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#she just looked at me like okay now i get the chicken
list4r · 16 hours
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“Eat it or no tv for you.”
“No!”
“Oh cmon you eat this every day, why not now?”
“I don’t want it! You didn’t do it right!”
“It’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Ain’t no right way to do it baby.”
Toji narrows his eyes at the little girl who refused to eat the sandwich he made for her. Correction: the fifth sandwich he had made because “he didn’t do it right.” If he had known this is what having a kid would be like he would’ve studied the basics of sandwich making for toddlers. Ridiculous.
“Well can you tell me the way you want it? I’m not sure what the right way is.”
“I want it like how mommy does it!”
“Well mommy is at work.”
“Then I don’t want it.” The face she makes remind him of you, she’s basically a carbon copy of you personality wise. That tiny face scrunched up when she hears or sees something she doesn’t want. It was amazing how easily she could get anything she wants, Toji was wrapped around her tiny little finger.
“Okay I’ll do it again.” He repeats the same routine of grabbing the bread and putting the peanut butter then the jelly on it. Thinking maybe he cut it wrong he decided to cut it in fours. A bad idea by the way because he is immediately hit with the hysterical cries of his toddler.
“Wait hey hey no no- don’t cry. What’s wrong? Did I do it wrong again?”
“I’m telling mommy you starving me and being a meanie daddy!”
“I’m not a meanie daddy, that’s not nice to say.”
“Uh huh!”
“Nuh uh…. Brat.” Toji scoffs as he looks around to find anything to soothe the crying child. “You want chicken nuggets? Pretty sure we got the dino ones you like so much.”
“I want- *sniffle* sandwich.”
“I made you like a 100 of them but you didn’t want them.. I don’t know what you want me to do-“
The sound of your keys turning in the door cut off his words, Toji lets out a sigh of relief. “Baby.. thank god you’re here.” He greets you with a kiss and helps you out of your outerwear, a routine you two have developed over the years.
“Why is she crying Toji? Awww what’s wrong sweetheart?” You pick up the child, holding her close as you wipe the tears off her cheeks.
“Daddy won’t feed me!”
“Wha- don’t lie to your mom like that. She just didn’t want what I made her that’s all.”
Turning to him you raise an eyebrow “what did you make for her?”
“What she always eat for lunch. Fuckin nasty ass peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“Don’t call her food nasty in front of her. How did you make it?”
“Like how any normal person makes it.” Toji shrugs, wondering why such a question was asked.
“You have to do it a certain way or she won’t eat it.
“So she said. So I put the peanut butter-“
“No it’s the jelly first Toji.”
“What the fuck? I didn’t know there was a certain way.”
You place the child back down, gathering the ingredients. “It’s always jelly first then the peanut butter, on separate breads too don’t mix them and don’t put too much. Then cut the crusts off and cut them into three rectangles.” You say as you perfectly demonstrate how to make the sandwich. “If you don’t do it like this she won’t eat it. Learned it the hard way- here you go sweetie.”
“Thank you mommy!”
Toji scoffs at the scene, earning a giggle from the little girl happily munching away. “Tch… yeah okay I’ll remember that next she demands it.” He pretended to be annoyed but the happy giggles from his little girl cause his mouth to turn on both corners. Honestly he has a lot to learn about his dad business but having you by his side definitely makes things easier.
“Seriously, ain’t shit easy about raising a child.”
“What can I say? I’m just the best”
“Hm yeah she definitely gets her attitude from you.”
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fayeandknight · 1 year
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Took the dogs on a really cool hike that featured ruins from several stone structures that were part of an estate from the 1940s. I love hiking and old places and glimpses into the past so it was super neat. I particularly enjoyed the old pump house and seeing how they used its location to best service all the other buildings.
For the most part the dogs enjoyed themselves and did really well. There were some moments with Forte that concern me that I'll make a separate post about.
Faye was an absolute rockstar, taking on the roughly 6 miles of rocky terrain without slowing down at all. She also did amazing at the tap house we went to for dinner. Normally she isn't the biggest fan of chilling right next to another dog, preferring a bit of space. But she tucked under the table (outside/pet friendly) with Forte without complaint (and both were paid in chicken).
It was a nice way to spend the last day of the holiday weekend.
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megumi-fm · 4 months
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#okay random story time i don't know why im narrating this or how i even stumbled upon this memory rn#but i generally do sad vents in the tags and for a change this is a funny one#so back in highschool (i say highschool but i mean junior college) i used to visit this park near my house a lot#i was an sg kid back then and the thing about parks there is that they're kinda beach-parks and they have the best cycling/running tracks#they're also really massive parks so i used to go often. sometimes bicycling. other times walking. yeah. the park was like my sanctuary#anyway. there are quite a few bike rental areas in the park and there was a cute lil shop next to this one particular rental place#and they sold like biscuits and water and icecreams and stuff and i went there a lot#and on one particular day i went there and there was this guy around my age part timing at that shop#now again this might be culture specific bc i dont see it in india but part timing in uni/pre-uni is pretty common is sg#a lot of shops and restaurants employ teenagers to twenty something ppl for part time jobs... anyway im just adding context#point is that i had walked to the park with my mum that day and she told me to go buy a couple icecreams so i went to the shop#and i saw this guy around my age and like. not to be a simp but this dude was so pretty?#like he saw someone had come to the counter so he looked up and shot a smile and i thought i got slapped by sunlight#i could spend the next several lines going on about his pretty tan skin and his glowing raven eyes but this is pathetic enough so ill stop#anyway he saw me and smiled really wide (customer service smile- i thought to myself) and i smiled back and asked for icecreams or whatever#and then this guy started getting chatty right. so he was all 'you come here (to the park) often right? ive seen you with your bike a lot'#see now. the problem with me is that i always think im bothering people. this poor dude was attempting to make conversation#and i was replying with one word answers#and i wasn't even realizing that he didnt want that. bc he kept asking more questions and i. kept. shutting them down.#then when he gave me the icecream he was all 'are you here alone? icecream alone is no fun... i could keep you company if you want..?'#which. he was being really cute about right. but because im so fucking dense i was all 'oh no i came with my mom actually'#and he went 'aw man' in this really cute but faux sad way which i didnt understand at the time and i left and then#after three full fucking days. i realized this man was tryna hit on me?#and then i went to the park like a week later and he was gone. poof. i even thought of asking the uncle in charge of that place#then i got too embarrassed and chickened out#yeah so turns out my neurodivergence neutralizes any sort of rizz that comes my way#i could've been chilling with a cute boyf rn but no😩 this is my destiny#megumi in the tags
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classyrbf · 2 months
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YOU'RE PREGNANT! — JJK MEN
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SYNOPSIS...how the jjk men(toji, gojo, geto, nanami, choso) act when you’re 9 months pregnant and ready to pop
INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader is pregnant (obvi), mention of mood swings, cravings, emotional reader, jjk men being great dads
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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TOJI
toji has already dealt with this kind of thing before when it came to megumi, but it’s been so long that he’s almost forgotten what it was like. You’re waddling around the house, a stank look on your face as you stare at him. “Yes?” He questions, eyebrows raised. “I want food,” you simply answer. “Okay, what do you want?” He asks. And when you tell him you’re not sure, he lets out a long sigh because he knows this is gonna end in you getting emotional. You’ll complain your back hurts, your feet hurt, and then you’ll end up cursing him out for putting a baby in you. So all he does is walks over to you, and hugs you because he’d rather do that than get into a stupid argument about food. “Toji!” You cry into his arms. “I’m just so hungry and I don’t know what to eat!” You sniffle. To help with your problem, he starts listing off every fast food restaurant and food he could think of in hopes you’d find one appealing enough. “Chinese food?” He shrugs. You gasp with excitement. “Ugh, yes! Me and the baby could go for some orange chicken!” You smile. Toji just chuckles, “making the call right now, sweetheart.” He watches as you waddle over to the couch, smiling like a kid in a candy store.
GOJO
ever since he found out you were pregnant, he was at the stores buying whatever supplies he saw, doesn’t matter if you needed it or not. And till this day, when you’re about a few weeks from popping, he’s still buying the baby things. “What do you think of this, eh?” He smirks, holding up a onesie that says “my dad is the best”. “You’re gonna spoil her rotten, is what I think,” you groan as you reach into the bag to see what else he bought for your daughter. “More toys?” You hold up a fake set of plastic keys. Gojo snatched them from you. “I’ll have you know that she will be learning life skills at a very young age, thank you very much,” he scoffed. All you did was laugh, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Your daughter’s room was filled to the brim with clothes, toys, blankets, you were starting to wonder if you had any more room. “I can already tell she’s going to be a daddy’s girl,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your belly. “Yes she is,” Gojo leaned in towards your very plump belly, “isn’t that right?” He placed a kiss on your stomach.
NANAMI
nanami is the type that doesn’t let you do a damn thing by yourself. You’re reach for something to high on the shelf, he’s sprinting towards you, ready to be at your service. “Be careful,” he says, rubbing your back. “Kento, I got it,” you chuckle. His eyes are always on you, watching your every move. Especially when you’re in public, he hates when people get too close to you. He knows others don’t watch their surroundings and could easily bump into you. “Ken!” You shout from the bedroom. “Yes?” He peeks his head around the corner. “Can you help me get my shoes on, I can’t even reach,” you pout. Within seconds he’s on his knees, slipping on your sandals, and tying them around your ankle. He will even go as far as to paint your toes if you forgot because he knows how much you hate not having them done. Like I said, he won’t let you do a thing by yourself. “Thank you, Ken,” you kiss his lips.
GETO
geto literally pampers you. I’m not saying he acts like nanami, but I’m saying that he makes your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. “Sugu, baby, can you rub my feet? They’re swollen.” You frown. “Of course.” He grabs the lotion and casually massages your feet while you’re both watching a movie, and literally over the course of your pregnancy he’s become the best masseuse ever. He’ll also randomly creep up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before lifting your belly, feeling the weight off of your back. “Feel better, mama?” He kisses your cheek. “So much better.” You nod, closing your eyes as you embrace the moment. You’ve even found it hard to shower while being pregnant and geto takes it upon himself to help you, albeit jumping in the shower with you or sitting on the edge of the tub while you’re in the bath. “Is the water too hot?” He rubs the soapy water over your shoulders. “It’s perfect.”
CHOSO
I’m sorry but choso is clueless. Not in a bad way, but in like a panicky way. You’re an emotional wreck through your pregnancy, moods swings like crazy. “Can you just get out please?!” You’re annoyed with him, bothered about the littlest thing ever and then in the next two minutes you’re walking out the room just crying and apologizing to him, kissing his cheek. He has no idea what the hell is going on, and you’d think he’d learn after nine months, but no. All he can is just sit there and comfort you. “It’s fine,” he assures. He gets your favorite food that you’ve been craving for the past two weeks, eating it non stop and then within a split second you’re gagging, pushing the food away. “Oh my gosh, Choso! Please throw it away, it tastes so bad.” You gag again. “But…I…you were just eating this yesterday…?” He’s says, confused before throwing the bowl of food in the garbage. Quite literally doesn’t understand anything, just confused to all hell, but he’s trying his best.
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yoursjaeyun · 2 months
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enhypen’s hyung line reaction to their 3-year-old daughter being angry at them ᡣ𐭩
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pairings. enhypen x fem!reader | genre. fluff, imagines | wc. 1k+ (?) | warnings. not proofread | an. hai i have returned from my grave :] /gen hope you all like thisbekdnd promise i’ll come back w something better ! just starting off with something small for the time being <3 didn’t expect this to be so long so i apologize :[ love n miss u all.
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이희승 (lhs)
it was a typical afternoon in the lee house, but today, a dramatic showdown was in full swing. your 3 year old daughter, with her puffed-up cheeks and a frown that could rival a storm cloud, was clearly upset with her dad. you watched from the kitchen, trying to hold back a laughter, as heeseung crouched down at her eye level, desperately trying to placate her. "sweetheart, what's the matter? did daddy forget something?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and confusion. she crossed her arms and glared at him. “you didn’t let me use the purple crayon!” she declared, as if this was the most grievous of parental offenses. heeseung, ever the diplomat, knelt down and tried to reason with her. “but princess, the purple crayon is for special drawings, remember? you promised to use it for your masterpiece.” her response was a huffy, “but i wanted to color the sun purple!” heeseung blinked, clearly trying to understand the logic behind a purple sun. he scratched his head and gave you a helpless glance. you only stifled a giggle and watched as he continued to negotiate. “okay, how about this,” heeseung began, putting on his best ‘super serious dad’ face, “i’ll make you a deal. you use the yellow crayon for the sun today, and tomorrow, i’ll let you draw a purple sun, a purple moon, and even a purple spaceship.” her eyes widened at the promise of interstellar coloring adventures. she uncrossed her arms and considered the offer. “deal,” she said, but not without giving him a stern look. as heeseung breathed a sigh of relief and stood up, you could see the sheer relief in his eyes. “you’re the best, daddy,” she said, her pout melting into a smile as she grabbed her yellow crayon. heeseung ruffled her hair and gave me a warm glance, his eyes twinkling with affection. “glad to be of service, princess,” he said, smiling as he watched her eagerly scribble away and winked proudly at you as you leaned against the counter, catching his eye with a loving smile.
( the rest under this line! )
박종성 (pjs)
it was one of those rare, peaceful evenings when the chaos of daily life seemed to take a break. you were curled up on the couch with a book, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility, while your husband was in the kitchen, attempting to cook dinner—a task he was only slightly more adept at than his three-year-old daughter as she created abstract art with spaghetti. the quiet, however, was abruptly shattered by a high-pitched wail. you looked up, immediately recognizing the sound of your daughter’s tantrum. you sighed and set your book aside, heading towards the source of the noise. as you reached the kitchen, you saw jay standing there, looking bewildered, while your daughter sat on the floor, her face scrunched up in a fierce scowl, tears streaming down her cheeks. jay was holding a spatula in one hand and a half-cooked piece of chicken in the other. “what happened?” you asked, trying to suppress a smile as you took in the scene before you. jay looked up, his eyes wide. “i don’t know! i was just trying to make dinner, and she—” he pointed to his daughter, who was now dramatically flailing her arms. “she’s mad at me for some reason. i didn’t even get to ask her how she wanted her chicken cooked!” you knelt beside her, who immediately stopped crying as if she’d just noticed you for the first time. “sweetheart, what’s wrong?” you asked gently. she glared at jay with all the intensity her tiny frame could muster. “daddy’s mean! he put peas in the pasta! i hate peas!” jay’s eyes widened in surprise. “i thought you liked the green bits of happiness!” she shook her head angrily. “no! no peas! only noodles!” you suppressed a chuckle and gave jay a sympathetic glance. “well, jay, it looks like you’ve got a culinary crisis on your hands.” jay groaned and you only smiled, your heart softening as you looked at the chaotic but lovable scene before you. “it’s okay, baby. just talk to her. maybe she’ll understand if you explain why you added the peas.” jay took a deep breath and crouched down to her level. “my sweet angel, i’m really sorry. i thought the peas would make the pasta taste better. can you give daddy another chance?” she stared at him, her little brow furrowed as she considered his plea. “but... no more peas?” jay shook his head earnestly. “no more peas. i promise. just delicious, no-green-thing pasta.” her frown slowly began to waver. “okay... but i want a strawberry smoothie please..” jay looked at you, his face a mix of relief and exhaustion. “do i look like a smoothie-making machine?” you laughed softly and gave him a reassuring kiss on the lips. “you’re doing great. and don’t worry, i’ll handle the smoothie.” jay smiled weakly and reached out to her. “deal?” she nodded, finally letting go of her anger and allowing a small smile to form. she reached up for a hug, which jay gladly accepted, pulling her into his arms. you watched the tender moment between them.
심재윤 (sjy)
jake’s face twisted into a comedic mix of confusion and concern as he tried to navigate his three-year-old daughter’s latest meltdown. you watched from the kitchen, holding back your laughter as jake, ever the doting father, attempted to reason with his little girl, who was currently giving him the coldest of shoulders while clutching a teddy bear like it was her lifeline. “baby girl,” jake said, crouching down to her level with a look of exaggerated seriousness, “i’m really sorry about the ice cream. i didn’t know you wanted bubblegum, okay? i promise i’ll get you the bubblegum next time.” her little brows knitted together, her lips in a small pout that would’ve melted anyone’s heart, except she seemed intent on maintaining her grudge. “no, daddy! you forgot the sprinkles!” jake’s eyes widened as if he’d been struck by a thunderbolt. “oh no, sprinkles! i knew i forgot something!” he straightened up, looking around as if sprinkles might magically appear in the room. “i’ll get you some right now.” as he stumbled off to find the elusive sprinkles, you couldn’t help but interject, your amusement barely concealed. “jake, honey, i think the sprinkles are a lost cause. maybe just a hug will fix this?” jake’s face fell slightly, but he quickly squared his shoulders and marched back over, now armed with a massive, exaggeratedly apologetic grin. “baby, i’m so, so sorry for forgetting the sprinkles. how about a hug and a promise to never forget them again?” her stern face softened just a fraction, but she still shook her head. “no hug! i’m mad!” you watched as jake’s comedic struggle continued, every attempt met with her determined frown. “okay, what if i also give you a big, extra special hug from me?” jake tried, eyes wide with hope. she looked at you, then back at jake, as if weighing the merits of his offer. with a dramatic sigh that would put a soap opera star to shame, she finally relented and held out her arms. “okay… but only if mommy hugs me too.” jake practically beamed with relief, enveloping her in a bear hug, which she returned with all the fierceness a three-year-old could muster. you joined in, laughing softly as you wrapped your arms around them both. “there we go, the family hug fix.” jake looked up at you with a mock-solemn expression, his eyes twinkling with the kind of mischief you knew all too well. “i’m really going to work on those sprinkles. maybe i should just carry them with me at all times.” you raised an eyebrow, smiling. your daughter now placid and cuddled in the middle, looked up at her parents with a satisfied grin. “but daddy has to do better next time.” jake nodded solemnly. “you got it. i’ll be the best sprinkle-and-ice-cream-daddy there ever was.”
박성훈 (psh)
sunghoon’s reaction when his little princess gets mad at him is always a sight to see. one afternoon, as you were trying to tidy up the living room, you heard the telltale stomp of tiny feet approaching. your daughter, with her pouty face and crossed arms, stormed into the room, her small brow furrowed in the most dramatic fashion. "daddy, i’m mad at you!" she announced with the seriousness only a three-year-old can muster. sunghoon, who had been helping you clean the coffee table, immediately straightened up, his eyes wide with concern. he was always so attentive, especially when it came to his little girl. you couldn’t help but chuckle at how seriously he took her tantrums. he knelt down to her level, “why are you mad at me, princess?” he asked, his voice as soft and gentle as it could be. she folded her arms tighter and gave him the classic toddler response: “because you didn’t help me with my puzzle!” she pointed to the half-finished puzzle on the floor, her tiny finger jabbing at the pieces as if they were to blame for her frustration. sunghoon’s face fell into a comically exaggerated look of guilt. “oh no— i’m so sorry! i was just finishing up, but that’s no excuse. let me help you right now.” he scooped her up with a dramatic flourish, and she squealed with both surprise and delight. as he carried her back to the puzzle, you could see the determination in his eyes as if he were about to perform a rescue mission. sunghoon took his job as a dad very seriously, and his efforts to mend the situation were both endearing and slightly over-the-top. “okay,” he said, placing her gently on the floor next to the puzzle. “i promise i’ll make it up to you. daddy’s going to fix this puzzle like a superhero,” with exaggerated movements, he started picking up the puzzle pieces and placing them in the correct spots. he made goofy sound effects with each piece, “whoosh!” and “bam!” as if he were fighting a villain instead of just putting together a puzzle. your daughter watched him with wide eyes, her previous anger melting away into giggles as sunghoon made silly faces and pretended to struggle with the puzzle pieces. as he worked, you could see the loving glances he would cast your way, his silent way of saying, “i’m doing this for us.” despite the chaos of parenting and the little disagreements, his devotion to both you and your daughter was always evident. his playful attitude and willingness to dive headfirst into whatever made his daughter happy were qualities you adored. after a few minutes, the puzzle was complete. sunghoon triumphantly held up the finished product with a loud— “ta-da! daddy’s superhero skills save the day,” he declared, his grin as wide as ever. your daughter clapped her hands and giggled, her earlier irritation forgotten. she threw her tiny arms around him in a hug, her face lighting up with joy. “thank you, daddy!” you walked over and gave sunghoon a quick kiss on the cheek, your way of showing your appreciation for his efforts. “looks like you’ve earned the title of super dad,” you teased. sunghoon beamed at you, his pride evident. “anything for my girls.”
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princessbrunette · 1 month
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can’t stop thinking about babydaddy!rafe taking toddler!daughter out for the day because you have plans — and he’s not really sure what the best way to entertain a toddler is, so he takes her to the drive-through zoo.
she seems happy enough in her car seat in the back, the buzz-cut kook checking her through the mirror every so often until they arrive there. “alright, y’ready to see some animals? huh?” he coo’s, craning round to look at her as she squeals and bangs her chubby fists in excitement. “yeaaah. you look excited. looove animals, just like mommy — don’t you?” he pulls into the ticket booth, scanning the code on his phone before they let him in, rafe’s large expensive car crawling slowly up the cobblestone.
it’s hard to know if she’s enjoying the sights at first, blinking her big round eyes at the sights that pass her. until of course, she’s confronted with her favourite animal. the animal she was most excited about when daddy told her they were going to the zoo.
“camel!” she yells, and rafe lets the car sit still, the two gazing out their assigned windows at the dusty animal boredly inspecting some grass. “camel from the book, daddy!” she babbles in baby talk, and though he’s got no clue why she’d be so excited over a camel of all animals, or what ‘book’ she’s babbling about — he entertains it anyway.
“thats right, peanut.” he croons, turning in his seat once again to look her way, sunglasses rattling against his chest where they hang from his polo. the camel comes a little closer to the car, and despite your strict instruction — rafe unwinds his daughters window just a tad. “look at thaaat, huh?”
“camel! camel!” she clasps her hands together — the spitting image of you and rafe smiles, all warm and genuine. it was a real shame you couldn’t come today. the camel looks right through the window at his little girl before spitting in disinterest on the ground and continuing to trot away. rafe kisses his teeth.
“yeah walk away from my little girl, rude ass bitch.” he lets slip. it’s quiet, but he knows he shouldn’t say it anyway. luckily for his little girl, she didn’t seem to mind or notice the camels disinterest, happily humming to herself as rafe continues to slowly drive the car along the cobble once more. there’s a couple of seconds of silence — and just as rafe is about to fill it, asking if she’d wanna see the monkeys next, your daughter speaks up.
loud and unabashed, she grins. “bitch!”
rafe blinks, head whipping round to glance at her. “oh sh— uh, nah. honey we don’t uh, we don’t say those things alright? s’a bad word. your mommy will kill me if she hears y—”
“bitch! bitch bitch bitch!” she giggles, clapping her hands together. rafe presses his lips together at his only mistake.
“hey, language kiddo.”
the rest of the day is spent filled with distractions for his little girl. ensuring she forgets all about that naughty word by buying her whatever useless stuffed animal from the drive in zoo, whatever chicken nuggets from the restaurant that she’ll barely nibble on, repeating whatever silly joke that makes her cackle. he’s convinced it works, and soon — even rafe forgets all about the incident.
she’s practically asleep by the time rafe’s handing her back to you at the end of their day.
“was everything okay? did you take pictures?” you smile, looking tired from whatever chaotic day you’d had but still beautiful nonetheless. rafe blinks himself out of a stare quickly, going to answer.
“no yeah, loads uh… i’ll send ‘em through when i get home.” he nods, wiping his hands on his pockets watching the toddler stir, now back in her mothers arms. she gives you a tight cuddle before sleepily craning round to look at rafe, hair all messy and one eye still stuck shut.
“say bye to daddy.” you coo quietly, bouncing her a few times. she’s seemingly too tired, instead offering a tiny fist to wave at him in parting. he smiles, eyes flickering away from you to catch her hand and press a kiss to it before backing up— taking in the perfect family that was just out of his reach before turning back around to walk back to his car, fishing for his keys in his pocket.
then, comes your daughters voice. raspy and sleepy — yet clear and unmistakeable.
“bye bitch!”
rafe slowly spins on his heel, just in time to watch your face turn from confusion, to horror, to pissed off. at him.
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luveline · 7 months
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can I request something where Spencer is already with and married to y/n and the rest of the team has never known about her and one day they find out he’s married when she meets the team for the first time coming to bring him lunch maybe and the team is just taken aback after all the teasing they used to do to him because y/n is just so beautiful and flirty and they weren’t expecting any of it? And Spencer is just like “yeah I did that 👀😌💅🏼”
thank you for requesting !! hope this is okay, fem!reader
“I have something I need to tell you.” 
Derek looks up from his desk with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t like the sounds of that.” 
“I know you’re going to blow it out of proportion,” Spencer says, adjusting the strap of his watch where it lays over his sweater sleeve. “So I think I should tell you about it before she gets here with my lunch.” 
Derek leans back in his chair and tosses the clipboard he’s ticking through into a pile of outgoings. “I’ll bite. ‘She’?”
Spencer holds his hands clasped in front of himself, looking cagey. “Listen, I wanted to tell you, I wanted to tell the whole team, but it happened so quickly, and then I got it in my head that everyone would be mad at me or make fun of me and I didn’t want to deal with it so I didn’t tell you, and now it’s been a year and I kind of want to brag.” He ducks his head, scratches his neck, and refuses to meet Derek’s eye. “I wanted to tell you.” 
“Reid, man, what are you talking about?” Derek feels himself soften. “I’m not mad at you, pretty boy. Just tell me what’s going on.” 
“She’s over there,” Spencer says, pointing.
Derek follows his friend’s hand to you. You’re a lovely thing to look at because you’re smiling like you’ve never been happier, and you’re dressed in a simple, elegant sort of style that gives you a timeless feel, like you could’ve been in a romantic movie in the 50’s or just got back from walking the shiny streets of Paris. You aren’t his type at first glance, but you could be, the way you’re looking at him. 
“Derek Morgan,” you say as you approach, your little black purse slipping down your shoulder, “I can’t believe it’s you.” 
“You’ll have to forgive me, sweetheart, do I know you?” Derek asks. 
You give Spencer a loving, sorry look. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Sorry! I tried, but you know. I was nervous and I kind of chickened out when you got here.” 
You shift the white plastic bag you’re holding in two hands to the crook of one arm and beckon him into your side. “It’s fine,” you say, leaning upward to kiss his pale cheek, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I like introducing myself, you know that already.” You give him a last friendly pat before removing yourself, your hand just close enough to brush against his as you offer your name. “I’m Spencer’s wife,” you add. 
Derek laughs, the low first chuckle of disbelief. Spencer’s watching him carefully, and he thinks, oh, maybe she’s not kidding. “His wife.” 
“Yes,” you say, taking Spencer’s shoulder into your hand. You don’t seem to notice that he’s a good few inches taller than you. “And I’m so happy to meet you, you know? I’ve heard so much about you, about everyone! I realise we waited too long. S’gonna make sending you the registry pretty awkward.”
Spencer laughs. You look at him like he’s put the sun in the sky. 
“Sorry, I don’t think I understand.” 
You turn your hand to show Derek the gold wedding band on your marriage finger. “For a year, almost.” 
There’s just no way. 
Derek watches in quiet shock as Emily and Hotch descend the steps into the bullpen. “Hi,” Emily says, plainly confused. 
“Hi,” you say, deferring to Spencer with an encouraging glance.
Spencer puts his arm behind your shoulder, and Derek realises loverboy isn’t lying after all. The way he touches you is too familiar, speaking to a longstanding sort of love. His thumb immediately rubs gentle semi-circles into the fabric of your cardigan, circles you likely can’t even feel. “This is Y/N, she’s… my wife. We got married.” 
“And didn’t invite us,” Derek says. 
“You what?” Emily asks, head snapping to the side. 
Hotch is smiling at you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 
“You knew?” Emily asks. 
“It altered his health insurance,” Hotch says nonchalantly, stepping forward to shake your hand. 
“I’m thrilled to meet you, Mr. Hotchner.” Your eyes are sparkling. Derek can understand why Spencer’s married you from that look alone; you look overjoyed to be here, and to be speaking to them. “And you too, Emily. I've heard amazing things about all of you.” 
“Wait a minute, when did this happen? Wha–” Emily shakes her head. “I feel like I’m on reality television.” 
You turn to Spencer again, your eyes following up his cheek, a caress of a gaze as you begin to tell the story, “Well, we met by accident by at Christmas market on Cassidy square trying to buy stamps for cards, so that was sort of our first date a year and two months ago, but we didn’t get married until February, so a year.” 
“You got married after two months?” Emily asks, saving Derek the breath but not the sentiment. 
You don’t so much as wince, nor does Spencer. “It might’ve been unfair to her for me to rush things, but it didn’t feel like rushing at the time,” Spencer says surely. 
Derek knows that Hotch would’ve mentioned you months ago if you were nefarious. You certainly don’t seem nefarious, melting under Spencer’s touching, your almost frantic excitement to be meeting them quelled to a softer happiness. 
“Do you have any photos?” Emily asks.
It’s Spencer who moves for his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He flicks it open and pulls a photo from the clear window, unfolding it to reveal a shiny six by four of the two of you outside of a courthouse. Your dress is white and silk, his tuxedo made to fit. You both look amazing, but better, you look so, so happy. 
“This is the weirdest prank ever,” Emily says. 
You lay your cheek against his shoulder. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” 
Spencer shuffles through a hundred shades of pink. Derek struggles to wrap his head around it, but he can’t wait to tell Penelope. 
3K notes · View notes
beiasluv · 6 months
Text
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— op81, cs55, cl16, ls2
a/n: spent so long on the graphic 💀
yourinsta
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liked by mclaren, landonorris and 49,183 others
yourinsta call me pitbull cuz I’m mr worldwide 🤫 (+🇦🇺🇪🇸🇲🇨🇺🇸)
view all 729 comments
landonorris coppiers
yourinsta you’re my og 🫶
landonorris just og? 😔
username I swear if oscar gives us nothinggg
username MY BABY IS SHY OKAY?
username GOOD DAY TO BE A LOGAN SARGEANT FAN 🦅🦅🦅🦅
username I could only pray the Spanish flag is for Fernando 😩
— oscar piastri
Nervously sipping on his emotional support orange juice. Maybe too much nervous sipping.
“So, what’s your type?”
“My girlfriend?”
“Tell her she’s mine too.”
“WOw, will do.”
Cheeks turning red, munching on the fries like a little chipmunk he is.
“I mean– I have three sisters so…”
“That’s a green flag.”
“Thank you?” a piece of chicken in, a smile comes out. “That’s it?”
“Maybe if he’s…Australian, maybe.” you shrugged.
“Yeah.”
“And if he’s…wait. what sign are you?”
“Don’t know..I think it’s kinda nonsense.”
“That’s a red flag.”
“Sorry?” cheeky.
The orange juice was left unattended for a minute. Good sign. Chuckles were still evident.
“Let’s get serious here…” shifting in your seat.
“Yeah.”
“You drive for a living?”
“Yeah, I go around in circles ‘nd stuff,” juice pause. “I could drive you around Melbourne..if you’d want to–”
“And you’ll take me back by eight? Maybe offering your hand as well?”
“Yeah,” squinting face. “I could do that.”
“Lovely.”
— carlos sainz
Does that thing with his eyes, bending down to take the fries in…while keeping an intense eye contact.
“Smooth operator, you like that song?”
“Everyone favorite song no?”
“Hard choice.” pausing your fries mid air. “Spanish songs that I have no idea what they’re talking about could be up there.”
“Really? Tell me one.”
“The one from fast and furious.”
“A lot of them,” throwing his head back. “Can you sing it for me?”
“Asking for me to sing already. You’re in a hurry Carlos?” a sip of your Diet Coke. “Fast Five?”
“Eh..Danza Kuduro?”
“How could I know?” you shrugged. “What’s the song about anyways?”
“Something like…dancing…er…with tight ass.”
“Make sense.”
Looking confused as ever with that big, brown eyes. Mouth agape and shut every time few seconds, curling into a smile most of the time.
“So you’re still looking for job next year?”
“Huh?”
“Lewis Hamilton? Looking for job?”
“Eh..” leaned back in his seat. “Could be. Are you offering?”
“I’m a pretty busy girl..”
“Really? How busy?”
“So you’re up for it? That’s fast.”
“I’ll have to talk to my manager,” raising his eyebrow. “What is your requirement?”
“A Ferrari driver.”
“Sure.”
— charles leclerc
Trying to not laugh his ass off every five seconds or just completely blanks out. Chicken tasted good though.
“Charles, I have to ask you one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“How do you pronounce your last name?”
“I don’t..I don’t care, really.” Shrugging his shoulders. “Charles. Le. Clare.”
“Hm…maybe just use my last name instead, it’s easier.”
“I– yeah?”
“What?”
His chicken was pretty cleaned up the first few minutes. Plenty of confused chuckles.
“Do you think you are a committed person?”
“I…I…it’s a hard question no?” he put his hand together, in an Italian – sorry, Monegasque way. “I like to say I am.”
“I could tell.”
“Really? How?”
“Your contract with Ferrari.”
— logan sargeant
He was used to burger and fries but maybe he could just tolerate chicken and fries for your pretty company.
“What’s your ideal date?”
“Hm..definitely chicken shop dates.”
“Really? Where’s best chicken you ever had then?”
“This one.”
“That’s not an option.”
Subtle stares here and there, his cheeks might be hurting from all the grinning though.
“What’s your ideal type?” munching his ketchup-ed fries.
“So you don’t do researches.”
“I am now.”
“You know…starting to have a thing for Americans. You have any recommendations?”
“You could start by going fishing in the Keys with me,” stretched his arms.
“I’m not into fishy things.”
“Just boat rides?”
“I could do that.”
Coke break.
“Your thoughts on frat boys?”
“They’re fine,” he shrugged.
“And you’re not like a..secret member? Is it like a One Direction..thing?”
“Maybe better looking?” smirked. “I could see myself being one if I wasn’t racing.”
“Dreams do come true, Sargeant.”
“Ouch,” clutching his chest. “Ah– well– Maybe this other dream could come true as well?”
“You being better looking than One Direction?”
tell me who should be in chicken shop dateee 😩😩
– @namgification @jsjcue @c-losur3
Today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!
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5sospenguinqueen · 3 months
Text
Emotional Range Of A Teaspoon | Pierre Gasly
Summary: What right does he have to feel angry at the sight of Y/N and Charles? The answer is none. After all, she's only his best friend. Isn't she?
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Fluff. Jealousy. One suggestive comment
No faceclaim but British reader. 2024 timeline
F1 Masterlist
Requested: Yes (sorry it's a little late)
This one actually comes with a tiny text paragraph mid-way through
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Replies to @ PierreGASLY
Charles_Leclerc c’mon mate, it’s only been two days 
→ PierreGASLY a whole lifetime 
→ ItsYN i can’t even remember what you look like 
→ Charles_Leclerc and the people say that i am the dramatic one 
AlpineF1Team think you can channel that pain into some points this weekend?
→ PierreGASLY why aren’t you taking my pain seriously 
→ AlpineF1Team do you want us to schedule you an appointment with the counsellor?
→ ItsYN i don’t think that counsellor gets paid enough to listen to him
User1 ouch, talk about friendzoned 
→ User2 no, no, they’re in the denial stage of their friends to lovers arc
Replies to @ ItsYN
PierreGASLY i can still hear your voice
→ PierreGASLY although i’m glad you’re not making me suffer through the lost boys again
→ ItsYN okay first off, you love that movie. and second, because of that, i’m telling everyone you cried watching cars 3
→ PierreGASLY traitor!
→ LiamLawson30 as any man would!
Charles_Leclerc don’t worry y/n, i’ll have movie night with you 
→ ItsYN are you going to make me watch harry potter again?
→ Charles_Leclerc yes..?
→ ItsYN @ PierreGASLY come back please 
Replies to @ Charles_Leclerc
User3 not charles tweeting this the day after the canadian gp. y/n missed the canadian gp and you can tell poor charles had to hear all about it 
ItsYN we all know i would be the soldier and pierre would be the doting housewife crying on the platform 
→ PierreGASLY and i would look radiant doing so
Max33Verstappen he wouldn’t shut up about her during the driver’s parade. i tried to walk off and he followed me!
→ PierreGASLY i was in the middle of a sentence!
→ danielricciardo mate you know it’s bad when yapstappen needs you to stop talking
ItsYN stop talking about me. you're making it sound like we're friends
→ Charles_Leclerc excuse me but you know you want to be my bestie
→ PierreGASLY you can’t have her. she’s mine. i saw her first. shotgun or whatever you monagasques say for dibs 
→ GeorgeRussell63 actually i saw her first; her brother was my teammate when we were kids so 
→ PierreGASLY and just for that, i’m unfollowing you 
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Replies to @ CHICKEN!!
User4 whoever took this photo needs to go straight to jail. not y’all making it seem like charles and y/n are a sneaky item
User5 i knew she was shady, talking about how she couldn't make it only to end up in the winning driver’s garage 
PierreGASLY oh 
→ User6 wait no, pierre, come back. look at other tweets about this please
User7 stop being a shit stirrer. he’s literally got his other arm wrapped around alex ‘cause he was guiding the two of them through a ton of fans but that’s conveniently been cropped out 
Replies to @ BRAKKEEE
User8 i can’t believe people were trying to convince us ynarles was real when it’s clearly ynex
User9 love that charles was literally only there to keep them safe from fans and after that they were like ‘you’re done babe. now we run off into the sunset’ 
User10 watching him chase after them was so funny tho because he was literally yelling “let me play too” 
Replies to @ ItsYN
User11 oh no, we’re so sorry. we were just so happy to see you 
→ User12 yeah and pierre would’ve been happy to see her as well if you hadn’t blasted her all over the internet 
→ User13 pierre didn't exactly look all that happy though. he wouldn’t stop glaring at poor charles  
→ User12 maybe because you guys made it seem like his best friend lied to him to be with charles
Thumb aimlessly swiping at the screen of his phone, Pierre scanned the tweets as they passed, making note of a cute waffle shop in Monaco that he knew Y/N would love. Nothing of note appeared to have been posted as most of the Grid were waiting to hear where Sainz had signed. Hand halting, Pierre’s eyes flickered across the screen once. Twice. And then a third time just to be sure. His last message to Y/N had gone unanswered and now there was a picture of her on Twitter, claiming to be from today. With Charles’ arm around her. His teeth sank into his bottom lip, and a derisive scoff filled his driver’s room. What happened to being unable to book the time off work, he thought bitterly to himself. Instead she was in the Paddock with a red-clad arm wrapped around her. Before he could restrain himself, he had clicked on the ‘reply’ button. A knock at the door pulled him from his downward spiral, preventing him from looking further into the comments gushing about how cute his best friend and closest F1 friend looked as a couple. 
“Pierre, time to warm up.”
“D’accord.”
He locked his phone before dumping it onto the massage table, storming out of his driver’s room, unaware that if he had scrolled down another two posts, he would’ve seen a picture of Y/N with Alexandra and a tweet from the woman herself. 
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ItsYN just posted
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, estebanocon and others
ItsYN an amazing weekend in barcelona watching my best friend do his thing and achieve some well-deserved points. a huge thank you to charles and alex for helping me sneak into the paddock last-minute tagged: pierregasly, charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux 
553 comments
alpinef1team our favourite things rolled into one post 
→ ItsYN mine too! 
→ User1 sis, get off the floor 
estebanocon should i be offended that you wearing my cap didn’t make the post 
→ ItsYN shh i can’t have my people thinking i have friends other than pear 
danielricciardo PIERRE GASSLLLYYYYY
→ ItsYN go thirst over him on his posts. my insta is a 310 free zone
→ danielricciardo just admit that you’re jealous of our love and move on
→ ItsYN was he publicly crying over missing YOU? i don’t think so 
→ danielricciardo that’s because i’m a better friend than you and i’ve been here the whole time
→ ItsYN blocked 
alexandrasaintmleux thank you for trusting me with the surprise! 
→ ItsYn thank you for being so wonderful and helping 🩷 (and stopping charles from throttling me)
→ charles_leclerc it’s because you wouldn’t stop saying thank you and asking me if i was “sure that it’s no bother” to help you 
→ It’sYN sorry for being considerate! 
User2 not to be that person but has anyone else noticed that pierre hasn’t commented?
→ User3 i'm getting the feeling that, despite all his online complaining, he wasn’t overly excited to see his best friend this weekend? 
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User4 not the f1wags posting her, they know the truth
→ User5 what truth. it doesn’t look they’re even friends anymore
User7 it’s the way she looks like she’s trying to explain/talk to him and he’s just yelling at her 
→ User8 i used to root for them to get together but now that he’s yelled at her :/
User9 y/n is stronger than me because if a man pointed his finger like that at me, i’d savagely bite it off 
User10 uh, who does he think he is talking to y/n l/n that way
User11 i bet it’s because he thought y/n was there for charles and got jealous 
→ User12 i’ve connected the dots
→ User13 you ain’t connected shit
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User14 idk which one i want to be more
→ User15 that’s because you want to be their third instead 
User16 i’m thirsty. anyone else thirsty
LandoNorris oh god my eyes
→ danielricciardo this is why you should stop looking at x rated things on the internet 
→ User17 what happened to your pr training?
→ Charles_Leclerc what happened to pierre’s?
User18 if only he could transfer this kind of passion onto the track 
User19 uh, the clarity of the third one?? did admin take this and then leak it online? 
→ AlpineF1Team i'm afriad that we’re finding out along with you guys but we’re not gonna pretend like we weren’t rooting for this 
ItsYN why am i trending on twitter?
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ItsYN just posted
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe and others
ItsYN my little pain au chocolat 💕
845 comments
pierregasly we talked about you calling me pastries 
→ ItsYn yes, we did. and i didn’t take into account anything you said
→ pierregasly you are very lucky you're cute
→ ItsYN it's gotten me far in life
User1 talk about a hard launch
→ User2 they weren’t really given the choice considering they were caught snogging all over barcelona last weekend
alpinef1team pierre repping the alpine colours 
→ ItsYN release your chokehold on my man
→ alpinef1team no, you release your chokehold on our man 
→ ItsYN what happened to being supportive of this?
→ alpinef1team that was before all he did was yap about you!
lilymhe babe, this isn’t you. get up and come back to me 
→ ItsYN i’m sorry but i don’t think i can come back from this 
→ lilymhe what about us, what about everything we’ve been through
→ ItsYN you know i never wanted to hurt you
→ alex_albon @ pierregasly guess i’ll be seeing you at the next karaoke marathon 
→ pierregasly only if you sing breaking free with me
→ ItsYN this is why i love you
landonorris let’s take a moment for our fallen soldier… we lost an honourable brit to a french man
→ pierregasly it’s not my fault that i have charm and you don’t 
→ danielricciardo i didn’t realise charm meant having a tantrum when she asks your friend for help to surprise you 
→ pierregasly we agreed not to speak of that! 
→ ItsYN i don’t think you’re living this one down, macaron
charles_leclerc can you tell him to put his clothes back on, please
→ ItsYN i tried but he seems incapable of keeping them on around me
→ pierregasly charles is just jealous of my amazing physique 
→ charles_leclerc best you not talk about jealousy 
User4 @ ItsYN i love that they’ve not had a chance to pr train you yet
→ ItsYN never! 
User5 and they called me crazy when i said friends to lovers! 
→ ItsYN tbf hun, so did we. it took us a minute
→ User6 so pierre is slow on and off the track 
→ pierregasly hey! 
pierregasly just posted
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liked by charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511 and others
pierregasly from movie nights to drunken karaoke, i would go on any adventure with you 
1,454 comments
ItsYN my best friend and my love 
→ alexandrasaintmleux i thought i was your best friend 
→ ItsYN i’m not allowed to post shirtless pics of you online though
→ charles_leclerc no you are not! 
→ User7 i hope pr never got ahold of her
→ alpinef1team she has an appointment with them on thursday
yukitsunoda0511 is this what they call simping?
→ pierregasly no
→ ItsYN yes
maxverstappen1 does this mean you’ll stop talking about her during driver’s parades?
→ pierregasly no 
→ yukitsunoda0511 he’ll just stop talking about whether she’s interested in any of us 
→ ItsYN he did that?
→ pierregasly no!
→ maxverstappen1 yes, the latest victim was logan
→ charles_leclerc actually i was the latest victim, and i will remain the most famous. my jealousy era is forever captured on the internet 
→ logansargeant @ pierregasly is that why you kept asking me what i thought about her?
landonorris you guys are kinda cute when you’re not yelling at her 
→ ItsYN please stop saying this. i'm the one who has to listen to him apologise over and over for the millionth time
→ pierregasly because i feel bad! 
→ ItsYN omg i know! 
danielricciardo mate, we get it. she’s your girl now but you can let go of her for two seconds. she’s not going to disappear
→ pierregasly it’s called a healthy attachment
→ ItsYN he says whilst cuddled into my neck and following me to the bathroom
lilymhe she’s so hot, drop me her @ please
→ pierregasly back off
→ ItsYN i’m right here bby girl. let me take out on a date 
→ charles_leclerc careful lily or he might start yelling at you next 
alpinef1team we’ve been asked by an anonymous source that you all refrain from discussing previous events. reparations have been made and it’s been advised that such an event remain in the past 
→ danielricciardo lol he ran to mom
→ landonorris anonymous source, my ass. just tag him
→ georgerussell63 this is so lame
→ alex_albon mate, this is more obvious than pierre’s jealousy 
→ charles_leclerc even i cannot support him through this 
→ ItsYN i love you, my little croissant, but i cannot pretend that this is normal
→ pierregasly ultimate betrayal
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Sorry if this wasn’t angst enough. Humour and fluff are more my forte.
As always, F1 requests open for the current grid and retired drivers.
Tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury
(A huge thank you to both of you for wanting to be added to all f1 posts. It means a lot)
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likeumeanit9497 · 4 months
Text
please baby | c. s. |
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
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summary: chris and y/n have always had what felt like a perfect relationship. that is, until a few weeks ago. chris had been treating y/n poorly, and after one especially hurtful conversation, she is forced to make a difficult decision. when chris comes to the realization that he is about to lose it all, will he swallow his pride and do what he needs to win her back?
warnings: established relationship; smut; angst; fighting; (relatively) toxic chris; crying; unprotected sex; fluff; 18+
notes: based on this request by 🎀. i've never rlly written an angsty fic before, so let me know what u all think! also wrote this super quick so i don't think it's my best work, but still i hope u enjoy <333
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
Through tears, I stared blankly at my phone. My eyes had been glued to my lit up screen for the past two minutes — unmoving, and unable to register what I was reading. Even with blurry vision, Chris’ last message to me was seared into my memory.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Just as my brimmed tears finally spilled over, so did the water I was boiling on the stove. The immediate steam and sizzling noises pulled me from my phone, and frustrated for more than one reason, I raced over to the stove and shoved the pot off of the element; leaving the boiling pasta noodles to sit in the water. Just looking at my failed attempt at dinner brought on a new level of pain, as it was a reminder of what I hoped that the night could be.
Chris, my boyfriend of almost one year, was supposed to be coming over tonight. I had been super excited, because both of our schedules had been especially busy lately and we hadn’t been able to spend much time together over the past three weeks, plus I had some good news to share with him about my work. I had wanted to make the night special, so I had decided to cook one of Chris’ favourite meals — chicken alfredo — to surprise him with once he arrived.
He was currently stuck at the warehouse for a merch meeting with Nick, Matt, and his manager, and he had told me that he would come over and spend the night once he was done there. That was a few hours ago, and I had been patiently waiting for an update from him until about thirty minutes ago, when I sent him a simple message asking if he had any idea when he would be done at the warehouse. Little did I know, that singular message would cause a massive storm to erupt.
Y/n: hey babe! just wondering if you have an idea on when you can come over?
Chris: Not rlly sure
Y/n: okay…rough estimate maybe?
Y/n: just have some things i need to get done before u get here hehe
Chris: I’ll get there when I get there.
Y/n: uh..is something wrong?
Chris: No why
Y/n: ur being kinda mean???
Chris: No I’m not
Y/n: ok
Chris: My god Y/n I don’t have time for this rn
Y/n: i just said ok
Y/n: you go ahead and go back to your meeting
Y/n: i was just asking for an update, that’s all.
Y/n: didn’t realize that was such a horrible thing.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Even though I hate to admit it, this wasn’t the first time that Chris had been an absolute asshole to me lately. Just last week, he had started a fight that ended with him hanging up the phone on me; only to call back a little while later to apologize. And then a few days before that, he had put zero effort into making time for me when I had tried to make plans for us to go to the movies. And during all of this, he has been incredibly dry over messages. It had been bothering me for a while now, because to me it was clear that he was losing interest. I knew that our relationship would be far from perfect going in to it, considering Chris had never been in a real relationship before me, but deep down I hoped that it would always be as perfect as it was at the beginning. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, his actions — or lack thereof — were shattering.
I wasn’t some oblivious girlfriend either; it was clear to me that Chris was going through something. I knew that for a fact, but every time I tried to get him to open up to me about it all, he shut me down with lame excuses: “Oh, I’m just tired,” or, “I’ve just been stressed lately”. I figured that he just needed time, and that eventually he would come to me and explain exactly what had been going on so that I could help him through it.
But now, after his hurtful words to me tonight, I was seriously considering my other options. I had been in far too many toxic relationships in the past, and had learned that I deserve more than what I had been accepting. I wouldn’t let myself be Chris’ punching bag anymore, and I knew right then and there that I had an incredibly painful task to do.
Allowing myself to be overtaken by my build up of tears, I slowly walked into my bedroom; turning off the lights and covering myself with my comforter. My shoulders heaved as I let the tears stream down my face; my brain accepting what I needed to do but my body rejecting it in every way possible. Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Chris — telling him that I was tired and that he might as well not come at all tonight, but we should talk tomorrow — before curling into a ball and wallowing in my own sorrows.
I stayed in the exact same position for what felt like ages; allowing myself to get all of the emotions out now so that when I had to do what I had to do tomorrow I could do so without breaking down so hard. Eventually, my tears slowed and I felt my burning eyes begin to grow heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake me, and as I gave into my exhaustion my mind filled with scenes of the nightmare that I was going to have to face tomorrow.
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I was startled out of my sleep by the sound of keys jangling from the direction of my front door. Disoriented, it took me a moment to be overtaken by the feeling of dread that came from hearing that noise. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Chris. Before, hearing his keys at my door filled my stomach with undeniable excitement — now, my stomach did anxious flips knowing what had to be done.
As I heard the door open and close, I rolled over so that I was facing away from my bedroom door and glued my eyes shut; pretending to still be asleep. I heard his soft footsteps on the other side of the door as he wandered through my dark apartment, before a hushed “shit!” broke the silence. After a few moments, I listened as his footsteps grew closer and closer to my bedroom door, and as I heard it slowly creak open, I braced for impact.
The room stayed silent, though I couldn’t really say that for sure since I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own racing heart in my ears. I did my best to stay completely still, though it felt like every part of my body was vibrating; waiting for his next move. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my mattress as his body leaned against it, and physically jumped at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder; shaking it gently.
“Y/n, wake up.” He spoke in a faux whisper, and, even though I had been pretending, I felt my body grow hot in anger that he would have the audacity to wake me from my sleep after showing up to my apartment uninvited. However, my body still not understanding that it wouldn’t belong to him much longer, I shot up from my place on the bed and searched for his eyes. The room was pitch black, but I could sense exactly where he was in front of me.
Rubbing my eyes, I searched the bed for my phone, checking the time to find that it was already nearly 2 a.m. I felt the mattress shift once again and watched his faint outline as he sat on his side of my bed. “Y/n, you left the stove on.” He was still whispering, and his sentence ended in a slight chuckle; clearly oblivious to the decision that I had made on my own just hours before.
Too heartbroken to really care about the stove, I shrugged my shoulders. “Whoops.” Was all I said to the silent room. “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of making dinner or something?” His voice was still light-hearted, and was far from a tone that matched his previous texts to me. It made it so difficult for me to remember what I had to do.
“Turn the lamp on please.” I said simply, using every ounce of strength in my body to keep my tone monotonous. Chris stayed still for a moment, clearly thrown off by my behaviour. “Uh, okay.” He finally said as he leaned toward the bedside table closest to him and switched on the warm-toned light. After allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden brightness, they immediately fell on him.
Oh, my Chris.
His beautiful blue eyes were so kind and bright, his long hair was wet and messily draped across his forehead, and his matching oversized sweat set made me want nothing more than to curl into him and breathe him in. He stared at me blankly for a moment, clearly beginning to register that I was upset, before finally speaking. “I’m really sorry about earlier, baby. I had been in the meeting for hours and was getting really stressed out.” I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow. Some variation of that exact sentence had been the same excuse he had given me each and every time he had hurt me over the past few weeks, and it had lost its sincerity long ago. So, instead of giving into his cheap apology, I sat up in my bed and faced him; taking a deep breath before speaking.
“I have to tell you something. And I need you to let me say this without interrupting, or else I’m scared I won’t be able to go through with it. I’ve had to say this for a while now, and now that we are where we are I know it has to be done. So please, let me say it, okay?” His light eyes were focused intensely on me, he was clearly trying to figure out where this conversation was going. But finally, he swallowed before tentatively nodding his head. “O-okay.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my lower lip quiver as I tried to find my footing on this conversation. After taking a shaky breath, I finally found my voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Immediately, my attempt at getting all my tears out of the way earlier proved to be a failure; because as soon as the heavy words left my mouth I broke down into sobs.
Over my crying, I heard Chris’ disbelieving voice. “What do you mean you’re done with this? With what? Me?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, clearly being hit with the same emotions that I was. I stayed silent — my eyes screwed shut as I wrapped my arms around my torso; doing my best to comfort myself. “Y/n, please tell me what you’re talking about.” He pleaded, and I felt him scoot closer to me on the bed; placing a hesitant hand on my knee.
After catching my breath, I wiped my tears away and opened my eyes to find his frantically searching my face like an uncertain creature. “I know you’re going through something right now,” My voice was coming out nearly silent, but I continued, “And I tried so hard to be there for you, I really did Chris. But you won’t talk to me! Instead, you’ve been taking out all of your frustrations on me and treating me like absolute shit. Do you really think that’s okay?” I fought the lump in my throat as I got my words out, his shattered face no help in that department. Frantically, Chris shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, baby, and I’m really sorry. But please, please don’t do this.” His tone tugged at my heart strings as his desperation grew more and more transparent.
Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I shut him down. “Can you tell me why you’ve been acting the way you have?” I knew my question was pointless before I even asked it, but his silence confirmed it. Releasing an ironic chuckle, I continued. “I promised myself that I would never let another man treat me badly. I’ve put up with it far too many times, and no matter how much I love you, Chris, I can’t allow you to speak to me the way you have been lately.”
I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink at his ghostly expression, clearly on the verge of losing his shit. I brought a hand up to his cheek and stroked it for a moment, and as I did he closed his eyes and let a few tears fall. “I want you to get better, I really do. But I clearly can’t help you, so you need to do it on your own.” My own words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t help the tears as they streamed down my face. “Come to me when you’ve worked through your shit, and we can see if we can repair things. But for now, I need you to leave.”
At that, Chris’ eyes shot open in a panic and he immediately grabbed onto my leg. “No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this.” I turned my head away from him as his desperation became too much to bear. His hands traveled across my body in anguish, clearly losing all control of his emotions as the reality of our situation began to set in for him. His body slid off of the bed as he dissolved into tears against my comforter. Still having the instinct to comfort him, I scooted towards the edge of the bed, where I let my legs stretch out beside him as I ran my hands through his beautiful curls.
“Please, please baby, I swear to god I can’t do this shit without you.” He wretchedly pleaded with me, clutching my leg and trailing distressed kisses along it. I looked up at the sky, too pained by the scene that was playing out in front of me. “Chris, please, I need you to go.” I begged him, needing to put him out of his misery so that I could hurt in private. He maintained his grasp on my leg, sobbing inconsolably against it. I gave him a moment, in which he slowly began to regain control of his emotions. I watched as his sobbing grew quieter and his breathing slowed, before finally watching as he pulled himself up to his feet; the weight of our conversation evident in the way he held himself weakly.
He glanced down at me quickly, his blue eyes red and puffy, before turning away in what looked like shame. In utter silence, he turned and began walking slowly in the direction of my bedroom door. With his hand on the door knob, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His words were so quiet I could have easily missed them, but the sincerity cut through my heart like a knife. That sincerity hadn’t been present in any of the other apologies he gave me, and I was gutted that it appeared too late.
And then just like that, he was gone. I felt all the air leave my chest at the realization of what I had just done, and let my body fall back against my bed as tears once again poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but immediately question whether or not I had done the right thing. Was I a horrible person for abandoning the man I loved when he was so clearly dealing with something? Did I allow my fears of repeating my past distort my current reality? Were the things he said to me really that bad?
I was pulled out of my tormenting thoughts by a soft voice coming from my doorway.
“My meeting today wasn’t about merch.”
That was all that he said. That was all it took for my heart to begin to beat for him again. One small hint of vulnerability. Feeling humiliated internally, I sat up on my elbows and found him hovering in the doorway. “Talk to me about it Chris.” I sounded exacerbated even to my own ears, feeling frustrated from all of the overwhelming emotions that the evening held. Tentatively, he walked over to the bed and sat beside me on the edge, arms resting on his knees. After clearing his throat, he began to explain. “The meeting today wasn’t about merch, it wasn’t really about anything to be honest.” Confused, I waited in silence for him to continue.
“A few weeks ago, Laura brought up the idea of going on another tour. A European tour.” He paused for a moment. “Nick and Matt immediately agreed and wanted to start planning everything so that we could do it this summer, but I said I didn’t want to do it.” I watched the back of his head, slightly shocked by his words since I knew that he had enjoyed the previous tours so much. “We would be overseas for a month, and I didn’t want to be so far away from you for that long. So I told them I didn’t wanna do it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, Matt and Nick are super pissed at me. They’ve both been giving me the silent treatment for weeks outside of the few times when they’ve just tore me a new one. And sure, we’ve all fought before, but never this bad. It’s been going on for so long, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of everything without having them be there for me.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and I fought the urge to cry along with him.
“Things have gotten so bad between us, that Laura forced us all to come in tonight to basically have a supervised argument. We sat there for hours, Y/n, just screaming at each other. And we got nowhere. I stood firm in what I wanted and so did they, so that’s why it went on for so long. And that’s also why I have been treating you like a complete dick lately. Because even though you had no clue what was going on, I think a part of me was kinda blaming you for all this shit. And I know that wasn’t fair, I really do. I just didn’t know how to tell you all of this because I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
He turned to look at me, grabbing at my hand that was lying dormant in the space between us. “And I’m so, so sorry that I treated you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it. At all. But please baby, please don’t leave me. Because if you do, I will be completely lost. You are my anchor, and I need you to be there for me.” Tears rolled down my face as his voice cracked in desperation. “And I swear, baby, I won’t treat you like shit ever again. If you can’t believe me, and if you’re really truly done, I’ll understand. But please, Y/n, if there’s any part of you that believes me, please don’t leave.” He dropped his head into my lap, wrapping his arm around my waist and gripping onto my oversized t-shirt. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to his face and began stroking it softly; wiping away his tears as I did.
We stayed that way for a long time, both of us sniffling, heaving messes. I couldn’t lie, his honesty truly impacted me. I knew that he had to have gone against every single one of his instincts to finally tell me what had been going on in his life, and the fact that he did meant so much to me. I knew that Chris was extremely reliant on his brothers being a constant in his life, and couldn’t even imagine how lost he must feel knowing that they’re against him. His problem was much more severe than I thought it would have been prior to him opening up, and I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for him. I knew that his poor treatment of me — as wrong as it was — had been completely out of character, and as I sat there stroking his soft cheek, I decided that I would believe him.
“Come up here.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Immediately, Chris lifted his head off of my thighs and sat up, his face inches from mine. Without a moment of hesitation, I leaned forward and engulfed his lips with my own. He immediately reciprocated, and both of our tongues worked in unison to lap up the salty taste of each other’s tears. Chris leaned forward, encouraging me to fall back against my pillows as he continued his passionate assault on my lips. His mouth travelled down my neck, where I shuddered as I felt him place sucks and nibbles sure to leave a trail of purple bruises. His body was warm on top of mine, and I had never before felt so present with him; so aware of his every movement.
He moved down my body, stopping briefly at my chest to remove my shirt, before continuing down below my waist. With his tongue, he created a path from just below my belly button to my right hip bone, where he left another purple bruise; causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. Lifting my hips, he wasted no time in pulling my boy shorts off of my body and leaving me completely bare. He continued to leave gentle kisses along each square inch of my body surrounding my core, but making sure to leave the place where I needed his mouth the most completely untouched.
I began to grow impatient, my body temperature increasing as my body filled with arousal. As he placed a kiss on my inner thigh, I bucked my hips up in frustration; practically begging for contact. Noticing my agitation, Chris almost immediately obliged, and I gasped out in pleasure as his tongue began working its magic against my clit. With each hand holding up my thighs, Chris swirled his tongue relentlessly against my bundle of nerves. I struggled to keep my body still as his movements continued, and failed miserably once he inserted two of his fingers into my core. “Fuck Chris, t-that’s so good.” I moaned out as his tongue and fingers worked my cunt in harmony. The wet sounds of my arousal grew louder and louder as I began to approach my orgasm, and in reflex my hands tangled in his hair; doing everything I could to keep him exactly where I needed him.
“Gonna cum, baby.” I cried out, and his encouraging hum against my clit was enough to get me there. My back arched off of the bed as my body began to convulse. To keep me in place, Chris took his free hand and placed it firmly on my lower stomach; causing me to scream out in pleasure. His mouth and fingers continued to push me through my orgasm, and didn’t stop even after my nerves became over sensitive. “C-Chris please. Can’t take anymore.” I struggled to get out the words, but he listened. Detaching his mouth from my core, he dragged his body back up my own and came face to face with me.
With the glean of my arousal still on his lips, he kissed me so deep I felt my lungs inflate. I could taste myself on his tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head from the intensity of the moment. I broke the kiss for only a moment to pull his hoodie over his head; relishing in the feeling of his bare chest against my own. Through his sweatpants, I could feel his bulging member press against my pelvis, and I reached in between our bodies and pulled his waistband down along with his boxers. Now completely free, his cock dribbled pre-cum down my stomach. With my hand still between us, I collected what was left of his fluid along his slit before slowly stroking my hand up and down his swollen shaft.
His breath hitched as I continued my movements, and he thoughtlessly bucked his hips into my hand to increase the friction along his trembling member. My hand twisted around his dick for a few more pumps, before I slowly guided it down toward my entrance. Once Chris felt the heat of my core at the tip of his cock, he looked down at me with darkened eyes — still slightly puffy from his previous tears — and dropped his jaw as he began to slide into me.
I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his sizeable girth, and released a breathy moan as he bottomed out. Laying on top of me, he grabbed both sides of my face in between his hands and held it firmly as he began thrusting into me. His eyes never left mine as his hips rolled into me, and I watched in ecstasy at the pleasure visible on his face — as I’m sure he was doing to me. Our bodies smacked together in a steady rhythm and the wet sounds filled the room, adding an additional sensation to my arousal.
“I-I’m so sorry, baby.” Grunted Chris through deep thrusts. “It’s — oh fuck — it’s okay Chris.” I replied as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Just please — please tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded desperate and choppy, most likely caused by a combination of arousal and real distress. His choice of words and the tone at which he said them caused my stomach to do a flip, and I felt my second orgasm approach. Fighting the urge to give into the overwhelming feeling, I reached up and swiped his glistening lip with my thumb. “I’m yours baby, always.” I managed to respond through my cries of pleasure. Chris smiled down at me lazily before burying his face in my neck; leaving sloppy, breathy kisses along its thin skin.
My walls began to pulse and my skin started to feel like it was being lit on fire; both clear signs that I was extremely overstimulated as I was approaching my orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum again.” I blurted out just as I was hit with a tsunami of an orgasm. My legs tightened around his waist and my nails dug into his arms as I fought to keep my head above water, but my mind grew fuzzy as I spewed guttural profanities into the room as I came in waves.
It didn’t take long for Chris’ orgasm to follow, and that was made clear by his throaty grunts and sloppy pace before he stopped entirely; shouting breathless 'I love yous' into my neck as his cock shot its warm fluid deep inside of me. He eventually pulled out, before curling two fingers into me and shoving all of our conjoined juices up to my cervix. His eyes stayed glued to my cunt as he did so, seemingly in awe of the view.
“You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He said it so quiet that he might have just been saying it to himself, before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the crest of my heat; earning a full-body flinch from me.
He came back up to the top of the bed where he laid down beside me, pulling me towards his chest and running a hand up and down my naked back. I felt so secure in his arms — his familiar smell filling my nostrils and calming my mind — that I nearly forgot everything that had happened prior to the past 15 minutes or so. That is, until he spoke.
“So, are we okay?” His voice was tentative, and he was very clearly afraid to hear my answer. I uncurled myself from his body so that I could look up at his lovely face, his desperate eyes scanning my poker face for any sort of hint.
“You will never, ever, speak to me like that again, no matter what.” I kept my voice firm, even when his face immediately relaxed into a grin. “I swear, I won’t baby.” He responded, trying to tuck me back into his chest, but I pushed back slightly. “And, I need you to talk to me about shit you’re going through, Chris. I’m your girlfriend. That’s my job. You need to promise me, you will come to me about anything, and I will do everything I can to help you through it.” He continued to gaze at me, though his wavering eyes and his chewing on his lower lip made it clear that the idea made him anxious. “Promise me, Chris.” I repeated, making it clear how serious I was.
Finally, Chris nodded his head. “I promise, baby. I’ll tell you everything.” I smiled, then, finally feeling secure in our relationship for the first time in weeks. “Then yes, we’re okay.” I responded before planting a soft kiss to his pink lips. “And you and your brothers are going to be okay, too.” His worried expression deepened at the reminder of his conflict with Nick and Matt. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow once we get some rest, but we can make the tour work. You know, I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.” I watched as his lips began to turn up into a soft smile. “Plus,” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind being your groupie.”
He dissolved into giggles at that. “But what about your job?” He asked tentatively. I shrugged. “I actually got promoted today. I was gonna tell you earlier, but y’know.” His face fell momentarily. “I got a raise, but more importantly I got more benefits. Including thirty vacation days.” His face lit up once again, and it was almost like I could see the weight lift off of his shoulders before he attacked my face with kisses. “So let’s have another meeting with Laura and your brothers tomorrow and work this all out. I can come, and we can fix this easily together.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded his head before kissing me hard. “I love you, Y/n.”
I curled myself back into his chest and sighed, taking in the feeling of him mindlessly drawing random shapes on my back. This was the Chris that I knew and loved, and I knew that this is who he really was. He wasn’t perfect, but I never expected him to be. Problems come with every relationship, and of course there was never any guarantee, but I had a feeling that this night would vastly change our relationship for the better.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
1K notes · View notes
sturniluvr · 4 months
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All of me, loves all of you
Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader
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word count: 1.3k
warnings: possible spelling mistakes, some language, hate comments, nothing else lmk if I missed anything
summary: you’ve always been told in your life by multiple people that you’re always either too loud or too quiet and it’s one of your biggest insecurities but happens to be your boyfriend’s favourite thing about you.
A/N: sorta inspired by @obsidianbaby fic with a little twist and hers is a Chris version. Here it is if you want to check it out. Listen to John Legend ‘all of me’ while reading if you want <3
❗️semi proof read❗️
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You were on sat on the couch as the triplets rushed around the house getting the equipment they needed to film the car video, all they had left to find was a battery because Nick once again forgot to charge the battery so they had to find a charged one to replace the dead battery before filming whilst also waiting for their food to arrive.  
“Y/N are you joining us for the video? Or can I be Matt’s passenger princess?” Chris joked as he made his way past her towards the kitchen to check their junk drawer for the spare battery.  
“Fuck where is it?” He muttered to himself as he rummaged through the drawer, unsuccessful in finding what he was looking for. The younger woman didn’t acknowledge her best friend at first, her head being buried in her phone, more specifically, looking at the comments on last Friday’s car video where she was having one of her more quiet days and the comments surely picked up on the sudden mood change compared to her yapping in the Wednesday video prior to the Friday car video. 
‘She needs to make up her mind, either be loud or be quiet Jesus Christ’ 
‘How do they put up with her? She’s so annoying’ 
‘Y/N needs to be more entertaining omg😭’ 
‘One day she’s quiet the next she won’t stfu, must be so annoying to the triplets, how do they like her??? Especially Matt??? Poor guy’ 
‘She’s such a weirdo, either being way too loud or way too quiet💀’ 
‘Y/N?? You with me kid?” Chris waved his hand in front of her face to grab her attention. 
“Hmm? Sorry Chris what did you say?” She replied to the older boy. As he was about to reply, the doorbell rang signaling the food had arrived, Matt came from his bedroom and made his way down the stairs to open the door and get the food, thanking the delivery driver as he closed the door. He came back up the stairs and placed the bag of McDonald’s on the kitchen table, sorting out who’s is who’s. 
“I was asking if you were coming to film with us?” she shook her head in response. 
“No, I’ll sit this one out, I think. Maybe just watch a film or have a shower and an early night.” 
Matt’s head turned in the direction of his girlfriend and brother as soon as he heard the words leave Y/N’s mouth, immediately sensing something was wrong. 
“You okay baby? You feeling good?” He asked, concern written all over his features, Matt made his way over to the Y/H/C girl with her usual McDonalds order of 9 chicken nuggets, medium fries and a peach iced tea. He placed her food on the table in front of her and quickly raised the back of his hand to her forehead, her temperature seemed fine to him. 
“Yeah, I’m okay Matt, I promise, I’m just tired you know I’ve had a busy day.” She explained, looking up at her boyfriend with a not very convincing smile on her face, not convincing to Matt anyway, he could read her like a book. 
Nick had found the battery, and the camera was now ready to set up in the car. 
“You coming you two?” He calls out to the couple while grabbing his food off the kitchen table. Chris doing the same and stood with the oldest triplet waiting for an answer. 
“Give us a minute Nick, you and Chris head to the car.” Matt replied, throwing his car keys in the direction of Chris which he smoothly caught. The brothers made their way downstairs to the garage to unlock the car. In the living room, Matt was now sat next to Y/N on the couch. He noticed a stray tear make it’s way down her cheek.
“Baby please just tell me what’s bothering you. It can’t be silly if it’s making you cry.” he stated as he wiped the stray tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. He looked over to her unlocked phone that had since been discarded on the table, he removed his hands from her face and picked her phone up, raising his eyebrows as if asking permission to look through the phone. She nodded in silent understanding. He looked at the illuminated screen and a frown immediately made its way onto his face, followed by a glare at some of the comments that his so called fans had left about the love of his life. 
“They hate me.” Y/N said dejectedly, biting her nails anxiously as Matt continued to read the comments. Matt sighed before he replied. 
“Oh baby. A few comments mean nothing okay my love, what matters is what you think and what I think, and I think you’re amazing just the way you are.” 
“But Matt it’s not just a few comments! It’s every other comment, either saying you must be annoyed by me, or I don’t deserve you or that I’m a weirdo all because I’m always either too loud or too quiet! I’ve always been made fun of because of it!” She replied frustrated, tears beginning to well up in her eyes yet again.  
Suddenly Matt placed her phone face down on the couch and grabbed her hand before leading her to his bathroom. He switched the light on and placed her in front of the mirror and rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. 
“See this woman in the mirror? She is the most perfect woman I have ever met, every little detail of her, from her freckles to her personality makes her even more perfect to me and I fall more in love with her every day.” He placed a trail of kisses leading from her shoulder up to her cheek before he loosened his hold on her waist to turn her so she was facing him before continuing.  
“Darling, you can’t let the things people who hide behind their screens tell you define you okay? It would break my heart to see their nasty words dim my princess’ light, okay? You are perfect to me, and that’s all that matters, okay? Not some bullshit random people on the internet say, they’re just jealous 12 year olds.” He joked, lightening the mood, causing a small smile to creep up on her face, he smiled at the sight.  
“There’s my favorite smile!” He exclaimed.  
He cupped her cheeks before speaking again.  
“Love, you have to remember if you ever feel like this again, is all of me loves all of you, okay? Always has and always will, you’re my favorite person and you being both loud and quiet balances me out perfectly, if I need a quiet and safe place you give that to me, or if I need to let off energy and be crazy, you go on all kinds of crazy adventures with me. I couldn’t be more thankful for you. I love you so much my angel.” 
“I love you too my love” she replied, happy tears now in her eyes as opposed to the sad and frustrated tears in her eyes not even 20 minutes ago. 
“What do you say, we go film the video with Nick and Chris, I want the better passenger princess next to me and not the one who burps 24/7 and looks like me” he joked, she let out a laugh at her boyfriend. 
“Sure, let’s go film. I wanna grab my food first though.” He nodded and the couple made their way into the living room to grab Y/N’s food before making their way down to the garage where they heard Nick and Chris arguing over something ridiculous, they both laughed at the pair. The two in the car noticed the couple stood in the doorway making their way to the car. Y/N got in the car while Matt remained outside, focusing the camera. Y/N threw a thumbs up to Matt as the camera was set up right. Chris gave Y/N a quick hug from the back seat before he spoke. 
“You good now kid?” He asked, she nodded and smiled back at him as Matt got in the car and pressed record. The four filming the video full of laughs and debates. Matt added in a little rant to the viewers on being nicer to Y/N and from that point forward, the hate comments had died down to the odd few from jealous fan girls. 
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1K notes · View notes
vngelicc · 11 months
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teeth. ☆ j.jk
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⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting
⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k
⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆
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“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”
The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.
You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.
Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.
“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.
“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”
Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.
“What number is this?”
“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”
“I don’t know.”
You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.
You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.
“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”
You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.
“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”
You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.
“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.
You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.
“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.
You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.
“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.
You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.
“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”
“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”
“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”
You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.
He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.
You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.
The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.
“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.
The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.
“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.
He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.
You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.
“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.
You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.
You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.
He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.
You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.
He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.
“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.
“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.
A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.
He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.
“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.
Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.
“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.
You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.
There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.
“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.
Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.
“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.
A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.
He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”
You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.
He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.
You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.
From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.
“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.
You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.
“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.
His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.
“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.
“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.
He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.
“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.
When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.
“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.
“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.
Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.
“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.
A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.
“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”
You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.
“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.
You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.
He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.
You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.
“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.
You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.
+
Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.
“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.
“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”
A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.
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[halloween m.list]
3K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 5 months
Note
hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈
i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)
You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.
Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.
You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.
“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”
Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 
A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”
“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”
Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 
Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.
You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.
Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.
“I’m—”
“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.
You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”
The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”
He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 
He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.
“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”
“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.
“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”
“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”
“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”
You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.
“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”
Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.
He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.
It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.
“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.
You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”
“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 
“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”
You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 
“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.
“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.
“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”
Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.
It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 
But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.
“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.
“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 
Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”
The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.
“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.
Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.
His excitement makes you regret your answer. 
“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”
“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”
The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.
You nod once. “Sure.”
He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.
You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.
You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”
His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.
You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”
You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.
He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 
“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”
“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”
“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”
“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”
Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.
“Eddie,” he finishes for you.
“…Eddie.”
“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”
You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”
Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 
“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”
Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.
“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”
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evilminji · 6 months
Text
I woke up to this thought? And it made me smile~
Wrong way Au?
It's EASY to fly from point A to point B. Linear. Just on long, no traffic, straight line. And if you get lost? Go higher! There you are! But "normal" reporter families with Totally Human genetics can't exactly DO that.
Plus? It's part of the whole Americana thing!
Childhood.
Gotta do a road trip, see weird road side attractions, camp and hike a bit. Go somewhere other then the farm for once. Soooo~ everyone into the car! Yes, you too, Kon.
And don't look at Lois, kids. She hates this idea as much as you do. But it's for Dad. So we're doing it. Get in the car. Some times loving people means "suuuure, honey! I TOTALLY want to sit in an uncomfortable car for hours for your nostalgic dream trip!", so get comfy.
Problem is? He either can't navigate for SHIT (unlikely) or this patch of nowhere? Possibly haunted? Cursed? Fuckey. Very, very Reality Fuckey. Far more likely, honestly. They THINK that was the a same barn the passed four times now... but it looks... wrong? Off. Worse each time, in ways that are hard to place.
Where the FUCK are they Clark?
According to the GPS?
Here.
(You are Here. You are Here. You are He-)
Oh, THAT'S not cursed! She fucking KNEW they shouldn't have left the city. FUCK the countryside. She likes ONE(1) small town and it's where her in-laws live, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! If they die, she swear to GOD-!!!
Then Jon points to colorful tents up the road. A mix of the kind you buy at big box stores and Ren fairs. Balloons. What the fuuuuuck? "Fenton Family Reunion"?
Was... was that THERE a second ago?
Clark's very deliberate Not Too Tight Grip Of Panic ™ on the steering wheel? Confirms that No Honey, it was not. Kon points out? That eventually they ARE going to run out of gas. They should stop.
Words can not express how little the Kents want to do that. They have KIDS to protect. This feels "magical fuckery" to them. AKA? One of the few things Kryptonians very much CAN NOT handle.
And luck getting ahold of anybody back there kids? No? Emergency lines too?
Fuck ™.
Okay! Guess we're stopping! Stay behind us.
They park.
There are campers and trucks, modified tanks and trackers. A few horses grazing side by side with an honest to God moose and two mules. A Llama. Someone's anchored a dirigible. A boat with spindly chicken footed legs, like it's the house of baba yaga's sea faring love child. The name Fenton is slapped on everything. Peoples faces.
Grinning.
Everything grinning.
As they get closer, the racket gets louder. Crashes and smashes. Roaring laughter. Explosions. The screech of metal failing and the whine of energy overclocked. Fatty meats cooking. Spices from around the globe. Radios and instruments, at least one of which violently cuts off in a smash.
They pass an almost violently balloon choked arch, into chaos.
Grinning giants, everywhere. Every color, every shade, every race imaginable. The spectrum of humanity laid bare. Made large. Grinning, Grinning, Grinning. Crashing into each other, against, through. Smashing and laughing, as everything breaks around them. Titans.
Darting underfoot, children. Fast with wild eyes. Mad grins and fae laughs. Wives and husband's, partners and friends, dancing in and out of the chaos. Just as destructive. Perhaps MORE so. Grabbing meals from grills, laughing and joking, tossing children into the fray, all as they effortless hold conversations of their own.
Like a Dionysian revelry, all madness and joy.
Then they are noticed.
"Cousin!"
One of them booms. Locking eyes on Clark. He doesn't even have time to move, doesn't realize until too late, in all the chaos, that the man meant HIM. A running start is followed by a brutal, full body, flying tackle. Clark is taken skidding to the ground and into a headlock.
"LETS WRASTLE~!!"
He watches in helpless confusion as, with high-pitched war cries, a pair of twins jump Jon. They are wearing war paint. Krypto already taken out by a glowing green dog, now confused and wrestling off to the side. Lois has whipped out her tazer. Kon between her and who ever comes next.
By the time he wrestle his "cousin" off of him, he's lost sight of them both.
Dives into the fray.
Magic be damned, that's his FAMILY!
It... It's the most fun he's had in years. That any of them have. He finds Lois in a breathless, screaming, debate/fistfight with her new best friend. Samantha "call me Sam Or ELSE" Manson-Fouley-Fenton. Kon is in the mud pit, wrestling other teenagers in some sort of battle Royale. Jon? Has become king of the ferals. The other parents are impressed.
His years of Damian wrangling finally paying dividends, apparently.
By the time Clark FINALLY tracks down Krypto, there is already crowd and it apparently six heel turns deep into the WWE Grand Saga of the Fenton Pet's League. Krypto, what the hell. No. No you may NOT "form one last alliance against my sworn wrestling enemy, to prove the true meaning of Christmas!" It's the middle of SUMMER!
Clark... Clark is so tired.
He's also a Fenton now. Yes, he KNOWS that's not how anything works. YOU try explaining that! He's on the call list and card list. It's like the Addams family out here! They just... just DECIDED him and his family were related! They've apparently DONE THAT BEFORE!
They leave with directions, fudge, more leftovers then anyone could possibly eat, and a massive new extended family. One that honestly? The Justice League SHOULD have known about. The sheer destructive chaos they get up too? EVERYONE should be aware of them. It seems impossible NOT to be! But? According to THEM, it's a "family thing". Reality tries to ignore them for "it's own sanity"? What???
So yeah.... no more road trips.
How was YOUR weekend?
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @lolottes @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation
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estrellami-1 · 2 months
Text
How Steve Harrington Gets a Family
The first time it happened, Steve didn’t remember. He had no idea why Hopper was acting so weird until Joyce took him aside, sighing softly.
“Oh, honey,” she murmurs. “You don’t remember, do you?”
He frowns at her. “Remember what?”
“You called him dad, Steve.”
“I-” he gapes. “What?”
It goes like this.
He’d been hospitalized, after the Russians; he doesn’t know all the details, won’t for years, but Hopper had escaped from the reactor, thrown his weight—and title—around until someone had put Steve in a room, in a bed, gotten an IV into him, run whatever tests doctors run.
He was delirious with the truth serum still in his system and the adrenaline wearing off, groaning in pain and mumbling nonsense.
Hopper had put a hand on his head, said, “I’ve got you, Steve. You’re safe. It’s okay.”
“Dad,” Steve had mumbled, shifting into Hopper’s hand, and promptly passed out.
“Oh,” Steve whispers after Joyce tells him. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, no shit he’s been acting weird, I mean why would he want me as a kid- shit, I need to apologize-” 
“Whoa,” Joyce says seriously, hands on his shoulders. “Slow down, Steve. You know Hopper loves you, right?”
Steve bites his lip on the snark that wants to come out, instead choosing to just blink at her.
“Christ,” Joyce laments, “I’m going back to school, everyone need so much damn therapy.” She takes a breath and looks Steve in the eye. “Hopper loves you, Steve. He’s considered you his kid for a long time now.”
Steve gapes at her. “No he hasn’t!”
Joyce raises a brow. “Uh-huh. And how many parties has he busted, exactly? And how many marks do you have on your record?”
Steve snaps his mouth shut. “Oh, shit,” he whispers, looking up at Joyce. “He- he does? Really?”
“Really,” Joyce confirms, pulling him into a hug.
“Oh,” he mumbles, before letting himself enjoy the hug.
Later, when he’s about to head home, he stops in front of Hopper, glancing nervously over to Joyce, who nods encouragingly. “Can I, uh. Talk to you? For a second?”
Hopper narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Steve’s eyes widen. “No, nothing! Just-” he sighs, runs a hand through his hair, gestures Hopper out the door and around the side of the house. “So, Joyce and I were talking, right? And I was wondering why you’d been acting weird around me, and I didn’t even remember what I said in the hospital, so Joyce told me, and- and I don’t expect anything from you! At all! And it- how I feel doesn’t have to change anything-”
“Christ,” Hopper says, but he’s smiling. “I think you’re worse at emotions than I am.”
“Well I’ve never had to tell anyone I think of them as more of a father figure than my own father before!” Steve blurts out, then freezes.
Hopper bursts out laughing. “Jesus, kid, do you think before you talk?”
Steve’s not hurt. Really. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking anywhere but at Hopper. “I’ll leave.”
A hand on his wrist stops him. “C’mere, kid,” Hopper says, pulling him into a hug.
Steve stiffens. “What?”
“Boy, you’ve been my kid since the third time I didn’t write you up for one of those damn parties,” he grouses.
Steve relaxes into the hug. “So. If I, uh. Were to, maybe, call you dad again…”
“Just see what I’ll do if you don’t,” Hopper says gruffly, and it’s really not that funny but Steve’s just so relieved that he cracks up anyways.
They pull apart after a minute, and Steve has a giddy grin on his face as he backs up. “Bye, Dad,” he says, before turning and running to his car. Hopper’s laughter follows him.
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He’s been close to Dustin for a while now, but still refuses to call his mom Claudia. The most he’ll do is Mrs. H, even though every time she sees him, she tries to get him to call her by her first name.
He can’t do it. He can’t make himself. Maybe it’s the manners instilled in him, maybe he’s just awkward as fuck, who knows. But he chickens out every time.
That’s why, when she answers the door, he smiles. “Hey, Mrs. H.”
“Steve,” she greets him warmly. “Come in, come in. Call me Claudia. Oh, what is this? I told you you don’t have to bring anything!”
“Just some cookies,” he promises her, putting them down where she directs and falling into the hug she gives him.
“Dear,” she asks him later, when they’re sitting at the table with Dustin, “call me Claudia, please?”
Steve can’t look at her; passes the butter Dustin’s silently asking for. “Sorry, Mrs. H.”
“Jesus,” Dustin groans, buttering his roll. “If you can’t even say her name then at least call her mom.”
Steve’s cheeks are on fire. “That’s not exactly up to me, Dust,” he grits out.
“Oh, dear,” Claudia sighs. “I would love for you to call me mom.”
“Then we’d be brothers,” Dustin adds, “which we basically are anyways.”
Steve snorts. “I don’t think that’s exactly how it works,” he tells Dustin, but takes a breath and smiles at Claudia. “Thanks, Mom,” he says quietly. Claudia beams back at him.
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“I don’t give a damn!” Claudia yells at the hospital receptionist, who really just looks exceedingly bored.
Steve knows the look of someone who’s grabbing their pepper spray. “Mom?” He calls, wet and wobbly, and Claudia spins around, running to his side.
“Oh, Stevie,” she murmurs, gently cupping his hands. “Oh, goodness, your face- have you gotten looked at? Has someone come to see you? Where’s Dustin?”
Steve opens his mouth to answer and promptly bursts into tears. “He’s f-fine,” he manages. “Ankle. Getting- getting helped. But- Mom-”
She hushes him, pulling him down into a seat next to her. “Let it out, Steve, there you go. Mom’s here, I’ve got you.”
He finally composes himself enough to pull back and look at her. “It’s not good, Mom,” he whispers. “I tried, I really did, and I know CPR but he was losing so much blood-”
“Steve,” she stops him, “I thought you said Dustin was fine?”
“He is, it’s just his ankle, but Eddie, Mom… he’s back there, they’re doing surgery, but he- I felt-” he grabs at his own chest, and somehow Claudia knows what he means. “Oh, dear,” she murmurs, pulling him into another hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers into his ear. “You did what you could, you kept him stable until the doctors could do their job, and now it’s their turn, okay? Let them take care of it. They’re gonna do everything they can.”
His eyes well up again. “He didn’t kill anyone, Mom.”
“Oh, I know that, sweetie. It’s okay. I never thought he did.”
“But they do!” He sniffs, wipes at his face. “And what- what if-”
She pulls his attention back to her with a hand on his face. “Did I tell you about the time a known serial killer came in?” She whispers. He shakes his head. “He’d been in an… altercation, with the police. Shots had been fired. We all knew who he was, but when he flatlined on the table, we got his heart beating again.” She grips his hand tightly. “Doctors take an oath, Steve. They’re going to do everything they can. Okay?”
“Okay,” he mumbles, letting her pull him into another hug.
“Y’wanna tell me about Eddie?”
“You know Eddie.”
“Mhm, from Dusty. I’ve never heard about him from your perspective before.”
“I didn’t really know him before today,” he admits. “I knew of him, in high school, a little bit, but then I graduated and he didn’t and then Dustin started raving about him and… I got jealous.”
“Oh, Steve.” She cards a hand through his hair. “You know Dustin will always love you. You’re brothers.”
Steve sighs. “I know, but… we’re also not. I love you more than I love the woman who birthed me, and I love Dust as much as I’d love any biological sibling I could ever have, but-”
“I know,” Claudia says. “It’s okay, dear. Keep going. Tell me about Eddie.”
“Right. So I got jealous, and then I really didn’t wanna meet him, ‘cause he actually sounded kinda cool and I’m just… me. And I know what you’re gonna say, but you’re biased as my mom.” Claudia just chuckles. “But then I met him, and… he’s really nice, Mom. He really loves the twerps. And he’s, like… kind? And I know nice and kind are synonyms but it’s different. Like he’s just… an inherently good person. That’s kind. Nice you can fake. But you can’t fake kind. Y’know?”
“I know what you mean,” she agrees.
“Okay, good. Well he’s kind. He-” Steve sniffs. “He called me a good dude.”
“Well,” Claudia says, smiling, “you are.”
Steve chuckles wetly. “I am now, maybe, but I wasn’t when we knew each other in high school, and I didn’t really expect him to say anything. And he’s so passionate, Mom, and he’s talented, and he’s selfless, but that backfired because it landed him here-”
Claudia hums, strokes a hand through his hair. “How long have you liked him?” He stiffens. “Oh, please, like I haven’t known this entire time. Honestly, Steve, I’m not an idiot. And I’m not some backwards idiot especially who thinks two boys who love each other are the greatest sin.”
“No, it- Mom, you love Robin, of course you’re fine with it, I just- I didn’t… I didn’t realize.”
“Oh, Stevie,” she sighs, running her hand through his hair again. “When he gets out, are you gonna do something about it?”
“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Maybe. If- if he even wants to be friends-”
“Okay, now I know you’re talking crazy,” she teases him, grinning.
Just then Hopper walks in, looking around with wide eyes, stopping when he sees Steve. “Dad!” Steve yelps, standing and walking quickly towards him, stopping about three steps in. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters, because he knows the way the room is spinning and his vision is going out.
He’s out before he hits the ground.
He wakes up later to find he didn’t hit the ground, actually; Hopper had leapt forward and caught him the second he’d stopped walking and started swaying.
He blinks bleary eyes open and finds himself looking at a ceiling tile. “What-”
“Don’t move,” comes Hopper’s voice from beside him.
He turns his head to frown at him. “Dad? What happened?”
“You passed out. Jumped outta Claudia’s arms like she’d burned you when you saw me. Much as I love you, kid, the parent’s gotta go first this time, ‘kay? No more self-sacrificing bullshit and not getting medical attention when you need it.”
“M’kay,” Steve says. “Sorry, Dad.”
Hopper puts a hand on his head. It’s comforting. “Go to sleep, kid.”
When he wakes up again, he’s more lucid. He looks around, sees Claudia asleep in the chair next to him. Looks on his other side, and his breath catches when he sees Eddie. His eyes are closed, he’s still asleep, but he’s alive.
“Mom,” he whispers, tearing his eyes away from Eddie to look at her. He feels bad, a little, waking her, but only a little because he knows she’d tear him a new one if he didn’t. “Mom.”
She starts awake and tears up when she sees him. “Stevie,” she murmurs, cradling his face with her hand.
“Mom,” he says again. “He’s here.”
Claudia chuckles. “You can thank your father and I for that one. We raised hell.”
“I bet you did,” he says appreciatively.
“And you, young man,” she says, too full of love to really be mean, “next time you tell me when you’ve been half eaten, okay? Or have you forgotten I’m a nurse?”
“Didn’t forget,” he murmurs, nudging her hand with his face. “Just wanted to stay with you.”
“Oh, Steve,” she murmurs. “You beautiful boy.”
He falls asleep again.
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He wakes up again later and looks over to see Eddie also awake, and also looking at him. “Eddie,” he breathes.
It’s hard to tell from where he is, but it looks like Eddie’s blushing. “Looks like I’ve got you to thank for saving my life.”
Now Steve’s blushing. “Ah,” he eloquently says. “No, I mean, just- what anyone else would do?”
“Are you asking me?”
Oh, god, is he teasing? Steve barely survived the flirting before, but now there’s nothing else to keep his attention off Eddie, nothing else he can blame the blush on. “…I just didn’t do much,” he belatedly says.
“Bullshit.” He shifts and hisses in pain. “Fuck, those bastards got me good. But that- that’s proof, y’know?”
Steve blinks. He doesn’t know. “What?”
Eddie grins at him. The stitches in his cheek pull, but don’t tear. “That you saved me.”
Abruptly, Steve tears up. He looks away, up at the ceiling, wills the tears to stay inside. “Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you-”
“No,” he answers quickly. Too quickly. There’s an awkward silence now. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I- I felt your heart stop, okay?” He looks over again, knows the tears are there, knowing they’re leaking into his hairline and across the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t sure the doctors were even gonna try that hard to save you. And now you’re joking with me, and-” he takes a quick breath, holds it. Releases it slowly. “‘M just glad you’re okay,” he finally says.
“Oh,” Eddie says quietly. “I, uh. Didn’t think you really… cared. About me.”
“I think I care more than I should.”
Eddie takes a breath. “I’m about to say something way too brave, and I’m only saying it ‘cause we’re both in hospital beds and I’m assuming you can’t just, like, walk over and punch me.”
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. But, uh. Anyways. I don’t… people don’t care about me. My uncle Wayne does, sure, and the kids, but that’s different, and- well. I’ll take whatever care you wanna give me. It won’t be too much.”
“Okay,” Steve says, “well I definitely don’t want to punch you for that, what the hell, but I hope you know you’re gonna get hugged for that as soon as I figure out how to undo all this shit.” He gestures to the tubes in his arms, and Eddie starts to laugh, then stops just as quickly with a hiss.
“Okay, abs got eaten, no laughing,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Shit, dude, stay in bed, you had like five people in here earlier who all told me specifically to not let you out of bed, though how I’m supposed to do that I dunno.”
Steve blinks over at him. “Five?”
“Well- four, now that I count. Dustin was here with his mom, he’s getting released later but was allowed out of bed for a minute and came to see us. Robin, and she looked angry, are you two, like, okay?”
Steve snorts. “Yeah, she’s just worried.”
“And then Chief Hopper, which- do you wanna explain why the actual Chief of Police was in here?”
“Ah,” Steve says, and blushes again. “He kinda, like… adopted me? Not officially, obviously, but he’s… well, I call him dad, so-”
“And Claudia?”
Steve hums. “‘S my mom. Dust’s my brother.”
Eddie snorts. “Jesus, Harrington, d’you just go around collecting people to call your parents? How many d’you have now, four?”
“Nah, just two. My parents fucked off pretty permanently by the time I was nine. And before that I had nannies when they were gone.”
Eddie blinks at him. “You- wait. Back up. You’ve been alone for the entirety of high school?”
Steve thinks. “I mean, I had Hopper, kinda, but that was before he became Dad, so… I guess?”
“Goddamn,” Eddie whispers wonderingly. “And you’re still sane?”
Steve snorts. “Jury’s out on that one, I mean I do willingly hang out with the twerps, so-”
“Fuck, don’t make me laugh, man.” He sighs. “I get it, though,” he says quietly. “Mom was an angel, but… Dad got to her, y’know? Tore her wings off, rubbed her halo in the dirt. Poured alcohol down her throat until she was dependent on it. And him. And when she-” he shakes his head. “Then it was just Dad, and he got sent away ‘cause apparently his new car wasn’t his, y’know? And I went to live with Wayne at twelve.”
“But now you’ve got Wayne.”
“Mhm.” He smiles a little. “Call ’im pops sometimes, ‘cause he’s my real dad now. Sometimes Wayne, sometimes Uncle Wayne. He doe’n’t care much.”
“What’s it like? Living with him?”
“It’s been a dream, honestly. He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met, and he’s got patience to rival a saint. Doesn’t care when I play my music loud, or forget to eat, or bring boy—uh, girls—over.”
Steve hums. “There’s still the house in Loch Nora, but I stay with the Hendersons most days. I tend to bring people I meet to Loch Nora, just ‘cause it’s empty, y’know? I mean, Dust’s a little shit, and he’d tease me regardless of who I brought home. Mom wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d probably give me a condom and lube,” he laughs. “And she’s teaching Dustin to be the same way. He’ll get there one day.”
“He’s a twerp,” Eddie agrees. “I didn’t know you, uh-”
“Mhm,” Steve answers. “Robin says I’m like Bowie.”
“Like Bowie- you’re bisexual?”
“That’s the one!” Steve says happily. “I can never remember the name.”
Eddie looks at him wonderingly. “Who are you, Steve Harrington?”
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Eventually they get out of the hospital, and eventually they stop circling around each other. Eventually they kiss, and fall asleep on the couch, and make each other breakfast, and do certain things behind closed doors that Steve still can’t think about without blushing.
Eventually they’re outside the Munson’s trailer, working in the garden that Eddie, surprisingly, loved.
“Imma go in,” Steve says eventually. “Get a drink.”
“Alright,” Eddie says, not looking up from where he’s pulling weeds near his tomatoes. “I’ll be here.”
Steve has a bit of a headache already, and he knows drastic temperature changes don’t help. He didn’t think the trailer was that big of a difference, but it’s cool enough he’s got goosebumps breaking out along his arms almost immediately. Then he’s hit with a blast of freezing air when he opens the fridge, and his head begins to throb. “Fuck,” he mutters, shutting the door and grabbing for a glass, hoping the sink water isn’t too cold.
It’s cooler than he’d like, but it’s all he’s got right now, and he knows if he doesn’t hydrate it’s going to end up worse. He chugs two glasses, sets the cup down, and goes to sit at the table, rubbing his eyes.
It gets worse almost without him realizing: one second his relatively fine, the next he’s groaning in pain, trying to block out all the light by laying his head on his forearm.
A hand on his back startles him. “Dee?”
“Wayne,” comes the gruff voice. “Not Eddie. Y’got a migraine?”
“Mhm.”
“Y’take anything for it?”
Steve waves a hand. “Had water.”
Wayne leaves for a minute, comes back and presses two pills into Steve’s hand. A glass of water is placed in front of him.
He takes the pills, squinting, and lays his head back down.
“Nuh-uh,” Wayne says, “up you get, c’mon, you’re sleepin’ this off.” Hands at his shoulders guide him out of his seat, shuffle him slowly down the hall to Eddie’s cool, dark room. Lay him down and pull the blankets over him.
Steve sighs and relaxes into the bed, cracking an eye open to look at Wayne. “Thanks, Pops,” he murmurs, then winces when Wayne freezes. “S’rry. Wayne.”
Wayne pets a hand through Steve’s hair. “Pops works just fine,” he says. “I’ll tell Ed you’re in here.”
“M’kay,” Steve breathes, and lets himself fall asleep.
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They’re at Hopper’s cabin, an annual We Saved the World semi-party that usually ends in at least one disagreement.
Eddie’s got most of the kids corralled away in the living room, with promises of an epic one-shot. The adults, Steve, Max, and El are in the kitchen.
He doesn’t know who started it, but someone teases him, and Hopper ruffles his hair with another jab. “Dad,” he complains good-naturedly, laughing.
“Steve?” El asks.
“Yeah?” He looks at her.
“Hopper is your dad.”
Steve glances at Hopper, who’s listening, but making no move to answer. “I mean… not, like, biologically, but yeah.”
“Me too,” El says. “Are you my brother, then?”
Steve flounders. “I- I guess if you want me to be?”
“You’re a good brother to Dustin,” she answers. “I haven’t had any good brothers besides Will, and we are the same age. I would like a good older brother.”
He smiles, tugs her into a hug. “I guess I’m your brother, then.”
She goes willingly. “Does that mean Joyce is your mom too?” She looks up at him, big eyes serious. “She is a good mom.”
“Uh,” Steve says, “that’s kinda up to Joyce.”
“Oh, honey,” Joyce says, because of course everyone had stopped talking the moment El had started. “Why don’t you call me Mama J?”
Steve smiles bashfully, accepting her hug. “Sounds good to me.”
When he tells Eddie later, his boyfriend laughs. “You really do collect parents!”
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bee-wg · 1 month
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Year 2:
“Jay! What the Flip?” It’s the ass crack of dawn, and Theo is already trying his best SpongeBob impression.
“Whaaat?” I yelled back with a mouth full of pancakes.
“You put your dirty clothes on my bed again!” He squealed.
”Dude, you asked for it. What are you whining about?”
“Boys, What did I say about yelling in the morning?” She yelled.
“Yewn, bwintow!” I think Dad was telling us to break it off, but he’s too lost in the Cream Cheese Danish.
Can’t blame him. Delicious and high protein? There’s nothing better.
Theo rushed down with a constipated face. 
“Ewww. They’re still wet to the touch. Wait. Is it dripping sweat?”
Okay. I overlooked the wet part, but he asked me to have it. 
I’ve been cleaning out some gym clothes that don't fit anymore, and Theo wanted some. I’ve decided to fully commit on football and my stocky phase, so I gave that shirt one last try yesterday. It was definitely not made for a more rugged build person. As I walked around the house, I unknowingly soaked it. I used to be disgusted with sweating. I would shower and wash the clothes by hand after each morning run. Recently I’ve been sweating a lot easier, but Dad told me to look at the bright side of things, and I do see it. Usually I would only sweat when I get a real good workout. Since it's easier to sweat buckets, that means I’m getting lots of exercise.
That leads back to this. I don’t feel as compelled to wash them anymore. They’re the result of my hard work on the journey back to being shredded. 
“No more pancakes in the morning for the month.” He said.
“What?…But…You can’t do that.” 
His face tells me, “Yes, loser. I can.”
***
“What happened, dude? Your cat died?” Brad asked.
This is supposed to be an easy practice because it’s the last before the summer. I guess Coach woke up and chose violence. 
I’ve been only doing a few yards of Quick Steps and Sumo squats. My lungs are now collapsing.
I’m only 230 pounds; there are players heavier than me doing better. I’m doing something wrong. It must be because I didn’t have protein pancakes for days.
“Dude, you there?” Brad asked.
Trying not to wheeze, I replied.
“Yeah, S’all good. I’m just hungry.” 
It would be an understatement. When you’re used to protein goods pumping your belly full of energy every morning, what does five English muffins and some hash browns even do?”
“Hahaha, classic Jay. You’re the man.” Brad answers with a slap on my back.
“Gosh, you’re getting sweatier than Aiden.” He said in disbelief.
“Oh, by the way. Aiden’s going to Costco to buy a speaker for our dorm. You mind giving him a lift?” Brad asked.
“Bad timing man, my dad broke the old Toyota. It’s taking a long time to repair.”
“No problem. I’ll see you next semester then. Take care!” Brad waved as he sprinted out of the field.
***
I felt like I could eat a horse when the bus arrived. I passed through the usual stops, and finally.
The warm smell of chicken nuggets invites me.
I pull out my phone and check. Ten consecutive days. I can definitely redeem a free meal today.
“Welcome, what can I get you?” The cashier asked.
“Can I have the Double Western Deluxe Combo?” “ I have the loyalty discount.”
“Thank you, here’s your number.”
After what felt like forever, they finally called my number. 
It’s a pretty big meal, but today’s situation calls for it. 
I’ve been doing pretty well sticking to a fries-only diet when I’m here. With some occasional burgers and soda thrown in, I’ve accumulated a few thousand points to have meals like this once in a while. The only downside is the bus here takes way too long. I guess it’s better than the neighbours knowing I’m a regular customer. 
As I finished the fries, I saw a guy wandering outside with my university’s gym bag.
Wait, is he from the team? 
Wait, is that Aiden?
No. Shit, Is Aiden waving to me?
He’s probably waving to someone else.
Then the door’s jingle chimes.
“Yo, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Aiden said.
My alone time is ruined.
“Yeah man, me too. What brought you here?” I asked.
“Just bought the speaker and couldn’t find any restaurants here. I thought Costco had a food court.” He looked down at my plate.
“Whatchu havin’? Oh Damnnn, that’s a chunky burger!” He said in excitement.
“Haven’t had them in years, my mom hates that shit.” 
I just wish to crawl into a hole at this point.
“Yeah, my mom hates them to-” 
“I should have one too.” Aiden interrupted.
”What?”
Then he came back with a smaller combo with a box of salad.
“Oh man, I’ve been wanting to have a taste for so long,” Aiden said with glittering eyes.
He got a few bites of the burger and fries, then moved on to the salad.
“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked.
“Oh, not much. Probably hang out with the guys. My dad wants me to go to a training camp though. It’s not like I will play football after college anyway, so what’s the point?”
Then we talk about dorm drama and who the coach is going to recommend to the NFL scouts.
He is actually quite chill to talk to. 
“You don’t like it?” I point down to his unfinished burger.
“No, it’s the best thing I’ve had in years. Definitely beating celery or carrots. I just have a diet going on, and I kinda impulse bought this.”
“I could finish it for you.” I offered.
“Really? Thank you so much dude!” He said.
“You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. I always thought you had a stick up your ass.” He added unhelpfully.
By the time the last of his burger and fries disappeared in my stomach, I was ready to sleep it off when I got home. 
My phone rang, waking me up from sleep. It’s 2 AM.
Probably Number Seven. He always calls at an odd hour. 
I picked up the call.
“Duuuuuuude, I didn’t know you go to fast foods. I thought we don’t keep anything from each other.” Instead of number seven, Brad said.
“Jay, knock it off,” Theo grumbled on the other side of the room.
“Keep it down, Brad. What is it?” 
I knew shit would get out of the bag sooner or later. At least I had two weeks of peace.
“Next time let me join too!” Brad said.
What the hell is up with these people? 
“Fine, whatever. Let me go to sleep.”
“Thanks a lot, man. I’ve never had fast food before!”
I have the feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass later.
Brad is calling me. Again.
“Dude, what?” I asked calmly.
“Woah, no need to get so worked up.”
“I asked some of my mates, they all agreed to meet up at the mall’s parking lot,” Brad said.
What is going on? It’s only been five hours since he last called me.
“Don’t forget to bring your laptop and an empty stomach! It’s gonna be an epic summer.” Then he hung up on me.
I should be used to Brad’s bullshit by now. He’s been like this since high school.
The bus on the way there is as tedious as usual. 
Why did he tell me to go with an empty stomach? Didn’t he know that I get really grumpy without any breakfast? It’s worse now without pancakes.
He looks at me eagerly, like a dog finding its treat.
“What is it, man?” I asked as he led me to the back of the restaurant.
Then, no Harry Potter bullshit, he opened the wall.
“What the hell? There was a room back here all this time?”
“Wait, Brad. You rented a party room?”
“It’s sick, right? I thought we could chill here for the summer, and go to the river nearby when we’re bored. Oh, I also brought the guys here. And a projector!”
“How did you afford this? I didn’t know you were rich.” I look at the big ass room with my friends in there already playing video games. Even Aiden the snitch is here.
“Oh, I have a pretty successful OnlyFans account. I thought I could spend it on you guys.”
“…”
“…”
“Good for you, man. Gotta hustle in this economy.”
He ordered a party combo with a bunch of salad. Then we started playing video games. It wasn’t until I was on a losing streak playing Yoshi on Mario Kart, I realized. They were staring at me expectantly.
“What?” I asked.
“So…Can you help us finish?” Aiden said.
Oh no. Not again. I turned to look at Brad.
He responded with a toothy grin.
“Please Jay, you have, like, the biggest appetite out of all of us. Look at all this free food going to waste. I bet you’re still hungry.”
“There are five of you,” I said.
“Marcus can help,” Brad added.
“Wait, me?” Marcus said.
He’s the team’s linebacker. The only guy bigger than me.
“Fine. At least it’s free.” I said reluctantly.
The fact that all of the juicy meat is screaming for my attention might be clouding my judgment.
We continued playing games, watched some movies while I munch
It was pretty fun. I got to talk to the people I wouldn’t usually talk to.
For example, I didn’t know Braxton played piano or Oscar was a hardcore Pokémon card collector.
The rest of the summer continued and the guys would meet up about three times a week.
I should’ve said no the second time Brad asked. But how can I let the food go to waste when the guys need me?
Marcus doesn’t come often because he’s occupied with his boyfriend. So the guys developed a way for me to eat all of their share. I would drink a dubious amount of water to expand my stomach in the morning, giving me more space. 
It was incredibly stupid, but when the guys cheered me up while I devoured the last of the remains, I felt pretty proud of myself.
By the end of the summer, not wanting to waste the last of our freedom. Everyone has been scrambling for things to do.
That’s where Brad’s dad comes in. He organized a BBQ party by the beach and invited all the football Dads from high school who were still in their little group chat. Of course, we are invited too.
“Oh come on, Jay Jay. You have to go, or else I’m gonna be all alone.” Brad whined.
“No Brad. You’re gonna be with twenty people, you won’t be alone.” I replied.
“If you’re worried about not having any swim trunks that fit, you can borrow from my old man, or we could go shopping together.” Shit, he’s awfully insightful.
“Your dad is like, 500 pounds. I’m not that fat, dude.”
Then Theo asked me if he could join cause he had grown out of his swim shorts too. Whatever that means.
That’s how we ended up here with Brad showing me an ugly Hawaii print speedo with a blue Jay on it, and Theo laughing his ass off with him.
“No, I’m not going to wear that,” I said for the final time.
“You’re no fun, Jay,” Theo said.
“Right? This guy gets it.” Brad replied to him.
“So you’re the culprit who made Jay fat,” Brad asked.
”Dude, you don’t know the half of it. I basically sacrificed myself to advance his cooking career.” I added.
“I don’t know. I would think taking care of his laundry, dishes, and meals, just to have him burp in my face and snore at night makes up for it. If anything, I'm doing too much. I should stop doing the protein pancakes agai-“ 
”Theo! You’re literally the best chef in the world. I am honoured to be your Guinea pig for the rest of my life.” I said.
He smiled 
Yes! Crises subverted.
“Hahahahaha you two are so strange.” Brad, who is still listening, said.
The possibility of protein pancakes being taken away from me sends shivers down my spine. I try to refocus on Brad’s shenanigans.
He came out of the fitting room with a professional swimming Jammer.
Why did he even take his shirt off? Goddamn washboard abs.
“Don’t you think it’s too extra for the beach barbecue?” I asked.
“I think it fits him nicely,” Theo said.
“Theo, you get me,” Brad said, then winked at him.
Is he trying to rizz my cousin?
“It’s my turn!” Theo said, grabbing a few trunks he chose.
Then he came out, without a shirt too, wearing a bright orange swim shorts.
“I see you’re putting my gym membership to good use.” Goddamn washboard abs, where did that even come from? Now that I think of it, he’s been fitting my old gym clothes better.
“You look awesome, Theo. The orange fits you nicely.” Brad said.
“I guess it’s my turn,” I said without enthusiasm.
After struggling to pull it up my ass. I walked out with the ugly print forest green trunk that’s wedged between my inner thighs; with a shirt on, thank you very much.
“Woah, look at those hefty thighs,” Brad said.
I’m out of options, and there’s no way I’m walking into another swimwear store again. So we made our way to the counter.
The day for the beach finally arrives, and I can already feel the swim trunks digging into my ass.
What’s more annoying is that Mom and Dad are now angry at me.
I would be angry at myself too.
Now I’m in a car with no AC, listening to how I should make better life choices.
“Jay, I didn’t think you would sneak off for fast food without telling us.” Mom said.
She caught the extra burgers I sneaked in to munch on at night this morning.
“Jacob, don’t you remember what I told you about garbage food?” Dad asked.
He said my full name. He never says my full name.
“If you want fried chicken you could ask mom to make it. You know it’s healthier at home.” Dad said.
“Am I not making enough, Jay?” Mom asked.
“I’m sorry Mom, I know I shouldn’t go,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it, honey. We can get through this together. If you want more fried food, Theo and I will make lots of it at home.”
“I got you, Jay,” Theo said, patting my shoulder.
We finally got to the beachside. After finding a shade to park our car, Dad struggled a bit to get out of the car. It seems like the old Toyota is seeing its last days. We might need to upgrade the car soon.
I know Dad is probably not mad at me, but his disappointment was worse.
Hopefully he can forgive me after getting some barbecue in his stomach.
We started setting up the chairs with Brad’s dad as more of my high school friends and their dads started coming in. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated.
Dad went to greet them and it looked like he fit right in.
He was the Dad everyone’s dad was jealous of but couldn’t help to like him.
I was pretty shocked when I heard Dad wanted to come because he always declined their barbecue invites. 
He was the fittest of the group, but it looks like he is one of the heavier guys here. Dad told me he’s almost 260 pounds now, so Theo and I will probably lose again this year.
I feel conflicted. I wanted to look like Dad before when he had chiselled abs, but I also want to look like him now when he has a much larger presence with the same amount of confidence. I can’t do either correctly.
“You daydreaming, bro?” Brad said.
“It’s nothing. Let’s get the boxes out,” I replied.
“Just so you know, you can tell me whatever you want, Alright?” He said.
“Thanks man, appreciate it.”
He’s too pure to know about my problem with how my abs or belly doesn’t look right.
We got the tablecloth pinned in place to withstand the wind, then set up some disposable tableware.
“Good job, son,” Dad said as he patted my back.
I smiled for the first time today.
Brad’s dad put us on watch duty for the grill while I fought not to drool on the food. 
I’ll get my share. Old people first.
“Jacob? You’re all grown up! You’re a big boy now, almost as big as me. I bet you made your father proud.” Mr. Lancaster said. 
“Mr. Lancaster, you’re here! I didn’t know you were coming.”
He used to take me to his house with Ms. Lancaster when my mom was busy, or when Dad was substituting for other teachers.
Avery and I used to-
Wait, Avery is here?
I looked around to scan everyone.
“Oh, my boy is having a problem with his car, so he is probably not coming.” Mr. Lancaster said.
“We have the same issue too; it’s been a mess. Say hello to Avery for me, eh?”
“Of course, good to see you, Jay.” He replied.
I sighed in relief. I don’t know what to say to Avery if he comes. I missed him, but I also ignored him a couple times when I spotted him at the fast food place.
We served for an hour and a half. I probably lost the 60weight pounds I’ve gained, and my stomach is definitely deflated now.
Note to self: If I ever need to lose weight again, just stare at tasty barbecues all day just to have none of it.
“Ahem. Woah cool! Look at that shiny thing over there. I’m going to go fetch it!” Brad said suddenly, then ran off.
“Wait, you still have your-“
He ditched me.
I tried to flip over both of our grills to no avail.
“You need help?”
“Ahhhhhh!”I yelped.
Ave laughs with his usual lopsided smile.
“I thought you were,” I said.
“Dead? No. I caught an Uber.” Avery said.
“Right. Long time no see.” I reached out my hand for a shake.
“Seriously, Jay? When did you start doing that shit?” Ave said.
Same old Avery then. I took my hand back and hid a grin.
He looked so different I didn’t know how to react. By the looks of it, he’s almost doubled my weight, maybe around 450s. 
“Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.” He said.
“You looked good too.” Now that I see him closely, it suits him, makes him look sturdy. His ass is hanging out in the back like a bra though.
“What were you up to this past year?” I asked.
“Well you know, I screwed up the football scholarship. But it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He said.
“I was pretty depressed for a bit, so I decided to go on one of the self-searching trips to some countries and states...”
Then he told me about the kind people and assholes he met on the way, as we finally sat down with our share of Barbecues.
Ave said that he got to eat food he never imagined existed, learn about cultures that changed his perspective on things.
He said he has never felt freer of any emotional constraints than he is now. I couldn't stop my smile from forming. I’m really happy for him.
He has always been harsh on himself. When school didn’t work, he dedicated his all to sports. On his way there, I felt like I lost a friend.
We talked for hours about the airplane seats being a bitch and how he’s sorry for whoever sat next to him, or about how I am addicted to fast foods and pancakes. He’s probably the only one I know that can relate.
I was lost in the conversation, with Brad interrupting occasionally with strange looks of wiggling eyebrows or smug smiles. I really don’t know what he’s on.
It’s when Dad is folding up the seats, and Brad’s dad cleans up the grill. Ave asked me.
“Wanna do this again sometime? My dad’s coffee shop has a new brownie coming up that he’s really proud of.”
Yes, of course. I wanna learn more about you and be friends again.
“Sorry, men. School is going to be busy. I also need to focus on football more this year, or I will get too fat to play.” I said.
“No problem Jay. You know I’ll always be there for you.” Avery said.
I tried to one arm hug him and he fully embraced me. His body is so warm and unbelievably soft.
For a moment, I wished I was proud like him. But I’m not free like him
Gathering supplies Dad brought, I walked back to the car, forgetting to ask for his number.
The school year started without much fanfare. But the feeling of estrangement grew.
Hanging out with the team was fun, but playing the game just doesn’t bring me the same amount of rush and anticipation anymore, instead, I look forward to the meal after the game that brings me the rush. It’s not like I was playing the game much anyway; I’m a glorified Waterboy now. My job is to refuel the Gatorade or water, then squirt it into the guys’ mouths. After that, I just need to hand them the towel and sit back to finish my hot dog. 
I know the team appreciates me. I would keep doing it for them if not for Coach’s disappointing stares. He probably thought I would be a star player like Dad, but I ended up fatter than the linebacker. I would be disappointed too.
My decision was made following the buzzing call of our defeat.
Chapter 3 ->
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