can actually achieve. it's so hard to wrap my head around because i never really allowed myself that possibility before
this is a lot of rambling just to say ???? i don't even know dude ASDFSDGG i just feel so happy and proud of myself...and i feel so happy for my past self too, there have been lots of times in my life that i feel like past me would be so disappointed that i haven't done more with my life but today i wish i could tell 13 year old carly that we made it. and that we will be okay and that i can promise that for a fact. and i feel so proud of the me that felt like she couldn't do Anything for just surviving those days because even those days helped me get to today and to become the me that is well enough to not have to go to the doctor more than once a year anymore. and it's not like Everything Is Better And Perfect And Great, there will still be shit days and there's still a lot to work on and a lot more growing to do but wow. things are so much less shit now than they were 10 years ago, or even five years ago, and being able to Feel that so strongly after so long is just so rewarding. i honestly can't even put it into words, i could type about 5000 more and i'm pretty sure it still wouldn't be enough.
tl;dr wow turns out the "things get better" bullshit isn't bullshit after all. it just turns out that sometimes even the shit is part of the "getting better." i hope that if you're going through a hard time now that by next year, or in the next five years, or ten years, you'll be able to look back on this difficult time and be proud of yourself for surviving it, and that you'll also be happy for your past self, and be in a position to tell the you of today that you made it and will be okay. bc if it can happen to me!! it can happen to anyone trust me okay.
#carly.txt#long post#shit sure is long now that i'm looking at it on dash good gawd#i think i could've kept talking btu That Is More Than Enough#i ran out of tissues so i am wiping my snot with napkins now. disgusteng#crybaby (me)#i am starting to feel my age and i mean that in the best way possible#went from being mentally 16 to mentally 21 today alone i think#still have five years to go but u know. u take it one day at a time#thank u to anyone that read all of this i appreciate you#and i hope you all know i am desperately rooting for you even when i'm not around
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a language offstage
wenrene: idol/fansite au. chapter 01
red velvet debuts from a small, hopeful company.
the four of them come together with the same dreams every idol shares of fame and success, of one day loving and being loved by the rest of the world, of their names being known, of being able to perform.
but the idol industry is a competitive market filled with talented, shining individuals, and there are groups and names far, far larger than their own.
in the first few weeks after debut, their managers have to beg to find slots for red velvet to perform in. they’re squeezed into schedules at the end of more experienced groups, called in for the sparse, few times a broadcast needs a substitute group when another couldn’t make it. they spend the large majority of their time backstage visiting the waiting rooms of other seniors, presenting their new album to them in hopes of gaining their support.
the world of idols is harsh and relentless, bone-deep exhausting in ways only a very select few would understand. but their seniors are those very select few.
joohyun knows there’s reason to keep on dreaming when the sunbaes that greet them accept their album with tired yet warm, understanding smiles.
as a person who chose such an unforgivingly demanding career, joohyun feels like she should say she’s never once thought of quitting. but that isn’t true; there have been many, many times where she has lost hope.
in the end, it’s always been the little things that have kept her going.
like when she meets her first fansite.
—
while their managers struggle to find more schedules for them to promote in, red velvet returns to street busking.
previously, they only did this before debut, to practice going in front of crowds and to at least get their names out there earlier. there’s a completely different feeling in performing in mundane, open spaces for passerby to gawk at though, in comparison to more formal, controlled settings such as real stages.
joohyun is, to say the least, absolutely terrified but trying not to show it. she presses the tremors of her hands into the hem of her skirt, listens to seulgi introduce them as her gaze moves around the small crowd gathered near them. she can see phones up and hear their rapid shutter clicks, and she tries her best to give what she thinks is her practiced, idol-like smile, but it still feels small and shaky on her amateur lips.
a particular flash catches her attention then, and joohyun blinks, eyes automatically drawn toward the source.
a figure stands slightly apart from the rest of the crowd, face concealed beneath a blue cap with a white W etched on. and this is what startles joohyun the most: they are the only person here that isn’t from her management team with an actual, professional camera.
and it’s pointing right at her.
a warm hand lands on the small of her back, and joohyun quickly tears her gaze away to face the rest of the crowd. “hello, i’m red velvet’s leader and main rapper, irene,” she says into her microphone, the same introduction she’s rehearsed time after time, but somehow never enough. her face naturally flushes under the collective eyes turned toward her, and joohyun hastily bends forward in a bow. “thank you for coming to watch us perform. we hope you’ll enjoy.”
there’s scattered applause as joohyun moves into position, scanning briefly over the rest of her members to check that she’s in the right place. one by one she locks eyes with seulgi, then sooyoung, and then yerim, gathering confidence and assurance in the determined gazes of her members.
from the side, their manager gives them a thumbs up before the first few beats of “happiness” begin to blare out from the speakers. joohyun loosens her stance, looks toward the crowd, and her performance smile slips on like a second skin.
just like that, they’re off.
—
three songs, a cover, and a brief closing to wrap up and thank everyone once again for watching later, joohyun is sweating beneath her makeup and taking measured sips of water from a bottle yerim pushes into her hands. they’re all exhausted, of course, but it’s with a feeling of exhilaration and completion, like they’re one step closer to something that’s just over the horizon.
she blames it on the satisfaction of a job well done for why she lets sooyoung tug her into her arms with little resistance, feeling their tallest member lean her weight against her back with a happy sigh of relief.
“that went well,” sooyoung slurs, too warm and breathy into her ear. joohyun half-heartedly swats her away with a little smile. “unnie, can you treat us to dinner tonight?”
“yah, you’re not even trying to hide what you’re doing,” joohyun grouses in disbelief, lightly smacking sooyoung’s arm.
“is it working?”
“no.”
“seulgi-unnieeeeee,” sooyoung calls cheerily, pushing away from joohyun to wrap herself around her other member, and joohyun barks out a laugh at the startled, confused expression on seulgi’s face.
“we’re leaving in five minutes,” one of their managers reminds them, looking up from her phone where yerim is peering at. she ruffles the maknae’s hair with a grin, and yerim squawks indignantly. “good job again, girls.”
joohyun smiles, a warm feeling in her chest from looking at all the people around her, the ones that she’s worked alongside for the past five years of training. there’s unbelievable energy and a kind of freedom of expression joohyun has only ever felt while performing, but in the aftermath of the adrenaline rush and in the dying light of the day, it’s these simple little moments that she somehow can’t help but treasure just as much.
a small flash of light comes from nearby followed by a shutter click, and joohyun whips her head around to look straight into the lens of a camera.
blue cap. it’s the person with the camera from earlier.
for a brief moment, joohyun feels a surge of pure panic as she wonders just why someone is taking pictures of her. does she have a stalker? is this for blackmail? or what if it isn’t her who’s being targeted, but one of her members?
and then she remembers that she’s an idol, that she just performed in public, and that she should be trying to smile instead of glare at what turns out to be a young woman with blonde hair and wide, apologetic eyes, clutching nervously at her camera as she gazes frozenly back at joohyun.
blue cap has a facemask on covering her up to her nose, and the brim of her hat is pulled down low over her head; yet despite how her eyes are the only visible part of her face, they seem incredibly expressive, enough so that joohyun thinks she can see every candid emotion written on her face.
instantly, joohyun feels regretful and embarrassed; she quickly changes her expression into something more friendly, lips tugging up in a sheepish smile as she gives a small wave.
appearing just as flustered as joohyun, blue cap ducks her head and lets go of her camera with one hand to timidly wave back. the action causes joohyun to realize how oddly small and . . . overall very harmless she looks. if she really is a stalker, her body language definitely doesn’t show it.
“unnie, who are you—omo, is that a fansite?” seulgi squeals excitedly, appearing by joohyun’s elbow and causing her to yelp and startle in surprise.
sooyoung laughs at her from where she’s draped over seulgi, and joohyun instinctively glares back before turning to her other member. “i—i think so?” joohyun says uncertainly, not actually sure at all. but if so, then for who?
“this unnie,” sooyoung sighs exasperatedly before seulgi can speak up, looking at joohyun like she knows exactly what she’s thinking, but nevertheless is still visibly fond. “unnie, i’m pretty sure that’s your fansite.”
another camera flash and click seems to confirm her words, as the three of them turn toward the stranger standing a few meters away. blue cap doesn’t look up from behind her camera this time, just keeps it trained on the three members, patient and steady, likely waiting for them to do something photo-worthy. joohyun is honestly still figuring out what exactly that entails.
“master-nim, do you have a fansite name?” sooyoung calls curiously, and seulgi winces and complains that she’s yelling in her ear.
joohyun watches, intrigued, as the fansite hastily stuffs a hand into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a nametag to attach to the top of her camera.
“winter purple,” seulgi reads slowly, squinting at the blocky english letters. she turns to joohyun with a beaming grin. “unnie, that’s your color!”
indeed, that is her color, both official and favourite. joohyun isn’t sure how to react; she feels frozen in place, a bit too shocked to really move. this could all be a coincidence, she thinks, still skeptical, still unwilling to believe. red velvet isn’t well-known, not even nearly as much as the other rookie groups that debuted this year. not to mention that a fansite can be for any one, any group, multiple idols at once. a single color means nothing.
but as she watches winter purple lower her camera once more to meet joohyun’s gaze, shy in her movements yet somehow conveying warmth in the way the corners of her eyes crinkle, the way she gives joohyun a slight, subtle nod, she finds herself believing otherwise.
“unnies, lets go,” yerim says, approaching the three of them. upon noticing the fansite standing a distance away with a camera, she gives a big grin accompanied by a wave, before pressing a hand against joohyun’s back to nudge her along. with one last glance at the girl in the blue cap, joohyun looks away and begins walking toward the van.
“who was that?” yerim asks them once they’re all piled into the car, their manager starting the engine.
“unnie’s fansite,” seulgi says excitedly with a clap, and yerim’s eyes widen in surprise, turning to joohyun for confirmation. joohyun can only nod slowly in return, still trying to convince herself that it’s true.
“really? how do you know?”
“she was taking pictures of joohyun-unnie during the performance and also after,” sooyoung pipes in while joohyun reaches over for their manager’s phone. “also, she looked like she knew we were scheduled to busk here.”
“i can’t believe i missed all of this,” yerim says with a huff, pouting. she quickly dodges sooyoung’s attempt to grab at her cheeks. “i hope we get more fans from here on out.”
“we will, especially since kang seulgi is treating us all to a celebratory dinner tonight,” sooyoung replies with a smug look, and seulgi immediately begins to protest otherwise, pushing weakly at sooyoung’s shoulder from across the van.
as the murmurs of her members’ conversation fills the car, joohyun looks down at the website from her search results, heart hammering in her chest. the tips of her ears flush as she gazes back at a photo of herself from their debut stage, taking in the proud, determined smile on her own face.
if that isn’t enough proof, enough hope, then it’s in the caption that she’s faced with the truth of it all:
“winter purple
dedicated to red velvet’s irene.”
#wenrene#irene#wendy#red velvet#a language offstage#idol/fansite au#hmmhmm#okay now we just pray i can actually write all of this out or ill stab myself in the foot#also honestly#idol industry tough#in ways i and many others will likely never understand#theres a lot of serious aspects about it i wont be able to accurately portray#so this will be basically a fluff train with minimal angst
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watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan
there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.
warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial
w/c: 3.1k
a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!
in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?
he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.
[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?
[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??
iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?
[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.
[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question
[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?
[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda
[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this
[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it
[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata
iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?
[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...
[06:45 AM] hinata: YES
[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question
[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto
[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this
[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too
[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up
[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum
he chuckled in disbelief.
[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum
[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??
[06:47 AM] miya: NO
[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM
[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO
[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think
he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.
[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable
[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen
[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^
[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it
[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too
[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out
[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb
[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.
[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out
[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least
iwaizumi sighed.
[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman
to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.
you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.
“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.
“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”
you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”
at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”
after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”
“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”
“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”
“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”
you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”
and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.
practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere.
you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.
“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”
he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”
he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”
you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched.
you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.
there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.
"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.”
his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”
hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.
“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements.
“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.”
he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”
he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”
he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”
“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”
“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.
“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”
“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”
“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.
iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”
they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.
"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.
“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”
“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.
“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”
they nodded simultaneously.
“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”
suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”
hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”
iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”
his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”
“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.
“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”
you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”
your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.
a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.
“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix.
“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”
“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.
“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.
“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.”
their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs.
“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”
“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”
“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”
“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”
he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.
your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.
“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.
“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”
“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.
iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”
you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”
iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.
your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”
you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.
he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist.
he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”
© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.
#kinky.inky#haikyū!!#haikyuu smut#hq smut#haikyuu iwaizumi#iwaizumi smut#iwaizumi x reader#atsumu smut#hinata smut#bokuto smut#suna smut#sakusa smut#iwaizumi#sakusa#bokuto#hinata#suna#atsumu
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the great adventures of y/n, tubbo and jack - we built a boat
requested: yes/no
this is part 10 to the great adventures series
you didn’t actually expect to be filming a vlog with tubbo and jack today, you were spending one of you last days away from home with lani at the beach, not knowing that tubbo and jack would make you join them. you ended up finding several rocks you liked and ran off to pick them up thinking tubbo would like them, so you put them in your pocket. whilst you were collecting rocks, lani was on the phone to tubbo letting him know you were actually at the beach if he wanted you to join him in the vlog.
“wait y/ns there? put them on the phone.”
“they’re in the water.”
“why?”
“ill ask, Y/N WHY ARE YOU IN THE WATER?!”
“I FOUND A ROCK THAT MATCHES RANBOOS BRAND BUT A WAVE TOOK IT AWAY FROM ME AND IM NOT LETTING POSEIDON WIN!”
“yeah they’re fighting Poseidon, where are you going to be? ill bring them to you.”
few minutes later you made your way to lani drenched in water.
“i fell…stop laughing!”
“im not!”
“you’re eyes are literally watering because you’re holding in your laughter, anyway look what i got you!”
you placed a clear quartz crystal and a piece of sea glass in lanis hand.
“thank you y/n!! wait this isn’t like your other rocks?”
“i know!! it’s clear quartz and sea glass. i felt like you should have it! i think it’s because i won the battle with Poseidon!”
“you fell.”
“shut up!”
“are you staying at ours again tonight?”
“think so… wanna turn the crystal into a necklace?”
“definitely!”
lani ended up taking you to where tubbo was, but didn’t tell you what was happening, you only found out when you looked up to see jack recording you and lani.
“hold up, guest appearance.”
“oh hi lani…y/n, guess what?”
you looked down to see the boat.
“oh fuck no!”
you walked away laughing, tubbo followed after you dragging you back to the others.
“they said they can’t wait to go on the boat with us jack!”
“how likely is he to be able to build this?? how likely are me and y/n going to drown??”
“uhm good chances!”
“of what?”
“lani, am i going to live or die?”
you laughed as lani walked away shrugging.
“tubbo how much money did you spend on this…”
“£50.”
“oh great i’m drowning today!”
you stood next to jack tilting your head as tubbo attached the sail to the pole.
“just remember if you two die, i’m in your will.”
“i didn’t write a will.”
“well that was your first mistake y/n did!”
“tubbo gets my rock collection, tommy gets whatever he wants just not the rock collection, ranboo gets whatever tommy doesn’t want, and you get what ranboo doesn’t want.”
a few minutes later you helped tubbo put the sail up whilst jack stood filming you both.
“this looks unsafe..”
“and muddy.”
“it’s unsafe and muddy but we’re trying our best.”
“jack didn’t do anything.”
“rude!”
you stood next to lani trying to convince her to go on the boat so you didn’t have to as tubbo tried to lasso jack. after being told no several times, you stood with jack whilst tubbo began to tie a figure of 8, you watched as tubbo began teaching you how to actually tie a figure of 8 using a really morbid story.
“…heh”
“why was that so morbid?”
“we like death on the tubbo channel!”
“i want to go home!”
“no!”
“okay!”
the three of you began to carry the boat out to the sea, however you crashed into something straight away.
“could be worse…could have hit a member of the public.”
“IM TRYING!”
“i can tell…it’s not good enough but i can tell.”
“…TO HIT SOMEONE!”
“NO!”
“my bad T bo!”
“what the fuck did you call me?”
as you were getting ready to go down the ramp, lani looked directly at you and tubbo who were now trying to push each other into the water.
“try not to hit little people in the water!”
“little people…”
“shall we waterproof up?”
you turned around a minute later only to have tubbo holding his phone up to your face after annoying jack with it .
“say hello.”
“hi there , please send help. i’m going to die!”
“ignore y/n, they’re just dramatic..i wouldn’t let them drown.”
you helped tubbo get the boat into the water as jack filmed the pair of you .
“it’s cold.”
“i’ve been in here before…i fell.”
“how cold was it?”
“very.”
“the weed of the sea is in my feet.”
“ew! what the fuck!”
lani noticed you had all let go of the boat and yelled at you all to grab the boat before it left you all behind, jack, and tubbo got in the boat, however you refused as lani kept yelling that the trailer was on.
“oh we’ve left the trailer on.”
“that’s what lani has been saying.”
tubbo got off to untie the trailer and you stood nervously laughing as the wheel fell off .
“i'm actually going to die!”
“it’s fineee!”
you helped jack get out the boat, so you could all fix the boat.
“he thinks we could be doing better.”
“i think everyone could think that.”
jack got on the boat first, then tubbo, who then helped you get onto the boat.
“off we go!”
for the first five minutes, the three of you sat yelling at each other what you all should be doing to make the boat go forwards.
“i quite like this.”
“we’re not moving!”
“exactly!”
soon enough you had figured it all out and waved goodbye to the others after they gave you a thumbs up.
“TO FRANCE!”
“so now what do we do?”
“pray.”
“heh?”
“to what?”
“god..say your final goodbyes we’re going to die!”
“hey that rhymed, you’re a genius!”
at this point the boat had completely stopped moving, however tubbo didn’t think this was the case, and began trying to turn the boat around as it was apparently going to shore, despite the fact you and jack were telling him you all hadn’t moved.
“so what’s the sail for?”
“i mean jack has a point you are paddling.”
“luck!”
“….HEH?”
“y/n you talk to technoblade too much.”
“i’ve been saying heh before i met tommy, what the fuck?”
“jack go up to the front, so y/n can sit next to me.”
jack moved and you sat next to tubbo.
“so how long does it take to go to france?”
“ahh you know, about 20 minutes.”
“how fast do you think we’re going bud?”
“on a, on a, on a train.”
“how would you get the train?”
“i don’t think the train can go across this..”
rather than answering that question tubbo decided he made a hit list.
“we’re going to just go through here.”
“…through where?”
“between the people.”
“NO!”
“you’re creating unnecessary danger.”
you and tubbo started bickering about why he suddenly decided that he was going to hit a bunch of people with the boat for no reason.
“fine you take control y/n!”
“tubbo you were going to kill them!”
“that’s just part of the sailing life!”
you just stared at tubbo shaking your head slightly, trying to process what just happened, then all of a sudden tubbo got up and put you in charge of controlling the boat. you were surprisingly good at it, which was lucky for tubbo and jack who were now leaning out of the boat claiming that they were hiking. they only stopped when the boat began to go faster and noticed you had no idea what you were doing.
“y/n is going to be the reason we crash!”
“yeah i will!”
“why do you sound happy about that?”
“eta france?”
“any second now.”
you decided to focus on making sure the boat was going where you wanted it to go, whilst the others yelled out to the sea occasionally yelling phrases in french as they claimed they could see the french. well you think tubbo was yelling phrases in french, however halfway through you were convinced he started just yelling things in a french accent as he revealed he didn’t actually know french, resulting in jack asking to go to russia as he knows russian.
“y/n, sail is to russia!”
“you know what i don’t wanna drive here you go jack it’s your turn.”
“I DONT KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!”
“we’re sick of this shit aren’t we y/n, jack take that…you’re on the wrong side switch sides with us.”
you all swapped sides and you and tubbo sat with your arms around each other instructing jack how to sail .
“yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“thats good now turn us and we’ll be in the wind.”
“we’re about to catch the wind.”
“JACK MANIFOLD GET READY!”
you all swapped sides again and tubbo whispered in your ear, as you sat next to him, about making the boat capsize so jack would go into the water, jack ended up doing a lot better than you and tubbo did, and you all actually started going pretty fast. however, there was absolutely no way you’d get to land any time soon. you sat laughing with tubbo whilst jack yelled about how he was a fisherman, and that’s why he was doing so well and how he studied their fins so he could find out how fish swim.
“for a £50 boat it’s done us well, look we’re sailing, the water cleaned the boat.”
“we havent died.”
“im a little wet, but not too bad.”
“must be nice.”
“oh yeah you fell earlier.”
“how?”
“they were fighting Poseidon.”
“huh?”
“they probably found a rock they liked and went to get it but it ended up in water.”
“…yeah.”
you all ended up catching the wind and tubbo decided to make you and jack do reaction images.
“help girl, i don’t know how to sail.”
“okay jack your turn, drive and film.”
“hey look i’m filming and driving!”
“no film me and y/n!”
jack filmed the pair of you, tubbo had his arm around you to prevent you from falling out of the boat as you had a habit of leaning out the boat to touch the water. you had no idea what to do so ended up copying tubbo, the pair of you took off your hats .
“tips fedora…what do you want to name our boat?”
“tubboat!”
“no way..”
“THE TUBBOATS REAL NOW!!”
it was around now you and tubbo claimed you were all drifting out to sea, and to just let the wind take you wherever it wants to, whereas jack claimed the boat wasn’t moving at all. you pointed at a boat which was moving a lot quicker than you were.
“HES GOT WIND!”
“WHERES OUR WIND?”
“he stole our wind.”
“we’re stranded jack,y/n.”
you noticed lani and waved out to her.
“LANI!”
“jacks sailing, hes getting sailing tips from my cousins!”
“great can he take us to land?”
“no.”
“YO WERE ZOOMING!”
“i hope we don’t capsize..”
“why would we?”
tubbo looked at you and you nodded back at him.
“hey jack we’re gonna tip this boat!”
and with that the pair of you stood up and began tipping the boat over whilst laughing.
“SUCKER WERE STILL DRY!”
“tubbo i’m about to fall!”
tubbo grabbed your hand keeping you up on the boat with him, you both even managed to get back in the boat without getting wet.
“no, if i’m in you have to be in too.”
jack pushed tubbo into the water tubbo then went on to pull you into the water with him.
“NO!”
“IM FREEZING!”
tubbo helped you onto the boat first as this was the second time you ended up in the water, and you were quite clearly cold, he got on after you. you sat on the boat as he filmed the outro and jumped back into the water. once jack ended the recording, you reached out your hand to tubbo helping him back onto the boat. the way back to shore was you and tubbo clinging onto each other trying to warm up, and the three of you making shit jokes, and enjoying each other’s company. you even made a few more plans for when ranboos in the uk. few hours later you had said goodbye to jack and went back to tubbos house, tubbo let you shower first while he stayed with lani as she streamed.
“chuck your clothes outside the door, i’ll put them in the dryer whilst you shower. you can change into these.”
tubbo gave you a hoodie from his merch collection that would be dropping soon, along with your pyjama pants, 30 minutes later you sat with lani whilst tubbo went off to shower, lani ended up finishing the stream after 15 minutes.
“wanna make the necklaces lani?”
“i’d love to!”
not long later tubbo joined the pair of you.
“oooh tubbo i got you some more rocks, they're over there with your phone.”
you ended up making a couple of them into necklaces for him, so the the three of you had something to help you remember the day.
“y/n, i hope you’re enjoying your stay, youll practically be living here for a few month soon.”
“wait their parents said yes?!”
“what are you all talking about?”
taglist:
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#mcyt x reader#mcyt fanfiction#mcyt writing#mcyt imagines#mcyt imagine#mcyt reader insert#mcyt fluff#dsmp reader insert#dsmp imagine#dsmp fanfic#tubbo x y/n#tubbo x you#tubbo imagine#tubbo x reader#tubbo fluff#jack manifold imagine#jack manifold fluff#jack manifold x y/n#jack manifold x you#jack manifold x reader
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Kind of want this adventure to be over.
Bruce Banner x Daughter!reader
Summary: You have finally found your father...just not the way you expected. You sort out your feelings and have some realizations about people in your life.
You felt sick.
You couldn’t believe it. There he was. Your father, the man who has been missing for four years.
He was here, being forced to slaughter people as a gladiator on a whole different planet.
So many questions were running through your mind. How did he get here? Why hasn’t he escaped? How long has he been the Hulk?
You watch as Thor attempts to talk to him, but... it was almost like Hulk...like the attention. You watch in horror as Hulk charged at Thor. Throwing him into the wall. Both you and Loki looked at each other in concern, then glance at the Grandmaster who watched in glee.
You felt dizzy as you watched you father pummel his teammate. It was like he didn’t recognize him. He fought viscously. You cringed when you saw him slam Thor on the floor.
“YES!” Loki shouts, startling you and the Grandmaster, “THATS HOW IT FEELS!”
You both stare at him, alarmed at the sudden outburst.
“I’m just a big fan of the sport...” He chuckles awkwardly.
He sits back down and looks at you. Concerned as you looked grey, like you were going to be sick.
He strokes your back comfortly, “ Y/n, if you need to step out...”
“I can’t...I have to stay...” You whisper, watching Thor get beat by the Hulk. You prayed that he would get up. Then it happened.
A bolt of lighting shot the Hulk off of Thor. Then he rises, lighting engulfing his hands. The two charge at each other, and Thor starts to gain the upper hand. You breath a sigh of relief. The audience eats it up. Chanting “Thunder”, but the Grandmaster does not seem happy. Just as Thor was about to finish the fight, he was stunned by something, leaving him motionless on the ground.
You freeze, watching as your father leaped into the air and came down, smashing Thor into the ground and knocking him out. Finishing the match. You turn to see the Grandmaster lean back in pleasure.
“So, how do you like it?” He asks casually.
You can barely speak. Too shook up to even form a thought. Seeing your unease Loki spoke for you.
“It was very intense. A very entertaining fight indeed.” He says with a smile.
“What’s wrong with the kid?” the Grandmaster asks taking in your pale face. “ She does not look good.”
“Yes! Well, um, it seems as though she has eaten something that made her sick. Perhaps it was the jar jar fruit”
“Oh no,” The Grandmaster states, “This is terrible.”
“Yes well--”
“I had a whole bowl!”
“Yes...I’d better take her to her room. Rest shall do her some good.”
Then Loki rises and helps you to your feet. He leads you through the crowds of people.
You can barely walk. You don’t know why you’re reacting like this. You knew your father was here.
Maybe it was because of how gruesome this fight could have been. Or maybe because you knew that for four years, your dad has been trapped as the Hulk, murdering aliens as a gladiator for some old lunatic. And it seemed like he liked it.
Your legs grow weak and you nearly topple to the ground.
“Woah, easy.” Loki says, “ Darling, take it slow.”
“I- I think I’m going to throw up” And then you lean over, throwing up into a plant.
“Ew.” Loki says, watching you defile that poor plant.
You wipe your mouth and try to stand, you sway a but, almost falling to the ground. Loki then sighs and scoops you up.
Your face burns, “ I’m sorry...”
“Shut up. I shouldn’t have made you go anyways.”
You stay silent. Resting your head on his chest as he walks you to your room.
“You know...my dad never did this...” You whisper. Loki looks down at you in confusion.
“Did what?”
“ Carry me to my room. Especially if I was sick.”
“Oh..” Loki says, not really knowing how to respond.
“My mom was the one who did all that. But then...she got sick and...” You trail off. It was rare when you thought about your mom. It hurt to remember all the good times the three of you had, so like your father, you pushed it all down.
“My mother did that too..” Loki muttered. He walked into your room and set you on the bed.
“Get changed and lay down. I shall be back in a moment.” Then he walks out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You change clothes and ay down. Trying to wrap your head around what just happened.
Your father was here. You found him.
But he was the Hulk and basically a gladiator.
He’s been here for four years. Killing people for sport.
“God, I may have seen some weird shit living with the Avengers but this really takes the cake”, You think to yourself, shifting under the covers. You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the ceiling. After a few moments you heard the door open. It was Loki holding a tray of food.
“Here, this should make you feel better.” He says placing the tray in your lap. It consisted of a plate of some kind of soup, some cracker like snack, and a glass of water.
“I know it looks heavy, but it made me feel better when I was a child and ill. Although, the one made by the cooks back home may have tasted better.” Loki rambles, “I do think I did pretty well, considering the circumstances.”
Seeing this side of Loki was shocking. Sure, you both had your moments and you knew he cared about you, but you thought it was more like a forced partnership. But, he could have left you here alone and he didn’t. He went out of way to make you something so you’d feel better. You can feel your eyes water.
And for the first time since you’ve been on Sakaar, you cried. You cried because you haven’t seen your father for four years. You cried because you were on a completely different planet, millions of light years away from your home. You cried because Loki was being so kind.
You cried cause you were scared. You felt like you were in over your head, like you can’t do anything but wait. You have no idea what you’re going to do from here on out and it terrifies you.
Then you feel a cold hand on your shoulder. You look up to see sad green eyes. Then you’re pulled into a hug.
“I know.” Loki says softly, “It is overwhelming, and you’re still a child.”
You take a deep breath, taking in the scent of leather and something sweet. You then closed your eyes sinking into the embrace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In another part of the castle, Thor had just woken up. Scaring the crap out of the women who were tending to his wounds.
He painfully stands up, looking around the room he was in. It wasn’t like the first cell he was in. No, this one was actually clean. It didn’t smell like body fluids or...death. It was red and white, with weapons and armor laying around. He can see a large bed and a hot tub in the room.
Thor looks out the window, taking in the scenery and trying to figure out a way to escape. He’s startled out of his thoughts by a splash. He turns to see the Hulk in the tub, sitting in the shadows.
“...Are we cool?” He asks, holding his hands up in surrender.
He doesn’t get a response, just a low growl. But he isn’t attacked so Thor takes it as a a sign. He goes to the window again and mutters to himself, “Huh, a Hulk in a hot tub.”
Then he turns to Hulk, “ How long have you been like that?
“Like what?” Hulk grunts
“Like this. Big, green, and...stupid”
Hulk sits up slightly, half of his face in the shadows, “Hulk always Hulk.”
Thor doesn’t respond, opting to look out the window again, then he realizes,
“How’d you get here?”
“Winning” Hulk says proudly.
Thor rolls his eyes, “ Do you mean cheating? Did they have one of these shocky things on their necks? I meant, how did you arrive here.”
Hulk imitates a whooshing and crashing noise, “Quinjet.”
Thor gets excited, “ Yes! Okay and where is the quinjet now?”
Hulk doesn’t respond, instead he gets out of the tub. The only problem is that he didn’t have a towel...or anything to cover himself. Giving Thor a good look at his goods.
“That’s naked...very naked” Thor says cringing. “ That’s in my brain now.”
“Quinjet.” Hulk says, pointing to where the plane is. Uncaring about the state of undress he was in.
Thor gets excited again, “Yes! I can get us home, off of this awful planet. You’ll love Asgard! It’s like earth but gold”
“Hulk stays.” Hulk grunts, taking a bit out of some fruit.
“What? No no no, I need your help to prevent Ragnarok.” Thor says desperately.
“Ragnarok?” Hulk questions uncaringly.
“Yes, its the destruction of my home planet, the end of times.”
“Thor go. Hulk stay.” Hulk says stubbornly.
Thor is desperate. He needs to get home before Hela completely destroys everything he holds dear.
‘Look, I’ll tell you what, you help be get to Asgard, and I’ll help you get back to earth.’
“ Earth hate Hulk.”
“What?” Thor exclaims, “ Everyone loves Hulk! You’re part of the team, you’re our friend!”
“Banner’s friend.” Hulk grunts, not believing a word Thor is saying.
“WHat? I don’t even prefer Banner” Thor says awkwardly, “ He’s all ‘ NUmbErs aND SCienCe’ and stuff.”
“Banners friend!” Hulk exclaims.
By now Thor is frustrated, “Fine. You stay here on this awful planet. Besides this room his hideous. The red and white, like just pick a color.”
“Smash you.” Hulk grunts
“You didn’t smash me, I won that fight.”
“Smash you!” Hulk throws the fruit at Thor.
Thor dodges it calling Hulk a baby. He heads toward the entrance that is left open.
“Thor go!” Hulk shouts.
“I am going!” Thor shouts back, but before he can step out of the room he’s shocked. The obedience puck stunning him
As he falls to the ground, he can hear Hulk laugh.
“Thor no go. Thor home.”
He sighs, looking out the window. He briefly hears Hulk say something about training. Then he sees her. The woman who got him into this mess in the first place.
She pays no mind to him, instead greeting Hulk like they were long time friends.
They go train, leaving Thor alone with his thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You wake up in the dark room. It seems that Loki has left as you were alone. Your eyes sore from crying, you look around for your bag. You find it, pulling out your phone, earbuds, and journal.
You write your feelings as you listen to music.
You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to go find your father and Thor, but another part trusts Loki and wants to stay. It doesn’t help that he has been the most fatherly figure you’ve had in a while.
Sure you had the Avengers. You could even argue that Tony has filled that role of father figure since your dad went missing. But, you and Loki formed a tight bond in a few days that took months for you and Tony to form. You both got along well, bonding over distant fathers, dead mothers, and theater. Not to mention you both had a sarcastic attitude. If anything, he’s taken over a big brother role, but nevertheless; betraying his trust was one thing that you couldn’t do.
You sigh, knowing what you were going to do.
You were going to find your father.
So you get out of bed and change into your suit. You put your phone in your stuff in your bag and grab your weapons.
You walk down the hallways, not knowing where to begin to find your father. Then an idea hits you. If you can find out where Thor is, you’d most likely find out where your dad is. So with that in mind you decided to ask a guard.
“Excuse me.” You say to a red guard, “ Do you know where the …”Lord of Thunder” is staying? The Grandmaster allowed me to go and meet him. I am a big fan”
The guard hesitated, not knowing who you were. But since you dropped the Grandmasters name, he pointed you to the hallway Thor was supposedly in.
“Thank you!” You beamed, making sure to skip away as if you were a fan. You skip till you were out of sight and sigh, slowing down to a walk. You strolled down the hallways, throwing fake smiles at the guards you passed.
Finally, you reached a room at the end of the hallway. You notice a woman pass you and walk staright into the room. You hide behind a wall and listen to the conversation.
“Hey big guy!” She says, you notice that she has an accent similar to Thor’s.
“Angry girl!” another voice says...Your fathers voice. You can hear footsteps coming your way. You quickly pull out your phone and sit down, hoping they’ll walk right past you. You don’t need Hulk seeing you right now. If anything, he’d change back to Bruce and that’ll cause a whole bunch of problems.
Thankfully, they pay no mind to you. You watch as they joke around and nudge each other. It’s strange, seeing the Hulk to at ease with another person.
It kind of hurts, in the same way it hurt to see your dad with Natasha. It was like you couldn’t get close to either side of him. Or he chose not to get close to you.
Pushing away your feelings, you get back to the mission, finding Thor.
You head to the room at the end of the hallway. Surprisingly, there were no guards or even a door blocking your way. You can see Thor, standing by the window. His back was turned to you but he was completely still.
You walk through the door way, and look around the room. It was messy and kinda ugly. The red and white really didn’t clash well.
Then you were startled by Thor loudly gasping. You run up to where he was.
“Thor? Thor are you alright?”
He focuses on you, eyes widening at your presence.
“Y/n?” He says slowly, “ Y/n?! What are you doing here?”
“The Dr. Wizard said my dad was here. So I came looking for him...” You say slowly. “ Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better.” Thor laughs, “ Have...have you been here this whole time?”
“Yeah, I got here the same day Loki did, so about two weeks ago. Since then I--”
“Wait, have you been with Loki this whole time?” Thor asks.
“Yeah, he’s the reason I’m still alive to be honest.” You say, “ He helped me get in favor of the Grandmaster and he’s been looking out for me ever since.”
“Loki?” Thor says in disbelief, “ My brother, Loki? He has been taking care of you?”
“Yeah, I didn’t believe it either...but he’s been so kind to me, Thor. Kinder than anyone has been in a while.” You say softly.
Thor smiled, he was glad that there was still a part of the Loki he knew growing up. That you were alright.
“You look awesome.” He says taking in your outfit, “Where did you get those clothes?!”
You laugh, “ It seems like the Grandmaster likes to give make overs.” You look at Thor, “ Dude they cut your hair?!”
“Yeah some creepy old man cut it off.” He says, suddenly he pulls you in for a hug. “ I am beyond glad to see you here.”
You blush and hug him back, “I’m glad you are okay.’
Then you frown, “ My...my dad...he’s here.”
Thor freezes, “ Oh Y/n I completely forgot..”
“It’s okay... he looks fine” You say bitterly, remembering how chummy he was with that girl.
“ He can’t know I am here.” You say quickly, “ If he does, he’ll change back and raise suspicion.”
“I need help to get out of here.” Thor says, “ Asgard is in danger.”
“Why don’t you just walk out the door?” You ask
“Because, this neck thingy shocks me whenever I try to leave.” Thor says showing you his neck.
“Ohh so that’s why you lost the fight,” You say realizing what happened.
“I dis not lose” Thor said, “Your father cheated.”
You snicker, “What ever you say Lord of Thunder.”
Thor sighs at the name, knowing that you weren’t going to stop calling him that.
“Y/n, I need you to help me get out.” Thor says desperately. You furrow your brow, thinking of a way to get him out of here.
“Okay...I have an idea.”
You spend the next thirty minutes comin up with an idea. Revising and editing ideas that’ll get him out of here unscathed.
That’s when you realized that you shouldn’t be here when Hulk gets back.
“I have to go.” You say quickly, gathering all your stuff.
“Wait, wait, how are you going to escape...” Thor says worriedly. “ Your father doesn’t even know your here.”
You sigh sadly, “ I doubt he cares. He seems pretty content here.”
“Y/n, that’s Hulk, not Banner. Your father loves you.”
You chuckle, “ You know, in last few weeks. Loki showed he cared about me more than my father has in all the years I’ve been alive.”
“Oh...that’s bad.” Thor says, because if you knew Loki cared about you and not your father...that was saying a lot.
“Good luck Thor, I better go before some guards show up.” You say, patting his arm and dashing off. And again, Thor was alone.
Running through the hallways, you bump into someone. You fall to the ground in a huff.
“Watch where you’re walking!”
“Sorry dude, jeez don’t get your undies in a twist.” You say, getting up from the ground. You look up to see the girl who was with the Hulk.
“Do..do I know you? You look familiar.” She says, closely looking at your face.
“Umm, I tell stories to the Grandmaster.” You say quickly, “I better go.”
Then you run off again, leaving a confused Valkyrie behind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You finally make it to your room. Panting as you close the door.
“Where have you been.”
You jump, not expecting anyone to be in your room.
“Relax, its just me.” Loki says, rolling his eyes, “ Now, where were you? I came back into your room, expecting to find you in bed, resting.”
“Sorry, I... I went to see Thor.” You say honestly.
“Y/n.” Loki starts, but you interrupt him.
“I know! I know I shouldn’t have gone, but I felt really bad and wanted to make sure he was okay.”
Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked at your face, seeing your guilty eyes and frown. He’s demeanor softened, “ You are too kind for your own good.”
You chuckled, “Well, one of us has to have redeemable qualities.”
“Hey!” Loki shouts offended. You laugh at his face.
“I can get used to this” You think to yourself. You yawn, suddenly tired from all your activities.
“Get some rest.” Loki says, “You’ll need it’”
Then he leaves the room after ruffling your hair.
As you get ready for bed and finally lay down, you realize you can’t sleep.
You have a crushing feeling that something big was going to happen the next day.
#bruce banner x daughter!reader#bruce banner x reader#bruce banner imagine#loki x reader#loki x teen!reader#loki x poc!reader#thor odison x reader#thor ragnarok#Thor Odinson#thor ragnorak#poc reader#marvel x reader#marvel
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The Ant King
Note: Huge thanks to Bittydragon for inspiring me to write this. I’ll be honest, this is the first fic I've ever actually written, as well as the only piece of creative fiction I've written in like two years so… fingers crossed it goes well hahaha.
TW: tight spaces, darkness, uh,,, bugs i guess. Near death experience
There are things you have to know about ants when you get an ant farm. Basic fundamentals. What to feed them, how to keep them alive, what type of ants you have, etcetera. Even if your intentions were… torturous. After all, you need to know what makes something tick in order to make it stop.
One of the more common facts about ants is that every colony has a queen. She orders her ants to keep her alive so she can make more ants. Simple biology, the continuation of a species. Every nest has a queen, or it dies.
Apparently, this colony didn’t get the memo.
These thoughts buzzed in grumpy circles around Wilbur's’ head as he followed his ant companion, Tommy, deeper into the ant-farm. They had been wandering these tunnels for what felt like days now, in the center of the farm so there were no glass barriers to show the outside world. They were deep too. Almost at the bottom of the compound. Wilbur was not one to show fear, but even he was beginning to get claustrophobic.
Tommy, who up until now had been jabbering like a toddler the whole trip through the ant-farm had also gone uncharacteristically silent. The whole trip Wilbur had wanted nothing more than a few seconds of quiet from him, but now he missed the carefree noise.
They were on their way to see the ant King. A type of ant that, as far as Wilbur knew, didn’t exist. So either they were on a wild goose chase, or Will was way out of his depth.
The further they went, the more he was convinced it was the latter.
“Tommy do you-” Wilbur paused, his echoing voice in the tunnel almost felt like a taboo. An affront to the maddening silence that stalked them. He lowered his voice.
“Do you think… Will I ever get back to normal? Will the ant king change me back?” He hated that little quiver in his voice. He hated the uncertainty. The waiting.
Tommy continued to march forward silently, pondering the question.
“I dunno big man, I think you’ve changed heaps since you got here.” He turned his head to flash Wilbur a grin “Then you’ll be out there and all nice n shit. It’ll be poggers.”
The tunnel was dark, but not dark enough to hide the flash of uncertainty in Tommy’s eyes.
Wilbur's heart sank. “Thanks mate.” He mumbled, and they trekked on, once more in silence.
By the time they saw light, it felt like they had been walking for days. Wilbur was almost glad he was about to meet possibly one of the most powerful ants in this colony. They rounded one last bend, and they were there.
Before them stood a huge double door set in the wall. Two vines with some kind of glowing fruit framed the door, shedding light on the small space. In front of the door, leaning on a spear made from a twig was another ant with a pair of large white rimmed goggles.
“Well… This is it I guess.” Wilbur muttered. He cleared his throat “Hey, um. I-i’m here to have an audience with the King? If that's alright.”
The guard ant didn’t respond, continuing to stare at them with no discernible expression.
“H-hello?” Wilbur glanced at Tommy, who shrugged.
“Excuse me? Anyone home?” Wilbur snapped his fingers in front of the ant's face.
He seemed to startle slightly, before slumping down a bit and letting out a loud snore.
“What the fuck” Tommy said.
Before anyone could do much of anything, one of the massive double doors creaked open and a voice came through.
“George, I swear if you fell asleep again, I'm going to rip off your antenna and use them as- oh.”
Another ant entered the room, this one also carried a twig-spear and had a strip of white cloth tied around his forehead. As soon as his gaze landed on Wilbur, his expression soured.
If looks could kill… Wilbur thought nervously
“It’s you” The new ant spat “Took your sweet time getting here Soot. Earthquake slow you down? Didja get a taste of your own medicine from your big pals out there?”
Wilbur pursed his lips, and the ant snorted. “Yeah. Thought so.” He walked forward and gave George a hard shove, sending the other ant sprawling with a startled yelp.
“Sapnap what the hell?!” He snapped, before spotting Wilbur and Tommy. “Oh hey. That guy is here.”
“Yeah he’s here, idiot.” Sapnap smacked George over the head with his spear “And we would have known a lot sooner if you hadn't fallen asleep on duty again!”
“OW! Sapnap stop! Get off me!”
Wilbur cleared his throat, drawing their attention “Sorry to interrupt, but me and my friend have been walking for a long, long time, so could we please have an audience with the King?”
Subpoena glared “Yeah. He’s waiting for you. Against my advice, he wants to see you.”
Oh. That… didn’t sound great.
Wilbur tried not to think about the implications of that statement as he approached the double doors. Tommy moved to follow, but was stopped by the guards.
“Hey!” He groused “Let me through dickheads!”
“I'm afraid the King only wants an audience with the great and powerful Wilbur Soot” Sapnap said with a smirk.
“But I want to go too! Let me in! You stupid ugly bitch ill fight you! You may have a fancy stick but just wait until I pull out my knife-gun!”
“Tommy its fine.” Wilbur interrupted “I’ll be fine mate, promise. Just wait here. I wont leave without saying goodbye.”
The last thing he saw was Tommy’s antenna drooping sadly, before the doors swung closed behind him.
If Wilbur thought the tunnel was dark before, that was nothing compared to the room he was in now. The darkness was so thick, so absolute, that it made no difference if his eyes were open or closed.
“Hello?” Wilbur called “Uh… your majesty? I was told that you wanted to see me.”
His voice echoed slightly in the huge space, but there was no reply.
Wait. What was that? Something rasped ever so slowly across the opposite wall. Something big. As it moved, the moss where it had been standing glowed a dull green.
Bio-luminescence Wilbur reasoned. Trying to distract himself from the fear creeping up his spine. Touch activated, it seems.
He swallowed dryly “L-look, just tell me what you want. I’m not here to cause trouble”
The thing moved again, its raspy scuttle reverberated through the chamber.
“Wilbur Soot, not here to cause any trouble” A thoughtful voice hummed from the dark “Now that’s a first.”
The bio-luminescent moss was lighting up more of the room. If he squinted, Wilbur could make out a... leg. Probably.
Wilbur inches slowly to the side, the moss lighting up his own path. “Okay, I get it, I've done morally questionable things in the past, but I've learned a lot from my time here. I’m sorry.”
“For now” The voice replied. The thing was moving on the other side, matching him step for step. “What's to say you aren't faking remorse to get out of here? And maybe you really are sorry. How can I be sure you wont change your mind the second you're back to normal? It's too much of a risk.”
Wilbur continued to back away nervously “Your majesty-”
“Please, call me Dream. Everyone else does.”
“Right… Dream. I can say with 100% certainty that won't happen. I've seen people die in front of me. That’s enough to change anyone's stance on something.”
“And yet I'm still not convinced.” It was moving faster now, scuttling across the floor, walls and even across the ceiling. Wilbur's head spun with the motion. “And since we’re talking in hypotheticals, riddle me this: Whoever said I was going to let you out anyway? What if I just like to play with my food?”
Dream stopped suddenly, rearing over Wilbur, and with all of the lit up moss, he got his first proper look.
This ant was huge. Twice- no, at least three times the size of Wilbur himself. He looked a bit like a centaur, with a human torso connected to a pure white and thorax and abdomen.He also wore a strange white mask with a blank eyed smiley face drawn on.
Two huge claw arms- similar to those of a praying mantis- extended from Dreams waist and slammed into the dirt either side of Wilbur, startling him enough that he fell onto his ass. The king leaned forward with that lifeless grin, and Will closed his eyes, preparing for the end.
“But…” Dream said thoughtfully “A proper experiment should account and test for all variables, shouldn't it?”
“Y-yeah generally” Wilbur stuttered
“Oh good.” Dream hoisted him roughly to his feet. “I’m glad I asked you. After all, you know all about experiments, don’t you?”
Wilbur chose not to answer, glowering at Dream as the eyes on his mask briefly glowed a dull green.
A moment later, Sapnap and George marched in, dragging a cussing and struggling Tommy behind them.
“YOU STUPID MOTHEFUCKERS!!! Let me go or ill get married in rage!! Fuck you and-! Oh. wow that is a big fella.” Tommy stopped and stared in awe at Dream
“Sapnap, give Wilbur your spear.” Dream ordered.
A flicker of doubt crossed Sapnaps face but he obediently shoved the spear into Wilbur's hands.
“I’ll make you a deal, Wilbur Soot.” Dream purred, circling him. “I will let you go to your old life. You can do whatever you like; kill us, torment us, throw us away… it doesn't matter. All you have to do is kill one ant.” He gestured to Tommy.
“What?” Wilbur whispered.
“WHAT?!” Tommy roared “fuck you! I'm not your dumb-ass pawn, I'm going to kill you! Rrrrrrrrrrr!” he writhed, attempting to bite George who did a surprisingly good job of holding him still.
“Go on.” Dream cooed “It's just one insignificant ant standing between you and freedom. You've killed hundreds. What's one more?”
Spear in hand, Wilbur took a hesitant step forward.
Tommy's gaze snapped up “Wilby?” He asked, his struggling pausing for a moment.
Their eyes met, fear clashing with sorrow. Tommy seemed to see something in Wilbur's expression and hung his head in defeat. As if he had expected Wilbur to betray him.
Oh hell no. Fuck that. Wilbur angrily tossed the spear aside.
“No. I won't.”
“What?” Dream spat
Wilbur rounded on him “No! I won't kill him! Keep me here, kill me, hunt me for sport, whatever! Just leave him out of this! Tommy has been nothing but nice to me since I met him, even though it don't deserve it!” He rubbed his arm. “God knows I don't deserve it.”
“Hmm…” Dream hummed “Are you sure, even if it costs you your life?” One of Dream's massive claw arms grazed his side, a subtle threat.
Wilbur looked over at Tommy, who had a look of hope on his face.
“Yeah.” Will smiled, “I'm sure.”
I probably could have written more, but i wont. I hope you like this fic bitty! Thanks for reading :)
Edit: Fortune, this is amazing! Like, I hadn't really thought about this encounter in a lot of detail, but I honestly like this a lot! And Dream being a big boy since he's the king ant. Just yes. Thank you so much for this.
#submission#fan work#tiny!tommy#tiny!wilbur#tiny!dream#tiny!sapnap#tiny!george#giant!dream?#maybe?#mcyt gt#thank you again!#betmyfortune
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Love and Medicine ~ 8
MASTERLIST
< previous chapter
Word Count: 4,175ish
Summary: Your roommates are annoyed and Gamora is determined to make you jump through hoops.
Notes: This is based off of Grey’s Anatomy 1x07. I do not own Marvel or Grey’s Anatomy.
When your alarm went off, you were naked in your bed. With a naked Steve beside you. A small groan passing between his lips, Steve reached around you to turn off the alarm clock and then cuddled into you.
“Hmmm,” you hummed, enjoying his arms around you way too much. “You have to get up now.”
“What?” Steve mumbled, half asleep. “What time is it?”
You smirked, rolling on top of him. “It’s 5:20, and I have pre-rounds. And you,” you booped his nose, “have to leave before they see you.”
You gave him a small kiss before rolling off of him.
“Oh, come on, now,” Steve grumbled. “Why don’t you just let them see?” He quickly rolled on top of you, pinning you down.
“No!”
“Please!”
“No! No!”
He began placing kisses all over you. Saying, ‘please’, between eat kiss.
“Steve!” You squealed. “St-stoppp!
~~~
“You two get any sleep?” Scott asked, walking into the kitchen where Val and Clint were eating.
“Oh, she could oil the bedsprings as a courtesy or at least buy a padded headboard,” Val complained.
“So, uh, who’s the guy?” Clint asked.
“You think it was just one guy doing all that work?”
“Yeah, do you mind if I don’t think about that?”
“Oh, you jealous, Barton?” Scott teased.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Well, I am,” Val responded. “But at least I know she’ll be having a long day at work.”
They all froze when they heard a floor board near the top of the stairs squeak. The three of them rushed over to the doorway, wanting to see who was coming down the stairs. Steve snuck down the stairs and out the door, seen by Val, Clint, and Scott.
“Well, at least we know that brain surgery isn’t his only skill,” Val commented, going to get more coffee.
“They—they can’t be…” Clint stared at the front door in shock. “He’s… he’s our boss.”
“Yep,” Scott replied, glancing at his watch. “We’re late. You know, she has been scrubbing in a lot lately on his surgeries.”
“No, Y/N wouldn’t sleep with him just to… no.”
“Well, if she’s not ashamed of it, why is she keeping it a secret?” Val wondered.
“Maybe she didn’t. Maybe it just happened. You know, spontaneously, last night.”
“Good morning,” you greeted, entering the kitchen.
“Morning,” Val and Scott responded.
“So…” Val started, “it sounded like you were having some pretty radical sex last night, all night long. Who was the guy?”
“No one you know,” you lied with a shrug.
Clint, Scott, and Val all gave each other a look.
“We’re late,” Scott said. “Let’s go.”
~~~
“I’m gonna beed a major rush to make it through this day,” Clint said in the locker room. “I need a kick-ass surgery.”
“Ooh, you a bad boy last night, Clint?” Peter taunted.
“No,” Val answered for him. “That would be Y/N.”
“You a bad boy, Y/N?”
“Do tell,” Natasha urged.
“Nothing to tell,” you shrugged.
“That says it all, huh?”
Val slammed her locker door shut, annoyed at your lies.
“Sorry, I have a sex life,” you apologized.
“Don’t apologize,” Peter said. “Embrace it. Share it. Count me in.”
“Yeah, next time, just let me know if I need to go to a hotel so I can get some sleep,” Val said.
“Am I missing something?” You asked.
“You were just a little loud,” Scott replied.
Everyone left except you and Natasha.
“Do they know it’s Captain McDreamy keeping them up all night?” Natasha asked.
“I hope not,” you answered. “I already have Gamora riding me, I don’t need my roommates thinking I’m getting special treatment.”
~~~
You yawned as you and Natasha met up with the other interns and Dr. Gamora. You just hoped that you didn’t look as tired as you felt.
“Barton, Romanoff, Lang, Quill, go on to the clinic,” Gamora ordered. She looked up, catching Clint watch Steve through a window. Steve was putting in eye drops. “Barton, patients are waiting.” Clint scurried off. “You two,” Gamora motioned to you and Val, “come with me. Val, you’re hanging with me today.” Steve walked over. “Good morning, Dr. Rogers.”
“Dr. Gamora,” he replied as you yawned. “Late night, L/N?”
“No,” you responded, “caffeine just hasn’t kicked in yet.”
“If you’re at all religious, you would want to start praying it kicks in soon,” Gamora retorted. “There’s a consult in the pit. Girl with a fever and abdominal pain. After that, Lee in 3311 needs his meds. Mr. Jackson’s IV fell out, and he’s a hard stick. Post-ops in 1337, 3342, 3363, and 2381.”
You had nodded along, trying to get your tired brain to understand what she was saying. “3381, 3342, 3363,” you repeated, “and 23… 81?”
Gamora simply glared at you instead of answering what you needed. “Why are you still standing in front of me?”
You quickly hurried down to the pit, not wanting to get on Gamora’s bad side anymore than you already were. You started your consultation with an eighteen year old girl named Jessie Todd. Her mother and father were both accompanying her. Jessie seemed nervous, biting her nails.
“I think she got some bug on her trip to Mexico with her friends,” Mrs. Todd said. “I told her not to go to a third-world country, but does she ever listen?”
“She’s been weak ever since and she’s lost weight,” Mr. Todd worried.
“Barely,” Jessie mumbled.
“And this morning, she passed out in the shower.”
“When was the trip?” You asked.
“A couple weeks ago,” Jessie answered. “I’m really fine. I just have a fever.”
“Okay, well, will you lie back for an exam for me?”
“No, please, I don’t need an exam. Just give me some antibiotics and send me home.”
“Well, maybe it is just a fever, but they called down for a surgeon, so I have to give the ok to let you go. So just let me do the exam.”
“Do the exam,” Mr. Todd urged.
“No. This is crazy. I’m fine.”
“For God's sake, Jessie, I don't want to spend my entire day here,” Mrs. Todd exclaimed.
“You know, actually, Mrs. Todd, this might be easier if we had some privacy,” you told the parents, sensing that Jessie was worried about their reactions to whatever was going on. “So would you two mind leaving the room?”
“That’s fine,” Mr. Todd said, guiding his wife away.
Jessie lied down and you began to push at her stomach.
“Ow,” Jessie complained. “Don’t push so hard.”
“Can you lift your shirt so I can examine your stomach?” You requested. With a sigh, Jessie slowly lifted her shift, revealing pink scars. “Where did you get these? Jessie… you've had surgery recently. These scars are still pink.”
“Don’t tell my parents.”
“You did this in Mexico so your parents wouldn't know? What did you have done?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Jessie—“
“I can’t!”
With a sigh, you walked away, ordering a CT for Jessie before heading to help the other patients that Gamora had for you.
~~~
You at just finished Gamora’s last job for you when she paged. You were quickly to go find her.
“You paged?” You questioned, finding her near a nurses station.
“Where are we?” She asked.
“I did the consult, did the IV, the meds, the Post-ops, everything.”
“How is your pit patient?”
“She’s febrile and has peritoneal signs.”
Both you and Gamora’s attentions go to Natasha, who is walking by looking ill.
“You alright, Romanoff?” Gamora wondered, not caring all that much.
“Fine,” Natasha responded, waving it off as she kept going. “On my way back to the clinic.”
“Anyway, about the pit patient.”
“I think she had some sort of illegal surgery done in Mexico,” you stated.
“Botched abortion?”
“No. She has four laparoscopic scars on her abdomen and won't say what they're from, the parents are clueless.”
“She’s a minor.”
“Seventeen. Freshman in college.”
“You order up for a CT?”
“Yes,” you nodded.
“So while she's there, the nurses couldn't get a Foley on Mr. Garay. He may need a Coude cath if you can't get a normal one in there. Write up post-op notes on all surgical-floor patients that had surgery within the last 24 hours. Be sure to document their EKG's and x-rays. Hunt them down if you can't find them.”
“Right away.”
~~~
You were exhausted by the time Jessie’s CT scans came back. Gamora was really working you to the bone. Of course, it didn’t help that you had spent most of the night up with Steve, having some of the most enjoyable sex you’ve ever had. But that wasn’t the point. Scans in hand, you found Gamora at the nurses station near the lobby.
“Dr. Gamora?” You walked up to her. “Jessie Todd’s abdominal CTs.” You handed her the scans.
She took them, holding them up to study them. “Is this girl fat?”
“Not at all,” you shook your head. “She’s a normal college kid.”
“So,” she handed the scans back to you, “what do you see?”
You took them back and studied them yourself. “Her stomach’s stapled. She’s had a gastric bypass.”
“And a bad one at, at that.”
Jessie Todd was moved into a patient room. So you and Gamora requested to speak to her parents outside of the hallway. You were tasked to explain to them what at happened.
“Gastric bypass is a procedure normally done on obese patients to help them lose weight,” you stated, after telling them what their daughter had done.
“Jessie?” Mr. Todd questioned. “She doesn’t need to lose weight.”
“Are you kidding?” Mrs. Todd responded. “This means the world to her. But it is so typical of this girl to take the easy way out. She's done it with everything since she was a little kid.”
“Mrs, Todd, nothing about this is gonna be easy,” Gamora said. “She's gonna face a lifelong struggle with malnutrition unless she has surgery to reverse the procedure.”
“Do the surgery,” Mrs. Todd ordered before turning to her husband. “I told her to watch the freshman 15. Don't eat junk, exercise. But when she came home Christmas, who had to take her out and buy her a brand new pair of size 6 jeans because she couldn't get in the ones I got her last summer?”
“Chrissy, you know, she tries so hard,” Mr. Todd retorted. “She does. She gets good grades. She gets A’s.”
“She had illegal surgery in Mexico.”
“Unfortunately, there were complications with the bypass,” Gamora stated.
“What do you mean?” Mr. Todd asked.
“She has what looks like an abscess under her diaphragm, and edema, which is a swelling of the bowel wall. I can't say for certain she'll recover completely.”
“Just do whatever you have to do to make her well, ok?”
“Of course, sir.”
Gamora walked away, and you stayed to check up on Jessie. It was then that Mrs. Todd entered Jessie’s room, angrily.
“Before you guys start,” Jessie quickly said, “I know you’re mad.”
“Disbelief, Jessie,” Mrs. Todd exclaimed. “Just disbelief.”
“I’m just concerned,” Mr. Todd added, much more calmly than his wife. “Where did you get the idea to do this?”
“The internet,” Jessie answered quietly.
“But, honey, there is a healthy way to lose weight,” Mrs. Todd said.
“Yeah, I tried that, but...it doesn't work for me like it does for you.”
“Hey,” Mr. Todd said, putting a hand on his daughter’s leg, “you don’t need to lose weight.”
“What are you eating?” Mrs. Todd quickly wondered. “And how much have you been working out? I mean, you know, most of the time, when people hit their target weight, they have to work to stay there.”
“Everyone gains weight in college, Mom,” Jessie responded. “It’s—it’s stressful. There’s... there's not enough time for exercise. I just thought if I wasn't worried about my diet, then… I could focus more on my studies.”
“So you took yet another shortcut? Life doesn’t work that way, Jessie.”
“Chrissy!” Mr. Todd exclaimed.
“What? You want to argue this?”
Huffing at his wife, Mr. Todd turned to you. “She has so much potential, if she would just apply herself—”
“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, having heard enough. “I think we should focus on taking care of your daughter. And, Jessie, your parents agree, the best thing to do is to reverse the bypass.”
“No!” Jessie shouted. “No, it's my body. I do not want surgery again. Please?”
“There were serious complications. And this is about your health.”
“But I’d rather be thin.”
“Well, I’m afraid the choice isn’t up to you,” Mrs. Todd responded.
~~~
With a sigh, you found yourself pushed up against the wall in the stairwell. You were tired and so over Mrs. Todd.
“Long day?” Tony’s voice came closer.
You opened your eyes to see him walking up the stairs. “You could say that,” you responded. “How’s trying to get a date with Dr. Potts going?”
“Not so well,” he sighed, coming to leaning against the wall beside you. “I’ve been bringing her coffee or tea every morning though. I’m trying.”
“You really screwed up,” you giggled.
“You’re telling me. How are you and Steve?”
“We’re… fine.”
“He told me you were up all last night.”
“What?!”
“Okay, he didn’t tell me. But I can see how tired both of you are. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”
“It’s that obvious? Tony, are you serious? This could totally ruin—“
“Woah, woah, woah. Calm down there, Y/N. I’m just playing with you. Gosh, you need to take a chill pill or something.”
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just… I know we shouldn’t be doing what we are doing.”
“But you enjoy it too much to stop. I get it… I just wish I was getting some too.”
~~~
Natasha was standing in the hall looking nauseous.
“Romanoff!” Clint called, excitedly hurrying up to her. “I’m scrubbing in on a hemispherectomy with Rogers.”
“Get out!” She responded. “I would kill for that.”
“We're gonna cut out half a girl's brain and it's going to work. It's outrageous. Almost makes it hard to hate him.”
“Why do you hate him?”
“Oh, no reason.”
“You know about him and Y/N, don’t you?”
“You know?”
“When are you gonna figure out that I know everything?”
Noticing Val walking up from behind, Clint pointed at Natasha. “She knows.”
“What?” Val questioned. “About Y/N and the Captain?”
“It’s been going on for, like ever,” Natasha commented.
“Seriously?”
“And you didn’t tell us?” Clint wondered.
“Ooh, you’re a gossip, huh?” Natasha responded.
“I am not!”
“I am,” Val said.
“He’s about to go into major brain surgery on no sleep? Not very responsible.”
“Jealous much?” Natasha chuckled. “Sex all night isn't about being responsible.”
“No,” Val agreed, “it’s about sex all night. I can't believe you're not more pissed off about this, you of all people.”
“Well, Y/N works hard all day. She’s good at her job. Why should you care how she unwinds? I mean, you like to bake all night. Some people like to drink. Others like an occasional screaming orgasm.”
~~~
Gamora and you were carefully operating on Jessie in the OR. Gamora was letting you help with more than you thought she would.
“Handle with care,” Gamora advised as she handed you Jessie’s bowel. “This things—“
“Full of gunk,” you responded. “I know.”
“We need to free the bowel from the adhesions caused from the abscess. This poor girl. What was she thinking?”
“She wants her mother's approval. She wanted to please her.”
“And this damage is the result? Here, resect that.”
“Needle-tip Bovie, please,” you requested, handing the bowel back to Gamora.
“When you’re done here, you have post-ops waiting.”
“I know, Dr. Gamora.”
“Natasha also has the flu. So, you need to pick up the slack in the clinic as well.”
“Look, I’ll mop the floors, okay?” That earned you a glare from Gamora. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”
“It's not the only thing that's inappropriate. While we're on the subject, you care to tell me what you think you're doing?”
“Look, I'll jump through hoops if you want me to. But what I do what I leave this hospital is my business.”
“Half this hospital knows your business. Flu isn't the only virus spreading around here.”
“I made a choice, and I know you don't respect me for that choice. But I'll live with the consequences.”
“Then I'll have lots of hoops for you to jump through.”
“I've done everything you've asked me to do. I may not do it your way but it gets done. So whatever else you got, bring it on.”
Suddenly, Jessie’s bowel burst. Spraying you with toxic waste. You could hear the people watching in the gallery go, ‘ew’.
“Okay, Dr. L/N, now that you’ve drained the organ, we can attempt to repair it,” Gamora said.
“Now my day is perfect,” you muttered.
The nurses tried to clean you up the best they could as you operated. Though they seemed to only make it worse. After the surgery, you and Gamora headed out into the hallway together.
“I need a shower,” you commented.
“No, I need a shower,” Gamora retorted. “You need to go tell that girl's parents what kind of kid they're getting back.”
“You're not gonna let me shower first?”
“That would be a hoop, would it not?”
“It would qualify.”
“Shower first, then.”
You rushed to the locker room. Val and Natasha were already there.
“Ew, what smells?” Val asked as you passed her.
“That would be me,” you answered, "or more specifically, my patient's insides all over me.”
“That makes me strangely happy.”
“Oh, Y/N,” Natasha grimaced, “you smell like—“
“Karma.”
“What?” You asked Val.
“Nothing.”
“Something vile is stuck in your hair,” Natasha told you, pointing to your hairline. “You know, just go stand over there, please.” She shooed you to the other side of the aisle.
“Ugh, how much do I love being a surgeon right now?” You mumbled.
“Karma,” Val laughed.
“What does karma have to do with anything?”
“I'm just saying, you've been given all the best surgeries. And now you smell like putrid goo. And you're giving off a stench. Karma's a bitch.”
Gamora walked into the locker room. “Dr. Rogers needs an intern in surgery,” she stated. “Which one of you is clear?”
“I’m good!” Natasha raised her hand. She was still looking pale. “Where do you want me?”
“You need to lie down somewhere.”
“I’m fine, I’m completely healthy.”
“L/N?”
“Of course,” Val grumbled.
“What is your problem?” You asked Val, annoyed.
“Um, you! Cause apparently you can help Captain McDreamy in ways the rest of us can’t.”
“You did not just say th—“
“Yes, I did!”
“Hey!” Gamora called out. “Natasha, hemispherectomy in OR 1 with Dr. Shepherd. Go.”
Natasha nodded and hurried away. Val marched off as well.
“Apparently, I’m not the only one with hoops,” Gamora smirked.
~~~
After showering, you found Mrs. and Mr. Todd in the lobby. As you walked, you explained to them what had gone on in surgery.
“We were able to reverse the gastric bypass, but we did lose a significant portion of her bowel,” you told them. “And because of the short gut syndrome, Jessie will never eat normally again.”
“Ok, wait, do…” Mr. Todd tried to put his thoughts together. “How do we help her here?”
“Well, getting proper nutrition will be a lifelong problem for Jessie.”
“Great,” Mrs. Todd murmured, annoyed, “as if we already don't have our hands full with her.”
“She gets good grades. She stays out of trouble. She's smart. I just think she feels like nothing she does is good enough for you.”
“If you somehow think that I'm responsible for this…”
“I think Jessie is killing herself to please you.”
“Oh, please. You have no idea what's going on in that girl's mind.”
“You're her mother. She worships the ground you walk on. She didn't do this for herself.”
“I think that this situation is completely—“
“Chrissy, shut up,” Mr. Todd interrupted.
Both you and Mrs. Todd looked shocked as Mr. Todd walked faster to Jessie’s room.
~~~
Clint had had an interesting day, to say the least. He had discovered that the anesthesiologist in Steve’s surgery was drunk. Bringing up to Dr. Rogers, both the anesthesiologist and Dr. Rogers got mad, throwing him out of the surgery. Which is why he needed another intern.
Durning the surgery, Natasha and Dr. Rogers quickly realized that Clint had been right. Allowing Natasha and another doctor to close, Steve requested Clint to met him outside of the OR.
“Let me explain,” Steve began.
“It’s fine,” Clint responded.
“No, there is a code among doctors. We're not supposed to ask each other questions, not within the walls of this hospital.”
“Okay, so, I was out of line.”
“No, you weren't. I was. I was out of line. Somebody should have taken responsibility. It should have been the guy doing the cutting. It should have been me. You didn't deserve what happened to you today. You did the right thing code or no code.” Steve held out his hand for Clint to shake. Hesitantly, Clint shook it. “You saw me leave the house this morning, didn’t you?”
Clint pulled his hand away. “Oh, was that you?”
“Hmm. I’m not using her. And I don’t favor her.”
“She’s pretty great, you know.”
“Mm-hmm. I know.”
~~~
You went to Jessie, getting her into a wheel chair so that you can walk her around while talking to her alone. You had made a phone call, and you needed to tell her about it.
“Did you fix me?” Jessie asked, after the two of you walked in silence for awhile.
“No, not completely,” you responded.
“So, I won’t get fat?”
“No.”
“Oh. That’s awesome.”
“Jessie, I’ve asked social services to contact your parents.”
“What? Why?”
“They can help you.”
“With what?”
“You don't know this yet, but life isn't supposed to be like this. It's not supposed to be this hard. And your mom… she isn’t suppose to treat you this way.”
~~~
You were so extremely grateful when you were finally allowed to go home. It was late, so you were expecting your roommates to be asleep. When you entered the kitchen, you found Val frosting a cake.
“I thought you’d be asleep by now,” you commented, searching for food.
“Yeah, well, I’m not,” Val retorted. “If you wait a few minutes, you can have a piece of cake. Baked it chock-full of love. Actually, chock-full of unrelenting, all consuming rage and hostility, but it's still tasty.”
“So you know?”
“I know.”
“Well, do you want the long, sordid version, or do you want the short version, where I started sleeping with a guy who turned out to be my boss?”
“Neither.”
“Val, cut me some slack here.”
“No. You went to Dartmouth. Your parents— don’t get me started on that. I know you’re trying to hide who your parents are. But I know. You grew up— look at this house! You know, you walk into the OR, and there isn’t anyone who doubts that yo should be there. I… I grew up in a trailer park. I went to state school. I put myself through med school by posing in my underwear. You know, I walk into the OR, and everyone hopes I'm the nurse. Y-you have their respect without even trying, and you're throwing it away for...what? A few good surgeries?”
“No. It's not about the surgeries. It's not about getting ahead.”
“Then what? A little hot sex? You're willing to ruin your credibility over that? I mean, Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” You huffed, shaking your head. “Oh, my… you’re falling for him.”
“I am not.”
“Oh, you so are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You so are. Damn it, you poor girl.”
“You know, it's just that he's just so… And I'm just… I'm having a hard time.”
"Wow, you're all, uh, mushy and… warm and full of secret feelings.” Val handed you a piece of cake.
“I hate you!” You snatched the cake from her. “And your cake.”
“My cake is good. So, um, how hot is the sex?”
“Val.”
“What? Come on, my girlfriend broke up with me, I’m not getting any. Help a girl out with a few details.”
~~~
Steve showed up at your door an hour later, exhausted as well. You two headed up to your bedroom. You were both on either side of the bed, pulling back the covers.
“You know,” Steve slurred, “we could just…”
“Sleep?” You finished.
“We could, yeah, if… if you want to.”
“Yeah?”
You both crawled into bed. You turned off the lamp beside you before cuddling into Steve’s side. He reached over and turned off the lamp at his side.
“I could get used to this,” you whispered, falling asleep.
next chapter >
NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.
If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.
#steve rogers x reader#gamora x reader#peter quill x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#clint barton x reader#scott lang x reader#tony stark x reader#the avengers x reader#avengers x reader#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel imagines#steve rogers imagine#Steve Rogers
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Boy-Magnet - Draco Malfoy x Reader
Prompt: “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”, “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”
Summary: Being the opposite of a chick-magnet, you attracted many single boys who always tried hitting on you or asking you on a date. These boys all had the wrong intentions, especially Cormac McLaggen who had to be the biggest problem of them all. Draco couldn’t stand seeing his friend/secret crush go through this all. Little did you know, he would give his last fend off, showing that he would be there for you at all times now.
Word count: 3.6k
Tagging @the--queen-of-hell
A/N: Ah!! It’s a bit scratchy but this oneshot should do it! Enjoy!
--
“Hey Y/N, you free this weekend?” asked a passerby whose friends started chuckling as they walked past you in the corridors.
“Nope,” you irritatingly answered and rolled your eyes as you were waiting for your friend Daphne to leave the classroom she just had classes in.
You checked the time from your antique chain watch, looking at how classes should have ended five minutes ago for Daphne. But then again, she was having Professor Binns’ History of Magic so he would have gone overtime without knowing.
“Silly old ghost,” you muttered to yourself as you placed the watch back into your sling bag. You were lucky you didn’t have to fill another class like Binn’s into your schedule unlike Daphne who was advised to take History of Magic if she wanted to become a professor.
“I can agree with you,” came the voice who replied to you. Looking up, you saw Cormac McLaggen walking towards you slowly with his hands in his robe pockets, smirking at you. “Too bad I still have him this year,” his hand pressed the wall, making his body closely face yours.
“How unfortunate,” you tried sounding as lively as possible.
The obnoxious boy let out a laugh, thinking you were interested in the conversation he started, pulled up his History of Magic book and waved it in front of you. “I was thinking,” he said looking at the book, “If you could tut-”
Daphne Greengrass was the first one to have forcefully brushed the doors of the classroom you were standing by open, storming out with a sigh of relief as she saw your figure waiting by.
“Merlin’s beard!,” she boomed, “Thank you so much for waiting, Y/N.” She looked tired as if she slept through the whole class time but seeing that she drew on her arms with her quill meant that she was wide awake, bored out of her mind as she did not want to write useful information from the class.
When she looked at the person who was closely in front of you, she knew what she had to do as she pulled you by the arm and said, “We have to go! Uh,” she looked down, left and right, thinking of a quick excuse, “The boys want to meet us!” She looked at Cormac who seemed uncomfortable hearing that there were boys who were more valued than his time. “Beat it, McLaggen.” she said as she dragged you away from the scene, going wherever was the farthest from him.
“The boys, huh? Very specific of you, Daph,” you laughed. Turning left and then turning right, the two of you had entered the Great Hall, the nearest place with the most people to use as a way to hide from ill men like Cormac.
“Right,” she exhaled from running so quickly. “We’re okay here?”
“I suppose,” you shrugged, “I actually would love a snack anyways.”
The two had gone to the ends of the Slytherin table which was the edge facing the professors’ table when they usually had their meals. While you were placing your bag by your side, Daphne had already asked for pumpkin juice and sandwiches from the elves.
When she was finished ordering, she looked at you with concerned eyes as she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Sorry class took long. I bet if Binns was aware of the time, you wouldn’t have encountered that slimy boy.”
“It’s alright, Daphne. I just hate how there are still so many ill-minded boys in this school who think they can just claim me as their own. I wish I wasn’t some magnet to them,” you sighed, laughing.
Daphne nudged your shoulder, shaking her head from left to right. “Don’t ever say that! You’re lucky boys go after a beautiful girl like you, but sadly they go after you in the wrong way. You just need to learn how to defend yourself without anyone helping you.”
“True, but I suppose having a boyfriend would be nice too,” you joked. Daphne rolled her eyes in a joking manner as she drank from her pumpkin juice.
“Sign me up too, Y/N,” she sighed, “Oh Merlin, why can’t you help me out!,” Daphne looked up to the ceiling, pretending to pray for a miracle.
While you were laughing your arse off, footsteps belonging to a group were walking towards your end of the table. You only noticed when a body slid into the table, sitting beside you.
“Gone nuts haven’t we, Greengrass?,” said the voice.
Daphne and you turned to the right, looking at Draco and his gang who had just arrived with a grand meal through the magic of the elves.
Your friend nodded, taking in another sip of her pumpkin juice. “Crazy times we live in, Malfoy.”
Draco gave a small nod in return, then looked at you, giving you a friendly warm smile. As he smiled from his mouth, it was also as if his gray eyes were smiling as well.
“Afternoon, Y/N,” he politely greeted you, “I would have assumed by your childish laugh that you had gone nuts as well, but then again, I can’t picture you going nuts, especially over someone trying to ask Merlin helplessly.”
The whining ‘Hey, I’m right here!’ from Daphne was ignored and spaced out as you were in the zone with Draco’s conversation.
You smiled as a result of hearing the smooth comment the platinum blonde had given you. Stroking a loose hair strand behind your ear, you shyly looked down.
“Well, Draco. I’m full of surprises. I could go nuts any minute by now.,” you replied, looking back up as if your confidence had just brought you back alive.
“Not on my watch, Y/L/N. Besides, what could possibly drive you nuts? You’re one of the most calm people around school. You don’t have annoying people such as saint Potter on your shoulder everyday.”
Scoffing, you shook your head, denying the things he had just said. That was by far the most untrue statement anyone had ever told you. Your whole life constantly revolved around people trying to hook up with you and trying to fend off those same people.
“Have you ever seen the countless mindless boys who try asking me on a date?,” you laughed. “It’s not fun to decline their offers.”
Draco’s face had hardened as he knew what you were talking about. The way he commented how he assumed you didn’t have people on your backs to fend off was all bluffs. He had seen the evil minded boys who had tried to get physically close to you, and he even heard many betting which one would claim you as theirs that he even threatened to hex most of them whenever you weren’t around.
“Why would you decline them? Surely you’d want to go on a date with someone.”
You tilted your head, “Yes, I would but most of these boys don’t have the right intentions. I can somehow feel it.”
Draco nodded, understanding what you meant. He took a lowkey angry bite off his sandwich, visualizing the many boys he would often overhear by the corridors.
“I can assure you that there’s only a few boys with the right mindset,” he stood up, causing his group to stand up as well. He looked at you with careful eyes, “You take care, Y/N. See you back at the common room. Excuse us.”
You waved goodbye, smiling pleasantly at Draco as he turned around, leading his group out of the Great Hall. Daphne could see the way you smiled at Draco, treating him differently from the rest of the other boys in school. She nudged you in the shoulder again, making you finally turn back to her with a dazed look.
“I know Malfoy’s.. Well Malfoy, but he’s quite nicer than the rest of the boys in school towards you.” she detected.
“He seems like it.” you agreed.
--
Potions class with the Slytherins was a joined class with the Gryffindors. This was one of the many classes that you had with other houses and one of the few that was shared with the Gryffindors. Today was promised by Professor Snape to be an interactive class.
So aside from the usual potion experiments, Snape informed everyone that today’s experiments would be done in the way wherein he would pick pre-made pairs from his list to do the experiment together.
While you were hoping to be paired with Daphne or anyone that was willing to let aside the ill-minded questions on their minds to focus on the experiment with you, Draco was hoping to be paired with you.
Being a table behind you, he didn’t have to look back at you and pray that he was going to be paired with you. He had the chance to look in front of him and watch your reaction when you finally get picked to be with him.
To kill the suspension throughout the whole classroom, Snape grabbed the list on his desk and stood in front of the class.
“Greengrass and Zabini.”
Draco watched as Daphne, your seatmate, pouted and waved goodbye as she moved out of her seat to be with Blaise. He felt like Merlin was in his side as the chances of being paired with you only grew higher.
“Potter and Granger.”
Draco rolled his eyes and wanted to throw his head back. ‘Nobody gives a damn!’ he impatiently said to himself.
“Y/L/N and McLaggen.”
Draco’s heart felt like stopping as he heard a name that was not his be paired with you. He looked at McLaggen who smirked to himself as he started moving his way to your table.
“Malfoy and Weasley.”
“Oh, come on!” Ron complained, only for Snape to smack him in the head with his list. Draco was too discontented to see Cormac take the spot he was yearning for that he didn’t even have the emotion to bark at Ron for being his partner.
Throughout the entire experiment, Draco’s eyes were on the table in front of him. As every second passed, he kept praying that Cormac would somehow get poisoned from inhaling whatever ingredients he could have misplaced, making him run to the Hospital Wing so he could stop looking at you with such puppy eyes.
Despite being the best potion student of the class, Draco was really off his game. He couldn’t stop paying attention to you that he would single-handedly make little mistakes throughout the whole experiment that Ron started getting annoyed by. Even if Ron wasn’t one of the best potions students, he had to fix the mistakes Draco kept filling in with.
“Bloody hell, Malfoy. I thought you were the top of our class!” Ron complained as he picked up the ingredients Draco had dropped, assuming that he placed it in the pot. “Why are you so lousy all of a sudden?”
Draco definitely did not hear a single word Ron had said as his eyes and ears were on you and McLaggen. He was listening to how you were trying your best to be patient with Cormac. He was a mess just like Draco, only to find out that he was always a mess in potions. He wasn’t as keen and smart as Draco in this class - he was far from that. He couldn’t tell which ingredient was which, which made you wonder how he’s been getting by with potions class.
“Why don’t I do the experiment for us?” you irritatingly suggested. “You can still experience the experiment by observing.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Y/N,” Cormac playfully pouted, “I’m such a mess when it comes to these things.”
Draco rolled his eyes, muttering to himself that Cormac was indeed a terrible mess in general. He then watched Cormac rest his head on the palms of his hand as he watched you continue with the experiment like a hopelessly in-love puppy. Draco wanted to smack the head of Cormac for being such an annoying person, not doing his job, and looking at you in the way he wanted to look at you.
“You know, Y/N,” Cormac said, “You’re really good at potions. I bet you do all sorts of talents with your hands.”
Draco narrowed his eyes in anger, holding the table with such grip as he was trying to compose himself from breaking out and hexing the life out of Cormac. How dare him have the audacity to say such a thing to you! Where were his manners? This was an outrage! Draco couldn’t take it anymore. He looked at you, heavily focused on the experiment that you did not hear the last thing Cormac said.
“Uh-huh.” was all you said.
“Do you think you could perhaps tutor me in potions?” Cormac asked, “I know a secluded spot for the two of us in the library.” He wriggled his eyes, expecting that you were going to turn to him and accept the offer gladly.
“No thanks, McLaggen.” you nonchalantly declined the offer as you were still focused on brewing the experiment. “Pass me the whisk, will you?”
As Cormac passed the whisk, there was a lingering touch from his hand as he tried feeling the smoothness of your hand for a little longer. You turned to look at a grinning McLaggen as you aggressively took the whisk away from him, removing his touch from you with a disgusted look.
“You’re welcome.” Cormac sounded as if he depended on the thanks he was waiting for. You just gave him a scoff as you didn’t even bother looking back at him.
Draco was furious from the inside. He asked himself, ‘How could Merlin bring such a badly behaved and disgusting person like Cormac McLaggen into this world?’ As he angrily chopped more ingredients, he couldn’t stand witnessing monstrosities like this. Then again, there were many boys that probably tried courting you without him there, so the unknown number of attempts that he wasn’t there to fend off made him grow more furious than he already was.
--
After class, you made your way to the one place where you could easily gather your thoughts.
The Black Lake.
If Draco Malfoy claimed the Astronomy Tower as ‘his place’, then the Black Lake was yours. You didn’t have to travel a flight of stairs to gather your thoughts. It only took you a good walk away from the castle to make it to the famous lake.
The Black Lake was the place where you could distress yourself from the immense workload your classes would give you. It was the place where you could talk to yourself, vent and rant to yourself about the things that bother you. It was the place you could be at for hours.
There were barely people who normally hung around the lake as they were scared of Merpeople dragging them into the water. It was nonsense. Of course there were merpeople but people had to understand that they lived in the bottom of the lake. Why would they swim to the top-most part of the lake and attempt dragging people down with them?
When you finally arrived at your favorite place, you rested your back on one of the massive rocks by the trees to get a perfect view of the lake. You opened up your Defense Against the Dark Arts book, attempting to learn more things in advance. This class may have not been your strongest class, but it wasn’t the weakest class either. But either way, you wanted to do some advance reading since you did not have anything else to do for the day.
“Now,” you said, turning to the next page, “Which spell should I learn today?” Your eyes were looking through familiar spells that you either have tried out before or did not interest you. You flipped to more pages, searching for more interesting spells but you ran out of luck. The ones you wanted would have caused mass destruction in a place such as the Black Lake. Also, extreme spells were not allowed to be practiced alone.
Feeling defeated, you closed your Defense Against the Dark Arts Book and sighed, placing it back on your bag. “I suppose watching the Lake for awhile would suffice,” you said to yourself as you hugged your knees, watching the body of water that the lake had embodied.
“Perhaps I could be of use for entertainment.” said a voice that had come out of nowhere.
Surprised by the voice, you had looked left and right to see where the voice might have come from. But there was nobody. Suddenly, hands covered your eyes, blocking your sight and turning everything you saw into darkness.
“Guess who.” said the same voice that had now whispered into your ear. The thrills that ran along your spine could only mean one thing. Cormac McLaggen. You furiously grabbed a hold of his hands and shoved it away from your eyes as you stood up, turning around to push the playful Gryffindor.
“What the hell, McLaggen!” you screamed, walking a few steps backwards.
Cormac cheekily smiled, walking a few steps towards you. “Come on, sweetcheeks. I know you’re just trying to play hard to get with silly old me.”
Your eyebrows narrowed in anger as you have heard the most ridiculous thing from his mouth. “You’re out of your mind. I despise boys like you who think they can just come up to me and act all playful with me. Why can’t you bark up another tree for once?!”
Cormac pulled you and forcefully pressed you against the nearest tree. He stroked your cheek with his left hand while his right hand was carefully holding you tightly in your waist. He leaned into your ear, whispering, “Because,” he said, “you are-”
“STUPEFY!” casted a voice.
Cormac’s body had flown off of you and into the ground, ten meters away from you. You exhaled in relief and saw that it was Draco Malfoy who had casted the spell. When he saw that Cormac was unconscious for a second, his eyes went to you. He ran towards you, placing his hands on your shoulder, looking up and down to see if you were hurt. “Are you okay, Y/N? Dammit, if only I had gotten here faster. Merlin’s beard I swear, I already threatened that asshole twice today. If he-”
“MALFOY” Cormac yelled as the Gryffindor tried properly standing on his own.
Draco saw that McLaggen was almost on his feet. To stall things, he had quickly casted a “Glisseo”, resulting in Cormac to slip and fall on his own bottom as the spell caused him to flatten steps into a slide. Once Cormac fell once again, Draco looked at you with concerned eyes, “My dear, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am now that you’re here.” you honestly told him. “He just happened to get in the way, honestly.”
“Right, well, it’s time I show you what I've been trying to do ever since vile gits like him have been trying to get on you.” Draco said, looking now at Cormac. “Oy!”
Cormac stood up, looking at Draco with sore eyes.
“Yeah, you great ugly brute! Come at me, Gryffindork!” Draco confidently opened himself.
McLaggen infuriatingly started dashing towards Draco as if he was a bull that saw Draco holding up a red flag. Before he could jump and tackle Draco onto the ground, Draco did the opposite of lowering his wand and casting, “Wingardium Leviosa!” on Cormac, who began levitating off the ground.
Your mouth opened with excitement as Cormac demanded that he be let down immediately. Draco’s wand then pointed at the Black Lake which dragged Cormac’s body above the cold-icy lake. When Cormac had realized where he was being placed, there was fear in his eyes as he started whimpering, apologizing and crying.
“Shall we drench him?” Draco shouted, pretending he was the ringleader of a carnival.
“No, no, please don’t!” Cormac begged.
“I think we should!” Draco sounded happy. “And into the water you go!” With that, Draco pointed his wand to the water, bringing Cormac in for a sweet drench. Then Draco abruptly brought him back on air, only for him to place him back on the water. The action of bringing Cormac back down and back up was done continuously for a good five minutes as Draco was amused and entertained by what he was seeing.
It was funny at first to watch, but five minutes was enough for you. You started to feel bad for Cormac even if he was an awful person to you.
“Draco?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”
Draco scoffed and laughed. “Don’t you think he deserves extreme consequences?”
“True, but I think that should be enough.”
“In a minute, I’m nearly satisfied with my doings.”
Seeing that Draco was focused on the punishment he was giving Cormac, you thought of one way that could possibly prevent him from continuing his doings. You walked closer to him, slowly enveloping him with a soft hug.
Being unfamiliar with such actions from someone like you, Draco without delay, had lowered his wand, resulting in dropping Cormac into the water, possibly sinking him into the depths of the lake as the water that day was extremely cold.
The platinum blonde had surprisingly hugged you back even softer than expected as he brushed the strokes of your hair. He placed his chin on your head as he closed his eyes, taking in the fact that the two of you were hugging each other.
“Thank you, it means a lot to me.” you said.
“I promise you, Y/N, that I will always be there for you. Whether it be fending off jokes like McLaggen or comforting you in any possible way, I assure you, I will be there for you. I won’t let you off my sight.”
“That’s good,” you smiled, “I’m going to do the same thing for you.”
#Draco Malfoy x Reader#Harry Potter#Harry Potter x Reader#george weasley x reader#fred weasley x reader
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Love and Hate (The Best Boys)
dude come on. you said you’d upload the next chapter on christmas and now it’s been a whole week after and it’s still not out. :(, hi! when are you posting the next chapter of tbb??, tbb????, Are you posting the next chapter of best boys soon? I miss her, when will you be posting the next part of the best boys series??, Ok I’m over TBB I’m just gonna say she ends up with Blah Blah and they live happily ever after, the end. Thank you for the amazing read, it has been fun❤️, TBB is literally the last series I have to finish before I can finally peace out of the shithole that is the OBX fandom for good but like no rush or anything baby❤️,When do you think you’ll be posting the last chapters of TBB?, Hey queen how’s the writing for best boys going,
Series Masterlist
SHES HEREEEE
Yes, im aware this chapter is all over the place. I went through writing four different versions of this chapter and this is the one that I decided to go with. I know that this one is kind of a little ahfioshviowenvionae but it all comes together next chapter (I already started writing the next chapter). Im so sorry that this is so late. I’ve been having issues for a little bit. My grandfather and my dog passed away and I recently had a relapse and I think that’s why it was taking me so long. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3
Warnings:Nothing really, swearing and unedited. Also im sorry if you dont like this chapter but like....yeah.
You were awoken to the sounds of screaming.Topper ended up at the foot of the bed, Kelce still clinging onto you.Rafe was absent from his spot but the mattress was still warm and had a slight dent which let you know that he hadnt been gone long.
You had spent most of the night trying to find the perfect spot on the mattress, one arm thrown over kelce and your heel against the back of Toppers thigh.It seemed like it hadnt been a super long time since the sun had risen which meant that it was probably around seven in the morning by now.
Your heart was thumping in your chest, trying to pay attention to what the voices were shouting.Something about a mess and irresponsibility but you couldnt hear much besides that.Rafe stomped up the stairs, opening his door.He was shirtless, face red from yelling and his eyes slightly watery.You sat up, making Kelce grumble.
Rafe’s jaw was slightly dropped, his nose beginning to run and his body trembling.“Hey, what happened?”You asked, gaining Kelce’s attention.Topper’s eyes opened slightly, looking over at Rafe.The tall boy didnt say anything, he just dragged his feet across the room and sat back on the bed, mumbling.You were hesitant to grip his hand, squeezing lightly.
He just stared at a wrinkle in the blanket but the sound of something breaking downstairs told you that it had been more than just bickering.Kelce was worried, knowing that his parents had gotten home late last night and would see the mess he had created. “He doesnt want me living here anymore.”Rafe spoke up, a few tears rolling down his cheeks.
You pulled him closer to you, arms around his shoulders as he sobbed, your fingers rubbing against the back of his neck.He squeezed you tightly when he head footsteps coming up the stairs, silently praying to any god that would listen that it wouldnt be Ward.Kelce’s phone kept buzzing but he ignored it, knowing exactly what it was.
He knew that it was coming and he would be lying if he said that he didnt expect it, nervous the whole night as he waited for his phone to blow up.“What are you gonna do?”Topper asked.As much as you wanted to scold him for asking that when Rafe clearly didnt want to talk about it it was still something that you had also been wondering.
Rafe didnt answer, taking in a deep, shaky breath that hurt his ribs before picking up his head and looking over to his friend. “I dont know.”He admitted.His voice hurt your heart, the realisation kicking in that there wasnt really many places that he could go.
Kelce’s phone buzzed again, all of your eyes falling on him.He sighed, glancing at his screen.He had missed calls from his parents, dozens of text in all caps telling him to come home immediately. “They found the door.”He replied, keeping his voice calm.A new wave of silence washed over the room, not knowing what to say to that.
Your eyes watered as you remembered how simple life was a few weeks ago, all of you eating breakfast, watching criminal minds and laughing as Topper recorded it all on his snapchat.Now everything was completely falling apart.You didnt say anything, trying to think of a solution.Rafe couldnt go to Kelce’s house or Topper’s house since Topper’s mother had one of those security cameras outside of her home and she’d recognize him immediately.
She was still pissy about Topper’s accident, she’d explode if he let friends over. “SO what happens now?”Topper asked.You were all out of ideas.A simple drive or icecream or a movie couldnt solve any of this. “I mean...think about it.We’re adults, right?Child protective services cant stop us if we leave.”Kelce muttered.Rafe nodded, snapping his fingers.
“Yeah, yeah!You’re right.”He agreed, causing your eyes to widen.They were acting insane. They couldnt be serious about just getting up and leaving forever, right? “No, no hes not.We cant just-we cant just leave!”You exclaimed.They were actually going crazy.How could they even think like that? “Why?What do you have here, (Y/N)?”He asked.You paused, thinking about it.
You didnt really have anything.You had your house of course but other than that you had nothing but memories and your boys.You didnt want to admit that he was right, letting out a quiet sigh. “But leaving forever isnt the answer.”You muttered.Rafe rubbed your back, shaking his head. “Doesnt have to be forever, baby.”He answered.
“But- but just cause we arent kids doesnt mean we cant be registered as missing people.They’ll come after us.”You told them.You knew that nobody outside of this room actually cared about you enough to report you as missing but you were scrambling through your thoughts, desperately hunting for a reason to stay on the shitty island that you had learned to love so much.Topper shrugged, not really caring.
“Guys, guys. Okay, look. You’re all fucked, ill admit it. But thats fine! Are you guys forgetting that I still have a house- you guys can just stay there until this whole thing blows over just like you always have!”You reminded them, hoping they’d agree. “This isnt gonna blow over, (Y/N). I cant come back here.”Rafe told you, becoming aggravated.
“THEN MOVE IN! All of you guys, you can just move in, okay? You dont have to leave- I still have my moms money! We’ll figure it out as we go and…. And it’ll be fine.”You insisted. “Move in with you?”Rafe asked. You nodded, wiping your nose. “You practically live with me already, it wont be that different.”You told him, gripping his hand.
It was a messy blur as Rafe packed his things, grabbing anything that he thought could be important. A photo of his mother, his birth certificate and diploma, laptop and ipad, the Frozen ll record. Kelce and Topper just watched, neither of them ready for anything like this so early in the morning.
Maybe if you werent so tired and upset you wouldnt have said it, but here you were in Rafe’s truck, a dufflebag full of his things at your feet with the boys in the backseat as he drove to your house, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as the thoughts finally took over his brain. Kelce had got aggravated and shut down his phone entirely, staring out the window.
The last thing you were expecting was to come down your road only to see a car that was practically falling apart already in your driveway, a tall man with his hands over his forehead as he tried to look in your windows. “What the fuck….”Rafe muttered, reaching for the door handle when you gripped his hand. “Dont, we dont know what he’s doing.”You told him, hoping he’d listen.
Turns out he wasnt the one you had to worry about, Kelce swinging his door open and sprinting up your driveway before anyone could even stop him. Wherever Kelce went Topper went, the boy struggling to get the seatbelt over his cast before jumping out of the truck and nearly falling into a puddle. “ESCUSE ME! MR SIR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING LOOKING IN MY HOUSE?”Kelce shouted, purposely making his voice deeper.
The man turned, confused as to why two half asleep teenage boys were walking towards him. “Your house?”The man asked. “Yes, sir. You ever heard of a gay couple before?”Topper asked, making Kelce break character for a moment.
“Well, no, its not that. Its just that I thought this was someone elses house.”The man muttered, confused. You had slid down your seat, hoping that the man wouldnt see you. “He’s about to leave.”Rafe whispered.
“Who’s the other guy in the car?”The man asked, pointing to Rafe’s figure. Kelce glanced over at Topper with wide eyes, trying to think. “Our son.”Kelce replied, cringing the moment he said it. The man only looked more confused, looking between the two boys. “How old are you guys?”The man asked, clearly not buying their story.
“Excuse me? Are you saying that we’re too old to have a son? I did not spend years training for a medical degreee to have some random old man come and tell us how old our son can be!”Topper exclaimed. “I didnt spend years trying to find a surrogate and figuring out a way to make a robot nanny for this!”He sighed, trying his best not to smile.
“Could you please leave the property before we call the police?”Kelce asked. The man was beyond confused at this point, quickly making his way to his shitty car before slowly backing out of the driveway, eyes still scanning the area before he gave up and went down the street.
You let out a sigh of relief, moving to get up when Rafe placed his hand on top of your head to keep you down. “Hes coming around again.”He whispered to you, taking in a shaky breath and holding it in his lungs as the car passed a second time. Topper and Kelce were standing by the door, staring at Rafe almost as telling him to get out and make a run for it.
“Open the door in 3...2…”You didnt wait, jumping out and running towards the house, typing in the key pad as quick as you could, Topper’s hand pushing you inside. “Here he comes again!”He exclaimed, coming in right behind you along with the others before Rafe slammed the door shut and locked it, letting out a laugh.
“Oh god, that was scary.”He chuckled. Kelce and Topper nodded as well, eventually laughing. “Was that my dad?”You asked. “Maybe.”Topper answered. Now that you thought about it, your dad didnt same important. Nothing did. You lived on a huge rock that’s floating around space and you’re concerned about your dad when your boyfriends best friends are moving in.
“What’d you tell him?”You asked. “We told him that we’re a gay couple, Topper’s a doctor and Rafe is our child.”Kelce replied. You giggled, snorting. “I mean, as you should.”You replied. “Hell yeah.”Kelce grinned. Topper tapped at his arm. “Bro, you wanna get married?”Topper asked. Kelce laughed again, nodding.
“I’ll get baptised and get you guys married!”Rafe volunteered, all of you turning to look at him. “Did you just say baptised?”Kelce asked. Rafe nodded, eyebrows furrowing. “Is that not the right word?”He asked. Topper shook his head. “The word is ordained.”He informed the tall boy. “He’s trying his best.”You replied, sitting down on the chair that you werent used to sitting in.
“You think he’s gonna come back?”You asked. Topper groaned, sitting down. “Well, I hope not. I dont want my husband and I to have to fight him.”He grinned. You rolled your eyes, changing positions in the chair. “Did he look like me?”You asked, leaning your head against the arm rest, groaning when Rafe pushed your legs aside and sat down with you.
“Not really… he had rat tails for eyebrows.”Kelce replied, putting his fingers over his eyebrows. “Do I have rat tail eyebrows?”You asked, grinning when Rafe reached forward and poked your eyebrow, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “You wish.”He replied. “Fuck off.”You answered. “Dont be fucking rude.”He grinned, kissing you quickly before pulling away with a small smile.
You were shocked, trying to hide your surprise. It wasnt like you werent used to kissing Rafe by now, it was just that he had never done it in front of the boys before. They looked nearly as confused as you, the thought of Rafe kissing you in front of them never even being a concern until now. They were used to him getting most of your love and attention but that had just stirred something within them.
“So how are we gonna do this? I dont know about you guys but im not going back to my house anytime soon.”Kelce announced. Rafe lifted his head, looking over to the boy. “You could always sneak in your own window to grab your things...maybe wait until theyre at work. What about you, Top?”Rafe asked, turning his attention to the blonde boy.
“What do I have at my house that I need? Like, really need.”He asked, grinning when none of you could answer. “Problem solved.”He replied. “What time is it?”Rafe asked, breaking the silence. “Ten.”Kelce replied, closing his eyes as he leaned against the couch. “Im going upstairs to take a nap then.”Topper yawned, slowly making his way down the hall into the first floor guest room.
It was arguably the worst since it also worked as your moms office, a queen bed pushed into the corner. You wiggled out of Rafe’s grip, smiling when he whined. You went into the kitchen, grabbing a poptart. For the situation you felt rather calm, opening the silver package and taking a bite of one of the sweet pastries.
The energy in the house felt different than it had yesterday. You werent sure why, maybe it was just the comfort of knowing that the boys were going to be living with you now and you wouldnt have to worry as much about Rafe or Topper’s relationship with his mom.
“So how are we gonna handle this?”Kelce asked, confusing you. “The house, I mean. You have this whole house and like...30 million dollars. We can literally redecorate however we want, maybe even clean out your moms office if youre okay with it.”He suggested.
You nodded, the idea of getting the memory of your mother cleansed from your life sounded appealing. His excitement took over as he opened his amazon prime app, looking for new decor. “How do you feel about your moms room?”He asked, not wanting to push your limits. You shrugged, swallowing part of the pastry. “Shes not using it.”You replied, surprised by how morbid you sounded.
He simply nodded, shifting in his seat as he added things to his cart. “Can we redo your room? It’s been the same color since we were fourteen.”Rafe suggested. You shrugged, not really caring. You didnt spend a large amount of time in your bedroom anyways. You scrolled through your phone for a few minutes, seeing a little red bubble next to your messaging app that let you know that you had gotten a text. Curious, you opened it.
As soon as you saw who it was a pit grew in your stomach, eyes widening. It was her. “Sweet words, (Y/N).”The text read. You knew that it was your uncle just trying to mess with you but it still caused your anxiety to skyrocket, deciding to block the number and place your phone between your thighs, taking in a deep breath through your nose.
Topper dragged his feet, coming out of the room with a frown. “That’s the most uncomfortable bed in all of history.”He muttered, sitting down on the couch instead. “You can go upstairs.’You reminded him, feeling your phone buzz against your inner thigh.
He just hummed, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “How long was I in there?”He asked. “Literally not even ten minutes.”Kelce replied, still scrolling. “Did I miss anything?”Topper asked. You didnt reply, breaking off another piece of the poptart. “We’re gonna redecorate the house.”Kelce answered. Topper nodded, lifting his head.
“Does that mean that office too?”Topper asked. You nodded, staring at a spot on your carpet. “Does that mean we get to open the file cabinet in the guest room?”He asked, all of you looking over at him. The thought made you feel nauseous. Even if she wasnt here to yell at you you knew that opening the file cabinet would still scare you anyways.
“If theres a dead body in there I swear to god-”You muttered, earning a chuckle from Rafe. “A body couldnt fit in there.”he replied, making your eyebrows furrow. “How do you know where bodies can fit?”You asked. “No, no. Like, its not….well...maybe a raccoon body.”He admitted. “Rafe!”You exclaimed, smacking his thigh.
He rolled his eyes, pulling you into his lap. “There’s no raccoon body.”He answered. “I think theres a raccoon body.”Kelce replied. “Theres not.”You answered. Topper grinned, skipping into the room and beginning to open the cabinet, the three of you following him. “Okay, who votes raccoon body?”He asked, his hand on the knob.
Kelce raised his hand, grabbing your arm to make you hold your hand up as well. “Ready?”Topper asked before pulling the door open, looking into it. His face fell immediately, not expecting this. “What?”You asked, stepping past Kelce and looking into the cabinet.Guns were being held by small metal pieces, multiple clear bags full of plants and needles on the floor, bullets on sashes hanging with the guns.
The two of you just stared, ignoring Rafe and Kelce until they came up behind you, equally as confused. “What the fuck?”Rafe asked, seeing the bags. Kelce slammed the doors shut, locking it. “We’re not telling anyone about this, right?”He asked, looking at all of you. “What are we gonna do with all that? We cant just keep it here!”Topper argued.
Rafe shrugged, resting his elbow on your shoulder. “We smoke the weed and throw the guns in the river, obviously.”Rafe answered. “We’re not smoking weed, Rafe.”You answered. “Well your mom didnt have a liscense to carry, right?”Kelce asked. You shook your head, figuring it would be hung up somewhere in the house to remind you of the power she had.
“Right, okay. So we cant call the cops and we cant keep it here.”Kelce answered, clicking the lock on the cabinet. “What’d your mom even do for a living?”Topper asked. You frowned, thinking back. You never really knew what your mother did, you just stayed quiet and hoped you wouldnt make her angry. She’d disappear for months, money would appear in your bank account, she’d pay the bills aned thats all you needed to know.
She’d have long phone calls with people in her office, grounding you if you even dared to listen. “I dont know.”You replied, cringing at how stupid you sounded. “She has these cabinets all over the house, doesnt she?”Kelce asked. “The one in her room is actual files.”You told him, hoping that there were no sorts of hidden things in her room.
“Should we go check?” Rafe asked, out of the room with a grin before any of you could even answer. You sighed, slightly annoyed that he was treating this like a scavenger hunt. “Its been here this whole time, im sure nothings gonna happen.”Kelce assured you, patting you on the shoulder before his fingers tickled your arm and wrist, gripping your hand and bringing you upstairs.
“I ordered some tapestries, succulents, fake vines and some new blankets for our new movie room.”He told you, nearly slipping up. “Movie room?”You asked, nearly slipping on the stairs. “Your mom has a big tv, I figured it could be like a second living room if you’re comfortable with that.”He answered, pausing at the top of the stairs so he could wait for you.
Rafe was in your mother’s room, carefully pulling on the drawers, eventually finding out that the top one was locked. He looked over at you, silently asking if you knew where the key was. You shook your head, letting go of Kelce’s hand and opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.
Your mother kept most of your medical documents and anything like that to herself along with basically everything that proved you existed. Baby photos, ultra sounds, old school tests. “We could just move it into the other guest room.”Rafe muttered, hoping he wasnt making you upset. You ignored him, looking through all the little colored tags, your eyes falling on a silver tag, your eyebrows furrowing. No other ones had that color.
You picked it up, sitting down and reading it over. The words were all bundled together, ink scratches and smudges told you that it wasnt a serious document. The only word you could make out was ‘arsonist’. Nothing else was eligible. “Can we take it right now?”You asked, placing the paper on the floor and closing the drawer. Rafe nodded, Kelce grabbing one side while Rafe grabbed the other. Topper grinned, leaning against your mothers unused desk.
“I would help but my arms broken.”he laughed, watching as Kelce struggled, walking backwards. “Some moral support would be great.”Kelce rolled his eyes. You grinned, slowly clapping. “Great job, guys. You’re doing great moving that illegal file cabinet.”You held back a laugh. They turned carefully, shuffling as they eventually got to the guest bedroom.
“How do you feel about this?”Topper asked, sitting down on the chair. You sighed, shrugging. “I mean, you know. Its not that I dont love the idea of you guys being here but like… its the circumstances.”You answered, sighing when he pulled you closer with his good arm, rubbing your back. “Thanks a lot for this, though. Like in all seriousness im really grateful that you’re in my life.”He blushed, looking up at you. You smiled, kissing his nose lightly.
“I mean, I do provide you with half of the drama in your life.”You giggled, kissing him gently. “Where does the other half come from?”He asked. You shrugged, sighing. “Probably you.”You answered. “I cant believe you’d say that to me! You know im at a bad place in life and you put me in this terrible situation when you know that!”He fake cried, bursting into laughter.
“Kourtney dont laugh at me!”You exclaimed. You felt a vibration under your feet, hearing a loud, dramatic sigh and the sound of skin colliding. They had successfully moved the file cabinet, the door closing as their loud footsteps hit the floor as they entered your mother’s room again. Rafe took a moment to look around, sometimes forgetting that the room even existed.
It was the biggest room in the house, the ceiling going up at least twenty feet with only glass separating the room from the outside world. His mind wandered, thinking of all the fun nights the two of you could have in here watching the stars or listening to the rain.
The bed was large and still, the blankets and sheets unwrinkled and untouched. He understood why you were creeped out by the house now, feeling like he didnt belong in the room. You all took turns trying to figure out what the writing said, eventually deciding that it probably wasnt even in english. “Should we put it through google translate?”Rafe asked, staring at the paper.
Kelce shook his head. “Nah, its not reliable. I tried using it for spanish class in freshman year and I got detention.”He replied. “Well thats definitely not spanish. Maybe its like…. Ancient text.”Topper suggested, causing you to frown. “I highly doubt that my mother would know an ancient text.
Maybe we should just leave it.”You answered. Although you werent exactly satisfied with it you just didnt feel like spending your time trying to decode a random paper. They didnt seem satisfied either but didnt want to push you, putting the paper down on the desk where it would be safe from your footsteps.
Of course the boys just couldnt stay at the same place for long periods of time, deciding to suggest that you guys go out to a store to get some paint for the boring walls. You agreed, the four of you getting into your car instead of Rafe’s truck, locking all the doors and windows before you left.
Kelce didnt suggest a McDonalds run which caused you to frown, knowing that he was probably too stressed to want to eat. You guys went into Walmart with one goal, heading right for the paint section and looking at the wall of colors. “Lets get four colors and kind of just make it up as we go.”Kelce muttered, looking at all the different shades.
“We could all pick one out.”Topper suggested, reaching forward and picking a bright green. You agreed, picking a shade of light purple, watching as Kelce picked the color toffee biscuits and Rafe went for cotton blue. You doubted any of the colors would actually look good together but that wasnt the point of the project.
It was more about making the room look fun rather than nice. Kelce grabbed a few large paint brushes, the four of you leaving before you could get distracted by anything that you didnt need. Topper decided to get right to work, spilling some paint on the floor as he dragged the brush along the wall, creating bright stripes.
“I have an artistic vision! Trust the process!”He exclaimed, feeling your judgemental eyes on him. You didnt say anything, watching Kelce struggle to connect his phone to your speaker, playing the first song on his playlist.
Line without a hook. Topper looked over at you, almost like he was silently asking you if you had told the boys about his top secret playlist. You shrugged, not wanting to give anything away to the others.
“Oh my god, I love this song.”Rafe dunked his brush in the light blue, making a smiley face on the wall. “Can I paint an onion?”He asked. You raised your eyebrows, not understanding why he wanted to put an onion on the wall.
“Ogres are like onions! We have layers!”Kelce laughed. “Who is we? Are you an ogre, Kelce?”Topper asked, not taking his eyes off of the bright stripes, painting a circle on the top. “Topper Harry Katherine Thornton, are you painting a penis on my wall?”You asked, connecting the dots.
He grinned, ignoring you. “Of course not.”He replied, painting frantically so that you couldnt stop him, green drops rolling down the wall. You picked up your paint brush, painting two circles quicklly before pushing the brush into the center of each, laughing to yourself.
“Guys, really?”Rafe asked. “Cant we make the wall wholesome?”He asked. You shook your head, a smile on your face. “Says you of all people, Rafe.”You shook your head. “She got you there.”Topper replied, dragging the brush across the painting and blending it out so there was no longer a penis on your wall.
“What are you doing now?”You asked, wanting to one up him. “What are you doing now?” He mocked you. Somehow you ended up splashing Topper with paint and getting tackled into the mattress as he held the paintbrush over you, trying to get the bright green liquid on your face while you held his arm back.
“Im gonna murder you!”You laughed, rolling over under him so your face was against the mattress. “Im gonna paint your hair!”He laughed, holding the brush just above it. “Topper, dont mess with her hair.”Kelce took the brush away.
Topper groaned, falling next to you on the mattress. His eyes were closed, the sun from the window casting a beautiful glow over his face, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, your arm resting on his torso.
It didnt take long for painting to be forgotten, a few cheap bristles sticking to the wall with messes of colorful lines and unfilled shapes. The song changed, followed by a loud gasp from Rafe. “This is my favorite song!”He smiled, hitting his knees with his fists repeatedly.
He didnt know what about it made him so happy, whenever he heard it it reminded him of you guys. “You know what we should do?”Topper asked. “No.”Kelce replied while Rafe rewinded the song to listen to his favorite part again.
“We should make soup. Like, spicy soup with potatoes.”He replied, mouth watering. “We could just order soup.”Kelce replied, not in the mood to go downstairs and hunt for ingredients. “Order soup from where?”Topper asked. Kelce simply shrugged, shifting around and putting his arms under his body.
That had been a week ago. Since then a lot had happened. You guys had developed a system, Kelce could do his laundry on Saturdays, Rafe on Mondays and Topper’s just got mixed in with yours.
It was a love and hate relationship to have them there with you. You didnt regret your decision but sometimes things would get difficult. Grocery shopping was the worst since nobody could decide what they wanted and you had all agreed not to eat out as much.
“We need an actual meal, we cant just eat chips for everything.”Topper would grumble, realising he didnt even really know how to cook. That just lead to late flights of searching for recipes o pinterest and watching Gordon Ramsey tiktoks until they decided to try and make bake and shake chicken. That didnt really work out well, having to open all of your windows and get the smoke out of your house.
Then you guys decided to take a new approach, finding a ton of frozen pizzas and ingredients for sushi. Kelce was the only one who had any idea of what he was doing since he had always been talented in the kitchen, specifically with breakfast. That became more of a safe meal for you guys, making extra food in the morning to eat later for dinner until you got sick of toast, eggs and bacon.
Kelce ended up banishing you all to the pool so that he could decorate properly, vines hanging from the door ways and landscape tapestries hanging in your living room, hallway and your mother’s old bedroom. “How long do you think he’s gonna be?”You asked, floating on your back in the shallow end, letting out a yelp when Topper grabbed you and dragged you to the deep end.
“I dont know, probably like three days.”He replied, finally letting go once you were in the middle of the pool. “We could survive three days in the pool.”You replied, watching Rafe shake his head. “With my allergy to the sun?”He asked, making you turn over, going underwater for a moment. “You dont even sunburn.”You told him, splashing water in his direction before swimming away quickly so that he couldnt get back at you.
Kelce kept getting calls from his parents that were asking him to come home but he never did. They knew where he was, if they wanted him back so badly they’d drive over and take him away. “Guys, i’ve finished my creation.”Kelce announced, coming outside. “So we can come in now?”Topper asked, gripping the ledge of the pool and pulling himself out, falling onto his stomach as he struggled to get up.
“Yes, you can come in now! Hurry!”Kelce yelled excitedly before going back inside, waiting impatiently for you guys to hurry. Rafe helped you out of the pool, tossing you your towel so that you wouldnt trail water through your house. “Guys! Come on!”Kelce shouted again, the three of you walking across the hot pavement quickly.
“I’ll clean up the water after- just come see what I did!”He said again. You rolled your eyes, walking into the house. Goosebumps formed on y0our skin from the cool air, eyes widening as you looked at the kitchen. He had bought a plaid tablecloth for the table, vines hanging from the ceiling and doorways, a tie dye tapestry hanging in your living room. It looked like he had taken the time to wipe down every surface and vacuum any mess of broken spaghetti or eggshells that had been kicked under the fridge.
“Do you like it?”He asked, unable to read your shocked expression. “Kelce, im gonna be honest with you. I feel like im in pixie hollow right now.”You grinned, making him smile. “I think thats a good thing- but upstairs is better!’He exclaimed before making his way up the stairs. He was right.
There were marble heart shaped tiles hanging on the walls of the hall, a sign on the new hangout spot that was made out of drift wood. He opened the door, revealing bean bag chairs on the floor, a new carpet, a light yellow canopy hanging over the bed that had all new sheets and blankets on it as well.
He had even somehow managed to fix the paint on the wall so that there were different colored polka dots all over it. The boys seemed equally impressed, still taking it in. You hugged Kelce, not even caring that you’d get his clothes wet. “So I did good?” He asked, hugging you back. “You always do good.”You replied, feeling him hug you tighter.
“So you’re happy?”He asked, letting out a small sigh when you nodded. “I am happy, Kelce.”you replied, kissing him lightly. He smiled against you, taking in a deep breath. “I found a new recipe for fancy grilled cheese.”He told you, kissing your forehead. This was something that you loved about having them live with you.
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#topper x reader#topper thorton x reader#topper thorton imagine#topper thorton smut#topper thornton fluff#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron headcanon#kelce smith#kelce imagine#kelce x reader#kelce outer banks#the best boys
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Beyond disappointed in Ted Lasso. What were they thinking?!
The writing is a complete betrayal and insult to Rebecca’s character and Hannah’s skills as they’re being seriously underused. It’s also insulting Sam’s character.
Hoping someone pulls Rebecca’s head out of her ass tbh. Sam shouldn’t be getting caught in the crossfire of her looking for romance. I know he showed up at her doorstep but she still should’ve turned him away, and not even messaged him in the first place.
Hey, I'm with you, Anon, though we do seem to be in the minority. Sam is definitely not blameless here, he is also in the wrong. But if one of them is more in the wrong, it is Rebecca. I can't speak to whether her head has left her arse as yet because I have quit watching (at least for now). I hear she called it off with Sam in the most recent ep, though not because of any major crisis of conscience or because anyone in her inner circle expressed any reasonable reservations in response to her bad behaviour. And to be honest, I'm not sure we should need to hope and pray that Rebecca's precocious god-daughter, her slimy ex-husband, or the brutal British press will act as a moral compass on this ill-advised relationship. Both Rupert and the press have been set up to some extent as the villains of the piece. And a 14 year old should never have to school her elders on what is and isn't acceptable. Nora's needs have already been neglected by Rebecca for far too long.
If a moral position is to be taken on this, it needs to be taken by the show (because stance matters) and/or by its characters. But the show has for the most part depicted this relationship as ill-advised but ultimately hot, sweet, funny and romantic. As for the characters themselves, Sam has shown at least once that he has some moral backbone but seems to be adorably clueless when it comes to fucking his boss who keeps trying to set boundaries with him. Meanwhile, Rebecca's whole arc in s1 was about learning not to misuse her power for her own selfish ends. In season one, she misused her power within the club in order to exact revenge. In season 2, we have seen her misuse her sexual power, though I still cannot see to what end. I'm a bit at a loss as to what exactly she gets out of this 'relationship' but then I'm a grown woman so I have absolutely no interest in sleeping with a Harry Potter enthusiast barely out of his teens. I couldn't think of anything less sexy and more ick. I was certainly hoping for better character development for her this season.
As to what the writers were thinking, obviously I was not in the writer's room, but I would guess that they were thinking that any drama is good drama, people are stupid and fan devotion will trump any meaningful critique. In other words, they were thinking exactly how every other television writer thinks, despite the fact that this show posited itself as 'not like other TV shows'. This, to me, is where the blame really lies. Not with the characters or with the actors who are doing their best to sell this ludicrous turn of events. It must be noted, however, that both actors were completely blindsided by this relationship that had supposedly been so cleverly foreshadowed. Newsflash: if the people actually living these stories did not see this coming then you haven't foreshadowed shit. Sure, there were a handful of people that paired Rebecca with Sam but this does not constitute proof either. Fans have free-range to imagine and re-imagine characters. In some cases this may extend to imagining relationships between characters who have barely, if ever, interacted. There may be little to no evidence that these characters have even clocked each other's existence and some fans will still ship it. The existence of a handful of shippers does not legitimise such a problematic and divisive plotline making it onscreen.
But wait!, you might argue, this may not be a case of a popular show seeing just how far they can stretch fan devotion. This may not be a case of fan service to a handful of shippers. After all, the creators mapped out the entire three-season arc of Ted Lasso before they even pitched it to Apple. This was their brilliant plan all along! To which I would say: then maybe they should've rethought their second act based on people's strong reactions to their first. Ted Lasso was touted as the show we all needed in 2020. The writers and creators have all marveled at the chord it struck considering it was conceived prior to the pandemic and all the chaos it wrought. And while there is something to be said for having/sticking to a creative vision, there is also something to be said for being flexible and responsive to your audience and the cultural zeitgeist with which you're engaged. Season 1 of Ted Lasso told its story so gently, without creating distrust, division or unnecessary anxiety. It did not treat its audience like a gaggle of stupid lemmings to be led over a succession of narrative cliffs. THIS is what I mean when I say the show has broken with its brand. And look, this whole dark forest thing would be okay if the narrative arc was as well-crafted as s1. Season 1 gave us meaning, cohesion, comfort, sense in a senseless time. It was an almost perfectly crafted season of television. And I kept the faith for 6 episodes, despite the first half of s2 being pretty damn wobbly. But the follow-up to this stellar debut has been less than extraordinary so yeah, perhaps they should've thought a little harder about what made s1 so special before throwing it all out the window.
But wait!, I hear the faithful say, you don't know how things will pan out yet! Wait until the season is over and everything will make sense! But -- wearily and once again, I say -- we should not need to wait until the end of the season to understand what the hell is happening. By this point (over halfway through the season and show) we should have a v clear idea of the show's themes and the characters' arcs. And tbf, from what I can tell there are some fab things happening in other aspects of the show that I wish I could watch and enjoy. But my biggest fear at this point is that they are going to use Sam to solve Rebecca's childlessness. That, like Rupert (because the parallel cannot be avoided), she will become pregnant with a young fling and the show's attitude to this relationship will ultimately be: oh well, it was a bad idea and didn't work out for them but it was all for the best in the end cos who can be mad about a cute lil baaaayyybbbeeee??!! If they do go down this path then I will definitely be abstaining from the rest of the show. I will simply recall my repeated viewings of s1 with fondness tinged with regret at just how badly they fucked up a good thing.
Ultimately, Anon, I think this may be a case of there simply not being a diverse enough perspective in the writer's room. I am not saying that every single woman or every single person of colour will necessarily object to this relationship. I am simply saying that women and people of colour will be more sensitive to the issues of gender and race that are relevant here but that have not been fully or sensitively acknowledged in the writing of this plotline. Neither am I saying that Rebecca is the first woman to sleep with a man much (much, much, MUCH) younger than herself or indulge in an ill-advised relationship. But the comparison with Rupert both works here and doesn't because Rebecca is not being written like a white woman, she is being written like a white man. Realistically, only a white man can engage in this kind of hugely imbalanced relationship seemingly without any major moral qualms or societal ramifications. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this kind of relationship is reserved for all the Bills and Joes and Brendans and Jasons out there -- not for the Rebeccas and definitely not for the Sams. We are way beyond the point in feminism where we believe that liberation is simply the right for a white woman to behave as badly as a white man. The truth is that whatever wealth, power and privilege Rebecca has, the rules are different for men and women. She will not be treated the same as Rupert if and when this affair is uncovered. She will be treated far more savagely than Rupert ever was and Sam will be treated far more savagely than Bex was. This is not an argument for the equal treatment of these two relationships. It is an argument against how the relationship between Rebecca and Sam has been envisaged, i.e. through the wrong perspective. In writing from a 'neutral' white male pov, the show has invisiblised all the many issues activated by this storyline and revealed a blindspot that was always there.
As much as I loved and still love season 1 of this show, it has definite blindspots when it comes to representations of race and gender. There are at least two moments in s1 that stand out for me as being so obviously written by a man. Not necessarily because of what they do but because of what they don't do: what is missed, absent, unacknowledged. I was willing to overlook such minor failings in a debut season for many reasons. But s2 seems to have exacerbated these minor flaws rather than correcting them. And here I can't help thinking of Tina Fey speaking of the diversification of the writer's room at SNL during her tenure as co-headwriter. This notoriously male-dominated environment only began to shift and produce better work when a greater diversity of minds, voices and persepectives was allowed in the room. In this richer environment, she notes, different jokes played differently. Different sketches made it to air. Different perspectives were represented and different performers were celebrated. I can't help wondering if this plotline would have made it to air if there had been a female writer, a writer of colour or both further up the chain of command to challenge the ideas of the straight white dudes in charge.
One of the reasons I didn't think Ted Lasso was for me was that it centred a straight, white, cis-het, able-bodied man who rose to a position he didn't earn. That is just not a pov I would normally choose for myself, especially now that there is such a rich array of alternative perspectives through which to view the world. But I think the show won a lot of females fans with its first season largely due to its portrayal of Rebecca. She is the first person we meet. She is arguably the protagonist of s1. And while she would have been figured as a villain in previous pieces, the show never took that stance with her (because again, stance matters). Other elements like the depiction of female friendships, all centred around Rebecca, made this show female-friendly viewing. But imo, the major reason this show won over female fans (this one, at least) is because, in this post-MeToo, post-TimesUp era, it stood up and said: domestic violence is not okay, we stand with women and all victims of abuse, we will defend you, we know words can hurt, we know it can happen to anyone, we know all about toxic masculinity, we do not take this lightly and we will support you in your healing. Needless to say, this is how women hope men will act when they speak of their most difficult experiences but it is not how they always do.
The shift away from Rebecca this season has however meant that the white male experience is more centred than it was in s1. Rebecca's journey to recovery, health and happiness has been trivialised and sidelined, reduced to a highly questionable sexcapade. Meanwhile, we get overwrought manpain at every turn. We get Beard wandering around London (no, I haven't seen it and no, I don't need to. We've all been raised on white dudes thinking they're genuises when they have a figurative wank all over our screens). We get NO queer represention at all. And the only other female characters on screen are in care/service roles to men. The father/son, mentoring and toxic masculinity themes are all still there but they're no longer balanced out by ANY other competing perspective. One of the reasons I was okay with Ted failing upwards in s1 was that he used his power and privilege to lift up others. He was the one in service. He used his enormous privilege for good, as anyone with such privilege must. (Admittedly, it could be argued that this is just another version of a white savior narrative).
My point here is that I'm not sure that peeking behind the mask at the sad clown is as revolutionary as some might believe. We love it because it's familiar. But this is a narrative with a long and problematic history. Do I believe in tearing down toxic masculinity in all its forms? You bet. Do I believe that patriarchy traumatises men as well as women and every other minority in existence? I mean...nowhere near as much, but absolutely. Do I believe in men expressing their feelings and going to therapy? Wholeheartedly. But I am also aware that 100 or so years ago, we were in a very similar place with our narratives. Everyone is looking for a recapitulation of modernism and frankly, this might be an indicator of just that. Whenever women and people of colour have demanded rights and recognition, there has always been a resurgence of tales about just how frickin' hard it is to be a white man. Minority genders and non-white people have never in western history been as visible or vocal as they are now. So forgive me (or don't, I don't care) if I critique a show not only for centering fathers, sons, boys and men but for blindly and boldly writing one of its only female characters and one of its only black characters as if their gender and race just do not exist. There are many other power differentials at play in this relationship, including age, experience, wealth and position, but race and gender are the two that patriarchy is most invested in invisiblising. So I don't care how brilliant they think they are, I will not trust the writing of a bunch of white dudes trying to tell me that race and gender are irrelevant.
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hey! it is a rather different request this time. uh. i know you’ve been having some Mental Health Days tm too, so you absolutely do not need to write this if it’s too much or if you don’t want to. so i’ve been having some pretty fucked time lately, and that included me getting weirdly nauseous because my thoughts were too fast? if that makes sense? like. emotional motion sickness? so i was wondering, if any of your ocs suffer from depression or any other mental illness, could you write them getting sick from that w their partner comforting them? (id especially love shayne and charlie, but it’s up to you!)
i know this is a very intense request, so you can very much 100% ignore it/delete it/tell me to stfu/ whatever you need. thank you, i hope we all feel better soon <3🍄
Note: this is not the fluffy fic I was talking about yesterday.
Mild spoiler alert, but I want to give some context. While I was working on this and one other fic, I started thinking about how difficult it can be to believe someone loves you when you’re at a dark point in your mental health, and I want to explore that a bit with both Charlie and Shayne. That’s why Shayne says “Thank you” at the end of this fic; he’s not being an asshole, he’s just taking a moment to recognise and appreciate that Charlie loves him.
CW: anxiety attack, emeto, mild touch aversion and trust issues
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Charlie had been sitting in the single armchair with his laptop all morning, lost in the depths of the Internet. It had started off as a single scouring of his university’s website, which had ended in him lightly stalking the Facebook page for their LGBTQA+ society. From there, he’d ended up finding a Facebook group for incoming students for his course, and gotten added to a private chat with a few of them. One girl had found a copy of the semester’s reading list, and from there, Charlie had gone on a tangent of trying to find cheap copies of the books on various websites. His older brother Jonathan had warned him about how university libraries sometimes only stocked one copy of a book that sixty students would all need on the same day, and Charlie wanted to be prepared.
It wasn’t until someone in the chat said they were leaving to go get lunch that Charlie realised how long it had been since he’d looked up from the screen. He said goodbye to them and closed the lid of his laptop, stretching his arms out over his head. His legs were draped over the arm of the armchair, so he stretched those out too, almost kicking Shayne in the head since he was sitting on the sofa.
“Oh! Sorry,” he giggled, hopping up and placing his laptop on the cushion where he’d been sitting. “I hope you don’t feel like I’ve been ignoring you.”
“Nope.” Shayne had his head propped up on one hand, his eyes slightly glazed over. He sounded like he could have been in a bad mood, but those were sometimes hard to distinguish from normal moods, so Charlie tried not to read into it.
“How are you doing?” Charlie asked, slumping down on the sofa. He reached over and brushed his fingers through Shayne’s hair, his heart sinking when Shayne flinched at the contact. “Something wrong?”
Shayne shrugged, gaze dropping to the floor as he folded his arms across his middle. Charlie immediately began to analyse the situation, his heart thrumming with the frantic worry he always felt when Shayne began to clam up.
“Are you feeling sick?”
Shayne shrugged.
“If you are, I can get you some medicine.”
“No.”
“Okay.” Charlie cleared his throat. “I was thinking of having lunch soon, if you want to join me.”
“No, I don’t –” Shayne leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. “You don’t get to decide what goes in my body, Charlie.”
“Whoa.” Charlie sat forward too, wishing he could get a glimpse at Shayne’s expression. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”
Fists clenched by his sides, Shayne got up from the sofa. “Just leave me the fuck alone, okay?”
“Okay,” Charlie said in a small voice. He wrung his hands in his lap, letting his eyes follow Shayne across the living room.
He paused by the door to the hallway, like he was considering whether or not he actually wanted to storm out. In the end, he turned around again, crossing his arms.
“Shayne?” Charlie eased himself to his feet. He knew sudden movements probably wouldn’t make Shayne any worse, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
“No.” Shayne shook his head and started walking back and forth. His fingers were digging into his upper arms. “No. Don’t. Don’t.”
Charlie felt sick. He couldn’t tell if Shayne was talking to him, or to himself.
As much as it killed him to just stand and watch, he kept himself planted on the spot and let Shayne pace back and forth. It was better for him to use up some of his nervous energy for a few minutes. Charlie knew the last thing he should do was try to control him when his anxiety acted up, since it was usually the feeling of losing control that caused it.
What he wasn’t expecting was for Shayne to suddenly turn and fling himself towards him, head hitting Charlie’s shoulder with force.
He was gasping as he tried to get words out. “I-I can’t – Charlie, everything’s messed up. My stomach, my chest – I can’t fucking breathe–”
“Oh, lovely, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Charlie whispered as calmly as he could.
Shayne exhaled deeply, his body falling still for a moment. It felt like a calm before a storm. Charlie held his breath, not quite sure what kind of storm to expect. He realised he wouldn’t have been shocked if Shayne had turned around again and punched a hole in the wall.
In the end, Shayne just jerked his head back, his eyes watery and unfocused. The tension in the air changed, becoming less intense but a lot more delicate.
“Are you okay?”
Shayne shook his head.
“What’s wr–?” Charlie started to ask, cutting himself off when Shayne abruptly spun on the spot and leaned over, a weak stream of sick pouring from his lips. “Oh.”
“Fuck,” Shayne whimpered, pressing a hand over his mouth. It had landed mostly on the glass coffee table and not on the rug, at least. He gave a muffled “Sorry” from behind his hand before he sank back onto the edge of the sofa.
“Hey, don’t – don’t worry.” Charlie dragged over a metal bin that lived in the corner of the sitting room, mostly for used tissues and snack wrappers to be thrown into. Luckily, it was empty now. He knelt down in front of Shayne, who was still covering his face as he leaned on his knees. “There’s a bin, in case you feel sick again.”
Shayne just shuddered in response.
“Hey,” Charlie sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder. His breath was a serious of ragged gasps again, making his body convulse so badly that Charlie couldn’t tell if he was still retching or not. “Are you okay? What – what happened there?”
“Everything… Everything was too fast, in my head.” Shayne let out a shaky sigh, fingers clinging to his hair now. His eyes were squeezed shut. “Charlie, what the fuck’s wrong with me? What am I going to do?”
“Hey, hey, hey, look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“Look at me.”
“I can’t, Charlie!”
“Shayne, trust me, alright?” Charlie extended both arms, palms facing up. “Squeeze my hands.”
The breath shuddered out of Shayne as he took Charlie’s hands, closing his fingers tightly.
“Alright, now, count backwards from ten with me. Ten –”
“Ten…”
By the time they reached zero, Shayne’s grip on Charlie’s hands had relaxed, and there didn’t seem to be any fresh tears on his face. He was shaking, and his eyes were searching Charlie’s like he was waiting for them to spit out the meaning of life. Charlie had never felt like more of a fraud, a charlatan; he hadn’t even been sure that the counting-backwards-from-ten thing would work, but he was glad that it had.
“Okay? You with me?” Charlie whispered.
Shayne nodded distantly.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah. No.” Shayne’s teeth chattered as he fought to compose himself. “Sorry. Physically, yes, but everything – everything else is just…”
Charlie shook his head, feeling like his heart might break from watching Shayne try and fail to find the right words. “Lovely, it’s okay.”
“Fuck. The coffee table,” Shayne groaned.
“Hey, that’ll be easy to clean up,” Charlie half-laughed. “I’m gonna go do that now, and then I’ll make us some tea, okay? Do you want to lie down while you wait?”
A short nod, a glassy gaze.
“Okay. Maybe don’t lie on your tummy, though,” Charlie said as Shayne began to move, anxious that he would resort to his preferred position for sleeping and relaxing. “It might make you sick again and make it hard to breathe.”
“’Kay,” Shayne murmured, curling up on his side with his knees almost all the way up to his chest.
Charlie stroked his shoulder and prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he’d be able to understand what went on inside his head one day. He had a heavy feeling in his chest as he got up from the floor.
Charlie turned around at the door. He both loved and hated how tiny Shayne looked, curled up on the sofa. He drew a deep breath. “I love you.”
Looking exhausted, and also like he was about to start crying again, Shayne nodded and said something in a very low voice before letting his eyes close. He’d mumbled it – badly, even by his own standards – but Charlie was almost certain that Shayne had said, “Thank you.”
#anxiety#emeto#emeto fic#sickfic#emeto sickfic#StW Shayne#vomit fic#anxiety disorder mention#anxiety mention#fic length#if I didn't say it already#🍄 anon I hope you're doing better 🖤
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Hey! If requests are still open can you write an angsty Bucky fic where he doesn’t like the reader and is always mean to them to the point where reader has a panic attack/cries and Bucky feels terrible? Maybe he admits he likes her? Thank you!
Bucky couldn’t understand the genuine annoyance he felt when you were around. A mention of your name could change his whole mood. Everyone noticed it, you also noticed and avidly avoided him. You didn’t want him to be uncomfortable, you just secluded yourself in your room and trained by yourself or with Wanda whenever she was free.
It began when you left your shoes in the hallway after a long night of partying. Seeing your strappy yellow heels outside his door made his blood boil for some reason. Your room was across the hall so Bucky just took your shoes, pounding loudly on your door, waiting for you to open it.
Were you that dumb to just leave your shit everywhere? Bucky felt himself grow angrier by the minute, just waiting for you to open the door so he could throw these ugly pieces of shits at you.
Only to be greeted with the sight of a shirtless Steve, blushing like a schoolgirl.
Steve quickly took your shoes and closed the door, Bucky was left outside your door shocked. He didn’t know what to say. When did you and Steve even get together and how did that slip past him. Bucky prided himself on being extremely observant.
His best friend, sleeping with you? How could Steve even tolerate you? You were loud, obnoxious, snarky, and rude. You saw yourself as better than everyone, which pissed Bucky the fuck off.
+++
“When the hell did you and Y/n start going out?” Bucky asked Steve as they trained. Bucky couldn’t get it around his head that Steve was able to even speak to you without blushing like a little kid. Steve could barely speak to Natasha properly when she started becoming flirty.
“It’s a casual thing Bucky, we just fuck sometimes, especially when she looks that good in a tight dress,” Steve replied, putting down the 75 lbs warmup weight, getting ready to start benching.
“Yeah, but she’s annoying as fuck, her voice gives me migraines, how does it not bother you?” He asked Steve.
“She isn’t annoying, and her voice sounds great when she’s yelling my name,” Steve smirked at Bucky, you weren’t annoying to Steve, just quiet and funny when you wanted to be.
Bucky was still confused, but he just didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t want Steve to be concerned with that his opinion on you.
+++
It hit Bucky weirdly, you were sobbing in your room, barely breathing, with Steve holding you, running his hands up and down your back. Steve whispering into your hair, trying to convince you what Bucky had said to you wasn’t true.
You and Bucky had to drive down to D.C. for a meeting with a Fury, he wanted to speak to you about a small operation in Chile.
Only 15 minutes left in the drive, Bucky could barely fucking focus with you in the car. You weren’t even doing anything, just playing some game on your phone, but the little sound effects coming from the game were ticking Bucky off.
“Can you turn that shit off for the love of fuck,” Bucky shouted, startling you, making you drop your phone and scramble to turn the noise off.
“Sorry,” You quickly muttered, not wanting to aggravate him anymore. He was an actual assassin, he could kill you and make it seem like you did it.
“You know, you're really fucking annoying, I don’t know how Steve can deal with you, it probably because you’re easy,” Bucky mumbled under his breath, but you heard him.
Your jaw began to wobble, and you looked out the window without saying anything back to him, just praying that the car ride would be over soon. You knew Steve didn’t actually like you and he only wanted to sleep with you, you should have known.
You liked Steve, he made you feel beautiful, but if he was only sleeping with you because he thought you were easy. You couldn’t think of what you would say to Steve.
“No he doesn’t, he likes me, he told me so,” You whisper, if you talked any louder, your voice would crack and so would the dam holding back all the tears.
Bucky laughed out loud, “That's not what he told me, he said you were an easy lay, something to keep his dick wet and warm, he doesn’t care about you, no one in the compound does, your just an annoying bitch, no one wants you here,” He said all this while parking the car in the garage.
You jumped out of the car once he put it in the park, running to your room as fast as possible. You slammed the door closed, and you burst into tears, Steve looked at you like you were crazy, he was waiting for you in your room.
“Baby, what happened?” Steve quickly ran to your side, scooping you up into his arms, you were sobbing, your thoughts going a million miles an hour. Your body was going into sensory overload, your biggest fear was everyone you loved hated you, and Bucky had made that fear come true.
The feeling of Steve’s hands on your body felt so weird, you could feel everything touching you right now, the tag of your shirt, your socks touching the bottom of your feet. It all made you want to throw up.
You pushed Steve off you and started taking off your clothes, you didn’t want anything touching you right now. Your breathing was so fast and your heart was pounding in your chest, it was like you had just run a marathon.
Steve didn’t know what to do, your panic attacks looked different than his panic attacks, his attacks were loud and slow, everything became fuzzy for him and you knew exactly how to get them to stop. Your attacks seemed quiet and frantic, needing everything to stop moving for a second.
“Baby, it's okay, you’re okay, I’m right here, don’t worry, come here my love,” Steve whispered, not wanting to scare you as you slowly stopped taking off your clothes, you were left in your underwear and that's it, basically completely bare.
Steve reached his hand out to you, waiting for you to extend your hand, and you did slowly, taking in the warmth of his hand. It felt nice, his touch didn’t make your sense go wild in a bad way.
Slowly Steve embraced you, whispering loving words to you, asking you what happened, and you told him, everything that Bucky had told you.
Bucky stood in your doorway, holding your black sweater in his hand, feeling awful that he had caused you to go into such a frenzy, he didn’t know you were so sensitive.
Watching Steve comfort you while you were crying angered Bucky to no extent. He didn’t know why he was getting so angry seeing you accepting Steve’s love and comfort. He dropped your sweater and quietly shut the door, walking into his room and laying on his bed.
Steve went into the kitchen to make you some tea, while you slowly put on your pajamas, which consisted of a long black long-sleeved shirt and cotton short shorts. Bucky heard your bedroom door close and he shot up, wanting to see if you were left alone or if you had left your room.
Bucky opened your door slowly, seeing you in your bed, quiet and scared. He felt his old heartbreak, you should never have to feel like this, so broken. He slowly made his way yo your side of the bed. Your hair was slightly in your face, Bucky brushed it away, his cold hand touching your warm, damp face.
You were asleep, but you reached out and held his hand against your face, the coolness felt soothing against your face from all the crying you did.
“I’m sorry, Y/n, I’ll be better, I promise princess,” Bucky whispered, tears swelling in his eyes trying to figure out what the hell he was feeling. He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, leaving you to sleep in your darkroom.
_____
IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE, I REALLY FORGOT ABOUT ALL THE REQUESTS, ILL TRY AND GET TO ALL OF THEM!!!
#Steve Rogers#Steven Rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#Steven Grant Rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers angst#captain america angst#captain america x reader#captain america fanfiction#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x Female Reader#bucky barnes angst#Winter Soldier
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Kurtbastian Week 2020 - “War of the Roses” (Rated M)
Summary: Kurt suspects that his husband may be cheating on him. But instead of taking the mature route of talking with him, he calls up a radio talk show that has a unique way of uncovering the truth. (2236 words)
Notes: Inspired by a talk show I used to listen to by the same name. Written for the @kbweek2020 Day 5 prompt 'angst', but not quite as angsty as you might imagine.
Read on AO3.
“War, War, War, War of the Roses!”
The pre-recorded announcement, surrounded by loud fanfare, blares through Kurt’s phone. He moves it away from his ear before the d.j. follows with: “It’s War of the Roses day on Magic 92.5! Hop on the website, send us a text, or call and leave us a message, and you, too, may be featured on War of the Roses! Today, we have Kurt on the line, ready to share the troubling story of him and his husband Sebastian. Kurt - thank you for joining us.”
“Th-thank you for having me,” Kurt replies, hating the way his voice sounds, the way it rattles around his dry throat. Hating what he’s doing. Hating that he gave the show their real names! What an imbecile he is! People he knows listen to this show! His boss Isabelle listens to this show! She must be listening now because he hears a beep over the line - a sign that another call is trying to wedge its way in. When he doesn’t answer it, it disconnects with a chunky bwap-bwap! A second later, messages start flooding his email, which he left open on the laptop in front of him. And not just from Isabelle. From Rachel, Mercedes, Santana, Brittany, Chase …
Kurt lifts a hand and closes the lid, shutting them out.
Oh boy.
He’s only been on the phone for 30 seconds and he’s already made a mess of things.
“Kurt,” the d.j. says, “why don’t you start by telling us why you contacted us? How can we help you?”
Kurt sighs. I contacted you because I’m stupid, he thinks. And insecure. And, frankly, I should hang up right now and put my phone in the freezer for safekeeping before I do anything else stupid. “I … I think my husband might be cheating on me.”
Canned ooo’ing follows his admission, and if he didn’t regret this decision before, he certainly regrets it now. He can’t stand the idea that they’re using this situation that’s been keeping him up at night as the punchline of a joke. But he can’t blame them. He did this. There are other ways to go about this that he should have considered first. Counseling. Private investigators. Honest and open communication with his spouse. But for some reason, when his husband got up early and left for work without waking Kurt for a goodbye kiss for the eighth day in a row, Kurt broke. If his marriage isn’t working, if they’re headed for Splitsville, Kurt needs to know today.
Now.
Sooner, if possible.
And that’s when he leaped for his cell phone and made this ill-advised call.
Kurt didn’t think there was anything wrong with his marriage. He thought they were happy – blissfully so. But for the past few days, things have gotten odd between them. Strained. And Kurt doesn’t know why. He needs to find out.
Lucky for him (depending on how you look at it), the radio program had a last-minute cancellation. The person who was scheduled to be on this morning decided to take matters into their own hands and run their unfaithful spouse over with a Cadillac.
A Cadillac that wasn’t theirs to begin with.
The station called him practically a second after he got off the phone with their answering machine.
“And why do you think your husband might be cheating on you?” the female co-host asks in a voice sympathetic from years of practice.
“Well … he’s been avoiding me.” Kurt winces at that weak excuse. To be fair, Sebastian’s firm recently landed a huge client - their first of this caliber in years. And since one of his partners is out on maternity leave, the job of wining and dining had fallen on Sebastian’s shoulders - a task he hasn’t performed in close to a decade; one he never liked much, especially after he and Kurt got married since it kept him away from home. “But on top of that,” he says, leaving that pertinent information out, “he’s been talking a lot about some guy named Martin.”
“Really?” the d.j. says, working hard to make this revelation sound like the scandal of the century since Kurt isn’t giving them much to work with. “And what has he been saying about Martin?”
“He’s been very complimentary about the job Martin has been doing down at the office.” Another wince. “A-and my husband isn’t normally the kind to hand out compliments. Plus, they’ve been working a lot of late nights - meetings, overtime, all last minute, that sort of thing.”
“Do you think Martin is doing something other than working that your husband might actually be complimenting him on?”
“Maybe,” Kurt says meekly, his heart going from ache to break. He hadn’t put those thoughts into words before today, hadn’t even texted them to his closest confidants now crowding his inbox. This is the first time he’s getting it off his chest … and he’s doing it to millions of people he doesn’t know.
He can hear Sebastian's voice in his head, laughing and saying, "Smart, Kurt. Very smart."
“Alright! Let’s get Sebastian on the phone and find out what’s going on once and for all!”
“Okay,” Kurt mumbles, covering the fact that the host's apparent enthusiasm to destroy Kurt's life put him on the verge of throwing up.
“What we’re going to do (for those of you who don’t know how this works) is offer Sebastian a dozen romantic roses to send free of charge to the person of his choice," the d.j. explains.
"Let’s hope he says Kurt,” his co-host adds.
“Yes,” Kurt says, and very unlike him, he begins to pray.
He prays Sebastian doesn’t answer the phone.
He prays Sebastian's secretary answers instead and tells them to send the roses to Kurt, Sebastian’s one true love. Kurt would accept that, hearing it second hand. That would be fine. Hearing it from Sebastian's secretary would be almost like hearing it from Sebastian. She’s a trustworthy soul, not inclined to cover for her boss.
He thinks.
Most of all, he prays that no matter who answers, no matter what happens, he’s wrong.
Ring-ring.
Ring-ring.
Ring-ring.
Click.
“Hello?”
Sebastian answers and Kurt’s stomach drops. In the time it takes Sebastian to complete that word, Kurt recalls the way most of these things end. Then his mind, which rarely seems to be on his side lately, conjures up how it might end for them.
This phone call and their entire marriage.
“Let’s get a name for the card, Sebastian. Who would you like us to send those roses to?”
“Let’s send them to Martin,” Kurt imagines his husband saying in a sly, seductive voice without pause.
“Martin? And what message would you like to go with it?”
“Make it out to Captain Flexible. And write ‘last night was incredible. Here’s to many more late nights in the future’.”
That nightmare spell shatters when Kurt hears the d.j. say his husband's name. “Sebastian?”
“Yes?” Sebastian answers, already sounding annoyed. No one who calls Sebastian’s office line ever calls him by his first name except family.
And Kurt.
“Hello! My name is Andrew, and I’ve just opened a new flower shop in Uptown called The Rose Knows.”
“Good for you,” Sebastian says dryly.
“We’re calling businesses in the Midtown area with our first promotion. We’re offering a free dozen romantic roses to send to the person of your choice. And all we ask in return is that you recommend our shop to your family, your friends, your co-workers …”
“You must have the wrong number. I don’t need anything for free. Put an ad in the Pennysaver like everyone else.”
"I'm not sure the Pennysaver's still in business."
"Not my problem."
Kurt bites his lower lip, grinning when he should be in tears, the nervous flip-flopping of his stomach, like pancakes on a griddle, causing his abs to cramp. But that’s his husband. His Sebastian.
So far, so good.
“Come on,” the d.j. presses. “We’re a small business, just starting out. Do a man a favor. Have some community spirit.”
Sebastian sighs like this is so beneath him. He stays quiet, and Kurt knows he’s debating between messing with this guy or hanging up on him. But Sebastian probably figures he’s not going to shake him until he gives in. Besides, Sebastian is nothing if not a networker. A flower shop would be of no use to him, but who knows? “Let’s see. Who in my life deserves free roses? My mom’s birthday is coming up, so maybe I could send them to her. Or my sister. She just had a baby.”
“Oh! Congrats!”
“A-ha,” Sebastian says, the amount of unimpressed in his tone staggering. “There’s Martin Lewis ...”
“Martin?” the d.j. repeats, stressing the name subtly to put emphasis on Kurt’s concerns.
He doesn’t need to. Kurt’s heart has already stopped.
“Yeah," Sebastian says, his voice going softer. "Roses would definitely brighten up his office.”
“And why does Martin deserve roses?”
“Not that it's any of your business, but he’s been busting his ass helping me put together a huge proposal. Plus, his wife's in the hospital. He could bring them over to her."
"O-oh ..." The d.j. slips. That's probably the last thing he expected to hear.
"Or you know what?” Sebastian's voice drops a register, a hint of wickedness lacing between. “I could send them to this guy I absolutely worship."
"Oh really?" The d.j. recovers, seeing things start to turn around. The hosts definitely root for a happy ending, but it's no surprise that angst makes their ratings soar.
The cringe-factor of someone confessing unaware to their infidelities.
Their listeners eat that up.
"Yup. The most amazing, sexiest man on the face of the planet. The man with the biggest heart of any human being I have ever met. The man I call the Energizer Bunny because he can go all. night. long. The man I hope to spend the rest of my life with.”
Kurt hiccups. His heart, a useless lump in his chest, lodges in his throat.
“And who would that---?” But before the d.j. can interject with their usual spiel, Sebastian continues.
“But I think he’s worth more than a bouquet I got for free from some lame-ass radio talk show. What do you think, Kurt?”
The line goes dead.
Kurt has been listening to this radio program religiously for close to seven years, and to his knowledge, this has never happened before - a caller called out by their s.o. But the d.j. is on it because he immediately plays an old school ‘wah-wah’ noise to show that Kurt has been caught.
“H-how did you know?” Kurt asks.
“Because I know you, Kurt,” Sebastian says. “I know the kinds of things you do when you panic, and you mostly panic when you feel like people you love are going to leave you.”
“Yeah?” Kurt sniffs, a tear rolling down his cheek. Adding to his list of things he hates, he hates that Sebastian knows him so well. “And what do I do?”
“You kind of go off the deep end.” Sebastian chuckles, lighthearted and anxious, reminiscent of the night he asked Kurt to be his for the first time. “And I understand why. I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. And I’m sorry about the late hours. I’ve just been caught up at work. I swear that’s all. But Kurt … can we talk about this when I get home? So I can look at you, in your eyes, and tell you that there’s no way in heaven or earth I would ever cheat on you? It took me a long time to win you over. There’s nothing that could persuade me to give you up, not for anyone.”
More sound effects - an awww followed by applause - play in the background as the d.j. and his co-host attempt to maintain control of the show.
“So … you don’t hate me?” Kurt asks.
“For which offense? Doubting me, my loyalty, and my love for you? Or airing our dirty laundry on the radio?”
“Uh …” Kurt awkwardly clears his throat. “All of the above?”
Sebastian sighs again. He sounds exhausted, but also like he can’t wait to get home and give Kurt a good ribbing. “Yes, babe. I forgive you.”
“Thanks. And I’m sorry about all this.”
“Apology accepted. I mean, what’re a few tawdry secrets among friends? Strangers? The barista down at Starbucks? My clients?”
“When should I expect you home?” Kurt rushes to cut him off, feeling more like a heel than he had before. “I know you have another big meeting and …”
“I’ll be home in about an hour. Wait … make that an hour and ten. I’m going to stop by a real flower shop and get you some roses. I think you’re overdue.”
“Really?” Kurt says, so astounded, so touched, he doesn’t hear the cheesy music the d.j. has started playing in the background.
“Yes, really. And Kurt?”
“Yes?”
“Be naked when I get there,” Sebastian growls.
The music stops, skidding to a halt with the sound of a record scratching. “Guys … uh … you’re still on the air.”
“Sorry not sorry there, champ,” Sebastian says and hangs up the call.
So does Kurt, shoving his phone in the freezer before the station tries to call back for a recap.
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A bit of a misunderstanding
Briefly (okay, not really) back to family trouble and that truely complicated almost-father-son-relationship between Napoleon and Eugène. In mid-February, as related earlier, Napoleon had had Josephine write to Eugène in order to repeat to him an order to evacuate Italy. This had wounded Eugène deeply as he – probably rightfully – saw this as distrust from Napoleon's side. Distrust in Eugène’s loyalty; apparently, Napoleon had felt the need to bring Josephine into this, in order to give Eugène sufficient motivation to remain in Napoleon’s camp.
And, as has also been said, Napoleon in truth had ample reason to question where Eugéne really stood in this struggle. From his private correspondence it becomes pretty clear that Eugène’s only hope for the empire to continue lay in Napoleon making peace, not in him winning. Eugène refused to go along with the plan to evacuate Italy (even if for good reasons), he had never completely given up his correspondence with the enemy (i.e., with his family in Bavaria), he continued to negotiate with Murat (in a way Napoleon could not directly oversee), and he had on several occasions even contacted his Austrian opponent Bellegarde, both on business (armistice) and in private matters: about his family.
The one thing Eugène truely worried about was the fate of his wife and children. He had four kids at the time (three daughters and one son), and Auguste was due to have her next child in mid-April. Eugène was mortified at the idea that Auguste might fall into the hands of enemy troops (or possibly of rioting Italians?) without him being able to come to her aid. (Maybe that’s his childhood memories resurfacing. He had grown up during a revolution, after all; he had lost a father on the scaffold.) In order to make sure nothing would happen to her, Eugène had contacted Bellegarde early on, and Bellegarde not only gave all sort of promises for Auguste’s safety and liberty, but even contacted his emperor. Who actually sent the following note:
Emperor Franz of Austria to the Vice Queen. Troyes, February 18, 1814:
Madam my cousin, Marshal Bellegarde having reported to me the determination of Your Imperial Highness to fix her stay momentarily at the castle of Monza, I pray her to be convinced that this general has perfectly fulfilled my intentions by anticipating all that can be pleasant to Your Imperial Highness. I have just ordered that a guard of honour be formed for your suite: your suite will in any case enjoy the most complete freedom, and I can only regret the reasons which force you, Madame, to a decision which would flatter me in all other respects. I beg you, Madame to accept the assurances of the very distinguished consideration with which I am, Madame my cousin, of Your Imperial Highness, the good cousin,
François.
This letter would reach Eugène and Auguste on March 2. On a sidenote: How all these good cousins and other relatives managed to write all these polite letters while having people fire at their recipients is beyond me. - Anyway, this is the letter Eugène asked Auguste to tell her father about in order to calm Max Joseph’s fluttering nerves.
It should also be pretty clear that this sort of amicable conversation between enemies was not what Napoleon had in mind when it came to defending the borders of his empire. And so, right after having sent off his own letter to Napoleon, defending himself about not evacuating Italy, Eugène received yet another missive from his imperial step-father.
Napoleon to Eugène. Château de Surville close to Montereau. February 19, 1814
My son, the vice queen must immediately go to Paris for her delivery; my intention being that under no circumstances she should remain in a country occupied by the enemy: therefore, make her leave immediately. [...]
This is when for Auguste and Eugène the proverbial shit really hit the fan. What could this be, other than Napoleon’s reaction to Eugène’s disobedience? Napoleon was basically taking Auguste hostage, in order to make sure Eugène would remain loyal to him!
On top of that, Auguste was already approaching the last five weeks of her pregancy, and as she had suffered of bad health after giving childbirth before, she had really not planned on travelling in her state, particularly not on winter roads. But that was not really what infuriated her. She had already been angry about Napoleon before, about the divorce, for him having stripped Eugène of his right to the crown of Italy, and especially for the reproaches regarding the evacuation of Italy. The way Auguste saw it, Eugène was always there, always Napoleon’s last resort, was always called in to clean up other people’s mess, and never did he get any reward for his efforts. In an earlier letter to Eugène she had already written:
I am appalled, my dear Eugène, and I am no longer surprised that the Emperor is abandoned. Is it possible to be more ungrateful than this man is? You who sacrifice everything for him, who have done wonders, to receive reproaches as a reward! No, my friend, I did not expect this last blow which crushes me, I feel all that you must feel at this moment, I am disgusted with this world and with men; it is clear, the family of the Emperor, and perhaps the Emperor himself, is jealous of you, they would like to see you make mistakes. The King of Naples will be forgiven his treason, but they will never forgive you for the reputation and esteem you enjoy. [...]
And now Napoleon ordered her to Paris. Under a pretext, obviously – after all, France was just as menaced by enemies as Italy! The Allied armies were closing in on Paris already. This really was too much!
Eugène’s own reply was still somewhat toned down, stating basically »Okay. I’ll tell her. She won’t like it. And I really don’t know what I have done to deserve this.« However, Auguste this time took to the plume as well.
Auguste to Napoleon. Milan, February 27, 1814.
Sire, Eugène has just communicated to me the order given to him by Your Majesty: it surprised me greatly, for I did not expect that after all the proofs of attachment Eugène never ceases to give you, you would also demand of him to risk the health and even the life of his wife and children, the only asset and consolation he has in this world. If he does not speak on this occasion, it is for me to do so.
Without doubt I know his and my duties towards Your Majesty. We have demonstrated this to you often enough, and we have never failed to do so; our conduct is known to all; we do not resort to intrigue, and we have no other guides than honour and virtue. It is a sad fact that our reward has been nothing but sorrow and mortification, which we have borne in silence and with patience.
Although we have done no harm to anyone, we have enemies, I cannot doubt it, who seek to harm us in your Majesty's mind; for, if you would open your heart, you would not treat us as you do.
What have I done to deserve such a harsh order of departure? When I got married, I never thought that things would come to this.
My father, the king, who loves me dearly, had offered to take me in when things were going so badly, so that I might be able to give birth in peace. But I refused, fearing that this step would cast doubt on Eugène's conduct, although his actions spoke for him, and I intended to go to France. I have since been ill, and the doctors told me that I would be risking a great deal if I made such a long journey at this time, being already in the eighth month of my pregnancy, and so I decided to retire to Monza, if Eugène was forced to leave Italy, believing that Your Majesty could not find it bad; but I see that you no longer take any interest in what may happen to me, which grieves me deeply.
In spite of this I will obey your orders, I will leave Milan if the enemies should come here; but my duty, my heart, makes it a law not to leave my husband, and, since you demand that I risk my health, I want at least to have the consolation of ending my days in the arms of the one who possesses all my tenderness and who makes all my happiness.
Whatever his fate will be, I will share it, and it will always be worthy of envy, since we will be able to say to each other that we have deserved a happier one, and that we will have a conscience without reproach.
In spite of the sorrows which Your Majesty is causing us, I shall never cease to rejoice in His happiness, and to wish for that of the Empress.
However, this time, they probably really did Napoleon an injustice. He, but also Josephine and Hortense had talked about Auguste coming to Paris for the birth of her child on several occasions before (apparently, all French ladies were convinced that life outside of Paris was unliveable). And Napoleon never made much words about personal matters. (This at least Eugène could have known – Eugène’s invitation to his own wedding had basically read: »Be here! Yesterday, if possible!«) Napoleon indeed answered Auguste very politely:
Napoleon to Auguste. Soissons, March 12, 1814.
My daughter, I received your letter; as I know the sensibility of your heart and vivacity of your mind, I am not surprised by the way in which you have been struck. I thought that, with your disposition, you would have a bad time in a war zone and among enemies, and that the best thing to do for your safety was to come to Paris. I did not tell you this earlier, because Paris was then in danger, and I saw nothing to gain by placing you in the midst of the alarms of Paris instead of those of Milan. But, as soon as the danger of Paris was over, I thought that this journey had all sorts of advantages for your state. Acknowledge your injustice, and it is your heart that I hold responsible for punishing you.
It was – who else - Eugène at the receiving end of the imperial wrath:
Napoleon to Eugène. Soissons, March 12, 1814.
My son, I have received a letter from you and one from the vice queen, both of which are extravagant! You must be out of your mind. It is by reason of human dignity that I wished the vice queen to come to Paris to give birth, and I know she is too delicate to find herself in this state among the Austrians. At the request of Queen Hortense, I could have written to you earlier, but then Paris was threatened. From the time when that city is free, there would be nothing simpler today than to come and give birth in the midst of one's family and in the place where there is the least cause for concern. You must be mad to suppose that this has anything to do with politics. I never change my style or my tone, and I have written to you as I have always written to you. It is unfortunate for the century in which we live that your reply to the King of Bavaria has earned you the esteem of the whole of Europe; as for me, I have not paid you a compliment because you have only done your duty and that is a simple thing. However, you have already been rewarded for it, even in the opinion of the enemy, whose contempt for your neighbour is in the highest degree. I am writing you a letter in figures to let you know my intentions.
»What’s up with you two? You gone both totally bonkers now? All I said was: come to Paris!«
This was basically the last »family« interaction between Napoleon and Eugène. At least for quite some time. After Napoleon’s abdication, Eugène did try to contact Napoleon, before and after Josephine’s death. There are three letters from that time, none of which seem to have reached Elba. As for later communications, during the Hundred Days and on Saint Helena, I know there was some, but this seems to have been almost completely about financial issues, at least from Napoleon’s side.
#eugene beauharnais#eugene de beauharnais#auguste von bayern#napoleon#italy1814#milan#Bellegarde#endofempire#is there life outside of Paris?
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