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athenamikaelson · 8 months ago

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Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 3

Word Count- 2.7

Warnings- swearing, canon violence, spoilers obvi, puking

“I really think this is a bad idea,” I tell Elena and Rose from the backseat of Elena’s SUV. Earlier this morning Elena called me and asked if I would go with her to one of Rose’s friends to learn more about Klaus. I had originally going to tell her no, but then remembered Theo had been trying to get me to take him to some football game upstate and I needed a reason to say no. I may hate the supernatural, but not as much as I hate packed arenas filled with drunk older men.

“Everything will be fine, Y/N. We’re just going to ask Slater some questions and we’ll be on our way back to Mystic Falls before dinner,” Elena sends me a reassuring smile from the front seat, “Besides, Slater can be trusted. Right, Rose?” She questions the pixie-haired vampire who sits silently in the driver’s seat.

Rose nods along to Elena’s question, “I’ve known Slater for a long time he’s the only person I have fully trusted other than…” Her face falls into a solemn look and I presume she’s thinking about Trevor, her now headless friend. Elena sends her a sad look while I try to find interest in my hands. Dealing with other people’s emotions has never been my strong suit.

“The bottom line is, we can trust him. If anyone is going to know anything about Klaus and ritual it’ll be him.”

I sigh and lean back into my seat, staring out the window. I watch as we drive by countless people going throughout their days. Normal-average-looking people doing mundane things, walking strollers, going to work, and school. Now that I know about the supernatural though questions swarm my mind if the people I’m watching are actual people. I mean I’m going to guess that baby in the stroller wasn’t a vampire…well.

“Do vampire babies exist,” I ask aloud. Elena turns to look over her shoulder at me and Rose just lets out a deep sigh as she flips the blinker on.

“Vampires can’t reproduce, so no,” She responds solemnly to which I shake my head, “No I mean like can babies be vampires?”

This question gains Rose’s attention as she turns over her shoulder and looks at me with an “Are you serious” look. Elena just looks from me to Rose, then back to me before shaking her head.

“No,” She pauses in thought, “At least I don’t think they can be. I mean technically maybe they could be but I don’t think an infant would be able to hunt for blood.”

Elena and I nod together as we come to the final conclusion that babies can in fact be vampires.

“Baby vampires don’t exist,” Rose states annoyed.

“Why not,” Elena turns to Rose who looks like she’s close to turning this car around or driving it off a cliff.

Rose is quiet for a moment as if she is actually going to give the question an answer before she shakes her head and sighs.

“They just can’t,” She turns the wheel into a parking spot in front of an industrial building, “We’re here.”

—

“Well, looks like he’s not home. Better come another day,” I’ll tell them as Rose’s knocks are met with no response. I twirl around on my heel and climb down a step but halt when Elena’s hand grabs the sleeve of my jacket.

“Mmn, no. We didn’t come all the way out here for nothing,” She says as she motions at the door to Rose. Rose just rolls her eyes as she breaks open the latch on the door. Impressive. Rose motions for us to walk in and I begrudgingly follow behind Elena.

Slater’s apartment is large with brick walls. My gaze catches odd-looking artifacts that line the bricked walls, along with artwork that appears to be mid-century.

“I don’t think he’s going to be much help,” Rose’s voice comes from the living room. Elena is already walking towards her when she lets out a gasp making my spine lock up. I slowly peek my head past the door and choke down bile as I see the veiny corpse of who I’m assuming was Slater.

“Shit.”

—-

I’m sitting on the couch of the dead guys' apartment as Rose and Elena look through Slater’s stuff. I wrap my sweater around my tighter as I watch them get stumped by the password-locked computers. I listen to Rose tell Elena we should just leave since we don’t have the password when a rustling comes from the room behind us.

“Is the dead guy alive,” I whisper as I kneel on the couch and barely raise my eyes over the top of it to try to look at the door? Rose walks to the door and clutches my sweater tighter to me as she opens it up and stares out.

“Alice,” Rose’s voice questioned.

“I thought the dead guy's name was Slater,” I whisper-yell to Elena as she just shakes her head. We both whip our heads to Rose as a dark-haired girl runs into her arms crying. So not Slater. I slightly cringe at her high-pitched cries and lower myself back onto the couch as Rose tries to soothe her.

—

Ten minutes later Rose, Elena, and I are in Slater’s kitchen making Slater’s “widow” tea. I had felt a moment of sympathy for the black-haired woman about losing her boyfriend until Rose enlightened Elena and me on her real reason for being with Slater. She had wanted to become a vampire aswell.

Rose and I watch from the kitchen as Elena tries to get the passcode out of Alice. It doesn’t seem to be going well until Elena promises Alice that she’ll get Rose to turn her if she helps us. Unsurprisingly that changes Alice’s dark mood and she skips over to the table of monitors. She puts in his password as Elena and Rose watch from over her shoulder. I haven’t changed from my seat in the kitchen though, just silently sipping the spare apple juice box I found in the fridge.

My ears perk up as Alice tells us his password was Kristen Stewart and how predictable Slater was. I pull myself off my bar stool and walk into the living room sipping my juice.

“What about that one? “Cody Webber, THey exchanged dozens of e-mails about Elijah,” Rose asks Alice pointing out some emails.

“I could call him,” Alice tells her.

Elena hands her her phone, “Tell him that we’re trying to send a message to Klaus. The doppelganger’s alive, and she is ready to surrender.”

Elena’s admission shocks me so much I drop my juice box onto the floor, “What the hell?”

Elena doesn’t look at either Rose or me as she tells Alice to get the message to him and she walks out of the room. Rose and I just stare at each other for a moment in shock before we rush after Elena.

“What are you doing,” Rose presses Elena.

“I’m getting Klaus’s attention.” Is all Elena says as if it’s not signing her own death certificate. Last night after I’d gotten home from picking Theo up Elena called me and filled me in on everything about this ritualistic sacrifice with this old guy Klaus. That’s the reason we had been taken. So why she wants to get this old guy’s attention now is beyond me.

“Well, no shit Elena! We got that part. What we want to know is why would you want to,” I throw my hands up at her in exasperation.

“If Klaus finds you he will kill you,” Rose looks at Elena as if she’s grown a second head and then comes to a realization, “which is what you wanted all along.”

Elena shakes her head, “It’s either me or my family.”

“So this whole charade was some suicide mission so you could sacrifice yourself and save everyone else.” Rose shakes her head at Elena’s actions as the sound of heals and the smell of Victoria’s Secret perfume enter the room.

“Cody is on his way,” I side-eye Alice, “And he really wants to meet you.”

—

Rose and I watch silently as Elena walks back into the living room, to wait for the Grimp Reaper named Cody.

“Ok listen to me,” Rose calls my attention as she pulls out her phone from her jeans, “You’re going to use my phone to call Damon and get him here no matter what. Do you understand me? I’ll go distract the suicidal one.” Rose shoves the phone into my hand and speeds off into the living room. I open her phone to find Damon’s contact and hope he picks up.

“What,” Damon’s annoyed voice comes from the other end.

“Um, hi. This is Y/N.”

Damon’s side goes quiet for a moment, “Who?”

I roll my eyes at his annoyed tone, “Y’know the girl that got kidnapped with Elena?”

“Elena gets kidnapped a lot you’re going to have to be more specific.”

I sigh deeply, “The one that smelled like vomit.”

“Ah, that one. What do you want Pukey, and why do you have Rose’s phone?” His tone has a sense of suspicion in it that makes me unnerved.

“Well long story short Elena made Rose and I take her to this dead guy's apartment,” I stop for a moment, “Well technically we didn’t know he was dead but..”

“Pukey spit it out I don’t have all day.”

“OK fine, sorry. Anyways, long story short Elena’s planned some suicide mission to give herself to Klaus and we need you to come to the dead guy's apartment to help us get her out of here.”

Damon lets out an annoyed growl from the other line, “Send me the address.”

“Ok, great I’ll send that-,” The dial tone cuts me off, “Ok then, rude.” I send Damon the address and pocket Rose’s phone hoping that he’ll get here in time.

—-

I try to focus on the coolness of the new apple juice in my hand as I watch the door from my spot on the couch. Elena’s pacing can be heard from behind me which is almost as noticeable as the scowl on Rose’s face. Elena’s pacing stops, gaining my attention as I move my gaze from the door to her.

“I’m just going to get a drink,” She tells me as she walks towards the kitchen. Rose and I share a look of discomfort as she exits. Elena’s gasps catch our attention though and my stomach drops expecting the worst as I rush to the kitchen. My guard drops slightly though as the familiar blue-eyed vampire, who I’m 89% sure is in love Elena stands in front of her.

“What are you doing here,” Damon questions Elena.

“What are you doing here,” Elena’s voice comes out breathy and she turns around to look at Rose and me.

“You called him,” She exclaims earning a small shrug and pursed lips from me, and a frown from Rose.

“We’re sorry, Elena,” Rose apologizes for us both.

“You said that you understood,” I go to chime in that I never said that but Damon speaks first.

“She lied.” Elena turns and I can only guess glares at him, which seems to be something she does a lot when it comes to Damon. I groan deeply as I get another whiff of that fucking perfume.

“Damon Salvatore,” Alice exclaims as she enters the room acting like she and Damon are old friends.

Damon tells Rose to get rid of her without breaking eye contact with Elena. As Rose leaves the room with Alice and my nostrils are free from the assault I stand awkwardly behind Elena and Damon as they argue back and forth. Elena tells him that she’s not going anywhere and Damon tells her the exact opposite. I try to sneak backward to escape this awkward situation but my back hits a shelf behind me knocking a vase of it and I watch with a scrunched-up face as it shatters against the floor.

“Whoops.”

Damon shoves Elena into a chair, “You sit down, and you,” Damon’s attention turns to me, “just don’t touch anything else.” I raise my hands in surrender as I keep my hold on my juice.

Everything’s going fine until the front door slams open causing me to spill some juice onto the top of my shirt in surprise. I can’t bother to clean it up though as I watch in fear as three bulky men enter the room. Where Rose, Damon, and Elena stand up to face them I slink further into my armchair with my comfort juice. I would help but I don’t think I can hold a candle to three vampires.

“We’re here for the doppelganger,” the blond one in the middle says.

“Thank you for coming,” Elena attempts to step forward but is grabbed by Damon. He tells her something but I’m too far away to hear it.

Damon turns back to face the men, “There’s nothing here for you.”

I jump in my seat when the man in the back falls to the ground. That turning feeling in my stomach from days ago returns as I see the man who is supposed to be very dead standing VERY much alive. Elijah. His brown hair is parted down the middle and a deep scowl is plastered on his face. Just like the other day, he’s dressed in a fancy button-up and slacks with shoes that probably cost more than my car.

Elijah speeds forward to the other two men, and I find myself involuntarily inching forward in my seat. I freeze though once I realize this movement has captured Elijah’s attention and the dark look from before has lessened into something that makes something deep in my chest flutter around. What the fuck Y/N? I’m frozen in place as Elijah’s eyes move across my face and down to the apple juice I’m now constricting in my hands. I watch as for a moment the corners of Elijah’s lips perk up.

“I ki

“I killed you, you were dead” Damon accusingly says to Elijah. Elijah's gaze slowly slides from mine and towards Damon.

“For centuries now,” Elijah’s nonchalant voice has me swallowing down a snort as I cover my mouth. Elijah’s eyes slide to mine for a moment making me realize he must’ve heard.

The burly man from before is the next to speak, “Who are you?”

“I’m Elijah.”

This revelation has the two men instantly dropping their alpha male acts, “We were going to bring her to you…for Klaus. She’s the doppelganger. I don’t know how she exists, but she does. Klaus would want to see her.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his words. It’s kind of obvious she’s the doppelganger buddy. Elijah doesn’t glance at the man once.

“Does anyone else know that you’re here,” As Elijah says this I get a sickening feeling in my gut just like before when I watched him decapitate a grown man. Elijah’s eyes pan to mine and then he glances at the window next to me. I look away from him and focus on the outside world beyond the glance since I feel what’s coming.

“Well,” Elijah continues, “then you have been incredibly helpful.” Gasps are the next audible thing as I clench my eyes shut and listen to two bodies drop to the floor.

—--

Elena’s hands are holding my hair back as I puke up my guts in the apartment parking lot. Damon who is already in the car is sighing so loudly I can hear him over my gags. Asshole.

“Just let it out,” Elena brushes back my hair soothingly, “Everything’s ok now.”

I whip my head back to throw her a, “are you serious” look. To which she responds with a shrug. I lift off my hands and knees and wipe my lips. Elena guides me to Damon’s car as I slide into the back seat. Elena’s door isn’t even fully shut before Damon hightails us out of the parking lot.

“I thought Elijah was dead! You guys told me he was dead! Why isn’t he not dead,” I exclaim from the backseat.

Damon’s fists tighten on the leather steering wheel, “Great question Pukey. It’s almost like no one else was wondering it.” His sarcastic remark and the unflattering nickname have me glaring at him.

“Damon enough,” Elena backs me up, “Y/N is right. Why is Elijah alive and why did he just leave us there alive?”

We sit in silence for a moment pondering the truth of Elena’s question.

“I’m not sure,” Damon glances at the side of Elena’s face, “But I’m going to find out.”

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muniimyg · 4 months ago

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a scenario where the reader gets a job at hybe and meets jk. like a meet cute or something. love at or at intrigues about each other at first sight.

she’s a fan but she keeps herself composed and professional!

“that’s my parking spot.”

you’re only 5 minutes later than your usual arriving time and this is what you’re greeted with.

some guy parking his motorcycle in your spot. he’s lucky you didn’t honk at him! it’s 7:55AM so he should consider that a blessing.

this entire thing has you parking your car to the side, more than ready to fight for your spot. this was assigned to you! and this is only your 2nd week at hybe—you refuse to be known as the pushover.

you wave at the man in a helmet and hope he sees you. awkwardly, you inch closer to him as he pulls out the keys from his harley.

“unless you’re jungkook or something then it’s all yours—oh.”

you’re not dumb.

it was bound to happen sometime.

whether it be a staff meeting, seeing him around the halls, or being stuck in an elevator with him… it was only a matter of time until you’d meet jungkook.

the man takes off his helmet and runs his fingers through his hair. revealing himself, he looks at you, trying to process your words. then, his expression changes from uncertainty to a warm gaze.

“my bad,” he chuckles. “jimin took mine this morning so i parked here… i thought this was his spot.”

you shake your head, trying to compose your excitement. but wow, so much runs through your mind…

he’s so handsome.

he’s on his fucking motorcycle and you’re seeing it in the flesh. in real time.

jungkook begins to apologize, preparing to park somewhere else but you shake your head. clearing your throat, you straighten up your posture and fold.

“it’s okay,” you blink. “i’ll park somewhere else.”

“i’ll move, it’s no problem—“

“please don’t. you’re jungkook—“

“but this is your parking spot.”

“i know.”

jungkook tilts his head and acts like he’s in deep thought. “… technically i am your boss…”

you laugh at his response, completely agreeing with him. he joins you and for a moment your delusional mind lets you think that; oh my god. he’s looking at me like that?

you feel your knees weaken.

his lips tighten and you bite your inner cheek to soak in the pause between you two. partly because in the midst of this mundane and mediocre morning—jungkook has completely switched the mood.

so, you give in entirely.

“exactly. take the spot for today,” you assure him. with stern eyes, you add, “—but only for today.”

he offers you half a smile and gets off his motorcycle. he places his hand on your shoulder and leans in to say;

“same time tomorrow?“

#ask muni #🌟: kimi req #late answer

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redocity · 5 months ago

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Could you ever do a fic were reader is a firefighter and works in the station but her specialty is being an emt. And whenever buck gets hurt he only lets her patch him up. And basically this is one of this situations and she treats his wounds (at her place idk what could be the reason but it doesn't work if it's a public place) and then he starts to get flirty and offers to "repay her" and it's alude to that him and reader have hooked up before.

FREQUENT FLYER — E.BUCKLEY

when buck gets injured on the job, he always goes back to his favourite paramedic.

evan buckley x gn!reader | 1.7k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — now this is the type of request i can get behind 🙂‍↕️

“Again, Buck? Seriously?”

Buck gave a boyish smile as he leaned against the rescue rig, hand pressed to his side. He shrugged sheepishly, trying to look less injured than he was. It clearly didn’t work. As usual.

“What can I say, I get excited.”

“What did you do this time?” You sigh exasperatedly as you climb into the back of the parked ambulance, something from Chimney about him ‘refusing to leave’ until you checked him over.

Buck looked away almost guiltily, avoiding your gaze. He had a bad habit of running into dangerous situations on calls, and an even worse habit of getting injured because of that fact.

“I, uh, fell out of a window.” He mumbled, wincing as he lifted his hand from where it was pressed against his side.

“You fell out of a window,” You could almost be surprised, but it was Evan Buckley you were talking to here.

“And you didn’t get it check out whilst still on the call why?”

Buck shifted on the ambulance gurney as you began to examine his wound. He could feel the lecture coming and he really didn't want to hear it.

But he also knew he deserved it.

“I was fine!” He protested, then hissed as you prod him. “Ow, ow, ow, okay, maybe I wasn’t completely fine.”

He hums as you sigh. “But like, why should I bother Hen and Chim when I can bother you?”

“Maybe because it’s their job to help injured people?”

Buck shrugged, wincing as the motion made his injury flare. “It’s your job, too. And you’re a lot prettier than they are.”

He smirked, earning an eye roll from you.

“I wasn’t on that call with you, so if we’re being semantic, it’s technically not my job in this instance,”

Buck chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow. “Semantic. I like that word. It’s sexy.”

“You are a strange man Evan Buckley, I’ll give you that. Take your shirt off,”

He smirked as you rolled your eyes again, but obediently lifted his shirt over his head. “Yes ma’am,”

You roll your eyes as you kneel down in front of him to get a proper look at the bruising spreading across his torso, not sparing him a response.

Buck couldn’t help the way his gaze lingered as he watched you drop down in front of him. He wasn’t going to deny it—you looked good in your uniform. And you looked even better on your knees. He made a mental note to get hurt more often, just for this view.

But then you pressed a little too hard against the injured spot, earning a painful grimace.

“Hey, gentle with the goods. They’re expensive.”

“And damaged— what the heck did you do to yourself?” You furrow your eyebrows as you prod gently against the lower half of his ribs. “Did you fall onto a fence or something?”

If you didn’t have genuine reason to be concerned about a rib fracture, you might’ve taken a second to note that he’d definitely been doing more abdominal workouts recently.

Buck grumbled, wincing as you pressed against the injury. His skin was mottled in various shades of purple and blue, an obvious sign of heavy bruising. It didn’t look good. No time to focus on his abs today.

“A table—” Another wince. “Nothing a few drinks and a good night’s sleep can’t fix.” He tried, eyes squeezed shut momentarily as you looked up at him with an unimpressed expression.

“Or maybe I just need some of that good paramedic magic and I’ll be all better.” You’re still looking at him when his eyes open again.

“You fell onto a table,” You deadpan his explanation back to him with a resigned sigh, choosing to ignore his additional comment for the time being.

Buck shifted under your gaze. The way your eyebrow was raised in disbelief made him feel like he was being scolded. It was a look you wore well.

“A garden table, yes.” He tried to explain, wincing again as you pressed against the dark bruise on his side. “A table with weird… metal, spikey-like things sticking out of it. Ow— ow, ow,”

“And I’m guessing the table did not survive,”

"No, the table did not survive," Buck agreed with a wince.

He grumbled as you continued your examination, shifting slightly on the uncomfortable gurney. He was starting to regret making you do this inside the ambulance.

Maybe he should’ve waited and paid you a visit at your apartment instead. At least then he could crash on your bed after.

“Well, good news, you will,” You groan as you push yourself back to your feet, rifling through one of the overhead shelves of the ambulance. “No fractures or breaks, just bruises,”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. He tried to hide it, but he was relieved at your words. He wasn’t keen on going to the hospital.

“So no hospital?” He asked, watching as you pulled out some supplies. “Just some of that fancy paramedic magic and I’ll be good to go?”

“More like an ice pack and 3 weeks station-bound,” You recover one of the ice packs from a portable cooler on the ambulance, holding out to him.

Buck groaned at your answer. “Three weeks off? You’re joking—“

He stopped as you handed him the ice pack, immediately placing it against the bruised skin. It was instant relief. He sighed at the cold sensation, trying to keep the ice pressed again his skin.

“You’re really going to make me take 3 weeks off?”

“I should make you take off five,”

“Five?!” Buck protested loudly, pulling a face at that. “No. No, I’ll take three. Three weeks,” He didn’t sound very happy about it. Or look very happy about it.

He looked a lot like a petulant child, pouting as he held the ice pack against his bruised ribs.

“Three weeks it is,” You remain indifferent, and it only makes his self-pity more prominent.

Buck slumped back against the gurney, grumbling. He hated being told to sit out of work. He was a firefighter, goddamn it. He was meant to be on the front lines.

But as much as he hated it, he knew you were right. He needed to stop getting hurt. And three weeks was actually a pretty good deal.

Didn’t stop him from complaining though.

“I’m gonna be so bored,” He groaned, pressing the ice pack to his skin with a wince. “What am I supposed to do for three weeks?”

“Clean the engines? Mop the floor? Learn to cook?”

Buck groaned again, mumbling. “All of those things sound boring.”

He glanced over at you, a familiar look in his eyes. It was the look he always got when he was about to do something stupid. Or flirt.

“I know something that won’t be boring….” He drawled, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “A thank you for my favourite paramedic perhaps?”

“You’re not doing anything with that rib, Buckley,” You shake your head at him almost amusedly.

Buck had to bite back a snarky comment. He always forgot how stubborn you could be. Which, he knew, was ironic because he was equally, if not more, stubborn himself.

“Can’t even entertain the idea?” He pushed lightly, wincing as he tried to shift to get a better view of you. “Maybe it’ll help speed up the healing process. A little physical therapy, you know? It worked last time,”

“Last time, you had a bruised jaw, not bruised ribs,” You give him another small shake of your head, rolling your eyes.

Buck grumbled. He knew it was futile to argue with you. No matter what he said, you’d win this one.

“Fine,” he finally admitted begrudgingly. “Maybe a bruised jaw and bruised ribs work a little differently, but still,”

He was pouting again. If it wasn’t for his ribs, he’d have crossed his arms over his chest too.

Your acknowledgment is a hum. “You should sleep sitting up if possible for the next few days,”

Buck groaned again. First an ice pack, then three weeks off work, now he had to sleep sitting up? He was really not feeling this no-physical-activity thing.

“Why do I have to sleep sitting up?” He grumbled, shifting awkwardly on the gurney. “Can’t I at least lay down?”

“Try,” You nod towards the gurney he’s sat on. “Go on,”

Buck rolled his eyes at your response, he was too stubborn to immediately admit that you were right.

So, with a lot of grumbling and a small sigh, he carefully lowered himself onto his back.

And almost immediately, he groaned as pain radiated through his side. “Point… made,” he grumbled.

He put his weight on his arm, pushing himself right back up again, shooting daggers at you.

“Mhm,” You roll your eyes, helping him upright. “That’s what I thought,”

Buck grumbled under his breath as you helped him, still annoyed that you were right. He hated the way he could see the slight smile on your lips as you lifted him up, a small hint of triumph in your eyes.

It was a good thing he was into that, otherwise he might just be tempted to wipe it off your face.

“I hate you,” Buck mumbled sulkily. “Stop being right all the time.”

“Can’t I’m afraid, it’s hard-wired into my brain,”

#9 1 1 #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley fluff #oliver stark #asks 🚒

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sunaluv · 2 years ago

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Hi not sure if you take requests i just saw this idea on tiktok 😭i was thinking if you could write isagi, rin, nagi, kaiser where their fem s/o is talking to a friend on the phone and tells them that she got her brazilian wax done by a guy (it could be any name) IM ALREADY CACKLING JUST IMAGINING THEIR REACTION

i know this is kinda suggestive but since it's not necessarily nsfw i'll just take my chance xD

Feel free ignore if you don't feel like writing it! :*

i feel dumb i literally had to look this up to confirm i know what im talking about 😭

feat: isagi, rin, nagi, kaiser

cw: suggestive, cooch talk

ISAGI

isagi watched as you gently pressed down on your crotch, wincing at the sensitive feeling. you could feel his frown from his spot at the doorway despite the fact you’ve insisted you’re fine.

“are you sure you don’t want me to get you some ice or something, babe?” the bed dipped slightly as he sat down, hesitantly placing his hand on your thigh.

you sighed. “i’m fine, ‘chi. i’m not gonna break.” giggling, you moved to sit up on the bed. “i don’t know why it hurt so bad this time, i think he might’ve—“

“he?” his blue eyes blinked.

there was a pause as you chose your next words carefully. “yeah…he…”

his hands pinned your shoulders back down the the bed, his eyes declaring urgency. “you’re telling me another guy saw your,” he gestured down below with his eyes. “for free?!”

patting his cheek gently, you sighed. “technically not for free, i payed him.”

“baby whyyy!”

“relax yoichi,” removing his hands off of you, you sat back up again. “he made sure i was okay with it, the only girl on shift that day was available half an hour before we leave and i’d rather bear the pain now than on the plane.”

the boy held his head in his hands as if he was betrayed and you had to hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

you walked up to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “if you want, you can come with me next time?”

your eyes finally met as he craned his neck up. “yeah,” he wiped his running nose. when he started crying you do not know. “i-i’ll go with you next time.”

“good god. and they say women are more dramatic.” you muttered, leaving your boyfriend to sulk on his own.

RIN

the car was awkwardly silent as you and rin sat in the parking lot. he had just came to pick you up but was caught off guard by the guy giving you aftercare instructions for your brazilian wax.

“…did he wax you?” he was hesitant to ask.

you were silent as you contemplated the best way to go around this.

“i see how it is.” he obviously mistook your silence. “was there nobody else to do it? preferably someone with less meat between their legs?”

your eyes widened and you had to swallow your laughter. “rin that’s inappropriate. he’s just a waxer.” you regained composure.

“my ass,” he sighed, finally starting the car. “he couldn’t possibly have gotten you right, he’s a guy he doesn’t know his way around pussy.”

“…you’re also a guy?”

“and?”

“do you know your way around pussy?”

he side eyed you, knuckles whitening as his grip on the wheel increased. “i don’t know [name], do i?”

you silence spoke all he needed to know. “then it’s settled, i’ll wax you next time.”

“okay.”

“okay?”

“okay, rin.” you chuckled. “who knew you could be so jealous.”

“nobody’s jealous.”

when you arrived home, you didn’t see rin for the next hour, little did you know he was cooped up in your shared bedroom, watching various waxing tutorials.

NAGI

your legs swung as you chatted on the phone idly whilst your boyfriend played games on his pc.

“how was your brazilian girlll!” your friends voice sounded around the room.

you sighed. “it hurt so bad! you didn’t tell me how much pain i was gonna be in!” you frowned dramatically to the camera. “luckily the guy was nice and gave me a heads up and all.”

the nonchalant demeanor of your white haired boyfriend dissipated as he got off his game at record speed and snatched the phone out of your hand, ending the call.

“…did you just say he?” his brows furrowed and his bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly.

“hey i was talking!” you got up. “give me the phone, sei.”

“how could you let another man see you like that,” he dropped down to his knees dramatically, hugging your torso. “if you wanted to break up with me, you coulda’ just said so ya know.”

“relax you big baby,” you chuckled stroking his hair. “he was just waxing, it’s not like he had his fingers inside of me.”

he squeezed tighter. “don’t say that!” his face pressed into your stomach. “and don’t say ‘he’”

you laughed silently at his theatrics, moving to lie down on the bed.

for the next hour (yes hour :|) you stroked nagi’s hair comfortingly, dismissing his mutters about the poor waxer man who was just trying to do his job.

KAISER

you were catching up with a friend at the football stadium after the match had ended. the stadium had cleared out a bit, leaving you two some time to gossip.

“how’ve ya been girl,” she looped an arm around yours. “i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever!”

you laughed, “i’ve been good, mostly working and stuff.”

the two of you idly gossiped, not realizing there were a few people left. your friend left with her husband, giving you a business card before you met up with kaiser to leave the stadium.

“hello beautiful,” he kissed the back of your hand. “what do you have there?”

you skimmed the front and back of the card before handing it to him. “a business card for my waxer my friend recommended. he did a good job, might get him to do my next one…”

“who did a great job?” he asked incredulously.

you repeated the name of your waxer.

“that sounds like a guys name,” he chuckled.

“because he is a guy…” you trailed off.

there was silence for a couple seconds before a rip sounded through the air.

“kaiser!” you snatched the torn card out of his hands. “why would you do that!”

“he’s a guy!” he stated as if that’s a valid reason. “how can i sleep at night knowing my lady is letting another man tend to her bushes?!”

flustered, you turned your back to him. “stop talking like that!” you held your face in your hands. “…you’re embarrassing me…”

he breathed deeply before turning you around by your shoulders. “i’m sorry, sweetheart,” he peeled your hands from your face, angling your neck to meet his eyes.

“how about i make you a compromise, hmm?” his smile told you just about how unfair this was going to be. “i won’t talk about you tending your bushes if you stop letting other men see it, okay?”

he stuck out his hand and moved yours to shake it before you could protest.

“you don’t play fair, you know that?” you interlocked your hands before heading out.

“of course i know that,” he grinned, pearly teeth and all. “how else do you think i’ve come so far.”

kaiser could now get a peaceful sleep knowing he is the only one between your legs.

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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago

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Trailer park Steve AU part 24

part 1 | part 23 | ao3

cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death

"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."

"Can I help you?" Max seethes.

Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?

"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.

"Who cares?" she bites back.

The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"

"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"

Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"

"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.

"Robin, what—?"

"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"

—

"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.

"An intervention."

Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.

"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."

A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.

"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."

"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.

"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."

'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."

"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."

"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.

"My parents are amazing, thank you!"

"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."

"Like I said: amazing."

Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"

"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.

"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."

She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."

—

Steve’s hammered.

Whoops.

Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.

He meant to get politely drunk.

A socially appropriate amount.

But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.

He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.

Five?

Six, maybe?

Fuck.

“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.

“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—

Oh, no.

Ohhhh, no.

Now? Really?

Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.

—

part 25

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #robin buckley #max mayfield #gareth stranger things #vickie stranger things #my writing #my fic

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little-pondhead · 1 year ago

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Clockwork sneezed.

Then he paused. He never sneezes. He’s a ghost; ghosts don’t get sick. Not since he locked up the last Ghost Virus in his vaults. Why did he sneeze?

He sneezed again. Oh no, was that a headache coming on? His eyes felt tired and his skin was itchy. Was that a tickle in his throat?? Were those spots on his arm?? Shit, time to go check on his vaults to make sure nothing escaped. All hell would break loose if there was a ghost epidemic again.

Clockwork turns to leave the room, and in his haste, his scepter taps the very edge of a tall and thin grandfather clock he’d just been working on. The clock was made from a red-stained cottonwood he’d procured from the heart of Kansas many years ago, and it was gilded in delicate gold that shone with age and looked well-loved. Despite its height, the clock was a strong one, and didn’t tip over when the Ghost of Time bumped it.

It did, however, shift a few of the loose cogwheels inside. A few of them dropped out of the clock, and one even fell to the floor and rolled away. The ones that stayed inside rattled ominously for a moment before settling into their new spots. The clock kept ticking, but the time was off now. It skipped a few seconds, just enough for a listener to notice, before suddenly reversing the hour and minute hands.

Too bad there was nobody nearby to pay attention to the now-broken clock.

—

Danny was a strange boy. He knew that. Everyone in Amity knew that. Even his mentor, Clockwork, called him strange every once in a while. He liked being strange. It was fun being unpredictable. Having a Time Medallion stuck in his chest certainly helped in his shenanigans, since it meant he was technically separate from the time streams. He had pulled off more than one prank on his pseudo-grandfather by using this to his advantage.

Sometimes, however, Danny’s freedom from the time stream caused him more trouble than he thought it was worth. Like right now, for example.

He was simply at home, battling dinner with his sister while his parents were making a batch of fudge. Suddenly, Danny felt the time stream shift and writhe in a way he’d never felt before. He shivered and sneezed, thinking nothing of it. Clockwork made tiny adjustments all the time, there was nothing to worry about.

Except there was. When he opened his eyes, there was now a baby in his house.

One minute it was just him and Jazz at the table, the next, a baby in a red high chair was giggling and clapping along with Jazz as she tried to cut up the double-dead hotdogs into smaller bits for the child to eat.

The baby wasn’t a ghost, Danny knew. But when he looked around, evidence of a baby living in the Fenton house laid everywhere. The rocking chair in the living room now had a side table with two empty bottles on it. Pictures hanging in the hall had been changed to include the child. Toys were scattered around every corner, just waiting to be stepped on. Neither Jazz nor his parents had blinked at the sudden change.

In fact, Danny discovered, everyone in Amity Park seemed to think that this baby had always been with them. Even his best friends and rogues didn’t bat an eye! Danny was now a middle child, while everything else stayed the same.

But Danny knew. He knew something was wrong. This baby didn’t belong here.

He had to talk to Clockwork. He had to find out who this child was.

The child named Clark K. Fenton.

#DPxDC #pondhead blurbs #okay stay with me here #clockwork was adjusting Superman’s clock and bumped it #this messed up the timeline #so baby Clark ended up with the Fentons in Illinois instead of with the Kents in Kansas #Danny: who the fuck is this child #Sam and Tucker: >:0!!! don’t talk about your baby brother that way!!!#oh and the K in Clark’s middle name is literally just the letter K #it does not stand for anything in this timeline

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runraerun · 3 months ago

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AO3 • Harringrove & HellCheer • Rating: T • Beta: @dame-zoom-a-lot • Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Homophobic language, Implied Child Abuse, Neil Hargrove.• Tags: The Fruity Four but it’s Steve, Billy, Chrissy and Eddie. Fuck gender norms. Chrissy and Billy blonde bombshell solidarity, Billy Hargrove Centric, Platonic Steddie, Platonic CaliCheer, but Eddie is so bisexual in this it’s crazy. Lots of fluff but lots of angst. Feminization. SFW.

*Written for @harringrovekinktober 2024!🎃 I spun: Feminization at Steve’s house!✨ (even though this turned into Flufftober. I’m so sorry.)

Summary:

“Do my eyes?” Billy mutters around his cigarette, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“With make-up.” Chrissy clarifies easily.

And with that, Billy nearly sucks back the cigarette dangling between his lips. He coughs, and coughs, and then coughs some more. Has to fucking lean forward to catch his breath, feeling a lot like he did when he first tried that stolen cigarette from his dad at the tender age of twelve. He uses the back of his hand to wipe away the stray tears that had eked their way out during his fit. “No. Absolutely not. No fucking way.”

Eddie perks up, “Ooh. The gentleman doth protest too much, methinks.”

“What the fuck’d you just call me?” Billy croaks, his voice still a little ragged from his coughing.

Or, Chrissy convinces Billy to let her put makeup on him. 💋

“Has anyone ever told you that you have really pretty eyes, Billy?” Chrissy asks from across the fire pit. She’s tucked up under Eddie’s arm, their fingers threaded together over her shoulder.

Billy snorts, “not recently, no.”

He and Steve aren’t nearly as tangled up as the pair across from them are, even though technically they’ve been together longer than Chrissy and Eddie have—which automatically makes them the superior couple, obviously. But… he and Steve don’t really do the whole PDA thing, even when they’re in ‘safe’ company. A lifetime of having to hide will do that. It’s a tough habit to break.

But he and Steve are sitting side by side, their knees pressed against the other’s, and Billy’s got an arm slung behind Steve, resting along the back of the wicker loveseat they’re squashed onto. Steve’s even got a hand high up on Billy’s thigh, fingers clamping down every so often. Under the security of their shared blanket, of course. And that’s enough for Billy. More than he ever thought he’d get to have, if he’s being honest.

Eddie shoots Steve with a look of disbelief, like he’d caught him red handed at something truly reprehensible. “For shame, Stevie. For shame! You’re a bad boyfriend!”

“What? I—well, listen, I think Billy’s eyes great! I just—” Steve flounders before he turns to look at Billy, red in the cheeks. “I’m sure I’ve said something about your eyes before. Haven’t I?”

“Maybe. I don’t remember.” Billy shrugs, a little embarrassed. In truth, Billy remembers every compliment that Steve’s ever paid him. His chest, his ass, his arms—but never his eyes. Not that it’s a sore point for him or anything, it was just one of the things Steve hasn’t remarked on.

“Shit, does that make me a bad boyfriend?” Steve lets his head fall back against the meat of Billy’s arm and groans. “I’m sorry. Your eyes are great. Really! They work great too. Remember that time you spotted a quarter across the parking lot? Incredible.”

Billy feels his ears heat up. With a roll of his eyes, he growls at Steve, “don’t hurt yourself, Harrington.”

“I’m being serious!” Steve laughs, voice going high with guilt, and it gets everyone else chuckling too.

“Well, I think they’re a really beautiful shade of blue. And your lashes are so dark. Do you tint them?” Chrissy asks, eye’s focused solely on him.

Billy ducks his head, sort of hating this sort of scrutiny. He’s fine with being the center of attention if he’s playing basketball or balancing on top of a keg, but sitting here like this? It’s… weird. Too intimate. Billy clears his throat, “look, I’m flattered, Chrissy, really, but your boy is literally right fucking next to you.”

“It’s okay, she’s right; you do have really pretty eyes.” Munson winks as he takes another drag from his joint.

“Jesus…” Billy shakes his head and follows suit, though he’s just smoking a cigarette. Such is the fate of being the designated-sober-guy for the night.

“So you don’t tint your lashes?” Chrissy asks again.

“I don’t even fucking know what that means.” He mutters around his cigarette.

But Chrissy seems immune to the very clear ‘fuck off’ signals he’s putting out. She continues, “Well, do you dye your hair?”

“No.” He answers quickly, a reflex.

“Billy.” Steve says in a drawn out type of way and a tilt of his head. He levels Billy with a look. The little shit…

“I don’t!” Billy huffs, defensive as he readjusts himself in his seat.

But Munson smells blood in the water, clearly. “Ooh. Tell us what you know, Stevie boy.”

Only then does Steve have the decency to look apologetic, wincing, “I really shouldn’t.”

“Yeah because there’s nothing to tell.” Billy widens his eyes with each passing word in an attempt at conveying his unspoken threat. Steve’s getting dangerously close to being on the receiving end of a purple-nurple.

Eddie begins to chant, “Tell us! Tell us! Tell u—” before Chrissy reached a hand over and pinches his lips shut.

“Shush.” She tuts.

“Go on, ba–Billy. Who cares?” Steve raises his shoulders, trying to appear innocent. He pulls his knee back only to knock it back against Billy’s, urging him on.

Billy growls out a frustrated sigh. But at this point it was inevitable. And it was true–who the fuck cares? It’s just the four of them. And they have a symbiotic, assured mutual destruction sort of relationship going on between them. Steve trusted them enough to tell them about Billy, so Billy supposes he can tell them about something as stupid as his hair care secrets. “Fine! Jesus... I put a little bit of lemon juice in my hair when it’s sunny. It bleaches it a bit over time. Happy, you pack of vultures?”

“Ecstatic.” Eddie mumbles out from behind Chrissy’s hold on his lips.

“Sorry.” Steve mutters, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He’s smiling and on the verge of another fit of giggles for Christ's sake.

“Well it looks great. It makes your eyes pop.” Chrissy leans forward, hands on her knees, as if to get a better look at him in the firelight. Billy feels like a damn bug under a magnifying glass.

“And popping eyes are… good?” Billy cocks a brow. Doesn’t sound good. Sounds weird—like something you’d say about Munson, not him.

“Totally!” She says in that high, sweet voice of hers. Then she gasps, like she’s just remembered something important, “you should let me do your eyes!”

His brows pinch as he takes another pull from his cigarette. “Do my eyes?” Billy exhales a thick cloud of white smoke, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Do them up, like with make-up.” She clarifies easily.

Eddie perks up, “Ooh. The gentleman doth protest too much, methinks.”

“What the hell’d you just call me?” Billy croaks, his voice still a little ragged from his coughing.

Chrissy continues, ignoring her boyfriend, “You’d look great! I do Eddie’s make up all the time! I’m going to beauty school, y’know. It’s good practice for me.”

In a way Billy isn’t surprised. Eddie is a freak, after all, and the more time he spends with Chrissy the more he’s starting to realize she’s more or less the same.

“Thanks, but hell no. I’m not… like that.” Billy shakes his head, hoping someone would just change the goddamn conversation already.

“It’s just make-up, dude. It’s not a big deal.” Eddie says casually as he stretches his legs out in front of him, a boot propped up on the edge of the firepit. Apparently not caring if the bottom of it melts.

“You really let her paint your face up, Munson?” Billy asks, still trying to wrap his head around what he’s hearing. Because guys didn’t… do that. Queer or not, you didn’t—unless you were… and Billy wasn’t like that! The wires in his head are crossed, he knows that much, but they’re not totally fried, unless Munson’s apparently were.

“Like the London whore!” Eddie bellows out in a truly terrible British accent. “It’s all very Rocky Horror Picture Show when she’s done with me.”

“Jesus Christ… here I thought me and Steve were the queers.” Billy chuckles dryly.

“Hey!” Steve protests, though Billy’s not sure what about. They are queers. Card carrying, cock-sucking pillow-biters, the pair of ‘em. As fucking insane as that still sounds to admit to himself openly…

“It’s fun!” Chrissy exclaims, voice high, defensive.

“Harmless fun!” Eddie reiterates, voice similarly high.

But there’s no fucking way–

“I don’t like shit getting in my eyes.” Billy grunts out stubbornly.

“Now, that is true. He had to use eye-drops for a few days after he scratched his cornea,” Steve tries to tell his story, but he’s already giggling so damn much that he’s barely fucking intelligible. “I had to sit on his chest and hold his eye open while I put the drops in every single time. I felt like I was wrestling a crocodile.”

“Or maybe he just liked you sitting on him.” Eddie eyebrows jump up and down suggestively which only gets Steve laughing harder, nodding along like he was in on the joke. Christ these two are unbearable when they get together…

“Your lips then.” Chrissy cuts the two knuckleheads off, speaking directly to Billy.

Chrissy’s sweet, but there’s no fucking way Billy’s letting her do that to him. Just the idea of it is… well, not only is it totally bonkers, but it wouldn’t even look good. He’s not… feminine. No part of Billy Hargrove could ever even pass a dainty or whatever. He’s bulky, all hard edges and calluses and scars. He knows he’s hot, sure, but Billy’s not beautiful, even if Steve occasionally whispers it when they’re fucking. But Billy’s not stupid. He knows it’s just something you say. It’s not real. Steve doesn’t actually mean it. “I don’t…”

“You should do it.” Steve says, all smiles. His pupils are blown, eyes gone a little glassy with the high. “Why not?”

Billy narrows his eyes at his boyfriend. “You just want me to look stupid.”

Steve frowns, mouth hanging open in his apparent bewilderment, “Wha-? Why the hell would I want that?”

With a jerky, defensive shrug, Billy answers, “because you get weird when you’re high.”

“Sure, maybe—but I don’t get mean. That’s your thing.” Steve pokes a finger to Billy’s chest.

“I’m just gonna go get my makeup bag!” Chrissy chirps, already up on her feet.

“No–Chrissy, I’m not…” Billy tries to call her back, but she ignores him, disappearing into the bright Harrington house behind them.

“Don’t bother trying to stop her, Hargrove. She’s tiny but she always seems to get her way. It’s like her super power.” Eddie passes on his advice, but Billy just rolls his eyes and grumbles something about not rolling over like a bitch.

When Chrissy comes back, it’s with a fucking suitcase, not a bag. She heaves it up onto one of the glass side tables that creaks and groans under the weight. The boys all watch in fascination as she snaps open the clasp and it unfolds its sides, then unfolds again. It was like a fucking magic trick; the case just keeps getting bigger and bigger.

“There.” She says, hands on her hips, seemingly satisfied. “Okay, Steve, move your tush.”

“Chrissy, I’m not–wait, what are you doing?” Billy’s attention goes from Chrissy to his retreating boyfriend, who’s sliding out from under their shared blanket to stand.

“Moving my tush,” answers Steve, “duh.”

“I was thinking of red at first, but now that I’m looking at you up close, it would overwhelm you. Especially since you won’t let me do your eyes,” Chrissy explains as she plops down where Steve had been, sitting on top of their blanket, effectively sealing Billy in, “so maybe pink.” She holds up several tubes of lipstick to his mouth, humming as she goes.

The corners of his mouth pull down as his brows come together, “Pink?”

Eddie shifts to stand, slapping his thighs as he rises. “Okay, I’m stealing your man, Hargrove.” He threads an arm through Steve’s, “Stevie and I are gonna go see which one of us can hold our breath the longest under the water.”

“For the record, I’m just going to make sure he doesn’t drown.” Steve clarifies as Eddie pulls him towards the pool.

“Come find us when you’re done!” Eddie says in a sing-song voice.

Chrissy just waves a hand over her shoulder in response, more a motion to ‘go away’ as opposed to a farewell wave.

“Those two idiots are going to get themselves killed.” Billy murmurs, stone still as Chrissy holds up yet another tube of lipstick, checking the little color sticker stuck on the bottom.

She giggles, “nah, not when we have Hawkins finest lifeguard here to keep us safe.”

Billy scoffs, gets ready to argue about distractions and inebriated states when pop! Chrissy uncaps a tube of lipstick and the words die in his throat.

“Okay, hold still.” She says, and everything in Billy runs cold. He feels like his heart stops beating in his chest. His lungs solidify. He shuts his eyes so he doesn’t see it coming.

But the expected waxy touch doesn’t reach his lips.

“Billy?” Chrissy asks, in her distinct high, soft voice. It’s strangely soothing. Sort of reminds him of–... Well, another pretty blonde lady who helped him put lipstick on. But that feels like a lifetime ago, back before Billy knew to be ashamed of this sort of thing. Back when he was just playing dress up while the house was empty besides just the two of them. “Billy, if you really don’t want to, I won’t make you. You know that, right?”

And there it is; his out.

The thing he wanted and would have taken a few seconds ago, without hesitation. But… if he’s being honest, he sort of hates that she’s gone ahead and offered it up to him like this. Because now Billy has to make the active choice in this whole humiliating ordeal. How much easier would it have been if she would have just forced him? If it remained out of his hands?

But Chrissy isn’t like that. She isn’t actually pushy. No, she’s… Helpful. Like she could see something in Billy, maybe. The same thing his mom saw. Something Neil had spotted at some point too. Maybe that’s why his dad hates him so much.

Chrissy doesn’t hate him though. Even though he was an asshole in high school, and pretty much everyone hated or was afraid of him back then. But now that they’re out of high school, and Billy’s out out, at least to the handful of people here tonight, he’s surrounded by people that don’t hate him, even though they have every right to. It’s still sort of surreal.

And now Chrissy’s sitting here in front of him on her folded legs, with seemingly endless patience—like she’s got all the time in the world for Billy to work through his impossibly complicated shit. Like how actual friends treat each other, maybe. Billy doesn’t really know. The only real friend he’s ever had turned into his boyfriend, so his frame of reference for this sort of shit is probably fucked up beyond recognition.

But maybe they are friends. And you could trust friends, in theory. He could trust Chrissy, in theory.

“No, it’s okay.” Billy swallows, feels his adam's apple bob in his throat, “I don’t care.” He lies as he flicks what little remained of his cigarette into the crackling fire pit beside them.

She beams, looking like pure sunshine even in this dim, flickering firelight. And fuck, she really is too good for Munson; way out of his fucking league. Just like how Steve is way out of Billy’s. But hey, some people just had shitty taste in men, what’re you gonna do?

“Okay. Well, then pull your lips tight over your teeth–oh, not that tight. Just enough that they’re not–yeah, that’s perfect.” Chrissy instructs him gently, doesn’t laugh, doesn’t make him feel the sharp, hot feeling of shame at any point. Then Billy feels the distantly familiar smooth feeling of lipstick over his mouth. He’s already itching for another smoke, but that may just be his nerves acting out.

“Oh yeah, pink is definitely your color. Eddie looks completely washed out in this shade, but you have those nice warm undertones.” She says, pulling the lipstick along his bottom lip now, taking her time around the edges. It feels like she’s going over his lip line, but he doesn’t comment. Doesn’t risk moving his mouth and throwing Chrissy off. She seems to be completely in her zone. “Dollface looks perfect on you.”

“Doll face?” He frowns. Coming out of his mouth it almost sounds like a slur.

“The shade. It’s called Dollface.” She explains as she pulls back a little, and Billy tries very hard not to immediately wipe all of her hard work off on the sleeve of his shirt. “Can I put blush on you too? I have the perfect shade that would match it.”

“I don’t–... I don’t want to look like a clown or anything.” He mutters, hyper conscious of how different his lips feel when he speaks now.

“It’ll be subtle, I promise. Like mine.” She motions towards her own face and Billy has to squint to see what the fuck she’s talking about. But there is a slight peachy tone to the apples of her cheeks, now that he’s looking for it. “I wouldn’t want to cover any of your freckles up, after all. They’re so cute.”

Jesus… He’s never had this many compliments paid to him so fucking quickly, and all on things that no one ever fucking mentioned. Sure, he gets lots of remarks on his ass and his chest, but those were things he worked tirelessly on, spent hours doing squats and pumping iron. But his eyelashes? His freckles? The blue of his eyes? Those weren’t things he earned. They were just… him. Base model, nothing special, piece of shit with anger issues, Billy Hargrove.

But he nods nonetheless. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She repeats with a smile. She leans back towards her magic make-up bag and fishes out a plastic compact that opens up like a clamshell, along with a big fluffy brush. She swishes it around the pigment for a second before tapping off the excess in a colorful cloud. Billy watches her with an enraptured sort of fascination. She grabs a napkin, and a few other sticks of something before she settles back around in front of him again.

“The trick is to suck in your cheeks, like a little fishy.” She says before she demonstrates it.

And even though it feels stupid and embarrassing, he does the ‘little fishy face’ right along with her.

She hums her approval as she swipes the soft bristles against his cheeks. They catch a little on his stubble. He hopes it doesn’t wreck her brush.

“Perfect,” she coos, soft as a dove. Chrissy snaps the clamshell of pink blush shut and puts it aside before she picks up some of her dark pencils. “Now, I know you said you didn’t want anything in your eyes, but I thought maybe we could try just a water line? You don’t need to, but I promise it won’t go anywhere near your actual eyeball, just your lower lash line. It would really pull the whole look together.”

Billy frowns. Hasn’t he given enough?

Sensing his hesitation, Chrissy continues to plead her case, “it might just tickle, a teeny tiny bit. And if you don’t like it, I’ll stop right away. Deal?”

He hesitates, running his tongue along his teeth as he mulls it over. “It won’t touch my eye at all?”

“Nope. I’ll hug the outside of your lid, I promise. You just gotta stay super still for me, okay? And it washes right off. One lap around the pool and it’ll probably be all gone once you get out.”

Oh, right. Billy had forgotten about how he was going to get this gunk off. He had work tomorrow, and he couldn’t exactly show up at the pool looking like… well. Whatever he looked like now. Billy wasn’t exactly sure. It made his insides squirm.

“Fine. As long as it’s quick.” Billy huffs, readjusting his legs so that they didn’t fall asleep on him.

“Quick as a bunny!” She uncaps the pencil and leans forward.

Her hands are back on his face–only this time she’s pulling down at the skin where his eye bags usually form if he doesn't get enough sleep. Billy expects it to hurt, or maybe to burn a little, but she’s right; it just tickles. He flinches when the cool tip of the pencil initially hits the sensitive skin of his lower lid, but Chrissy remains as patient as a saint, and just waits for him to stop blinking before she tries again. And this time Billy knows what to expect, so Chrissy’s able to do a full swipe, left to right, focusing a little on the outer edge, before she moves onto the next eye and does the same.

“Now,” She murmurs as she retrieves the napkin, “kiss this.”

He screws his face up, “what?”

“To get the excess off. And it makes the lipstick last longer.” She waves the bit of tissue in his face. “Trust me, I’m almost an expert.”

Billy sincerely has his doubts, but he kisses the tissue, blotting his lipstick. It still feels like a lot is left on his mouth, but it doesn’t feel as… heavy. Sort of feels nice, actually. And when he pulls the napkin away it’s marked the perfect imprint of his pink kiss. If he didn’t just finish making it himself he wouldn’t have thought his lips were even capable…

“Do you want gloss?” Chrissy asks, pulling him from his fog.

“Won’t that ruin the—“ Billy points towards his mouth, “this layer?”

She shakes her head, sending her blonde ponytail into motion behind her, “No, it sort of just seals it. And bonus, it tastes like bubblegum.”

Steve likes bubblegum.

“Alright.” He says quickly, with a jerky sort of shrug. He’s already made it this far, he might as well see it through all the way. And it’s not like he’s going to do this again or anything… may as well go full hog.

So she pulls out a wand coated in the clear looking gel and does a final swipe over the top of his lips with it. It feels sort of sticky. And now that it’s sitting under his nose, he really can smell the bubblegum.

“Done!” Chrissy exclaims as she pulls her hands away. She holds them up and away from Billy, as if to reassure him that she’s finished with her torture. “Smile for me so I know I didn’t get anything on your teeth.”

And there’s no way he can give Chrissy anything remotely genuine at the moment, so Billy simply bares his teeth for her to inspect.

“No lipstick on your teeth. And I think I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself.” Chrissy says, admiring her handiwork.

“Yeah?” Billy clears his throat, not knowing where to look. Eddie and Steve are still busy splashing and shoving each other in the pool, so at least he doesn’t need to worry about them. “I don’t look too stupid?”

She smacks his arm with the back of her hand, “You don’t look stupid at all, silly. You look great!” She then starts tidying up her makeup, putting everything back in its proper place. Billy watches her with the same fascination as he did while she was taking it out.

“Your mom teach you this shit?” Billy asks.

She frowns, just a little. “Some of it.”

He nods. His leg bounces. Resists the urge to rub at his eyes. The hard shells of Chrissy’s makeup containers clack together as she rearranges them.

“My mom used to—“ Billy mumbles, quiet enough that he very much doubts Chrissy had even heard him, but when he looks up, she’s stopped putting her things away, and her eyes are on him. Waiting for him to go on.

He clears his throat, doesn’t even know why he’s confessing this to her, but a strange compulsion seems to have taken over him. He feels the words right at the tip of his tongue before he can think to bury them back down, back to somewhere deep within himself. “My mom used to do this for me sometimes. When I was really little.”

It’s something that should be embarrassing. Something to laugh at, like the punchline of a joke. But Chrissy doesn’t laugh. She smiles gently. “Those sound like happy memories.”

Billy frowns—he’d never thought of them as happy, per se. More embarrassing than anything else. Something he can’t look in the eye. Billy ducks his head, feels his eyes sting. He should stop, he knows. Just shut the hell up. Because why the hell is he getting himself worked up over a dumb childhood memory in front of some chick he barely knows? It’s stupid.

And yet, the idea of not saying more seems even more unbearable than eating his words.

“I’d ask her to, when she was in the mirror getting ready or whatever.” Billy explains, daring to meet her eye before retreating to somewhere off in the distance. “This was before I knew it was, y’know… not something boys did. My dad made sure I knew it though, after he caught us. I didn’t ask after that.”

The truth of it is, maybe those memories could have been happy if they didn’t exist exclusively under the shadow of Neil. He can’t picture his mom’s smiling face without also picturing Neil’s disgusted one. Can’t remember how it felt having the make up on his face when the bruises lasted so much longer. He can’t hear the soft words his mom had whispered to him over the roar of the awful names Neil called him afterwards—the ones he never stopped calling him. It’s no wonder Billy’s so goddamn fucked in the head.

Then, there’s a hand slipping overtop of his, small and soft, squeezing against his rough, calloused ones. “I’m sorry.”

Billy feels a rush of emotions, but he’s not entirely sure which direction they’re flowing. Hot or cold.

Part of him wants to stand up and scream at Chrissy that he doesn’t need her fucking pity—that Billy Hargrove doesn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him, that sympathy is for the weak—and Billy isn’t weak.

Some shit Neil would do.

But in the moment, Billy can’t find the strength to do any of it. He just sits there and squeezes her hand back. So maybe he is weak after all.

“My parents were tough on me too,” Chrissy explains, keeping her voice low. “I sort of always felt like a disappointment to them.”

”You?” Billy scoffs, his voice frustratingly shakey, “you’re like, perfect.”

“Yeah, well, some parents are dummies. They get all upset when their kid turns out differently than how they expected.” Chrissy says with a tilt of her head. And Billy knows she isn’t just talking about her own mom and dad. “Dumb, right?”

Billy nods as he sniffs back any congestion that dared try and accumulate in his nose, along with the tears he doesn’t let fall. He blinks a few times, letting the air take them. “Yeah, real fuckin’ dumb.”

Chrissy smiles, and it’s like she’s beaming. Too fucking good for Munson, Billy thinks again as she stands, bringing him along with her by way of their clasped hands. “You ready to show the boys?”

A new wave of uncertainty hits Billy straight in the gut, but he keeps pace with her. ”You sure I don’t look stupid?”

“I’m positive. You should trust me, Billy. I’m like, really smart.” Chrissy insists, a playful giggle on the edge of her words.

Billy scoffs in response, but he doesn’t bother arguing. She is smart. Smarter than the rest of them combined, most likely.

When they approach the pool, Steve and Eddie are so preoccupied with staying underwater they don’t even notice Chrissy and him. Which suits Billy just fine; he doesn’t want to draw any more attention to his painted face than it was already inevitably going to get. They just slip into the shallow end and wait for the other two to come up for air. Or drown.

It’s Eddie that breaks the surface first in a flurry of splashing and gasping breaths. He’d probably catch his breath faster if he stopped cursing for a second, but Eddie’s got one of those mouths that never fucking stops.

Steve is the second to rise out of the water. While Eddie looks like a drowned fucking rat, Steve looks like he’s materialized out of a copy of Sports Illustrated as usual. His hair’s slicked back, but he gives it a good shake and briefly runs his fingers through the strands, somehow making it look just as good as always. God’s fucking favourite, that one.

Billy’s gotta look away because sometimes it’s even too much for him to take in.

“You cheated.” Eddie accuses Steve.

“Yeah, I cheated by not smoking a pack a day for the past four years like you have.” Steve snorts as he backstrokes to the shallow end, followed by Eddie’s doggy paddle.

“So he admits to cheating. I want that on record.” Eddie calls over to Chrissy and Billy, who’ve propped themselves up on the stone steps leading into the pool, patiently (or, impatiently if Billy’s being honest) waiting.

Steve flips around when his feet can touch, and immediately locks eyes on Billy. And then he just. Stares.

God, Billy really wishes he weren’t sober for this. That was sort of an oversight on his part. Hell, he hadn’t even grabbed a cigarette on his way over so he’s got nothing to do with his hands besides letting them hang by his side, his elbows propping him up behind him.

“Holy shit…” Steve mutters, coming towards him like he’s locked in some kind of weird tractor beam.

“Looking good, Hargrove.” Munson says as he crowds Chrissy, who doesn’t seem put off by the attention. In fact, she sort of lights up under it. So weird. “I almost couldn’t tell you two sexy blondes apart.” He winks.

Billy rolls his eyes, grimacing at the remark. He makes a mental note to give Munson a Charlie horse the next time he’s within arms reach. But when his eyes return to Steve’s, he’s… like, struck stupid or something.

“You kill off one too many of your brain cells under the water, pretty boy?” Billy quirks a brow, trying to give what he hopes is a sharp grin, even from behind his pink lips. “You and I both know you can’t afford to lose anym—“

Then Steve’s kissing him.

Actually kissing him.

In front of people.

…They’ve never done that before. Not ever. Not that they’d ever talked about it, but they didn’t need to. Because Steve and Billy didn’t do PDA. It just isn’t in the cards for them. And yet—

Steve seems to hear Billy’s internal struggle and pulls away, taking some of Billy’s bubblegum lip gloss with him, looking a little sheepish as he licks his lips. “Sorry. I couldn’t really control myself there for a second.”

“You’re hanging around with Eddie too much.” Chrissy laughs, and is rewarded by a playful bite to the cheek from Munson, as if to prove her point of his impulsivity.

“You just look so… good.” Steve admits, and Billy’s stomach doesn’t do an entire flip inside of him. It doesn’t. He’s fine. “You look beau—”

“Don’t.” Billy cuts in. He’s already exposed enough, he doesn’t need Steve to wax poetically about his fucking beauty in front of an audience. Even if it is just Chrissy and Eddie.

“But you do!” Steve insists, smiling, going all syrupy on him. Must still be feeling the effect of that joint from earlier.

”I swear to god, Harrington, I will drown you.” Billy gets his hands on Steve’s biceps and keeps him at bay. Steve pouts and whines.

Yep, definitely still high.

“Good luck, he can stay under for like four whole minutes.” Eddie mutters, still sulking about his defeat. Steve throws him a long suffering roll of his eyes.

“C’mon, let’s see if you can win back your dignity with a game of chicken.” Chrissy all but shoves Eddie off. He’s like a fucking leech. Though Steve isn’t too far off at the moment.

“You know I’ll never say no to having your legs wrapped around my head, sweetheart.” Eddie swoons and even Steve has the decency to balk at the audacity.

“Alright, you take shoulders.” Billy sighs as he pushes off the hard steps. He’s a way sturdier bottom than Steve could ever hope to be.

When Steve doesn’t answer, Billy claps his hands on either side of the column of Steve’s neck, hoping the hit’ll knock a little sense into Steve’s oxygen deprived brain. “Hey, you with me, amigo?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Steve finally sputters out, still unable to break eye contact, “Always, baby.”

Billy ignores the way it makes every inch of him feel warm, and fucking. Cherished. God damn. Harrington really is going to be the death of him.

By the time their game of water chicken has wrapped, Billy’s been thoroughly soaked so there’s not much makeup left on his face, save for a slight pink residue on the lines of his lips. It’s for the best, he thinks. It didn’t look right on him anyway…

But when Chrissy’s hugging him goodbye, she not-so-subtly slips Dollface into his pocket and pulls away with a cheeky, knowing sort of grin. He almost cracks a smile before Eddie is glomming onto him, insisting he also is in dire need of a goodbye hug.

Billy shoves him off before he gets too comfortable, and Eddie folds with a manic, downright deranged laugh that somehow, against all odds, seems to be growing on Billy. Will wonders never fucking cease?

Later that night, before going to sleep next to Steve, he puts the tube of lipstick into the top drawer in Steve’s bathroom. Knows it’ll be safe there, like every other god forsaken thing Billy’s given him—including his busted up, worn down, hardened heart—Steve always keeps whatever Billy gives him safe.

#SO self indulgent #kinktober turned into Flufftober I’m so sorry #I am working on a follow up with smut I SWEAR #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham #Eddie Munson #platonic calicheer #the unexpected friendship between Chrissy and Billy 💕💕💕💕#platonic Steddie #but Eddie is so painfully bisexual here #he wants to kiss everyone on the mouth so bad he’s vibrating #stranger things #Harringrove fic #Harringrove Kinktober 2024 #hk2024 #my writing #write Rae write #background hellcheer #I don’t even think this qualifies as background hellcheer because the ship is as featured as Harringrove tbh #so #hellcheer #Billy Hargrove centric #gay Billy Hargrove #Bisexual Eddie Munson #so much necromancy required for this fic to be possible #suspend your disbelief okay everyone lives and everyone’s queer #hgkinktober2024

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lavendertom · 1 year ago

Text

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 6

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

wc: 3.2k

warnings: none! basically pure fluff (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. AU where nothing bad ever happens at the pizzeria.

A/N: this is it 🥹 the ending mike and y/n deserve! everything in italics are flashbacks. i cried tears of joy writing this, i hope you all enjoy this well deserved fluff and fun 🫶 happy reading! btw… u might wanna listen to “yellow” by coldplay towards the end ;)

——————————————————————————

It probably wasn’t the ideal first date, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Technically, you and Mike had been dating for about 2 months now, but he wanted to continue working on himself and focusing on work before deciding to officially take you on a date anywhere. He wanted to save up enough money to do something fun and be able to bring Abby with you guys. It wouldn’t be the same without her there and you couldn’t agree any more.

“Abs what’re you most excited for?” Mike asked, looking at her through the rear view mirror. You sat next to him, holding his hand as you looked out of the window.

“Everything!” she squealed with excitement.

“You can’t decide on one thing you are most excited for?” you asked laughing.

This wasn’t just a big deal for you, but Abby as well. She always wanted to visit an amusement park. The semester had ended a few weeks ago for you and it was Abby’s last day of school just a few days earlier, so what better way to start the summer. After your big conversation with Mike, the siblings also worked on their relationship with each other. It was not easy by all means, but they were closer than ever before. Mike felt it was fair that he did this for Abby after all they’ve been through. He knew how much she’d wanted this and he found a way to make it happen. Anything for his little sister.

“Maybe the big rollercoasters. Those look fun.” Abby said grinning.

“You aren’t nervous at all? What if you’re not tall enough?” Mike asked her.

“Y/n told me I was tall enough!”

Mike playfully hit your arm.

“Okay to be fair I told her I think she’s tall enough. Have you been finishing your dinners Abs?” you asked chuckling.

“Duh, I had to be tall enough to ride the big rides.”

You looked over at Mike, smiling, knowing he was the one who came up with the idea to get Abby to finish her meals.

“I don’t want to eat!” you heard Abby shout from her room as you finished up making some grilled cheese. It was something you heard often from her voice, so it wasn’t surprising. You were used to making a meal and letting it sit on a plate all evening to get cold until just before bed when she’d suddenly be hungry.

You put it on a plate, the plastic wrap already in your hands as you assumed she wouldn’t be eating it now. Suddenly the little girl was right in front of you snatching the plate from your hands.

“I thought I heard you say you didn’t want to eat now?” you questioned her as she sat down quickly.

“I told her that if she doesn’t eat, she can’t ride the adult rides at the amusement park.” a voice said from the other room.

“Is that so?” you stepped out of the kitchen to investigate further. You found Mike sitting in his usual spot on the recliner in the living room.

“They stay tiny forever!” he said once more for good measure, you noticed Abby began eating faster.

“What are you up to now Michael?” you asked as you stood behind him, your hand finding it’s way into his messy dark curls.

“Wow legal name and everything, am I that suspicious?” he said looking up at you.

His brown eyes were no longer filled with that hint of sadness and exhaustion you always noticed. They always seemed a little brighter since you started dating. It was something you noticed immediately.

“You’re not very good at this you know.” you had to hold in a laugh to not make him feel too bad.

“I got the tickets.” he said whispering, trying not to show how excited he was about this.

“Did you really?” now you had to try and hold in your excitement too, you didn’t want to spoil the surprise with Abby in the room right next to you.

“Yup, they’re for the end of May. So a little end of school gift for both of you.” you could tell how happy and proud he was for finally saving enough money to treat both you and Abby. He had been waiting for so long to finally say he had done it.

“Mike she’s going to be so happy.” you placed a kiss on the top of his head.

“I know.” he looked over at her, still scarfing down her food. “Thought I could use that little trick to get her to eat dinner tonight. I promise I won’t use it too often.”

“I don’t buy that for a second Mike.”

“I still have time to return your ticket you know-“

He was interrupted by your lips on his as you leaned over the back of the seat to reach him. It was short but long enough for him to get the point. Once you pulled away, you sat with your chin resting on the back of the seat, just staring at Mike still playing with his hair.

“Can I have more food Y/n?” Abby shouted from the table.

“Sure Abs.” you replied, still staring at your boyfriend, which still felt crazy to think let alone say out loud.

“Stop kissing my brother Y/n, it’s gross.”

“Abs you’re the reason this exists, besides I’m not even kissing him. Not anymore.” you got up, lightly ruffling Mikes hair, saying that last part quietly so Abby wouldn’t hear.

The car ride to the amusement park was long, but it felt like it went by in a breeze with all of the random conversations the three of you had.

Once you got into the park and found your way around, you realized Abby wasn’t messing around. She immediately found the biggest rollercoaster possible.

“You sure you’re brave enough Abs?” Mike asked her. He was clearly getting nervous about it.

“Of course I am Mike!” Abby was the happiest kid in the world, not an ounce of fear in her.

You and Mike followed behind her, your hands laced together.

“Don’t be so nervous Mike, she’s gonna love it trust me.” you said, attempting to reassure him.

“I know.” he sighed. “But what if she hates it?”

“Abby’s one of the most adventurous and daring kids I’ve ever met. You’re never gonna be able to get her to leave here tonight.” you smiled, squeezing his hand. “Are you sure you aren’t scared?”

“Yeah right… I could never.” he sarcastically rolled his eyes at you.

Abby absolutely loved the rollercoaster and you weren’t entirely surprised that Mike did not love it as much. The ride photo was a hit for you and Abby. Abby was having the time of her life, sitting with you, while Mike sat behind with the most terrified look on his face. You and Abby spent a little too long laughing at the photo, Abby making sure to mock Mike as usual. The three of you continued on your adventure for the day as you walked hand in hand with Mike once again, Abby following next to you.

“I thought you said you liked rollercoasters Mike?” Abby questioned.

“Yeah, like ten years ago.” he replied, his voice ever so slightly still shaking from the adrenaline.

“Mike you were only like 14 years old ten years ago.” you were still chuckling at him. “Stop acting like such a grumpy old man.”

“Y/n called you an old man!” Abby started laughing at your accidental diss.

“Yeah, old man is a new low Y/n.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you tried defending yourself, but there was no coming back from this one.

“Mhm…” you knew Mike wasn’t buying it. You also knew exactly what he was fishing for.

Something you found out about the siblings as you continued to get to know them more was their ability to get what they wanted whenever they wanted it. They were both extremely good at it, too.

“Y/n! Can I pleaseee stay up tonight?” Abby begged you as you cleaned up her toys from the living room.

You looked at the clock on the wall that read 9:08.

“Abs, it’s only 9:08 you still have 20 more minutes to read or draw in your room.” you said, still finishing up picking up toys off the ground.

“Yeah, but I want to hang out with you!” she ran to the ground to latch onto your leg, not letting you move anymore.

“I know Abby, but your brother told me you gotta be in bed by 9:30. You can’t get up in the mornings when I let you stay up.”

“Pleaseee Y/n? Now that Mike is your boyfriend, you’re technically my mom now.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works-“ you were slightly embarrassed and intrigued that Abby really thought of you in that way.

“And if you’re technically my mom now, you can make up your own rules!”

You looked at the girl on the ground, still not allowing you movement. She gave you the most heart wrenching puppy dog eyes you couldn’t say no to.

“Alright, fine.” you sighed, smiling. “But only until 10, got it?”

“Got it!” she leaped off the ground, doing your special handshake with you as she got up.

You didn’t realize how late the two of you ended up staying up, it was now 11:30 and Abby was out like a light. The two of you were still on the couch in the living room. She looked way too cozy and you didn’t want to wake her up by moving her to her bed, so the two of you stayed there. You grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and placed it over the two of you.

It was moments like these you cherished most with Abby. She was probably going to be a pain in the ass to wake up the next morning. Mike was also probably going to call you at 7:30am the next day to come wake her up yourself because he “wasn’t the one who stayed up till midnight playing pillow fights with her.” Regardless, these moments were the best. You loved spending quality time with Abby as if she were your own sister. You knew how much you meant to her and if staying up till midnight with her is what makes her happy, you were gonna do it with her. Maybe not every night, but if she really wanted to, Abs always found a way to your heart.

At around 6am, a door quietly opened. The sun was just beginning to shine through the windows of the house. Mike set down his things before he walked towards the living room. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed you and Abby sound asleep on the couch. He quietly chuckled to himself, he knew exactly how the two of you ended up like that.

He couldn’t really be upset though. He knew how much Abby loved you and needed you to be there for her. He also couldn’t forget how lucky he was to have you as his girlfriend. The two of you became “official” just a few weeks ago, but Mike still felt like the luckiest guy in the world to have you by his side.

He sat down in he usual spot on the recliner across from the couch. You started slowly waking up as the sun began hitting your eyes from the windows. You rubbed your eyes as you oriented yourself with where you were. Through your still blurry vision you could just barely make out that Mike was sitting in his chair.

“Good morning Mikey.” you said quietly through a yawn, careful not to wake up Abby just yet.

“Morning babe.” he said with a small smile. “Let me guess, another sleepover night?”

“How did you know?” you said pretending to be surprised.

“Don’t worry about it Y/n. Long as you guys are happy, I’m happy.”

“Are you still going to make me wake her up when she doesn’t want to get up?”

“Of course I am. Still makes me happy to know Abs doing well when I’m not around, and I get to see you just a little longer before you have to leave for classes.”

“Well in that case, I’ll do girls night with Abby every night.” you were starting to get up from the couch, sitting up now stretching the sleepiness out of you.

“You’re too cute Y/n.”

“Mike, stop.” you buried your face into your hands. You had to be honest, you were still getting used to all this dating stuff. As much as his little compliments made you feel like prettiest girl in the world, you still didn’t know how control your reactions over them.

A small smirk was forming on his face.

“Make me.”

You looked up from your hands so quickly. You never realized how he was exactly like his sister. They both knew exactly how to get what they wanted. You got up slowly to not wake Abby, smiling and rolling your eyes, realizing you give in way too easily for these siblings.

You carefully walked over to Mike and squeezed yourself next to him on the chair (or you attempted to, it was more you sitting on him rather than the couch.)

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you in closer. Your lips met his and everything felt perfect. It always did, it just felt right. It was like the two of you were meant to be, always and forever. After probably a little too long, you finally had to pull away from him. The two of you sat with your foreheads pressed together, admiring one another.

“How are you and Abby always so good at getting what you want?” you finally broke the comfortable silence.

“You’re just too nice to ever say no Y/n/n.” he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“And you and Abby are just difficult.” you said through a small laugh.

He pulled you in for one more kiss, the two of you smiling through it. When he pulled away he placed one more gentle kiss on your forehead. You let your head fall onto his shoulder, his left arm pulling you closer as the two of you just sat there. It wasn’t often the two of you had moments like this and you were both taking advantage of it.

“I should probably go wake up Abs now.” you said, wishing this feeling would never end, but you knew it had to at some point.

“Can we have five more minutes? Please?” he asked quietly, still holding onto you like he was gonna lose you at any moment.

And you couldn’t say no those brown puppy dog eyes that looked into yours.

You rolled your eyes with a smile as you leaned over to place a very quick kiss on Mikes lips.

“Y/n! You said you weren’t gonna kiss my brother in front of me today!” Abby said as she looked over with a disgusted look on her face.

“Your brother asked for it Abs.”

“That’s even worse, ew!” she gave you an unamused glare before running ahead of the two of you to her next big activity.

You gave Mike a knowing stare as he smirked back at you while you all continued walking. The two of you always found it funny that Abby was the matchmaker that got you two together, but now she could not stand the thought of you guys doing anything romantic. Ever.

After that, the rest of your day consisted of many activities including playing the prize games, riding tons more rides, and Abby forcing Mike on every big rollercoaster she could get him on.

Once you finally arrived at your final activity, it was like watching two kids in a candy store, quite literally. Abby’s eyes lit up as she walked into the ice cream store, she turned around to face you.

“Have you ever seen this many ice cream flavors in one place?!” she tried to contain her excitement.

“I don’t think I have Abs.” you said with a small laugh.

“Me either.” Mike said as he let go of your hand to begin inspecting every single flavor.

The two siblings spent a good half an hour in the shop just trying to decide what flavor to get. It was quite amusing watching Mike get so excited over ice cream. Out of all things, ice cream is what made him that happy. After everyone finally picked out a flavor (or more) the three of you left the shop to sit and eat your sweet treat.

“Today was the best day ever!” Abby said with a mouthful of rainbow sorbet.

“I have to agree with Abby on this one.” you said while poking at the rest of your ice cream

“I already want to come back and we haven’t even left yet.” Abby squealed.

“Hold it Abs, it’s gonna be a while until we can do this again.” Mike said.

“That’s okay, I can start collecting change so we can buy the tickets quicker!”

“Look at this little girlboss you have on your hands.” you said smiling at Mike.

“Believe me, I know.” he was already so used to Abby’s big ideas.

“I wish we didn’t have to leave already.” Abby said, looking down at her cup.

“It’s okay Abs, we’ll definitely be back before summer ends. Right Mike?” you looked over at Mike with your best puppy dog eyes, giving him a taste of his own medicine. He knew what you were doing. Abby quickly caught on to your idea and followed along.

“Anything for my girls.” he said with a smile.

“I am exhausted.” you said as you all made your way home, the dim moonlight shining through the windshield of the car. The quiet noise of Abby snoring from the backseat filled up the car.

“Pretty good first date, huh?” Mike said.

“More than pretty good, it was perfect.”

“Even with Abby here?”

“Especially with Abby here.” you smiled. “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

Mike looked over at you quickly, not losing his focus from the road ahead of him.

“Me too.” he softly smiled, looking at the rearview mirror to see Abby fast asleep.

“How’d I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“I ask myself the same question every day.”

You leaned your head onto his arm, starting to feel extra sleepy from the quiet hum of the AC and Abby’s occasional snores.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

You slowly drifted off to sleep after hearing those four words. It was all you needed to know, the worlds best little reminder of who you were doing it all for.

Mike looked over at you once again, smiling to himself. After he thought about it some more, today really was the perfect first date. Not the most ideal with Abby there, but after all, she’s the reason the two of you met in the first place.

Mike carefully moved his hand to turn on the radio, quiet enough not to wake you or Abby, but loud enough to keep him awake. The quiet sound of the song “Yellow” by Coldplay now filled the car. Mike smiled again, remembering that this song was yours and his. A constant reminder how Y/n would do anything for Mike and Mike would do anything for Y/n. A reminder for Mike that if he never mentioned this babysitting job to the neighbor across the street, this bond would’ve never formed.

An even bigger reminder to Y/n that taking the job from the neighbor across the street was the best decision she could’ve ever made. A decision that changed her life and the lives of two siblings who just needed a little extra love.

——————————————————————————

A/N: one final massive THANK YOU to everyone who supported this little series 🫶 i hope everyone enjoyed as much as I enjoyed writing. I plan on doing one or two more little cutesy fics in this same AU so keep an eye out for this :) until then, thank you once more. sending each and every one of you big hugs! 🫂

jules jewels 🤗

@balesita @universi8 @browneyedgirly93 @marsmallow433 @prongsprincessworld @ajlareads @k3nnlolz @louweasleymalfoy @chompwoman @wasabidottie @queenie-official @emmaishere432 @curasimp @nevvdrinksteaa @rcailleachcola @scribblesandsherlock @iheartyouyou @prosteticsynthesis @hotgothchick @novausstuff @1-akira-2 @starringo @planetevermore @cherriebat @bethsvrse

dedicated to @mxrvelouss for dealing w my delusions and also feeding into them by letting me write this. love u w all my heart 🫶 the peeta to my bread 🫡

#fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #abby schmidt #five nights at freddy’s movie #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf fic #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt has my heart #the ending mike schmidt deserves #mike schmidt fic

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cupcraft · 9 months ago

Note

Just remembered cuddy’s argument over whether house needed a closer handicap spot or not and saw red. That was her lowest point in terms of ableism tbh. You dont need the parking spot….youre an addict….Shes in a wheelchair…. GET REAL!!!

No yeah that episode should've been unpacked more over the course of the series. She was like "Well technically house the ADA says 50 feet is how much you can walk so that means you're life's fine your spot is 50 feet away teehee!" and he's like "Um cuddy you realize that the ADA is not all encompassing and chronic pain and mobility issues is a lot more than feet to the door like I have to plan my bathroom breaks, when the elevator's out, walking to from my office to the clinic, etc. like it's a lot more than that....?" and she's like um well you're not SUPER disabled bc you can walk so it's not as bad as you say! And as punishment House had to use a wheelchair to "prove" he could handle "not walking" (even though House himself has used wheelchairs before and often uses it in certain settings, ie on planes. and Secondly, it shouldn't matter if he has or not) and forces him and the other doctor to fight each other instead of trying to make the hospital at large more accessible for the both of them. And then when House god forbid stands up to save someone's life during surgery he "cheated" and "proved he wasn't really that disabled because god forbid you stood during surgery!" Like are you fucking kidding me.

#house md #tw ableism #tea.cakes #ask #meta

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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago

Text

prompt from @teaspelledbackwards-blog: something featuring sick Steve being taken care of. prompt guidelines

It’s almost like a culture shock, adjusting to normality after everything is over: to not have to leap in front of others with arms outstretched, his whole body tightly coiled; to not have to always be ready to fight.

And most of all, to no longer need to worry about the big, life-threatening things. Even back then, Steve felt like he’d had a lucky escape compared to everything else they were dealing with—sure his bites still stung, but they were only in borderline need of medical attention.

“Borderline?” Eddie had wheezed through the high of morphine when Steve relayed this. “God help us for what your ‘real emergency’ looks like, Harrington.”

So when it’s just a run-of-the-mill day, and Steve’s head is pounding, but it’s not that bad, he powers through. It’s not like it’s pneumonia or anything; it’s not like he’s dying. It just mildly sucks. Well. Maybe more than mildly, but the point still stands.

He doesn’t really think anything of it, until suddenly Robin is pinning him with a shrewd look right in the middle of their shift, eyes briefly narrowing in a way that kinda reminds him of Mary Poppins—if she’d thrown away the nanny career in favour of putting ‘new in’ stickers on VHS titles.

“Let’s swap,” she says authoritatively. “You take your break now, I’ll take mine later, then I can do the closing shift instead.”

“Um, sure, if you—why?”

“You don’t know all the intricacies of my life, Steve! Maybe I need an empty store to practise for my secret opera star dreams. Maybe I’m having a clandestine affair by the light of the shitty computer. Don’t question me.”

She whirls him round and gently taps in between his shoulder blades, pushing him in the direction of the backroom.

He snorts. “All right, all right.”

It’s only when he’s actually stretching out on the threadbare couch that he realises she’d gotten him to distractedly agree while she joked around.

Then it’s like he blinks, and he sleeps right through his thirty minute break. It’s technically forty five minutes by the time he wakes and gets up. He pushes his knuckle briefly against the bridge of his nose as he heads back to the counter, but the ache still remains.

Robin doesn’t make one crack about Steve’s break running over. She doesn’t even take her own break until there’s no-one in the store, dealing with any of their especially annoying customers herself, including that old man who always insists on having a tangential rant about “kids these days.”

(She’d slid a note over to him halfway through said rant, a scribble in Pig Latin: ‘illkay emay.’ Ducking under the counter to stifle his laughter was a nice temporary distraction from his headache.)

When she does come back from her break, she tosses Steve his jacket and car keys.

Steve stops by the half-open door, stares her down. “Are you sure? I can—”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, go. The literal only plan I had was watching a rerun of Headline Chasers with my dad.”

“But.” He clears his throat, and Robin’s grinning, he knows she’s only teasing, and yet… “But you love Headline Chasers.”

She softens, then sticks out her tongue before replying, “I know.”

And it sounds like I love you more, dingus.

He plans to drive straight home, but then he sees Dustin biking into the parking lot, and he stops mid-reverse, winding down his window.

“Thought you were closing?” Dustin says.

“Yeah, I was. Robin swapped with me.”

Dustin hops off his bike, looks Steve up and down. “If I’m, like, five minutes, could you give me a ride home?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. He can count the number of times Dustin’s actually asked that on one hand, used to finding him already in the passenger seat, waiting expectantly.

He shrugs. “Sure. I’ll fit your bike in the trunk.”

True to his word, Dustin is in and out of Family Video in barely even three minutes. Steve smiles when he spots that he’s rented out The NeverEnding Story again.

“Dude, just buy it at this point.”

“But then I won’t get the excellent customer service on offer, Steve.”

“What, Robin insulting you?”

It’s an unusually quiet but not unpleasant car ride. Steve doesn’t risk putting the radio on, the pain travelling until it’s a persistent band of pressure across his forehead, and Dustin, strangely enough, doesn’t complain about the lack of music.

By the time he pulls up to Dustin’s house, it feels like his bones are aching, his skin prickling and sensitive. He tries to suppress a wince as he parks, briefly rubs at one eye.

“Hey, Dustin, do you mind if I don’t—” He falters, not sure how to politely put, Normally I love chatting with your mom, but if I delay getting home any longer, I might scream.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin says, already getting out of the car. “Stay there, just a sec!”

And instead of slamming the door as per usual, he gently closes it.

Steve only just resists leaning his head on the steering wheel.

Then Dustin is running out of the house, carrying… Tupperware?

“Mom was baking,” he says when Steve rolls down the window again.

“Oh,” Steve says, taking the box, glancing down to see some chocolate cake. “Thanks, man. I should, uh.” He makes to undo his seatbelt, but Dustin waves him off.

“You’ve thanked her, like, a bunch of times, if you do it anymore she’s gonna ask why I’m not a gentleman like you.”

Before Steve can respond, Dustin’s already at his front door, waving as he shuts it and calling out a casual, “Feel better, Steve!”

But how do you…?

Steve knows that Eddie’s in his house by the way that the front mat has been left curled up at the corner from where he’s retrieved the spare key.

He opens the door, sighs in relief at the warmth hitting his skin; Eddie must’ve put the heating on.

“You’re being robbed!” is what he’s greeted with, and Steve chuckles, follows Eddie’s voice to the kitchen, and…

He stops in the doorway.

“You made me dinner,” he says, almost numbly.

Eddie looks over at him from where he’s boiling water on the stove, a jar of pasta sauce by his elbow.

“That’s a kind word for it, but okay.”

“You made me dinner,” Steve repeats, and he has to blink rapidly before he does something stupid like tear up. “Why are you even—did we have plans? Did I forget—”

Eddie smiles warmly at him. “Nah, just passing through,” he says, then laughs when Steve tilts his head, unconvinced. “All right, fine. I might have got a phone call. Actually, two: Buckley got there first, and then Henderson called, gave me shit about the line being engaged, he’s so—”

“You didn’t need to make me dinner,” Steve interrupts. He doesn’t exactly know why it’s this that he’s getting stuck on, but he can’t help it. “I could’ve made dinner.”

Eddie’s smile shifts, turns into something so obviously caring that Steve feels his eyes threaten to burn all over again.

“But I wanted to,” he says. He leans against the counter, eyes flickering over Steve’s face, a gentle kind of surveying. “Besides, you’re not feeling great, right?”

“It’s nothing,” Steve says automatically. “Seriously, I don’t even have a fever. It’s not like I need to go to the doctors or…”

He trails off as Eddie gets closer, kisses him softly on the mouth, then the temple; and there must be a salve on his lips or something, because the awful sensitivity on Steve’s skin feels, just for a moment, like it’s been soothed away.

“Doesn’t need to be the worst thing ever for it to matter, Steve,” Eddie says simply.

Steve affects a huff—Eddie’s always coming out with lines just like that, says it’s the DM’s curse, darling—but he melts against Eddie anyway.

“You use the bow tie shapes?”

Eddie grins, nods triumphantly down at the pot. “Only the very best for you.”

Steve smiles into Eddie’s shoulder. “Dork.”

Tonight he’ll lie on the couch after dinner, Eddie reading with the lamp on low so that it doesn’t hurt his head; will drift off thinking of him, of Robin, of Dustin—knowing that the world doesn’t need to be ending for them to care.

#loved doing the slice of life vibes in this ❤️#loveinhawkins takes prompts #steve harrington fic #steve and robin #steve and dustin #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #eddie and robin #eddie and dustin #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eddie munson

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k-nayee · 9 months ago

Text

Damn, Forreal? JJK

wc: 3.6k

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The day was perfect.

Sun shined bright, casting a beautiful glow over the buildings as a carnival took place in the rural town.

And as event was in full swing, streets filled with laughter and joyous sounds of celebration down below; a high-stakes game of cat and mouse played out on the rooftops above.

The trio first-years of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College (more commonly known as Tokyo Jujutsu High) moved with precision as they attempted to retrieve a finger of Sukuna that's been recently located.

What made the task easy also made it difficult, especially when the finger's presence led to the unwanted attention of nearby curses due to its dark power.

It's a battle of fierce clash, each side fighting with such ferocity it made the very air around crackle with energy.

"Itadori!"

The vessel for the King of Curses was already a step ahead, focus zeroed in on a particular curse holding their given target tightly in its grasp.

With a burst of speed, he closes the distance and lands a solid punch just as it was about to swallow the finger.

The direct hit sends the creature stumbling. Its grip loosening enough to allow Itadori to leap up and grab ahold of the ancient relic.

"I got it!!!" he yells triumphantly, holding up the cursed object with a grin.

But victory was short-lived.

Recovering quicker than anticipated, the curse charges and ram into the teen's chest.

The impact sends him reeling, doubling over with hacking coughs as the precious finger slipped from his grasp and went flying through the air.

Nobara cackles at the sight before exercising the offending curse with practiced ease. "You had one job and blew it! Way to go."

Megumi, ever the stoic and aloof teammate, cast a worried glance in Itadori's direction. "Are you okay?!"

His call for concern is received with a thumbs-up and the pinkette's bright (albeit slightly embarrassed) smile.

"Y-yeah, I'm good!" light brown eyes light up upon spotting the dropped finger rolling away...

"Ah! There it is!"

...right off the edge of the building and into the bustling streets below.

He felt it before he saw it.

Looking up, Itadori's met the deadpanned gazes of Megumi and Nobara causing him to release a sheepish cough "Hee Hee...my bad."

Amid the vibrancy of the carnival stood a corn-dog stand.

The owner?

A sweet old man, whose face, even when marked by the creases and wrinkles of time, still held a spirited smile of youth.

His withered hands worked mechanically: dipping and frying, serving and greeting. A cycle he never tire of, always feeling as if his first day on the job.

Despite the dimming of his vision over the years, his other senses had heightened enough that the joyous sounds of families and the sweet smell of treats in the air painted a picture his eyes no longer could give...

"Thank you, Ojiisan!"

The chirping, cheerful voice brings a warm smile to his face as he turns toward the young customer.

"You're welcome! Happy to please~" Prepared by memory and touch, he carefully offers the freshly made corndog into the giddy anticipated hands of the little girl.

Her mother, watching the entire exchange, pays him with a warm grin of her own. "Thank you once again! Will you be here later? She just love your corndogs!"

"Glad you like them," he responds, tipping his faded hat at her flattering words in gratitude. "But yes, I'll still be here in the park. Tend to rotate every hour or two for better coverage! Gotta make sure everyone gets a taste of these beauts!"

Just as he gives the aging but sturdy cart a playful pat, a soft chime interrupts the moment.

Feeling his pockets for a moment, the old man pulls out a pocket watch before flashing the vintage item to them. "Looks like it's time to do just that..."

As they prepared to part ways, the little girl suddenly stops when her attention is caught—not by the watch, but by something else within the cart.

"What's that?" she asks, pointing a corn-dog-greased finger towards the numerous pieces of papers that basically covered the entire cart.

"That?" he echo, following her line of inquiry.

His heart swell with emotions when his fingertips gently brush along crinkled edges that harbored a world of memories.

"Ah, these are very special papers," he began, voice taking a softer, more nostalgic tone. "It is a gift from someone very dear to me—my granddaughter."

The mother paused, her interest in the conversation evident by the ensuing silence. She gives a smile and gentle nod, prompting him to continue.

"Quite the remarkable young lady; so strong and kind-hearted. Not around much these days though. Off making the world a better place in her own way..." he shares, pride twinkling within his murky eyes. "Before she left, she gave me those protective talismans. Said it would keep me safe from harm."

Fueled by imagination, the little girl leans closer, eyes wide with wonder. "Like...magic?" she whisper conspiratorially, captivated by the notion.

"Just like magic," he confirms with a chuckle. "Might not understand all that sorcerer stuff, but I do know it's her way of looking after me. And with these old eyes not being what they used to be, this little charm makes me feel safe...like she's still with me watching over my stand even when far away."

Satisfied with the tale and now fully focused on the treat in her hand, the child takes a hearty bite of her corndog causing the two adults around to laugh.

With one final nod of farewell, the woman ushers her daughter back into the carnival's lively embrace, leaving the old man alone with his thoughts.

As he watched their blurry figures merge into the crowd, a bittersweet feeling washed over him. They reminded him of his own family—his late daughter and the granddaughter he cherished.

Shaking off the memories, he began packing up his cart, preparing for the move. Methodically securing the lids on the condiment jars, he—

thump

The old man pauses. The sound was soft, easily missed to the average person amidst the carnival's bustling setting.

But to his trained ear, it was clear as day.

Hands hovering over a jar of mustard, his head slightly tilts, listening for any follow-up noises that might explain the oddity.

Hearing nothing more, he lets curiosity win and investigate. He steps slowly around the cart, his aging eyes scanning the countertops.

In the dimming light it was hard to make out its details, but he managed to see a cylinder-like object lying on the edge of the cart.

"Hmm, what's this now?" he muttered under his breath, leaning over cautiously to get a closer look.

Though his eyes was not as sharp as they used to be, it...almost looked like a....hotdog?

Then again, it wasn’t uncommon for things to get a bit jumbled during the busy hours—'must've accidentally left it out.'

"Welp. Can't waste good food," he lightly hums, body moving instinctively to retrieved to still salvageable food; the waste not, want not mentality flaring in his mind.

With a gentle hand, he picks up the object. It felt slightly heavier than a typical hotdog, its texture more leathery than smooth.

He brushes the differences off; attributing it to being overexposed to heat.

Skewering it onto a wooden stick without much thought, he places the hotdog back into the heater next to the others immediately disappearing from sight—and, unbeknownst to him, from the world of Jujutsu sorcerers.

As the door of the hotbox clanged shut, the talismans around it unknowingly casted a veil over the finger, shielding it from magical detection.

Humming a tune from his youth, the old man pushed his cart to the next location with a smile; blissfully unaware of the chaos his simple action had caused.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

"Look at this place!" Adora exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Where should we go next?!"

You followed her gaze, taking in the vibrant lights, the colorful booths, and the enticing aromas wafting through the air.

Hours of getting on kiddie rides and walking around and you still haven't gotten enough of it all.

"Bubba! What do you think of the carnival?" you glance down at your brother, whom you affectionately call Bubba (and he mimics back to you), as he's strapped to your chest in a baby carrier.

The toddler looks around with wide, curious eyes, soaking in the lively scene.

"Carni fun!" He babbles, clapping his hands before reaching out to grab at the colorful lights and towering rides.

Adora face flushes as she coos at his reaction. "He's loving this! You made a great choice bringing him along."

As you weave through the crowd, Bubba cutely announces "Hung'y! Wanna eat!" His small fist tugging at your shirt with growing impatience.

Laughing at his sudden proclamation, you looked at Adora with a shrug. "Time for a food break, I guess?"

Adora nods, eyes scanning the rows of food stands.

"There’s a corndog stand just over there. Looks like they’ve got the good, old-fashioned kind," she says, pointing towards the stand with a grin.

You all make your way to the corndog stand, where the scent of fried batter and sweet mustard fills the air.

The old man behind the counter, still humming to himself, turns with a welcoming smile as you approach. "Hello there! What can I serve you today?"

"We'll have two corndogs," Adora says as she hand over some cash, Bubba excitedly echoing her with a cheerful "Two!"

With a nod the old man, movements slow but precise, prepares your order. He opens the hotbox, pulling out three prepared hotdogs on a skewer.

As he dips them into the cornmeal batter, you can't help but notice a subtle tension in the air—almost as if a wave of electricity washed over the carnival.

You break out of your trance with a nudge from Adora, her smug faced expression coming to view. "Betcha you glad I got your ass up and came out today. Great break from everything...its giving best friend of the year."

Your eyes roll at her antics, instead focusing on Bubba's gibberish with a smile. "I guess you did do your one this time. But seriously though, thanks for dragging us out."

"Anytime! What are besties for?"

Corndogs fried to a golden crisp, the old man hands them over with a bright grin. "Here you youngin's go. Enjoy the carnival~"

You break a piece of bread from the corndog off, giving the toddler something small to digest while keeping the hotdog portion for yourself.

Seizing the moment for a bit of fun, Adora holds up her corndog with a mischievous smile.

"Let's see who can eat theirs the fastest! Loser has to ride the Nightmare Drop," she challenges, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Bubba gleefully eats what's in his hand, slobbering and chewing messily at the bread.

You agree with a laugh, raising your own corndog. "You’re on."

With that, the both of you quickly bring the corndogs to your mouths and start eating as fast as possible. You’re halfway through, about to take another giant bite, when suddenly, a darkness paints the sky.

The crowd murmurs in confusion as people glance upwards, bewildered at how it could be dark in the middle of the day.

Just as you turn to Adora with questions in your eyes, the ground beneath you shakes violently.

An explosion rocks the carnival, sending shockwaves through the crowd. People start running, scattering in every direction as the festive atmosphere turns to one of fear and panic.

You instinctively clutch Bubba closer to your chest as Adora grips your arm. "What's going on?!" she yells over the cacophony of terrified screams.

"Stay close!" you shout back, pulling her towards what you hope will be a safer spot, away from the frenzied crowd.

People scream as terrifying creatures began to materialize from thin air, their hideous forms sending waves of panic through the carnival.

You and Adora are frozen in fear, wide eyes taking in the otherworldly sight as chaos swirled around.

It wasn't until Bubba’s frightened cries did you snapped out it and you started moving, dragging Adora with you once again.

A towering monster comes into view. Its grotesque form swatting away nearby people like flies when it suddenly began to lumber closer.

Realizing it was targeting your group, you quickly unstrap Bubba from your chest harness and usher the 2 year old to hide behind some nearby rubble.

"Stay right there, Bubba. Don't come out until I tell you!" you whisper, a pang of guilt piercing your chest as you leave him trembling but safe.

It’s just you and Adora now, with the cursed creature looming before you.

Despite being shaky and on the verge of tears, you couldn't help but mutter a small joke. "Damn… I didn't even get a chance to finish my corndog."

Adora turns her gaze to you, frustration and fear written on her face. "Are you shitting me-no you know what? Gone head do it now...might as well have your last fucking supper!"

Voices cut through the panic.

"Where is it, Itadori?!" "It's close… right here!"

Megumi and Itadori appear on the scene, their faces tense as they survey the battlefield. Their eyes land on the curse's raised hand before flickering to you standing there with the half-eaten corndog in hand.

You lift the half-eaten corndog to the sky with a sigh as if giving a grim toast. Biting down, you accept your fate with a swallow.

Megumi’s eyes widen in horror just as the curse's hand swings down to crush you and Adora.

"WAIT NO!" he screams, "STO—"

An explosion of cursed energy fills the air, blowing the creature's arm off in a burst of smoke and twisted energy.

The curse bellows out in pain, retreating a few steps as it clutches the bleeding stump. Dust swirls around the scene, cloaking everyone in a gray haze.

As the smoke clears, Megumi and Itadori’s faces twist into expressions of shock and confusion.

There you stand, unscathed, as black markings crawl along your brown face. An unsettling gleam fills your eyes, their once striking silver shifting into a deadly blood red.

Your lips curl as a sultry and sadistic laugh erupts from your mouth, echoing through the suddenly still air.

"AHAHAHA! Finally!" you exclaim, looking down at your hands with glee. "Not the form I'd originally want, but I'll take this over being imprisoned in that brat’s body any day."

Megumi stares, frozen in shock and disbelief. "Oh…"

Itadori watches in stunned silence as the mouth on his cheek, belonging to Sukuna, widens into a big malicious grin. "Shit."

Sukuna's mouth twists into a sinister smirk, the cruel joy unmistakable. "Looks like there was someone else who could survive my power after all."

"Now, all I need to do is kill and absorb that brat's body," you say, pointing at a shocked Itadori, "find the rest of my fingers, regain my full power, and take over this pathetic planet just as I was supposed to thousands of years ago!"

Adora stands frozen, disbelief etched across her face before anger breaks her out of it. "____ are you high? W-what the FUCK are you going on about?!"

Your red eyes snap to her, causing the girl to cower at the weight of your gaze.

Your lips spread into a wicked grin, sharp canines poking out. You raise your hand menacingly. "Perfect. I needed some blood to be spilled anyways… starting to feel like I’m getting too soft."

Just as you're about to swipe at her, Itadori leaps forward and kicks you away. He lands in front of Adora, fists clenched and jaw set.

"Come on, Megumi! We have to stop him before he goes on a rampage." He glances at you, his fist raised in determination. "We got this."

"Ugh… w-we… don’t got this…" Itadori groans as he struggles to his feet, his breath labored and bruises already forming.

Right beside him laid a bloodied Megumi, barely able to lift his head.

You stride over to them, grabbing both by the collars and hauling them up like grocery bags. They groan at the movement, their faces twisted in pain.

You look at them with a pout, mockingly inspecting them like produce in a store.

"Not bad," you say before your playful demeanor drops with a sneer, "but not good enough."

Then, with a vicious kick, you send them flying across the dirt. The two boys land painfully, rolling to a stop as they clutch their sides and gasp for breath.

It was then at that moment Gojo and Nobara finally appear.

"So... what's the damage?" Gojo asks, immediately whipping out his phone and pointing it at the battered faces of Megumi and Itadori. He snaps a few quick photos, his smile unwavering.

"Man, you guys are really messed up....the second years would love to see this! Hey Nobara, get in on this!"

"Ain't gotta tell me twice!" Nobara exclaims, squeezing between the injured duo and holding up bunny signs behind their heads with a bright grin much to Megumi’s annoyance.

His eyebrows twitch with irritation as he tries to scowl, but his battered body protests. Had he not been too injured to move, he would swear his foot would be so far up Gojo's a—

"So... did you find it?" Gojo asks casually, seemingly unconcerned about the state of his students.

Then, Megumi does something he's never done before in all the years Gojo has been his guardian: he sheepishly avoids the snow-white haired male's gaze, his lips pursed in a silent refusal to speak.

Gojo was too stunned to speak.

It wasn't until the nervous um of Itadori did the teacher break out of his shock and finally face the pinkette.

"Yes, Itadori? Do you know where the finger is?"

The first-year nervously and points a finger at you. "She… she… ate it."

"...."

"For real?" Both Gojo and Nobara ask simultaneously, their faces deadpanned.

"For real," Itadori and Megumi answer in unison.

Nobara shudders at the thought. "Ew! What the HELL is up with you guys?! First this booger-eater and now her?! What? Does the mf taste like teriyaki jerky or something?!" She sticks her tongue out and gags.

"H-Hey! If you must know, I stopped in middle school!" Itadori snaps back defensively.

"Okay!" Gojo clasps his hands with a strained smile. "First off: eww Itadori. Now! Can we please get back to the problem at hand? Was she able to gain back control from Sukuna?"

Receiving a unified shake of heads, the Limitless user release a sigh.

"...guess he really found the perfect vessel. No strings or restrictions whatsoever," Gojo muses before stretching with a grin. "Welp! I guess it’s time to get a little serious."

Adjusting his blindfold, Gojo steps forward, grin growing wider in excitement. "Not really fond of killing such a pretty lady, but duty calls~"

"Wait, wait, wait... WHAT?! You're gonna kill my best friend? The hell you will!" Adora calls out, her voice cracking, but she still steps forward defiantly.

Gojo tilts his head in confusion. "I'm afraid your best friend is dead. If you haven't noticed, she's no longer in control of her body. So we have to kill her, unless you want Sukuna to kill you."

"Enough of this!" you bellow as the powerful aura around you radiates in a mixture of red and blue. Gojo raises an eyebrow curiously—Sukuna's aura should have been entirely red. "Time to rid myself of you like I should have the first time."

Just as the two of you charge forward, ready to collide, a piercing wail cuts through the air. "BUBBA! BUBBAAAAA!"

Your gaze snaps toward the cry, dodging Gojo's attack you freeze mid-step.

"Bubba? [Brother name]?" The tattoos on your face slowly begin to fade, confusion etching across your features.

A snarl emerges from Itadori's cheek, Sukuna's voice seething with disbelief. "What? NO! IMPOSSIBLE. Not only the brat, but you too?!"

You start looking around frantically, searching for the source of the cry. "[Brother's name]!"

"BUBBAAAA!" The cry rings out again, and your head snaps toward the direction only to see the same curse from earlier, this time holding your little brother as it prepares to swallow him.

Horror washes over your face, and you release a gut-wrenching scream, "[BROTHER NAME]!"

A powerful burst of blue aura explodes around you as you sprint across the ground, leaping up in time to pull your little brother into your arms just as he drops into the curse's mouth.

Your momentum carries both of you down into the gaping jaws, and the curse swallows you whole.

For a moment, silence falls over the scene, everyone trying to process what just happened:

The curse happily rubs its bloated belly, gleefully muttering a "yummy yummy" in satisfaction.

Adora lets out a scream of disbelief, slowly sinking down to the ground in shock.

Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi could only stare, their eyes wide while Gojo scratches the side of his head with a bemused expression. "Well shit...that just happened."

Moments after his words hang in the air, the curse stops moving. Its eyes widen in sudden panic as its body begins to swell uncontrollably.

Right before it bursts, it utters a confused, "Uh wh—"(uh oh).

The curse's body explodes, energy rippling through the area with strong winds. When the dust finally settles, steam rises up from the newly made crater in the ground.

And in the place where the exorcised curse once was stood you, with Bubba securely attached to your chest in his baby strap.

A swirling aura of red and blue surrounds you, one eye glowing crimson while the other shines [eye color].

You look down to see Bubba already gazing up at you, his chubby hands grabbing your face as he coos softly, "Bubba, Bubba."

"Once again... that just fucking happened."

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