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chaeesposts · 1 year ago

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total mystery

summary: The new mystery on the block isn’t a new supernatural entity or government scientists. But rather the fact that somehow, the preppy, popular, cheer co-captain and class president of Hawkins High is dating Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson: repeat senior and leader of the Hellfire Club.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, everyone at Hawkins High (1) simps for you and (2) cannot believe their eyes and ears lol, pure fluff, typical opposites attract romance, Steve and Robin banter, Jason slander, humor, one OC named Carl, Eddie just being really goddamn in love to the point it's sickening

☆ word count: 3.8K+ ☆

a/n: the chokehold this man has over all of us... I get it now. Also I changed some stuff from the show to fit the story so please overlook any discrepancies!!! also i feel like i wrote too many kisses i'm sorry if that's annoying haha

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

“Did you hear?” Robin doesn’t even bother to greet Steve, seemingly out of breath and frazzled as she slides behind the counter of Family Video. Raising his eyebrow in confusion, Steve frowns and shakes his head sideways.

“Hear what?”

Robin grins mischeviously, looking side to side before leaning over to whisper.

“Apparently, (Y/n) (L/n) is dating Eddie Munson.”

Steve almost chokes on the can of diet coke he’s drinking, the carbonated liquid burning his throat as he coughs repeatedly to catch his breath. Robin looks way too amused for her own good, simply swinging her legs off of the counter as she adjusts her name tag onto her shirt. He has no idea how she can be so casual about it all, when Steve's eyes are almost bugging out of their sockets.

“THE (Y/n)? Like, co-captain of the cheer team, student president for two years in a row, only wears dresses and skirts to school every day (Y/n)?”

Robins rolls her eyes at her best friend’s dramatic reaction.

“Obviously. Do you know any other girls at Hawkins High with her exact name?”

Steve was suddenly grateful that today was a slow day - there was an eldery couple at the back looking through the historical fiction section and a young son and his mother lazily flicking through the new arrivals section, but otherwise the store was quite empty. Giving him a perfect excuse to press Robin for more information on this salacious rumor.

“Where did you even hear this?"

Robin shrugs, sliding off the counter to begin sorting through the cash register.

“Had to take a bus here and a group of juniors happened to be sitting in front of me. It’s all they could talk about for the entire twenty minute ride.”

Steve suppresses an eye roll at her response, turning sideways to glare at the busy brunette.

“Oh come on, then you CAN’T take the rumor seriously. People gossip all the time at Hawkins High! Most likely, someone saw them interacting in a very innocent manner - like running into each other in the hallway - and spun a romantic story out of it to fill their boredom.”

Robin clicks her tongue, shrugging her shoulders once more before closing the register and looking up at him with a sigh.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Steve. It’s just what I heard. And…” she pauses, chuckling. “In a weird way, I can kind of see it happening.”

“You’re completely out of your mind, Buckley.” Steve counters, confident that she's wrong.

“Yeah? How much you willing to bet for it?” Robin has a gut feeling that she’s right, and she’ll never pass up a chance to (a) prove Steve Harrington wrong and (b) make some money from it. Luckily, Steve seems to take the bait, straightening up at her proposal.

“Please, I’m confident enough to bet you $20 out the gate.”

“$20?! You’re-”

Then as fate would have it, the front door swings open and you enter the store, your white tweed jacket and matching skirt a sore contrast to the bright blue and red neon color palette of the store. Clutching a small leather handbag over your left shoulder, you seem a bit lost on where to start, before you make your way over to the new arrivals section. Steve hasn’t really seen you since his graduation a year ago - he was always aware of you, and the two of you did share some mutual friends - but he’d never really taken the time to get to know you.

But now, staring at you from the counter, Steven wishes he had made the effort to at least befriend you. He's watching in awe as your perfectly manicured nails tap alongside the cover of a random action movie, your bright eyes squinting at the title before turning it over to examine another tape. The neon glow from the signs above seem to illuminate your face perfectly, exposing your soft blush and sticky lipgloss, your lips parting ever so slightly to sound out the movie titles.

“Oy.” Robin then elbows him on the side, causing Steve to wince in mock pain. “Stop ogling at her. I know she’s hot, but she’s taken, remember?”

Steve glares at her response, before rolling up his sleeves and stretching his neck.

“Yeah right. Anyways. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go help our new… customer.”

Robin attempts to stop him but now there’s a line of previous customers at the checkout counter, effectively pinning her to behind the cash register. But then she spots Eddie’s van pull up in the parking lot outside, and suddenly that didn't seem so bad. Oh, this was going to be so interesting for her to watch.

You’re stuck trying to decide between two movies - Footloose and Sixteen Candles - when Steve casually strolls up next to you, flipping on his boyish charm. You sense someone else’s presence behind you and turn around to see Steve Harrington, pointing at the two selections you’re holding with a smile on his face.

“They’re both really good picks, but I prefer Footloose. It’s the perfect mix of comedy and drama. Plus you can’t go wrong with Kevin Bacon dancing to rock music in a town where it’s illegal.”

His comment makes you giggle - a light, melodic sound that makes Steve's whole body buzz with warmth.

“Thanks, Steve. Good to see you here, I haven’t seen you around since-”

“Since graduation, yeah. You’re almost there too, huh?” he teases, and you shift nervously on your feet.

“Oh yeah, senior year and all! I can’t believe my four years are coming to an end. It feels like just yesterday that I was a freshman, starting out in Hawkins as the new kid with zero friends. I’m so glad I’m not a freshman anymore.” you laugh nervously.

“I’m glad you’re not a freshman anymore, either.” Steve offers, stepping closer to you.

“Why’s that?” you hum, amused. Steve's grin widens as he prepares his next sentence.

“Cause now that you’re no longer a freshman, I can ask you-”

But Steve doesn't get to finish his sentence when two strong arms suddenly wrap around your waist, accompanied by a voice whispering “boo” into your ears. You jump at the sudden contact and noise, before realization dawns on you and you turn around to face Eddie, a semi-frown etched on your face.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack.” you smack him in the chest with your bag lightly, causing him to double over in laughter.

“I’m sorry, princess. But you’re just too fun to tease.”

Princess.

Steve’s blood runs ice cold at the nickname, as his eyes do a double take at the sight of you two together. His gaze follows as Eddie wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you right up against him as the metalhead takes out one of the movies from your hands and inspects it in the light.

“Sixteen Candles, huh? I know I said you could pick the movie this time but you’re really killing me with these choices, angel.”

“Oh actually, Steve recommended Footloose so I think we should rent that one!” you excitedly respond, linking your fingers with his.

“Sounds good to me. Can we check this one out?” Eddie asks politely, as Steve blinks wordlessly for a few moments. He’s shell shocked, embarrassed and confused as he forces himself to nod, trodding up to the counter and practically shoving Robin to the side to scan the damn VHS.

“Hi Robin!” you greet the girl at the counter with a wide smile, as her eyes light up.

“You know who I am?”

“Of course I do! One of my big campaigns last year was to increase the budget for our school’s band. You're amazing, by the way."

The two of you engage in light dialogue, but it all falls on deaf ears for Steve. Quickly completing the transaction and giving Eddie a forced grin, he watches as Eddie links his fingers with yours again, walking you away from the counter.

“Oh, wait!” you pause in your tracks, turning around to look at Steve. “Steve, you wanted to ask me something?”

The silence in the store is almost painful, with you looking at Steve with such innocence and wonder, Robin (badly) stifling her laugh behind Steve, and Steve’s ears going pink with embarrassment.

“No, it’s uh, it’s nothing! It was about student government but I can just ask someone else in the committee.”

You frown at his response, concerned.

“Are you sure? You can ask me right now!”

God, Steve wishes there was a hole he could dive under right now because the embarrassment is becoming almost unbearable.

“Yeah I’m sure.”

You give him another dazzling smile, bidding him and Robin goodbye, before the door closes behind you and Eddie, your laughter ringing in Steve's ears as Eddie impatiently pulls you towards his car. Steve can basically feel Robin’s gaze burning into his back as he turns around, dejected and mortified. Robin opens her mouth to tease him, but Steve quickly holds his hand up to stop his best friend from speaking.

“I know, I know. That was pathetic.”

“And I was right.” Robin smugly adds. “About (Y/n) and Eddie.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Robin lets a few moments of silence pass before she pokes him on the side.

“So, about the $20….”

-------------------------------

“The two of them together? No fucking way.” Jason put out the lit cigarette dangling from his mouth as he leanged against the metal railings of the Starcourt Mall, glaring at his teammate, Carl, who had just said that he had seen you and Eddie making out behind the bleachers last Friday. “(Y/n) is like, one of the hottest girls in school. Why the hell would she settle for a freak like him?”

“Beats me, man. Maybe it was just a one time thing?” Carl weakly offers, shrugging his shoulders. Jason doesn’t seem very satisfied at his friend’s answer, craning his neck and looking over the side of the railings. The mall is as busy as it gets on a Saturday like today, with families, couples and friend groups pushing against each other from store to store.

“I’ll see it when I believe it.” Jason puffs out his chest in annoyance, his tone laced with a twinge of anger and animosity that intrigues Carl.

“You have something against her or something?”

As soon as the question leaves Carl’s mouth, he remembers - last week’s party, by Chrissy’s pool house. Jason had strolled up to you with a drink in hand before asking you out, which you had flat out declined in front of basically the whole basketball team. It seemed as if the memory is also suddenly in Jason’s mind as the blonde rolls his eyes and shoves past his friend, swearing under his breath.

“You know damn well I don’t. Just shut the fuck up, okay? Let's just get some food."

His tone is decisive and Carl knows better than to push the blonde's temper any further.

“Sure.”

The two of them don’t speak whilst walking towards the food court, the distant sound of muffled conversations and music from stores filling the air. Jason is taking his time to look around, comparing his options, when he hears your unmistakable laughter from the end of the hall. He tears his gaze away from the booth, only to see you perched on Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson’s lap, feeding him spoonfuls of ice cream as his ring clad fingers brush against your exposed knees.

The sight makes the jock feel sick with anger and jealousy, and suddenly he’s glad that the mall is bustling with people. Through the crowds and crowds of strangers, the two of you seem blissfully unaware of the star basketball player’s envious gaze, too caught up in each other’s presence to notice anything else but each other. Then you kiss Eddie’s cheek, whispering something in his ears before leaving the ice cream cup in his hands to walk off somewhere.

Ignoring Carl’s protests to just “leave them alone”, Jason finds himself strolling up to his enemy, Jason's steps forceful and hurried. Eddie’s smile falters ever so slightly when he looks up at who’s suddenly standing in front of him, before an amused smirk appears on his face.

“Jason. What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honor, my good sir?” his voice is dripping with sarcasm and more than ever, Jason wants to smack the damn expression off of his face.

“Cut the shit, Munson. What the fuck are you doing with (Y/n)?” Jason aggressively questions.

“I was kissing her, duh.” Eddie responds as a matter-of-factedly, enjoying being able to tease the jock. It’s not often that Eddie has the true upper hand, actual power over someone like Jason - so he’s relishing in it now, watching the basketball player’s confident facade crumble like chalk as his chest heaves in angry breaths.

“I know that, jackass. I’m asking what the fuck you’re doing kissing HER.” the blonde presses, but Eddie simply leans back against the table nonchalantly, totally unbothered.

“She’s my girlfriend, buddy. What else would we be doing? Because if you’re worried that's all we do-” Eddie pauses, before leaning forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “No need. We do a lot more, if you get what I mean.”

Jason’s hands flare upwards to land a punch on Eddie's face but Carl beats the blonde to it, wrapping a hand on Jason’s wrist and tugging his friend backwards.

“He’s not worth it, dude. Besides, your mom said you’d be grounded if you got arrested for assault one more time.”

Jason stares straightforward at Eddie Munson with nothing but hatred in his heart, whilst the metalhead looks proud and relaxed, amused at how everything has played out. Shoving his teammate off, Jason straightens up, brushing his varsity jacket sleeves with his hands before pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.

“This is far from over, Munson.”

“Cool.”

Eddie’s more than aware that Jason is still staring at the two of you from across the dining hall, ignoring Carl’s attempts at conversation, and it’s what propels Eddie to do what he does when you return from the bathroom.

“I’m back!” you sing, sitting back down onto Eddie’s lap. You notice that Eddie's expression is now different, still sweet but something a bit sinister in his eyes, and it makes you tilt your head in confusion. “Anything happen while I’m gone?”

Eddie looks at your face, brushing your cheeks with his left hand, whilst his right hand rests on your upper thigh. He thanks whatever gods are up there that you’ve chosen to wear his favorite black dress today, cinched in at the waist with a belt, the fabric soft and the length just above your knees. Placing the ice cream to the side, he brings your face down for a hungry kiss, the taste of chocolate and raspberry still lingering on your lips. The knowledge that the smug blonde asshole - Jason Carver - is watching with seething jealousy across the hall makes it all the more satisfying when you eagerly return the kiss, Eddie’s left hand raising to pull you in closer by your neck.

After a few heated moments Eddie leans back and you let out a few breaths, frazzled and dazed at your boyfriend’s sudden affection.

“I’m definitely not complaining but… what was that for, Eds?”

Eddie decides not to give Jason the satisfaction of looking over at him, instead opting to lace his fingers with yours and gaze at you lovingly.

“Can’t I just kiss my beautiful girlfriend because I want to?”

-------------------------------

“And now, we have entered into the mystical lands of fa- Hello? Are any of you listening?” Eddie waves a hand in front of the freshmen boys' faces, noticing that their minds seem to be somewhere else. They sit there, unmoving, before Mike whispers something to Lucas, who in turn elbows Dustin.

“Right. Uh, we have a question for you. That's non D&D related.” he awkwardly starts to ask, causing Eddie to sigh.

“We’re in the middle of a campaign.” Eddie pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We know, we know, but it’s important.” Dustin insists, and Eddie can’t help but comply: he does have a soft spot for these kids, after all.

“Alright then.” Eddie sits himself down on a spare plastic chair facing the kids. “What is it?”

A moment of silence passes before Dustin blurts out the question that's been plaguging his and his friends' minds for the past few days.

“Can you give us tips on how to pick up girls?”

The question makes Eddie laugh, his head thrown backwards as a loud laugh rips through his throat, before his smile is wiped off by the serious looks on the kids’ faces.

“Oh, you’re being serious? Seriously? Why the hell would you ask me of all people that?”

“Because we heard-” Mike starts, only to be shot a warning glare by Lucas that makes him shut up. That catches Eddie’s attention, pointing the end of his ruler to Mike.

“No. What is it? Speak.”

“We heard that you’re dating (Y/n). Like, cheer co-captain and class president (Y/n).”

The mention of your name makes his heart warm and it’s hard to fight off the smile from rising onto his face.

“You heard right, Wheeler.”

The boys’ eyes light up at the admission before they all start speaking at once, clearly excited.

“Wait, really? I thought it was just Hawkins gossip.” “I knew it! I called it beforehand, honestly.” “So that’s why we want to know how you did it!”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Eddie shakes his head sideways at the freshmen boys’ antics.

“Look kiddos, I’m flattered that you’d want my advice on dating but I really don’t have much to tell you.”

Lucas groans at that.

“Oh, come on! There has to be something you said or did to land a girlfriend like (Y/n)! Tell us, please?”

The conversation is then interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at the door, before the door swings open to reveal you smiling sheepishly behind it. On your left hand you’re holding what looks to be Eddie’s beloved roleplaying notebook as you walk over and kiss Eddie on the cheek. You quickly realize that you’ve walked in on a fully active campaign, turning to look at three young freshman boys practically gawking at the sight of you being affectionate with Eddie.

“Oh. Hi there. I’m-”

“(Y/n) (L/n).” Dustin finishes for you, and you laugh. Eddie squints his eyes at the boys, clearly noticing the infatuation glazing over their eyes. It makes him pull you down onto his lap, resting his head on your shoulder as you laugh - you know that’s code for ‘I’m jealous, please give me attention.’

“That’s right. And you three must be-”

“Dustin.”

“Lucas.”

“Mike.”

The three of them seem to be really good friends, you note, almost in sync with the way they introduce themselves and fumble to straighten up their posture in your presence. It’s incredibly adorable, and you can easily see why Eddie is so protective and taken with them.

“Nice to meet you all. I’m so sorry for interrupting your game, I just noticed that Eddie left this behind in PreCalc and wanted to return it to him-”

“It’s fine, princess. Actually you have impeccable timing, because these three boys wanted to know how I managed to land myself a girl like you.” Eddie says, rubbing circles into your left palm.

You laugh at Eddie's comment, before you see that Dustin, Lucas and Mike have leaned over to hear your response, completely serious expression on their faces.

“Oh. You guys genuinely want to know?” you're surprised.

The young boys all nod empathetically, and you casually look over at your boyfriend, who is smiling down at you mischievously.

“Well go on, baby. Tell them how I won a girl like you over.”

“Okay. Um… Eddie didn’t really have to do anything to win me over. I fell for him because he's... him. He’s charming, kind and funny. He’s passionate about music and protecting his friends. He’s wholly and unapologetically himself in an environment that tries to sap any kind of authenticity from you. If anything, I don’t know how I was so lucky enough to land a boyfriend like Eddie.” you finish, looking back at the senior with a soft smile on your face. Eddie's secretly getting choked up at your kind words but masking it behind a boyish smirk, shifting you on his lap.

“Aw, all those nice things and you didn’t even mention my devilishly handsome looks!” he complains.

You roll your eyes at his antics before looking back at the three boys.

“Yes, that too. It helped that Eddie is a good looking man. There. You happy?”

Eddie swears he can see the whole universe in your eyes. He never wants to stop looking into them.

“With you? Always.”

The boys collectively groan in disgust when Eddie pulls you down for a swift kiss, with Lucas loudly yelling that he was going to throw up. Eddie tells them to shut up as you stifle a laugh, quickly getting up and re-adjusting the varsity jacket on your shoulder.

“I should get going. I slipped out of a student council meeting to come down here to give Eddie the notebook. Are we still on for tonight?” you ask Eddie, who nods in response.

“Of course.”

The room’s still masked in stunned silence when you wave the boys goodbye and disappear into the hallway, the rest of the D&D game long forgotten in their minds. Eddie waves his hands in front of their faces again, exasperated at their lack of focus.

“Oi, freshmen! Can we get back to the game now?”

-------------------------------

Eddie swears the only quiet moments with you in this bustling, nosy town is in his bedroom. You’re laying against his chest, your body laying between his legs as he gently attempts you teach you the first few notes of his new song. Your skirt’s bunched up to your thighs and your frilly socks are rubbing against his bare legs, your cute giggles escaping every so often when he compliments you on getting a note right by kissing your face.

The sun’s started to set, bathing the trailer in red and orange glow, and he swears you look practically angelic in this light. Hair frayed around your face, your lower teeth biting your lips in concentration, your delicate fingers thrumming lightly against the guitar. With every shift against Eddie, your cardigan falls down to expose your shoulder and Eddie resists the urge to mark you up right then and there.

Noticing that he’s stopped instructing you on what to do, you stop playing, looking up at him with curiosity.

“Is something wrong?”

God, Eddie thinks, the kids were right. He has no idea how he has landed someone like you.

“Everything’s perfect, princess. Just… a lot of thoughts are in my head at the moment.”

You frown at his response, setting the guitar to the side before pulling back to face Eddie.

“Is it about all the Hawkins students getting on your ass about us dating? I’m really sorry, I tried to do some gossip patrol today but people really like talking and drama and-”

“No, no, it’s fine.” he assures you, placing two warm hands on your face. “I get why people talk. I mean me, Eddie Munson. Freak of the school, best known for supposedly devil worshipping and not being able to pass senior year. Getting to kiss and hold hands with you, miss co-captain and class president? Of course people would wanna talk."

Your expression softens at his admission.

“Well… you know what they say, opposites attract.” you tease, leaning forward to kiss him lightly. This time, your lips taste like cherry - he figures you must’ve been applying cherry chapstick whilst he was in the bathroom a few minutes ago. He’s hungry for more, never satisfied with just one kiss as he pulls you back onto him once more.

“I guess they do.”

The entire school doesn’t understand how you two are dating. Eddie isn’t quite sure why either. But he’s more than happy to let it be a mystery - so long as he gets to continue to hold onto you like this.

-> a/n: I hope we get to see a lot more from him in the show in vol 2 and onwards! Anyways, I really hope y'all enjoyed it: please let me know if you did and if you'd like me to write more in this fandom by liking/commenting/reblogging and what not.

❤️ Drink water, nourish your body and be kind to yourself today ❤️

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chaeesposts · 1 year ago

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EVERYONE WAKE UP CH 4 OF TRAINING WHEELS IS OUT

i live for this

TRAINING WHEELS

CHAPTER FOUR | THE START OF SOMETHING NEW

ao3 I series masterlist | previous chapter I next chapter

five years ago, you stupidly had a fling with inarizaki athlete, miya atsumu- now, present day- he had a son he knew nothing about. you made sure it was going to stay that way, but as fate would have it, he unexpectedly stumbled back into your lives, now as volleyball's biggest star.

wc & notes: 9.5k words (i am FRIED) — they said it couldn’t be done, but consider the “doesn’t update anymore” allegations BEAT. longer writers note on ao3 LMAO. pls enjoy and ignore any errors i am dying guys

“I can’t believe you never told me!”

You tossed a bag of apples into the grocery cart.

“You knew I had a crush on Miya Atsumu ever since I saw him shirtless on last year’s Vogue Japan cover! How could you not say anything?!”

You pretended to inspect a carrot thoroughly. Naomi wasn’t convinced. She knew you didn’t even like carrots.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

You started pushing the cart faster.

“Well, if you’re not going to answer, can you at least tell me if he was good in bed?”

The grocery cart came to a screeching halt as your eyes widened like saucers. The piercing sound made both of you wince as the supermarket stocker dropped a handful of vegetables from shock. You hurriedly scurried away to another section of the grocery store while Naomi trailed after you.

“I take that as a yes?” Naomi chuckled nervously. You stared daggers at her before your friend took the silent hint to shut up.

“Naomi,” you sighed, continuing through the snacks aisle. “It’s not exactly easy telling people the father of your son is Japan’s biggest athlete. Don’t take it the wrong way, I never meant for anyone to find out,”

“But you can see how that played out,” you continued trying to avoid making a grimace, but your face couldn’t help it.

Naomi nodded quietly. “I’m sorry for prying.”

“It’s alright,” you rolled your eyes. “And yes, he was good. Though, it was in a bathroom.”

Naomi let out a shriek that sounded vaguely like your name as you continued through the grocery store.

It’s odd, you thought, your world was flipped upside down and nobody would be none the wiser. The past twenty four hours was whiplashing. Not only had your past fling turned volleyball superstar, not to mention the father of your child, reappeared in your life, he was here to stay. You had always assumed if your dirty little secret were to get out, the floodgates would wash your carefully constructed life away and that nothing would be the same. And in a way, it was, but there you were, grocery shopping with Naomi on a quiet Tuesday morning like nothing had happened.

You could still hardly believe it, honestly. The moment you realized you were going to be a mother five years ago, you imagined that the rest of your life after you looked at that positive pregnancy test would be without him. You assumed that he would prioritize his budding career, his passion for volleyball, above you. You were just some girl he had a fling with after all. Why would he throw away the promising life he had for you? But, for reasons you couldn’t fathom, he ended up choosing to stay. And willingly. He could’ve walked out the moment he stepped foot into Onigiri Miya, but he didn’t.

It made you wonder, would he have made the same decision five years ago? To stay? Would things have been different now if you had him by your side then?

Did you make a mistake not telling him all those years ago?

Naomi’s voice broke your thoughts. “How’s your baby daddy doing with the whole ‘new parent’ thing anyway?”

You instinctively cringed. “Please never call him that again.”

“Well, what else would I call him?”

You rolled your eyes as you tossed a bag of Haru’s favorite chips into the cart.

“Well, all things considered, he’s doing okay. I think.”

You weren’t really sure, typically, one doesn’t have a secret family pop up from nowhere.

“And how are you doing with your baby daddy?” Naomi continued.

You ignored the nickname, much to your dismay, you guessed it wasn’t going anywhere soon. You thought back to the question for several moments, but there just wasn’t anything that could begin to describe what on earth was going on in your mind.

“I don’t know,” you stated simply. “It’s weird knowing he’s going to be around, I guess.”

“Weird?” Naomi repeated, tilting her head. “I thought it was a good thing?”

“It definitely is,” you replied, before sighing. “I just… don’t know how to be around Atsumu.”

You never meant for him to be in your life in the first place, so you weren’t sure where he was going to fit now that he was in it, for better or for worse.

“Well, I’m sure he’s feeling the same way too,” Naomi reassured. “Maybe you should bring up spending more time with one another. Get to know each other, y’know?”

You paused, maybe that wasn’t a half bad idea. You pushed your cart to the checkout lane.

Despite Atsumu having an early morning the next day, he didn’t sleep the entire night after returning home from your apartment. And who could blame him? He had too much to think about. On the bright side, he had an early start to his morning unlike the day before. He thought that maybe by being earlier for practice he would get out of his coach’s scolding, but Coach Foster was already waiting for him at the gymnasium despite him arriving a whole hour early.

“You better have a good explanation for running out on practice yesterday, especially with the start of the season so close!” Coach Foster scowled with his arms crossed the moment Atsumu sheepishly walked into the gymnasium.

Atsumu sucked in his teeth and hoped he would believe the events of the prior night. Guess he would just have to find out…

Five minutes later, inside one of the secluded offices inside the gymnasium and away from prying ears, Coach Foster’s jaw was hanging open in a mixture of shock, horror, and disbelief. Truthfully, he considered filing for early retirement right then and there.

“You’re telling me you have a son?” Coach Foster asked in a hushed whisper. Atsumu nodded and the man gave a heavy sigh as he rubbed his temples.

“Honestly, Atsumu…”

Coach Foster sighed deeply as he rubbed his temples. In his time as a professional sports coach, he had seen his fair share of scandals amongst his athletes, but this one might’ve taken the cake. Initially, he hadn’t believed him, chalking it up to one of his usual pranks, but Atsumu’s conviction was deathly serious. Not to mention the picture he handed him was jarring. The boy looked just like him.

“I hope that you know what a massive responsibility this is,” Coach Foster said, beginning his lecture. He was honestly still in disbelief over the news his setter broke to him. And honestly, he was debating if what he was hearing was even true, picture or not.

“I didn’t have my first child until I was in my thirties, you’re still only twenty-three, and not to mention still a little immature–”

“I’m gonna be a part of his life no matter what,” Atsumu stated firmly, cutting him off.

Usually he knew better than speaking against his senior, but he quickly came to his own defense.

“I wasn’t there in the beginnin’, so I’m gonna make up for lost time and be there for Haru.”

The Coach was taken aback by Atsumu’s tone, before shaking his head with a chuckle. He had known the setter for some quite some time, being there to see the progression of his career from when he started the league until now. He had never quite taken the young setter seriously when it came to real life experiences, he was still so young after all, but he would almost say he was proud of Atsumu for stepping up. But time would tell if he could fill in the shoes of a father.

“I believe in you,” Foster simply said. “But this does raise a few issues though.”

“Like what?”

“Well, we are going to have to talk to the PR team about this. You’re one of Japan’s most famous athletes right now, and you have paparazzi hounding your every move. It would probably be in the best interest of your son and the mother to stay under the radar until you find a way to announce this publicly without sparking controversy, which is already difficult enough considering the circumstances.”

Atsumu thought silently. In the midst of all the chaos, he hadn’t thought yet how his career could negatively affect you and Haru. He wasn’t sure how he would handle it yet, but he could feel a protective surge in his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure this is handled discreetly,” Coach Foster said.

Atsumu thanked the man, before being instructed to return to practice. As the door closed, Coach Foster sighed deeply, he sure had his work cut out for him.

As Atsumu entered the gym, he was almost immediately bombarded by his teammates. Bokuto and Hinata practically tackled him down the moment he stepped into practice.

“”Tsumu! Where’d you go last night?” Bokuto exclaimed, appearing at his side. “I wanted to practice my spikes with you!”

“Coach was mad,” Hinata shivered beside him. “He said he’d make you run triple the amount of laps today–” Atsumu gulped at the thought of the coach’s training being even more intensive than it already was.

“”Samu had a problem at the restaurant and needed some help,” Atsumu replied as nonchalantly he could. It wasn’t entirely false but it sure as hell wasn’t a good lie either. But before Hinata and Bokuto could press more, Coach Foster bounded out of his office.

“Enough small talk! We need to start our warm ups.” Coach Foster announced. Atsumu nearly sighed in relief, until he realized he was probably going to be worked to the bone.

The rest of practice went on as usual, except for Coach Foster making the session more grueling for Atsumu in particular. He bit back his complaints, already knowing this wouldn’t be the last of his coach’s discipline for him. He probably deserved it, anyway.

Later, after a practice what Atsumu could only call torturous, Coach Foster blew his whistle and beckoned the team over.

“It seems I have an unexpected meeting with the PR representatives,” Coach Foster announced, “so we’re going to call off practice early today!”

Atsumu caught a glare from Coach Foster that could unmistakably only be meant for him. He hoped nobody else caught it or the fact his face was mortified, but thankfully everybody else on the team seemed too busy celebrating the abrupt end to practice.

“Take the rest of the day to recover, that’s all!”

Atsumu practically felt the weight on his shoulders dissipate as he headed for the lockerroom. His bones were aching at that point, and the only thing he wanted to do was collapse onto one of the benches. He went into his locker and dug his phone out of his practice bag. Going through his notifications, he was surprised to see his first message was from you.

You (12:35pm):

hey, how do you feel about spending more time together?

You (12:35pm):

to get used to being around each other i mean

You (12:36pm):

sorry, i don’t really know how to go about this

You (12:37pm):

my bad, you’re busy at practice probably

You (12:37pm):

sorry, just ignore this

He quickly wrote back.

Atsumu (12:45pm):

nono, don’t worry, i just got out of practice actually

Atsumu (12:45pm):

i don’t how to go about this either, but i would love to spend more time with ya and haru

Exhaustion long forgotten, Atsumu grabbed his bag and headed out of the gym with a noticeable smile on his face.

You groaned as you slumped down on the staircase of your apartment complex. Of course the elevator decided to go out of service when you had an entire weeks worth of groceries to bring up. You barely had made it up to floor three before you decided to give up. Now, you were collapsed onto the step of the stairs surrounded by what seemed to be an endless sea of bags. How were you going to make it up another seven flights?

You heard footsteps behind you, presumably from someone who was also inconvenienced by the lack of elevators.

“Sorry,” you groaned as you got to your feet as you collected up one of the bags. “I was just taking a break from taking up these damn groceries–”

“Do ya need help?” You perked up, you certainly weren’t in a position to say no.

You looked up to thank the stranger for their offer and are met with Atsumu instead. Miya Atsumu, who definitely doesn’t live in your building.

What on earth?-- Oh no. Oh no. He thought your message about spending more time together meant today. You were so caught up in bringing up your groceries that you hadn’t bothered to check your phone to see his response.

You were suddenly all too aware of the sweatpants you haphazardly threw on and the shirt you’re pretty sure Haru stained with paint from his fingerpainting phase last month. You won’t even begin on whatever hairstyle you haphazardly did this moring. You were under the impression that all you were doing was going to the supermarket with Naomi so you didn’t bother getting properly dressed. Now you were standing infront of him a sweaty mess as he looks as if he just walked off a magazine shoot with his fresh-out-of-a-workout glow, designer tracksuit, and practice bag swung effortlessly over his shoulder.

“Hey!” You quickly said, not prepared to greet him as you clutched tightly onto the bag full of produce in your hands. “I didn’t– uh– expect you to come today.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows creased in confusion before the realization flashed on his face.

“Oh! Ya meant for that message to be in general.” Atsumu exclaimed, and he looked noticeably embarrassed. “Sorry, I just thought–”

“Nono!” You stammered, trying to collect yourself. “It’s okay, I’m off today anyways. Besides, I need help with these bags.” Atsumu cracked a smile at you before reaching down to grab a handful of bags, which was alot more than you could carry by yourself.

“Here, let me take these too,” he offered, extending his hands out to take the bag in your hands.

“You don’t have to take them all, y’know,” you replied. The poor man already had about four in his arms already. Though, he was carrying the heavy bags without even straining himself, unlike yourself. A rigorous workout schedule would do that, you suppose

“Consider this the first of many repayments,” he chuckled as he took a bag out of your hands. You felt yourself tense when you felt his fingers skim over your hand, and you had to clutch onto the bag tighter for it not to tumble out of your hands.

You forgot about how stupidly charming he was. It’s what got you into this mess in the first place.

Once you both situated yourselves, you lugged up the stairs and finally reached your apartment. You were noticeably more out of breath than Atsumu was, who didn’t seem to break a sweat despite carrying up twice the amount of bags you did.

“I guess all that professional athlete training came in handy,” you snorted as you went to unlock the door.

“Coach made sure to put me through it this mornin’ for the stunt I pulled yesterday,” he chuckled. “Guess it was good trainin’ for carryin’ up all these bags.”

“I guess I’ll have to keep you around for my next grocery trip,” you snickered as you placed your bags in the kitchen as Atsumu followed.

“I’ll be here for as many trips as ya need.”

The comment was meant to be innocent, but it nearly made you stop in your tracks. You knew he was here to stay from your conversation the night before, but hearing him affirm it was unexpected. It still hadn’t sunk in yet. A day ago, Miya Atsumu was a distant memory, and today he was standing in your kitchen helping you bring in groceries. Would you ever get used to this?

“Where’s Haru?” Atsumu asked, looking around to see no trace of the small boy.

“School,” you answered as you began to unpack the bags onto your counter. “I have a few hours until I have to go pick him up if you wanna join me.”

“Of course,” he replied with a quick eagerness, “what do ya wanna do until then?”

Shit, you didn’t think about the fact you would be with Atsumu alone for the time being.

Alone. With your ex-fling.

Who you refused to admit is starting to make your heart beat a little faster.

Suppressing any of the silly leftover schoolgirl feelings you still harbored, you reminded yourself that Atsumu was kind out of courtesy of the situation between you two. You two are still strangers, fling aside.

Before you could open your mouth to answer, your stomach decided to interrupt the conversation with a undeniable grumble. You immediately grabbed your stomach in attempt to silence it, but there was no way Atsumu didn’t hear it. Your face flushed, and you regretted sleeping in and deciding to skip breakfast that morning.

“I think that means ya want lunch.” You wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

“I’m mortified, but that sounds great right about now,” you nervously laughed. “I can cook us something–”

“I can’t let ya cook, it’s yer day off!” Atsumu interjected as if he were offended you would suggest such an idea. “C’mon, let me take ya out.”

“Atsumu, I look like a mess right now,” you chuckled, looking down at your clothes. “I don’t think–”

“Ya look great so that’s not an excuse,” he interjected and you’re taken aback from the sudden compliment. Surely you couldn’t look that great with your old college t-shirt decorated in paint splatters. But Atsumu looked adamant in his statement with the way he was staring you down.

“C’mon, it doesn’t have to be anythin’ fancy,” he insisted. “We could just go to Osamu’s, on me.”

Your stomach was practically begging for attention at that point and you groaned, knowing it was too good an offer to pass down. Not to mention, you couldn’t keep holding eye contact with him without melting onto the floor. It’s almost intimidating, the way he won’t back down.

“Alright, alright, but let me change at least.”

“Good,” Atsumu grinned as you scurried off into your bedroom.

You quickly got changed into a pair of jeans and the first decent shirt you spotted in your closet. It’s simple, but a pretty shade of green with a flattering neckline. You knew the lunch wasn’t going to be anything fancy, but it didn’t stop you from putting on the jewelry you had sitting on your dresser and swiping on some lip gloss. You gave yourself a quick look in the mirror, not bad in ten minutes.

You headed back to the kitchen where you left Atsumu, who was sitting at the counter as he absentmindedly scrolled on his phone.

“C’mon Miya, you owe me lunch,” you chimed as you grabbed your keys off the table.

Atsumu looked up and you swore he opened up his mouth to say something, but immediately clammed up.

“What is it?” You asked, tilting your head. He suddenly seemed nervous, which was a stark difference from his calm demeanor not even a second ago.

“Ya– uh– just look nice, let’s go.”

Before you could react, Atsumu was already heading for the door.

Stupidly and annoyingly charming.

You hoped this meal wouldn’t be the death of you.

The elevators seemed to be back in service as Atsumu had already called it up by the time you locked the door and made your way to him down the hall.

It’s just lunch, you had to tell yourself as you both got inside quietly. Don’t be so nervous. But it didn’t stop your hands from fidgeting as you watched the elevator floor level slowly descend down before dinging at the first floor.

You both exited and you barely made it a few steps out the front door before you heard the beep of a car. You turned beside you to spot arguably the flashiest sports car you’ve ever seen parked next to your quaint apartment building. It seemed as though it came right from the dealership with it’s perfect white paint job and bright gleam. It couldn’t belong to anyone but the professional athlete himself beside you. That V-League paycheck must be cushy.

“Wow.” It was pretty much all you could say.

“I got it when I first went pro,” he chuckled as he brought you to the passenger side. “Kind of an impulsive decision.”

You snorted as he opened the door for you and let you inside. “I thought this lunch was supposed to be casual.”

“As casual as it can be, considerin’ the circumstances,” he said as he got into the drivers seat and you rolled your eyes. Right, nothing about this was casual.

“I probably gotta get somethin’ different soon though,” he noted as he turned on the engine and the car revved to life.

“Why’s that?”

“Not enough room for a carseat in the back,” he responded simply as he pulled the car out. “Or would it be a booster seat? I’m not really sure.”

You were taken aback. “You already thought of that?--”

“‘Course I did,” Atsumu replied like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Thought ‘bout it on my way over here.”

You knew Atsumu was serious when he said he wanted to make a commitment, but you just didn’t think he’d be ready for change so quickly. If he was already thinking about getting a whole new car just for the sake of a booster seat, what else was he ready to change? Co-parenting wasn’t something you ever considered, much less planned for. You shook it off, knowing you were getting ahead of yourself. Right now was just lunch, and that was all. You busied yourself with looking out the window as you watched the streets go by.

“How long have ya been in Osaka?” He asked, eyes focused on the road.

“A little before Haru was born,” you answered. “Before that I lived with my grandmother in Kagawa before she passed, and after that I moved to Osaka because I knew their university had a babysitting service for parents getting their degrees.”

“So about five years?”

“Just about, why do you ask?”

“I’ve been in Osaka since I went pro after high school…” Atsumu mumbled and there’s a noticeable regret in his tone. “I just can’t believe I never knew ya were here.”

“Atsumu, don’t beat yourself up,” you sighed, looking away from the window and back at him. “It’s an enormous city and I was purposefully avoiding you the entire time.”

Though you tried to reassure him, his demeanor was still crestfallen as he drove.

“Y’know, I even avoided sports stores because I was scared I’d run into you there. Haru’s gym teacher hates me because I never get his uniforms on time.”

The last line made Atsumu snort and you’re glad he didn’t seem as dejected. “And what if I was there?”

“I actually had to go last month to pick up sneakers for Haru,” you rolled your eyes. “They had a lifesize cardboard display of you and I thought it was actually you. I ran away so quickly the cashier thought I was a thief.”

You manage to get a smile to crack through Atsumu after all. You realize you eventually made it to Osamu’s restaurant as Atsumu parked beside it. Before you could even manage to open your door, Atsumu had already made it to the passenger door outside and opened it for you.

“You know you don’t need to do that,” you chuckled as you climbed out.

“Nah, but I wanna.”

Your heart needed to stop doing whatever the hell it was doing in your chest.

It seemed like you weren’t going to win as Atsumu made sure to open the restaurant door for you as well. You walked inside as the bell chimed on the door as you spotted Osamu behind the front counter.

“Could ya please stop coming in here durin’ my breaktime?!” Osamu barked as he tossed the towel strewn over his shoulder directly at his brother’s head. “I need to start lockin’ the damn doors because of ya!”

“How else can I eat in privacy?” Atsumu whined, grabbing the towel off his face. “I haven’t recovered from the time the tabloids posted all those pictures of me eatin’ your onigiri!”

“It’s because ya ate eight in one sittin’!” Osamu exclaimed, before noticing you standing behind Atsumu. He immediately composed himself from his previous hostility. “Oh, I didn’t realize ya were here.”

“Hi,” you waved meekly. “Sorry for coming in, I had no idea you were on break.”

Osamu scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. “No worries, I’m used to this moron bargin’ in here anyways. Take a seat and I’ll fix ya somethin’.”

You both got sat in one of the nearby booths as Osamu got you settled before heading into the back kitchen to get started on cooking. The restaurant was empty, and you realized Atsumu’s habit of coming in during Osamu’s breaktime was probably so he could eat in privacy.

“Oi, ‘Samu!” Atsumu called into the nearby kitchen. “Make some extra gyoza!”

“Oh, that’s my favorite!” You exclaimed. You were practically starving at this point, so the mention of the food made your mouth water.

“Ya always packed some for lunch back in high school, right?” Atsumu noted. It was true, if you didn’t pack any from home, you would sneak out to the convenience store to buy some instead.

“How on earth do you remember that?” You snorted. His memory was spot-on, especially since high school felt like eons ago.

Atsumu shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Is your favorite food still tuna?”

“How’d ya know that?” Atsumu asked, noticeably surprised, as if he didn’t remember the detail about you moments ago.

“Haru eats it all the time, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree apparently,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “He’s like a mini you.”

Atsumu smiled softly and looked at his hands placed onto the table. He was fiddling with his fingers, roughed up probably from all the time he played volleyball. He seemed nervous.

“He is?” He said, almost shyly. Not like the typically confident guy he was.

“Yup,” you answered, resting your hand on your face. “Earlier when you were bickering with Osamu, it reminds me of when Haru starts to whine.”

“Really?” He asked excitedly, before his face flashed with realization. “Wait, hey!--”

You laughed as Atsumu scoffed but it seemed more like a pout with the way he jutted out his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. It made you think about how uncanny the two looked. You couldn’t help but smile as Atsumu turned back to you, his face still a bit peeved at your earlier jab.

“I still feel like I don’t know enough about ya still,” Atsumu noted.

You paused. Five years of avoidance would do that… But now it was different. You didn’t have to force the distance anymore unlike before.

“That doesn’t matter, does it? We aren’t in a rush to.”

Atsumu smiled at you again and you felt your heart still. “No, we’re not.”

Whenever he looked at you, you became acutely aware just how present Atsumu was. It almost didn’t seem real. He wasn’t just some image you saw from afar, like interviews on TV or in magazines you saw at the convenience store. And somehow, he wasn’t leaving or running away like you thought he would be. Nothing was separating you, he was infront of you and here with you.

And as happy as it made you, it scared you just as much.

“You haven’t told me anything about yourself,” you noted, wanting to change the topic. “I feel like I’m doing all the talking here.”

Atsumu shrugged. “My life’s pretty much an open book, what do ya wanna know?”

Atsumu was right, he was in the limelight even before he went pro. Anything you wanted to know about him was probably written somewhere online by fans or reporters. You remembered that back in high school, he was already getting recognized by national recruiters, not to mention having an army of fangirls. You vaguely remembered them giving you– and any other girl– shit for even breathing in his general direction, you couldn’t imagine what they would have done to you had they known you both were secretly hooking up. You weren’t sure how Atsumu always kept his composure despite majority of his life being constantly under a microscope.

You, for one, wouldn’t know how to handle it, and it was partially the reason you hid from him for so long. You wondered how long you could hide from the watchful eyes on Atsumu. At some point, they would be on you.

“Is it hard?” You blurted out.

Atsumu paused at your sudden statement. “What is?”

Maybe it wasn’t appropriate for you to be asking something personal for what was supposed to be a casual luncheon, but it the question already came out of your mouth.

“Being famous. Doesn’t it get tiring having to be watched all the time?”

You half expected Atsumu to crack some wise joke about how he was meant to be famous, his boisterous confidence was undoubtedly star-material after all, but he paused again. You noticed him looking at the wall behind you, and you turned over your shoulder to spot a picture frame hung up. It was a picture of his high school team, with Atsumu front and center with his usual plastered grin.

“Yeah, I think it does sometimes.”

You wanted to ask more, but you didn’t think you should. You didn’t think it was a line you should cross. At least, not yet. You were reminded of the fact you two were still practically strangers.

You had nearly forgotten you were there to eat had it not been for Osamu coming around the corner with a steaming tray of food. You barely were able to stop your mouth from salivating once Osamu placed the plates onto the table.

“This is for ya,” Osamu stated harshly, shoving what could only be a receipt into Atsumu’s face.

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?!” Atsumu barked, snatching the paper from his brother’s hand. “What happened to my family discount?”

“She eats free, but after what ya put me through, ya pay double now.”

Atsumu couldn’t think of anything to retort as he shamefully shoved the receipt into his pocket, muttering something about his ‘good for nothin’ brother’. You couldn’t help but giggle.

Osamu turned back to you. “‘Least I can do is make ya food, so stop in anytime.”

You quickly thanked Osamu for his generous offer before he left the two of you alone in the booth.

“I should’ve bombarded into here sooner if I knew it would have gotten me free food,” you chuckled, immediately going to grab one of the various riceballs infront of you. The taste didn’t disappoint either. Osamu must’ve been a magician, because the food could’ve only been this good with the help of magic. No wonder he had rows of culinary awards plastered on his walls.

“Speakin’ of which, how on earth didn’t ya realize ‘Samu was my twin brother?” Atsumu asked, laughing. “His face didn’t ring any bells?”*

You groaned through your bite of rice. “Listen…”

The rest of your lunch carried on with less stress than you had originally imagined. You thought that underlying tension would weigh down the majority of your meeting and the rest to come, but the two of you got on so… easily. As if Atsumu wasn’t the last person you wanted to see, not even a day ago. You guessed it was from Atsumu’s obnoxiously pleasant personality, one that got you into trouble all those years ago, that made you feel so relaxed. It was a wonder how he was so easygoing in the first place, while you were still a jumbled ball of nerves.

“Should we go pick up Haru now?” Atsumu asked, nodding towards the time on the clock. It was nearing the time you were supposed to go pick him up from school.

“Yeah, but…”

You turned to look out the window of the flashy car parked outside and you grimaced. You couldn’t imagine the faces– not to mention the salacious gossip that would ensue– of the other preschool moms if you suddenly pulled up in a car worth more than your monthly rent, with a man in tow nonetheless. You already got enough shit for being a single parent, and you didn’t want to give those haughty women the idea you were somehow some sort of sugar baby too.

You looked back to Atsumu, bright-eyed and grinning a magazine-selling smile, and you realized his celebrity face was probably more conspicuous than his car.

Maybe you should’ve felt bad for making Atsumu wear a face mask and park two streets away, and probably should have felt worse for having him steal the baseball cap right off of Osamu’s head before heading out, but you imagined it would have been worse if Japan’s favorite athlete was suddenly sitting beside you in a lobby full of Osaka’s most talkative housewives. While it seemed nobody had caught onto his identity since majority of his features were covered, you still caught a few of the parents glancing in your direction. Their curiosity was understandable, it was common knowledge you were on your own, so bringing a man with you was surely an eyebrow-raiser.

“That lady with the scary makeup keeps staring at me and it’s making me nervous,” Atsumu whispered in the seat beside you.

You looked in the direction he was referring to and caught one of the moms, Hitomi, staring directly at Atsumu. Her stark plum-red lipstick paired with spidery false lashes was daunting to look at. Not to mention, she had a personality to match. Her stuck-up personality had already grinded your nerves to a tipping point and the school year had barely began. Even Haru had a disdain for her daughter, Yuki, claiming she constantly hogged all the toys to herself during recess.

“Y/N, you have company today!” She chirped happily.

Translation: Who’s this man with you?

It was obvious she wanted to know who Atsumu was. Hitomi apparently didn’t have much shame as her eyes didn’t even bother to meet yours as she raked her eyes up and down Atsumu’s body. While his face wasn’t discernible though his mask, his well-built body had most of the women in the room stealing glances at him. It was obvious, even with the mask, he was definitely handsome.

You realized there were other onlookers in the room silently listening in. Hitomi was putting on a show. However, you were expecting as much.

“Ah, yes, this is my colleague from work,” you responded, hoping your lie wasn’t transparent. “We were out nearby for a meeting and he accompanied me today to come get Haru.”

“How kind of him!” She grinned. “Will we be seeing more of him?”

Translation: Is this a man in your life? A boyfriend, perhaps?

“Just for today,” you lied through an insincere smile. The entire exchange was already proving to be a headache. You were hoping that Hitomi would just give up and believe your fib that today was just an appearance from a kind coworker.

“Actually! I’m tryin’ to come more often.” Atsumu replied cheerfully beside you, breaking his silence.

You cracked your neck to him at lightning speeds and hoped nobody noticed your eyes bulging out of your head. Why on earth was he not playing along?! Forget being civil with Atsumu, you were about to strangle him infront of the entire PTA committee. All the while, he was cheerful as always.

“That’s great to hear!” Hitomi exclaimed. “Since we’ll be seeing you more often, what’s your name?”

Oh, absolutely not. If the rumor mill caught ahold of any information about Atsumu, they would be done for. Atsumu opened his mouth to respond but the door to the classrooms opened.

“Oh, the kids are done class!” You interjected loudly.

Thankfully, Haru and the rest of his class were released from their classroom and into the lobby to be picked up. Haru immediately beelined into your waiting arms and Hitomi was approached by her own daughter, interrupting the conversation.

“We’re actually in a rush now, so we’ll have to be going,” you apologized, and didn’t even wait for Hitomi to respond as you grabbed onto Haru’s hand, and grabbed onto Atsumu’s sleeve to drag them away to the front desk to sign out Haru as quickly as possible. You practically ran out of the building with both of them in tow, ignoring the many confused stares.

You collected yourselves outside on a secluded part of the street, and you almost collapsed in relief. God knows what would have happened if word got out that Miya Atsumu, of all people, was suddenly picking up your toddler.

“Mama, what’s Mister ‘Tsumu doing here?” Haru asked beside you. You were surprised Haru could recognize him with half his face and hair covered.

“How’d ya know it was me?” Atsumu chuckled, leaning down to Haru’s height and pulling down his mask to his chin.

“Only you have that weird colored hair, mister.”

Your hand immediately flew up to your face to hide your mouth as Atsumu’s face fell. A few tufts of blonde hair stuck out from the hat, seemingly giving him away.

“And mama’s only friends are you and Aunt Naomi, so–”

Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to snort as you pinched your son’s cheek softly. He whined in protest.

“Okay, that’s enough out of you,” you scolded him before turning to Atsumu. “And you, were you trying to give yourself away to the entire lobby? Hitomi’s probably gone off and told the entire neighborhood about my new coworker by now.”

You remembered the time one of the preschool moms caught you at a work dinner and assumed you were out on a date. By the next morning, the entire lobby was telling you how happy they were to ‘finally see you with a man.’

“Well, I am goin’ to be here more often now.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “So may as well tell ‘em.”

“And were you planning on telling them who you were?” You questioned raising an eyebrow, remembering how he almost answered Hitomi when she asked for his name. “What would you have done if they found out who you really were?”

Haru held onto your leg beside you as he quietly observed your conversation, probably confused on what you two could be bickering about.

He thought for a moment before his shoulders slumped. “I guess ya have a point… My coach did tell me to keep quiet for now.” So he did end up telling his coaches.

“I get that it’s important to keep my identity and all, but I guess I was just got excited about being able to be there for Haru,” he murmured. You sighed, while it was a stupid move, he did seemingly have good intentions. You probably shouldn’t have been so hard on him.

“Mama, you still haven’t told me why Mister Atsumu is here,” Haru frowned in confusion from beside you. You looked down, realizing you still hadn’t answered him. You looked back at Atsumu, still looking dejected.

“He’s here to hang out with us today,” you answered, patting his head. “And he’ll actually be coming to pick you up more often too.”

“Really?” Haru exclaimed excitedly. Atsumu looked back up, suddenly cheering up with a grin. Atsumu almost reminded you of a puppy with how quickly he could perk up after being discouraged.

“C’mon, we’re even going to go home in Mr. Atsumu’s car,” you said, leaning down beside him. “Atsumu, do you wanna show Haru the way?”

“Yeah!” He replied, almost too excitedly as he offered Haru his hand to take, his glumness now forgotten. You smiled warmly as you watched Haru accept his hand, before Atsumu led him to the car.

“Haru, take off your shoes first!” You scolded the young boy as you entered your apartment. Haru, still clad in his school uniform, hurriedly tugged off his small sneakers, and immediately bounded off to the living room to catch the afternoon airing of his favorite cartoon he frequently watched after a long day of school.

“What do ya do now that Haru’s back from school?” Atsumu asked from behind you as you took off your own shoes.

“Well,” you tapped your chin. You figured it was a good start for Atsumu to know what Haru’s schedule was like. “Usually after school, I make him some lunch and he gets to have some TV time, and he usually likes watching either cartoons or volleyball.” Atsumu grinned at the second option.

“Then he does his homework, gets some free-time before dinner, then he’ll get ready for bed.”

“Since he needs to eat lunch, can I help ya?” Atsumu offered.

“Sure, I think I have the ingredients for some of his favorite noodles.”

Truthfully, Atsumu probably shouldn’t have offered. He didn’t have the heart to tell you he was an absolute shit cook, but he was desperate to help in any way he could. But how hard could it be?

Apparently, very hard.

He had cut his finger about five times now cutting a single carrot, had oil pop onto said cut, and burnt the noodles the second you handed him the pan.

Damn Osamu for taking all the cooking genetics in the womb! He cursed silently. He recalled all of his mother’s and Osamu’s fruitless cooking lessons, which all ended in failure. When he had moved out by himself to Osaka and had to feed himself, he solely relied on Osamu, takeout, or instant ramen. He was just thankful you were able to salvage the meal so that Haru miraculously had something to eat that wasn’t burnt to a crisp.

He moped quietly in the corner of the kitchen, holding onto his injured finger that was throbbing from pain, and his hands were already sore from the exhaustive setting practice he did earlier. If he was alone, he’d be waving around his battered hand and cursing up a storm.

“Let me see,” you beckoned him over. He surrendered his hand over to you in shame as you inspected his cuts and burn.

“Haru!” You called out to the boy in the living room. “Go grab the first aid kit from the bathroom, please!”

His cheeks burned in pure embarrassment. He felt like the toddler in this situation, much less a parent.

Haru, ever the responsible child, immediately got out the first aid kit upon your request. You went to grab a few bandaids and burn treatment for Atsumu to put on, but Haru tugged at Atsumu’s pants leg.

“I wanna do it!” Haru exclaimed. Atsumu realized he was referring to the bandage you were about to hand Atsumu. He looked over to you for permission before you nodded, agreeing that it was okay.

Atsumu chuckled. “‘Course, bud.”

“C’mere, I’ll show you what to do,” you told Haru, before carefully instructing him what to do with the bandaid and ointment. Now, a four year old was taking care of him by bandaging his hand. It’s laughable really, a kid, his own child at that, was able to take care of Atsumu before he could take care of him.

“All better!” Haru chirped, showing Atsumu the zoo-themed bandaids now clad on his fingers and palm.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Haru,” Atsumu sighed, rubbing over the plaster on his fingertips. “It seems I’m not a very good cook.”

“‘Tis okay,” Haru responded with a cheery smile that Atsumu thought was all too similar to yours. “I’ll still eat it!”

You ushered Haru to take his food and eat lunch, while Atsumu was still sulking in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at Atsumu, he was really like a whimpering puppy.

“Don’t worry, he thinks the food is delicious.”

“Yeah, but that’s because ya fixed it,” Atsumu frowned.

You noticed he was still rubbing a hand over his burnt one, so you clasped onto his to still his anxious fidgeting.

“Haru’s not your Michelin-star brother, his taste palette is composed of dinosaur nuggets and jello. He’ll eat just about anything.” You chuckled, rubbing your hand reassuringly over his. He laughed, more so at himself than anything.

Something about being near you made him feel clumsy and nervous. While you were composed and self-assured, he was suddenly back to being the thick-headed teenager that he has desperately tried to outgrow. He wasn’t sure what happened to the polished and confident Miya Atsumu everyone knew, the one that he was so sure he’s been all this time. The star setter, the positive teammate, the Atsumu who knew what he was doing.

But he wasn’t. And it was now of all times that he needed to be that Atsumu.

The last time he felt like the shoes he were wearing were suddenly too big was when Osamu told him he wouldn’t be following him after graduation. Like then, the role he needed to fill was gaping, and it was eating him alive how he didn’t know how to be that. The guy everyone expected him to be, the Miya Atsumu everyone needed him to be, that he wanted to be.

“Y’know, one time I burnt all the cookies I made for his school bake sale,” you suddenly said.

“Huh?” He realized he had strayed too long in his thoughts.

“Haru had a big class bake sale that all the school moms were involved in,” you explained. “It was the first school event I had to work in, and I got assigned cookies. I thought it’d be a slice of cake. How hard could it be, y’know? But I was such a klutz and took a nap while they were baking. Guess I was exhausted from work. The smoke detector woke me up and our landlady was about to call the fire department.”

“Really?” Atsumu replied, a meak laugh escaping from him.

“Yup, and I didn’t have time to bake new ones so I thought I could pass off store-bought ones as homemade, but the other moms saw through my bullshit. Hitomi, the mom you met earlier, gave me an earful about it,” you snickered before looking back at him, still rubbing the pad of your thumb over the bandage across his palm.

“It’s all a learning curve, you get better at it with time. So don’t beat yourself up just because you messed up the first time, alright?”

Atsumu let out a faint chuckle before nodding. The thought of you in the same position as him reassured him somewhat. Of course he didn’t enjoy the thought of you with bandaids all over your hands like himself, but the thought that you could struggle as much as him, while still having the experience of parenthood makes him feel a little better about his lack of cooking skill. He would get it next time.

He looked back down and realized your hand was still on top of his and the blood rushed to his face embarrassingly fast. You noticed his obviously flustered expression, and jerked your hand away.

“Sorry about that–” You stammered quickly.

A string of curses slung through Atsumu’s head. He should’ve been the embarrassed one here.

“No, no, it’s alright!--” Idiot, idiot. The lingering feeling of your hand resting on his made him absentmindedly clench his hand. He tried to fight back the heat still remaining his cheeks. Why on earth was he acting like it was the first time a girl touched his hand? Maybe he was still like a stupid teenager in more ways than one.

Suddenly, your phone was buzzing on the countertop. You turned over to grab it as Atsumu caught his breath.

“Ah, it’s my boss, I should probably take this.”

Atsumu nodded. “I’ll let ya have some quiet.”

Atsumu left the kitchen so you could take your phone call in private, and noticed Haru was just about done with his food at the dining table. His head perked up noticing Atsumu come in.

“Hey mister, why are you hanging out with me and mama today?” Haru suddenly asked through a mouthful of food. “You bored with volleyball or something?”

You and Atsumu hadn’t had the chance to properly explain why he was suddenly spending more time with you both, probably because you weren’t sure how to properly explain it in the first place. Haru’s curiosity was understandable though, it wasn’t exactly ordinary that the athlete he watched on television was suddenly meandering in their apartment.

Atsumu took a seat at the table. “I guess ya could say I’m yer mom’s friend.”

That explanation would do for now, he hoped. Thankfully, it seemed like it sufficed enough for Haru as he nodded. For a four year old, he didn’t need to question the logic behind the situation.

“Okay, then do you wanna watch TV with me?” Haru asked, suddenly changing the topic.

“Sure, what do ya wanna watch?”

Haru hummed in thought, before a lightbulb went off in Atsumu’s head. You had mentioned before that Haru enjoyed volleyball, this could be a perfect bonding opportunity for him. He imagined all the cool facts and conversations they could have about the sport, maybe even Haru and him could play the sport together–

“Haru, do ya wanna watch volleyball?” Atsumu asked the child, sitting beside him at the kitchen table.

Haru took a final bite of his food.

“Nah,” Haru replied. “I wanna watch basketball.”

It was as if the blood in Atsumu’s body ran ice cold and a crack racketed through his heart. Surely what he was hearing wasn’t true.

Atsumu clutched his chest in offense before almost shrieking. “Basketball?!”

“Yeah,” Haru nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“B-But,” Atsumu stammered, feeling a bit of his soul trinkle out of his body. “What’s so good about basketball?! Volleyball’s so much cooler!”

“I started playing it during recess, and it’s so much fun!” Haru grinned, finishing the food on his plate. Before Atsumu could protest, he hopped out of his seat and headed off for the living room. Atsumu knew parenting was going to be hard, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

Atsumu followed Haru to the couch, verbally protesting the idea, but it didn’t stop Haru from grabbing the remote and turning it on to a sports channel playing the dreaded sport. Atsumu sat stiffly on the couch, accepting that he would just have to come to terms with the fact that his son hated him. Okay, he was being a little dramatic, but still! This was the utmost betrayal in his book.

“Slam dunks are so cool,” Haru cooed at the screen.

“Yeah, but service aces are alot cooler.”

For the duration of the game on television, whenever Haru would comment on the game, Atsumu was sure to follow with his own rebuttal about how volleyball was clearly the superior sport. Though, Haru didn’t pay him much mind. Atsumu was relieved when Haru finally decided to turn off the TV, finally putting an end to his impromptu torture (once again, being dramatic). He wondered how you managed to do this everyday and not be at your wits end.

Haru hopped off the couch and went to collect his backpack off the nearby table. Damn, Atsumu thought, he didn’t have to be told to do his homework. Haru must have picked that up from you, because it definitely wasn’t from him. He vaguely remembered almost having to repeat kindergarten had his mother not convinced his teachers otherwise. Mrs. Takahashi did not hold a special place in his heart. She definitely liked Osamu more than him.

“What’s yer homework, bud?” Atsumu asked, looking over the boy’s shoulder as he sat down at the coffee table with his work.

“I have an art project,” Haru explained as he unpacked his crayons. “I have to draw my family.”

Haru suddenly stuck a piece of paper infront of him, and Atsumu blinked in surprise.

“Draw with me!” He requested with a toothy smile. Why not? Atsumu shrugged before accepting the paper. Anything was better than having to watch basketball.

Atsumu was reminded that he was certainly not an artist. But he was surely better at drawing than he was at cooking. He drew something vaguely similar to a tiger– reminiscent of the stuffed toy sitting across from him on the couch, but it came out something more like a balloon animal. Next to Haru’s paper, they both were similar in children-like quality.

“Done!” Haru announced before presenting his paper to Atsumu. It was a typical kindergartener’s drawing, with colorful squiggly lines and a smiley faced sun adorned in the corner.

“This is me and mama,” Haru explained, pointing to two stick figures with bright big smiley faces. “This is Aunt Mimi, and I put you mister!”

“What? How come?” Haru considered him a part of his family? Already?

“You said you’re mama’s friend,” he stated simply. For a four year old, it was all the reason he needed. Atsumu looked down at the photo, a smile creeping on his mouth, even if Haru chose to color his hair with a too-bright yellow crayon.

“Sorry, sorry!” You exclaimed, returning to the living room to find Haru and Atsumu sitting cross-legged at the coffee table. “My boss never knows when to stop talking, I swear.”

“That’s alright, look at what Haru drew!” Atsumu beamed, gesturing to the drawing on the table.

You walked over to inspect the colorful drawing and snorted. “Is that supposed to be you there?”

“Yup,” Atsumu grinned bashfully. He was practically giddy with excitement.

“Your hair is the same color as the sun,” you giggled pointing at the neon yellow sun in the corner of the page.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You couldn’t help but grin at how gleefully Atsumu was beaming at the drawing.

“Could I have this?” Atsumu asked, looking at Haru.

“No, it’s my homework!” Haru retorted, frowning. “I’ll get in trouble.”

You could tell Atsumu was about to give one of his infamous pouting faces that you were starting to grow accustomed to.

“But I could draw you another one,” Haru replied, going to grab another piece of paper.

“I’d like that very much.”

As Haru got to work on another drawing for Atsumu, you both went back to sit at the dining table together.

“How would you say your first day of parenting went?” You asked, across from Atsumu.

“I don’t think I’ll ever recover from Haru asking me to watch basketball over volleyball,” Atsumu scoffed. “Do you think he’s already goin’ through his rebellious phase?”

“It’s not the end of the world,” you snorted. Atsumu seemed practically miserable at the idea that Haru preferred the rival sport. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Haru declared he wanted to pursue any other activity other than volleyball at school. Knowing Atsumu, he would probably collapse at the idea.

“Ah, I didn’t realize how late it was gettin’,” Atsumu said, looking at the time on the clock on the wall.

“Yeah, I’ll have to get dinner started and Haru to bed soon,” you nodded, the day having flown by before you could even realize.

“I’ll get goin’ then,” Atsumu said, getting up from the table. “But I hope we can do this again soon?”

“Of course, I’d love it if you came around more often.” you replied and Atsumu’s eyes widened.

“Really?” He replied.

“Haru would too! I can already tell he likes being around you–” You quickly added, realizing that you probably seemed too eager for Atsumu to visit again. But it didn’t seem like he minded at all.

“I hope so,” Atsumu chuckled, going to collect his things. “Even if it seems like he doesn’t like my job.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you called over Haru to say goodbye, and the toddler came to the door with a paper scrunched in his hands.

“I drew you!” He announced proudly, presenting Atsumu the picture he had drawn for him. Once again, you noticed he had used the brightest yellow crayon he had in his box to color his hair.

“Thanks, Haru,” Atsumu grinned, going to ruffle his hair and take the picture from him. “I’ll put it on my fridge as soon as I get home.”

He turned back to you, the picture held carefully in his zoo-bandaged hands. It’s adorable, really.

“I’ll see ya around soon, alright?” Atsumu said with a toothy grin.

“Alright,” you replied, your tone softer than you intended.

Haru and you waved goodbye as you watched Atsumu head out of the apartment and down the hallway. Once he was in the privacy of the elevator, he pressed the drawing against his chest, where his heart was busy welling.

“I’d love it if you came around more often, huh?” He chuckled to himself. He didn't admit to himself he thought about the comment all the way home.

* a little joke at how y/n didn't recognize osamu somehow LMAO, excuse the little logic behind it, it was for plot convenience :)

reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciates! :)

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chaeesposts · 1 year ago

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like don’t you get it? by hunting ghosts you become a part of them. a presence that lingers. the memories you are making here right now is also what will survive of this place. it’s also what will haunt it.

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chaeesposts · 1 year ago

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PLSS THIS IS SO 😫😫😫

Passengers

[America x reader] 02

Wordcount: 4, 278

Rating: M for mature themes

Disclaimer: This is a crossover with the film Passengers (2016). I do not own the plot.

The reader is referred to as she/her.

Alfred ambled through the grand concourse with his head hanging like a scolded dog. And his lips, pursed in a deep frown. With all his focus on his feet, he managed to walk right past the ship’s bar, which was miraculously open in his time of need. And he would’ve kept walking if it weren’t for the human figure in the corner of his vision--wait a second.

He stopped abruptly, feet skidding against the floor, then paced back a few steps. His eyes went wide to take in what he saw, or what he thought he saw, and sure enough, there was a bartender polishing a glass!

“Oh, man!” Alfred gasped, running to him with glee. The other smiled curtly, welcoming their guest into their kingdom. A classy jazz bar. “It’s so good to see another face! I thought I was the only one awake.”

“Who wants to sleep on a beautiful day like this?”

He had short, choppy blonde hair, a roundish face, and bright green eyes. If his accent didn’t give it away, those features certainly did. There was always something about the British he could pinpoint off the bat. Either way, he felt strangely at ease, taken by the charm of the staff and the establishment alike.

Bottles of all the liquor you could possibly want were stacked neatly on shelves, and behind them was a glowing panel of white marble. The rest of the interior was space gray with gold accents, and one wall was dedicated entirely to a mural of a spaceship.

“No, I mean we’re in trouble,” He slowed down as he got to the counter. “We’re not supposed to be here.”

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Huh?”

“Our little secret.” The bartender put down the glass he’d been polishing ceaselessly for the past minute. Then, he placed both hands on the counter invitingly, beaming at the man. “What can I get for you?”

“What?”

“You look like a whiskey man.”

“Uh, okay?” He finally gave in to their relentless hospitality, but the decision never had him backtracking so fast. His only other companion, a stranger, moved to another side of the bar without taking a single step, or more accurately put, whirred, almost like he was attached to the ground. Alfred ran forward and slammed his hands on the counter with next to no grace, then peered over it. Just as he suspected, a metal rod was going up the guy’s ass. And so, he slid onto one of the barstools with the most disappointed glower. “Oh. You’re a robot.”

“Android, technically.” They corrected, filling a glass with brownish-orange liquid. “Arthur’s the name.”

“Alfred,” He took the cup, raising it briefly as a gesture of thanks. Giving that a longer sip than he would have, he leaned back and thought for a bit. The spaced-out look in his eyes never left as he popped the question, which captured the bane of his existence. “How much do you know about this ship?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur blinked inquisitively, glancing up, then down at him again. “I know some things.”

“What do I do if my hibernation pod malfunctions?”

“Oh, hibernation pods are fail-safe,” The man smiled assuringly. “They never malfunction.”

“Well, I woke up early.” Alfred countered.

“Can’t happen,” He picked up another glass and polished it, just as he did the second he got here.

“How long until we get to Homestead II?”

“About 90 years or so.”

“And when are all the passengers supposed to wake up?” Alfred smiled tightly, feigning curiosity.

“Not till the last four months.”

“How is it that I’m sitting here with you, with ninety years to go?” He spoke slowly like he would with a child. There, he watched the other’s reality, lines and lines of delicate code, shatter like glass. Arthur stared at him blankly, expression frozen with perpetual friendliness. Then, he glitched once, his face jolting a fraction of an inch before carrying on like normal.

“Ah. It’s not possible for you to be here.”

“Well, I am.” He grumbled, slamming his cup down.

The next morning, Alfred awoke to the Homestead radio. As he lay in a fetal position, that perky Atlantic accent filled his ear. Was it going to be like this every day from now on? He threw his pillow over his head and held it there, groaning as--“it’s a beautiful day here on the Avalon. So wake up, sunshine!”

He hit the cafeteria, watching the ceiling light up at his arrival, panel by panel. A white room stretched on ceaselessly before him, and it looked more sterile than a hospital. Not exactly the homey vibe he was going after, but food was food. He approached one of the unmanned vendors, hexagonal dispensers designed to serve six at a time, and scanned his ID.

“Please make a selection.”

He pressed the first widget, an icon with a mug.

“Sorry. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme is reserved for gold-class passengers.” It spoke, prompting him to press it again. “Sorry. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme is reserved for gold-class passengers.”

“I want the Mocha Cappuccino Extreme. Bill my room please,” Alfred spoke firmly.

“Food can be purchased in the ship’s…”

He pressed another widget.

“Sorry. The French Roast…”

Then another.

“Sorry. The Pumpkin Spice…”

And another and another until he went down the list.

“Sorry. The Vanilla Chai… Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.” His face scrunched up in irritation as he began punching each widget, all giving the same response until he got to the very last option. “Large Coffee.”

“Cream, sugar—” He said loudly.

“Please enjoy your coffee.”

A cup of black coffee was dispensed before him.

“Oh, really?” Alfred scoffed.

He sorted through a shelf of manuals, and sure enough, he came across one for hibernation pods. Taking that with him, he made a quick journey to the storage facility to retrieve some tools. Now, all he had to do was fix his sleeper and be well on his way ninety years in the future like he was supposed to.

Dropping his heavy duffel of knick-knacks in front of his pod, he got on his knees to open up the disk slot. He connected the wiring for a quick spark and fizz, causing the machine to power up again. The screen lit up, showing his diagnostics, and so did the inside of the pod. A huge smile broke out across his face as he rose to his feet, hopped inside, and lay down.

The glass hatch closed around him.

He closed his eyes and shifted to get comfortable, happy as a lark. Only he didn’t fall asleep, let alone get close to cryosleep. Alfred opened his eyes, stone-faced. This wasn’t going to work, was it?

Now, to get out of this thing.

He pushed the hatch in different places, but it didn’t budge in any of them. Panic shot through him as he came to the realization he had trapped himself in what was slowly turning into a hotbox. He didn’t hesitate to start banging frantically on the glass with his fist, even kneeing it in multiple places to set himself free.

Once the hatch opened, he shot up, hyperventilating.

Alfred tried the command ring, next. Dropping his bag of tools in front of the heavy, metal door, he began his work. He’d hack at it with a sledgehammer, and when that didn’t work, he’d try cutting through it. Holding a welding mask over his face, he turned on an industrial laser cutter and let it do its thing.

Sparks flew, but he barely made a scratch.

He lowered his mask, revealing his sunken eyes and unshaven face. After weeks of unleashing hell on the door, it stood firm, a badge of his failures and reminder that he was never getting off this ship alive. Only that begged the question, what would he do if he did manage to break through this tonne of steel?

Wake up someone else to help him?

He would be a fish out of water, having jumped so desperately to get out of a pond with no thought of what to do once he got to land. Yet, he persisted, fearing the worse if he ever decided to give up.

More errors popped up on the ship’s diagnostics.

Just after he left the elevator to the grand concourse, the whole thing went haywire. The doors slammed together, opening, closing, opening, and closing. Even the lights started to flash on and off. He stared back at it, gravely unsettled, watching it spazz out.

“G-Ground concourse. Going down. P-Please make.”

Looks like he wasn’t the only thing breaking down.

“I’m screwed, Arthur,” Alfred uttered hoarsely at the man, eyes red and irritated. With nowhere to be and nothing to do, he found himself in the bar again, as did all. “Completely and ridiculously screwed.”

“Come on, now.” Arthur chided, polishing the inside of a glass. “Every cloud has its silver lining.”

Alfred tilted his head as if to go, fair enough.

“Guess I am gonna die of old age on this ship.”

“Oh, we all die,” The other said as-a-matter-of-factly. “Even androids end up on the scrap heap.”

He scoffed through his nose, swallowing another gulp of his whiskey. Like he’d understand how that felt. A few moments of comfortable silence droned on between the bartender and their patron, one of which, kept scrubbing around the outside of a cup.

“I’m your only customer. Why are you always polishing a glass?” He asked, brows furrowed.

“Trick of the trade. Makes people nervous when the bartender just stands there.” Arthur explained.

“So lay some bartender wisdom on me,” He placed his drink on the counter. “I’m lost in space, here.”

The android came over in an instant, his movement letting out a soft mechanical whir. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, piecing together his next few sentences as carefully as he could for the troubled man. And this was the best he could come up with.

“You’re not where you want to be. You feel like you’re supposed to be… Somewhere else,” He spoke.

Alfred raised his brows and snorted--yeah, no shit. But his amused expression quickly fell away for a serious one. He had to humor the guy, at least.

“You said it.” He nodded with a squint.

“Say you could snap your fingers and be wherever you wanted to be. I bet you’d still feel this way,” Arthur continued, getting him to lower his gaze in thought. “Not in the right place. Point is, you can’t get so hung up on where you’d rather be, that you forget how to make the most of where you are!”

“What are you telling me?”

“Take a break from worrying about what you can’t control,” The other glanced up from the things in his hands. Then, with the most subtle, yet, suggestive smile, he added this in a whisper. “Live a little.”

“Live a little,” Alfred whispered, spacing out as the words repeated in his head like a tape. The next thing he knew, he was breaking into the most luxurious accommodation the ship had to offer. He wedged a crowbar between a double door and pried it open.

He gritted his teeth and strained for a good few seconds before it slid apart. What was inside didn’t impress him at first, a room shrouded in darkness, but he was blown away when he stepped inside. What slowly lit up before him was a palatial suite fully furnished with modern homeware and decor.

“Welcome to the Vienna Suite.”

“Oh, yeah!” He laughed breathily. Alfred walked in with his head tilted back to take it all in--the highest ceilings he’d ever seen, and white stairs that folded one after the other like a fan. It led to a mezzanine, the designated sleeping space with a double bed. Adjacent to that was a panoramic screen displaying an image of an American forest, shrouded in a mist.

He ran upstairs to check it out, going past these golden, hexagonal honeycomb lights on the wall.

“What?” He exclaimed in amazement.

Flopping onto the mattress, he rolled onto his back with the biggest grin. This ship had been holding out on him, a lowly second-class passenger, but he was about to enjoy every spoil until he got sick of them.

He just never imagined how sick.

He dribbled a basketball across the floor, jumped up, and tossed it into the hoop. A horn sounded, and an electric blue wave of pixels went around the walls. While he celebrated his point with a fist pump, neon pink silhouettes of cheerleaders danced around him, throwing up their pom poms and chanting his name.

Alfred stopped by the restaurants next.

“Make that double jumbo shrimp--triple.”

“あいがとうございます,” The robot waiter took the menu and left to the kitchen, leaving him to his own devices. He picked up a pair of chopsticks and nicked at the holographic koi fish that swam above his table. He watched them scatter, much to his amusement.

“Dance off,” He grimaced, folding his arms at the 3D game character across him.

They busted a move, and Alfred copied them with the most concentrated look, lips puckered in an ‘O’. He swung his arms and spun on the spot, only for him to lose all his points. The character made a face and shook their head, giving him a thumbs-down.

“I did exactly what you just did!” He exasperated.

His short stubble turned into an unkempt beard.

“Uno más margerita, por favor.” Alfred requested in a funny voice, finger up. How he was still conscious after that many drinks was beyond him, but it had to be the huge enchilada that buffered the alcohol.

“You have had many, señor.” The robot waiter said.

“Oh, Hector, por favor, otra vez!”

“Sí, señor.”

He leaned over and followed it with his gaze.

“Gracias,” He called in his normal voice.

Alfred was back on the basketball court. His hair had grown around his ears, the dry, sandy blonde frizz making him look nothing short of homeless. After he managed to toss the ball into the hoop one more time, he didn’t react to the avid cheers around him. He kept a poker face, exhausted by the repetitive lifestyle of indulgence he’d been cycling through.

When the ball rolled back, he picked it up, turned around, then dropkicked it into the distance.

In the end, there was still a finite number of things to do even on the Avalon, and nowhere near enough to burn a lifetime here. Alfred was losing his mind to boredom, and, eventually, despair. He’d feed the ship’s vacuum bots breakfast, tossing them soggy cereal bits. He’d order ridiculous amounts of takeout, then sleep in a nest of takeaway boxes. He’d walk the hallways buck naked with his crumpled shirt in hand.

With nothing to do, and nobody to talk to, he was trapped forever in a state of limbo. His existence was all but internalized. The only reality he’d ever know was his mind, and this steel ship, a thousand meters long--the former of which, had finally come apart. Because no matter how hard he tried to stray from his fate, he always found himself in the pod room.

As he wandered down the aisles, watching each and every passenger sleep with a peace he’d never know, his heart festered with sadness, envy, and, eventually, poisonous anger for what his life had become, or failed to. He tossed an empty vodka bottle as far as he could, letting out a guttural yell. And to think he came here with more excitement than anybody had for the Avalon. A ship of dreams, now all but dead.

He opened a door attached to the pod room.

“Welcome, Alfred.”

He arrived in another room with metal flooring and walls. There were these clunky, navy space suits standing in the center, for what he assumed to be the spacewalking attraction he heard about. But that wasn’t what piqued his interest. He approached one of the suits and pressed his head to the chest, and for just a few seconds, he’d pretend it was a person.

“Please turn your attention to the screens displaying safety tips. These spacesuits are designed to withstand the harsh environment of space. The carbon fiber and polyamide construction means your suit is both flexible and durable. The suit will…”

He even held onto the gloves, the closest he’d get to holding someone else’s hands again.

“Remember, your space suit is your lifeline.”

He clicked a big green button on the control panel, getting one of the suits to spin to him. Giving that a thoughtful gaze, he walked over and took it off the mannequin. After putting on the suit, he entered the airlock, a silvery chute that led to the great outdoors.

“Slide the handle on the right to release the air pressure,” The voice spoke, turning his head to said handle. He slid the protective casing down, feeling a sucking on his feet. “your magnetic boots are now engaged. Press the red button to open the airlock door.” And press it he did, watching the chute open.

The air around him got sucked out as he stood firm. Out there was the vast sea of space. A pool of stars, cosmic dust, and distant planets he’d never know. Interstellar travel had been common for decades now, the universe outside the solar system made accessible to the human race, but he still gazed up at the stars with the same wonder as people did back in sixty-nine. When they first put man on the moon, one tiny step for man, one giant leap for mankind. Fuck. He’d never get tired of repeating that quote, accent and all--just like he’d never let himself get indifferent to space. The endless beauty and horror of it, the trifling insignificance he posed to the universe.

These truths lay bare in front of him as he floated in his suit, surrounded by a star-speckled abyss in all directions. He was overwhelmed by the power of it, so much so that he started crying. He always had been, he just never imagined it would be like this.

Terrifying, lonely, and at the mercy of Mother Nature.

He returned to the ship, looking like Hell.

What he experienced gave him a lot to think about. The bigger picture, the ultimatum. He really was going to spend the rest of his life here, or whatever was left of it. He froze, having a thought occur to him he never would’ve entertained outside of these circumstances. He didn’t have to suffer for another twenty, thirty years. He could end it all, right here.

In the airlock, where he could get sucked out into space. The vacuum would hurl him out so far out, he’d never dream of returning. But that wasn’t as fast as he wanted it to be. Without his space suit, it would be instant. His lungs would collapse, he would swell up, then freeze to death--whichever came first.

And he was about to find out.

He stood in the airlock in nothing but his shirt and boxers. Then, he slid the safety handle, exposing the red button. As he reached for it, his eyes went as wide as he could get them. And his heart, racing out of his chest. His fingers barely grazed the top before he pulled away, having returned to his senses.

Then, he made a run for it, horrified by what he was about to do himself. And he kept running even in the pod room, desperate to get as far away from that thought as possible. In his delirium, he missed the vodka bottle rolling on the ground and slid on it.

Alfred fell on his back with a heavy thump.

He didn’t get up right away, but lay there, groaning from the pain. Once it subsided, he was met with another kind of pain, one that would last forever. After a year of being alone, he nearly took his life.

But the next second saw an upheaval to that.

When he got up, he saw a woman sleeping in her pod just across from him. He never would’ve given her the light of day a year ago, or at least, not in the right context. Like at a bar, two drinks in. Any man in their sound mind would’ve approached her then. She was young and attractive, just like a lot of the passengers here. One could only imagine what a man in their unsound mind would do, lost and alone for the rest of his days.

“(F/N),” He muttered, reading the name tag.

“Searching passenger profiles,” The computer said. Alfred leaned forward in his chair to scan the list for your name. Sure enough, there was only one of you. The lesser-known daughter of a Pulitzer-prize winning author, but eager to take on their mantle.

You appeared on the screen, awake and perky.

“My dad used to say, if you live an ordinary life, all you’ll have are ordinary stories. So, here I am.”

Alfred brought his cereal from the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” He pulled a chair next to you. Taking a seat beside your head, he turned on his tablet to watch your interview. He was finally having a meal with someone, even if that someone didn’t know that. And it was nicer than he remembered.

“We’re starting over in every way,” You shook your head at the weight of that statement. “I’ll have to figure out where to live, how to live, who my friends will be--it’s like the first day of school, if the school bus took a hundred and twenty years to get there.”

He laughed some, his throat hoarse from his daily rendezvous with his robot bartender. Regardless of where you were headed, you were still down to Earth, and your excitement for the unknown was refreshing.

It reminded him of how he used to be.

“Everything’s gonna be different to how we do things on Earth. But we’re still the same.”

Alfred purchased your book.

“We’d want to make something for ourselves, only we actually get to do it under blue skies.”

He opened the first page and started reading.

“This should be interesting,” He murmured, popping a grape in his mouth. Thus begun his little flirtation, his connection to another human being without ever having to talk to them. If only this could remain as such, a flirtation, but the deeper he plunged, the harder it would be to swim to the surface.

“Do you ever read something and feel like it’s written just for you?” Alfred asked, never tearing his gaze away from his tablet. This was the second book of yours he’d powered through, and the last.

You were new to the game but immensely talented, just the kind of customer the Homestead company wanted. But as a person? He could imagine himself being close to you. Whether that was a delusion fabricated out of loneliness, or a genuine feeling, that distinction didn’t matter anymore.

“I don’t do a lot of reading,” Arthur pondered.

“She’s good.”

“Who’s that?”

“(F/N).” He hummed.

“Ah. The sleeping girl.”

Alfred slid off his stool to pace around a bit. He blew his cheeks out as he came to this conclusion, as hard as it was for him to accept. And he relayed that well without saying a word, glowering at his friend.

“You know, I’m not saying the universe is evil, but it sure has a nasty sense of humor.” He muttered.

“How is that?” Arthur asked.

“You get to fly to another planet, but you’ll die along the way,” His eyes burned as he verbalized his sobering realities, his second one, even more so. “And you find this amazing girl right in front of you, but she’s completely out of reach.”

Even at nighttime, he found himself watching you. He liked the idea of having a conversation with you, just as he’d been pretending to these past several weeks. He liked the idea of you. Fantasizing was the closest he’d ever get to those desires, so he may as well knock himself out doing it--or was it?

When he put his cup down, his gaze went to the hibernation manual beside. And God forbid what ideas it gave him. His smile faded into an unsettled look, disturbed by the contents of his own mind.

He slammed the manual on the bar counter.

“Say you were trapped on a desert island, and you had the power to wish somebody there with you,” Alfred spoke restlessly like he’d lose his nerve the second he hesitated. “Then you wouldn’t be alone anymore. But you’d be stranding the person on the island. How do you… Would you make that wish?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been on an island.”

“Okay, yeah, well, er, forget the island,” He relented.

“Ah.” The android nodded.

“Let’s say you… Figured out how to do something…” He began cautiously one second, only to lose his composure in the next. “That would make your life a million times better, but you knew it was wrong, and there’s no taking it back. How do you do the math?”

“Alfred, these are not robot questions,” The other warned, getting the man to exhale deeply.

He’d been reasoning with himself the whole time, trying to find some sort of justification for what couldn’t be justified. That became all the apparent when his stare grew haunted as he admitted what had been on his mind since it first occurred to him.

“I know how to wake (F/N) up.”

Next chapter: coming soon

Tag list: @twilightlover2007, @my2phetaliaheadcanons, @chickenpecks, @sunnysssol

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