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youregonnagofaar · 2 years ago

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happy ending myth a steve harrington story

ch. 1 off the sidelines

chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

summary: steve never thought someone he had once ignored would come back into his life to fight the upside down. when you are 19 how can you even think of a future? but what if it didn't matter what the future held if you were in it? and yet he couldn’t help but think maybe this was the one who would be his partner on that cross-country family trip with six nuggets.

pairings: best friend!eddie munson, close friend!max mayfield, slowburn!steve harrington

a/n: this is going to be a slowburn and at least four parts. this is my first time writing as steve and i’m super excited. all of this was based off me listening to future holds by bastille. thank you to anyone who reads! i’m already working on part two.

warnings/tags: mild violence, curse words, mentions of drugs, drug use, two losers with childhood trauma because of bad parents

word count: 5,940

March 1986

It had been a long day of shelving books left astray from young students making sure they had read everything needed for the semester. A sigh of relief left your lips once walking through the entrance of your home sweet home. It was a cozy trailer littered with Jane Austen and Emily Dickinson on each table surface. Your black cat Bennett let out a loud yawn when he realized his owner was finally home. It wasn't much, but it felt like a lot after a 6-hour shift. Putting your bags down and changing into a pair of sweatpants and a white tank top, you made your way outside. You climbed on top of the roof and took out a joint that was gifted by Eddie Munson earlier in the week.

Forest Hills trailer park had been your home for as long as you could remember. With a father on the run from the law and a mother in rehab you fit in just fine, and the rent wasn't too bad. Your favorite place was the roof where each star and trailer home was visible. Lighting up the joint and stretching your legs out with a smile you settled by turning on an old walkman and letting the songs of Fleetwood Mac soothe all your aches and worries away. From the trailer's tin roof, it was easy to see your neighbors and often it was easy to get lost in what everyday life must be for each person who lived there. Max Mayfield lives right next door so every night you would make sure that the young girl was safe at home. The two of you had become close after she moved in. You both bonded over parents never being fully there even when they were around and how the world just felt so judgmental. It took some time for the young redhead to warm up to you, it was only after she found out that her older brother was dead and her stepfather left that the two of you began to easily bond. The two of you would talk about everything and it was only in those moments you felt truly loved. You'd often told Max that she was just like Elizabeth Bennett, a brave young woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

Turning your head to the side, a smirk grew on your lips while watching Eddie Munson leave his car with Chrissy Cunningham by his side. You graduated last year, the same year Eddie should’ve. Your introduction to the boy was when he found you reading behind Hawkins High. The day he became your friend, he also became your pot dealer. Chrissy was a cheerleader so the two of you had never really crossed paths. With a raised eyebrow you smirked and went back to looking at the stars with feet bouncing to the rhythm of “The Chain”. The song was almost over when his trailer lights began to flicker. Pausing the walkman you looked over to finally hear the panicked shouts that must’ve been happening for a minute or so. Shortly after it all stopped, Eddie shot out of the trailer and got into his car before you could even shout over to ask him what was wrong.

You made your way down back to the ground and walked slowly over to his trailer. Dread washed over your whole body. It filled your stomach and the feeling caused your head to hurt. With just a little push, the door opened and there lay a once happy cheerleader her face now contorted. Gasping you felt bile begin to rise from the depths of your stomach. The sight caused you to run out of the trailer, throwing up now the only option after what had just been witnessed. You knew what Chrissy had looked like...she was a beautiful girl who had a lovely smile, but the image of her lying on that carpet would haunt you forever. Running back to your trailer you weren’t sure what to do next. The cops were bastards and you smelt of weed. Those pigs would blame Eddie for all of this, but the idea of leaving her there made you feel queasy.

It took until morning for cops to surround the Munson trailer, the sight made you feel guilty. Deep down you knew Eddie couldn't have done any of this. He could barely hurt anyone and honestly didn’t have the strength to do such a thing. Hawkins was a dark place that was filled with weird lore as to why it had become that way. As the day wore on, the cops made sure no one was able to leave or enter the trailer park. They had asked you some questions, all of them answered vaguely. Something else was going on here and until you knew what it was, there was no way you were telling the cops anything. Throughout the morning you tried your best to get some rest but every time you closed your eyes visions of Chrissy's body would flash in horrible waves. So instead, you sat in front of the window with a cup of now cold coffee. Trying to figure out what the hell had gone on here and why a girl was dead.

A few hours later, you heard Max leave her trailer, in a rush you decided now was the time to get answers. Where was she going? Wasn't she friends with the group of kids who made their way out of the StarCourt Mall fire? Your mind filled with questions as you followed Max to what appeared to be a Family Video. She had now joined forces with who you assumed was Dustin, someone you had only heard about in passing. Max had once mentioned a curly haired boy who could talk for hours about the smallest topic. You waited for them to enter the video store. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that you needed some answers for the awful things you witnessed last night. After a few more deep breathing exercises you finally felt calm enough to enter the store. Your hands flexed as you saw Max talking to Robin Buckely, a girl that you had met in band class years ago. As you walked forward Steve Harrington had walked in from the back room causing you to take a step back.

Steve Harrington was last in your presence at graduation last year. He had been sulking as other students talked to their parents. That was the day you seemed to get a little more, why he was such a jerk to be around, because his parents hadn’t shown up. From experience you knew how awful this type of let down felt, so you walked up to him and said congratulations and got no reply. When Steve finally saw you he also had taken a step back. Robin had noticed the way you two were looking at each other making a face that snapped you back to reality.

"Max Mayfield, what is going on?" Your voice was stern but Max also noticed a weird sadness behind it all. She twirled around on the ball of her heels before finally facing you with wide eyes.

"Y/N! What are you doing here?" Her brows furrowed as she began to piece some of it together. "Wait, did you follow me here?!"

You couldn't look at her directly when she said that so instead you gave her a signal as if you needed to speak with her and only her. Max almost groaned in response until she saw the way you looked at her. You were terrified and she didn’t understand until you explained what you saw. This confession caused Max to tell you everything about weird ol’ Hawkins. Will Byers was actually taken, and the Russian infiltrated StarCourt Mall to open a portal, all of it, it made you feel dizzy and sick. You wanted to yell that you were right the whole time but the lack of sleep added with a rush of information caused your whole body to go limp.

This whole day was supposed to be normal for Steve Harrington, but, of course, it was nothing of the sort. The store had been so quiet before Max and Dustin showed up to explain why Eddie Munson was wanted for murdering a cheerleader. Then you walked in and he felt like he had seen you somewhere before but couldn’t place it. He scanned your face trying so hard to figure out who you were and why your name was on the back of his tongue. Then his co-worker elbowed him in the chest trying to get his focus back. Steve gave Robin a glare and it wasn’t until you had left to speak with Max that she spoke.

"Are you okay over there?" Robin's tone was hushed as she gave Steve a look with her furrowed brows.

“You know Y/N, she graduated last year, just like you.” He looked at Robin and then back at you and it finally hit him. You were the only person who spoke to him at graduation. He had been in such a terrible mood that day, his parents were supposed to be there but they had some last minute function. But you, you had been there and congratulated him despite no one else doing so. He began to feel warm and embarrassed, watching as you placed a hand on your hip as you spoke to Max.

“Shit!” Steve whispered, causing Robin to tilt her head.

“Dingus! You are doing that thing again where you are not actually speaking out loud just in your head! What is going on?”

Steve gave her a sad look and ran his fingers through his hair. As he placed his elbows on the glass counter he explained. “Graduation day she came up to me and was really nice about it.” He paused and sighed. “I didn’t reply the way I wished I had, my parents said they were going to be there and they just didn't show up. I was such an ass, Robin.”

Robin gave Steve a tiny pat on the back before turning to look in your direction. Whatever Max was telling you, it was a little too much and her eyes widened when she noticed you were about to fall. "Well, you could try and make it up to her by making sure she doesn’t land on the nasty carpet." Her eyebrows raised as she pointed to you and Steve quickly ran over to your side.

It was embarrassing the state you were in, lying there in Steve Harrington's arms. It did feel nice to be in such strong arms but you wished the circumstances had been better. "Uhh, thanks.." Max was holding in a snicker watching you in this position. She wasn't sure if it was due to Steve looking at you like you had hung the moon, or that he had run so fast to catch you. Either way, the young girl knew she was going to tease you about this later.

"You're welcome, Y/N? Right?" You nodded and smiled before getting back up on your feet to look at both Max and Steve.

"So let me see if I can get this straight." Your hands were now on your hips in a mom-like fashion as you eyed everyone in the room. "Will and Barb never went missing? They were both taken? I am guessing Barb didn't make it and Will did. The Starcourt mall was invaded by Russians who were trying to open some portal that someone named El already closed?" Each of them nodded their heads and it filled you with an awful feeling, you felt this before entering Eddie's trailer. "Okay…" You paused, rubbing your temples. "So whatever it is, it's back because I know Eddie didn't kill Chrissy. He could barely hurt a fly and also he had a huge crush on that girl."

"Exactly! Y/N gets it! I told you Eddie didn't do it!" Dustin was now pointing at Robin and Max who were now rolling their eyes.

Steve was still just looking at you with kind honey eyes that made your knees feel weak, or was it the lack of sleep? Everytime he looked at you he couldn’t help but feel guilty for the way he spoke to you last. This wasn’t the time to be thinking of any of this but when it got quiet it would rattle his brain.

"We have to find Eddie, that's why we came here. We need to see if there is any word of where he could've gone." Max was walking back up to Robin, swiftly making her way to the computer that was behind them all.

"I know where he is." All of a sudden everyone was staring at you. "He's with his drug dealer. Uh, Refer Rick is the name! I mean it's secluded and unless you were buying drugs it’s not a place many go." "Do you buy drugs off Eddie?" Max looked at you with her eyebrows furrowed causing you to shrug.

"I buy weed off him, that’s all…" You corrected with a big smile towards the redhead who was now judging your life choices. "Hey don't look at me like that!" This wasn't the time to scold you for smoking weed, Max would find time to do that when this was all over.

"Whatever, we just need to find the address! Maybe look up movies that only a stoner would rent!" Dustin was now at the computer shoving Max out the way. Max had been right; he was very impatient and a little jittery. She rolled her eyes and stood back as the boy began to type feverishly. "Here! Look at these! It has to be him!"

The older kids giggled at the titles being read out by the curly-haired boy who was easily annoyed with the reaction. Dustin and Max grabbed their bags and began to walk outside. Robin soon followed which left Steve and you alone as he closed up. Watching as you began to make your way, Steve had decided it was now or never. So he called your name causing you to look at him confused.

The two of you stood there just staring at each other. He wanted so badly to apologize but the words just wouldn’t come out. Since Robin wasn’t there to give him a nudge back to reality you decided to speak up first.

"So since when does Steve Harrington hang out with kids like Dustin and Max? Or even Robin, you would've never talked to her in school." You looked at him confused and he could tell you meant nothing bad by it. Steve shrugged his shoulders as he turned off all the lights.

"It just kinda happened." He made his way to the door to stand right next to you. "I'm not the same as I was in high school Y/N. I'm not King Steve anymore."

Shaking his head he tried to smile, knowing that you had no idea about all the events that shaped him since high school. The two of you were only a few inches apart and it caused heat to rise on the back of your arms. A tiny shade of pink covered your cheeks as you looked around at everything except for what was in front of you. Steve had noticed all of this, finding it adorable how you reacted to being so close to him. Making sure to move back just a little to make you more comfortable, he smiled.

"Good! I didn't like him that much anyway. He had great hair but was kinda a jerk."

You placed your hair behind your ear and you walked out to his car as he just stood there. He wanted to make you smile for the rest of your life if he could. Now you were wrapped into this chaos that was the Upside Down, it made him feel a weird ache in his chest. Locking the door to the video store he huffed out a sigh and made his way to the driver's seat. Steve knew that the reality you soon were to face was going to be filled with a lot of grief and sadness. He himself was plagued with nightmares, waking up in an awful sweat every night. His jaw still had phantom pains from when Russians tortured him. The thought of any of that happening to you made him tense.

Making his way to the car he laughed softly seeing you in the middle of Max and Dustin in the back. He promised to himself that he would get you in the front seat, but for now, he loved the current seating arrangement.

"Alright buckle up!" His voice was stern like your’s had been when seeing Max and it caused everyone but you to groan.

You giggled hearing such a tone leaving the boy before you. Each time he spoke to the kids, it became a bit clearer that King Steve really was a different person now. After a twenty minute drive, the car pulled into the Refer Rick’s driveway. Dustin had been ready to bolt out of the car once you pointed out the mailbox. The sun was now setting making the secluded home a little creepier than it needed to be. The group of you made your way to the front door and then Dustin began to ring the doorbell way too many times. Steve began to let the boy know no one was there as he started to pound on the door.

"Eddie, it's Dustin!" The young boy shouted as the rest of you began to look in the windows. He was now pleading with Eddie saying they were only there to help.

Shouts of "Refer Rick!" filled the air as everyone was still making their way around the outside of the home. All of you took cautious steps as Steve made tiny comments about how creepy this was andhow Dustin was being too loud. All of you let out a collective tired sigh, no one was here. Max stopped to shine her flashlight on a boat house shining on it as if it was a clue.

"Hey! You guys!" Max spoke as she began to walk a little closer. The group made their way near the sides of the shed, shining light into the windows to see if there was any movement. Everyone held their breath as Robin opened the door, her raspy voice filling the quiet darkness.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" No one answered. Nevertheless, you all made your way one by one into the inky boat house.

"What a dump," Steve said and you nudged him in the shoulder because although this was terrifying, this wasn't the time.

Every single step could be heard as you all walked around trying to see if Eddie was nearby. Maybe he was hiding, before you could peek under the tarp of the boat Steve began to hit at it.

"What are you doing?" Dustin whispered while you gave Steve a confused look.

"He might be in here!" Steve exclaimed as he continued to hit the tarp with a paddle.

You watched as Dustin and Steve began to fight as to who would lift the tarp. Max was already walking over to a makeshift desk that was littered with what appeared to be recent trash.

"Hey! Look over here!" You followed Max's voice and took your place next to Robin. "Someone was here."

"Maybe he heard us, got spooked and ran?" Robin questioned with her eyes still on the tiny pieces of the garage.

"Don't worry, Steve will get him with his oar!" Dustin joked. "I know you think you're being funny, Henderson, but considering almost everyone in this room has nearly died multiple times," your eyes grew wide at this comment but Steve kept going. "Personally, I don't find it funny in the slight-"

Steve didn't finish his sentence because Eddie had come up from his hiding spot and was now after him with a knife in hand. He was pushing Steve against the wall holding the knife up to his throat. Dustin and you began to yell for Eddie, pleading with him to put the knife down.

"Eddie! Stop!" You placed your hand near Steve's neck. "Look, it's me! Eddie, I know you didn't do this. We all know you didn't do this, please just relax."

"It's me, Eddie! This is Steve, he's not going to hurt you, right, Steve?"

Steve whispered "right" while hoping what you were doing was going to save him from his current position.

"Steve, how about you drop the oar?" Steve's eyes went wide as if to say how stupid that was since he was the one with a knife at his throat but Eddie shoved the knife closer to him.

Even so, the oar dropped and Eddie looked at you with anger on his face. "What are you doing here?"

"We are here for you," Dustin spoke up and then began to point out who each person was. "This is Robin, you know her from band. This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D."

Max waved as Dustin continued, "Eddie, we're on your side. I swear on my mother!" You all then began to agree and swear on Dustin's mother.

This seemed to work as after a short pause Eddie backed away from Steve, who was now swearing under his breath.

Eddie sighed and looked into your eyes. He was so scared so you lowered your voice to speak to him once more. Relaxing his body and looking at the ground you walked towards him. Dustin was by your side as you placed your hand on Eddie’s shoulder. You watched as his shoulders sunk down towards the floor as you got down to his eye level.

"I'm so sorry, Eddie. We just wanna know what happened." You spoke with a softness that your mother once told you bedtime stories with.

"You won't believe me." He shuddered and spoke with a tone that you had never heard from him before.

"Try us." Max was now right beside you as she spoke and with that Eddie nodded.

"Y/N, I swear I didn't kill her." Eddie looked at you like the time he broke your bike years ago.

You both were about twelve years old and you had given Eddie permission to take your bike out for the day. The boy went down a hill near the school and wrecked the whole thing. Back then you just helped him with the cleaning of a brush burn and forgave him but now the stakes were much higher. There was no wound for you to clean up, it was just this horrible feeling of dread. At that moment you lunged forward and held onto him as tightly as you could. Running your fingers through his black curly hair as tears fell down his face.

"I know, Eds, I know you didn't do this, I'm so sorry." You spoke softly into his ear doing your best to soothe his sorrows.

Steve had finally caught his breath just to feel it hitch back up at the sight of Eddie in your arms. You were whispering in the other boy's ear and he knew you were trying your best to help out. A pang of jealousy hit him at the worst time and Robin noticed. A smirk spread across her face as she watched Steve's expression turn into a confused sadness.

The boat house had once been filled with an anxiety that was now cleared for the sadness of Eddie's voice as he described what happened to Chrissy. It was only then that you were able to understand what you had seen that night. Chrissy had levitated above him as he dropped the box of drugs you had found on the floor. This was something you had made sure to pick up before the cops showed up. Everything was coming together as if pieces to a puzzle, all of it now making sense.

"I just ran away." His voice was filled with shame and sadness. Swearing it would haunt him for the rest of his life, regretting leaving Chrissy behind.

"We are going to clear your name Eddie, we just need time" Dustin reassured him with a pat on the back. "For now, we will be back and bring you some food and some supplies."

The conversation between all of them continued and that feeling of despair began to fill your body once more. A part of you didn't want to leave Eddie alone with his anxieties but another part of you needed rest. When Steve rounded up the group, you followed in a haze to his car, not even realizing that the rest of them had helped you into the front seat. Placing your head in your hands you began to see visions of Chrissy…how her face didn't even look like her anymore. How her arms and legs seemed to have been crumpled like paper. It all began to fill your head until you felt a tap on your shoulder. Startled, you looked up and saw Steve Harrington. His comforting eyes looked at you like you had never seen before.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to see if you were alright. This is a lot." His tone was soft as he spoke and it soothed your feelings of fear and sadness.

"Don't worry, you didn't scare me I just...I keep seeing her. I keep seeing her face and how she looked so scared. I keep hearing Eddie and how he sounded before he ran away." Steve placed his hand on your forearm and it was only then you really looked into his eyes.

"Y/N, it's okay. What you saw was terrible. I have seen some really bad shit but I don't think I've seen anything like Eddie saw. You are a good friend for helping us find him." You nodded your head as he spoke, suddenly feeling your eyes water.

Dustin, Max, and Robin all gave each other knowing looks watching as Steve did his best to comfort you. Max felt awful that you were now in this mess, feeling as if it was her fault because she began to enjoy being around you. Everything she touched seemed to die in her hands, so, of course, her new friend was now in danger. Robin couldn't help but notice that her best friend didn't always talk to people in such a reassuring manner as he did you. No one had gotten this treatment from him, except for maybe one person, Nancy Wheeler. Dustin's only thought was Eddie and how he prayed that his dungeon master would be safe where they left him. It appeared that the car was a bag of mixed emotions; the one thing they did share was uncertainty.

As the driver, Steve had already decided that you were the last to go home. That was when Max spoke up to say that you lived right next to her. He simply nodded and began to drive you two to Forest Hills. When pulling up Max tapped you on the shoulder.

"Y/N, I am going to go check on my mom if you need me you know where I am." You smiled at her thinking how funny that she is now worried for you.

For a while now it had been you making sure that the redhead was safe and sound. Now, she was the adult in the situation with far more experience than you could ever imagine. As she walked away, you looked around only now noticing that everyone was out of the car. Tears flowed down your cheeks as tiny hiccups escaped your lips. Looking at you, Steve felt hopeless because he knew that you were going to feel so much more sorrow. He knew he couldn't promise anything but he could be by your side. Wiping your tears away as he was doing now and letting you know it was okay to feel this way. As you continued to sob he turned his body to face you resting his elbows on the console in between.

"I'm sorry, Steve, I just haven't really felt any of this yet. I just have been going on autopilot since last night." As you spoke, he cupped your face in his big hands, wiping your last tears away and placed his hand for you to grab.

"Thank you for driving me home." Your voice trailed off as the realization that you now had to go home alone.

Being alone was something you usually cherished. The day that your mother had left for good to get into rehab was the first day you had felt the freedom of being by yourself. It was a quiet that made everything feel better but now the idea of being alone frightened you.

"Steve, could you stay the night? I just really don't want to be alone tonight. I haven't slept and…" Your voice trailed off. A smile crept on his lips as he watched you do your best to explain your feelings..

"Hey, Y/N, don't worry about it. Of course, I can stay."

You nodded as you wiped the rest of your tears off your cheeks before getting out of the car with weak knees. Steve watched almost running at the sight of your legs wobbling.

"I'm fine, just really tired." Your very first yawn now comes up as the two walk up to your trailer.

"Oh, I have a cat. I hope you aren't allergic." This fact was coming far too late as you opened the door, Bennett running up brushing himself on your leg.

"I'm sorry buddy! I know, I know you are hungry." The black cat meowed watching as you made your way to the pantry. "Do you want water or anything?" You spoke as you began to take out some glasses and a can of cat food.

"Sure, I'll take some water. I probably haven't really had enough of that today." The two of you giggled as you finished up with the cat food and began to fill the glasses with water.

Placing two ice cubes in the water, you made your way over to the wandering boy before you. A smile on your face as you watched him scan the books on the coffee table.

"Here you go. Did you need something comfy to change into? I have some Eddie's clothes around here somewhere. He's always leaving his shit around."

Steve was looking at the back of an old copy of Persuasion by Jane Austen, the sip of water he'd taken now landing back in the cup with a cough. "So you and Eddie, are you two really close?"

At this moment you had no idea what the root of this question was. Steve was very much jealous of the idea that Eddie was able to leave things at your place. His eyes locked on your’s as he placed the book back where it had been sitting before. His body now leaning against the side of the couch you smirked at the question.

"I've known Eddie for a long time. He was my first friend when I moved here with my parents. When they left, he was the one thing that stayed constant in my life, so I found comfort in that. He is like a brother to me." If you weren't in the room staring at him with your clear blue eyes, he would've let out a sigh of relief.

Instead, he kept all his cool and nodded his head as if to say cool, cool. His eyes following you as you made your way to the back room.

"I'm going to change because I can't stand being in these clothes for another day." A small laugh left your lips as you closed the door, only a slit of light showing as he tried his best not to look in that direction.

In a moment of weakness, he noticed your bare back was the only thing peeking through the crack as you changed into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt with Bruce Springsteen on it. Bennett was making eyes at the boy, not sure if he could trust this handsome stranger or not.

"Okay, so I have a ton of blankets and pillows to make your stay just a little bit more comfortable. Do you wanna sleep on the couch?" You were already pulling blankets out of what appeared to be a wicker basket. "Let me get some pillows from my room. I sleep with more than is needed." You smiled, causing him to place his hand on your forearm.

"I'm just fine, don't worry about it. Go get some rest, I'll see you in the morning. If you need me, I'll be here." Each time you felt his touch, it made parts of your brain just feel calmer.

No more need to babble on about blankets and pillows when he was right there with that smile on his face. It was at this moment that you knew you wanted to know everything there was to know about the new Steve Harrington. You nodded as he let go of your arm and began to settle into the couch.

"Alright, I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Steve." "Good night, Y/N."

Steve began to take off his shoes and jacket, placing them neatly near the lounge chair next to him. Lifting the blanket that you had placed on the couch and settling into the soft feeling of pillows. Next to him was that same book Persuasion by Jane Austen, from what he could tell it seemed to be some type of romance book. The picture of you curled up in the chair closest to him with the book in your lap made him close his eyes with a peaceful smile.

While Steve was out there painting images of you, you were lying in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as your brain couldn't stop thinking. It felt as if several voices were speaking at once about all different things. Flashes of Chrissy's face when you found her, Eddie's eyes as he pleaded with you all, and then Max as she spoke so surely of the horrors in Hawkins. All of it overcame you until you shot up and yelled for the only person around.

"Steve!" Your voice was shaky as you spoke.

"Y/N?" He had been half asleep until he heard you shout his name in the darkness. At first, he wasn't sure if he had actually fallen asleep and was dreaming but then you spoke again.

"Could you… umm… lay next to me?" Those words sent him on his feet in a fairly quick manner.

Before you could even explain he was already in the room with you. "Oh god, were you sleeping? I'm sorry." "Don't worry about it." As you opened the covers for him to slide the two of you smiled.

It only took a few minutes for you both to get comfortable and once you had the voices in your head became quiet. As both of you began to fall asleep his hand found yours and you gave it a tiny squeeze. A tiny hum of happiness was the last thing heard before drifting off. Despite all the uncertainty, Steve and you both felt a sense of calm, but the nightmares would come like they always did and tomorrow was still a new day of fighting monsters.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #happy ending myth series

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nothingbutimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Everything You Want (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Cursing, lots of fluff and cliches

Summary: When Y/n breaks up with her ex, she declares to her friends that she will never, by any means, fall in love again. To her surprise, Peter seems to take this as a challenge, trying to win her heart in a mere afternoon.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: I was on a bit of an unexpected hiatus, but I am here to stay. School and quarantine was kicking my ass and my family is moving halfway across the country so things have been very hectic around here. But, with Falcon and the Winter Solider and me rewatching all the Marvel movies to cope with this wack ass time, I am feeling inspired.

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

“That’s it!” You slammed your lunch tray down on the cafeteria table as you huffed and sat down beside MJ. “I’m done with men. I hate love. I’m over it.”

MJ looked over at you and sighed, rolling her eyes. She didn’t believe you, especially since the boy you’d broken up with was the boy you dated not even a week after swearing off men the last time.

“What are you talking about?” Ned asked before receiving a swift kick from MJ.

“Don’t ask about it.” The girl replied through gritted teeth as she fully turned on the bench to face you. “Y/n, you know I love you, but I can’t help but think you’re being a little rash.”

“Rash?” You scoffed. “You wanna talk about rash? MJ, you broke up with Ethan Brooks in eighth grade because he accidentally stepped on your foot at the winter formal.”

“I know you’re just being harsh because you’re heartbroken, but let’s be real, Y/n, you don’t hate love.”

“Yes, yes I do. I’m never, ever, ever going to fall in love. I’m not even going to think about it. I now will live in a world of tragedy and heartbreak because love does not exist.”

You stabbed your fork into your mac and cheese aggressively. Maybe MJ was right, you thought, you might have been being a little harsh and you were very heartbroken.

You had the unfortunate curse of being a romantic, loving the idea of love and anything having to do with a good rom-com. You couldn’t help but fall in love with everyone you’d ever had a romantic moment with. You just loved the experience that came with being in love.

However, now sitting heartbroken and eating your feelings in mac and cheese, you really really didn’t like the idea of falling in love and would have rather fallen off the face of the earth than like another boy.

MJ sighed heavily, reading your body language and knowing you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and watch a sad movie.

“Y/n, I know you’re sad, but look on the bright side, you have more time to hang out with us. We’re going to the movies after school today.”

You looked between your three friends, smiling shyly. “Thanks, guys, but I really just feel like being alone.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n.” Peter sighed, giving you a nudge with his foot. “I know you secretly want to pig out on popcorn and see that new horror movie.”

“I don’t think so, Peter. I really don’t feel good.”

Peter pouted, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please, Bug, come on. You blew me off last week to go out with Brad and we’re best friends. You owe me one.”

“I thought we were best friends.” Ned spoke up, earning another swift kick from Peter. “Ow! What is with you guys and abusing me?”

You smiled, rolling your eyes at your friends. Especially at Peter, who seemed serious enough to use the only face you couldn’t resist and a nickname that always seemed to keep your attention on him.

“I’ll think about it.” You caved, taking another bite of your food.

“Don’t think. Just say yes.”

“Are you seriously going to be pushy right now, Parker?” You raised a brow at him. “I am heartbroken. Sick with sadness.”

“I’m just saying, the best way to get over someone-”

“Is to get under someone.” Ned stated proudly, cutting Peter off.

“Ew, no!” Peter gave Ned a light shove. “I was going to say that the best way to get over someone is to be around people who care about you.”

“Or burning his personal belongings before he asks for them back.” MJ added, stealing a fork full of your mac and cheese. ��We could always burn Brad’s stuff and roast marshmallows over it.”

“I like MJ’s idea way better than going to the movies.” You agreed, pointing to the girl beside you while you locked eyes with Peter.

“We’re not going to burn his stuff!” Peter exclaimed as MJ frowned. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to burn someone else’s property and we already made plans to go to the movie.”

“Well, damn.” You frowned. “Now look who’s being harsh.”

MJ began to chuckle beside you as Peter began to frown.

“Harsh would be me forcing you to go to the movie.”

“Oh yeah, and badgering me to go isn’t forcing me right, Peter?” You raised a brow at him as you finished the last of your meal.

“At least I’m asking and not physically forcing you to go.”

“That is true.” You shrugged. “I guess I’ll come, but if I am having a terrible time, you have to take me home.”

“Always.” Peter smiled, nodding as he reached forward and grabbed your hand. “It’ll be fun, Bug. I swear.”

You shrugged, squeezing the boy’s hand as the bell rang loudly. You pulled away quickly, catching a glance at your now ex-boyfriend and the girl attached to his arm as he walked past your table. You cleared your throat, corralling your things together as you rose from your spot on the bench.

“I’ll-I’ll, uh, see you guys later. I’ve got to get to Chem. I can’t be late again or I’ll get a detention.” You stammered, feeling the tears prick at your eyes as you pulled your books in your arms.

“Let me walk with you.” Peter offered, noticing the sudden change in your mood as he rose from his seat and rounded the table to where you stood. “I have to get to Bio next door anyway.”

You nodded silently, surprised when you felt Peter’s hand press lightly against the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd in silence.

“You know, Bug, it’s okay to say things aren’t okay.” He finally said as you made it into the outer corridor of the cafeteria.

You bit your lip at his words, holding back the tears as you glanced over at him so he could finally see your eyes and cheeks red with pent up feelings.

“I’m fine.” You choked out, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.

Peter pulled you aside, out of the way of the walking students. His eyes, you could see as he rested his hands on your shoulders and forced you to look at him, were full of concern.

“I know you’re not. You want to talk about it?”

You couldn’t help it, the warmth and care in his brown eyes caused your tears to begin to fall as your hand shot up to wipe them quickly.

“You must think I’m pathetic.” You laughed uncomfortably as you spoke, “I’m crying over some stupid boy and you have to watch.”

Peter shook his head, his expression clearly showing the confusion in his mind as he looked at you.

He never found you pathetic nor would he ever. On the contrary, he found you to be the most amazing person he’d had ever known, and not just because you were best friends. Watching you cry, he realized something he’d never wanted to take a good hard look at.

You were the girl he’d always wanted to be with and you’d always kept him on the sidelines. You were everything he’d ever wanted and yet you always kept him as the best friend, the shoulder to cry on, the boy who often kept you afloat.

For a girl so in love with romance and cliches, you’d never realized how much of a walking cliche the two of you were.

Not that Peter was upset. He would never be upset by that, especially when you still allowed for him to be so close by your side.

“Oh, Y/n.” He pulled you into a hug after giving you a moment to clean yourself up. “I would never think you were pathetic. You’re the best person I know.”

You sniffed, bringing your arms around him to embrace him back before pulling away and looking up at him.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” He gave you a shy smile as he glanced down at you.

Your eyes traveled from gazing into his and looking to the spot on his shirt that you had now stained with tears and mascara.

“Even if I stained your nice white shirt with my make up?”

Peter pulled away, looking down at the shoulder of his shirt as he tugged at it to see the stain better. He sighed, chuckling lightly as he looked at you with a smile as warm as the look in his eyes.

“I have other shirts. I didn’t really like this one, anyway.”

“Peter, that’s your favorite one.”

Peter shrugged, letting go of the fabric between his fingers as he looked at you, wiping away the last remaining tear that clung to your cheekbone. “I’ll just have to find a new favorite then.”

You swallowed a bit, your hand reaching up and resting on his wrist as you smiled shyly, sudden feeling nervous.

“I should probably get to class.” You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Peter’s hand fell from your face quickly as he became aware of the new energy between you two.

“Yeah, yeah.” He cleared his throat harshly. “I should get going too.”

You nodded, allowing for silence to fall between you two as you quickly rushed to class, giving him a small wave before walking into the classroom.

The rest of the day felt uneventful and monotone with spurts of sadness and confusion here and there. You could feel the heartache of your breakup settle in every once in a while, especially in moments in which you let your mind wander while watching your ex-boyfriend now flirt with the girl beside him.

When your mind wasn’t wandering with thoughts of pain and heartbreak, it was full of thoughts of Peter and the moment you shared in the hallway.

It wasn’t that you’d never had a moment like that with Peter before, you’d had plenty of moments in which he comforted you while you were upset and visa versa. You were best friends, of course you’d have your fair share of comforting moments, such as the time when you spent a week at Peter’s house after his uncle passed away.

However, while you sat in class with your pen between your lips as you watched and counted down the minutes to the bell ringing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that that moment in the hallway meant something more to you.

As the bell finally rang, you practically ran out of the classroom and into the hall, only to run into the person you were looking for.

You feel backwards and onto the floor, slightly shocked by your bottom hitting the ground as Peter’s hand shot out towards you as he bent over.

“Shit, Y/n, you okay?” He asked as you grabbed his hand and allowed for him to help you up.

You dusted yourself off before picking up your bag. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What were you running for?”

“I was, uh, looking for you. We’re supposed to go to a movie, right?”

Peter nodded, starting to walk towards the front entrance of the school, his hands shoved into his pockets as you walked closely beside him.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked after the silence between you felt too heavy for him to bear.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I don’t know how I could really feel better while having to see my newly ex flirt with another girl not even 24 hours after our breakup.”

“I’m sorry, Bug.”

“It’s not your fault.” You shrugged, kicking a rock that sat on the sidewalk in front of you. “He can do what he wants. He’s a single man now.”

“I wouldn’t call him much of a man.” Peter admitted, taking a look in your direction.

You kicked the rock again as you approached it, watching it bounce and tumble down the sidewalk and into the grass.

“Are MJ and Ned going to meet us at the theater or what’s the plan?” You asked, trying to derail the conversation from the topic you had no interest in rehashing.

Peter pulled a hand from his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck before putting it back in his pocket. He should’ve known you’d ask about the other two people who were supposed to be in attendance to your evening out.

“MJ had to go to detention since she’s behind on her sketchbook work for art class. You know how she is, likes to draw people in detention for whatever reason. And Ned went home sick after lunch. He made the mistake of eating the meatloaf.” He lied, surprised he thought of something believable off the top of his head.

In reality, he paid MJ twenty dollars to refrain from going to the movie and to lie about her whereabouts, something she never had trouble at doing, and he promised Ned that he’d spend the rest of the weekend helping him build another Star Wars lego model even though Peter wanted to grow out of the habit of playing with legos.

You frowned a bit, having hoped you could’ve had some much needed girl time with MJ and wanting the funny commentary and banter of Ned during a movie that would normally terrify you.

“Oh. Well, that sucks, but it’s okay. At least we’re still going together.” You raised your frown into a slight smile.

Silence fell between you once again, leaving the only audible sound to be the wind and your heels hitting the ground in unison as you walked towards the movie theater.

“Don’t worry about paying tonight. It’s my treat.” Peter stated as the theater came into view on the horizon.

“Oh, Peter, you don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. Just let me treat you to a night out. I feel bad that you’ve been having a rough day, so it’s the least I could do.”

You reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks before you engulfed him into a hug with your arms tight around his neck and your perfume filling his nostrils.

“Peter Parker, you are truly my best friend and the love of my life.” You announced proudly, not realizing that the words warmed Peter in a way he’d never experienced before.

“I love you too, Y/n, but I cannot breathe with you choking me out like this.” He said softly, pretending to wheeze as you pulled away, giving him a shove.

“You are so dramatic.” You chuckled, starting to walk down the sidewalk once again.

“I’m dramatic?” Peter scoffed as he jogged to keep up with you. “Aren’t you the theater nerd?”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not also a drama queen.”

“I’ll have you know, I am very good at keeping my cool.”

“Tell that to Flash Thompson and your little rivalry.”

“Flash is an asshole.”

“I’m not saying he isn’t,” you argued, “all I’m saying is that you get a bit dramatic with him. I like to think he’s secretly in love with you.”

“Ew, gross.” Peter shook his head. “Flash is the last person I’d want a dramatic romance with.”

“I think Flash is the last person anyone wants to have a romance with.” You laughed.

Peter was glad that it seemed your spirits were lifting as you finally made it to the theater. He could feel his own spirits lifted by your bettering mood which left him not needing to worry as much.

He didn’t know whether it was the elation in mood he was feeling between the two of you or the instinctive urge to keep you close and protected that had him reaching for your hand as he opened the door to the theater to let you in first, but as you walked through the corridor, he grabbed it without thought or hesitation.

You didn’t know what possessed him to grab your hand either, but you found yourself refraining from questioning it, wanting to feel the warmth and caring touch of someone else. Though your spirits were lifted a bit, you still felt lonely deep down.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, glancing down at you as he grabbed the tickets from the girl at the ticket counter and began to guide you towards the snack bar.

You nodded, unsure of what to say as Peter continued to watch you closely. You held your breath, suddenly nervous with his eyes on you before you were saved by his eyes travelling to view the menu far above your head.

“I’m thinking we get a large popcorn and two sodas.” He thought out loud as you frowned. “Unless, that’s not what you want?”

You blinked, shaking your head quickly as you spoke. “No, no, sorry. I got lost in thought. That sounds fine. I’m not that hungry, though.”

“How are you not hungry? You ate two bites of mac and cheese at lunch and then pushed it around on your tray.”

You shrugged, pulling your hand from his and crossing your arms over your chest. You were somewhat building up an appetite, but every time you did, you suddenly felt sick by your own intrusive thoughts about your heartache and break up with a boy you knew you shouldn’t have been crying over.

“I guess I’m not really in the mood to eat too much.” You finally said.

“Well, I’m still getting the large and if you ask for any, I won’t give you some. You already said no.” Peter teased.

“Oh, you would never say no to me.”

“You wanna bet?” Peter raised a brow as you reached the front of the short line.

“I’ll bet you a bag of overpriced M&M’s.”

“I thought you weren’t hungry.”

“I am always hungry for M&M’s.”

Peter smiled with a light eye roll. “Alright, but you can’t eat any until we determine who won.”

“Deal.”

You smiled as he turned away from you, ordering your snacks and you began taking each one from him before he carried the popcorn and his drink and you carried your own drink and the bag of M&M’s you were so excited to win. You watched your feet fall to the ground to his in unison as you two stayed silent, trying to navigate the hallway for the theater your movie was in.

“Hey, Peter?” You caught the boy’s attention as he walked through the open door of your theater, a fistful of popcorn in his hand as he looked at you.

“Yeah?” He began walking backwards as he faced you and tossed the popcorn into his mouth.

“Can I have some popcorn?”

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded as he spoke through his mouthful of popcorn and held the bucket out to you.

You began laughing, taking a few pieces of popcorn and popping them into your mouth.

“Why are you laughing?” Peter asked as you were giggling beside him now following him up the stairs of the theater before looking down at his bucket. “Oh. I guess you can have those M&M’s after all.”

“We just made this bet! How’d you forget already?” You chuckled, walking past him and into an aisle, picking the perfect seat in the middle of the theater.

“I-I don’t know! I got so involved in the popcorn I forgot.”

“I guess that’s one way of saying you want to marry a food item.” You teased as he rolled his eyes and took a seat beside you.

“You know, I’m not going to get mad cause you’re going through it, but when you’re over it, I will get you back for this.”

“How? You’re already a victim of premature Alzheimer’s. You won’t remember this by the time I get a new boyfriend.”

You reached over, grabbing a handful of popcorn and beginning to eat the pieces one by one as you watched Peter closely.

“You know, sometimes I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“How would you know?”

“Cause you don’t even have a mean bone in your body. Flash bullies you mercilessly and you don’t even say anything back.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” You shook your head. “It makes you a good guy. And we need good guys in this world.”

“You think I’m a good guy?” Peter raised his brow as you nodded wildly at him.

“Of course I do.” You leaned over, placing a hand on his. “You’re not just a good guy, but a guy too good for this world, you know? You deserve the world, but the world doesn’t deserve you.”

Peter leaned in close to you. “Sorry, I don’t think I heard that.”

You could feel your breath hitch as he leaned in, his face a few mere inches from yours. It wasn’t that you were scared, but nervous at your excitement at the thought of him kissing you.

Peter could feel your anxious energy as he leaned in close, the urge to kiss you in the way he’d always wanted to growing strong as he moved his head so your lips were lined up to his ear. It wasn’t that he wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t want to take advantage of your loneliness in that moment.

You leaned in close to his ear, your nostrils now full of his shampoo as you spoke softly. “I said that I thought you were such a great guy that you deserve the world, but the world doesn’t deserve you.”

“You mean that?” He answered back, his voice as soft as your own.

He did dare lean back or move his head from the position it was in for fear that he’d kiss you so soon. The words you were saying were ones he always wanted you to say, but never thought would come out. He wanted to be everything you ever wanted, but your words now felt somewhat short yet so close to that sentiment.

“Of course I do.” You replied, your own urge to kiss him rising steadfast in the back of your mind.

You couldn’t tell if it was your loneliness or the sudden dimming of the theater lights that had you realizing that all you wanted was to cross the line of friendship with Peter, a line you never realized was made to be crossed when it came to your friendship.

Every touch, every sweet nothing, every thing about him you loved began to swirl around in your mind as you pulled away from him and gazed into his eyes before planting your lips on his, pushing him back into the armrest of his seat.

Peter was shocked by the gesture as he leaned into the kiss, his hands resting on your cheeks before you pulled away from him breathlessly.

“Y/n, I-”

“Peter.” You cut him off before giggling. “Go ahead.”

“Bug, I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you and your feelings about your breakup even though I really like you and-”

You cut the boy off with another kiss, not wanting to hear what he had to say. You knew he was going to give you some speech about how you might not know what your feeling and so on, but you didn’t care. You knew that you kissed him and you liked it and that it felt more right than any date with Brad.

You pulled away, putting a hand over his mouth before he could speak as you began to instead. “Peter, I know how I feel. I like you too, okay? Now, can we just take advantage of the fact we’re some of the few people in here and just hang out?”

Peter nodded, pulling your hand off of him. “I think I’d like that.”

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simpz-art-stash · 4 years ago

Text

Late Beginnings [Ch. 2]

Summary: Macaque’s gotten over the biggest gap on his side of the burnt bridge between him and his broke af relationship with Wukong. Now he’s gotta take an even bigger leap in hopes of getting MK to give him a chance as well.

(Author’s note: DUNNO IF THERE’LL BE MORE BUT WE’LL SEE, FEEL FREE TO SUGGEST STUFF TO PUT IN HERE)

Previous | Next

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

It should’ve been easy, a kid like MK had a good head on his shoulders, enough to see the good in all besides himself.

It should’ve been easy.

So then why the hell was he still standing on the sidelines mulling over what to say to the kid who was just a few yards away training under the careful eye of his mentor?

What could he say? The same to Wukong? He felt that might be a bit too cliche, even if it had worked.

‘Just barely.’

Mac sighed, brushing his hair back and watching the two practice stillness together, Wukong resting on his tail in a lotus position while MK stood on one foot, straining to keep his posture in check. Even with the staff being used as a counter-balance his muscles flexed against the lack of support in his other leg.

Maybe he could offer him something? Nothing major of course, something innocent but worthwhile and thoughtful. Demon head’s wouldn’t do, the kid had no real use for those, nor would he probably appreciate a trophy that wasn’t his. What did kids even like these days anyways? He thought of toys but, MK was practically a bigger kid than most other cub’s. Most kids like him usually just kept to popular places or their phones…

Decisions decisions…

A small yelp forced him out of his thoughts, his gaze shifting back over to MK who had since fallen back on his butt. Groaning and complaining like usual before Wukong gave him the ol’ ‘keep it up!’ attitude, prompting MK to simply nod and give it another try.

‘Geeze, and I thought my training was harsh. At least I gave him actual critique on his form…’

Then an idea flashed in his mind, popping off like a rocket and he suddenly found himself with something worthwhile.

------~------

“Alright bud, I think that’s enough of that. Why don’t you hit the bench, I need to go check on the kids back inside n’ make sure they haven’t left a mess after that marathon I set up for em.” Wukong claimed, patting MK on the back before turning away. Offering a curt wave as he left, “Call me if you need me!”

“Alright, I will!” MK sighed and made his way over to a makeshift seat, which happened to be nothing more than a split log. And proceeded to take his headband off if not to just drench his hair in some of the water from one of the bottle’s he’d brought along with him. Before guzzling the rest of it down like he hadn’t drank in forever.

“I see he’s been keepin’ you on your toes. Full pun intended.” Mac commented, earning him a startled squeak from MK who had just about spat his drink out when Mac rounded him from behind to sit himself down on the opposing side of the log.

MK had heard a little snippet from MKing about Macaque trying to make amends, he didn’t get the full details but he’d heard enough to know to keep an eye out for the guy. Not that he wasn’t already always on high alert for any suspicious activity.

“Guh- yeah.” MK coughed a little, rubbing his throat a little as he cleared it. “It hasn’t been uh, easy, but I think I’m gettin’ better. Just need to try harder or whatever…”

“Mmm…” Mac let his gaze concentrate on the immortal peach tree Wukong had planted out in the front of his yard, it having long since bloomed and been picked clean.

MK shifted a little under the uncomfortable silence that spread between the two, there wasn’t tension in it per sey, but it was still a lil awkward for him to just outright be chatting it up with the same guy who had once tried to kill him at one point.

“So uh..I was hoping to..make it up to you, what with everything that happened the last time…” Mac’s face squinted a little, his tail irritably swaying behind him, it seemed this was just as awkward for him as it was MK.

“Uhm..okay?..” MK veered a little away from the guy, not too sure how to handle that. “Hey if this is about the whole ‘you trying to kill me thing’ then uh, hey man we’re cool.”

“What? I mean yeah but, it’s more than just that..” Mac fiddled idly with the hem of his cloak, the things color long since having been worn down from the elements. “A lot more…”

“Complicated?” MK quirked a brow at him.

“Yeeaaahh…”

“Heh, been there. Done that.” MK nodded, not that it was anything to be proud of.

“He didn’t tell you?” Mac looked at MK finally with a concerned expression.

“About you and him?? I mean..yeah he told me a lil..mostly just warned me to keep an eye out for you but…” MK rubbed the back of his neck out of nervous habit, shifting under the demon’s gaze.

“Of course he didn’t…” Mac sighed with a frown, “Well, maybe that’s where I can help you out. I know Wukong, he doesn’t exactly give you the full picture so easily, then again he’s never really had a student before either so.”

“So?”

‘So, he won’t just outright give you the benefit of the doubt just like that, especially if you just say you’ll give him whatever advice he wants. He’ll think you’re just trying to pull him from Wukong again or worse.’

“What I mean to say is, if you want to correct your form with that whole balancing thing, you should try putting less focus into just your foot, and put it towards your whole body.” Macaque stated plainly, his gaze shifting away back to the peach tree.

“Oh..uhm..alright?...Thanks???” MK blinked, none too sure what to make of that, but he wasn’t trying to kill him, or hurt his feelings so, maybe that was a good thing??

“Feel free to mention it to him…” Macaque claimed, his gaze softening before he got up finally and began to walk elsewhere.

“h-Wait!” MK called out, standing up right then. To which Macaque of course obliged, though he kept his back facing kid.

“..are you..like...being serious about that whole, ‘making amends’ thing?..” MK squinted at him suspiciously, even if Macaque could lie about his true intentions, MK at least thought it right to ask. Considering everything else…

“Yes.” Mac stated, his tail curling a little behind him.

“Ohkaaay... “ It was still hard to tell but, “Then why’re you trying to?-”

“Because he told me to.” Mac claimed, his head turning just enough to share a glance with the kid. “Don’t get the wrong idea..it was wrong of me, but.”

“Buuut?”

-------~-------

“But whatever you do, you gotta stop lyin’ about the real stuff.”

Mac grunted, that was probably gonna be the hardest trial of his to overcome. For him, lying was basically his day by day means of survival. “I think I’d rather cut my own tongue out at that point an be mute then cut that out.”

The chick shrugged, “Hey, I’m just sayin’. Honesty is the best policy. Even if it hurts to hear it, better said than left for dead. You want em to trust you again? You gotta earn it. A few pretty words ain’t never gonna be enough. You gotta put some effort behind em.”

“Uuuugh.” He rolled his eyes, already regretting having decided to go through with the whole thing. “Fine...but if I get my ass beat because someone couldn’t take the heat, I’ll hunt you down.”

“I’ll take that chance.” The chick smirked.

-------~-------

Macaque sighed, he could already imagine just how easy it’d be to screw up something so casually done by others. Century old lies he’d held onto for most his life being the worst one’s, with how gnarled they were from the many times they’d been knotted by his reasons to keep them from being undone by any means necessary. He’d run from them for such a long time though, enough to the point where he’d finally hit the end of his lead, and now he was forced to look back at the mess he’d caused.

It wasn’t a pretty sight at all.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t go back and try to fix some of it. Now matter how long it took, little by little. He just had to be careful in doing so or else he’d just get himself wrapped up in knots all over again.

“...I..” Just say it, even if it’s half the truth.

“I didn’t want to see you waste that potential under a guy who wouldn’t appreciate it...” Macaque claimed, his gaze shifting away.

That...was probably the first time MK had ever seen Mac show a genuine side of himself before. Even during training he’d been distant and strict, similar to Wukong but a lot less merciful in a spar. Where with Mac, bruises were lessons learned.

“...Thanks. For the uh..advice I mean.”

Macaque stiffened a little at the response, but he didn’t spoil it for fear of ruining what little ground he had on that bridge.

“Anytime.”

And then he was gone.

#shadowpeaches #LMK #lego monkie kid #Sun Wukong #Macaque #MK #my fics #ayeeeee chaptah 2 baebeeeee #just as messy as the last one #with some sloppy seconds #;'D

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devildom-dedicated-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Afterstory (Diavolo)

Arc 3: The Cursed Witch Seduces the Wild Prince

@karmaaf @mac-the-oregonian @imagine-my-hero-and-vills @lady-naho @viptrash @cinnamon-bisquit xxnio-chanxx @pen-observing I wanna be friends with you, too <3

“Princess … ”

Diavolo cradled your body closer to him. Your warmth seeped out with each second. Stale blood dripped from your wounds.

Diavolo chuckled drily.

Those gentle hands that would pat his head, the calloused but lovely fingers that drove him crazy with each touch--he will never feel them again.

Chuckling became laughing.

His flames blazed brighter and pitch-black smoke rose from earth. Rising higher into the sky, Diavolo’s wings grew and stretched so far they covered the sun and engulfed the city in darkness. From his flames swung out a tail with scarlet scales. It swept across the buildings, killing hundreds and destroying everything.

“Beast!” The humans screamed. “The witch summoned a beast!”

“Witch?” Diavolo repeated.

His maniacal laugh thundered throughout the city.

“You killed her for that?” The woman he loved was a soul who would never use her magic selfishly. You never turned away a patient even when they disrespected you.

The red dragon tenderly gazed at the lifeless body in his hand.

The skin had lost its vigor, scratches covered your face, and the arms …

How long did you suffer? How much did you suffer?

If only … if only he stayed with her.

“Unholy beast!”

Diavolo’s thoughts were interrupted when the human soldiers started shooting arrows at him. One arrow flew past his claws and almost hit your corpse.

The red dragon roared into the sky.

The large city that once bustled with life was reduced to ashes in less than half a day.

Diavolo flew back to your home. When he found the squatters wearing your clothes and the kids trampling the flowers you adored, he almost sent them to the next life. But he sensed the mana that radiated from them. It was your mana.

“Take off the clothes that aren’t yours and leave behind what belongs in this house,” he ordered with glowing eyes.

There were a foolish few who disobeyed by pocketing a ruby Diavolo gifted. They were two kids, the ones who threw rocks at you--

Half their faces were melted off.

“A saint touched your souls so I won’t kill you,” Diavolo said. “But don’t test my patience.”

The refugees ran for the mountains and Diavolo was left alone.

“I’m here,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I’m right here, princess, so come back soon … ”

Gabriel and Lilith arrived a few weeks later. They’ve only now just heard the news.

Shock didn’t begin to describe what they felt at the scene that welcomed them.

Your humble mud house was transformed into a wooden cottage. The tiny patch of soil you proudly called a garden was bigger, lining the side of the river with herbs and flowers and other plants.

Life seemed to overflow

Gabriel barged inside the cottage.

The crown prince of hell sat on the edge of a bed. He was wiping the feet of a corpse, his eyes full of mad love while telling a story about how big the pomegranates were.

“I promise I didn’t use any magic. When you wake up, let’s make some dessert with them--”

A fist flew and Diavolo landed on the ground.

“You crazy … ” Gabriel’s chest heaved. He didn’t even know where to begin.

Luckily, Lilith was there. She patted his shoulder before approaching the prince. “Cousin, this is wrong.”

Diavolo lifted his head, eyes empty before focusing on Lilith. He grinned mechanically. “Oh, I didn’t notice you coming in.”

The angels exchanged glances.

“Do you like the house? I built it myself.”

“Diavolo--”

“I was giving princess a bath, she’s so spoiled--”

“Diavolo,” Lilith cut him off. “Diavolo, MC is dead.”

“She’s sleeping, Lilith. She can’t be dead, she’s going to be the queen of hell. We promised we’d be together so there’s no way she’s dead.”

“Oy,” Gabriel stepped forward, glaring at the prince. “Stop running away from this, bastard. MC is dead. She’s gone.”

“Gone,” Diavolo repeated with a whisper.

Your soul was gone.

But that’s not possible. When you became one, he reinforced his seal so you would be bound to him forever. But your soul was gone. You weren’t just dead, your soul was gone. He couldn’t feel it anymore. Your soul vanished like a whisper in the wind.

Gone--

You were gone.

Diavolo clawed at his chest, cutting skin and drawing blood. His insides twisted. He buckled down and threw up.

“Right--” He croaked as angry fat, angry tears blurred his vision. He pulled on his hair. “She’s gone. She’s gone … Even Barbatos said her soul … she’s gone.”

“Do you think that’s true?” Lilith knelt down and looked straight into his eyes. “Diavolo, think again.”

“A soul is immortal. She may be lost,” Gabriel said. “But she’s not irretrievable. And when she comes back is this how you want to greet her?” He gestured at the ice-cold body.

Diavolo chuckled wearily. “What do you know?”

“I know that you didn’t deserve her--”

“Gabriel--” Lilith tried to calm him down again but he shrugged her off.

“--I know that she deserves more than a pathetic, sobbing mess who avoids responsibility.”

The demon prince couldn’t bring himself to retort. Gabriel was right, he was pathetic.

“I know this doesn’t sound much from an uncultured girl like me but … but I want to work together with you. I want to be a partner who can help you with your problems.”

Your words echoed in the back of his mind and Diavolo laughed again. With a tearful smile, he looked out the window and into the clear morning sky.

“You win, princess. You always win.”

Meanwhile, in a roofless room surrounded by stars and with walls that stretched so far you could not see the end, two men played a game of chess.

The one who held an ebony pawn sighed. It was King Drakul of Devildom.

His opponent, a man with greying hair crudely dyed purple at the tips, quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong, old friend?”

“I was just thinking--it’s very hard being a father.”

“Oh.” His opponent nodded in agreement. “I feel ya. Lately, Lili has taken an interest in the human realm and Levi…the one with the bowl haircut keeps messing with the time warps. He’s already reading literature that shouldn’t be in existence yet.”

“First of all, their names are Lilith and Leviathan. Secondly, my case is different from yours. Diavolo--”

“It’s about time Diavolo fixes his behavior.”

“I suppose … ”

“Cheer up, Drakul. Our plan worked, or rather, it’s going to work. Ain’t that right, Barbatos?”

Barbatos appeared with a burst of green smoke. He refilled their teacups. “You are correct, Lord God.”

Drakul sighed again.

“Hey now, you can’t start regretting it now,” said Lord God. “I went AWOL for an extra five thousand years just for this moment.”

He disappeared for millenia, causing conflict among the angels, and then arrived in time to stop a full-scale war. Not to mention, he had to create a random body and puppeteer it from the sidelines while waiting for a Host.

“You can’t soften up now. Otherwise all that effort to educate Diavolo would have gone to waste. Think of those poor souls who failed and got sent to punishment worlds because of him, think of those humans he killed when he went feral the other day--think of how many loops Barbatos has gone through--and the beating Diavolo almost gave him!” Lord God dropped a sugar cube into his cup.

“I know, I know … But those 2430 souls are on you. You could easily have asked Barbatos who would be the successful Host.”

“You know I don’t roll like that. It’s boring to know everything—why do ya think I sealed away my powers?” Lord God added another sugar cube. “Ah, speaking of, what do you think of my newest recruit? The second genius I’ve encountered since I started this gig.”

“Hm, let’s see.” Drakul grabbed a flower-shaped cookie. “Sharp-witted, competent and ruthless. I say, they’d be an excellent queen.”

Lord God spat out his tea. “You can’t--cough--you can’t be serious.”

“You can't deny that there is a possibility." He turned to his butler. "Right, Barbatos?”

A mysterious look ghosted over Barbato's eyes, then he grinned subserviently. “It is as you say, sire.”

Author’s note:

If you know me from Tumblr then you already know that I have this headcanon: In the past Diavolo was a wild, rebellious blood knight but now he is desperate to maintain peace in the three realms because he fell in love with a human in the past and patiently waits for her reincarnation so he can welcome her as his queen. Also, he's only the crown prince in the Obey Me! storyline because he refuses to become king without his beloved.

Man, I know I poke fun at him for being a reckless idiot in the story, but damn.

And imagine all the crap he deals with for uniting the three realms--all that effort for a soul who didn’t even look back when she left. 🤧

(To have that kind of power on a man... Ate MC, paturo naman po. Charot lang. We must aspire to be good people haha)

Oh, and by the way--

I would like to clarify something since you guys keep making so many conspiracy theories.

Regarding the characters from the fictional worlds and the real world:

The Obey Me! Characters that manifest in the fictional worlds are treated as separate entities from those in the Real World. E.g. Lucifer from the CEO’s arc is different from the Lucifer in Diavolo’s arc/Real World, so if the same character appears twice, our MC will not compare their names, appearances, etc. Think of it as a perception filter. However, you can say that they are still connected because they are alternative selves of each other. So residual affections felt by CEO!Lucifer will be felt by Real World!Lucifer.

What was the third party interference at the end?

Unless the above story wasn't clear enough, the interference was Diavolo.

Will MC have a harem?

Who knows.

Hope that makes things clear :D

(And please keep up with the praise, this madam would sell her firstborn for more praises from you guys.)

Until the next arc, my dear readers!

#obey me #obey me swd #shall we date #diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader #afterstory #lore #obey me backstory #headcanon #imagine #scenario #angst #angssst

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gone-series-orchid · 4 years ago

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i’ve been thinking about something like a ‘reverse’ au, but rather than something like sam goes to coates instead of caine or something, it’s more like their roles or arcs are switched? so it ends up being that the perdido beach kids are the ‘bad side’ and the coates kids are the ‘good side’. it’s obviously hard to work out because most of the characters fall into some grey morality but it’s still an idea. it would also mean some characters’ personalities are changed as well.

that sounds so interesting, anon! it sounds to me like your au would traffic in lots of class tropes—instead of the coates kids being troubled rich snobs and the townies being essentially your normal, relatable public high school kids, the coates kids would probably be the spoiled-but-sweet neglected children of perdido beach’s rich couples and the townies would be “from the wrong side of the tracks”—public school-educated (meaning, of course, not educated at all) latchkey kids who roam around and stir up trouble while their white-collar parents work menial jobs all day. they’d be jaded and toughened-up due to childhoods spent in underfunded schools, brought up on cable tv and kraft mac ‘n’ cheese (the horror!), dissatisfied with their lives but lacking the imagination needed to think of anything different.

here’s how i think the kids might be changed by this switch:

caine - a kid who’s considered a bit of an arrogant snob even by his peers. still ambitious but more in a “i have to lead these kids because they’re too dumb to lead themselves” kind of way. his backstory of neglect is probably milked for all the sympathy it’s worth to explain his more unsavory traits

diana - is still a bully with a promiscuous reputation, but her backstory of assault and mistreatment is emphasized right away to explain her antisocial behavior. sort of like a “you love to hate her” character, like regina george of mean girls or something; she’s mean, but in kind of a cool way. probably has genuine love of caine right off the bat but doesn’t want to get with him because of her own insecurity/feeling that she’s “damaged goods” (☹️) because of her promiscuity or the abuse she suffered. painted in a “wounded bird w/ hard exterior and soft center” way, maybe similar to lana after her experience with the gaiaphage. her family’s wealth means she gets the best clothes and is thus sort of revered at coates for her fashion sense and intimidating aura.

drake - the wild card extremist and devil on caine’s shoulder. probably the darkest of the already morally gray coates trio but not a bad guy deep down, he’s just more willing to go to some dark places morality-wise and play devil’s advocate. still devilishly handsome as in canon. probably has mommy issues and problems with intimacy because of them. has a “woman-hater” reputation and spouts some Obnoxious but Endearing Misogyny™ (🙄) throughout the series.

sam - tries to stick to the sidelines to avoid sticking out as in canon, but in this au it’s because sticking out almost inevitably means getting bullied by rougher and tougher kids. tries to rule perdido beach despite being wildly unsuited for it because he has a persecution complex with regard to the coates kids, believing them to be elitist slobs just because they’re wealthy. insecure because of his mother’s position as the coates school nurse and his family’s own lack of financial security. when pushed into a position of power, he tries to compensate wildly for it by acting like living in town means he knows best for all the kids, as he knows what it’s like to struggle compared to the coates kids who were born with silver spoons in their mouths. the coates kids don’t like him because of his richist views and the perdido beach kids only tolerate him because of his power and—grudgingly—because of his school bus sam reputation, as well as because he’s a townie.

astrid - desperate to gain a real education among like-minded intellectuals, she’s just biding her time before she can graduate high school and leave. her high iq and devout christianity make her an outsider to the usual riff-raff of the town, making her a marked threat to caine’s plans. more calculating from the start, astrid has plans to rule perdido beach through uniting sam’s scrappy group of kids (quinn, edilio, other kids who aren’t super good in a fight) with the larger community of thugs and bullies ruled by orc. finds the coates kids to be snide and classist, though secretly she longs for the same educational opportunities they received. deeply protective of little pete as in canon, feeling that he’d have better support in an environment more conducive to helping kids with special needs instead of in the town’s lackluster special education classes. tutored orc with the motive of trying to prove to herself that she could get the town’s biggest thug to change his ways through educating him in algebra, with mixed results. orc still appreciates her efforts though because of course he does. she’s probably a bit more high-minded and openly judgmental than in canon due to her insecurity over her less intellectual peers, disliking diana immediately for her “slutty” ways and conflating the way she dresses with a wasted education. cold and practical without any of the relatability or “people skills” needed to connect with either the coates kids or the townies, hence why she uses sam and orc, playing on their feelings for her to manipulate them more easily (adding on a layer of hypocrisy for calling diana a tease/flirt).

i can’t think of anything else right now, but i really like this au, anon!! idk if these suggestions are what you were thinking, but maybe they’ll lend you some inspiration?

thank you for the ask! feel free to send more!

#gone series #michael grant #the gone series #astrid ellison #charles merriman #diana ladris #drake merwin #sam temple #caine soren

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misskittysmagicportal · 4 years ago

Text

The Dog Days Are Over

Nathan Young kinda fluff. Safe for work other than a word or two. Takes place a few years after the events of “Vegas Baby”

Nathan leaned with one elbow against the makeshift bar to the side of the dancefloor. A look of minor drunken denial on his face and a self-filling champagne flute in his left hand. He watched as Louise and her new husband, the one and only Jeremy, saw only each other as they swayed to “Songbird” by Fleetwood Mac. Had to admit his mum had never been as happy as she was at this moment.

You made your way through the guests to stand beside Nathan. The last time you saw each other was somewhere between the end of his ASBO and when he met Marnie. A twinge of jealousy ran through your body as you ordered a whiskey sour loud enough for him to hear.

“Nathan?” you feigned shock.

He raised his glass, “Fucking brilliant! Was trying to figure out who I was gonna give the toss about tonight.”

You rolled your eyes but blushed at the same time, “Remains to be seen. I see you wore high tops to Lou’s wedding.”

Nathan tossed back the golden liquid and manifested more,“Figured tops and tails was a bit much. Didn’t want to outshine the man Mum lives with. I know you fancy what I threw together right?” he slowly ran his hand over the length of a lithe body outfitted in a white dress shirt, a blue and green tartan vest and black skinny jeans.

The fire reached your ears as you followed his movement downwards, but then you remembered yourself. “I honestly didn’t even know you could grow facial hair,” you retorted with a soft shrug.

Without a second thought, Nathan snapped his fingers and it was gone. Goatee, mustache, poof! Clean shaven. Your eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “Better?” his eyebrow cocked.

“How.. I thought you were immortal,” you mocked his accent playfully.

“C’mon why have just ONE A list power when you can have two?” he snapped his fingers again to regrow the mustache and beard. “Magics aside, how’ve you been, love?” His green eyes never left the couple on the dance floor.

“Well I finished my degree and I work for a book publisher now. Shocking, I know. People actually still read books despite Kindles and Nooks. How about you?” you matched his laissez faire position. Your legs crossed at the ankles as you leaned back against the bar, the hem of your dress rode up in the process.

This time Nathan turned to look directly in your eyes. “Meat group in a prison cell.”

You glanced heavewards with slight confusion, “Oh bullshit! You were there what? Two weeks tops before they deported you.”

“FINE! Just a bit of a dessert,” he winked and swiveled his hips a bit. “Honing my magic tricks though. Quite good at it now if you haven’t noticed. Ten quid I can make that dress disappear,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

Your heart started to pound in your ear, but you faced him. Your nose and his just a breadth away from one another. “Like Marnie did?”

Nathan grabbed his chest dramatically, “Low blow sweetheart. Was thinking more like my cock inside you.” He took one last swig of the champagne and slammed the glass down. He turned to you, grabbed your face and pulled you into an awkward and sloppy kiss. His tongue pushing inside your mouth briefly before he broke away and staggered backwards. Then Nathan hooked his thumbs through the sides of his vest, eyes ablaze with mischief “Pardon me, but I have a speech to make.”

You were dizzy with excitement, the blood had rushed to areas that you were convinced others would notice. Yet not one set of eyes were on you, only Nathan who now stood directly in the center of the room between Louise and Jeremy. They had somewhere between worry and terror in their eyes.

Nathan’s hands were raised with palms outwards towards the guests. He swayed slightly before another snap of his fingers. The room, the guests, even the music all halted. The room became eerily quiet except the sounds of breathing. Louise and Jeremy seemed rooted to their very spots. You watched as a slow smirk spread across Nathan’s lips as he waved his hands a bit as if he was dismissing servants. The crowd gasped as full glasses appeared suddenly in their hands out of nowhere. Not just of liquor, but all together. Where people weren’t holding them before.

“Dearly beloved!” Nathan slurred. “You have all gathered here today to celebrate the union of my Mum and the guy she lives with.” A pregnant pause. “Now as you all may or may not know, Louise here. My darling Mummy. I do love you, you know. You did put aside so much of your life to raise me. I was, to put it so bluntly, a right little cunt.”

You narrowed your eyes from the sidelines. The blood pumped deafeningly in your ears as you held your face in your hands. All eyes were transfixed on your ex lover as he continued whether they had a choice or not.

Nathan’s index finger swung around precariously in a circle. “I mean you have told your mates here about Jezza’s little secret right? All of your friends that showed up at my funeral. The friends you told I was on Holidays in America when you heard I went to jail, right Louise? You love me, in your own way I suppose. Your little embarrassment. Your grown adult embarrassment now.”

You gawked as Louise went to speak, to stop her son, but nothing could escape her lips. You rushed forward and into the center of everything to take Nathan’s free hand in your own. “There’s no reason to do this? Not today. Please?” You plead with him as you pressed your hand to his cheek.

Nathan leaned into it for just a moment, eyes closed and body relaxed. Time stopped, everything stopped. A spotlight on just you and he in the midst of hundreds of eyes. You wrap your arms around each other in a hug, his hands with a mind of their own move over the curves of your backside in front of everyone. His chin comes to rest on your head as you bury your face in his chest.

“Let’s go,’ you looked up at him as you clutched the lapel of his shirt. “C’mon. Fancy a shag? For old time’s sake. I’ll do that thing you like.”

Nathan cocked an eyebrow; his eyes bored into you. “All fours?”

You nodded, finally realizing there was an actual bubble around the two of you out on the floor. A legit cone of silence that blocked you and here from the now lively wedding all around. As if a spell had been broken as long as the two of you were together.

Nathan smiled wickedly and covered your mouth with his in a passionate kiss. Tongue forcing inside of your mouth again as he squeezed your backside. He started to grind his hips into yours, a slight erection inside of his pants.

“I just have to do one more thing.”

You sighed, smiling and pulled at your lip where he had just been. “Ok” you were drunk with desire. Ignorant of what was about to happen and the illusion he had constructed while you were in the bubble.

The silence was deafening once more as you gasped. Now the world froze except for you and Nathan. His arm tight around your waist. The guests unmoving like mannequins, glossed eyes.

“It does make some part of me happy to know that dog is truly a woman's best friend,” his speech picked up where he had left off. As if not one second had skipped between his admonishment of Louise and this very moment. “And Louise darling, you certainly did pick a dog!”

Just like that, Nathan’s large hand grabbed yours and he snapped his fingers one more time. To your utter disbelief Jeremy morphed into a Jack Russell terrier right in front of your eyes. In pops across the crowd men turned one by one into various types of dogs. Louise and the women all screamed in shock.

But you couldn’t even wrap your brain around what was happening as Nathan broke into a run as you trailed behind struggling to keep up in your heels. His laughter maniacal but also catching and you couldn’t help but join in.

“I always hated fucking weddings”

#robert sheehan #nathan young #misfits #just a bit of chaos #some fun

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shihozaki · 4 years ago

Note

Omg hi, I feel so exposed bc there’s no anon 😭. But oh well. I just stumbled across your account as saw that you did matchups! I was wondering if I could request a match up for BNHA? My name is Hannah (she/her), I’m 21 (almost 22 on the 13th of April 😔) (you can either age the character up or age me down if you match me with someone younger HSHDNKD they’re just fictional so I don’t mind as long as you don’t mind). I’m 5’6, ravenclaw, INFP, aries.

Personality-wise I’m honestly really shy at first but I could hold a lowkey awkward conversation and you’d probably never know that I’m shy BDJKD, but once I’m comfortable with someone I’m a complete crackhead. You’ll never get me to shut up. I think I’m pretty caring, I have a bad habit of not being able to say no though. I really need to stop doing that. My fav color is sage green or light blue! I’m honestly just scared of being alone and not accomplishing my future goal of becoming a writer/editor. Thinking about my future just really terrifies me 😭. I love to listen to music (BTS are my babies pls). I love making myself cry by watching sad k-dramas. I’m really new to anime, so if you have an sad one LMK PLS. I get attached to fictional characters very quickly. Catch me in my room fangirling to the walls bc I’m a loner ✋🏼😩. I also just have a hard time making eye contact with men, but like I do want a man for myself one day😔 just how the heck do I do that???? I’m very insecure about my looks and my body. I’m a little chubby, so someone who would not judge me bc of that would be PERFECT. I have dark brown hair and dark brown eyes (bleh) I wear glasses (I’m so blind :/) idk what else to say about my appearance LOL.

My ideal man 🤩 let me try and not make it obvious over who I simp over gosh. Uhhh I’m not picky about looks, like nothing in particular comes to mind. I’ve had a crush on real/fictional ppl that look very different from each other HDNDKSS. Call me crazy, but I would die for a protective s/o 😩 like yes protect meeeee pls. I can only see myself in a relationship with a man, so he should be male lol. But throw in a female bestie in there if you’d like 😩. As long as he loves me it really doesn’t matter how he acts. I just need me a loyal man who I can talk to comfortably. Someone who will understand my emotions and struggles? Idk. Dates—amusement park, concert, movie theatre. Somewhere where we wouldn’t have to do a lot of talking (dinner dates could be for later on when I’m more comfortable around him LOL)

Quirk o.o hm. I don’t think I’d want a major quirk that could overthrow him. Maybe I could have a quirk that helps people? If I’m matched with a student, then I’d probably be in a lower class. But if you end up aging them up or matching me with a pro hero or something then I’d probably work on the sidelines with helping rescue civilians. A quirk that allows me to see through any smoke or debris (if a building fell and someone was trapped I’d be able to see and locate them quickly) IDK honestly I haven’t thought about it much, but if you can think of anything better, then go for it 😭.

I really love Italian food, and any East Asian food (Chinese, Korean, Japanese) I love it all. Uhhh I have a dog she’s 5 years old and I recently got another puppy, she’s only 2 months old 🥺. I love reading and writing. I mentioned it a little before, but I’d love to become a writer and editor in the future. I still have a long way before I’m completely confident in my writing though :”). I love to dream. I try and think about a specific person to try and dream about them at night (it worked a few times with BTS and Bakugou 😭 I was so happy) Uhhhhhhhhhh, I think that’s all. Thank you so much for doing this! Take your time and I hope you have fun writing these. I really appreciate it! This is honestly how I comfort myself, by inserting myself into these scenarios that people write about my favorite characters, so my heart always leaps whether writers like you offer matchups! So thank you x 9827389292. I hope this was enough info to write something with 😂. OH and for the scenario maybe something like how we first met compared to how it is when we’ve been together for awhile? I suffer with frequent anxiety attacks, so that might play a role in the relationship somewhere? Idk. Just throwing ideas and info to you at this point 😭 thank you again! 💜

I pair you up with Kirishima Eijiro!

Your quirk is “Lucid dreams”, where you can visit people in their dreams! You also have full consciousness in your dreams, so you can practically do anything when you are sleeping!

- You guys first met in middle school, when you had first transferred there. You guys became friends when he volunteered to show you around the school

- You wanted to be a writer/editor and he wanted to be a hero. You guys fully supported each other, and still kept in contact even after departing ways to high school.

- He asked you out eventually, and when you said yes, the Bakusquad came out running to you, congratulating both of you. Turns out Kirishima told his friends all about you and they followed him when he decided to ask you out.

- He drinks respect women juice every single morning- he literally praises the ground you walk on?? He hypes you up whenever you’re feeling insecure, and makes sures that you’re feeling comfortable at all times

- You made him watch a bunch of K-dramas to cry together, and at first he refused to cry (“It’s not manly to cry!”) and then gave up and ended up sobbing with you.

- And he’s SO loyal! Whenever a girl comes up to him, he immediately turns them down, saying that he already has someone. When someone comes up to you, he gets very defensive of you, and shows the guy that you already have someone by PDA.

- He helps you calm down whenever you’re having anxiety attacks, and he actually researched about it when you told him. He!s very patient and helpful

- Adores your dogs (“I don’t know who’s cuter. You, or your dogs!”)

- Don’t tell anyone, but he’s already planning the wedding with Bakugou as his best man ;)

- Overall you guys have a very trusting relationship, where two kind but also crazy souls live in harmony :)

Scenario: When you first met VS Now

“Do you remember when we first met?” You asked randomly. You were watching a K-drama with him, and the flashbacks the lead was getting in the drama made you think past your own memories. “When we first met? Hmm, it was in middle school, right?” Replied Kirishima. You nodded. “We were so awkward back then!” You said as you cringed at the thought of middle school. “You were so shy back then- you would barely say anything to me.” Said Kirishima. “You were scared to make eye contact with me!” You laughed. “I’m shy whenever I meet new people!” Kirishima laughed along with you. “I think we got really close after being partnered for a project.. it was about our future career plans?” Kirishima wondered. “Oh, I remember! You said you wanted to be a hero, and I wanted to be a writer… we were high in hopes but had so many insecurities as a child.” You thought out loud. “We’re still children.” Replied Kirishima. “At least, you act like it.” You shoved him as he smirked. “Yeah, and you were so scared to hold my hand when we first started dating.” Said Kirishima as he hugged you from the back. “Now we do so much other stuff.” You replied. “We could be doing more.” Kirishima whispered into your ear, earning a whack in the head from you. “I miss middle school kirishima...” You joked. “Black haired Kirishima was so cute..” “Hey, hey, I’m still cute. I might even be cuter than your K-pop boys.” Said Kirishima while grinning. You smiled back. “Let’s not go that far.”

Song: Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

I hope you enjoyed it! I’m actually Korean so I love K-dramas! I hope the scenario was somewhat satisfactory. Please tell me how you felt about it, and I hope to see you again soon!

#x reader #matchups #mha matchup #matchups closed #kirishima x you

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vanchlo · 5 years ago

Text

Gatsby (Green Eyes / 3)

Read the first part, here, and the second part, here! :-)

Blurb Synopsis: With a few months of teaching under your belt, at times you find yourself struggling. Luckily, your boyfriend and teaching colleague, Harry, is there to help you by offering advice or a comforting kiss. Although you’ve only been dating for a few months, you find that there's something special about this man.

Genre: Teacher Harry, fluff, and romance.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10.4k words, whoops

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Happy Together by The Turtles (click to listen)

Your mind is muddled with thoughts. Remember to send this email today. Make sure to put this in so-and-so’s mailbox. Don’t forget to send that birthday card in the mail. Can’t misplace that sheet you have to make copies of tomorrow for an assignment. Enter those grades. Grade those tests, and those papers. They weren’t wrong, you think, when they said the work of a teacher never ends. As you sit at your desk, the world war two novel you’ve been trying to read lately stares back at you from the sidelines, adding another stick to your pile. A rather massive pile, at that. You knead your temple as the blinking cursor awaits your words on the lit screen. Words that you don’t have yet, and aren’t sure when you will. You’ve found it more and more difficult to send the hard emails home to parents, and even after three and a half months under your belt of teaching, it hasn’t gotten any easier.

“What’d I say ‘bout bitin’ yer nails?”

Breaking your stare off with your computer, your eyes jump to your door where you find Harry standing there.

Placing your chin in your propped hand, you sigh, “I’m sorry.”

“Here, ya look like ya need sumthin’ else t’ chew on,” he murmurs, taking a step into your classroom. Something leaves his hand to fly into the air, skidding to a stop in front of you on your desk. At the sight of the shiny gold wrapper marked by the words, Twix, you return to his eyes with a smile. “Now, wha’s got ya so nervous, bird?”

“I’m trying to write an email home, and not a happy one.”

“Ah, I hate havin’ t’ write t’ose meself, they’re neva easy. Can I help?” he inquires, taking slow steps into your classroom. When your laptop sounds with a chime!, the alert for a new email, your eyes leave his tall figure.

His question goes unanswered on accident with the appearance of the email loading before your eyes. The words start to trickle into your mind, and with their absorption, the heaviness felt in your heart grows.

“Hullo? Anybody home in there?” Harry laughs, his feet stopping in front of your desk. You don’t answer, and you barely see him lean to the side to look at you. “Hey, wha’s tha matta?” he questions, his tone suddenly changing. Gulping, no words come to you as the ones on your screen shoot icy fear into your veins. Your name falls from his mouth as he walks over to you, stopping behind you.

“I have to be observed,” you groan, your face falling into your hands. “Later this week,” you finish with a whimper, your shoulders sagging.

“Oh it’ll be okay, love. We all have it done once a year, ‘s only t’ benefit ya. ‘s fer feedback. Ya don’t gotta worry. Principal’s observation ‘s at tha end o’ tha year,” he tells you, his soothing voice turning irritating at the last part. You respond with a whine, but you find that you can’t remain upset with him when his arms come around you. “Ya’ll do great, bird. Don’t fret. I know things have been stressful lately fer ya, so try not t’ let it botha you.”

“But it does. I already feel like I’m not doing a good enough job, and then somebody has to observe me, ugh. I’m going to be so nervous that I’ll probably screw up even more,” you exhale, hiding away from your fears, but soon you feel your chair spin around. Tearing your hands away from your face, you open them to find Harry squatting in front of you.

The mere sight of the dimples in his cheeks and the glint in his eye eases the tension felt throughout your body. A second later, you’re unsure of that when your sight graces the ebony dress shirt rolled up his taut arms, and the mustard slacks hugging his thighs. Yeah, there are a whole lot of reasons to make you feel tense around this man, and on the other hand he makes you feel at ease. Talk about confusing, when one thing has both effects on you. Ugh.

“Yer too hard on yerself, birdy. Ya gotta stop it, I don’t like seein’ me girl feel so down,” he hums, his thumb painted in cracking hot pink nail polish tapping your nose. Even just the thought of how he’ll let you paint his nails the next time he comes over to your house makes you feel better. By now, he doesn’t even bat an eye when you ask him, and by the look of his battered nails, anticipation grows inside of you at the thought. “Now, why don’t ya try t’ forget ‘bout tha observation, and lemme help ya write tha email t’ tha parent? Then we can leave and ya can come ova t’ mine, and I can cook ya a nice dinna.”

His lips split into a smile in front of you, sparking one on your own. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re the best boyfriend in the world?”

“Hmmm, I dunno, maybe. I can’t recall, but I wouldn’t complain t’ hear dat a few more times,” Harry smiles, leaning forward to surround your lips with his. Yours curl into a smile as his fingers dance across your cheek and into your hair.

“Harry, the email,” you begin after breaking the kiss.

“Shh, lemme have a kiss first. ‘s been too long,” he almost laughs, pressing his lips back to yours.

“I saw you in sixth hour in the copier room and you got one then,” you interrupt, knowing that you’re getting on his nerves.

“Too long,” is all he says impatiently, replacing his lips on top of yours.

Relaxing, you move yours together with his and soon find your hands running along his cheeks prickly with facial hair. They run down the expanse of his warm neck, his tamed beard soon fading away. Pads of your fingers collide with the chain of his necklace hidden under his shirt, signaling you’re almost there. You let a grin slip, impeding the kiss, when you can feel his taut chest under his button up. Finally.

“Like what yer findin’?” he asks, laughing against your mouth.

“Mmmhmm,” you answer slyly, peeking open your eyes to find his on yours, mere inches away. “Maybe we should write dat email now. Don’t wantcha gettin’ too carried away now,” Harry hums pulling away, much to your disappointment. “No, yer not gonna get me with tha pout again, so dontcha try it now.” He wags a finger at you as his words play on his face. Feeling risky, you reach forward and bite at the tip of it, smelling the cinnamon lotion he has a bottle of on his desk.

“Ya betta watch it, bird!” Harry chuckles, the smile taking grasp of him now, as well as the laugh that sings to your ears.

“Or else what?” you reply, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Open yer email befo’ ya convince me with that adorable face o’ yers.”

You ignore him and continue to stare at him, happiness and longing showing in your eyes. You’re certain that he sees it too, you’re just not sure what he’s going to decide to do with it. His bottom lip comes between his teeth as his green eyes stare into yours, him standing only a step away from you. Although it’s the slightest movement, his hands starts to trail from the back of your chair.

“Birdy,” he begins with a warning, shaking his head at you, that song leaving his strawberry lips again. Suddenly, you wish he was wearing a tie today so you could grab a hold of it and pull him in by it, but alas he’s without one today. “Don’ test me.”

His words are hypocritical, meaning one thing as his face tells you another story entirely. Somehow, they have the opposite effect on you, egging you to go further with the teasing. You enjoy pushing his buttons, another thing that he knows far too well by now. Your fingers sitting limp on your legs itch to touch him, and roam his body. Those curls, his bearded cheeks, that muscular chest, or those thick arms. Maybe even all of him.

“We can have a good snog at me house tha sooner we get dis done,” Harry cautions, only worsening the pout forming on your lips. He reacts to it promptly, with that lip-biting returning, and his fist coming to his mouth. As if he has to refrain from saying, or doing, something.

“Why can’t I just have one more now? It won’t hurt,” you plead, letting your chin fall a tad, allowing you to look up at him through your lashes.

“‘m in real trouble with ya, aren’t I, birdy? Go’mme wrapped ‘round yer li’l finga like there’s no t’morrow, dontcha?” Harry teases, slowly leaning in, his arms bending at his wrists where they lay planted to your chair’s armrests.

“Yeah, just the way you like it,” you note aloud, the anticipation buzzing in your gut as he draws near.

“Yer right ‘bout dat, darlin’. Couldn’t say no t’ ya if I tried, thinkin’ that might ge’mme in trouble one o’ these days,” Harry finishes with a snicker before the taste of oranges meets your lips, and his beard is tickling your skin. Just the way you like it.

“Ravioli or pasta?” you hear float from the kitchen.

It’s a wonder you hear him as your thoughts are consumed by his bookshelves. Although you’ve been to his place several times now, you’re still enamored by trying to familiarize yourself with the items he chose to live with him.

The acoustic Taylor sitting in the corner on a stand. The Monet prints dotting his walls, along with those of The Stones, The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, and Pink Floyd. The pink ukulele hung on his wall that he made you laugh with while playing a rendition of Somewhere Over The Rainbow the first time you came over. You swear that his blankets are the coziest and warmest. He also makes the best fires in the fireplace, even making s’mores for dessert the first time you came over, making quite the impression. The last time, you had devoured his record collection, flipping through it and playing the few that interested you at the time. You even like the silly napkins with sayings on them that he has in the kitchen. Now, you’ve returned to his book collection that seems to grow by a few each time you’re here.

“Why do you have Shel Silverstein here, but not at school?” you call out to him, feeling the change in texture of the book spines, the tip of your finger ghosting over them.

“‘Coz tha’s a copy from when I was li’l. Now, ya didn’t answer me question. Which d’ya want me t’ make, bird?” he replies gently, his deep voice carrying down the hall from the kitchen.

Once again, his words drift by unnoticed as you carefully remove a copy of a novel that catches your eye, The House on Mango Street. You’ve found it before on his shelves at school, and the cover has always enraptured you, but you’ve never found the time to pick it up. Turning it over, your eyes flit over the description on the back of the thin book.

“Hey, ‘m talkin’ t’ ya, birdy,” a voice murmurs, their words dancing across your neck with a tickle. “Tryin’ t’ figure out what t’ make us fer dinna.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just looking at this book. I’ve always meant to see what it’s about,” you comment, turning your head back ever so slightly, but you don’t need to do that to know he’s there. His arms have surrounded your waist and his beard tickles against your temple, lips soon dotting kisses along that space.

“‘s okay. Ah, so this ‘s where yer always runnin’ off t’ when ya come ova. Got meself a book worm fer a girlfriend, I like it. Findin’ anythin’ good? Ya know ya can borrow whateva ya want, love. I know ya’ll take good care o’ it,” Harry coos in between feathery pecks he plants down the side of your face. “‘s a good one too, bird. I teach it every year. Tha students enjoy it too. Ya might come t’ teach it too, I think, since we’re both teachin’ American Lit. this semester,” Harry comments, soon his nose making an appearance tickling your cheek. The words on the back of the book were beginning to blur before your eyes, but they’re forgotten altogether when his fingers brush against your belly, clasping together there.

“Thank you. I suppose I should read it already then.”

“Yeah, ‘m surprised ya haven’t already. Borrow it and take yer time with it, ya’ll enjoy it. ‘s a bit sad tho’ from what I rememba. Now, ravioli or pasta? Was thinkin’ a salad on tha side, marinated chicken, and sum berries,” he finishes, the safety his arms provide you with soon fleeting. Looking over your shoulder, he walks away and back to the kitchen, noting that he needs to get the pasta water boiling.

As your eyes trail to his bum round in his gray jogging shorts, a cheeky answer begs at your lips instead. He pipes up again with an inquisitive ‘well’ and your response falls from your lips, “Ravioli, please.”

He hums a confirmation from his new perch down the hall, the sounds of cupboards opening and things being jostled around soon following. The rest of the book’s summary passes your eyes before you set it down on the arm of the brown sofa, forgotten as soon as he had walked in. Passing Harry’s favorite reading chair in the corner accompanied by a tall lamp, you tiptoe through the narrow hallway marked by framed pictures on the walls. You hear his soft singing as you round the corner, happening upon his towering figure to your left, standing at the stove. Taking a page from his book, you slide across the wooden floor in your socks, quickly capturing him with your arms.

“Boo!” you whisper into his ear, feeling him jump in your arms.

“Don’t scare me like that, coulda burned me hand,” he warns, but when you chance a look at the pot of water below him, you find him to be a fibber.

“You don’t even have the gas on yet, silly,” you murmur in argument, dragging your nose along his freckled neck, paler from the winter months.

“So? ‘m tryin’ t’ cook here,” he argues, although terribly, because a giggle escapes his candy-like lips. Ones you very much would like to kiss right now, and perhaps taste, and nibble. Nodding into his shoulder, your hands unravel to explore the toned expanse of his stomach under his shirt. “Bird,” he says firmly, the cracking sound of the salt grinder following his words.

“I’m just helping you cook,” you explain feebly, brushing the pad of your thumb against his wispy happy trail. If you focus hard enough, you think you can remember from the times at the beach where his tattoos are, because they don’t feel any different to the rest of his skin. The fern leaves, the butterfly, and then the swallows below his collarbone.

“Yer pushin’ me buttons again. Ya know I don’ like it,” Harry grumbles, trapped within your grasp when he turns to grab the package of refrigerated ravioli from the counter.

“I’m sorry, can’t I just hug my boyfriend?” you whine, feeling your voice catch at that last word, even after two months.

“Don’t play that game with me, go read yer book or sumthin’. Catch up on sum gradin’, you’ll thank yerself later fer doin’ so, and me.”

“You’re no fun,” you whimper, hands stilling amongst his toned abdomen and soon returning to your body. Cheekily, you give in to your temptations and pinch his bum hastily, running off with a giggle.

“Birdy!” Harry calls after you, trying to hide the laugh in his voice, but you’re doing enough laughing for the both of you. You don’t hear the sound of his booming footsteps following you, and so you plop onto his sofa with a relieving sigh. “Remind me not t’ give ya more than two glasses o’ wine, ya get all weird afta two.”

“I do not!” you exclaim, pressing the power button on the remote for his tv.

“Ya do too! Grabbin’ me bum and gettin’ all handsy unda me shirt,” he contends with a scoff that dissolves into a titter. You respond with a ‘hmmph’ loud enough for him to hear as your head hits the velvet pillow at one end of the sofa, body splaying out to cover the rest.

“I’ll say it again, you’re no fun!”

“Oh, give it a rest!” is all Harry says disbelievingly, meanwhile you pout as you try to immerse yourself in an episode of The Simpsons.

It’s one of those Halloween specials, you’re not sure which one as there were several, even though Halloween was very nearly two months ago. Turning up the volume, you try to drown out the sound of pots banging together, and packages crinkling. You even attempt to mask the sound of his voice, the wine buzz securing you in your own little bubble, and a lonely one at that.

“Babeeee,” you finally hear, along with the soft padding of his slippers nearing you. “Don’ be a crab, y’know I don’ like bein’ botha’d when ‘m cookin’ sumthin’ hot. Don’ want t’ get eitha o’ us burnt. I’d do tha same if I had kids and they were ‘round,” he mumbles, his footsteps coming to a pause, and so does your heart at the sound of his words.

“Me li’l birdy,” Harry coos in a sing-song voice, the whine of the ancient wood floors marking his arrival. His calloused fingertips along your forehead and through your hair are difficult to ignore, as are his sweet lips smelling of Roscato against your skin. “Don’ be upset with me please, ya know I can’t handle it. Ya wanna come help me cook? You can chop up tha salad if ya’d like, well as long as yer hands are okay afta those glasses o’ wine.”

“Nah-ah,” you deny, rubbing your face with your hand, growing sleepy from the alcohol. “You don’t want my help, and I’m all dizzy.”

“I do want yer help, that’s why I asked. Hmm, dizzy, are you?” he queries, drawing your attention upwards to where he kneels beside the sofa, head hanging over yours. “Does this make ya dizzy too?” he grins upside down for you, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth. A smile hints at yours after the kiss ends, him raising an eyebrow.

You shake your head ‘no’ and he clucks his tongue, dipping in for another kiss, this one longer than the last. You’d choose to grow dizzy from his intoxicating lips over anything else, again and again. The bite of the alcohol follows the sweetness of the white wine he had poured you both glasses of, his still being nursed in the kitchen. The chill to his pillowy lips is shocking against your warm lips, but it’s forgotten when your fingers drift to his hair. You’ve only gotten a taste of his scrumptious top lip before he pulls away, having kissed you in an odd way, upside down.

“Ya still upset with me?” he breathes against your lips, rubbing his nose against yours ever so slightly, a smirk edging at his lips.

“I won’t be after one more kiss, and a cuddle,” you insist, testing your limits, but by now you’re fairly certain what you can get away with. Sometimes it surprises you how much, from stealing his favorite pen from his desk, grabbing his butt in the breakroom, knicking a sweater from his closet the last time you were over, or spamming him with texts of songs he wouldn’t ever listen to but he still does, for you.

“Alrighty then, c’mere, birdy,” he smiles before he melts against you in a kiss, once again.

Soon, he’s scooping his arms under your legs and settling you on his lap, sinking into the sofa. Your head finds a home below his collarbone, legs draped across his lap and your bum hanging off the side of it.

“I forgot ya get all tired on me afta alcohol. I gotta rememba t’ only dole it out when tha sun ‘s still up,” he giggles, the sound reverberating around in his broad chest under his Paul McCartney & Wings shirt. His fingers surround one of your hands, holding it to his chest as his other cups your waist where he holds you against him.

“Yeah,” you mumble softly, trying to focus on the tv show, but it’s a lost cause.

With his refreshing citrus smell enveloping you, the notes of the tangy orange he eats by sections every day clings to his skin somehow. Dreamily, you admire his neat beard for the hundredth time, smiling adoringly at the little patches he hates that don’t grow in all of the way. For some reason, you love them even more, wondering what his cheeks look like underneath all of the dark brunette hair.

The show is forgotten at the recesses of your mind, and instead, your attention revolves around Harry, much to your surprise. The rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. The scattering of ink covering both arms, top to bottom. The dark curly hair donning his chest if you nudge the collar of his shirt down far enough. Even the steady beating of his heart grabs your focus, leading you to the slight pause and wake of it at the corner of his neck. Perhaps your most favorite of all is a hard tie between watching the execution of his facial features, or playing with his hands. One he minds quite more than the other, but you think he’s starting to get used to it.

Your fingers that look puny in contrast to his run over the minuscule hairs peppered across his knuckles, yet another trait of his you adore. It’s rare there’s one you’ve found of his that you don’t enjoy immensely. They fall against his, feeling the lukewarm metal decorating his fingers, and he doesn’t even pause. Scooting your eyes away from his hands quickly, you try to forget the inviting veins bulging from his skin you so often like to get lost tracing. They flit now to the almost indiscernible dimples caving into his hairy cheeks, eyes gleaming as he titters at something on the tv. It all ends much too soon and you’re caught in the act, his gaze falling to yours.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me fer?” he wonders aloud, the space between his brow creasing. You resist rubbing it free, finding you don’t have the time to when his lips press a kiss to your nose. “Water’s boilin’, I should go start tha chicken. Ya can help if ya want, but ya don’t hafta, love. Don’ want ya cuttin’ those pretty li’l fingas o’ yers.”

A nod suffices for your imaginary words, and so does the curling of your lips that part, “I like you,” you mumble, eyes glued to him, much like a puppy dog.

“I like ya too, birdy. Quite arguably tha best thing that’s happened t’ me in a while, you are,” he rasps, voice dripping of honey at the arrival of his words. The look painting his face tells you that he knows it too, and you can taste the honey when he pecks you. “Like ya so much I can’t believe it sumtimes.”

You both knew within the first week of school that having your prep hour during the same time in fifth hour, although coincidental, was perhaps not a good idea. It was uncertain whether the demons of the world or the angels of it had arranged this, seeing as you soon distracted each other from getting much prep done for that day’s lessons, grading, what have it. The both of you got on each other’s nerves regarding it at times, him more so than you, but you’re rest assured you both were grateful for it.

Like today, you can’t stop jiggling your knee as you listen to Chopin while grading papers on the interpretable meanings of the scarlet A from The Scarlet Letter. Harry had gotten quickly upset with you yesterday when you had hogged too much of his prep hour with kissing and talking, noting that he had already been interrupted by another colleague. Today, you’re trying to give him his space to get his work done, but you find it exhausting staying away from him, much like you always do, and have to already. The temptation is even worse when he’s less than fifty steps away, and with those lips that should be downright illegal. His snap at you still stung, if only a little, and you can’t find your focus seeing that you’ve hardly seen him around today.

Sometimes you feel pathetic and he’ll joke that you are too, melting into a puddle like The Wicked Witch of the West from not having seen him enough. You know that you are, but the realization doesn’t make you feel any better. Neither do you when a second later, speak of the devil, you hear his voice outside your ajar door. It mingles with another, and this one mentions your name, you’re rather sure. Harry shushes the other person with a laugh, and when the voices have paused, you return your gaze to the marked-up paper you’re grading. Turning up the music on your desktop, you sigh as you start reading the sentence over again, for the third time.

Relief buds at the tips of your limbs as you gather your things from your desk around quarter to four, positive Harry’s after-school Poetry Club should be over by now. It’s stolen away as your fingers dangle on the handle of the door, his door closed with his nifty store-like sign turned to CLOSED. Sighing, your face creases into a messy line at the sight of it, your fingers soon composing a text to him that goes unanswered.

Looking both ways down the hall, when the coast is clear, your heels click across the hall to place you at his door. Again, it’s unlocked to allow the custodial staff to come and clean soon. Bingo! Blanketed in darkness, few streams of light make their way in past the new snow blanketing the campus grounds. You don’t need much light anyways, and after setting your things down on a desk, you settle in his chair. The squeaks are almost all the way out of it, you notice, as you pull on the chain to the vintage green lamp at the corner of his desk. A new addition. Albeit a few scattered pens and lists, it looks much the same since the last time you were in his classroom. You quickly find a pad of Post-Its, green this time, and a pen that’s a fun color. Licking your lips with an excited smile, the sadness of missing Harry is abated by getting the chance to sneak a note onto his desk, which you’ve found is far harder to do these days. You leave with a smirk donning your lips, and a few Bit-O-Honeys to tide you over until the next time.

Harry,

Do you have any plans this Saturday? I might know a certain girl who is planning on making homemade pizza, and who thought you might enjoy it. If you’d like to, I can let her know and pass your name along. I’ve heard she’s a rather good chef, just don’t get too many glasses of wine into her, or else she turns into a real fruit loop.

P.S. I wish there were words for how I feel about you, but being the English nerds we are, I think that gives you a little advantage to understand once I find those words. Have a great day, my love.

Your Birdy

xoxoxo

Huffing, you stab at the button again, but you still receive the same error message from the copying machine. Forgetting it, you log out before turning around, which wasn’t a great idea either, you find. A quiet squeal leaves your lips when you find Harry standing in front of you, grinning at his success from scaring you.

“A li’l jumpy this mornin’, are we?” he smirks, sliding his covered arms into the pockets of his gray slacks.

“Yeah, you could say that, and the copier hates me this week,” you return, walking past him and over to the shelf of supplies in containers.

“Oh, ya can use me code if that helps. Maybe it senses ya hate it,” he giggles, now behind you. Your nod suffices for a response as you drag your fingers through the sea of pens, searching for one color.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Ugh, there’s never any red pens when I need one,” you sigh, annoyed.

“Ya know ya can take one from me stash anytime ya need,” he insists, humming a tune as he taps his foot. You mumble another small ‘thanks’ before moving onto another container.

“Hey, why ya bein’ all shy?” he inquires, his gentle fingers soon encircling your wrist, turning you to face him. Again, you wonder how he can look more handsome every day, even in a dorky gray pull over vest with a cream button up underneath.

“You said we can’t do PDA in school.”

“‘s tha copier room and nobody else ‘s here, bird. ‘s fine, y’know that by now,” he argues, pulling you into his arms easily, manipulating you like soft clay. Trying and failing to hide a frown, his brow knits together in confusion. “Why ya bein’ all weird, hmm? Gonna tell me?”

“You don’t let me come and bother you during our preps anymore. You got all mad at me,” you confess blearily, letting your head come to rest on his shoulder. Hastily, you remove it and leave his arms, sure somebody will walk in the door at the least convenient second.

A laugh sings from his lips as he follows you, winding an arm around your waist. His lips are soft against your cheek, the stubble framing it becoming normal to you by now, although a scratchy nuisance. Now, he’s made his way to stand in front of you, blocking you from the packs of Crayola markers you were eyeing up for a project.

“‘m sorry I got mad, okay? Jus’ had loads o’ stuff t’ get done, knew I shouldn’t have snapped at ya, tho.’ I regret it now . . . . Will ya forgive me?” he begs, sticking out his bottom lip, making him even more irresistible and delectable. Shiny curls fall over his forehead from his mousy hair that’s shorter on the sides after his recent cut.

After checking the door, you surprise his lips with an all-forgiving smooch, welcomed by the bitter taste of black coffee on his lips. Like always, it draws to an end far too soon, and this time by the tinny ringing of the first bell.

“Betta get goin’, bird. Don’ wanna be late,” he teases, brushing his nose against yours. A short yelp escapes your lips when his hand squeezes your ass before he saunters off after another kiss.

“Harry,” you mutter, shaking your head, squeezing his hand briefly before you enter the halls together.

Although you’ve become accustomed to it, it still feels strange to slide on another mask once you step into the halls. Sometimes even the school. You feel them and you know they’re there, the stares from the students. The rumors buzzed around the beginning of the year about you and Harry, but with his help, they never got to you. Neither of you have ever confirmed anything to anybody, and luckily you haven’t had to so far, even amidst the continuing rumors.

Nonetheless, you still share with the other the stories of your students teasing the both of you about dating the other. You only fed the fire when you dressed up together for Halloween, or when your classes often combined together in the computer lab or library, or on the rare occasions, they have a large Jeopardy game or group project together. More often than you like to admit, you get carried away and entertain the freedom that would come with being able to say ‘yes’ to your students when they ask if you’re together. That would only call for one occasion, though. One that is quite far down the future road. As your eyes wander along Harry, a couple months in and you can’t deny that this isn’t just another boyfriend. No siree.

“What d’ya got on tha agenda t’day, love? Ya startin’ anythin’ befo’ break?” he asks you, pulling you from your reverie, probably for the best.

“No, we’re wrapping up the unit this week before testing next Monday on the last day. The Scarlet Letter, Frankenstein, Grammar Do’s and Don’ts, and the Transcendentalist Writers,” you explain, folding your hands together and letting them fall to the waist of your long wine-colored dress. Dark tights hug your legs, but the spotty heating inside of the school makes you miss the black cardigan sitting at your desk.

“Mmm, same here. ‘s a good day t’ do it, can’t really introduce anythin’ befo’ Christmas Break. They’ll all forget it by tha time they return in two weeks. We jus’ have a chapta left in most classes: Hemingway, To Kill A Mockingbird, Huck. Finn, and Robert Frost,” he comments, hands hidden away in his slacks. Often you’re grateful for it, the removal of the temptation for you. Then again, it tempts your eyes that like to dance across the tightness of his slacks, but you quickly avert them.

“That’s good, only three more school days counting today, and one more until my observation,” you huff, finding it arduous to keep the nerves surrounding the event at bay.

“You’ll do fine, love, I keep tellin’ ya that. Ya gotta believe me one o’ these times,” Harry coos, coming to a stop when you round the corner, your classrooms only a few steps away. To your surprise, his long fingers spread warmth across your skin with a pat to your arm, a rare one at that. “Have a good day, don’ let tha kids get t’ ya yet. Only a few days left. ‘ll talk t’ ya later.”

“Thanks, I hope you have a good day too,” you echo, containing the smile you send him halfheartedly, always careful about how you act towards each other around students. He winks at you quickly before turning away with that delightful smile playing around his lips, making you wonder how long again until you can kiss them.

His luscious curls make your fingers itch to touch them, but as you linger in your doorway watching him, you know that you’ll have to wait. After biding your time for a few seconds for the students to leave him after receiving help, with a mental shrug you decide you’ll wait. Soon, you find yourself in the office. Colleagues meander around the room, the secretary speaks on the phone, and a parent or two or waits for them. After a few smiles and greetings, you arrive at your mailbox. First, you pluck the bag of Bit-O-Honeys from your pocket, sticking them in his box with a note already taped to them. After fishing out the few papers sitting in there, your hand brushes against something on the bottom, but you don’t see anything when you look again. With a quirked brow, you stand on your tippy toes, spotting a lime green Post-It note stuck to the bottom piece of wood. A smile quickly consumes your face as you pluck it from there, sticking it to the first paper on top of your pile, not wanting to raise any kind of suspicion. You and Harry do your best to be extra careful, not wanting to give anybody a reason to pry, and by now you’re both positive nobody has any true reason to doubt your story.

Your heels dig into the sides of your feet after your long day, making you quicken your pace back to your classroom. The frown creasing your features is soon replaced with that grin from before when you turn into your classroom, finally taking a peek at the note.

Birdy-

You’re not very good at this whole Christmas list thing, are you? I’m still wondering what you’d like. Mind helping a silly old man out before the holiday rolls around? I hope your day is going swell. Don’t hesitate to come and say hi during prep, you know you’re always welcome. You’re the best kind of distraction, you’re just a little too good at it sometimes ;) You’re looking too gorgeous in that dress today, and so I’ll need you to stop by so I can give you a proper snog in private, pronto.

Harry xxxx

P.S. - Homemade pizza sounds lovely, I can’t wait. You spoil me (:

P.P.S - You have no idea how much you mean to me, bird xo

“Verdict on tha possibility o’ that snog?” somebody murmurs, their voice followed by the soft whoosh of your door closing. To no surprise, Harry leans against the door unable to hold back the happiness showing on his face.

“I think it’s a yes,” you answer slowly, placing the stack of things on your desk, but not moving an inch. You want to toy with him and make him work for it, but as always, you can’t resist him.

“How was yer day?” he mumbles once your arms come around his middle, brushing against the knit sweater vest. Sometimes he dresses like older colleagues and other days like his young age, but nonetheless you can’t help but think he’s the best dressed of any male teachers here at the school. He’s just too goddamn handsome that he can pull off anything.

“Good, we finished all of our readings in my classes. I get to be observed doing review tomorrow, so I hope the observer likes my Jeopardy games,” you comment, slipping your hands under the fabric, feeling the warmth projected from his body.

“‘m sure they will, love, ‘s a good idea ya came up with. I know it took loads o’ work doin’ four o’ ‘em fer tha four different classes ya have throughout tha day. What time ‘s yer observation, ya neva said?”

“It’s during my fourth hour, before lunch,” you answer, him humming a short reply. “You really think I look that nice in this dress? I thought I looked frumpy and too tall,” you question, pursing your lips as you take a look at your long plain dress.

“Yes, think ya look amazin’, bird. Couldn’t keep my eyes off o’ ya all day wheneva I saw ya. Yer gonna make me slip up one o’ these times, and make me blow our cover,” Harry snickers, stepping forward to sink his fingers into your hair, a thumb falling to address your cheek. A knowing smirk tempts your lips, and it only worsens when his tongue comes out to run over his. “Think ya know that already, tho’ - y’know what ya do t’ me, dontcha?”

You silently shake your head, but the smile makes an appearance, and your lie is free to the air. His breathy laugh mingles with it before he takes them away, scooping your top lip between his. His kisses fill you with a warm giddiness, one that leads your hands to leave his strong back, and wander down him. Juice from the orange he must have just eaten trickles onto your lips, meanwhile your fingers dip into his pants, just brushing the top of his clothed bum.

Harry breaks the kiss suddenly, but you’re already giggling. So far, all you receive is an eyebrow raise from him, but his toasty hands don’t leave your cheeks. His gleaming rose lips part, “What’d I say ‘bout those hands o’ yers? Lookie here, they’re gettin’ you in trouble ‘gain,” he tuts, your left cheek soon cold as he wags a finger at you.

“You never said I couldn’t, and your bum just looks so nice today- well, every day,” you counter, feeling cheeky. His eyes dart from yours as blush rises to his cheeks, pulling up the corners of his mouth along with it.

“Bird,” he giggles, eyes soon returning to yours. “I dunno what ‘m gonna do with you,” he coos gently, cupping your cheek once more with his long fingers, returning his lips to yours for a kiss. His smile is felt upon yours and you find out why when his tongue prods at your lips, begging for entrance. As your hand slides down to caress his bum, your lips part to let him in.

Day after day, you wonder just when it was that you let him into your heart, seeing how he’s made a home in there. You just hope he’ll never want to leave. More and more often lately, you keep thinking that you’d like him to stay there, perhaps for forever.

With chattering teeth and a frozen nose, you only start to warm up once you unlock the door to your room, grateful to get to spend the upcoming weekend inside your cozy home. Thoughts of the cute knit hats Harry wears and how he finds you adorable with your rosy cheeks and button nose pull your eyes to his door. Sighing, you unwrap your scarf, discovering he hasn’t came in yet this morning. Yet another thing to add to his list of acting odd lately at times. Even though you spoke to him through a few texts this morning, you long to hear his voice comfort you about your dreaded observation later today. Unbeknownst to you, he has this magical quality to him that never fails to calm you down, or to make things better. Yet another thing you love about him, you think with a smile, unloading your messenger bag of the materials you bring back and forth from school.

Once that’s all unpacked and you remember to turn on the lights, as well as the blinking Christmas lights strewn around your room, you get an idea. Pushing his door open, you pull on the gold metal chain of his lamp, your hands drifting to the green Post-Its. The pen slides from your fingers when somebody surprises you with a loud ‘boo!’

“Harry, stop,” you giggle, briefly glancing to the doorway to find him in his puffy black coat.

“Would ya look at that, I caught ya in tha act. It won’t be much o’ a surprise now,” he titters, softly closing the door behind himself, the hallways beginning to abate their previous silence.

Shrugging, you pick the pen back up and start to scribble down a note while you still have a few precious seconds left. Smirking, you release your lip you bite on to speak, “I got here before you today, that’s a point for me. I think we’re three-two now for this week,” you tease him, listening to the slushy scuffle of his leather boots along the floor.

“Ya, I hadda busy mornin’, had sumthin’ important t’ do. Can ya guess what it was?” he murmurs, appearing behind you suddenly, his cheek rubbing against yours softly. A long ‘sure’ falls from your lips, but it comes up short when you think about the sensation of his cheek against your face. It’s smooth and warm, and not hairy.

“Wait a minute,” you announce, pulling away from him and turning around in his chair to look at him. Seconds after your jaw dropped to your chest, your hand flies to your mouth at the sight of him freshly shaven. “Harry, your face!” For the first time, you finally get to see his dimples on full display, collapsing into his round smiling cheeks. A long giggle escapes them as he runs a hand over them.

“What d’ya think o’ me all clean shaven? Haven’t seen me without a beard, have ya, bird?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow as a cocky smirk creases his pink cheeks. Within seconds, you’re on your feet and feeling his satiny cheeks under your palms.

“They’re so smooth, I like them. You look so nice, well I liked you before with a beard too. You’re so handsome either way,” you croon, leaning in to kiss him, tasting the spearmint toothpaste he uses. Your lips wander to his cupid’s bow, the slope below his bottom lip, and across the expanses of his grinning cheeks.

“Stop,” he giggles, his hands finding a home on your waist, but he’s hard to believe as he leans into your lips. “Don’t think I look weird or less handsome without a beard, d’ya now?”

“No, you never could. Mmmm, I like kissing all over your cheeks,” you hum in between kisses, the musky smell of his shaving cream tickling at your nose.

“Thanks, bird, ‘m glad t’ hear that. Now, lemme read dis note ya left, ‘m curious now.”

Much to your disappointment, his face soon leaves the clutches of your kisses, him trailing to his desk. Although whining at his absence, you let him, and instead you admire his adorable cheeks. It takes everything inside of you to hold yourself back from pinching them and kissing them. Hints of denial and shock come over you again, unsure of what you’re seeing at times. Never in the last seven-ish months since you truly met Harry, have you seen him without his beard. It’s kind of startling, but you know that he has you wrapped around his finger as well, because it unmistakingly makes you love him even more. Sometimes you wonder how that’s possible, even if you’ve only been official for a few months.

“Why the change?” you wonder aloud, eyes glued to him as his scan over the note you didn’t get to finish. Lifting his glowing eyes to you, those greens stare back at you, and again you’re knocked off your feet by him.

“Why not,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, holding up the note. “Ya didn’t finish, y’know. Ya started t’ declare yer love fer me and all that jazz, and it ended in tha middle o’ a sentence. Not very proper fer an English teacher, y’know,” he pouts, dragging his feet over to you after his sarcastic words.

“Well, you didn’t let me finish,” you reply, surrounding his middle once he’s in reach.

“D’ya care t’?” he whispers against your mouth, his lips ghosting over yours. This man really does know what he’s doing.

“No thanks, I’m not a ‘put me on the spot’ type of gal.”

“Ah, you aren’t, are ya? Tha’s a new one,” he grins, laying kisses to your cold cheeks, spreading warmth in his trail.

“Maybe you could tell me something, though.”

“Hmm?” he hums, the feeling of his smooth skin rubbing against yours entirely new to you, but you think you could get used to it.

“Could you tell me that I’m worrying about my observation for nothing?”

His kisses come to an unnecessary end, but in the end you’re grateful to see his green eyes again, and all of the love they hold.

“Ya are worryin’ ‘bout it fer nuthin’, bird. Promise ya yer gonna do great, ‘m so proud o’ you and tha great teacher ya’ve become,” he coos above you, tapping his finger to your nose. The words settle inside of you and begin to sink in. “And ‘m not jus’ sayin’ that, hope ya know how much I mean it.”

You tried, and failed, to keep Harry’s words at the front of your mind throughout your day. When the worries would bubble up, you’d try to make them go away with his reassuring voice saying them. At times, it was strenuous, and quickly the idea of eating lunch after your observation seemed ridiculous. That word seemed to align with your day soon, seeing as the powerpoint for Jeopardy wouldn’t work at first, but you blamed the projector. Then as the minutes ticked by and brought you closer and closer to eleven o’clock, shakes started to radiate throughout your body. Your hands grew clammy and you wish it was over with before it even started.

Your students for British Literature soon shuffled in, dropping backpacks on the floor with groans, itching for Christmas Break to come as well. You can’t help but agree with them, reminding them of this once they’re all seated and the last bell has rung. Inside your chest, your heart feels like it’s trying to break free from its cage as you anticipate a random colleague walking through your door.

“Hello, everybody. We finished reading Frankenstein yesterday, and to prepare for our test on Monday, we’re going to do some review. I know you all have come to enjoy my Jeopardy games, so I made one for Frank and-,” your introduction to your class is cut off by a knock on your classroom door, making your heart jump inside your chest. “Excuse me, let me just get that first.” With a deep breath, you hurry to get the door, and that breath goes flying out the window when you see who’s on the other side. His name falls from your lips at the sight of him, a clipboard hugged to his chest.

“Hi, ‘m here t’ observe you fer tha duration o’ yer lesson,” Harry announces, a professionalism coming over his voice, yet a cheekiness is heard at the edge of it.

“You’re observing me?” you ask breathlessly, earning a proud nod from him. “O-okay.”

“Yer gonna do great, don’ worry ‘bout me. Jus’ ignore me sittin’ in tha back,” he whispers, his warm smile holding more words than the both of you know he can say right now. After a squeeze to your arm, he slips past you into the classroom, flared maroon pants billowing behind him. “Hullo, e’rybody. ‘m Mr. Styles from across tha hall, I also teach English here. Don’ mind me, ‘m jus’ observin’ yer lovely teacher fer a colleague review t’day. Carry on,” Harry says, addressing your class. Swallowing, the butterflies take a peek from their safety inside your chest, soon taking flight to rid you of your worries.

“As I was saying, I made a Jeopardy game for Frank that we’ll play to review for the test on Monday,” you continue, folding your hands together to sit below your waist. You smile when the class erupts in applause, and even more so when your eyes flit to Harry whose found an empty desk at the back of the room. His head of curls lifts from being bent over the clipboard he writes on, sending you an encouraging wink. “So let’s take attendance to see how many there are of all of you, and I’ll split you up into teams. Then we can get started,” you finish, feeling his eyes on you. Although the pressure is still there, you feel at home in his presence and you don’t even mess up once during your lesson.

Even if you had, you’re sure he could’ve fixed it with the winks, thumbs ups, and heart wrenching smiles he sends you from across the room.

“So how did you manage observing me when you had a class during fourth, too? And how’d I do by the way?” you begin, wandering into Harry’s open classroom, the hallways almost empty after the end of the school day. Stopping in your tracks, confusion washes over you when the seat at his desk is empty. It would seem likely he had only stepped out, but it only gets weirder when his long coat isn’t found draped over his chair. “Okay then,” you mumble, returning to your classroom with questions blooming inside of you.

Thoughts are recalled in your mind about how odd Harry’s acted on a few occasions lately, namely his unusual disappearances after school. It’s hard to ignore as you work on the last few questions for the test for sophomore American Lit. You’re trying to think of questions from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself, switching tracks after just focusing on Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Self-Reliance. Although not news to you, you steal a glance across the hall at his classroom that still lays undisturbed, longing for his help with a good Whitman question. Soon, you find your phone in your hands, typing up a text to him asking him where he is, because you need his help. Before exiting your messages, the gray thought bubble appears with an ellipsis, indicating his typing. You wait for a response, but after close to a minute, you forget your phone on your desk nearby.

Giving up, your attention wanders to your staff email. You occupy your time answering a few parent emails, then some staff emails, and reading the important ones from the principal regarding Christmas Break. Your eyes grow far more tired at the sight of one from him about upcoming final exams in January, a time that seems far off from now. As a teacher now, you know that’s not true, and you always have to be ahead of the game. It’s yet another thing you want to rack Harry’s brain about, unsure of how to even create a final, and what to include on it. All you can think of is how much you despised final exams in high school and university, finding little worth in them. You know that you don’t want to be hard on your students, because a cumulative exam is difficult, and a regular exam already is as well. While your desktop plays Disney and Pixar piano instrumentals, your thoughts drift to the few teachers you had who made their final exam less intimidating. Whether it was a test on just the most recent unit you learned, the last book you read as a class, or something silly like throwing wadded up paper balls into the recycling from ten feet away.

Quickly, they’re disturbed by the twinkling of your cell phone, buzzing along your desk. A budding warmth trickles into your limbs when you see on it the goofy picture of Harry from a day at the beach last summer. New freckles covering his tanned skin, and all pink sunglasses donning his eyes.

“Hey, where’d you escape to?” you answer casually, dragging your mouse over to pause your music, coming across a song from the movie Up.

“Oh erm, had t’ run a quick errand. ‘m on me way back tho’, so what’re ya doin’?” Harry replies, clearing his throat which he never does, only when he’s nervous. You try to listen into his voice closer, but you don’t hear anything else besides that, so you try to push it away.

“Finishing up my Transcidentalism Writers test. I was wondering what would be a good question, in your opinion, from Whitman’s Song of Myself?” you pose to him, your other hand falling from your computer mouse to prop your chin up.

“Hmmm, tha’s a good question,” he titters, another sound echoing his words, but you can’t make out what it is in the background. “Ya could do a question ‘bout tha theme o’ tha poem, examples o’ figurative language, or ya could have a short response question where they summarize tha poem in their own thoughts, I s’pose. Ya could even- Shhh,” he finishes. He only makes you grow more and more curious as to what’s going on, and why you hear a whine in response.

“Who are you talking to?” you laugh, narrowing your eyes at the wall you stare at lazily while talking to him.

“Oh nobody, nobody. Do those erm questions help? Ya like ‘em, bird?” he responds hastily, brushing the strange occurrence away.

“Okay, whatever you say, and yeah they help. Thank you.”

“Welcome. ‘m almost t’ me classroom, so ‘ll see ya soon, kay?”

“Okay,” you tell him before he hangs up.

Yawning, you turn back to your computer and quickly write down those ideas in a Notepad document before you forget them. You’re in the middle of typing up the idea for a short response question when there’s a knock at your classroom door. Turning your head, you don’t see anybody at first, so you revert your attention back to your typing.

“Yeah, who’s there? Harry, is that you?” you reply, your fingers dancing along the keyboard swiftly.

“No, ‘s me,” Harry’s voice replies, but it’s distorted to sound different from his. It’s more high-pitched, very near to that of a child. Giggling, you look back over to your doorway to find a surprise. “Hi, ‘m a puppy. ‘m a Golden Retriever mix. I jus’ got adopted by me new daddy, Harry.”

“Oh my goodness!” you exclaim, hands flying to your mouth at the most adorable sight indeed. Held in Harry’s two hands, a tan Golden puppy is suspended in the air in your doorway. His tiny furry body squirms in your boyfriend’s hands, a short yip leaving his little mouth. “Harry!” you cry, rooted to your spot. Another exclamation leaves your lips when a yawn leaves the little puppy’s mouth, and then again when his long wagging tail enters your view.

“‘m only eight weeks and daddy jus’ go’mme, so I don’ have a name yet, but ‘s nice t’ meet you. Me daddy ‘s thinkin’ o’ namin’ me Gatsby afta his favourite book. Whoops, I wasn’t s’posed t’ tell ya that, daddy says ya were s’posed t’ guess that on yer own. Anyways, my daddy and I wanted t’ ask you if ya’ll be my new mummy? He was also wonderin’ if ya wanted t’ come an’ live with us, since daddy told me yer lease ‘s up soon. I dunno what dat ‘s, but what d’ya say? I know we’d have loads o’ fun togetha, and ‘m jus’ so darn cute!” Harry continues in his child-like voice, speaking for the new puppy. Tears soon blur your eyes, but you blink them away quickly so as to not lose sight of the irresistible puppy.

“Harry!” you cry, getting to your feet and dashing in your heels to the doorway, finding him bringing the puppy to his chest.

“Hi, birdy. I see ya’ve met me new puppy, or . . our new puppy,” he smirks before you, hitting you with another wave of emotions at his darling words. “Sorry, I didn’t tell ya ‘bout him sooner. This ‘s what’s been takin’ up all me time dis week, and it all happened so fast. Wanted t’ surprise ya, and I think ‘s safe t’ say I have,” he chuckles, removing a hand from around the puppy’s pink belly to wipe the tears from under your eyes.

“It’s okay. Oh my goodness, look at him,” you almost whine in that voice you use around babies, bringing your hands to his fluffy fur. He turns his head towards you and his tiny black nose wiggles as he sniffs at the air around you. “Hi, little guy. Can I be your new mummy, is that okay with you?”

“‘Course it ‘s, was kinda bettin’ on it. Knew ya’d be a good mummy . . . Wish I could bring him t’ school on Monday, but my sista said she’d take him fer tha day,” Harry coos, lifting your head with his voice. One of those big crinkly-eye smiles claims his face, disappearing from view when he presses a kiss to your lips. Your lips move with his, fingers getting lost in his hair, but it’s over quickly when you start to hear barking below you. “Heeeeey, ‘s okay, li’l guy. I can kiss mummy, if I want t’. What d’ya think, Gatbsy, hmmm? Mummy said she’d make us pizzas t’morrow. Already turnin’ out t’ be a good mummy, isn’t she now?”

Laughs coat the both of your lips as he lifts the puppy into the air for the both of you to look at. They echo throughout the room when Gatsby wiggles in his arms, moving his gangly legs wildly as if trying to swim through the air.

“Oh, Harry,” you sigh, encircling his middle with your arms. The puppy returns to his side, and his left arm wanders to around your shoulders. His lips are cold against your forehead when they press a smooch there. You can’t help but to laugh again when the puppy inches over to you, sniffing all over you, long arms dangling over Harry’s. He reaches your face and begins to lick kisses along your cheeks, soon crawling into your arms with Harry’s help.

“I think he likes his new mummy, I can’t blame him.”

“Oh I love him already,” you confess, losing your fingers in his long fur around his face, ears flopping all over the place. “And his daddy,” you blurt out, widening your wet eyes once the words escape your lips. Glancing over to Harry, somehow that smile has grown even larger, adorned by a fresh wash of pink along his cheeks.

“You love me?” he murmurs slowly, hand soft against your shoulder, pressing you to his chest. You pause, unsure of how to read his reaction, but the sudden doubt falls away. You’re nodding before the words come, and you already see the effect they have on him.

“Yeah, I know it’s only been a few months, but I do . . I love you, Harry,” you divulge, clutching the puppy to your chest who still spills kisses along your face and neck, licking up the tears that run down your cheeks.

“I think he’s gonna hafta contain himself and gimme a turn kissing his mum . . ‘coz I love ya too, birdy, so much,” Harry hums, the smile leaking into his voice. You can even taste it on your lips when his touch yours, massaging yours gently, the smooth feeling of his skin still a surprise to you.

“And, Harry?” you whisper, his eyes falling to yours, mumbling a question in response. “I’d love to move in with the two of you . . my boys,” you finally answer, watching the smile hike further up his cheeks. His delightful giggle surrounds you and soon a sweet yipping followed by puppy kisses to the both of your happy faces.

Yeah, you could get used to this, all of it.

127 notes · View notes

havethetimeofyourstyles · 5 years ago

Text

You and Me

Thank you to @msmarian94 for requesting this!

This was kinda rough lol, but hope you all enjoy!

*gif not mine*

You’ve kind of always been the shy type.

Ever since you were younger, you’ve always sat on the sidelines, watching your classmates play on the playground as the teacher’s encouraged them to “stop running!” You’ve developed some sort of FOMO (fear of missing out) from being so shy and socially awkward.

Social anxiety really got the best of you during middle school and high school. Although you’ve made one good friend, Isabel, that stuck with you through it all, you’ve never really branched out to make new friends because you didn’t know how or what would be a good conversation started.

You were gorgeous—are gorgeous. Many people knew that too. You were a bit oblivious to it all; how people would stare at you, and many guys you used to go to school with, used to try and talk to you. And oblivious to just simply how gorgeous you are. But then again, your social anxiety got the best of you.

Then came around college. You didn’t have to freak out just yet because you and Isabel were going to the same college for only two years, but it’s when uni started that made you freak out a bit. Isabel was going to school in Ireland for business as you were still in London studying for journalism.

Uni was the time you had to break out of shell. It was definitely hard to though. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. You’re practically in a new environment and you knew no one. Everyone that you passed by seemed like they knew someone. That made you a bit sad and frustrated.

Your roommate was nice to you, that was a plus. She would always invite you to parties on school night, which you kindly decline, saying you had a paper to write or a book to read, which is true 90% of the time. Other 10% is that it’s not really your scene. You’d rather stay in than go out, and you don’t see a problem with that. You’d also get a chance to call your family almost every night, and you can admit you’re getting homesick.

“Love, you need to go out! Stop trapping yourself in that dorm of yours or you might go crazy.”

“I-It’s hard, Mum. You know how I am.” You frown to yourself as you hear your mother sigh on the phone.

“I sure do, but how will you ever get out of that shell if you don’t try?”

You were sat outside of a cafe that’s close to the dorms. Your last class had cancelled and so you decided to take advantage of the nice weather London offered only a few times of the year. As you scanned over your notes and back to your laptop, someone cleared their throat causing you to cut your focus.

“Uh, hi. I don’t want to be that person, but seeing as there are no seats available inside and your table seems like the only one with a chair empty. D-do you mind if I sit here?” The stranger smiled softly. He was very attractive, you have to admit. He had a bit of a softness to him that you liked. This also could be a very great opportunity to practice your social skills, and who knows, maybe you’ll befriend this guy.

You nod. “Sure!” You say too excitedly for your liking. “I-I mean, yeah, okay, uh, yeah.” You say in a more lower tone. He chuckles a bit at your fumble of words and takes a seat. You quickly move your folders and book out of the way and set them on your lap.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” Harry reaches out his hands, which you gladly take, proceeding to tell him your name and that it’s a pleasure meeting him. In which, he smiles.

“What are you studying for anyway?” Harry asks.

“Oh, uh, basically reading stuff about American literature. Proper boring if I’m being honest.” You say shyly.

“Yeah, I remember taking American literature. Wasn’t my go to, that’s for sure.”

“What about you? What are you studying?”

“Actually, I’m not in school anymore. I graduated about 2 and half years ago.” Harry says and you’re shocked. He looks about your age and he looks insanely good.

“What? What are you blushing about?” You hadn’t even realized you were blushing, making you blush even more out of embarrassment. “C’mon, tell me.” He says as he flashes his beautiful, dimpled smile at you.

“Uh, it’s embarrassing.” You put your head down, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Alright, I won’t push ya to it.” He smirks.

You simply went to the cafe to utilize the extra free time you had for studying and writing your paper, but that time was used talking to Harry and getting to know him, and vice versa. You’ve come to find out that he’s a sweet and down to earth person. He doesn’t push or nag you about personal things that people love to talk to strangers about, and you appreciate that.

Instead, you both talk about school and work, which you’ve come to find out that he works in a big marketing business. And you realized that he’s kind of perfect for that job. He loves to talk and talks with enthusiasm, which you think he’s fit for. You talk about hobbies: he loves to write and read on the side, and he loves to sing and play the guitar. The taste in music and movies: he loves the oldies. Anything from Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones, Donny Hathaway, Van Morrison, you name it. He’s also a sucker for a good romcom.

You realized that it was getting rather late, and as you were collecting your stuff, you were getting a bit sad having to leave and stop talking to him.

“It was nice talking to you.” Harry says as you stand up and give him a smile

“You too, Harry.”

“I’ll see you when I see you.”

It was two months later when you saw Harry again. You decided to take a stroll in the park, thankful for the sunny weather again. Your earphones are in as you listen to a recent podcast you found interesting on the science of being transgender. It was something your friend sent you and it’s always great to be educated.

You take in the scenery in front of you with your hands in your cardigan pocket as you walk on the gravel cement. You people watch as you watch parents play with their kids and people jogging passed you. And a specific person you think looks very familiar.

A person looking very familiar walking towards you.

You take your headphone out. “Uh, hi Harry.”

He looks at you with bright eyes and gives you a big smile. “Oh my god, hi! How are you?” He gives you a hug, which you gladly to hug him back.

“I’m good, I’m good. Just here for a walk. How’ve you been?”

“Likewise, but I’ve been okay. To be honest, I was kind of regretting not asking for your number after we met.” He says shyly.

You blush. “Oh, wow. Uh, did you still want it?”

“I’d love to have it.” You gladly exchange numbers and proceed walking together in the park.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You look at him with shocked eyes.

“Y-you want to go on a date? With me?” You say nervously.

“Just said that, didn’t I?” He chuckles.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’d love to.” He smiles.

“Great.”

You’d thrown clothes and put them back on the hangers until you found the perfect outfit to wear. You wore a simple black, two piece skirt outfit with a chunky cardigan, and a bit of a heel. Makeup was always minimal, sticking to only mascara and eyebrow gel, knowing full well you don’t know how to do a full face.

“You look amazing tonight. I mean you look great all the time, but you really do look great.” Harry says as he’s sitting across you with a menu in his hands.

“Thank you, Harry. You look great too.” He smiles and looks back down at the menu as you do too.

“This place is quite the scene.” You say.

“I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“You could’ve taken me anywhere and I would’ve loved it.”

You notice some people look at you in the most rude way possible, knowing you don’t fit into the scene. Harry notices the way people look at you, and you noticing how they look at you both.

“Hey.” You’re quick to bring your attention back to him and turn your head to look at him. “Don’t worry about them, okay? It’s just you and me tonight.” You nod your head and smile at him. It’s just the two of you.

After a successful first date, you’re giddy about him. I mean, who wouldn’t after? You’ve come to find out he’s a bit older than you. As you’re only 20, you find out he’s 25, working for a big marketing company. You’re slightly intimidated by that, but he reassures you it’s just fine, and he likes you for you, not your age.

After the second date, you feel as if you’re falling for him. It’s quite early on, but you’ve never experienced this before and with texting him almost every second of the day, you can’t help it. At the end of the date, he drops you off at your dorm.

Harry on the other hand, has quite fallen for you too. People are always so skeptical about ages, but he simply doesn’t care. That’s just something people are going to throw at you both if you proceed to date. It’s been quite a while since he’s done the whole dating thing, and he thinks it seems so right with you. Even though it’s only the second date.

“I had a lovely time tonight. Always do when I’m with you.” He says as holds your hand and doesn’t let go, as you’re both standing in front of your door.

“Me too. Thank you for tonight.” He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses it. You smile, which then leads to him smiling. He pulls you in for a hug and you hug him tightly, not wanting the night to end. Harry pulls back and brushes the hairs out of your face and behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers as he looks at your lips. You’re frozen, shocked by his request.

“I-okay. I, uhm, I’ve never actually kissed someone before.” He looks you in the eye, finding some sort of lie in them, but finds that you’re actually telling the truth.

“No worries. I’ll just kiss you here,” he kisses you on the forehead. “And here.” He moves down to your nose. “And here.” He shifts to your left cheek. “And another one right here.” He proceeds over to the other cheek. Harry pulls away and look at your with glimmering eyes; the one that you’ve fallen for and it makes your heart burst. And the next thing you know, you’re pulling his arm and your lips connect with his. The kiss lasts for about 7 seconds. You’re both just enjoying the feel of each other with the most romantic gesture. You let go and open your eyes, seeing as he’s slowly opening his. He gives you a smile as he caresses your cheek.

“I’ve been waiting for that.”

Just a week after, you and Harry went on your third date to the local fair. It was by far your favorite date as you ate kettle corn, funnel cakes, and anything greasy you can imagine. You both played games and went on rides. After you won the round of shooting the water into the little hole, he saw the bright look on your face and how you lit up when you’re happy, so he couldn’t help but ask.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” You stopped jumping and looked at him.

“Did you just ask what I think you asked?”

“I sure did.”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” He nods happily. “And you want me to be your girlfriend?” He nods again.

“I really like you. I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. So...”

“Yes! Yes, of course!” You throw your arms around him and give him a big hug as he kisses your shoulder.

A few months after you and Harry made it official, you both couldn’t get enough of each other; always finding time to hang out with each other and go on dates. You’ve learned so much about him and he, you. It was pure bliss and happiness. You’ve never been so happy before. Naturally, your parents and Isabel asked you questions about him. Of course, mentioning the obviously that he was a bit older, but you shook it off because Harry is overall such a gentleman.

You and Harry were leaning on about a year and two months of being together and you still can’t believe the love he gives you. It’s definitely something you’re still not used to. You truly could not have asked for a better boyfriend.

Harry feels over the moon about you. He would do anything and everything for you without hesitation. Even though you would tell him not to, he doesn’t mind. He loves spoiling you with the love that you deserve. He loves everything about you. From when you blush shyly at the compliments he showers you with to the way you look when he’s deep inside of you, making you feel amazing.

He was kind of on the edge when you told him that you wanted him to make you feel good and finally have sex since it was your first time, but you reassured him that you’d want him and only him to make you feel at bliss.

Harry had invited you to a work party as his company was celebrating 40 years. To say the least, you were nervous. You had to make a good impression on his co-workers and his boss. He’s a big name of the company and has brought many successes over the years of being there, so you have to make yourself worthy of the big shot that he is.

The venue was rather nice. It was decorated with pretty light on the ceiling and dim lights with music playing in the background. People dressed amazingly as they held their drinks in one hand and greeting people with the other.

“Ah, Harry! There you are, was waiting for you to show up.” A man with black and gray hair, and beard greeted Harry.

“I’ve made it and I’ve brought the girlfriend. Daniel, meet my girlfriend.” Daniel put his hand out. “This is my boss.” You gladly shake his hand.

“Harry’s good at what he does. Keep him on his feet, will ya?” You chuckle.

“Will do. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Well, gotta go say hi to more people and make my rounds. Harry, lets have a drink later. And the missus, it was a pleasure.” You and Harry smile and bid him a ‘see you later.’

An hour or two into the party, you encouraged Harry to go and mingle, saying you didn’t mind sitting here. He gives you a kiss, saying he promised he would be back in 30, which you tell him to take his time.

“So Harry, how did you meet your girl?” Daniel asks as he takes a sip from his drink.

“We met outside of a cafe and I asked if I could sit with her. Then I saw her again two months later, and asked her out on a date.” He smiles, thinking back at the memory and start of your relationship.

“Ahh. That’s nice. Cliche, but nice. What does she do if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No, not at all. She’s actually still in school. This is her last year before she starts working, but she does intern at the publishing house.”

“Oh. She’s still in school?” Hart nods. “How old is she anyways?”

“S-She’s 21. Why?” Harry asks skeptically.

“It’s just that—don’t you think she’s a little young for you?” Daniel raises his eyebrows.

“Young? She’s only like 5 years younger than me.” Harry tries to stay calm as he explains, even though he knows he doesn’t have to.

“I’m just saying. What will happen if you’re what, 30? What will happen if you want to settle down and she doesn’t? She’d be at the peak of her life! She wouldn’t want to settle right away anyways. You’re obviously not getting any younger. All I’m saying is that: do you see a future with her and if she’s even worth it to wait for?”

The last part seemed like it was shade thrown at you. Harry is a very patient man. It takes a lot for him to get mad—furious. He clenches his fist, trying to maintain an appropriate attitude. He could say a whole lot to his boss right now, but again, that’s his boss. So Harry just stays quiet, hoping you’re having a better time than he is.

And you’re not.

During that time Harry was talking to Daniel, you were glad Harry was mingling at his work party while taking sips of his drink. Two ladies took a seat right next to you and you turn to look at them.

“H-Hello.” You say nervously. One of the girls raised her eyebrows.

“Are you Harry’s girlfriend?” The other asked.

“Yeah, I am.” You give them a soft smile.

“Tragic.” She replied with a low tone, but you heard her clear.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“I said that’s tragic.” She says in a more loud and clear voice. You give them a confused look. “It’s only tragic because he could do so much better than you.” She looks you up and down, and your face drops and you wish Harry could come over and interrupt. But they’re not wrong, are they? These two girls are drop, dead gorgeous as they wear low cut dresses that hug their body making them look even more sexier—attractive. And then there’s you.

You thought you had cleaned yourself up pretty well. You decided to step it up in the makeup department and tried out some basic eyeshadow. You still stuck with mascara and eyebrow gel, and finished it with a gloss. Your dress is a white halter dress that goes just above your knees as it shows your back, and flows out slightly. Your shoes are 2 to 3 inches of nude heels.

“And aren’t you a little too young to be in this place? You’re, what, 18?”

“I’m actually 21.” You say softly.

“Aww, that’s cute! Barely pass the drinking age in the states. Very cute.” They say sarcastically. You frown, trying not to cry. This is part of the reason you hated social events or parties. People can say some really rude shit and you’re there to just take it. You’ve never been a fighter and you don’t want to be, so you’re sat there, not trying to make a scene.

“Ladies.” Harry thankfully arrives just before you’re about to burst into tears. “How are you doing? Jenna, Mila?”

“We’re doing great, Harry!” Their voice suddenly changing. “We’re just having a chat with you’re lovely girlfriend.” They look at you in an almost threatening way, but back at Harry with dreamy eyes.

“Lovely, isn’t she? Beautiful thing, she is.” He looks at you with admiration and love, and it’s comforting—familiar.

“The loveliest.” They say in a fake tone.

“Well, we’re just about ready to head out. Hope you both enjoy the rest of your evening.” Your mine blocks out whatever they had said and whatever had happened from the time you left the party to the time you arrived at Harry’s.

“Did you enjoy the party?” Harry asks as he turns over to you in the bed. You turn to face him and only give him a nod, not trusting your voice.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Do you ever regret being with me?” Harry looks at you with shock.

“Why would I ever regret being with you?”

“I don’t know. I’m younger than you. You’re a handsome, sweet, and charming man, and could possibly be with anyone. I’m just me.” You say with a sad tone.

“If you need to know, no. No I don’t regret being with you. I will never regret being with you.” You only nod.

“Jenna and Mila brought this up didn’t they? I was watching you from the bar, and noticed that your face dropped and that you were about to cry while they were talking to you. So I had to get my love out of there.”

You sigh. “I appreciate it, Harry. But yeah, I just don’t want you to miss out on opportunities, you know? I don’t want you to regret being with me for a more classy and experienced person. I understand-“

“Stop. Please. Look, I don’t want you to ever think that, okay? Who said I was missing out on opportunities anyways? I love experiencing new things with you. You mean the world to me and I love you so much. You’re the first person to make me feel something. I don’t give a fuck what they think. You’re only five years younger than me so I don’t see what the problem is. All that matters is you and me, got it?” That made you feel extremely better. The reassurance he made you feel is 10x more relaxing.

“Thank you, Harry. I love you too.” You give him a kiss.

“You know, Daniel said almost the same thing.” You raise your eyebrows. “Said that if you’re even worth the wait if I wanna get married or some shit like that.” You stay silent, not knowing what to say. I mean Daniel was somewhat right. If I don’t want to get married right now and Harry does, it’s only natural it won’t work out. “That doesn’t matter what he says anyways.”

“Why?”

“Because love, I would wait for you until you’re ready. Sure I want to get married and have kids with you, but I know you’re not in a rush to do so, and I’m not either anyways. And if you don’t want to get married then fuck it! We don’t have to put an official title of Husband and Wife on us. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”

“Harry, that’s so sweet. And just to clarify, I want to marry you and luckily have kids with you too.” Harry blushes at your words.

“I know we’ve only been together for a little over a year, but when I know, I know. And all I know is that I want that future with you. It’s just you and me.”

“And I know too.”

“Good.” He pecks your nose.

“Do you remember when we met; how you caught me blushing and I turned all red?” Harry chuckles.

“Yeah, I do. Still don’t know why you were so embarrassed.”

“You had just told me that you’ve graduated about 3 years from that time and I remember thinking how insanely attractive you look because I thought you were my age.” Harry lets out a loud laugh. “Hey! It’s not funny!”

“You know what? Fuck age! If my girl thinks I look good then that’s all that matters.”

feel free to send in a request!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles ff #1dff #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #older!harry #harry styles au #older writings

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veronicamarsconfessions · 5 years ago

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I was hugely excited by the announcement that a fourth season of teen noir show Veronica Mars was going to be made, nearly fifteen years after the show’s initial air date (and cancellation after three seasons), and five years after the crowdfunded movie came out. As soon as the show dropped on Hulu (or Stan, if you’re in Australia like me) – a week earlier than initially slated, I rushed to watch it. And I was so distraught by the ending that it genuinely took two days for my mood to return to something even vaguely resembling ‘okay’.

For those of you who haven’t seen it *SPOILERS FROM HERE ON*,

season four has Veronica (Kristen Bell) chasing down a serial bomber who seems to be trying to destroy the Spring Break business in Neptune. It turns out that the first bomb was set by property developer ‘Big’ Dick Casablancas, trying to destroy the Spring Break business in order to buy the waterfront properties cheaply, and the subsequent bombs were set by a pizza delivery man, Penn Epner (Patton Oswalt), who fancies himself a detective and is out to find glory after he is initially ridiculed for his public accusation of an incorrect suspect. The season itself had several issues (one of them being some seriously murky motivations behind Epner’s behaviour, like, if he really was that much of a genius, why was he a pizza delivery man?, and that the people ultimately behind the crimes are more or less ‘hidden in plain sight’ all along, which is a disappointing departure from the way the initial seasons cleverly hid the villain until quite late in proceedings). However, the issue for which there is not enough therapy in the world to appease me is the season’s last-minute killing off of reformed bad-boy and Veronica’s long-time boyfriend, Logan Echolls (Jason Dohring), right after they finally got married.

Series creator and showrunner, Rob Thomas, justified this decision by saying ‘I know this seems crazy or harsh but Veronica is at her best when she’s an underdog and I don’t know that there’s much to root for if she’s now got a perfect relationship. I need to keep her fighting and I need to keep her a little bit uncomfortable in order to have a show. There’s nothing funny or interesting about perfection.’

Except that’s a deeply flawed understanding of how relationships function, and a deeply messed up thing to push on to people.

It’s fair to acknowledge that once the ‘will-they-won’t-they’ is resolved, TV shows often decline in quality, or at the very least, significantly depart from the original formula which made them into such beloved hits at their beginning. But there are two significant issues with this: First, the assumption that TV shows must remain the same in order to be good. There are some interesting observations that the job of the sitcom episode (in particular) is to return all characters to more or less their original starting points. While that is broadly true, TV shows, like life, need to evolve in order to stay interesting, and as across seasons, audiences grow alongside the characters they watch evolve and mature.

Nevertheless, it was fair for Thomas to note that the characterisation of Veronica is someone who is embittered and cynical about people’s fidelity and inherent goodness – after all, when we first meet her at the age of sixteen, her best friend has been brutally murdered, she’s been raped, her alcoholic mother has upped and left, and her adored father and moral compass has been socially ostracised for a) doing his job and b) being not super wealthy. It’s a lot. Veronica’s very understandable trust issues are compounded by the moonlighting she does as a P.I where, to she regularly sees people cheating on one another and generally behaving in unpleasant ways. So it’s reasonable to point out that for Veronica, the notion of the ‘happily ever after’ is a deeply uncomfortable one. But to keep her in the same mindset as she was at aged 16 is to deny her the capacity to grow as a character.

It’s fair that there was a desire to avoid repeating the pattern previously established (withdrawn/bitter etc), but – and here is my ultimate point – that could have been avoided.

Some of the most complex and interesting storylines come from couples who get together and have to navigate relationships; compromising to fit together, find a way to make it work. Think about the evolution of Niles and Daphne’s relationship in Frasier (and leave aside some of the aspects to his earlier infatuation with her that seem distinctly distasteful in a post-#metoo world). While much of the humour between them in earlier seasons was because of his unrealised ardour for her, after they became a couple, the hardships they navigated through being a couple, and the deepening richness of their relationship that was both romantic and based in friendship, produced some truly hilarious moments. Similarly, one of my (and our fabulous Chief Nerd, Elise’s) favourite TV shows, Chuck, *SPOILER* has the two leads get together in season 3. The show was no lesser for that fact because as Chuck and Sarah’s relationship deepened, they explored facets of themselves that they hadn’t previously shown – it provided more material for the writers, not less.

One of my favourite articles on the ending of Veronica Mars, season four, pointed out that Logan has the most interesting character development because he works to better himself – he has come a long way from the miscreant teenager who organised ‘bum fights’, and he had the potential to become an even more interesting character. How this interacted with Veronica’s cynicism could have provided significant fodder for more story.

But, giving full credit to Rob Thomas for a moment here, the show is called Veronica Mars, not Logan Echolls. So the decision to axe Logan was made to push Veronica’s character development forward, especially given the shows position as a gender-flipped noir which so often has the embittered, cynical detective dealing with the ongoing pain of a tragically killed love.

But the problem is that I can’t actually see how this is going to do anything but ossify Veronica’s primary characteristics: bitter, a hardnosed and reckless desire to catch the bad guy at any cost. Moreover, in most of the noir detective stories, this love has died before we meet the hard-bitten detective.

Thomas said to The Hollywood Reporter, “Moving forward, we’re going to really build around [the idea that] the case is the thing and less of the soap opera of Veronica’s life.” Except Veronica Mars is all about character. Her interactions with her father, Keith (Enrico Colantoni) and the genuine bond of affection between them evokes some of the show’s most poignant interactions. Her internal struggle when the pursuit of justice comes up against questions of morality is inherent grounded in her character. One of its most interest aspects across the years is that Veronica is often wrong. She falsely accuses people (including Logan himself), she behaves badly, she takes her friends for granted, and she can be reckless to the point where she endangers herself and someone has to come in and rescue her (case in point: wandering into the base of an Irish gang that had a particular grudge against her father). So to strip away the elements to the story that allow for depiction and consideration of those complexities would be to lose much of the show’s point.

There’s also a part of me that feels the way in which Logan was killed feels personal. Logan and Veronica were never initially meant to get together, but in the first episodes, the chemistry between the characters, and Kristen Bell and Jason Dohring was so profound that it was written in. I might be putting on my tin foil hat to say this, but it feels as though Thomas resented the manner in which LoVe became such a pivotal part of the Veronica Mars ‘brand’. What really underpins that for me is that the way the series sent off other characters was considered, and gave them a certain ‘exit’. The way in which Logan was killed off feels almost like an afterthought, made more so by some of the questions that arise from the manner. How did he know that she would be in it when it actually blew up? Moreover, the convenience of him leaving a voicemail for his therapist about why he wanted to marry Veronica (why exactly would he call his therapist to tell him about his epiphany? Who has that kind of relationship with their therapist?), and this woman’s decision to keep it from Veronica for a year seems weirdly contrived. Because it was.

However, to be fair, one could claim that the season mistreated some of its other characters, too. Tina Majorino who plays Cindy ‘Mac’ Mackenzie specifically noted that she did not want to return because she did not want her character to be sidelined. Similarly, the complexity to Eli ‘Weevil’ Navaro’s character was stripped away, as was the depth of his relationship with Veronica. What’s worse is that this could have been a really interesting storyline; why he decided to walk away from the court case which would have seen him awarded with compensation for what happened to him in the movie. While we are told that his wife left him along with his child, prompting him to return to his old gang-running ways, the depth of his grief and the reputable life he lost were never really portrayed. Honestly, I would have preferred that rather than the convoluted storyline that involved Mexican cartel hitmen.

But beyond my argument as a writer as to why Logan’s death was a totally unnecessary element to bring in, it also feels like a real slap in the face to fans. I’ve previously talked about the relationship this show has with its fans. Realistically, season 4…hell, the movie, only existed because of the love and support fans showed the show.

Any narrative material exists to interact with fans. Obviously, there is a fine line that can cross into blatant pandering, and there is also a trend that offers a ‘gritty’ or ‘sad’ end (ie the tragic death of the lover), but it’s a balance.

The Veronica Mars movie was very much fan service – it was, after all, fan funded. Much of the movie’s contents and storyline were determined by what Thomas was seeing from fan comments on social media, noting “I did have an idea of things people wanted to see, characters I wanted to get an appearance in, whether it felt extraneous or not.” He added, “there’s no way in the world we would have had a fan-funded movie and I would have killed Logan,” he added.

In the same interview, he said, “I fear that leaning into the high school soap that the show started out as is a losing proposition, that it will start feeling nostalgic rather than vital. If Kristen [Bell] and I want to make more of these Veronica Mars mysteries, I think it’s going to survive best as a true mystery show with a badass PI at the center of it, and I think that works better if the PI doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

Yet for a show whose who schtick was challenging the noir detective genre, it seems the prospect that someone fundamentally gritty and damaged can also have a relationship that the struggle to be healthy was simply a bridge too far.

And at the crux of it, what really frustrates me – as a fan, and as a writer – is that for Thomas, it simply felt too hard to give Logan and Veronica an enduring relationship, and it if wasn’t too difficult, then he perceived it destroyed some fundamental part of the show by making it emotionally sappy. If that’s the dichotomy in which Thomas thinks, then Veronica Mars is no longer the show which attracted its die-hard following of fans and may as well be a different show with a similar premise.

#Veronica Mars #Rob Thomas #Kristen Bell #Logan Echolls #Jason Dohring #news

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yabusamez · 5 years ago

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yooooooo hi hello can i order uhhhhhhh 1 jealousy hcs for keiji, alice, joe, n reko please??? thank u

SCREAMS YES AAAA MY FIRST REQUEST !!!!!!!!!!! okay OKAY here you are!!!!!! please enjoyyyyy

TAGLIST ( ask to be added )- @velveeta-mac

YTTD Jealousy HCS

Keiji Shinogi

First of all, if he does get jealous, you probably won't know until like two days later when he goes 'you remember that guy from earlier? yeah he made me jealous lol'

He just doesn't like bothering you with that stuff

But the second someone starts getting touchy?? Aha *insert triggered keiji*

Keiji will walk right up to you, wrap his arm around your shoulders, pull you close and start flirting with the guy.

He has ZERO shame. He refuses to let anyone one-up him and somehow makes the guy blush so hard he has to walk away.

But if they aren't touchy, Keiji just stands from the sidelines and lets them talk, because he knows you're loyal and won't leave him for some rando on the street.

Joe Tazuna

Joe doesn't easily get jealous Hsjshs

Usually he actually likes watching people try and flirt with you. He'd actually probably steal the pickup lines they used LMFAOOOO

But once he sees you getting uncomfy or they start getting touchy he gets a huge burst of confidence

He can't explain why but he does

He runs/turns to you and straight up kisses you in front of them.

After like 25 seconds of straight kissing he turns to the person and goes 'your pickup lines sucked'

what that person doesn't know is that Joe just stole EVERY SINGLE LINE THEY USED MWAHAHA

After the person leaves, Joe stuffs his hoodie into your arms and forces you to wear it so everyone knows that he loves you and that you're taken 🥰

Alice Yabusame

If he gets jealous, you’ll DEFINITELY know.

He makes it PAINFULLY obvious.

The second Alice sees you getting flirted with he steps in, practically barking at the person and telling them to back the hell off because you're his.

If they make you uncomfy or start touching you? Alice is about to commit a war crime.

He loves you so much it's INSANE- And he gets jealous very very easily. If they even try to touch you theyre gonna eat his fist.

You’re gonna have to stop him from going too far because Alice doesn't know when to stop.

After everything though? Cuddles. Lots and lots of cuddles and kisses and he's like a furnace so you're always comfy.

Reko Yabusame

Unlike her brother, Reko keeps calm whenever someone flirts with you.

she actually doesn't really care- If someone's gonna flirt theyre gonna flirt, but she'll step in before it goes too far and tell them you're taken

But if you get uncomfy or they start touching?

Immediate red flags.

Reko will roast the SHIT out of them. No mercy.

She always holds you super close while she does it too, just so they know you're 100% taken and hers.

And she usually always wins- Because she doesn't stop. Not until they leave or you ask her to leave.

If you want her to stop, she will, because she'll do anything for you. Literally like anything-

And after it all goes down, she rants about it for hours and makes you cuddle with her, and watch a movie.

Preferably a horror movie, because she loves when you cuddle into her at the scary parts. It makes her feel more confident in your guys' relationship.

#alice talks #yttd #alice yabusame #keiji shinogi #joe tazuna #reko yabusame #writing #first real request!!!!!

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ohmrlove · 5 years ago

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Hello! I’ve been asking a bunch of people to do this request because I want to see everyone’s different headcanons. How would the MLQC boys react to MC being a single mother? She never told them she has a 7yr son because they never thought to ask and we’ll call him Liam instead of “her son”. So they found out when Liam ran to her. MC is still young since Liam was born from unfortunate events like rape (she loves her son to death). How would the guys try to bond with Liam?

Trigger warning: ask centers around rape

🍷 Victor 🍷

He never would have imagined you were a single mother, let alone to a seven-year old. You were really good at hiding it!

It’s likely he overheard a snippet of a phone call when trying to approach you about work. A tiny little ‘love you mommy!’ on the phone during a break he didn’t know you were taking

Is kind of blown away you can strike the work-life balance and avoid being so consumed. Victor, himself, is bad at balancing intimate relationships outside of work so you mystify him

Gets super curious about this kid and slyly devises some work event that it’d be okay to bring them to

Realizes it’s a bad idea when he’s overwhelmed with the sheer amount of people--and kids--he has to greet, but likes that your kid was pretty quiet (shy) and sat at a table with you

He was playing with the big, fancy cloth napkins and Victor decided to fold one up in a semi-complicated design next to his

You introduce the two and it starts as Victor showing him how to fold napkins and teaching him about food

Casually drops Souvenir having a ‘Little Chefs day’ and encourages you to bring him

Victor can’t be the one running the class (obviously) so Mr. Mills does it and he helps grab all the stuff to make mac n’ cheese

Your son follows along, gets messy, and corrects Victor on how much cheese mac n’ cheese ACTUALLY needs. (“You want it to be really good! The best, like angels singing in your mouth, and that means lots of cheese!”)

Victor’s stomach hurts from all the cheese, but the whole thing was amusing

He’s suddenly ‘in the neighborhood’ a lot, and comes to sit with you and your son

When you have to collaborate with him on work, Victor insists you bring him so you don’t waste money on a babysitter. (”There’s two of us and one of him, it can’t be that hard.”)

Eventually learns the truth after the two of you have grown much closer and takes a deep, personal interest in making sure Liam never has that awful person for a father figure

“Just because” trips to places the three of you would like

Is basically your boyfriend/the dad figure but won’t own up to it unless super pissed off or being challenged in public. Will admit to it more when you’re married.

📢 Gavin 📢

Kind of dense about it. Had suspicions but no proof, and when he saw you two side by side, you picking him up to hug him, the similarities were PRETTY OBVIOUS

Birdcop felt kinda dumb

Becomes hyperfocused after that. When did this happen? A SEVEN YEAR OLD?! He never would’ve guessed!

Is worried the kid will be the total opposite of him--not super active, hates loud noises, etc--but is glad he can break the ice by showing him a cop car or his motorcycle

Answers all the typically excited job questions as best he can

Conveniently shows up at a school fitness day as a supervisor or some safety tie-in with the police department

Is happy to see him being nice to the other students and participates a little but mostly watches with you on the sidelines

Doesn’t ask you some of his questions since there’s other people nearby, but invites you two to ‘a little place’ he was going to afterwards

One dinner date turns into a few more, and Gavin is grasping at straws trying to invite you to stuff just to hang out. He’s got a soft spot for the kid and he sees his eyes light up and Gavin just can’t.

They turn into weekend buddies--fun at the park, movies, the whole nine yards!

He realizes this dynamic is getting pretty serious when your kid invites him to an award night at school. It’s just you two and Gavin is embarrassed but soooo proud! His heart is fluttering!

You tell him the truth about Liam’s conception and Gavin can only HOPE the guy is already dead. Boy is MAD. The news reported some wind issues for the next few hours, even into the next day.

Probably has a dark circle of people and MAKES SURE the guy doesn’t cause you any problems and stays FAR AWAY.

Focuses on being a good figure in Liam’s life.

The type to go ‘I know that kid’ and cheer him on at school functions. He’s got a distant older brother/aloof but warm personality so the transition to dad is going to be natural and hard to see.

🔬 Lucien 🔬

Probably figured it out before you ever told him. Considered that he’s a cousin/nephew or the kid happens to look somewhat like you (features can be common, etc.) but his gut says otherwise

Now that he thinks about it, he’s seen the kid off in the background when he dropped by your house sometimes. He just assumed you were babysitting a neighbor child.

When the two of you come to see him, holding hands, he knows. You’d run back to Lucien’s house and picked something up for him while he was stuck in a lecture.

Is too nosy for his own good--no matter how subtle--and offers to treat you for the errand. Whatever your kid wanted, he picked.

Lucien’s a people-watcher and found your kid’s table manners pretty interesting and he was pleased to note he wasn’t overly loud.

Their interests didn’t perfectly line up but Lucien’s absolutely voracious when it comes to learning and reading, so he had SOMETHING to say about Liam’s likes. Didn’t mind learning more from your excited, scatterbrained kid. It’s always funny to see people so passionate.

If he likes to sketch, Lucien could probably turn a sketch into a tiny robot or something. That puts him high on Liam’s list!

If he’s a more active/outdoor child, Lucien will invite the two of you along on a less-serious version of field research

Lucien can somehow always find the most interesting but less public city events, so it makes it fun and mysterious to tag along

Volunteers to babysit him when you’re super busy

They swap books and Lucien seems to have extra movie tickets lately

You guys drive to the Research Center to check on him one night when his experiment runs late and Lucien knows that this is a thing. You guys are a thing now. You’ve shown him that dedication and he’ll give it back two-fold (at least).

When he realizes no father figure’s coming in to make a fuss, Lucien has several theories. Finally inquires over a cup of tea, late at night when Liam’s asleep.

“Although certainly not ideal, Liam’s proof that good things can come out of a bad situation.”

He’s pretty vigilant about renewing any court-based paperwork that involves keeping the father away. Would probably kill him to really get him out of the picture, but has too many ideas and would rather not bother. The ultimate victory would be yours and Liam’s success, and he’ll invest in that instead.

🎤 Kiro 🎤

You and Liam were out buying groceries and running errands on your day off. Kiro was out (in disguise) trying to follow the diet his nutritionist set up...plus a few bag of chips

The two of you ran into each other at a booth giving away free samples. Kiro ABSOLUTELY can never turn down samples because they’re too small to matter and they’re usually junk food.

He says hello vaguely, as always, but when the kid says ‘Mommy, who’s that?’ Kiro absolutely loses it with disbelief and excitement

You rush him back to your house before he can blow his cover and the media gets the wrong idea

Kiro’s naturally a big kid at heart, and with his charming Evol, it won’t be hard for him to connect. Not that he’d use it.

If he gets too excited, it’ll happen accidentally.

He’s used to kids being excited to meet him so it’s a pretty easy introduction.

They talk superheroes, food, and all kinds of things!

If your kid’s not a big singer or dancer, Kiro’s more than happy to show him how to play the guitar or drums the next time you hang out. Kind of regrets that last one. But hey, he’s happy! That counts for something!

These two TOTALLY have a system where Liam brings him ‘contraband’ food when you visit and he HAS to take it because it would be rude to refuse a fan’s gift. Savin is not pleased.

Liam starts to understand that Kiro’s really busy or can’t go outside a lot/has to be private, so when the three of you hang out you usually bingewatch stuff or play video games. There’s always waaay too much takeout, but it’s delicious!

If you go to Kiro’s place, he probably installs a little fake sports hoop so they can play indoor games

Sometimes drops little coded messages in live vids (”And a special hello to my main man L!”) he loves it because it drives the internet absolutely nuts with trying to figure out who it is

He’ll casually arrange phone calls/voice messages from any of your son’s favorite TV characters/actors and make it seem like a ‘no biggie’ kind of thing. Kid super loves him then!

Not 100% what Kiro was aiming for--just trying to do something nice--but he’ll take it!

When he bothers to share any good news with Kiro, that’s when he knows he’s in the circle. You guys are close now.

When Kiro’s out supporting bands of designing a new stage line up, he likes your son’s input and will probably add a few of his favorite bands just so he has a reason to come.

It’s an unlikely family, but it’s a happy one. A happy one that is guarded to the teeth and Kiro has no qualms about bulldozing that disgusting excuse of a human in court.

May or may not put out a hit as Key. He’s a master hacker and could get rid of traces pretty easily

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chickensarentcheap · 5 years ago

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 16

Warnings: Profanity, angst (sort of)

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud

I had some of you call attention to another fic that was jacking pieces of my mine (including my OC) and I just want to thank you guys for having my back! You know who you are ;) God that other site is a cesspool!

After their naps and lunch, Tyler takes the two littlest down to the water; settling down at the edge with a life jacket clad Declan next to him, the toddler crouching down to dig and play in the wet sand. He holds Addie along his forearm, the back of her head resting in his palm, his other hand cupping water and allowing it to the drop through his fingers and onto her tiny body. Starting at the top of her feet and slowly moving all the way to the top of her head; her eyes widening and her toes curling at the texture and the temperature, yet never uttering even the smallest of cries. He remembers doing the same with Millie; taking her to the beach as often as possible, slowly and patiently working at getting her used to the water. It had been a big part of his life growing up; the happiest times of his often painful and traumatizing childhood had all happened near or in the water. Spending hours there with his mother. She’d been the one who had taught how to swim and had recruited a neighbor to give him surfing lessons.

It’s where he’s always felt grounded. Relaxed by the feel of the water against his body, the sound of the waves, the smell of salt that lingers in the air. And sharing it with his children is of dire importance; that they have good memories of their father. Not ones of him leaving in the middle of the night and not returning for days and often weeks on end. Not of him coming back through the front door with stitches and bruises marring his face, broken bones set in casts, arms in slings. They are all just babies still. Way too young to be burdened with memories of THAT life. Once they’d moved, he’d decided to devote himself to being the best father he can possibly be; one that spends time with them, who doesn’t miss birthdays, who isn’t too hung over to get up and make breakfast for them in the morning. All mistakes that he’s already made and will regret for the rest of his life.

Much like her big sister, Addie shows no fear of the water. There’s no flinching or grimacing or fussing; even when he cups a handful of it in his palms and lets it trickle down onto the top of her head. Millie had been the same. Fearless. And still is almost six years later. Always willing to try new things, spending her entire day in and out of the water if you’d let her. The twins had been apprehensive; living in Colorado all their lives, they’d never been exposed to the ocean, and it had been overwhelming and scary for both. But they’d battled through it; both decent, strong swimmers that now shared their father’s passion for surfing. Declan prefers to say on the sidelines; happy to just sit in the surf while watching his siblings.

The introduction to the new neighbor is still playing in his mind; the awkward yet rather amusing way she rambled when embarrassed, her blatant honesty, the way she hadn’t been the least bit shy when it came to checking him out and making comments about what she saw. He’s not sure if he finds her charming or annoying. If he wouldn’t mind her coming by on a regular basis or if he’d try and avoid her as much as possible. Meeting new people isn’t easy for him; he’d spent decades constantly looking over his shoulder, viewing everyone around him as a potential threat. His suspiciousness and leeriness of strangers became even more intense when became a father again, and then reaching its peak when Michael McMann had come alone and put his family in danger. It’s why living somewhere fairly remote had been so important; he’s able to control who comes around the people he loves. He doesn’t always have to be so guarded. He could let the kids out onto the beach to play –within eyesight- and not worry that someone was out there lurking around, waiting for a chance to grab one of them. He craves the privacy that comes hand in hand with where they’ve chosen to settle down; more relaxed with the sense of security being here has brought him.

Which is why he hadn’t been the exactly thrilled to hear that his wife had been so welcoming to the new neighbor. That she’d not only befriended her so quickly but had taken his two youngest over to the woman’s house. Had entrusted her –a stranger- with Declan’s care. It had unnerved and angered him. That she’d be that careless with not only her own safety, but with the safety of his children as well. For someone that had been in the job herself, she is far too trusting. Always seeing the side of everyone without even considering their bad side. She’d called him paranoid; accuse of him being overprotective and making her feel as if he wanted to keep her a prisoner in her own home. It isn’t his intention. Yes, he’s protective. He’s the first one to admit to that. But given some of the things that have happened to them –to her- in the past six and a half years, he feels he has a reason to be. He’d come close to losing her. Twice. Three times if he counted their six-month separation. And there’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen again; no way he ever lets a stranger get close enough to hurt her.

Even now he’s on edge. Occasionally glancing each way down the beach. The bend around the woods in one direction, the expanse of near white sand in the other; near indiscernible outlines of other that live on the road enjoying their own private sections of beach. Even looking over his shoulder towards the house; almost expecting to see someone watching him from the back patio or creeping up behind him. The latter fills him with panic; strong and choking. And he briefly closes his eyes in an attempt to chase it away. Logically he knows it’s unhealthy, living like this. But logic is a rarity these days.

He places his other forearm under Addie, one hand over the other as he slowly lowers her into the water; until it just reaches the outer edge of her ears. She’s calm. Content. Not a fear in the world. Those dark eyes rivetted on his blue ones; nothing but pure and utter trust and faith in him. It’s as if...even at that young of an age...she knows that nothing will ever happen to her if he’s around. That there’s nothing he won’t do to keep her safe.

Declan settles down beside him, tucking the little –yet remarkably solid- body tightly into his side, a sand covered thumb stuck in his mouth.

“That’s just gross, mate,” he little nudges the toddler with his elbow. “I know us guys do some gross shit, but I have to draw the line somewhere.”

“Shit,” Declan echoes, and reluctantly removes the thumb from his mouth in favor of curling both arms around Tyler’s bicep.

He’s always been the affectionate one; a constant need to be physically close to either his mother or father. It’s comforting to him; the feel of their skin or even their hair against him, giving him a sense of calm and security. Even when he was a baby he’d had ‘wandering hands’, constantly touching their face or holding a piece of their clothing while taking a bottle or being rocked to sleep. Deeply sensitive and intuitive for someone so young. Much like Tanner; an old soul stuck in a tiny body. Their father’s looks but their mother’s personality.

Tyler stretches both legs out in front of him; grimacing at the sharp, sudden pain that comes from both the right knee and hip. The latter is new; most likely from falling asleep on it or pulling something while working out. And he lays Addie along his thighs; one hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun, the other coming to rest on to side of Declan’s head as he presses a kiss to his hair.

“Tired?”

“’ungry,” Declan replies.

“Hungry?” Tyler grins. “Again? You just ate.”

Declan shrugs. “’ungry,” he repeats.

“Me too. Wanna go home? Get something to eat?”

The toddler nods, then gives a loud yawn before scrambling to his feet. “Stanny!” he suddenly announces, and then points down the beach.

“Who’s Stanny?”

“Daddy...look...” Declan grabs a handful of Tyler’s hair. “Stanny!”

He glances towards whatever has captured his son’s attention; a tan and black pug running towards them, the frazzled neighbor in hot pursuit. And he grabs a hold of the back of Declan’s shorts before he can bolt, easily and effectively keeping the kind in place.

“You don’t do that,” he scolds his son, tone harsher than it needs to be. “You don’t run of off that like that. Ever.” He’s agitated. Annoyed. Even pissed off. For six months he’s enjoyed the privacy their stretch of land has providing, liking the anonymity that relative seclusion has given him. Now twice in less than two hours someone has had the nerve to invade his ‘happy place’ as his wife calls it. And not just someone. The same someone.

“Is there a part of ‘private beach’ you don’t understand?” he inquires, as Salena finally reaches them, crouching down in the sand to allow Declan to climb all over her; hugging and kissing her before he settles down to play with the pug as it rolls around in the sand.

“Well maybe Mac is smart enough to read, but Stanny isn’t,” she retorts.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but they make these things called leashes. I could buy you one if you need me to.”

“Mac isn’t always on leash,” Salena points out.

“Mac doesn’t leave our property, so....”

“Are you always this grumpy?” she inquires. “Were you born this way or...”

“It’s a gift. You know, for six months I’ve haven’t seen anyone other than my own family. I kind of like it that way. Now I’ve seen you twice. In the same day.”

“You’re anti-social.”

“You can put it that way if you want. I like my privacy.”

“Esme told me you get this like this,” she says. “Intense.”

“Yeah? Well Esme needs to learn to keep her mouth shut. She’s a little too...”

“Talkative.”

He shakes his head. “Trusting.”

“And that’s a problem because....”

“I don’t trust anyone.”

“Sounds like you’re the one with the problem. Not her.”

Tyler smirks. “If you lived the life I had, you wouldn't trust anyone either.”

She arches an eyebrow and cocks her head to the side. “What kind of life is that?”

“The kind that’s not of your business. Really?” he asks, sighing heavily and rolling his eyes when she sits down beside him. “Am I giving off some kind of vibe that says: ‘make yourself comfortable’? Do I seem like I’m interested in making friends?”

“No,” Salena admits. “But maybe you need one.”

“Unlike my wife, I don’t feel the need to have contact with people outside of my family.”

“That sounds unhealthy.”

“What’s unhealthy is the things I’m thinking towards you right now.”

She grins. “Dirty things?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Ragey things. Violent things. Has anyone ever told you they want to drown you before? Because that’s what I want to do to you right now.”

“You know what I’m most curious about when it comes to you? How someone like Esme ends up with someone like you. She’s so...I don’t know...her. And you’re so...you.”

“You were checking me out below the waist earlier. There's your answer. My secret when it comes to keeping her around.”

It’s Salena’s turn to smirk. “I think you can be pretty charming when you want to be. When you let yourself be. What kind of job did you have before? Is that what made you like this? So... I don’t know...bitchy.”

“People make me bitchy,” Tyler informs her. “People like you.”

“All the scars,” she comments, as her hand reaches out to rest on his shoulder; fingertips tracing the thin, slightly puckered line that runs from the base of his neck to the top of his right shoulder. “Whatever you did before must have been pretty hard core.”

He yanks his arm away, annoyed by her touch. “I was in the army. SASR.”

“Special Air Services Regiment. That’s impressive. You served overseas?”

“A handful of times.”

“What did you do after that? How’d you meet Esme?”

“Why are asking me all of this? Why is it so important to you?”

She shrugs. “Curiosity.”

“We worked together. The people we were both working for at the time put us together on a job.”

“Who were these people?”

“None of our business.”

“Why so secretive? Was it THAT bad? So awful that neither of you will talk about it?”

“We left that life behind. We don’t talk about it because it didn’t exactly end well. So we put it in the past and moved on. And that’s where we want it to stay. In the past.”

“Was it illegal?”

He scowls. “What did I just say?”

“I’ll get it out of you eventually. Once we become friends too.”

Tyler snorts. “Don’t hold your breath.”

“You’re used to getting your own way, aren’t you,” she states.

“I’m used to people minding their own business and leaving me alone. There’s six people in this world I want around me. You’re not on the list.”

“Not yet,” she sing songs.

Tyler rolls his eyes.

“Opposites really do attract, I guess. You and Esme are just so different. She’s very cute and sweet and friendly and...”

“You don’t know her that well. You think you know everything there is to know about her in just a few days? There’s way more do her than that, trust me.”

“...and you’re so...you. You must balance each other out in some way. I’m still trying to figure out how.”

“Well don’t strain yourself too hard.”

She smirks. “You CAN be a real dick.”

“It’s my specialty. Along with scaring people away.”

“You’re not THAT scary. Okay,” she laughs, when he stares at her pointedly. “Maybe you are. Although I think intimidating is a better word to describe you. You intimidate people. You’ve got this intense way about you and you’re freakishly tall and you’ve got all the muscles and the tattoos and the scars and the huge arms. Can I touch them?”

He laughs. “What?”

“Your arms. Can I touch them? I’ve never seen arms like that.”

“Yeah...no....you can’t. That’s just weird as fuck.”

“What about your back? Can I touch that?”

He frowns. “What is wrong with you?”

“You’ve never had anyone to ask you to flex so they can touch your back or your arms?”

“I’m not in the habit of letting women touch me. Especially weird ones.”

“Because your wife wouldn’t like it? Because she’d get jealous?”

“Because I respect her. Why would I let other women touch me? I’m married. Happily.”

“So then why do you look like that? Why do you work so hard to get a body like that?”

“Because I can. Because I want to. And because my wife likes it. You know, the one woman who’s allowed to touch me. As much as she wants.”

Salena grins. “Intense AND loyal.”

“I’m faithful,” Tyler corrects her. “So if you’ve got something going on in that head of yours, you need to get it out of there. Because it’s never going to happen. I don’t cheat.”

“Ever?”

“Ever. And what the fuck is with all the weird questions?”

“You’re the one answering them,” Salena points out. “You haven’t told me to fuck off. Yet.”

“I’m getting there. Any minute now.”

“’ungry,” Declan announces, and plops down into the sand, a pout on his face.

“I gotta feed him before he goes into a Hulk rage,” Tyler says. “I’d say it was nice talking to you, but...”

“You’re warming up to me,” she says. “Admit it.”

“Yeah, no. Sorry,” he smirks, as he tucks Addie into his chest, hand supporting the back of her head as he stands up.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, Tyler Rake,” she calls after him.

“You get used to it,” he says, then takes Declan by the hand and leads him towards the house.

****

He’s in the kitchen when she arrives home; standing at the sink in just a pair of well-worn and tattered jeans that sit low on his hips, hair damp and messy, a slight sunburn noticeable across his shoulders and the back of his neck. Tending to the dirty dishes in the sink and making up a dozen baby bottles to store in the fridge. It’s a far cry from the man he used to be. The one who’d taken out nearly an entire apartment full of hostiles in Dhaka with his bare hands. Yet it’s phenomenally attractive; the domestic side of him. To see someone that big and that strong tending to the more simple and mundane things of everyday life. He enjoys the simplicity of it all because it is far removed from the life he used to live.

“Hey,” she greets, as she places her purse on one of the barstools in front of the island and two shopping ones –one brown paper- on top of the counter. “You’re busy, busy,” she says, as she lays a hand on the small of his back, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down to kiss her. “No rest for the weary, huh? Where’s Declan and the baby?”

“Both asleep. Second nap of the day.”

“Wow, you really do have some skills. Getting them to a second nap already? Normally he’s still fighting the first one when I’m home alone with him.”

“I use threats.”

“And by threats you mean you bribe him,” she grins, and carries the paper bag to the fridge. “The market was extra good today,” she says, as she begins unloading her purchases. “I bought all kinds of goodies.”

“That better not be kale. Because if you start feeding me that shit again...”

“It’s good for you,” she informs him.

“It tastes like grass clippings and the tears of baby animals.”

“Well lucky for you, I can’t stand the taste of either. It’s spinach. To make salads with. You wrote it on the list. For your smoothies. What’s this?” she pulls out an unfamiliar plastic container and peers under the lid. “Have you been experimenting in the kitchen again, or...”

“I dunno. Something the neighbor brought over. She’s really annoying by the way.”

“You think everyone is annoying. Including me sometimes. Mmm. Taco salad. We can have it with supper tonight. I thought maybe we could try and patch things up Ovi before you start busting his ass. Maybe you can come some stuff on the barbecue?”

“Whatever you want, baby. You’re the boss.”

“You’re finally admitting that after six and a half years?” she teases, and then pops open the lid on the plastic container and grabs a spoon from the silverware drawer. “You want to try some?”

Tyler frowns. “You’re actually going to eat that?”

“Well it’s not just to look at,” she laughs, then scoops up some of the salad. “By the way, the doctor sent something home for you.”

“Viagra?”

“Please. As if you need Viagra. You can get it up if there’s a stiff in the room. I made him write you a note. Saying that it’s perfectly okay for us to go back to regular activities.”

He grins. “Regular activities as in...”

“Yes, as in that. He says there’s no rule that says we have to wait that long. That a lot of couples go right back to having sex as soon as they feel comfortable. He just said that we have to be careful because there’s higher risk for things like uterine infections and all that. So you can erase that memo on your phone. The one that’s counting down the days until your dry spell is over.”

“I’m not doing anything until I see the note.”

“He even put it in an envelope with your name on it. Just like he did when you were the only one who wanted to know if Addie was going to be a boy or a girl,” she journeys over to where her purse sits, digging through it until she finds the item in question, then joins him at the sink and holds it out to him. “So there you go. No more solo studying for you.”

“I was kind of enjoying all the blowjobs,” Tyler grins.

“Well it doesn’t mean we have to stop those. Just that we can do other things now too. The things we enjoy the most. So...” she pops some of the salad on her spoon into her mouth. “Oh my God. So good. You have to try some.”

“I don’t want to try it,” he says, and tears into the envelope.

“You’ll like it. I’ve been feeding your ass for six and a half years. I think I know if you’ll like something. “

He frowns and looks down at the food being offered to him.

“When did you get so picky? You’re in a bulk and when you’re in a bulk, you eat everything. “

“I don’t know what’s in it.”

“Hamburger meat, cheese, onions, tomatoes, taco seasoning, pieces of crushed up Doritos. What’s not to like?”

“It’s not that I won’t like it. It’s that I don’t know what’s in it.”

“Tyler,” she sighs. “Our new neighbor is not trying to poison you. Get a grip. I just had some and I feel fine. Humor me, please.”

He finally relents, then nods in approval.

“You need to stop being so paranoid,” she points the spoon at him, then drops it into the sink and returns the container to the fridge. Why would she try to kill you? She’s harmless.”

“Jeffery Dahmer probably seemed harmless at first too.”

“I highly doubt she’s a cannibalistic serial killer. Not everyone is a threat, regardless of what you think. I thought you were getting better about that. Your fear of strangers.”

“First, it’s not a fear. I’m not afraid of anyone and you know that. Second, when did you become so trusting of them? You did the job too. You know you can’t trust anyone. That you have to see everyone as a possible threat.”

“Well I’m not on the job anymore. And neither are you. It’s time to let that go. This thinking everyone is up to no good and out to get you. It’s not healthy and you know it. Arre you taking your meds?”

“Yes!” he snaps. “Why is that your go to for everything? Why do you automatically get on my ass about taking my meds? I’m not a fucking child.”

“I never said you were a child. But I know what you’re like. How you go on and off of them all the damn time. And I know what you get like when you don’t take them. You don’t need to jump down my throat at the stupidest shit. If you can’t handle being alone with two of them at once...”

“That’s not fucking it. When have I ever had a hard time being alone with two at once? I’ve been alone with all five of them and never had any issues. I’m not a rookie that doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

“Okay, I don’t know what’s crawled up your ass, but what the hell Tyler? If you didn’t want me going out with my brother, why didn’t you just say something. If you wanted to be the one that went with me to the doctor, you didn’t you just tell me that and Kyle would have stayed with Declan and Addie.”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that,” he snarls.

“So then what the fuck? You were fine when I left the house. You were even fine when I walked in here ten minutes ago. Now you’re like this? What the hell?”

“How do you even know that Sabrina or Sally or whatever the fuck her name is?”

“Her name is Salena. She’s our neighbor. And she happens to be a very nice person.”

“So all of a sudden we’re making friends with the neighbors?”

“Yes, Tyler. Because that’s what people do. They make friends. At least that's what normal people do. We are not getting into this. We are not having this argument again. We’ve had this argument at least once a month since we moved here. You don’t like me being friends with other moms at the school, you don’t like me hanging out with the girls I met in the toddler playgroup, you didn’t like me going into town to meet with other moms at that mom’s social thing at the community center. Enough.”

“You don’t even know her,” he attempts to reason, as she snags a bottle of water from the fridge. “Yet you just go over there and hang like you’ve been friends with her forever?”

“How else do I get to know people? Or is that the problem? You don’t want me getting to know people. You just want me all to yourself for some goddamn reason. Like you think I’m going to meet people and suddenly forget I’m a wife and a mother and want me single again.”

“That’s not what I think.”

“People have friends Tyler. Maybe you don’t. And I don’t get on your ass about that. You like being alone. You like it when it’s just us and the kids. And I get why you’re like that and I respect it and understand it and I don’t pressure you to get out of your comfort zone. I get why you are the way you are. But I’m not like you. No matter how hard you try to make me like you.”

“I don’t try to make you like me. I don’t expect you to. But you’re taking my kids over there. My two littlest kids. My two most vulnerable. You even had her watch Declan. He was over there. Alone.”

“What do you think is going to happen to them? What do you think she was going to do to him? She’s just a nice person.”

“No one is that nice.”

“In your experience. I’ve met tons of really nice people. I met tons of them when I used to volunteer at the school and go on field trips and got to be around the other moms. But I wasn’t allowed to be around them for too long, was I. Because you didn’t want me to be alone with anyone, yet you didn’t want to tag along and hang around with the other dads either.”

“What the hell am I going to have in common with other dads?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Tyler. Maybe there’s another hired killer among them just waiting for you to come along.”

His eyes narrow. “That’s fucking low and you know it.”

“You’re right,” Esme admits. “That was. And I’m sorry. But I’m sick of this. I’m sick and tired of this same bullshit from you. Where you think it’s perfectly healthy and normal to keep me locked up like a goddamn prisoner in my own home.”

“That is not what I’m trying to do.”

“Look, I know you want to protect e. And I understand why you’re so hell bent on it. I know that everything with McMann has put you so on edge that even six months later you can’t let go of it. I get it. Especially considering what happened at his house and what he told you he would have done to me. I get that’s fucked you up. And I love you for wanting to keep me safe. But I’ve always felt safe with you. Always.”

“I just want to protect you.”

“But it’s an obsession with you. Can’t you see that? It’s not normal. It’s so far from normal. I’m not some package that you need to get safely to someone.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because it doesn’t seem that way. I’m not some fragile little thing that someone’s hired you to bring back to the. I’m your wife.”

“Yeah, you are. And you’re mother of my children. And it’s not fucking okay that you took my kids over to a stranger’s house and put them in danger.”

“In danger of what? What is going to happen to them? She’s harmless!”

“You don’t know that!” he snarls.

“I do know that. And if you sat down and thought about it logically instead of emotionally, your instincts would tell you the same thing.”

“I’m going to be emotional!” Tyler argues. “Those are my fucking kids!”

“They’re my kids too. Or do you conveniently forget that when you hear something you don’t like? You didn’t make those kids on your own and you sure as hell didn’t give birth to them.”

He sighs heavily, nostrils flaring. “You know what, don’t get fucking mouthy with me. You took my kids and you intentionally put them in danger and...”

“Oh no you don’t,” she furiously interjects. “You do not accuse me of being neglectful when it comes to OUR kids. That’s out of line and you know it. Because I would die for those kids in a heartbeat. No questions asked. And I’ve spent almost six years dedicating every waking moment to taking care of them. And I’ve given everything I have to you, too. And yet you have the fucking nerve to accuse me of intentionally putting OUR kids in harm's way? Fuck you, Tyler. I wasn’t the one taking off all the time and leaving those kids. I’ve made some mistakes, but don’t you dare stand there acting like you’re the perfect fucking parent. Because you’ve fucked up. A lot.”

He nods in agreement. The truth hitting him hard. Her words stinging. And considerably knocking down the level and intensity of his anger. “You’re right,” he says, as leans back against the counter, arms crossed over chest. “I have.”

“I’m the one that cleaned your messes up when it comes to those kids,” tears stream down her face. Hot. Angry. Hurt. “Every time you were away, and you missed a birthday. Every time you were too hungover to even get out of bed in the morning and have breakfast with them. Or when we were separated, and you were too drunk to even remember you had visitation with them. I’m the one that had to answer their questions when they wondered if you left because they were bad and if you didn’t want to see them because you hated them. You don’t know what that was like. Hearing Millie and the twins asking those things. Seeing how heartbroken they were because all the wanted was for you to come home yet you couldn’t even bother to clean yourself up to spend time with them.”

Sighing once more, he crosses one ankle over the other; eyes riveted on the floor, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he struggles with his own emotions. It’s not a shock to hear those things; he knows the things he’s done and the mistakes he’s made. But to hear that his kids had asked those questions...that they thought he wasn’t around because they’d done something or because he hated them...hurts like no other pain he’s ever experienced.

“How dare you come at me like that,” she continues, wiping frantically at the tears that stain her cheeks. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I made a friend. And I trusted her with Declan for a couple of hours. And if you trusted me at all...”

“I do trust you. You’re one of the few people I do trust.”

“...you wouldn’t accuse of doing something to hurt him. Because I would never hurt him. I would never hurt any of your kids. Because I love them, and I love you, and you guys are the best things that have ever happened to me. No...” she shoves his hands away when he reaches for her. “...don’t...don’t touch me...”

He ignores her, wrapping both arms around her slender body and drawing her tightly against him. An arm circling her waist, a hand on the back of her head, holding it to his chest.

“I’m a human being, Tyler. And I need to feel like one. I need to be more than just a wife and a mother. Because I don’t even know who I am anymore outside of those things. And that can’t be all there is to be life. No matter how much I love you and our kids. I don’t want that to be all there is.”

“It’s okay,” he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s going to be okay.”

“And I’m sorry. If the things I said hurt you. But you hurt me, and I lashed out and...”

“I’m sorry, Esme. I didn’t mean to say the shit I did. I was just annoyed and pissed off and you’re always the one that has to pay the price. And I fucking hate that. That I do that to you.”

“I don’t want to this anymore. I don’t want to fight like this with you. We were doing so good and then this shit Ovi happened and Nik showed back up and it all just went to hell again. And I hate that. That we take all this shit on each other. Because it’s not fair. To either of us.”

“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.”

“I don’t want to fight with you. You’re the last person I want to fight with. We’re supposed to be in this together. Not letting shit come between us like this. We need to work harder. At not letting things get between us. Or we won’t make it. And I want to.”

“So do I,” he says, and places both hands on the sides of her hands, thumbs clearing away her tears. “I love you. Even if I have a shitty way of showing it sometimes.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses her. Long and soft. Tasting the salt that lingers on her lips.

“I need to go lie down. You can come too if you want. But I understand if you want to be alone. That was a lot to hear and you probably hate me for some of it.”

“I could never hate you,” he assures her, and places his lips against her brow. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” she gives a small smile before resting her forehead against his chest.

He combs his fingers through her hair, allowing the soft tresses to slide between his fingers before she pulls away. “I’ll change,” he says. “I promise.”

She just gives a small nod, attempting another smile before stepping away and leaving the room.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #best part of me #extraction #chris hemsworth character

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