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#things I’ve heard 5 year olds say
bronze-bits-babyyy · 8 months
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starting this series called “things I’ve heard 5-year olds say”
my cousin talking to her friend:
“Why do you have a napkin in your room?”
“Decoration”
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klaus-littlestwolf · 6 days
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No Matter What- Aemond T.
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Aemond is in love, and he refused to allow his nephew to have her. He will take her from Jacaerys by any means necessary.
Am I just going to keep writing my fics as if Season 2 didn’t happen at all?
Yeah…it’s very likely, yes🤣🤣
Also, for the person that DM’d me and asked if I have a name in mind for Y/n when I write for Aemond, yes. In my mind when I write, her name is Rhaella, I just think it’s the most beautiful Targaryen name I’ve heard. I also love Visenya but I feel it’s overused. The only other name I would potentially use would be Saera.
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She was surprised by her Uncles attitude from the moment she first saw him again.
Y/n and Aemond had been best friends in their childhood. She had climbed onto the back of the Grey Ghost when she was only 5 years old (most people believing that the Dragon knew they were the same when it came to how shy and avoidant they were).
They hadn’t been close up until that point, only being 5 and 6 years old and both being outcasts among their family (though she almost preferred it that way). Y/n had offered to take Aemond with her flying one night after Aegon, Jace and Luke had ridiculed him again and he actually agreed, resting his hand on the nose of a dragon for the first time as Y/n calmed him. Climbing into the saddle and holding onto his niece had been awkward and a bit embarrassing until they were in the air and Aemond knew he was truly born for this.
From then on Y/n offered to take him with her quite often, always after their brothers had bullied one of them again. She comforted him, even once letting Aemond take the reigns and fly Ghost himself (which the pale dragon didn’t like at all sadly and only lasted a few moments), but the fact that she had done it meant the world to him. He promised to take Y/n with him on his dragon as soon as he mounts one, wanting desperately to impress her.
Aemond was Obsessed
Their friendship lasted like that for almost 4 years before that horrible night when Aemond was attacked by her brothers. He had been so excited to tell her about Vhagar, he had actually been running inside to wake her and take her flying like he promised when he was cut off.
She had held his hand from the moment she ran in, trying to comfort him as much as she was able until her mother pulled her away. Aemond raged when she was dragged away from his side but he was held down by Criston Cole from trying to take his Princess back, Daemon carrying the 9 year olds squirming body out and away from him.
As they all left the next morning he tried to find her, Rhaenyra glaring at him as he searched the courtyard and he knew her mother hadn’t let her come and say “goodbye”…that night was the last time he saw her for almost 9 years…
It was the worst thing Rhaenyra could have done. She had made her younger brother desperate, and desperate men do desperate things…he would have her back. No Matter What.
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Aemond dreamed about nothing but his niece every single day after, determined to make her his despite the fact that her mother would never betroth her to him. He knew the only way he could make her his wife was to take her and make it the only option, Alicent would most definitely force their wedding very quickly rather than watch the only “legitimate” grandchild of her husband (other than his brother and sisters 3 children) carry a child unwed (as she was Daemons daughter “secretly” but could at least be passed off as not being Harwin Strongs).
When he finally saw her again he felt his breath stolen from his body, she was stunning, the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. A women now, standing just shorter than Jace as she watched him in his training session with Cole. Aemond fought hard, determined to show her what he had become and he quickly ended the fight with his sword at his trainers throat.
‘Well done my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.’
Aemond rolled his eyes at that. ‘I don’t give a shit about tourneys…nephews. Have you come to train?’ He questioned, looking over the both of them before making eye contact with Y/n who blushed heavily as he did. ‘Niece. It is a pleasure to lay eyes on you again…and you are truly a sight to behold.’ He stepped closer, shoving himself between the Strongs to take her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and looking into her lovely purple eyes. Aemond was comforted to see no fear or disgust on her face, but her beautiful blush was something he wanted to see forever. ‘You are just as gorgeous as I imagined you to be.’ He whispered, leaning close to her ear.
‘Thank you Uncle. You have become ever more handsome, a man grown. The ladies must be fighting tooth and nail for your affections.’ She teased, however before he could respond and insist that he wanted no affections but her own, her bastard brother snatched her hand from his.
‘I would thank you to keep your hands to yourself Uncle, my betrothed should not be touched by anyone but me.’ Jace spoke with a smirk on his face. Anyone with eyes knew Aemond had always been in love with Y/n and his nephew was smug to be able to take any kind of happiness away from him as he always had done.
Aemond composed himself immediately, smiling down at him kindly but Jace could see the rage in his eye, the silent threat that he was giving being clear. ‘I suppose congratulations are in order then.’ And though he said it, he gave none before smiling at Y/n who was then pulled in the opposite direction and out of the courtyard.
‘I do not want to see him touching you again, do you understand me?’ Jace demanded as they got into the castle, Y/n pulling her hand from his angrily.
‘You are not yet my husband brother, don’t you dare order me as if you are. I still have plenty of time to tell mother I would rather be betrothed to anyone but you and that Baela can be Queen by your side one day. I am not an object for you to take possession of!’ And with that she stormed off, Aemond around the corner having heard the whole thing. He knew exactly how to get his girl to be his…though he doubted it would be hard with how his nephew treated his Queen.
‘You should be kinder to your future Queen-‘
‘She is mine, whether she likes it or not. I am to be the King one day, she cannot refuse me.’ Jace joked with Luke who snorted, Aemond turning and leaving the hall. Y/n was his future wife, no matter what he had to do to make sure of it.
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After the horrific meeting to attempt to give Driftmark to anyone but Luke he was sadly reestablished as heir thanks to the King and Aemond found himself in a bit of trouble with everyone at dinner after calling his nephews Strong.
All of them were sent to their chambers and he hightailed it back to her chamber, slipping in before his niece and her guard arrived, hiding behind the wardrobe in case anyone came in with her.
‘I am tired Jacaerys, all I want is a good, long sleep. Just leave me be for the night, I will not answer you if you come back! I need no protection from you!’ She snapped as the door opened.
‘If Aemond-‘
‘Aemond is not here! And now you are not here either, go to your own chambers and give me a night of peaceful sleep after all of this Bullshit!’ She slammed the door, locking it instantly and Aemond could feel his cock hardening in his breeches. Something about hearing her reject Jace was a turn on for him in a major way and he wanted to mark her neck up with as many bite marks as possible, he needed to show his nephew who his Princess truly belonged to.
‘That was impressive.’ Aemond spoke, seeing her nearly jump a foot in the air as she gasped. ‘Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you…I just wanted to see you. I knew your betrothed would not allow you even a moment in my presence.’ Her eyes were slit instantly as he said this.
‘Jace thinks he can control me but I will not let myself be that kind of wife! I am not an object to be owned, to be ordered around in front of his friends to make him look like a strong man or King! I do not want to be his wife or his Queen!’ She snapped and Aemond did his best to look at her softly, wanting her to see his empathy and her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. ‘I am so sorry Kepus! You did not deserve that, I am not angry at you. I am so-‘ (Uncle)
‘Breathe Byka Dārilaros…it is alright. I understand how angry he makes you feel, I hate him as well, remember?’ He teased and she chuckled before stepping forward and not hesitating to wrap her arms around his body, resting her head on his chest. (Little Princess)
‘I missed you so much Kepus…I wanted to write to you but my mother wouldn’t let me. She said it was a betrayal to Luke and that since you didn’t write to me, you clearly wouldn’t care but I-‘
‘I did write to you. I sent letters for months before I received one from my sister telling me to stop, that you did not want to hear from me but I knew that was a lie . There was not a single day that passed that I did not think about how much I missed you…’ Aemond looked down at her, his arms around her to hold her to him, hesitating only a moment as he looked into her soft eyes and pressed his lips to hers.
She surprised him a bit when she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, her hands moving to hold his shirt tightly as he took her face into his and held her close. Y/n was his everything and he had been craving for this exact moment since he was 6 years old, wanting to kiss her since the moment they first flew together. She will be his and he will keep her close forever, determined to never let anyone touch what is his ever again-especially Jace.
‘You are so perfect…’ he mumbled against her lips before pulling away and resting his forehead on hers. ‘Do you want this? I don’t want to force you into anything you do not desire, my love…however I want you to be mine. I have craved you for so many years and I will cherish the ground you walk on if you will be mine.’ Aemond knew giving her the choice would make the difference in pushing her to do what she wanted even against her mothers wishes.
‘I love you Kepus, I always have…our mothers will never-‘
‘There is a way…My mother will insist upon it if I have already filled you with my son…’ he tried to speak softly, let her know that it is her choice to make. ‘I love you Byka Dārilaros, and I want you to be my wife more than anything. The thought of being forced to marry another turns my stomach however I will never force myself upon you. If you would marry Jace then I will love you from afar…but if you want me then I will make love to you right here and now. I will pleasure you all night long until you are so full of me there is no doubt you carry my son and then I will sleep inside of your pretty little cunt for our family to find come morning…let me love you in every way that he can’t.’ There were tears in her eyes as he finished speaking to her and he moved to wipe them away before she spoke again. Y/n reached up, taking the eyepatch covering his sapphire into her fingers before he caught her wrist awkwardly. No lady had ever seen his face and not been uncomfortable or disgusted by it which is why he always covered it whenever he wasn’t alone in his room or in the library.
‘I would look upon your face and see all that you are…while you fill me with our first child.’ He looked at her, startled for a moment before he released her hand and she pulled the eyepatch off.
‘First of many…I will fill you with as many children as you desire.’ Aemond promised before kissing her again, his hands moving to the back of her dress where he unlaced the corset and pulled it down her arms, lifting her out of the dress and moving to drop her onto the bed. She pulled off her small clothes as she watched him remove his shirt and breeches, leaving him bare and revealing his hard cock that was already leaking. ‘You are so beautiful, my love…tell me that you’re mine.’ Aemond insisted, his hand giving his member a firm stroke.
‘I’m yours Kepus, all yours forever.’ She promised as he crawled over her, kissing his jaw and down his neck sweetly. She was just so precious he couldn’t help the needy feeling in his chest demanding he take her.
‘All mine! Should any man look at you even a moment too long ever again, I will remove their eyes and feed them to the ravens.’ Aemond pushed her legs apart more so that he could settle between them, feeling her wetness on his cock for the first time and nearly cumming on the spot. He gave her a moment to relax herself upon pushing into her however she shocked him once again, moaning like a whore only a moment later prompting him to shove his hand over her mouth. ‘If someone hears you then your guard will come in here and we will be dragged apart. I would hear your lovely moans forevermore once I’ve filled your cunt but for now you must hush.’ She whined but bit her bottom lip hard to keep from making any loud noises. Aemond loved the knowledge that he could make her moan like that, in love with fucking her body already as he thrust up into her roughly. Her nails dug into his shoulders, scratching down his back painfully which sent a rush of pleasure through his belly upon him sucking hard on her throat, biting into her perfect skin quite hard and covering her mouth with a hand once again as she nearly screamed, her pussy tightening around his cock in a way he had never felt before which practically dragged his own end from his body. ‘Gods be good, I’ve never felt anything like that before…you felt good?’ It was an insecure moment of him needing that reassurance and while with anyone else he would have been instantly embarrassed, she nodded, quite dazed it seemed and he knew she didn’t judge him for a moment. ‘Your cunt is a form of blissful ecstasy I did not know was attainable. You are mine now Y/n…say it…’
‘Yours Aemond…all yours…you will be my husband as soon as next week and you will be able to have me anytime and any place you desire. I never thought it could feel like that…I love you Kepus.’ Her words touched him and in that moment Aemond knew that he would never need anyone else in this world again as long as he had Y/n and their future silver haired babies.
‘I love you too Mandianna, I always have. From this night on they will never be able to steal you from me again! You are all mine Y/n…and I will take pleasure in making sure everyone knows it.’ He made his point as he thrust his hard cock up into her once more prompting her sharp intake of breath, nails digging into his forearms before pulling him down to kiss her. (Niece)
Aemond spent the night filling his future wife with as much of his seed as his body held, biting her perfect pale skin everywhere he could reach and ensuring no one would ever be able to argue who she belonged to again. He finally had what he had always wanted, the only things left to do was put a tiara upon her head and meet their children.
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The knock on the door was the thing that awakened the both of them the next morning quite early and far too soon considering how many hours Aemond had spent filling his bride…(6 hours). It was frantic and Aemond groaned, pulling Y/n closer into his chest as he was happy to ignore it before her mother shouted.
‘Y/n! You aren’t at breakfast and neither is Aemond! If he is in there with you…!’ She warned and Aemond found the half threat amusing.
‘Aemond! Are you in there?!’ His mother was the one shouting through the door now and he smiled, kissing his soon-to-be-wife’s lips before responding.
‘Good morning mother!’ He responded.
‘You Little Fuck! If you’ve hurt my daughter I swear to all of the Gods!’ Rhaenyra raged. ‘Daemon! Get This Door Open!’ She demanded.
‘He did not hurt me mother!’ Y/n stated just before the first loud hit to the door causing his girl to scream, turning to hide her face into his neck as he sat up. It took 2 more strikes before the door burst open and their mothers entered along with Daemon and Otto. Y/n was covered up to her waist while her upper body was pressed to his leaving only her back exposed.
‘Aemond! What have you done?’ Alicent asked sadly, clearly trying to think of a solution, knowing there was only one in this situation.
‘You all know that we have loved each other since we were children. Did you think that would go away just because you didn’t give her my letters sister?’ Rhaenyra’s eyes widened before she glared at him in a rage.
‘What is he talking about?’ His mother asked.
‘I didn’t want him speaking to her! She will not marry her Uncle like-‘
‘Like you did?’ Alicent deadpanned making the Princess look to her. ‘She will actually marry her Uncle, from this moment they are betrothed-‘
‘My daughter is already betrothed to-‘
‘Not anymore!’ Otto cut her off. ‘From this moment on the Princess Y/n Velaryon is to be wed to Prince Aemond Targaryen. The wedding will take place at the end of the week, we cannot have anyone knowing of these indiscretions when she begins to show as I am assuming she is likely pregnant?’ He asked Aemond who grinned.
‘Oh, most definitely. I’ve left no doubt that she carry’s my son. I was actually planning on filling her with another one before you so rudely broke the door down-‘
‘Do not push your luck Aemond!’ His Grandsire warned.
‘I should remove your head you insolent little shit.’ Daemon growled, Aemond seeing the rage in his eyes.
‘Then your grandchild would be without a father, Uncle. What purpose would that serve except ensuring your daughter hates you?’ Y/n moved her hand to pinch his side making him jump. ‘I’m sorry Byka Dārilaros.’
Aemond could see the surprise at his apology in his mother and Grandsire’s eyes. ‘Maybe this will be a good thing after all.’ Otto considered before turning to leave the room.
‘No more fooling around. Get dressed and get to breakfast. Now.’ With that his mother guided Rhaenyra and Daemon reluctantly out of the room.
‘Can your husband help you get dressed my love?’ Aemond questioned and she kissed his shoulder before biting his neck as he had done to her about 30 times the previous night, the evidence of which was very clear to see all over her chest and breasts. Aemond was proud though, because while she could hide those the 5 marks on her neck were not able to be hidden before breakfast where he was eager for Jace to see them.
They were both dressed 10 minutes later, their hair staying down until after they broke their fast for the day, Aemond leading her down the halls and enjoying the smile on his girls face as they entered the room with their family. He sat her down beside him and watched her fill her plate and eat, clearly hungry from their previous nights activities which filled him with pride at being able to satisfy his wife.
‘What is that?’ A voice demanded and everyone looked up to see Jace pointing at Y/n’s neck.
‘Jace, we will discuss this after we eat. You-‘
‘No!’ He cut his mother off, jumping up from his seat and moving to Y/n’s side in an instant, yanking her hair to the side and looking at her neck. Aemond heard her whimper in pain as he pulled her hair, holding her chin to expose her throat to him and he was instantly up from his chair with his hands on Jace.
‘That’s Enough!’ Rhaenyra shouted before Aemond punched his nephew who nearly flew backwards at the force his fist caused before he moved to grab him again, a voice calling his name through the jumble of people yelling which had his attention immediately.
‘Come eat with me Kepus, please?’ Y/n asked softly and he couldn’t deny her that as she held her hand out. Aemond moved to take it, lifting her onto his lap and sitting to eat, feeding her and feeling proud at providing her what she needs, thoroughly enjoying her feeding him as well.
It seemed that everyone was shocked at Aemond disengaging from the fight but his attention was on his soon to be wife as it should be. ‘We should go for a morning flight after breakfast…let me take you for a ride as I promised, late as the kept promise may be.’ Y/n looked up at him and he could see her surprise which he found adorable.
‘You…you want me to-to ride Vhagar?’ She questioned and he chuckled.
‘Not alone of course but yes, I had wanted to take you up with me the night I mounted her but that clearly didn’t happen. It will be fun, I promise.’ The smile on his girls face was worth everything to him. She was precious and he would keep his wife happy no matter what. If that meant that his nephews and older sister needed to be un-happy, then that was just icing on the cake for him.
He finally took her flying with him later that day, though it made her own dragon quite grumpy and forced her to take Ghost for his own flight before they could go back home. Aemond had finally kept his promise, and had ensured he got exactly what he wanted in the end.
Now all that is left for Aemond to do is figure out how to make Y/n his Queen and fulfill his dream of his wife riding him on the Iron Throne.
That one may take a bit more work, but he would ensure it, No Matter What.
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Aemond T. Masterlist
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chericherrybaby · 4 months
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I’LL PICK YOU UP ON THE WAY HOME
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Summary, Jealous ex-boyfriend, Harry picks you up from a party after a last choice call was made from you.
Warnings, Jealous Harry?
This is so many words and not much dialogue. Enjoy the first of many!!
Harry was an ex you hadn’t spoken to in almost two years.
He was someone you had loved very much at the time, he was just a little bit too protective over you at the time, which is not what you had wanted as a 21 year old girl who’s friends loved a party.
You had never ridded his contact of your phone, it felt strange since he had been the first number to go in it after you had gotten it with him. Plus, he had never done anything wrong and you felt slightly bad for ending things the way you did.
You hadn’t been together that long at the time, you had told yourself hundreds of times, trying to rid the guilt you had whenever one of your girlfriends would tell you how miserable he was.
It was terrible that one of your girlfriends was dating his best friend, and you were a main source of topic for their entertainment.
You had thought about calling him as soon as your date had pulled up to the house, you could hear the music booming atleast 4 streets away and the place looked crammed with 17 year olds, a weird place for a 25 year old to take you on a first date.
He had led you inside the house, letting you follow his heels, greeting almost everyone that was in his path.
Your first red flag was a girl coming up to your date, who was unfortunately named Chad, you’d heard it all from your girlfriends already, and him hugging her with his hands a bit too close to somewhere they shouldn’t be.
This had made you pull your phone out, scroll down to the very bottom of your contacts and send a quick message to someone who may not even answer you, you’d been so lucky he hadn’t blocked you already and you were so grateful.
You sent a quick “hey” and hoped the recipient didn’t hate you as much as you hated yourself for texting him.
About an hour later, the party felt a bit dull compared to when you had arrived, everyone feeling lulled on the couch from everything they had drank, smoked and consumed in many other ways.
Including your date.
You had never been happier to feel your phone ringing in your back pocket and feel the excitement yet dread when your screen read “Harry Styles”
“Hello” you said sounding a little ashamed, making your way to sit on the front porch away from the booming music and the yelling of party goers who were still feeling their high.
“Hey” he replied sounding a little too groggy for you liking, like he’d woken and immediately called you “Why’d you text me? Thought you wanted nothing to do with me”
You felt your heart pang a little at this, but you could feel the hurt in his voice also “I’m at a party with a bunch of high schoolers. I need an escape”
“Gonna need more than that to get me going Y/N” he’d never sounded so irritated to you, but you also understood. The first time you’d texted him in almost two years was for an excuse to leave a party.
“Please come get me, i’ve basically been ditched and none of the girls know i’m here” You sighed feeling so ashamed you were doing this”
Harry ended the call. You waited, hoping he was still the sweet boy you had met 5 years ago.
10 minutes later, Harry’s car pulled up outside of the house. You jumped to your feet, jogged over to the car and placed yourself in his passenger seat
“Thank you so much Harry” you looked at him, your eyes pleading for his to meet yours.
He hummed in acknowledgment.
You sat in silence for 5 minutes while Harry drove in the direction opposite of your apartment, He came to a stop when he came to a quieter road with houses all using dimmed lights. He turned the car off and placed his hands in his lap.
“What are we-”
“Why have you done this to me Y/N? You know i’m still so utterly in love with you. So you text me at 11pm a shitty message saying ‘hey’”
“In my defence you’re the one who called me, you could’ve ignored my message and blocked me, you can’t blame me for your lack of self control”
You heard harry chuckle quietly to himself, that’s when you realised you’d said something that maybe you shouldn’t have.
“What are you even doing at a party full of children, you’re 23 Y/N” Harry finally looked at your face, your red cheeks prominent and wasted makeup.
His heart broke knowing after he dropped you home, you were gone again and there was nothing he could do about it.
“I was supposed to be on a first date, but instead he drove us to a high schoolers party. Basically touched up a girl right infront of my face, then got pissed and probably even high while letting me fend for myself when these are people he knows”
Harry slightly laughs to himself, but tires to cover it up by slapping his hand over his mouth. “You sure know how to pick ‘em”
“Picked you. You’re alright” You remarked back and Harry’s head quickly snapped back up to you and slightly glared at you “Sorry, that was really mean”
“I really fucking hate when you go on dates, y’know. Makes me so cross knowing ‘yer going out with all these shit guys when i’m right infront of you”
It’s like he was on his knees begging, pleading for you to love him. Tearing his heart out of his chest ready to give to you.
“You’ve always been such a jealous prick” You smirked at him and he couldn’t help his lips curling up into a smile.
“Hard not to be, look at you. You’re insane and i had my chance and fucked it with you, Cause i was scared to lose something i wanted forever”
You sighed and reached over to place your hand on top of his, he flinched away slightly. You curled your fingers around his hand and held it tightly.
“I love you” You admitted shamefully “It never went anywhere and i think i may just be slightly ashamed that i ended something so good just for what? To get drunk and dance around at a party full of strangers. When i had you waiting for me with open arms no matter the time i came back”
Harry shifted in his seat and moved towards the centre console of his car, you kicked your shoes off and sat cross legged on his passenger seat. Turning towards him, being able to see his face fully.
“You infuriate me, you know that don’t you” He says moving closer, close enough you could feel his breath of your face.
Swearing you could heart his heart beating out of his chest.
“Can you please” You thought for a second, were you making the right decision? Telling him you wanted him all over again, when you feared you may be slightly high from all the fumes in that house party.
Harry hummed gently “What would you like, Angel? Anything for you. I swear” His eyes flicked down towards your lips but quickly returned to your eyes.
“Kiss me” you practically begged him.
His lips crashed onto yours, his hands finding your jaw and cupping your cheeks while you sat in, what felt like an isolated area.
Kissing a man that you thought was just madly possessive over you, instead he just wanted the world for you, and you were the world to him.
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logansargeantsbabymom · 5 months
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Too Good To Say Goodbye pt2
Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader, Grid x Fem!Reader
warnings: cursing, pregnancy, shit-talking, grid baby
part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10
F1 Masterlist
Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
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It had been 5 months since my last encounter with Logan. Well, the last time I actually talked to him, if you would consider the argument we had as “talking”.
After I stormed out the house with my suitcase I made my way to my Best Friend Lily’s house and told her everything. Since Lily lives with Alex, he obviously heard everything that happened and absolutely reamed Logan a new asshole.
Lily and Alex were nice enough to let me stay at their place until I was able to get on my own feet again. Lily was adamant on making me stay until after the baby was at least 6 months old, so that I could comfortably move everything out without dealing with either a pregnancy bump or a newborn that would need constant attention.
-
Today was the Miami Grand Prix and I attended to cheer on my Grid family and the second Logan’s eyes fell on me, he sprinted over, his hand immediately touching my stomach
“oh my baby, how are you my love? how’s she doing for you?” Logan said coming in to try and place a soft kiss to my lips, only for me to step back “cmon babe. i’ve done everything to win you back, let me just be with you. i need to be in my daughters life” Logan said with pleading eyes.
“and you will be, just not with me in yours,” i say, removing his hands from my bump “and don’t touch my stomach without my permission, especially when it’s hot outside.”
Logan looked shocked at my comment but tried to shrug it off putting his hands right back on my stomach “my pretty girl, tell your mommy to forgive daddy, daddy didn’t mean what he said”
“Hey! She fucking said to stop touching her.” a voice yells, Logan turn to see who interrupted his time with both his love and his baby
“Listen Lando, this doesn’t concern you.” Logan scoffed attempting to put his hands right back on my stomach but Lando quickly stepped in front of me.
“It actually does concern me, seeing as you’re touching my girlfriend AFTER she told you to stop.” Lando’s voice stern, absolutely shocking Logan
“your girlfriend?” Logan looked sad, heartbroken and utterly confused
“yes, MY girlfriend,” Lando started “The woman you let slip away, the woman who might be carrying your baby but will probably see me as her dad, the woman you mistreated, the woman of my dreams and my beautiful, strong, confident girlfriend”
My hormones were absolutely not on my side because the more Lando went on, the more I started crying.
I’ve never felt this type of love with Logan, I mean yeah in the beginning of the relationship it was pure bliss, but after the first 2 months it was just like we were roommates that fucked and occasionally told the other we loved them whenever we were in private.
In public however, we seemed like the happiest ever, like there was nothing wrong in our world. That we were obsessed with each other, like the world would stop revolving if we were conjoined at the hip.
I can admit, for 2 weeks after my breakup with Logan and blurting out that I was once again with child, I couldn’t stop thinking about how cruel it would be to my daughter to not be with her father and for a second I almost went running back to Logan and begged him to forgive me for my outburst and to take me back. When I went to confide in Lando and ask him if I should go back, he told me that was the dumbest thing I could’ve done because if it is beneficial for my daughter it would be the worst years of my life knowing her dad thinks so lowly of me.
Lando was really my rock during my whole breakup and pregnancy, he encouraged me to move out of Lily and Alex’s house and into his in case something happened in the middle of the night, if I needed something and just because he overall thought I shouldn’t have to live alone while I was pregnant.
Lily thought it was weird that I moved into Lando’s place just 2 weeks after moving in with her but she made me promise to go over to hers at least once a day so she could talk to her niece.
I was quickly pulled out of my daze when I felt a small tug on my arm. It was Lando urging me into the McLaren garage after Logan started throwing a hissy fit.
“What the fuck is his problem?” Lando said with a light chuckle to ease the mood, placing his hand on the small of my back before quickly yanking it away. “Sorry, I know you just yelled at Logan for touching you without permission, and I just did the same thing. Can I touch you?” Lando asks, genuinely upset that he did the same thing I reprimanded Logan for, the only difference? I craved Lando’s touch, whereas Logan’s sent a nasty shiver down my spine.
Both my hands taking both of Lando’s. One hand I guide to the small of my back and the other I guide to my bump and I watch as Lando’s eyes widen.
This is the first time I’ve let someone other than Lily touch my belly and Lando was determined to take in this moment. The look of excitement evident on his face as he feels her kick.
“OH MY GOSH, DID YOU FEEL THAT? I mean- obviously you felt that, she’s inside of you but SHE KICKED Y/N/N, SHE KICKED!” Lando screamed in excitement, almost like a kid in a candy shop.
The look of adoration and love on Lando’s face made my heart almost burst. I drowned out all the excited squeals from Lando as I pulled him in for a kiss, smiling into it.
“You’re so cute when you’re excited,” I start saying before seeing the engineers ushering Lando to his car "Okay lover boy, give me a kiss and go to your car" I said pulling him right back into a quick kiss.
"Can I give baby a kiss too?" Lando asks with pleading eyes
"LANDO, GET A MOVE ON MATE! RACE STARTS IN 5" Oscar yells from the inside of his car before putting his helmet on
I chuckled before giving Lando a nod watching him as he quickly leans down and presses a firm kiss on the top of my belly before dedicating the race to my unborn daughter.
Dedicating a race to someone is a big task, if you end with a bad position or DNF it makes everything awkward but I have faith that Lando will end up on the podium.
-
We’re now down to the last 10 laps and the gap from Lando in first and Max in second just keeps getting bigger and bigger. The anxiety I’m feeling right now is worse than when I was waiting for my pregnancy test results.
The amount of laps only decreased and with every lap down, the gap grew. Once we were down to the last lap and the gap from Lando to Max was at a whopping 7.7 seconds everyone knew that Lando had secured his first win, he just needed to not fuck up and crash.
Once the checkered flag came into view, tears welled up in my eyes. Not only had Lando secured his first Formula 1 win but he had prior dedicated this race to my babygirl.
As the team ran to the pit lane, Zak came to view and offered me his arm which I gladly took as we made our way to where Lando would soon be.
"Lando's lucky to have you by his side, I know he dedicated his race to the little one," Zak starts. I can tell Zak wants to add more but he doesn't want to overstep a boundary, but with a nod of approval from me, he continues. "How do you feel about this whole Lando-Logan situation?"
"What do you mean?" I cock an eyebrow at him
"I mean with Logan being your daughters biological father but Lando being more of a full-time dad than Logan'll be?" a confused look falls over my features as I think over Zak's question. "I mean no disrespect Y/N, just curious."
"No, no I mean. We wouldn't be in this situation if Logan hadn't acted the way he did, so if he doesn't see his daughter as often as he wants that's his problem." I said nonchalantly shrugging. "But no more Logan talk. Lando actually finished the race and finished first, I think we should all celebrate." I say as I unlock my arm from Zak's as I watch Lando get put down from the crowd of McLaren engineers as he makes his way to me, wrapping an arm around me pulling me into a big sweaty hug.
"Oh my gosh Lando, I love you but you smell incredibly sweaty and it's gonna make me throw up." I say half joking as I gag, not even noticing the slip up. Not at least until I see Lando smile impossibly harder, " what?"
"You said you love me" I didn't even have a chance to process that I did in fact say that I loved him because Lando pulled me into a hot and steamy kiss, one that for sure would also make the news in a few minutes.
"I mean I didn't think that I'd be able to love, especially not after Logan. You changed that for me, but my god, please get on the podium and shower. I'm going to throw up." I say with love, adoration, proudness and sickness in my voice all at once.
"I love you so much more. You and baby" Lando says before pressing another quick kiss to my lips before being dragged to the cool down room
-
After the podium celebration and a shower Lando makes his way to me, pressing a tender kiss to my lips before asking me "All of the grid some team principals are going to this one bar, it's karaoke night. I really want to go but if you're not feeling up to it, we can just stay in at the hotel."
"Baby, you just scored your first win. Of course we can go." I say as I put my hand on his cheek before moving it to his hair, running my finger though it.
-
When we got to the bar we automatically spot the rest of the grid. I mean how could we not, they took up half the bar space?
"Baby, you can go grab a seat, I'm gonna grab us drinks, and before you say anything. Yes, I'm getting you a f/d." Lando said pressing a kiss to my temple.
"You know me so well. I'm gonna go say hi to everyone." I said as I squeezed Lando's hand before making my way to the group of drivers, WAGS, and team principals.
The second I was spotted by the WAGS they all made a beeline towards me peppering me with questions and asking if they could touch my tummy, all of which I gave permission to. I look at the rest of the table, waving at all of them and they all wave back knowing it might be a minute before they get a proper 'hello' because of all the attention my daughter is getting. I had made brief eye contact with Logan offering a tight-lipped smile before feeling a tap on my shoulder.
"Here you go, pretty girl" Lando says as he offers me my f/d which I gladly accept before looking back at Logan, only to find that his spot is empty. I don't give it much thought before I indulge myself in a conversation with the rest of the WAGS as Lando goes and has individual conversations about his win.
"Ladies and gentleman can I have your attention?" some lady says into the mic "the karaoke machine is now on and we already have our first request!" the bar erupts in claps and whoops as we all wonder who the first singer would be
"Singing 'Too Good to Say Goodbye' by Bruno Mars, put your hands together for Logan Sargeant"
My face fell as the song starts
"I've made mistakes, I could have treated you better. I let you get away. There goes my happily ever after." Logan starts, staring into my soul
"Tell me why, why can't we try and start again? This can't be how our story ends. You're more than my girl, you're my best friend. Tell me you remember when, ooh, I was your man and you were my girl It was you and me against the world" tears start welling in my eyes as he continues singing.
A firm hand on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to see that its Zak
"Don't you love Bruno Mars, why aren't you singing?" I stare at him, the tears on my waterline threatening to fall. I don't answer him though, I just turn my body back to the man on the stage.
"Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye, goodbye." The whole grid is staring at Logan in shock. They all know what he did and he has the nerve to sing this song to me on stage?
"Yeah, I'm still in love with you darlin'. I know you feel the same Oh, what's the point of both of us being broken hearted? I pray it's never too late" Me? Still in love with you? In your dreams Sargeant
"Girl won't you listen? It's you that I'm missin' . Take my hand, I wanna go, I wanna go. If we're gonna fight this fight for better days. I know we're gonna make it. This is the chance, let's take it." From another person's perspective, this would seem like a nice grand gesture to win back the woman of his dreams. I mean who wouldn't want their man to sing a song about wanting a second chance after he royally screwed up?
"Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye goodbye Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye, goodbye" The songs ends and half the bar erupts on claps and whistles as Logan stares in my eyes before talking into the mic.
"Y/N, baby, I know I screwed up. I'm trying to make this work. For you and our babygirl, just please give me a chance. I don't ask for much, really. Just a chance to undo my wrongs, a chance to make you the happiest woman on earth, a chance to rebuild our family. I want a chance to be in my daughter's life" Logan said sniffling as he wiped his nose before continuing "I really hope you liked this and it's enough to change your mind." Logan finished as he hopped off the stage making his way to me
Lando's protective side started to show a bit because the second he picked up that Logan was making his way to me he instinctively stepped in front of me, only backing up when I rested my hand on his bicep.
"Why? Why would you assume that I'll get back with you after that Logan?" I ask, my eyes raking his face for any type of clues. I don't know what I was expecting to come out of his mouth, but the reply he gave me wasn't it. It also not only made my blood boil, but everyone who knew about the situation's blood boil.
"Zak said you would"
I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ONEEEEEE <3333
Lemme know if I should keep going!!!
taglist:
@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @eddieharrington
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megamett44-lover · 1 year
Note
can you do the reader seeing matt with a little kid (around 5 or 6) and getting some crazy baby fever? thank youu <3
UGH I LOVE THIS
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Matt Sturniolo x Reader
Summary: In which Y/n brings Matt to her family reunion
Warnings/Notes: She/her pronouns
Requested? Yes!
Dress Up
Bringing Matt home with me for my annual family reunion was insisted upon by my parents. My whole family absolutely adored him, always asking me to bring him around more. Hence why now, here we were, about a ten minute drive away from my grandparents home, where everyone would be meeting.
Having never met my extended family before, it was understandable for Matt to be nervous. He held my hand as he drove, lightly brushing his thumb over my knuckles every few seconds.
“You okay?” I ask, squeezing his hand lightly.
He looks over at me, trying to hide his nervous expression. “All good.” He says.
I nod, turning my attention back to the road. “You don’t have to stress, everyone is gonna love you.”
He chuckles. “If I can win your dad over, I’m sure I can do anything.”
I roll my eyes. “Please.” I say. “You never had to win him over. He was practically calling you ‘son’ before he even met you.”
“Right.” Matt laughs.
Siri breaks our conversation, telling us to turn left and our destination would be on the right. As we pulled into my grandparents drive way, a wave of nostalgia hit me. The long gravel path leading to an old white plantation house surrounded by the most beautiful flowers. I had helped my grandmother plant different flowers in her garden for many Summers when I was younger. The neatly trimmed hedges wrapping around the edge of the porch that my grandfather always insisted on keeping up himself because “nobody else could do the job right.”
I noticed many other cars parked out front, indicating a lot of my family members were already here. As we parked, I kissed the back of Matt’s hand. “Ready!” I asked.
“For sure.” Matt smiled.
As we walked onto the porch, the sound of laughter could be heard from inside. We didn’t even have a chance to knock before my grandmother opened the door.
“My Y/n!” She said, embracing me. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“Hi, Gran.” I say, returning her hug.
As we pulled away, she noticed Matt beside me.
“Now this must be the young man I’ve heard so much about.” She smiles at Matt.
“All good things, I hope.” Matt chuckles nervously.
I laugh. “Gran, this is my boyfriend, Matt.”
“Pleasure to meet you dear.” My grandmother says, embracing Matt as well. Pulling away, she smiles at us both. “Well come on, everyone has been asking for you.”
Walking instep with my grandmother and Matt slightly ahead, she leans in and whispers softly. “He’s handsome!”
“Oh, Gran!” I laugh.
“I’m serious!” She says. “If I was only 60 years younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”
As we walked into the crowded parlor, we were greeted by a chorus of “Hey” and “Welcome home”. A lot of family come up to me, since the last time I had seen most of them I was young. Most of them were eager to meet Matt, having heard I was dating a “famous Los Angeles boy”.
Excusing myself for a moment, I go grab a couple waters for Matt and I from the kitchen.
“Oh hey, Y/N.” My aunt says, seeing me enter. Her and a collection of other family members were working on tonight’s dinner, the smell immediately making me hungry.
“Smells great in here.” I compliment, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge.
“Thanks!” She beams at me. “Oh, your cousins are around here looking for you. They wouldn’t stop talking about how excited they were to see you.”
I laugh. “I’ll keep a look out for them.”
My aunt and uncle had two twin girls, Charlotte and Katherine. They had just turned six and they were adorable. I had spent a lot of my youth babysitting them, resulting in me having an older sister relationship with the girls.
Walking back to the parlor, I notice most of the family had gone to the back yard. Scanning the yard, I cannot seem to see Matt anywhere. I grab my phone to text him, but then I hear giggling coming from down the hall followed by a deeper laugh that I recognize to be Matt’s.
Walking down the hall, I notice the light in the playroom is on. I hear a few voices coming from inside.
“We’re going to make you look so pretty.” I hear a young voice that I recognize to be Katherine’s says.
“Oh, really?” Matt asks.
“Yes!” Charlotte assures. “Y/n is going to love it!”
I peek in the doorway to the playroom to see Matt sat on the floor, with my cousins braiding his hair. I notice he has a few hair bows in, along with a feather boa around his neck.
I giggle softly, watching my cousins give him a makeover.
“Can we paint your nails?” Charlotte eagerly asks.
Matt looks down at his nails, the old paint peeling off of them.
“I think I’m in need of a manicure, so sure!” Matt agrees.
“Kat, grab the princess stickers and pink polish!” Charlotte demands.
Hearing this, I accidentally laugh too loud, giving my position away. All three of their heads whip in my direction.
“Y/N!” Charlotte and Katherine say in unison, running up and hugging my legs.
“Hi, girls.” I say, bending down to hug them. “I see you’ve stolen my boyfriend.”
“Don’t you think he looks pretty?” Katherine asks, motioning towards Matt.
“I think he looks gorgeous.” I say, making eye contact with Matt, who chuckles softly.
“We were going to paint his nails, do you wanna help?” Charlotte asks.
“Of course!” I say, eagerly.
“Yay!” Both girls say in unison.
Sitting down, we begin painting Matt’s nails a bright shade of pink, complete with princess stickers on every other finger. When we were finished, we slowly walk Matt over to the mirror to check out his new look.
“I look awesome!” Matt says, bending down to the girls level. “Thank you, girls.” He opens his arms for a hug, as both girls practically tackle him.
I smile softly, my heart warming at the sight.
“I think next time, we should bring our princess dress for you to wear.” Katherine says.
Matt laughs. “I think that would be amazing.”
“Yeah, but we have to bring the Cinderella dress.” Charlotte says. Katherine raises a puzzled eyebrow. “To match his eyes, duh!”
“What do you think, Y/n?” Charlotte asks.
“I think he would make a beautiful Cinderella.” I smile, causing Matt and the girls to laugh.
A loud voice interrupts our laughter from the kitchen.
“Girls, dinner!” I hear my Uncle call.
“Our dad wants us!” Katherine tells Matt. “But we’ll finish this makeover another day.”
“I’ll be counting on it.” Matt winks, ruffling her hair.
The girls laugh as they run down the hall to the kitchen. I look at Matt, who’s covered in glitter from the feather boa.
“I’ll be their Cinderalla, as long as I’m your Prince Charming.” Matt says, pulling the boa off.
I laugh. “God, you’re cheesy.” I grab his hands, looking at the pink artwork on his fingernails. “I can’t wait to have this life with you one day.”
He pulls me into a hug, covering me in glitter. “I promise, one day, we’ll have all of this.” He says. “Every day.”
I lean back, grabbing one of the braided strands of hair. “I’m really digging these braids, though.”
“Yeah?” Matt laughs.
“Yeah.” I smile, pressing a small kiss on his lips.
“Now c’mon, I’m starving!” I say, leading him to the kitchen.
Matt stops on his tracks. “What, dressed like this?” He asks.
I smirk. “What, you embarrassed?”
“Never.” He replies, putting his boa back on before we exit the playroom.
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cleolinda · 5 months
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I’ve read a few of the umpteen thousand upset comments about the paid Watcher service, and I’ve read comments angry about the upset comments. There’s one thing I want to point out, and it’s that this isn’t, or shouldn’t be, “You’re saying people don’t deserve to earn money for their work.”
The Watcher guys do deserve to earn money. I already give them money. I give them $5 a month on Patreon, not because I think they do or don’t give me $5 worth of media, but because I want to support them. I canceled Netflix for pissing me off with its price hike/ad tier, but I give Watcher Entertainment money.
They’re saying now that the Patreon will be solely about the podcasts, and they understand if people leave. I’m perfectly happy to switch the support I can afford to the streaming service. With the early adopter 30% discount, I’d actually save money. In fact, I tried to subscribe, but the site didn’t work.
Watcher wanting to profit from their shows isn’t the problem. It’s that they’re now discovering that their fanbase is young and broke in a terrible economy, judging by tens of thousands of comments on multiple platforms. I can throw them $5/month, so I do. But the Patreon only has (checks notes) 5874 paying followers, and there’s a reason for that. $60/year upfront would not be “accessible.” Patreon is literally patronage from the people who can afford it.
If the guys had said up front, “ONLY new shows and episodes will be exclusive to the service,” I think we’d be having a different conversation right now. But at first they did say, “We’re pulling all our content from YouTube,” to the point where Variety had to issue an update. Like, that’s in print and I’m pretty sure it was on video. Now they’ve backtracked to ONLY new etc.—but most people haven’t heard, and they feel crushed. And the trust is probably gone regardless.
So now four years of back catalogue will stay public. And now, you’re paying $6.99 a month for one episode, maybe two, of something a week, and now, not an exclusive back catalogue. I would pay for Watcher shows before I’d pay for anyone else, but I just don’t think the company is big enough yet for a SVOD at that price. They’re not Dropout size. They needed to build more programming and get a higher follower count first, or at the very least, charge less.
The international price/exchange rate situation is a nightmare and I don’t know what it is they’re not doing to make it… not… be like that.
I don’t know what they should have done instead of a full streaming service, but surely there were alternatives? I’ve seen comments from people suggesting they GET a Patreon. Lean on that more! Do the shows exclusive for a month and then let them roll onto YouTube! I don’t know! Anything but One More Fucking Streaming Service, which enraged me, and I was willing to move my support to it!
And I shouldn’t say this, but I will. In the “Goodbye YouTube” video the guys posted, they say that setting up the streaming service has allowed Steven to do a remake of Worth It where he and his cohosts travel the world and eat expensive food. This is the first new show they announce. Not “We have always been committed to diversity and we’re now able to bring on new creator(s) to expand our programming.” No, a redo of an old show that by definition has got to be expensive. Commenters are saying they can’t pay for the streaming service because they can’t make ends meet in this economy. The optics are terrible. I genuinely question what the thought process even was here.
I love the guys and I still watch their shows. I want to see Watcher succeed. I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved in 2018 while recovering from surgery—as with a lot of people, their shows got me through a tough time. I’m as attached as anyone. If I can continue to afford monthly support—this is not a certainty—I’ll give it to them. I’m not a ~hater who doesn’t want Watcher to make money. But I am absolutely BAFFLED by every single decision here. I want them to figure out how to turn this around and go in a better direction, because right now, this ain’t it.
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hellfirenacht · 4 months
Text
Wing Man Part 10
Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.
Chapter Summary: It’s no longer Halloween, but the ghosts from yours and Eddie’s pasts are coming back to haunt you.
5.7 Words
(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)
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You had always heard the phrase “speak of the Devil and he shall appear”, but you didn’t think that line was supposed to be so literal.
You and Eddie starred in shock as your shared connection stood in front of the two of you, smiling at Eddie as if he were an old friend. If Chris noticed any animosity in your faces, it didn’t show. Either he was oblivious, or you and Eddie were good at hiding what you two were feeling right now. 
“I thought I saw you in the lobby earlier.” Chris said, walking over to the two of you, ruining your moment together. “I didn’t think you were one for the theater since you never did come and see the Spring play that I worked so hard on.”
Eddie looked weirded out by this, to say the least. 
“Sorry, I was busy trying to finish the campaign that you started.” Eddie said. “I didn’t exactly have time to go.” 
Well, you were really in the middle of this now. You shifted slightly closer to Eddie, looking over Chris. He was almost unrecognizable from his school photos and how you remembered him on that day. No longer the pale and scrawny kid with the constantly pissy face, Chris was actually smiling and it was honestly off-putting. He looked more tan than he had in school, but there was a faint orange tint to his skin that looked unnatural under the yellow lighting of the marquis. 
A fake tan. That’s what it had to be. Chris was sporting a fake tan for his role as Rocky. 
You should have been Riff Raff. Or not here at all. You thought to yourself. 
“Are you still mad that I left Hellfire?” Chris asked. “That was four years ago! Plus, I handed everything over to you, didn’t I? You got to finally be the Dungeon Master, and I got to find something I enjoyed. I think it’s a fair trade.” 
Eddie still didn’t seem impressed, but kept his mouth shut. Chris turned his attention to you. 
“I’ve seen you before.” he said. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”
You blinked in surprise. There’s no way you would have missed him if he came to this show a lot, right? 
“Yeah, how did you know?” you asked slowly. 
“I’ve been running tech for the show since March.” Chris had a smug look on his face that made your stomach churn. If he was working backstage, that would make sense why you hadn’t seen him before. “And I got to be Rocky for this run. What did you all think of the show?”
“The movie was fun.” Eddie offered, and you had the feeling that he was trying to decide if he should be honest or to let go of what happened four years ago. 
You, however, were more willing to be honest in the moment. “I’ve seen better performances.” you said bluntly. “The movie was fine, but I expected more for the Halloween showing. Half of the shadow cast was completely different than before and they didn’t seem to know their cues. Also, what happened to the Virgin Sacrifice?”
Instead of being off-put, Chris just laughed and shrugged. “There’s been some recent changes to the theater management.” he explained. “It caused a bit of a commotion and there were some disagreements. Unfortunately, things like this happen in live theater. A lot of the cast bailed on the show at the last minute.”
That made sense, as much as it disappointed you. If there was an internal problem with the company running the show, it would end up bleeding out into the performance. You felt your annoyance calm down a little. It’s not like Chis was the one to run the show into the ground. 
“Well, It’s been nice seeing you again.” Eddie said, as his hand slipped into yours again, “We have to get going, it’s getting late.”
You gave Chris a half-hearted wave and a goodbye, but then Chris started talking again right as you two were turning around to leave.
“Just so you know, auditions will be opening for the shadow cast.” He said. “We’re skipping the next two months to get the show back on track. In case either of you are interested.”
You froze in place for a moment and Eddie noticed and dropped your hand. You turned around to look at Chris, wondering if he was being serious right now. 
“Auditions are never open. Even for the understudies.” you said. “I heard that you needed to know someone on the inside to even have a chance at auditioning.”
“Well, we know each other now, don’t we?” he asked with a smile that had too many teeth for your comfort. “I can get you an audition, if you’re really interested. I think you’d be great on stage.” Chris was looking at you up and down, as if considering you. “I can see you as a great Janet.”
“I’ve always wanted to audition.” you finally admitted. “I’ve been wanting to be a part of this show since I started coming here.”
Chris dug into his bag and pulled out a card for the theater, and scribbled down a date and time on the back. “This is when we’re holding auditions. It’s invite only.” he said. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you’re serious.” 
You took the card, looking it over. Maybe you and Eddie had been a little hard on the guy. Chris was right, it had been a long time since he was in high school, and people change. You changed. It’d be pretty hypocritical of you to brush this off completely. Everyone here was an adult, right? And this was something you’d wanted for years now. Could you really just pass this up?
“I’ll be there.” you said, without thinking, and when Chris offered his hand, you reached out and shook it. “Thank you.” you added. 
Chris winked at you and said goodbye to Eddie and turned to leave, leaving you and your date alone outside the theater. By now, almost all of the movie-goers had left and the parking lot was nearly empty save for a few cars. 
“Holy shit.” you said, turning to Eddie when Chris was out of earshot. “I did not expect to run into him tonight. Or ever again.”
Eddie let out a small sharp breath that could have either been a laugh or a sigh. “I thought he just disappeared off the face of the earth when he graduated.” His eyes drifted to the card you held in your hand; the same hand that he had been holding on and off all night. “His hair grew out a lot.”
“Yeah, I think it’s even longer than yours now.” You agreed, tucking away the card into your own bag and turning to fully face him again now.
The mood between you two had shifted from what it had been before Chris interrupted the two of you. Whatever moment the two of you were about to have had passed, and as much as you wanted to kiss Eddie, it wasn’t the time. You didn’t want to force anything after the moment had been ruined. 
Dammit, Chris. Why couldn’t he have shown up before the movie started? Okay, maybe you were still able to feel pissed at the guy. 
“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Eddie said, and this time you reached out for his hand instead. Chris might have cockblocked your first kiss with Eddie, but you weren’t going to let him completely ruin the night. You didn’t miss the slight squeeze of his hand as you led him towards your car. 
“I know I totally trashed the performance, but I did have a lot of fun with you tonight.” you told Eddie. “Other than him showing up, I really did like spending time with you.”
“Next date, it’s gonna be just us.” he said. “No chaperones and no Chris-es.”
“So, you want to go on another date with me?” you asked, thinking that maybe the moment wasn’t as ruined as you had thought. 
“I’ll call you this weekend.” Eddie promised. 
He leaned in, and you closed your eyes. Warm lips brushed against your cheek, and you tried not to feel too disappointed. It was still something, after all. The two of you hugged, and you breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes, leather, and popcorn. 
“Not if I call you first.” you said, finding that line was starting to be a small inside joke between the two of you. You hoped that there’d be a lot more shared jokes together in the future. 
You got in your car, and made your way home. Despite the small hiccup, you were starting to feel more confident about the future. Things were going well with Eddie, and you finally had the chance to do something you’d had your heart set on for years now. 
Moving forward wasn’t so bad. 
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Eddie was torn on how tonight went. You had fun, and you said that you had fun with him. He had been ready to lean in and plant one on you to make this feel more official but then Chris just had to show up and ruin the night. As usual. 
It might not have been as bad if he hadn’t started talking about auditions and that was what made Eddie’s stomach twist. You had been mentioned enough times that this was something you had always wanted to do, and Eddie admired that a lot. He loved that you wanted to be on stage like that, and if you were in the cast he was sure that he’d show up for you, just as you had been showing up for Corroded Coffin. 
But Chris had been the one to make the offer to you with his new muscles and hair that was longer than Eddie’s. Eddie didn’t want to feel jealous, and most of him felt like the two of you had bonded enough over talking shit about the guy that there was no way you’d had an interest in him. 
So why did a smaller voice in the back of Eddie’s head feel like this was starting to crumble already? You had talked about changing and being different since you had been in school, and Chris looked different and had pointed out that he had graduated almost four years ago. 
“You aren’t at Hawkins High and these aren’t children.” you had said when he had been taking in the site of so many people who looked and dressed more like him.
You hadn’t meant anything by it, Eddie was sure of that. You didn’t seem like the type to put someone down for what they were or weren’t able to accomplish. That still didn’t change the fact that he was a 20 year old still in high school, while you and Chris were out in the real world working and living on your own. Presumably. Eddie didn’t know where Chris was living and didn’t care to. 
It was pretty late in the evening now, and he found himself wishing he could call Ronnie right now. Actually, he was starting to wish that he had talked to her earlier, had listened to her and taken her more seriously a few years ago. 
Three more stupid credits and I’m out. That’s what he’d told himself since September when he walked into school for his sixth year in high school. He could coast through most of his classes, and he just needed to push through until June. 
1986. That was going to be his year. He just needed to get through the rest of 1985 first. 
Just as Eddie was about to go and crash in his bed the phone rang. You were the only one who would be calling him this late, and the knot in his stomach only tightened. You hadn’t been judgemental to his face about his education (or lack there-of) but what if it did matter? 
He didn’t think you’d just up and drop him because Chris Morrison of all people showed up with his stupid long hair, offering you something that you wanted so badly. Right? Then again, Eddie hadn’t exactly been the best at communicating with you at all, and he had disappeared on you more than once without notice. Chris hadn’t hesitated with giving you a way to contact him.
Expecting the worst, Eddie tried to remain calm as he reached the kitchen.
“Hey.” Eddie said into the phone, “Get home safe?”
“Eddie?” 
That voice wasn’t yours. The last time Eddie heard that voice, Eddie had been covered in blood and soot in Police Chief Hopper’s office. Her voice had echoed so loud that Hopper had even flinched as she cursed him out for ruining a chance for both of them. 
“Paige?” Eddie asked in disbelief, as if he were talking to a ghost. 
For fuck’s sake, Eddie this isn’t something we can just reschedule I know this was your shot this was my shot I stuck my neck out for you I know I’m at the police station What did you do? No room for a little tarnish, huh? Don’t be an asshole I’ve been an asshole all along, I’m just the last person in Hawkins to accept it Fuck you. 
“I’ve tried calling you a few times but you weren’t home.” Paige said. 
“You could have left a message.” Eddie’s voice was colder than he meant it. First Chris, and now Paige. What sick prank was the universe playing on him today? 
“I figured you wouldn’t call back if I did.” Paige said, honestly. 
The clock in the kitchen read that it was late in Hawkins and not quite as late in California, assuming that is where Paige was. He wanted to hang up the phone, leave her on a dead end line, just as she had done to him almost two years ago. 
Don’t be an asshole. He told himself. What had happened between the two of them had been the perfect shit storm of events. Eddie had flown, reached out towards the sun, only to crash and burn. He had been reminded of what it really meant to have Munson attached to his name.
Eddie had been the one to fuck up, not Paige. 
“I probably wouldn’t have.” Eddie admitted. 
“Are you going to hang up on me now?” 
Eddie paused. “No.”
“Good.”
“You know it’s... really late.”
“I know. I probably should have called you in the morning but I thought it was worth a shot calling tonight. Besides, it’s not like you have school in the morning.” 
He didn’t, but that was only because he was planning on skipping tomorrow because he’d been out so late tonight. 
Eddie’s mind went through a rolodex of anything that Paige Warner would want to talk to him about after all this time. Was she wanting to finally know how he ended up in holding? Had her brother told her about how he was now Freak King Supreme in Hawkins? Shit, did he have an estranged child with her that he didn’t know about? They had always used protection but shit happens and who could blame her from hiding a kid from a guy who she had to bail out of jail and had no money- 
“I’m sorry.” Paige said. “For how things ended between the two of us. A lot happened after you called and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after.”
Eddie blinked and stared at the faded wallpaper of the kitchen, trying to make sense of the apology. She was apologizing? Why?
“I....” Eddie swallowed. “I think I should be the one apologizing here.”
“Oh, you definitely owe me an apology, too.” Despite her words, there was no bite behind it, no malice. “But I’m offering up my apology first as an olive branch.” 
How come ever since that night at the Palace Arcade, everything had started being so weird for Eddie? 
“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Eddie asked as he rubbed his face, the evening was starting to catch up to him now. 
“For blowing up at you at 4 am when you needed help.” Paige said. 
“It’s.. It’s fine. I deserved it.” Eddie leaned against the refrigerator and slid down. His gaze drifted up to the popcorn ceiling of the trailer’s kitchen, picking out constellations in the flaky white plaster. 
“Maybe, but I should have heard you out after I had cooled off.” Paige said. 
“So, you’re calling me in the middle of the night two years later just so we can talk about what happened?” Eddie asked. 
“Not completely. I’m calling because I want to give you a second chance.”
“Uhhh.....” Had Eddie heard that correctly? 
“A lot happened with WR Records after you bailed on the audition.” Paige continued. “I don’t want to go into details over the phone, but the short version is Corroded Coffin might have another shot.” 
Oh, it can get weirder. 
“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie sat up straight, gripping the phone with a grip so tight his knuckles were turning white. 
“I’m coming back to Hawkins for a few weeks. I’ll be landing in a few days, and I want to meet up with you to give you more information.” 
Corroded Coffin might have a second chance. Not just Eddie, but his band. When Paige had managed to get Eddie the original audition, she had said that only he would be the one to go to L.A. to play for all the suits in the business. They were only interested in Eddie, not Corroded Coffin. Eddie was real. 
“You mean, my whole band?” he clarified. “Not just me?” 
“Don’t get too excited.” Paige said firmly. “This isn’t nearly as nice of an opportunity as last time. But it is an opportunity. I want to meet up with you alone first to go over the details and explain what’s going on.” 
“Why just me?” 
“Because you’re the selling point, Eddie. You always were.” 
Real. I saw it that night at the Hideout. I saw it years ago at the stupid talent show. You get up there and whatever you play, it’s raw. It’s life or death. And people can feel it.
Had you felt it? Eddie thought back to the two times you had shown up to see him play, you’d looked up at him with an excitement that he’d only ever seen from the rest of his band. Eddie could count on his hands the number of people who he could say were fans of his. Paige had been the first to look at him like he was someone while he was on stage, but she wasn’t the last. 
“When do you land?” Eddie asked. 
“Early Saturday, but I’m spending time with my family for the next few days.” she said. “I’ll call you and let you know when we can meet up.”
“Yeah.. yeah alright. Sounds good.” 
Did it?
“Alright, I’ll talk to you later Eddie. Good night.” 
“Hey, Paige?”
“Yes?”
“...Thanks. For bailing me out back then. I don’t think they would have released me if you hadn’t.” 
“Just don’t do that again, ok?” Paige said. “And you can give me a proper apology when we meet up.” 
Eddie nodded, and then realized he was on the phone and she couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll be there.” he said. 
The dial tone wasn’t as aggressive as it had been that day in Hoppers office, and this time Eddie didn’t slam the phone down on the receiver. Instead he opened up the fridge, stared hard at the six pack of beer, closed the fridge without grabbing one, and went back to his room. He kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his clothes, and fell face first onto his bed. 
Eddie tried to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours, replaying the events of the night over and over and over again like a bad movie. Seeing you, watching the movie, almost kissing you, Chris showing up, Paige showing up. How could so much happen in the span of less than three hours? 
Paige wanted to talk to him about Corroded Coffin. Eddie was the selling point. There was no way that WR Records was still interested in him, if they were she would have said so and not even brought up the rest of his band.
Shit, what would the rest of the band even say? Only Jeff had been around for the original demo recording that they had all done together. Dougie had left after that year, Ronnie passed her position off to Gareth. 
Face stuffed into his stained pillowcase, he started creating a list of unanswered questions. Why was Paige showing up now? Why was she reaching out to him? Why is she giving Corroded Coffin another shot? Why did Chris have to show up tonight? Could you be attracted to Chris now that he had long hair and wasn’t the scrawny asshole he was in high school? Why did Dustin suggest him to hook you up with? Why did you agree? Why did he care so much that you didn’t remember him? Why did Steve also keep showing up? Why didn’t he kiss you? Wait, did Paige still want to kiss him? Okay, that one at least had to be a no. 
Eddie gave up on sleep when his uncle came home, and heard the faint snoring coming from the pull out couch in the main room. 
With sleep no longer an option for him for the time being, Eddie dug out his notebooks and instead focused on the mountain of song lyrics and notes from over the past few years. With his guitar slung over his shoulder and unplugged, he would be able to work without disturbing Wayne’s sleep. 
Each silent chord and tab that Eddie played whispered through his bedroom. He mouthed along to the words on the pages, his voice occasionally slipping through the cracks as he figured out the rhythm of the lyrics. Playing guitar cleared his head, music always brought everything to the surface one way or another, even if he didn’t realize it. 
As he focused on a specific riff, his fingers and wrist moved over and over in a constant rhythm. Even when he messed up, he didn’t stop the movements of his fingers as they slid along the strings. It was easy, it was challenging, it was meditative. Eddie could finally focus. 
Paige Warner wanted to see him again to discuss Corroded Coffin. Paige was an ex. Sort of. It had been implied that they were going to make it official when he moved to California with her. They were even going to move in together, even if they would have separate rooms. Roommates who sleep together. 
Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t just up and admit that she was an ex girlfriend. Business or not, Eddie was going to have dinner with an ex. 
If he were still the same shitty 18 year old from two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought it was a big deal. Eddie would have had no problem going to see her, and it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to tell you. But now, as a less shitty 20 year old, he couldn’t do that. You deserved to know who he was going to see if the two of you were going to go on another date. 
He was also going to have to come clean about a lot more than that if things became more serious. That was something that Eddie was dreading. If he told you about Paige, he’d have to tell you about their history together. Telling you that he and Paige had slept together was easy, but what about the rest? How could he explain that she bailed him out of jail after he’d been arrested because a cop was shot on his lawn after two drug mules had burned his house down because Munson and Junior had stolen five pounds of weed from a reefer truck?
Eddie had only told the whole story to one person, and that was Reefer Rick. He hadn’t even had the heart to tell Wayne everything that had happened that Spring out of shame for everything that he’d done. Even Ronnie had been kept in the dark about what happened. 
The sun slowly came up, and his guitar and notebooks were bathed in a warm golden light that contrasted the chill of the beginning of November. Eddie hung his guitar back up and gathered his notebooks, setting them aside for a later time. He laid back down on the bed, and closed his eyes. He decided that the next time the two of you talked, he would be honest about who Paige was and what their main history was. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to dump all of his family trauma on you at once when things were only just starting out. 
It was kind of funny. Eddie had never set out to be anyone's boyfriend. It had never been a priority with him. Even with Paige, he had definitely found her attractive but aside from seeking her out to ask for her help with getting signed, she had been the one to make any move for anything more to happen. He’d been fine with that at the time, but after spending time with you... 
This wouldn’t be easy, but he told himself he wasn’t going to run anymore. When he woke up, he’d call you and tell you exactly what was going on and who he was going to see. Anything about his police record could wait for now. 
With that thought in mind, Eddie was able to finally pass out. 
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It was well into the afternoon when Eddie finally woke up again. He pushed through the grogginess and showered, dressed, and shoved a can of instant pasta into his mouth as he flipped through the limited channels on tv. 
About two hours went by before he remembered that you had today off. You’d mentioned that to him during one of your many long phone calls, and he about smacked himself in the head when he realized it. He’d been sitting around and waiting for you to get off work, and you hadn’t even gone in today. 
Eddie held the phone in his hand, his fingers hovering over the dial pad hesitantly before forcing himself to push the digits that would connect the two of you again. 
You answered on the third ring. 
“No Hellfire today?” you asked. 
“Not this time, everyone bailed out early for fall break.” Eddie said. “We did our Halloween special yesterday.”
“Tell me about it?” 
Eddie felt himself nearly melting into a pile of goo at the words. You always asked about his campaigns and his band, taking an interest in a way that no one ever had before. There was a lot that he had to tell you, but.. He could at least give you this before he gave you the real reason why he called. 
You listened as he told you about how the party went up against a pumpkin creature that had been attacking the town. It was a module he had made himself, and that he’d been working on for the past month between the main story of the campaign. You laughed and gasped at all the right moments, sealing the idea that Eddie was going to make a one-shot for you specifically to play. He couldn’t wait to help you make a character and add you to his table. 
Assuming you would even want anything to do with him after what he was about to tell you.
“Sounds like a Scooby Doo episode.” you said, as he finished his tale. 
“More like Goober and the Ghost Chasers.” Eddie smiled, taking his usual seat in front of the fridge. 
The two of you talked, and it was far too easy to get lost in all of the conversations that he had with you. Every time he told himself to suck it up and tell you who he was planning on seeing, you’d ask him something and the two of you would be off on another tangent. 
But then Eddie found his opening, and it was time to talk. 
“I’ll be at the Hideout again next week.” you said. “I’m really looking forward to hearing that song you keep hinting at. How many original songs are you hiding from me?” 
“We have almost seven by now, but no one wants to hear them.” Eddie lied, knowing full well there had been at least one person before who did. 
“I want to.” 
Two people. 
Fuck, he needed to tell you. 
“So... speaking of Corroded Coffin,” he said carefully. “We actually almost had a chance to audition for WR Records.”
“Hole shit.” you gasped into the phone. “What happened? I would have thought any record company would be tearing down the door to get you to sign with them. Or, oh, were they too mainstream? Did they want you to sell out? Change everything about you? Did you tell them to shove it, and that you wanted to make real music?” 
Eddie couldn’t help but snort into the phone, suppressing a laugh. “Nah, we uh... well we made a demo tape and sent it in, and they wanted us- me. They wanted me to audition.”
“Just you...?”
“Yeah.” Eddie picked at a loose fray in the tear in his jeans. “They didn’t really like Corroded Coffin, but they did like me. But I blew my chance, and never made it to the audition.”
“Shit, Eddie... that sucks.” you said sympathetically. “What happened?” 
Eddie was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain to you what happened.
“Eddie?” you asked after he didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to get into it.”
“I fucked up.” He finally admitted. “I did something stupid, and it stopped me from making it to California for the audition. That was two years ago. And last night I just got news that Corroded Coffin might be having another shot at something.”
“Wait really? That’s incredible that they still want to talk to you! And you said it was for the whole band this time? Not just you?”
“I don’t think it’s WR Records this time but a talent scout found me and is wanting to talk about Corroded Coffin?”
“There was a talent scout at the Hideout?”
“No.... my uh.. My ex.” 
The silence between the two of you was deafening. For a few seconds, the world went completely still, and silent. Eddie always hated silence. 
“Oh.” you said after a while, and Eddie could tell you were trying to process what he had just said. “So your ex wants to talk to you about your band?”
Your voice sounded neutral, almost too casual, and Eddie hated that too. “She- Paige- she was the one to give Corroded Coffin a chance. She paid for the demo herself, sent it to her boss, and got the audition slot for me. But I fucked up, ended up locked up for a few hours, and everything fell apart.”
Eddie wished that he could see your face, would you look at him with sympathy? Disgust? Would you suddenly look at him like everyone else in town? 
“That sounds like a lot.” You said. 
“Not gonna ask me what I was in for?” 
“Do you want to tell me?”
“...Not yet.”
“Are you on some sort of list?”
“No.”
“Did you kill someone?” 
“I don’t think I’d be let out if I did.”
“Good point. Alright. Then I’ll trust you that you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
Trust. You trusted him. When was the last time he had anyones trust?
“Paige wants to give Corroded Coffin another chance.” Eddie said. “She wants me to meet up with her to give me details. I don’t know what she’s planning on offering but-”
“She bailed you out of jail and is offering you something you always wanted?” You asked, and he could hear something in your voice that sounded almost like defeat. “You should go. It’s clear that the two of you have a history that you two need to work though. And if she’s offering you and Corroded Coffin a chance, you have to take it, right?”
The way you said ‘right’ made him wonder if you were asking something more than just his current situation. 
Why was it that every time you two started to find your footing together, things slipped up? How could things constantly be so weird with you when this should have felt easy? What force in the universe out there kept dangling good things in front of Eddie just to take them away as a cruel joke? 
“Right.” Eddie said, sounding just about as sure as he felt about this. He didn’t even know what this was. 
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it sounds like it’s complicated and you two need to talk about it.” you said. “Just let me know what’s going on after, okay?” 
Eddie knew what you really meant. Let me know if this is going anywhere or if you’re going to get back with your ex.
That was a thought he didn’t even want to entertain. It already seemed to be impossible that Paige wanted to talk to him again, let alone date again. 
“I will.” He would. “I’ll let you know when we’re meeting up and what she says.” 
“I have my audition next Saturday.” you added. “And Robin and Steve and I are going to have a movie night later this week to hang out. But, I’ll still be at the Hideout if you all are still playing and not signed by then.”
You were joking with him, and he took that as a sign that maybe he didn’t completely fuck up.
“We’ll be there.” Eddie said. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday then.”
“See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 
With the phone hook back on the receiver, Eddie took a deep breath. 
Just when things are starting to get good, huh?
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a/n:
Dividers By: @strangergraphics
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dira333 · 5 months
Text
The World’s most (un)serious Game of Chicken - Hanamaki x Reader
Hanamaki has never been serious a day in his life. Lots of crack and luff and Seijoh Golden Four.
Warning: Over 6k words. My hand slipped.
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Kindergarten - 5 years old
Yasuda, known for her large forehead and rich parents, points her finger at her newest enemy. 
“Hanamaki is ugly,” she declares. “No one can touch him or they are ugly too!”
You’re pretty sure she’s just envious of the fact that his mother gave him a Squishmallow to bring along, and it’s a rare one too.
The other kids draw away. Hanamaki’s looking a little confused, but he’s not crying. You’re pretty sure you’d cry. 
Yasuda grins. It’s an ugly thing, that grin, and it makes you want to punch her in the face. But then you’d get sent in time-out again.
Besides, your mother told you to “kill them with kindness” this morning, whatever that means.
Before you can rethink your strategy, you take a step forward. 
Yasuda’s eyes widen at your challenge.
But it’s too late. You’re throwing yourself at Hanamaki who’s luckily catching you. He smells like bubblegum.
“Now I’m ugly too!” You declare before turning around with fire in your veins, your determined eyes catching Yasuda’s. You can see the fear in them.
“Run!”
-
“Hey,” Hanamaki waits outside, Squishmallow in his hands.
“Hey,” you say, wiping the snot from your nose and into your skirt. You hate that you cry all the time, especially in front of the teacher who just scolded you. It’s not your fault Yasuda tripped when you ran after her.
“Thank you,” he says, voice earnest, “For that. You know.”
You sniff and shrug at the same time. “It’s nothing. I don’t like Yasuda. She’s nasty.”
He grins wide, revealing a missing tooth.
“Me too.” He offers the Squishmallow to you. “Friends?”
“You can’t buy me,” you tell him, the sentence grown-up and unfamiliar in your mouth. You heard it last week on Mom’s TV show. But you take the Squishmallow anyway. “Thanks.”
“Takahiro,” a breathless voice calls out. You both turn to his mother rushing down the street. She stops, catches her breath, and smiles down at you.
“Aww, did you give her your Squishmallow? Is she your friend?”
The two of you share a look. Kindergarten is hell already, you can’t have rumors like that going around.
“Nah!” You declare loudly, “Boys are nasty. This is blackmail.”
And before she can say anything, you rush back inside, determined to hide until they’re both gone.
-
Elementary school - 6 years old
The boy is tall, with dark curls hiding his tired-looking eyes.
“Yes?” You ask, annoyed that he’s blocking the sunlight streaming in.
“This is Hanamaki’s place.”
“So?” You push the lollipop in your mouth to the other side. “What’s it to you?”
“Hanamaki said I could sit with him at lunch.”
You sniff, clearly unimpressed.
And as if he’d heard it, Hanamaki appears in the doorway.
“Matsukawa, you made it.” He grins, clapping a hand on the boy’s shoulder as he slides into his seat. “What’d you get for lunch?” Hanamaki asks you without skipping a beat, already lifting the lid of your Bento Box. “Sausages, nice. Do you want to switch? I’ve got egg rolls.”
“Is this your friend?” Matsukawa asks, obvious interest sneaking into his voice.
Hanamki snorts. “No? She’s my mortal enemy.”
“Yeah,” you agree immediately. “Watch out for the rice. It’s laced with cy-cy-”
“Cyanide,” Matsukawa offers, pulling a chair closer. “I want the rice then. I’m offering tomatoes.”
Elementary school - 9 years old
“So, what did Yamagata want?” Hanamaki asks when you join them.
“He asked me out on a date.” You pick a tomato from Matsukawa’s Bento and chew on it as if you don’t care about it at all.
Hanamaki’s eyes are wide and round as he takes you in, his mouth open yet he seems to be speechless. Which is a first.
“You okay?” Matsukawa asks and for a second you’re not sure who he’s taking to, you or Hanamaki. 
“That means you’re grown up,” Hanamaki whispers finally. “Like, a grown-up grown-up. Did you say yes?”
“No?” You ask back. “Yamagata is disgusting. He eats his snot.”
“You do that too,” Matsukawa points out.
“I stopped last year,” you point out, chopsticks raised for emphasis. “But if you think Yamagata is such a catch, you can date him if you want, huh?”
“No thank you,” Matsukawa waves his hands, “I’m waiting for Yoshida-chan.”
Yoshida-chan, your very lovely though also very old teacher, lifts her head from where she’d been reading at the desk and smiles in your direction, clearly not clued in on the joke.
You all smile and wave back, snickering quietly when she turns back to her book.
“But if you want to date,” Matsukawa points out, an eggroll perfectly placed between his chopsticks as he points, “You two can just date each other.”
“Yuck!” You both spit out at the same time and Matsukawa rolls his eyes.
-
Elementary school - 12 years old
You’re not the only girl waiting outside the gym. 
Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa have started playing Volleyball and you’re seriously considering taking it up next year as well. They make you train with them anyway in their free time and it sucks to either have to wait for them or go home alone. Baseball is only half as fun without them there.
“You think he’s going to say yes?” One of the girls in a group near you asks her friends. She’s pretty and you think she might be from one of the top classes. 
“Of Course! Hanamaki would be dumb to say no.”
You turn a little at the mention of his name but it’s too late to do anything about it anyway when the doors open and the boys step out. 
“Hanamaki, hi!” Pretty Girl all but dances over to where he’s walking toward you, stopping him in his tracks.
Matsukawa immediately realizes what’s about to go down, you can tell by the face he makes, but he doesn’t walk off, just stands there, stiff as a board, looming over Pretty Girl’s face.
“Uh, could you… walk away?” She asks and you hide your snicker behind your hand. 
“Why?”
“Because… I was… uh… going to ask… Hanamaki… something?”
“So?”
“Hanamaki?” She’s determined, you have to admit that, turning back to him, “Could we talk in private for a second?”
To your surprise, both of the boys turn to where you’re waiting, looking at you as if waiting for a clue. It’s annoying as hell.
“What?” You ask, pointedly raising your hand to check your nails as if there’s anything to check but the dirt hiding under them. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”
-
Matsukawa waits next to you, quiet like a stone. 
You want to know what she’s saying. Not that you don’t know what she’s saying, but you want to know what words she’s using. Hanamaki still can’t help but snicker every time someone mentions the L-Word like a little kid.
You don’t have to wait long.
Her face tells you everything you need to know as she slips into the group of her friends. 
Hanamaki looks like nothing happened at all and you turn to leave with him, satisfied in a way you can’t properly explain.
“Is she-” A voice raises as you move and the three of you turn back again. It’s not Pretty Girl but one of her equally pretty friends. “Is she your girlfriend?” She nods in your direction.
You pull a face before Hanamaki can react.
“Ew. I’m his cousin.”
-
Matsukawa lives one street down from Hanamaki and you live one street further down, right at the river.
Today, he doesn’t stop at his place like he usually does, kicking a pebble down the street as if to tell you to keep walking.
“What did she say?” You ask eventually when the silence gets too loud.
“She told me I’m pretty.”
You snort. 
“What?” He asks, laughter audible in his voice. “I’m pretty.”
“In your dreams,” you tell him and he’s full-on laughing now, both of you howling out a “He’s ugly!” as if Yasuda’s torment happened days ago instead of years.
Eventually, he kicks the pebble over to you to keep going and you follow suit, still snickering.
“I’d never have said yes,” he tells you, halfway caught between a snicker and something else, “Her lips looked like she put glitter glue on.”
“That’s lipgloss,” you explain, “It probably tastes like fruit.”
“I like fruit,” he says earnestly. “Do you have lipgloss like that?”
“No,” you lie and you don’t know why but your heart beats fast like a humminbird.
“Shame,” he sighs and you’re not sure if he means it. “Tell me when that changes.”
-
Junior High - 13 years old
“Your name’s going to be Makki,” Oikawa declares with the air of someone who rarely gets told off. “And your name’s going to be Mattsun.” 
You push your lollipop to the side and narrow your eyes at him.
“Why?”
“Because it sounds cooler.”
“Shittykawa,” you offer, “Sounds way cooler.”
Iwaizumi next to him snickers and Oikawa turns to him with a pout. 
“Iwa-chan!” He whines. 
“Iwa-chan!” You repeat after him, expertly copying his whiny tone. Everyone laughs.
“You’re friends?” Oikawa asks just minutes later, still pondering on what nickname to give you. He points at you, then Mattsun, then Makki.
You roll your eyes.
“Mortal enemies,” you declare. “We’re bound until we kill each other. This is just our latest reanimation.”
“Oh, cool, like in that anime?” Oikawa asks immediately, eyes glowing.
You snort. Hanamaki leans over you, pushing your head into his sweaty armpit. You fight to get him off. Mattsun changes the topic.
-
“Hey,” Iwaizumi asks right as you part after class, “Do you want to become a manager?” 
You blink, surprised that he asked you. He’s pretty shy around girls even if you don’t act like one most of the time. 
“Didn’t think about that,” you tell him honestly, “I was going to try out for the girl's team first.”
“Oh, sure.” He starts to stutter, turning away. “Good luck.”
Makki looks after him, mouthing an exaggerated “Good luck” your way. 
You roll your eyes.
-
“Do you think I should become a manager?” You ask as soon as Mattsun is out of sight.
Makki kicks a pebble over to you and you kick it back.
“I dunno, we didn’t have a manager in Elementary School,” he remembers. “Isn’t that job kinda boring?”
“Sure, but we could be in the same team, kinda.”
He nods slowly. Then, he grins. “You would have to wipe away my sweat.”
“Ugh, no!” You whine. “Gross!”
“Fetch me my water bottle, manager-chan!” He orders in the most conceited voice he can muster. “Hush hush, we have a game to win.”
“You’re impossible,” you tell him, pushing him off when he leans into you with all his weight. “You can get your own water bottles, loser.”
It’s only when his door comes into sight that he sobers up again, turning back to you.
“What do you think of Oikawa and Iwaizumi?” Makki asks, voice suddenly serious. It’s the first time he’s ever asked you something like that. You doubt he would have cared if you didn’t like Mattsun back then. Or would he?
“They’re okay,” you declare. “Oikawa is a little conceited if you ask me, but I guess Iwaizumi keeps him in check. Iwaizumi could be cool if we get him a little out of his shell, maybe? He’s so serious.”
Makki nods slowly. 
“And lookwise?”
You furrow your brows. “Don’t ask me something like that, you know I don’t have any taste. We’ll see if the girls like them when it’s time, right? They liked you too and you look horrendous.”
“He’s ugly,” he crows softly and you roll your eyes, try to trip him and fail spectacularly.
-
Junior High - 14 years old
“I don’t want to be the referee again,” you declare pointedly when you join the boys at the riverbank, golden sunlight streaming over the area that has probably seen more Volleyball training sessions than your school gym. But who’s counting?
“Fine,” Oikawa huffs, yet again the one who decides everything. You roll your eyes behind his back. “You can be libero.”
“Oh yes, I’m saving your asses. Again.” You drawl out, smacking Makki’s butt as you pass by. He wiggles it again for good measure and Iwaizumi’s face turns red.
-
Half an hour later a group of boys joins you at the riverbank. You don’t know their faces, but Oikawa greets them eagerly. Not like friends, but friendly acquaintances.
“Who’s girlfriend is that?” One of them asks, pointing at you. 
You scowl, but Makki’s faster than you.
“This, my esteemed gentleman, is my bodyguard,” he declares loudly. “It’s her job to keep me from getting killed, which is rather unfortunate.”
“Most of his death threats come from her,” Mattsun adds dryly. “Watch out, she bites.”
-
“Hey,” Makki’s leaning against the doorway of your bedroom, staring out your window at the riverbank below. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you groan into your pillow, wishing he’d leave. It’s one thing getting your period in a friendly mixed match. It’s another thing if you bleed through your pants so spectacularly one of the boys on the other team has to puke at the sight.
“You can leave,” you tell him when he’s still not moving minutes later.
But when you hear his footsteps, they come closer. Before you can look up and glare at him, he drops, his body almost crushing yours.
You yelp, but he’s too heavy, too much arms and legs and everything else and trying to fight him off turns into a tickle-fight instead. He begs for mercy minutes later, claiming he’ll pee on your bed if you don’t set him free.
“You suck,” you tell him as you stretch out next to him, looking up at the ceiling of your bedroom, all the glow-in-the-dark stars that you claim you will take down soon.
“You suck more,” he answers softly, falling silent for a while. It’s comfortable, being like this, just Makki and you, and no one else to judge it.
“You wanna go back out and kick their asses?” Makki asks eventually and you nod, slipping off your bed before he can push you off.
-
Junior High - 15 years old
“Interesting,” Mattsun watches Oikawa’s fanclub with the most bored look on his face, “Collective loss of good judgment. That’s rare.”
“Ah, there are still some good ones left,” you tell him, “Ishikawa from my Volleyball Club has a crush on you, by the way.”
“Oh?” Mattsun asks, turning. “Which one?”
“First year, pinch server, the one with the pixie cut.”
He ponders that for a moment before he shakes his head. “I don’t like short hair on girls.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re superficial.”
“What do you like?” Mattsun asks, a weird kind of grin on his face. And you know all his grins by now, or so you thought. “In boys, I mean?”
You furrow your brows. “How would I know? There’s no boy I like.”
Mattsun scoffs disbelievingly.
“What?” You ask, hackles rising.
A warm arm slings itself around your hips and a head lands heavy on your shoulder. 
“What are you talking about?” Makki asks, smacking his bubblegum into your ear.
“What kind of boys she’s into,” Mattsun points out. 
“Oh, I wanna hear that,” Oikawa fights himself free from his groupies and shuffles over, pulling Iwaizumi with him. “Because I have a feeling they have to be tall, good looking and into Volleyball.”
You roll your eyes, unsure if the heartbeat you feel in your chest is your own or Makki’s from how closely he’s pressed against you. It’s annoying, and you hate annoying things.
“Actually,” you tell them as pointedly as you can, “I like them small. Tiny, even. Really ugly too, because that adds character. It’s best if they’re practically disfigured.”
“But they have to be into Volleyball?” Iwaizumi asks, a small smile dancing over his lips. 
You shrug, almost managing to push Makki’s head off your shoulders. 
“Hobbies are Hobbies. He could be into knitting for all I care.”
“Ah well, that’s good to know,” Makki sings, “Because I saw a guy exactly like that. I could set you guys up.”
“You would do that?” You mock gasp, pressing your hands against your chest. “For your mortal enemy?”
“Anything for you,” he declares, pressing a fake tear from his eyes while the rest of the group turns away, no longer interested.
-
“By the way,” Makki tells you as he follows you down the road, Mattsun’s house growing smaller and smaller behind you, “Itoh-chan asked me out today.”
“Oh?” You look over. “When did that happen?”
“Ah, while you and Mattsun were discussing what kind of boys you like,” he grins cheekily.
“You mean while I was telling him that Ishikawa has a crush on him?”
“She does? What a shame, she’d really be his type if she had longer hair.”
“What do you guys have with hair?” You ask, a little exasperated. You don’t really expect him to pull on yours, but you’re not surprised when he does it either.
Makki stops in front of his house but he’s not going inside and you’re not leaving either.
“Don’t you wanna know what I told her?” He asks and his voice dares you to say yes.
“Not really. I’m gonna find out eventually.”
“I said no,” he shrugs, “Because she was talking about kissing me and I didn’t want to have my first kiss with someone who chews bubblegum like a horse.”
You roll your eyes.
“You’re superficial.”
“Maybe.”
Silence.
“Do you wanna practice?” You ask.
He looks at you, no sign of a joke in his eyes when he speaks.
“With or without lipgloss?” You realize that he knew what you meant when you asked, just like he’s always known what you thought before you said it out loud.
“What do you think?” You ask, moving one leg first and then the other. He falls into step next to you.
“What flavors are you offering?”
“Uh, I have one that’s supposed to be cherry flavored, but it tastes more like bubblegum.”
“I like bubblegum.”
“I know.”
His lips are dry and a little chapped, his hands clammy as they hold yours.
Kissing isn’t all that it’s made out to be, you decide unanimously a few minutes later and head down to the riverbank with a Volleyball instead.
-
High school - 16 years old
“Hey, we’re staying behind after training,” Makki tells you in between Classes, “Oikawa has this idea he wants to try out. Are you coming over to watch?”
“Sure,” you tell him, “Can’t have you walk home alone. You’d end up in Tokyo or something worse in the end.”
“What would I do without you?” He asks, exaggerating his theatrics as he dips back out of the classroom.
“Boyfriend?” The girl next to you asks curiously.
“Mortal enemy,” you declare and she furrows her brows and falls silent.
-
“Hey, we have training today,” you pull a lollipop from your jacket and pop it into your mouth, pulling a second one out when Mattsun stretches out his hand, asking wordlessly for one.
“Are you waiting for me?”
“What time are you going to be out?” Makki asks only half-listening as he copies Mattsun’s notes from the lesson. History is his weakest subject.
You calculate and name it and he nods.
“Yeah, sure, we can stay in the library until then and do our homework, right?” He turns to Mattsun who rolls his eyes.
“You don’t have to wait around if you don’t want to,” you tell him and Mattsun’s eyes roll even harder. 
You can’t help but snicker at it, knocking one last time against Makki’s desk when the bell rings, calling you back to your own Class.
“Alright, see you later guys.”
“Girlfriend?” One of the guys to their left asks, leaning over. “She’s pretty.”
“Mortal enemy,” Makki declares proudly, finally looking up from his notes. “I’d be careful. She bites.”
-
“No, no, this goes here,” you pull his hand from the paper before he can put the wrong number in yet again. “We’re not talking about the Edo period yet!”
“How do I know?” Makki grumbles, kicking his feet in the air behind him. “This shit sucks.”
“You wanna do something else?” You ask, not in the least bit minding a break. “Mattsun’s not coming over for another hour.”
“If ever,” Makki mumbles lowly and you look to the side just in time to watch insecurity flash over his face.
“You think he’s going to ditch you for a girlfriend?”
“Isn’t that how it always goes?” He asks, writing the wrong date in the space in front of him. You don’t care to correct him.
“We wouldn’t be like that,” you point out, not quite sure in what way you mean it.
“No,” he agrees easily. “We wouldn’t.”
“Mattsun’s not like that,” you assure him, putting your hand over his. “Shittykawa maybe, but not Mattsun.”
He stills for a second, eyes flickering over to yours. You can tell that he’s thinking about something, but you’re not yet sure what it is.
“Wanna try again?” He asks, voice low and quiet, his eyes flickering to your lips.
Not much history is studied that afternoon.
-
High school - 17 years old
It’s one of those rare days when you’re not coming home with Makki and Mattsun, dragging your tired body from the train station down the road.
You’ve cried more than enough already, yet your tears water again when Makki’s house comes into sight.
If only you hadn’t dropped that ball at that moment, had been a little faster that one time…
You know your mom’s waiting at home, food not quite ready yet, waiting to hear about the game.
But you can’t… you can’t…
The key is where it always is, hidden beneath the little wooden Tanuki at the front door.
The way up the stairs is so familiar you could do it in your sleep.
You slip into his bed and pull the covers over your head, smelling bubblegum and deodorant and a faint hint of sweat. It smells like Makki and you close your eyes, wishing you could shut out the tears just as easily as the light.
“Hey…” a warm hand on your shoulder wakes you. “You okay?”
You shake your head and he nods, slipping into bed with you. 
“Do you want to continue Volleyball after High School?” Makki asks, arms slung around you. He’s like a monkey like that and you often wonder how he sleeps during training weeks. Does he sling himself around Mattsun or a pillow, does he dream of you or not?
“Not really, you?”
“Mhm, no. Winning is fun, but all that training would suck ass…”
You agree quietly, just a little noise in the back of your throat.
“So if you’re not going to continue playing anyway, it’s not that big of a deal, right?” He asks, “Just another blip in your life.”
“It’s not just another blip.”
“Remember how you bled so much you made a random guy puke?”
“Makki!” You howl, even louder when he bites into your shoulder.
But the pain soon subsides, turns into laughter that you can’t hold back.
“His face,” you remember, “He looked like he was going to pass out.”
“He’s ugly,” Makki howls and you press his hand, understanding finally why he keeps bringing up that joke.
Sometimes it’s best to laugh at your demons. They might not get smaller that way, but at least you have something to laugh at.
-
High school - 18 years
“Hanamaki-kun, I wanted to ask for your second button, oh…” The bright-eyed first-year stops in her tracks. The button is already missing.
She blushes a scarlet red, stuttering as she excuses herself.
“I don’t believe you,” Mattsun huffs, “You didn’t just wake up today, missing that button.”
“But I did,” Makki claims, “I swear, I’d never lie to you.”
“You always lie to me.”
“Name one time I lied to you.”
“When you told me your natural hair color was purple but it faded out over the summer.”
“Well, that’s on you, Mattsun. I can’t help you if you believe that of all things.”
“What did he believe this time?” You ask, walking over.
“Purple hair,” Makki points at his head. You scoff at Mattsun.
“I was six years old, okay?” He defends himself. “By the way, did you notice that Makki’s button is missing?” He points and you look. 
“Nice,” you high-five Makki, “Who did you give it to.”
“I didn’t. Lost it at night. Some nightmare gremlin must have cut it off.”
“For real? Probably your mother who wants to curse you to stay home forever.”
“No, Mummy wouldn’t do such a thing.” He leans into you, trying to make you sway under his weight. It hasn’t worked in years but he keeps trying.
“How many buttons did you get?” Mattsun asks. “I saw Yamagata confessing to you in the hallway earlier.”
You pull a face.
“I don’t care if he’s no longer eating his snot, I’m not accepting a confession from him.”
“Why’s that?” Mattsun’s voice is saccharine sweet now and you narrow your eyes at him. You know what he wants to hear, but you’ve always been one to deny the things others want from you. Makki’s weight on you isn’t helping.
“If I say I don’t like someone, I’m not changing my mind on that.” You declare. Makki’s snickering above you, probably because he’s close to finally making you sway. You bite his bicep but he’s not moving away. 
Mattsun rolls his eyes so hard it looks like he’s passing out.
-
College - 20 years
Your legs are flung over Makki’s and you’re so close to beating him when the door opens.
“Suck on that!” You yell as you swerve over the finish line, hitting his shoulder with your fist.
“Gladly,” he jokes, already choosing the next road as you look up.
“Oh, hi!” You wave at the guy standing in the doorway. “Are you looking for Mattsun? He’s in his room.”
“He said there’s a party going on tonight?” The guy asks. You try to place him, but your brain is failing you. He doesn’t look like he went to Seijoh, but Makki’s always been better at remembering faces. 
“Yeah, for sure.” Makki declares. “Just a little later. You’re early. You can get yourself something to drink from the kitchen.”
“Cool.” He nods, walking over. He’s back in minutes, leaning over the backrest to watch, sipping whatever concoction he’s poured himself. “You two a thing?”
You don’t look up, too focused on beating Makki. You hate the rainbow road.
“Roommates,” Makki explains, his leg twitching under yours.
“Mortal enemies,” you declare, sticking out your tongue as you drift and push Makki off the road.
“Cool.” Couch-Guy leans in even further. “I’m Terushima by the way.”
-
Terushima finds you in the kitchen hours later. His eyes are glassy as he smiles at you and you wonder how many drinks he’s had.
You wouldn’t call yourself sober either, but you’d been so obsessed with beating Makki that you’re way behind on the others, 
“What do you think?” Terushima flutters his eyelashes at you. “You and me? I could show you a good time.”
You swallow down a snort. He looks like he’s barely able to stand.
“Tell you what.” You point at your room down the hall. “Go lie down, I’m gonna be with you in a minute.”
“Awesome.”
You watch him stumble down the hall, how the door closes after him with a click. Seconds later Makki is leaning into you. He smells like bubblegum and the most disgusting brand of Tequila you’ve ever tasted.
“What are you doing?” He asks, snagging one side of the sandwich you’d been preparing. 
“I sent the baby to bed.”
He snorts and you can feel his chin graze our shoulder as he peers over into the living room.
You steal a quick glance yourself. Some girl is trying her best in flirting with Mattsun who’s deep in an explanation about something that probably no one’s interested in.
The others are either drinking, singing, or snoring on the Couch and the floor.
Makki’s lips ghost over your bare shoulder.
“You’re sleeping in my room?” He asks, voice quiet as if anyone but you could hear him.
“Where else? My bed is already occupied.”
He pinches your hip, but he doesn’t move away, leaning heavy and warm against your back. You can feel his heartbeat like that, sluggish and slow and so well-known your heart beats in sync.
-
Work - 22 years
You’re sitting on Makki’s lap, or rather, in between his legs, playing on your phone as you wait for your stop.
There’s an older woman across from you who’s giving you the stink eye, but you don’t really care. It’s late, you’re both tired, and she can suck it.
“What do you want for dinner?” Makki asks, his head resting on top of yours.
“Rice.”
“We had rice yesterday.”
“Ramen?”
“Ugh.”
“You don’t have to cook if you don’t want to.”
He falls quiet.
You let him, knowing damn well that he’s going to say it when he’s ready for it.
He pulls you up at your stop, links his hand with yours as you walk out.
It’s so not him, you’re almost worried. At least until he stops right at the corner, pulling a coin out of his pocket.
There’s a gumball machine there, one that sells cheap jewelry next to the cheap sweats.
He puts the coin in, twists and pulls a little ball out, presenting it to you.
“You shouldn’t have,” you tease, pulling the ball apart. It’s a ring, the metal bendable to fit every size. The design is even worse, a gaudy heart, but you don’t care, pull his hand up and slip it on his finger.
“Will you marry me?” You whisper as dramatically as you can and something flickers over his face, gone and away before you can catch it. He laughs, softly, and leans forward to kiss your temple.
“Oh, aren’t you a sweet couple?”
You turn, surprised to see an older lady standing behind you, squinting up at you in the fading daylight.
“Actually,” Makki starts. You can’t help but finish.
“We’re siblings.” You tell her. “Separated at birth. We just found out.”
Her eyes widen.
“What lovely news!” She chokes out, clearly confused.
You nod and bow and move away, pulling Makki with you as you rush down the stairs, suddenly no longer tired.
-
“They cut my hours,” he tells you later. 
You’re stretched out on his bed, trying to convince yourself to get up again and do his workout routine with him. But the bed is comfy and you’re tired.
“How much?” You ask.
“Might not be able to pay rent this month.”
“I’ll cover it,” you offer. His mouth pulls into a thin line.
“Seriously,” you pull yourself up until you’re sitting. “I’ll cover it. You pay for my food all the time anyway. I could move in here with you and we open up my room for someone else. It’s no big deal.”
He still looks… unsure. Insecure. Like he’s not sure what to say or what to feel.
“I’m your bodyguard,” you remind him, “Remember? How am I supposed to protect you when you sleep in a different room anyway?”
-
Mattsun looks like he wants to say something. Scratch that. He looks like he wants to say a lot.
“Another roommate?” He asks. 
“Yeah.” You nod. “You know, it makes sense, I should have thought about it sooner. As his bodyguard-”
“Mortal enemy.”
“And mortal enemy, thank you, Makki,” you pat his hand like one would do with a child. “It’s my job to protect him. I have neglected that for far too long. I’m moving into his room. Going to keep an eye on him at all times.”
Mattsun sighs.
“You can’t just say it? That you’re a couple?”
Makki gasps. You fake gag.
“We’re like siblings, Mattsun!” Makki claims. “Please keep your incestuous tendencies to yourself.”
“Ship someone else, will you?” You ask and he groans, pinches his nose, and shakes his head.
“Whatever. I’m not… You’re going to be the death of me. You can go and find us a third roommate for all I care… By the way, Makki, are we still on for Friday?”
-
Work - 24 years
“I think Ishikawa still has a crush on him,” you whisper into Makki’s ear. You have no interest whatsoever in the movie playing and neither does he, if the hand rubbing messages into your thigh is any indication.
“She still has that pixie cut,” he reminds you.
“Yeah, but it suits her now.” You point out and he shakes his head from side to side as if he’s thinking about it.
“Could you guys stop talking?” Mattsun growls from where he’s sitting. Ishikawa is sitting close enough that her hair must be tickling his nose. If only he’d put his arm around her.
“Excuse me, but we’re having a serious discussion,” Makki claims, picking a piece of popcorn and throwing it in the air. “Catch.” 
It misses your mouth by a mile, landing somewhere behind you on the floor. 
“Shit, again.” He picks another piece.
By the time the bowl is empty, Ishikawa and Mattsun are gone. You blink. The floor is covered in popcorn pieces and the movie has been over for quite some time if the flickering ad is telling you anything.
Makki picks up his phone from the table and squints at it.
“Mattsun took Ishikawa out for drinks.”
“Score.” You push him off the Couch. “Now come on, let’s get the vacuum.”
“Why do I have to?” He moans but gets up from the floor. “By the way, your hair looks pretty today.”
“What?” You look up from your own phone, your mind still halfway stuck in that email you just received.
“I said your hair looks shitty. What are you reading?”
“Apparently I got a promotion. Look.” You hand him your phone, pouring over the text together. 
“Wow, shit, you’re going to earn so much more money,” he says, pulling you closer with his free hand. “How do you wanna celebrate?”
“I dunno, you decide.” You blink up at him. “I could treat you to that fancy hot pot place you mentioned last time.”
“Nah,” he shakes his head. “That’s stupid. What do you wanna do?”
“Well, it’s my money and I’m your bodyguard and I need to make sure you’re well-fed. So I guess Hot Pot it is.”
“You sure about that?” He follows you down the hallway to the closet where you keep the vacuum cleaner.
“Absolutely. What else would I do with my money? Buy you a diamond ring? Wait, do you want a diamond ring?”
“Please,” he huffs, “I only take Platin, you should know my style.”
-
Work - 26 years
“Oooh, look.” Makki pulls at Mattsun’s sleeve, dragging him to the left. “What do you think?”
Mattsun blinks. In front of him, behind thick glass, is a tray full of rings. Engagement rings.
“What do I think about what?”
“The rings, doofus. You’ve been dating Ishikawa for what, two years now?”
“1 year and eight months, okay. I’m nowhere near sure I’m going to marry her.”
“Still,” Makki pulls him through the door. “It’s good to do research. Thorough research.”
Mattsun rolls his eyes, digging his elbow into his friend's shoulder and navigating him to the left. 
“Silver is less expensive.”
“Oi, since when are you a cheapskate?”
“Since gold turned expensive.”
They spend twenty minutes pouring over the options.
Mattsun has to admit, there are some pieces there that he wants to take a picture of, but he doesn’t, because it would be weird.
He watches his friend from the side, the way he takes in each ring.
It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, if this is a joke or serious.
-
“So, when are you going to ask her?” He asks when they step outside again.
“Who?”
“You know who.”
“What am I asking?”
“If they marry you.”
“Why would I ask that?”
Mattsun groans in exasperation.
“Do you seriously find this funny? After all those years? Do you never just want to tell her that you love her or that she’s pretty or tell some weird dude that hits on her that she’s yours?”
“Oh, is that what you say to Ishikawa?” Makki asks, hands pushed into the pockets of his jacket.
“Yeah,” Mattsun says, “That’s what I tell her. Every day, if possible. Because it’s something she needs to hear. Because it’s true.”
Makki falters. He rubs the tip of his shoe over the asphalt under him, searching for a pebble to kick around.
“I don’t think she’d want to hear it. She’s not like… She’s not like Ishikawa, in that way. If she was, she’d tell me. She would have told me, you know.”
Mattsun sighs.
“Sorry. It’s your thing how you do it. If you’re both happy with it, continue being weird. It’s just hard to understand sometimes. But love you guys, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, you sap, I do.” Makki grins back at him. 
His eyes fall to the watch above them and they widen.
“Shit, I’m late for work.”
-
“Hey,” Makki’s back way too early.
“Hey,” he mumbles, slipping into the chair next to you. “When did you get home?”
“An hour ago. Got all the Argentinian stuff for the match next month. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair, away from you, yet his hands reach out. You take his left and press it.
“You sure?” You ask.
He nods.
Silence falls over you. It’s hard to continue typing with only your left hand, but you’re not willing to let go of his.
Eventually, he opens his eyes again.
“I got fired today.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah.”
Another beat of Silence.
“You wanna take a holiday?” You ask, closing your notebook for a moment to look at him. “We could drive to the beach for a weekend.”
“I wanted to buy you a ring.”
“Mhm,” you reach out and rub your thumb over his cheek. “Already bought me one. How many rings do you think I need?”
“How many fingers do you have?”
You wait for him to continue, but he falls silent again.
“Did you want to keep working there?” You ask. He shakes his head. “So if you didn’t want to keep working there, it’s not that big of a deal, right?” You ask, hoping he remembers a similar conversation when the roles were reversed. “Just another blip in your life.”
“It’s not just another blip.” He says and you can see some light returning to his eyes.
“Mhm,” you say, “Remember when Yasuda called you ugly in kindergarten?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles.
“I always thought you were very pretty.” He stills, his eyes flickering over your face.
“Really?”
“Really. Also, I love you.”
He grins. “I knew it. Called it when you tried to pee on me in elementary school.”
“I’m your bodyguard,” you remind him, “Your mortal enemy. Now, do you wanna go to the beach for the weekend or do you wanna stay in bed all day and play Mario Kart?”
Makki takes his sweet time to decide.
“Can we do both?” He asks eventually. “Play Mario Kart at the Beach?”
“So demanding,” you joke, leaning forward to kiss him.
-
There’s a ring packed in your things when you leave the city for the weekend. 
It’s not Platin and not silver either, bought at the gumball machine with a few coins. 
It will do for now.
“I could be your Navigator,” Makki offers as he looks up routes on his phone. “How much are you paying per hour?”
“Ah, not enough to be able to afford you,” you joke easily. “But I am looking for a housewife.”
“No way,” he gasps, eyes widening. “That’s exactly the job I was looking for. I make a fantastic sandwich.”
“Hired,” you offer him your hand. He takes it.
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Tagging: @darthferbert @alienaiver @marti-mp4 @lemurzsquad @ @sachirobabe
my Kofi if you want to tip me
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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months
Note
hiii not sure if you’re still taking requests but
no upside down au where teen single dad steve approaches eddie after hellfire bc every parenting stuff keeps mentioning how reading to babies is super important for their development but his dyslexia makes reading so hard let alone be expressive w it too and the kids keep mentioning how eddie is amazing on dnd. eddie is skeptical cause how come no ones has heard of king steve’s one year old ? but he accepts when steve offers paying but after seeing steve w his baby and understanding how he changed he refuses the money and cue them slowly falling in love and becoming a family <333
Sorry this took *checks watch* like 9 months to finish! I kinda took some creative turns, but it's done!
read on ao3
rated t | 5,182 words | no cw | tags: mostly fluff, single parent steve, not canon compliant, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions
📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚
Early August 1985
“Steve, it’s not like he’s gonna fuckin’ bite, dude,” Dustin said from the passenger seat.
“Language.”
“She’s not even awake,” Dustin whisper yelled. “I promise he’s cool. The worst he’ll say is no. It’s not like he’s gonna bully you.”
“No one else knows I’m asking him this, right?” Steve was suddenly worried that all the kids knew about Steve’s learning disability and they’d think he was actually stupid and-
“No, it’s just me. But if you don’t hurry up and go in before everyone else gets here, they’ll find out.”
Steve glanced in the backseat, smiling to himself at his sleeping daughter. She’d been out for nearly the entire drive from his house to Dustin’s to the high school, so she’d probably be waking up within the next 20 minutes and she’d be ready to stretch her legs.
She was a squirmy thing from the moment she figured out how to scoot around the floor, and it only got worse when she learned to walk at 11 months. The only time she was still and staying out of trouble was when she was asleep.
“If she starts crying, just sit back there with her. She just likes having company,” Steve reminded him as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
“Yep. I’ve literally babysat for you before. I can handle her for 5 minutes.”
“Attitude.” Steve shook his head and opened the door, getting out and only closing the door most of the way so it wouldn’t wake her up.
Eddie always showed up 30 minutes early for Hellfire Club to set up according to Dustin. He took this club very seriously, even as a third year senior. He kept it running all summer so that incoming freshmen would have time to get acquainted with his style of DMing or whatever.
Steve respected the dedication, though he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that dedication were put into his homework, he would’ve graduated in May with Steve.
But Steve couldn’t actually judge. Not with the fact that he was pretty close to not graduating himself. He had a pretty good reason, but still.
The auditorium door closed loudly behind him, making him jump and clench his jaw painfully.
“Door’s broken. You gotta hold it while it closes so it doesn’t slam,” a voice said from the door to the backstage area.
Steve squinted through the semi-darkness and felt his stomach turn. Eddie.
“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had to open it. Figured they would have fixed it by now,” Steve replied, walking closer to the guy he needed to talk to.
“No shit! Is that King Steve? In the flesh?” Eddie’s dramatics were endearing, even if it was slightly annoying that he pulled out the stupid high school nickname he’d lost well before he graduated.
“Yeah,” Steve sighed. This wasn’t gonna go well.
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but none of your precious kiddos have made it yet. It’s still early.”
Steve nodded. “One of them’s sitting in my car in the parking lot. Um, Henderson? He’s an incoming freshman.”
“Ah. Dustin’s got a place in Hellfire if you’re worried. I don’t turn anyone away who wants to be here.”
“No, no, that’s not it.” Steve needed to just spit it out. “He said you’re like, great at storytelling or whatever. Like you’re the best DM he’s ever seen and he knows I could use those skills for something.”
“Oh? What could Steve Harrington need DM skills for?”
“My daughter.”
The silence following his confession was louder than the door slamming only a minute ago.
He probably could’ve revealed his motives a little better, work up to the fact that he even had a daughter maybe. Very few people actually knew, and he had to keep it that way until he could leave his parent’s house.
“Your…daughter.”
“Yes. She’s just turned one and the doctors said reading to her is like, super important for learning words and helping her learn how to have an imagination and stuff. And I do read to her!” Steve suddenly felt worried that Eddie would think he was a bad parent. “I try to. But I’m, well, Nancy says it’s dyslexia? So words are kinda hard and it gives me a headache if I try to read for more than a few minutes and I’m so busy focusing on the words I don’t think I’m making it very fun for her-“
“Woah. Steve. Slow down.” Eddie braced his hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t even know you had a daughter. Does anyone know you have a daughter?”
“The kids do, yeah. My parents do because they kinda helped cover it all up and made sure I still graduated so I didn’t embarrass them or whatever.” Steve looked down at the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t really want to go through the whole thing with this guy. “Robin Buckley knows? She’s my best friend. The Byers and Wheelers, Hopper. Some teachers know but were sworn to secrecy.”
“Huh.”
Steve looked up to see Eddie stepping closer to him, soft smile on his face.
“So what do you need me for exactly?”
“Dustin said you’re really good at telling stories and I figured maybe you would be willing to read to her? Not every day, like I can work with your schedule or whatever. Evening would be best for me, but it’s not really a big deal if it has to be other times. She comes to work with me so if it had to be during the day, you could sit in the office or something, I dunno.” Steve shrugged. He hated asking for help. But Dustin insisted Eddie was actually a good guy and would keep his secret. No one who saw her at work assumed Steve Harrington was a single parent at 18. That would just be absurd. “I just don’t want her to miss out.”
Eddie’s hand drifted down his arm, holding his hand for a moment before he stepped back.
“My schedule is kinda random. But I’m sure we can work something out.”
Steve’s shoulders fell as his body relaxed. “Yeah? I can pay you. Not much. My parents mostly cut me off.” Steve was scrambling. “I can give you gas money and stuff for having to come to us. And like, food? I can cook.”
Eddie’s eyes were intense, watching his every move, making him nervous.
“How ‘bout a free trial? I’ll do it for a couple weeks and then we can see about payment.”
Steve nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah. Cool.” Jesus, he was embarrassing. What happened to his charm? “Would you be able to start soon?”
“Normally, I’d say I can come by after Hellfire, but I have an…appointment right after tonight. I can come by tomorrow?”
Steve smiled. “Tomorrow’s good. I work until five.”
“I can be at your house by seven.”
“Great! I have plenty of books. Right now, she’s really into Old Macdonald, but I think it’s just because it sorta sounds like her name and we get to make silly noises,” Steve smiled to himself, not seeing the way Eddie was smiling too. “I think she’ll probably like whatever you read to her, though.”
“What’s her name?”
“Mackenzie. Robin read it in a book and said it meant fire-born or something? It sounded cool. We call her Mac or Kenzie for short so she hears Macdonald and thinks we’re giving her another nickname,” Steve laughed. “Anyway, I better get back to the car. If she’s awake and Dustin has to deal with her crying for too long, he gets an attitude.”
“Mackenzie. I like it.” Eddie nodded once. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”
Steve agreed and waved, turning around to leave. By the time he realized Eddie’s nickname for him, Eddie was already backstage.
****
Steve was nervous.
He nearly burnt the chicken he was cooking for dinner just from getting distracted by thoughts of Eddie being in his home.
He didn’t even know why. Maybe it was the fact that he’d always thought Eddie was kinda rough around the edges and was surprised he’d agreed so easily. Maybe it was bringing someone new into the small group he’d had around for a couple years. Maybe it was the way Eddie’s hand on his shoulder seemed to leave a permanent mark despite being one of the softest touches he’d felt from another adult in a while.
Mackenzie was in her high chair already, eating some of the noodles he’d made as a side. She’d been practicing using a fork, so quite a few had fallen on the floor, but Steve still smiled and told her she did a great job any time she managed to get one to her mouth.
The doorbell rang and Steve felt his heart stop.
“Daddy!” Mackenzie squealed when the bell rang. She knew that usually meant Hopper was here. Everyone else just came inside on their own. “Hop!”
“No, baby, not Hop. Not tonight. It’s my friend, Eddie. He’s gonna tell you a fun story, okay?” Steve ran his hands through her hair as he walked by to get the door.
When he opened the door, Eddie was standing there with a handful of books, a box of crayons, and what looked like a hairbow.
“I’m here to entertain the princess!” Eddie exclaimed. “Lead me to her highness!”
Steve couldn’t hide the grin on his face if he wanted to. “She’s currently trying to stab noodles to death. I’m sure you’ll be entertained.”
“Ah, they must have wronged her. I’ll assist,” Eddie made his way past Steve, walking towards the kitchen.
Steve knew he’d been to a couple of the parties he threw to sell, but had no idea he remembered the layout of his house. Maybe he had one of those picture minds.
As Steve entered the kitchen, he noticed that Eddie had set down the pile of books on the counter before he sat down in front of Mackenzie.
There were a few books he recognized: an ABC book that he was pretty sure he’d had when he was a kid but had since lost, a book of fairy tales with Rapunzel on the cover, something by Beatrix Potter, and a couple of coloring books that featured princesses and dragons and horses.
“She isn’t really old enough to color, is she?” Steve asked, interrupting what must have been a very amusing conversation of mostly babbling. “I don’t have any coloring stuff.”
“Coloring with skill? No. She definitely doesn’t have the motor skills to color in the lines or even use the right colors for the right things. But it does help her learn how to hold a crayon. My uncle couldn’t really afford much when I was a baby, so for every Christmas until I was in school he would get me new crayons and coloring books. I don’t really remember how I did, but I do remember having fun.” Eddie turned back to Mackenzie. “And sometimes it’s fun to just make a mess, right?”
Mackenzie clapped her hands together, sending the toddler fork she’d been using to the floor with a noodle attached to it. Steve wordlessly grabbed one of her spoons from the drawer and gave it to her, kissing the top of her head before he knelt down to pick up the fork.
Eddie watched silently, something soft about the way he didn’t interrupt anything even though he could’ve kept talking.
“I made chicken and pasta. It’s probably not my best work, but I made enough for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” Steve offered as he walked to the stove to start plating the food for himself.
“I wouldn’t turn it down. Wayne’s not exactly known for serving five star meals,” Eddie joked. “He believes in the power of fried bologna and cheese sandwiches with a bag of chips.”
Steve grimaced. “Okay, well I made enough for you to bring home some leftovers too.”
“You don’t have to-”
“You’re taking home leftovers.”
Steve turned to see Eddie’s widened eyes and open mouth that slowly formed into a smile.
“I guess I’m taking home some leftovers.” He turned to Mackenzie and tickled her neck. “Your daddy is pushy isn’t he?”
Steve blushed, but continued making up a plate for Eddie.
As they sat and ate, Eddie talked about all of his favorite books for little kids, and how he remembered sneaking into the library after school for years because he knew he didn’t wanna go home. He talked about the first time a teacher wrote a positive letter home, an English teacher who said his fictional essay was the best in the class and he should consider writing as a career. He even talked about his plans for the school year campaigns, but made Steve swear not to mention anything to the kids.
“I’ll know if you tell them,” Eddie winked.
Steve believed him.
When they were done, Steve grabbed Mackenzie from her chair.
“I’m gonna give her a quick bath if you wanna bring all that stuff to her room. Second floor, third door on the right. It’s a little messy right now. Someone decided to pull all her toys from her box yesterday and I haven’t had time to clean it up,” Steve tickled Mackenzie’s side, making her giggle and turn her head into his shoulder.
“You need me to clean this up?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the table.
“Nah, I’ll do it while you read to her.”
Despite his efforts, bath time was never truly quick. Mackenzie loved to splash around and play with her toys, and if he tried to wash her hair too quickly, she would be grumpy for the rest of the night. He definitely didn’t want that for Eddie.
He set a timer for 10 minutes and tried to explain to a very excited Mackenzie that when the timer went off, it would be time to wash her hair and get out.
“You wanna have time to play with Eddie, so we can’t play for too long in the water.”
She didn’t seem to pay any attention to him, already too busy making her rubber duck fight with her mermaid Barbie.
He observed while she played, bringing in the rubber car she liked to pretend to drive on the side of the tub.
When the timer went off, she let him wash her hair without a fuss, and he quickly wrapped her up in a towel to get her into pajamas.
Eddie was waiting in her room when he got there, coloring books spread out on the floor. He smiled up at them from where he sat, legs crossed, hands in his lap.
“Squeaky clean?” He asked, waving at Mackenzie.
“Definitely lacking noodles in places noodles shouldn’t be at least,” Steve said, making his way to her changing table to get her dressed. “She must be pretty excited about you being here. Usually bath time takes at least 30 minutes and I have to bribe her with chocolate milk to get out.”
“She knows we’re gonna have a lot of fun. I think I’m gonna read Goodnight Moon first. That’s one of my favorites.”
“She’ll love that,” he said as he buttoned the snaps of her onesie.
As soon as he set her on the floor next to Eddie, she reached for a coloring book with a mermaid on it.
“Daddy! Muh!”
“Yeah, baby, it’s a mermaid! Just like your doll in the bath.” Steve pointed to the fish next to the mermaid. “And that’s a fish. Fish swim in the ocean.”
He felt Eddie’s eyes on him while he pointed to some other sea creatures and told Mackenzie what they were.
Eventually, he looked over at Eddie, blushing at the soft smile on his face. “What?”
“You’re a really good dad, Steve.”
“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Steve felt heat flood his body.
It’s not that no one had ever said that to him. Robin had told him plenty of times, Joyce had whispered it to him when no one else was paying attention, even Hopper had given him a handshake and said he was doing a good job once. But hearing it from Eddie, in this situation, when he’d been feeling like such a failure lately, was enough to make him want to cry.
He had to get out of this room.
“I should go clean up and leave you to it.”
“Sure, yeah. We’ll be right here.”
Steve booked it out of the room, rushing down the stairs to try to get busy with cleaning before his brain settled on crying over a compliment.
But the table was cleared. The high chair was wiped down. When he turned to the sink, the dishes were stacked up to dry in the rack. The counters were wiped, the dish towel had been put back on the handle of the oven to dry, and leftovers had been put in a container to finish cooling down.
Steve let the tears fall.
Fuck it, if Eddie was going to be this nice, he could have a little cry.
He walked quietly to the bathroom to put all the bath toys in the basket, but stopped outside Mackenzie’s bedroom when he heard giggling.
He’d closed the door halfway, just so she wouldn’t get too distracted if he walked by the room, but he couldn’t help looking in.
He felt like crying again when he saw Mackenzie sitting on Eddie’s lap, pointing at something in the book.
“Where’s the moon?” Eddie asked.
“Moo!” Mackenzie said, smacking at a place in the book.
“There’s the moon! Good job, little one.” Mackenzie leaned back against Eddie’s chest. “And where’s the…toys?”
She pointed again, but slightly less enthusiastically. Steve could see her energy dropping quickly.
He watched as Eddie told her she did a good job again and then continued reading.
Her eyes drooped more with every page. Eddie’s voice got closer to a whisper with every sentence.
Steve fell just a little bit more with every second that passed.
*****
October 1985
Eddie came every day. Despite the fact that Steve insisted he didn’t need to, that he didn’t want to ruin his schedule, Eddie showed up like clockwork at seven every single evening.
Steve learned to expect him, always made enough dinner for all of them to enjoy before Mackenzie had her bath and then got to read with Steve.
Every night, Eddie would clean up while she took a bath, and every night, he’d let her pick a page to color while he read something to her, switching to a bedtime story when she started crawling into his lap.
Steve would watch them often, laying down on the carpet and smiling as he listened to Eddie use different voices for characters, asking her questions so she was involved, and whispering when she started to drift off.
Other times, he’d try to get something done he’d been putting off, like cleaning the bathroom or folding laundry.
Eddie never accepted payment.
Steve tried bringing it up once school started, certain that this time spent here could’ve been better spent on homework or a part-time job that paid better than what Steve could offer. Eddie just shook his head and insisted that other than Hellfire every Thursday, he would be there for free.
They got to know each other over dinner, and Steve found that he was right to have butterflies every time Eddie smiled at him, every time he would touch his hand as he walked by to say hi to Mackenzie.
“Halloween costume ideas?” Eddie asked with his mouth full. Steve had given up long ago on trying to get him to wait until he was done chewing. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “What did this little miss go as last year?”
“Oh. She was a bumblebee.” Steve smiled at the memory. “Cutest costume I saw all night.”
“I bet.” Eddie took a sip of his water. “And you?”
“Oh, I didn’t dress up.”
“What? Why not?” Eddie sounded genuinely upset.
“Just got away from me, I guess? By the time I thought about it, nothing good was left at the store,” Steve shrugged, unbothered. He’d never been that into Halloween. His focus was making sure Mackenzie had fun.
“And no one offered to help you make something?” Eddie was no longer eating and Mackenzie had turned her attention to him when his tone became serious.
“I didn’t ask.”
“But no one offered.” Eddie stood up and walked over to his backpack. “Okay, we’ve gotta plan. Did you already pick something for her?”
He came back holding a notebook and a pencil, brows set in a straight line. Steve had never seen him look so serious.
“I had a few ideas, but I wanted to let her pick something at the store,” Steve said.
“Lay them on me.”
They discussed costumes for the next 30 minutes, but after only 10, Mackenzie whined to get out of her chair. Eddie wordlessly stood up and picked her up, setting her in his lap and letting her poke and prod at him and his notebook.
Steve watched them both, accepting for the first time that this wasn’t just a crush that was gonna go away.
He’d fallen completely head over heels for Eddie, and he had no clue what to do about it.
*****
November 1985
Steve was the only one who had space to host Thanksgiving.
He became manic a week before, realizing that his work schedule would not allow him to have much time to clean unless he did it at night. The problem was that he would get a migraine if he didn’t sleep.
“So let’s work on it together. I can come right after school. Cancel Hellfire this week,” Eddie offered.
“But you already won’t have it next week because of Thanksgiving. I can’t ask you to-”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. If I’m gonna be eating here, I should probably help clean up at least.”
So they worked on a little at a time.
Eddie wasn’t always helpful, getting distracted by some of the smallest things. But his company was appreciated all the same.
“You could invite Wayne, ya know,” Steve offered while he dusted the shelves in the living room. “Plenty of room and food.”
“Thanks, but he always works Thanksgiving day for the double pay. We usually do something the day after,” Eddie answered while he cleaned up all of Mackenzie’s toys.
“If he decides not to work, just let him know.”
“Will do, Stevie.”
He didn’t just help clean, he helped him do the shopping, too.
“I know it’s way harder with a baby, so if you give me a list, I can handle the shopping,” Eddie said while Steve plated their dinners.
“You don’t-”
“Have to, I know. But I can and will.” Eddie’s hand brushed against Steve’s lower back. “Let me help.”
Steve could barely resist the shiver that took over his entire body.
“Okay. Sure.”
Some of the brands were wrong, and he forgot the apples for the apple pie, but Steve still felt immense relief knowing that he had someone to help.
And without it, Thanksgiving would’ve been a disaster.
It was still a bit of a mess, but that was mostly because the kid’s table turned into a food fight that Max started and Mackenzie, of course, continued, until everyone was involved.
But the picture Jonathan took would get framed and hang up near the fireplace in the living room anyway.
******
December 1985
“I cannot believe you waited until Christmas Eve to wrap gifts. That’s not what parents actually do, is it?” Eddie asked as he fought with the tape dispenser for the fifth time in less than an hour.
“I don’t know if I’m the best judge of what parents do. Mine weren’t around much and probably didn’t even wrap my gifts themselves.” Steve took the tape from him, pulled some loose from the roll, and handed it back. “But I kinda always pictured it like this.”
Robin made him swear he’d talk to Eddie about his feelings before the end of the year. The end of the year was soon, real soon.
What better shot did he have than while Mackenzie was asleep and they were wrapping presents together?
“You pictured last minute wrapping with bribed help in your living room?” Eddie asked, amusement in his tone.
“Not exactly,” Steve huffed out a laugh. “More like spoiling my kid with someone I care about.”
Steve watched Eddie’s hands freeze against the clothes box full of new finger puppets they’d both gotten her. He looked over and felt his stomach swoop as Eddie’s eyes found his.
“Stevie-” Eddie set the box down and turned to face Steve.
“Wait, I just. Before you break my heart, hear me out.” Steve already felt his world shrinking, his heart rabbiting in his chest at the thought of losing Eddie entirely. “I’ve spent a lot of time with you for months. Like, more than almost anyone else. I’ve watched you with Kenzie, and how much she loves you and always asks for ‘Ed’ even when it’s way before when you’re gonna be here. You make me smile and laugh and that’s not always easy to do these days. You helped me when you didn’t have to, when you had absolutely no reason to trust that King Steve was a better person. You’re there for all the other kids even though you’re trying to get through school for real this time. I didn’t really plan a big speech, sorry. This is just rambling, I’m doing what Robin does.”
“It’s okay,” Eddie placed his hand on the side of Steve’s neck. “I get what you’re saying.”
“You do?”
“I think so.” Eddie stepped in closer. “But I think you might just be lonely.”
It stung. It wasn’t inaccurate, but it still hurt to think Eddie thought so little of him.
“I think I know how I feel.”
Eddie’s hand dropped from his neck and he took a step back. “I don’t wanna argue, Stevie. I just think you might need to separate yourself from the situation. I’m just always around, ya know?”
“You’re always around because I want you around!” Steve was just a bit too loud, but he knew Mackenzie was a heavy sleeper. “When you aren’t here, I check the clock to know when you will be. I get excited to leave work now because I’m not coming home to do the same thing I always did before. I get to see you and hear about your day and talk to you about mine and see you with my daughter, who probably loves you as much as I do.”
“You…love me?”
“Yes. I do. And I promise it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I still want you here, reading to Kenzie. But I know how I feel. I know why I feel the way I do. You can’t tell me how to feel.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to.” Eddie sighed. “I’m just kinda surprised. Didn’t expect you to be into guys, let alone me. I’m not exactly good boyfriend material. Or stepparent material, either.”
“Oh, fuck that. You’re more her other parent than her mom ever was. She gave her to me the moment she had her and wished me luck before her entire family moved across the country.” Steve felt tears in his eyes. “I trust you. I want you around. I love you.”
Eddie swallowed, eyes pointed towards the carpet.
A minute passed, two. It was rapidly approaching awkward when finally Eddie spoke.
“But I’m so bad at wrapping presents.”
Steve snorted, but felt relief wash over him. “I can do the wrapping. This Christmas, next Christmas, as many Christmases as you’ll stay.”
“All of them?”
“Sounds good to me.” Steve leaned in slowly, let his hands grasp at the front of Eddie’s shirt to pull him closer. “How many Christmases do kids usually believe in Santa?”
“I dunno. I stopped believing when I caught my dad stealing the two presents under our tree when I was four.” Eddie let his hands fall to Steve’s hips. “But something tells me the little princess will be a believer for a while. Better get used to me ripping holes in the paper and using too much tape.”
“Think I can handle it.”
Every time Steve had pictured kissing Eddie before this, he’d thought it would be like any other first kiss, maybe a little awkward since it was his first with a guy.
Instead, it was soft, sweet, slow, perfect. He’d kissed a lot of girls in high school, had kissed them well. Not all of them were great, but even a less than good kiss was still decent.
This was more than any other kiss he’d ever had.
Eddie held him like he would never let go, like this kiss would last forever.
It couldn’t, but that’s how it felt.
When they finally pulled apart, Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.
“You wanna stay tonight? We can both do the Santa gifts with Kenzie before all the kids bother us,” Steve asked.
“I should call Wayne. I told him I’d be home by midnight.”
“He can come over in the morning, too,” Steve said. “If you want.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for Wayne? He can be a little…gruff.”
“I’m not worried,” Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Hopper’s basically my dad. Plus, Mac’s got a way of breaking the tough old men down.”
“Bets?”
Steve pulled away and started wrapping another present before he got too distracted. “I give it ten minutes.”
“Oh, how generous. I’m giving it five.”
They both laughed as Eddie decided he’d be more help putting already wrapped presents in her stocking and under the tree and making sure everything was put away when Steve was done.
And for the first time, Eddie stayed the night, holding Steve against his chest while they slept.
They both cried when Mackenzie opened her presents excitedly. She was too little to do it herself last year, so seeing her tear through the paper and find joy in throwing it around the room was like a dream come true for Steve.
Eddie admitted he felt like he was intruding for some of it, but Steve quickly reminded him that he was the first person she toddled over to with her new set of princess books and said “Ed, read.”
She sat in his lap right then, even though she still had quite a few presents to open, and he read every single book to her, making her giggle with his high-pitched voices for the princesses and silly accent for the prince.
By the time the kids were coming through the front door, Steve was rushing to shush them, pointing at the couch where Eddie was passed out with Mackenzie curled up against his side.
Steve was never happier than in this moment.
Until the next one, and the one after that.
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strawberrystepmom · 5 months
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pairing: Suguru Geto x F!Reader
word count: 9.7k
contents: Canon compliant up to the events of JJK0, cult leader!Suguru, naive reader, slight age difference between reader and Geto (5 years), reader can see curses/has cursed energy but it is kept intentionally vague
cw: dark content | emotional manipulation, dubious consent, voyeurism, oral sex (m!receiving), spit, violence, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of religion and religious imagery, mind fuck-y
notes: so this is a remaster/full repost of unkindness that was on my old blog! i only got up to like the third segment in that post so i figured why not do it all at once. thank you for reading if you do and i hope that you enjoy my little story! ♡ | crossposted to ao3
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When you were eight years old, sitting in your mother’s lap as she combed through your wet hair, you remember telling her about a recurring dream you had been having for weeks. You were nervous to tell her, your little hands balled into fists as they rested against your nightgown clad thighs. 
“A raven,” you recount to her as she nods and gently uses the bristles of the comb to detangle a knot. “Bigger than any bird I’ve ever seen is in this dream every night, flying around over my head.” Your mother sighs and reassuringly pats your head. You hear the spritz of a spray bottle from behind you, a synthetic green apple scent filling your nostrils. 
Telling her filled your stomach with anxiety, an issue you didn’t know you had at the time. You figured the world was just scary back then. You wish you could go back and tell yourself how right you were. About how scary the world is, anyway. To tell yourself about how everything will eventually end up likely wouldn’t change the outcome but at least you could say a few things.
“The raven comes to the ground eventually. He doesn’t fly over your head forever, instead he glides by your side.”
“The visions you’ve seen are real, you aren’t crazy.”
The most unbelievable thing of all?
“You end up in love and you end up losing yourself along the way.”
Back then though, you only had your mom and her words to illuminate the darkness you felt lurked around every corner.
“Have you ever heard of omens?”
Shaking your head, you turn to look at your mom who is tapping the edge of the comb against the heel of her hand. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek and you can tell she’s deciding what to say next to comfort you. Your mom has never been good at this kind of thing, a woman who never envisioned she would have a child with so much angst and fear. 
“Sometimes we receive signs that something is going to happen in our lives even if we don’t understand them,” she starts. You hear her mouth open, as if she wants to add something additional, but you hear it snap shut as if she thought better of it. You nod once, signaling your understanding and she gets back to work at the stubborn tangle at the base of your skull without another word shared between the two of you.
You hate that this is the most vivid memory from your childhood.
You hate that you still have the dream.
You wake with a gasp, looking around and blinking as warm morning light filters through the window. Feeling around the bed, you wonder if Suguru is already up and moving for the day as your hands touch the duvet where he should be. It’s cold, as if nobody was there in the first place. Knowing that may have been the case anyway, you sigh and rub your hands over your face. 
“Suguru?”
His name leaves your lips in a tentative manner and you look around the room to make sure he isn’t looking at the early morning sun or standing there watching you sleep. No matter how much of your life you spend with him, you’ll never get used to the feeling of those black diamond eyes following you everywhere you go. But finally, you are seen. 
Four years spent with him and no one sees you like he does.
You were 18 years old, a few months from graduating high school, when Suguru approached you. The sight of a stranger raised your hackles, scared of the world at large at that point in your life, and you were concerned trouble was coming for you. All of the omens in your dreams would finally come true at the hands of this beautiful man, rising to his full height which is nearly towering over you. His hair was shorter then than it is now, just past his shoulders and tied in a neat half bun off of his face.
He looked like less of a god now than he did then but you knew it. The omnipresent feeling of him sticks in your bones. It’s the confidence that makes you stand with your back straight, that guides you through the worst of the days where he’s nowhere to be found. 
Unable to find him, you shuffle back to the futon and lay down amongst blankets that smell like him. You’ve never been able to place the scent but you know it’s his. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you let your mind wander back to all of those years ago.
“I know this seems sudden but I wanted to ask you about your gift.”
Mention of your gift, not that you’d ever call it that, makes you freeze. He notices your expression, wide eyed and haunted, and he fights the urge to smile at you. Just as he and everyone else suspected, you have no idea what you’re capable of. It would be a failing worthy of death to let Gojo find you first. Suguru couldn’t risk the bird dog finding his canary and dropping her off, bloodied and broken, on the doorstep of the Sorcerer community. 
He wouldn’t allow it.
“M..my gift?” You repeat with uncertainty and he nods, bun bobbing against the back of his head as he does so. The situation is withering, a handsome stranger asking you about a secret you’ve kept hidden for your whole life while the sun beats down and makes you sweat. You wonder if you’re about to be killed.  
“You are an exceptional young woman, do you know that?”
The background noise of the world fades out, the sound of the spring birds chirping disappearing as you blink once, twice, and you notice those dark eyes fixated on you. You blanch and avert your eyes. Were you even allowed to look at him? Dressed in such nice clothing with such a regal demeanor? Shaking your head, you play off the awkwardness with a humorless chuckle.
“You must be looking for someone else, sir.” Bowing your head as a sign of respect, you turn to walk away. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
Before you can turn on your heel to walk away, you feel a large palm rest on your shoulder. You take note of the weight of it, the feel against your bones, and you wonder why this is happening to you? You are so afraid but you can’t run, you don’t have the guts for it. What do you do now?
Nothing. You do nothing, just as you’ve done your entire life. You let this strange man grab you, hold you, speak to you. Humiliation rises like bile in your throat and you turn to face him, astounded again by his beauty. The sunlight catches his dark eyelashes, warmth emanating from him. How can you walk away? You won’t walk away.
“I don’t want this to be more strange than it already is,” he starts, voice deep and dreamy. You could get lost in the baritone and the way it wraps around you but you choose instead to focus on his words to try and understand what he wants from you. “But I know you have something nobody else has. Abilities.”
He’s correct but you wonder how he could possibly know about your struggles. You have kept them to yourself for years even to the detriment of your own well being. Your mother and father both assume you’re deranged and there are times where you’ve wholeheartedly agreed with them since you began seeing the things that haunt you at every turn when you were 5. 
“How do you know about that?”
The man shakes his head and holds his free hand ahead of him. “Why don’t you walk with me and we can talk some more?”
How can you say no with his hand on your shoulder? Turning on your heel to face him, you keep quiet and wait for further instructions. Your naturally submissive tendencies are serving you well in this situation and Geto doesn't hide his smug smile. You are perfect and he knew it.
As the two of you begin to pick up pace walking side by side, you anxiously keep your eyes glued to the ground. Being able to visualize each of your steps is keeping you calm and if you look down, there's less of a chance you'll see whatever is out there to scare you.
"Look at me."
He doesn't ask, he commands, and you listen. For the first time, you notice something perching on his shoulder. It's formless for the most part and less terrifying than what you usually see attached to others as they pass by you but you're intrigued nonetheless.
"Do you know about that....thing?" Pointing to his shoulder, he nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief. "You see them also?"
A chuckle is his response and you ponder what it means while you wait for him to clear up your confusion. "I don't just see them, I control them."
The figure disappears quickly and you gasp, searching around your own feet and your shoulders to make sure he didn't order it in your direction to harm you.
"How?"
Despite your trepidation, Suguru can see the way that your eyes sparkle at the thought of someone being like you. He knows how it felt for him, too.
"I can show you and so can my friends." He watches your nose scrunch in confusion at his words and he laughs, amused. The sound is musical and uplifting and you feel yourself lightening up for the first time maybe in your entire life. Knowing you aren't alone has shifted your perspective more than you realized it would.
"There are more of you?"
"A couple dozen, yeah."
Nodding, you think for a moment. What if he can actually help you? What if these people are actually like you? What if you can find a place that suits you for the first time in 18 whole years?
"How can you help me?" 
The man turns to you, knowing smirk in place across his mouth. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”
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You hate her.
Never in your life has such a bitter feeling gathered in the pit of your stomach. Your face flames every time Manami walks by, you can feel it and you know she can see it. Tonight, you are more glad than ever to be on kitchen duty even if it means having to listen to her cackle from the other side of the wall.
“Geto-sama!”
She sing-songs across the tatami with a giggle as Suguru traipses by en-route to have dinner with the group, seating himself at the head of the table as everyone else files in around it. You fight the urge to roll your eyes from where you’re standing next to Mimiko and Nanako, pouring hojicha into tea cups. 
“Geto-sama,” you mock under your breath and Nanako giggles, dishing rice into bowls at your side. The two of you giggle together, a secret shared, as she begins to bring the dishes to the table for service. Sorting your tea cups, you count how many more servings you need as you look around the doorframe to see who is waiting.
Your relationship with Geto’s most trusted inner circle has expanded greatly since you first arrived months ago. 
They knew better than to be outwardly distrustful of you. Aside from the twins, every one of them had set out to find Suguru and his group on their own. He found you. He brought you. He touted your abilities long before you arrived.
“She’s the perfect blank slate,” he gushed over dinner one night as the other members of the group listened enraptured. “We got to her just in time, too. My source says that Gojo was planning on paying her a visit.”
Your arrival was underwhelming. Greeted at the end of the footpath that leads to the front door by Miguel, Larue, Mimiko, and Nanako while Manami glowered from the porch with folded arms, you weren’t immediately made to feel welcome by anyone except for Suguru who continued to guide you along the property with your arm looped in his. She was scoping you out, taking an assessment. She believed you to be no threat. She believed wrong.
Tinkering with the last cup on the counter, you take one look into the dining room again and the realization that your usual spot is full makes you chuckle humorlessly. Not that you’re surprised, Manami has done all but piss all over Geto to mark her territory but the sight makes a bitter, sour feeling turn in your guts just the same. Your nose scrunches as if you’ve smelled something bad and you don’t immediately hear when someone else enters the kitchen to pick up the tea cups you are still filling.
“About ready?” 
The voice you recognize as belonging to Mimiko calms you and you respond with a nod, wrapping your hand around the warmest cup as you take a breath and plaster a smile on. This one goes to the man himself and you feel eyes upon you as you offer it to him with a bow. His hand lingers on top of yours for a moment and you’re glad your face is pointed toward the ground, your flustered look hidden as long as you don’t make eye contact.
“We’re just waiting on you,” he chides lightly, always a stickler for timeliness. You lift your head to his view enough to offer an apologetic half smile. He pats the side of your face with his tea-warmed hand and your smile grows. Your eyes meet his rich, umber colored pair and you feel at peace. “Manami will be out of your spot by the time you get back.”
A small “oooooooh” breaks out around the table but the tension is quickly killed with a sharp look from Suguru. Everyone quietly begins shuffling their utensils and you don’t stick around to watch Manami’s rejection, scurrying back to the kitchen to gather your own rice and tea. 
“I want to share a few moments after dinner, if you’d all like to stick around.”
Suguru’s words inspire nods and happy, affirmative hums and you catch the tail end of them as you settle next to him at the table. Your opposition glares icily from the other end of the table, the same look she kept plastered on her face the day you arrived, and you meet her eyes long enough to offer a sweet smile before bowing your head in thanks for the meal you were about to share.
“I’d especially like for you to stay,” he looks across the table at Manami who nods once before turning back to her plate. Her lips are pursed and her eyebrows are knit together in irritation but smugness glimmers in her eyes. “You too,” he says and you turn your head to see him glancing down at you. Fondness crinkles the corners of his eyes slightly and you shrink into yourself with a nod and a shy smile. “Of course.”
The rest of dinner goes as you’ve come to expect. The twins giggle and joke with every other member of the group and you all sit beneath the watchful eyes of your leader who sips at his own tea with a barely visible over the edge of his cup smirk but you can see it from where you sit. You can see the corners of his mouth upturned just enough it makes your heart flutter in your chest. 
He looks down at you and thinks about how vulnerable you look. How little you hide, your emotions and yourself alike. Were you like this before he met you or is this his influence? He takes credit. He knows the way you flash fake nice shit eating grins in Manami’s direction is for his sake. His sweet little bird isn’t afraid to fight and he hoped that would be the case.
“Since we’re all here, I wanted to discuss a few things,” Geto clears his throat and sets his cup on the table in front of him. He basks as he feels every eye in the room turn toward him but none make him feel more intoxicated than yours. When he casts you a glance, you smile shyly. He wonders if you’ll do that forever, look at him as if he’s a savior on a big white horse. He hopes so.
“I want to make some changes in what we’ll all be doing around here,” his voice rings proud and clearly and you fight the urge to prop your head up with your hand girlishly to get a better look at him. A few people shift in their seated positions but you don’t glance around to find out who, gaze fixed upon the person you want to witness the most. 
“Manami, your duties are changing.” Replacing the sound of shifting clothing is small gasping and murmuring. Manami has been Geto’s assistant for close to two years, a coveted spot amongst anyone in the group. “You will still be my personal assistant but only for off compound events and daytime hours.”
Grateful for your own refusal to look at the rest of the table, you can tune out the uncomfortable chatting. “I know this may be surprising but we have many things ahead of us we need to prepare for,” he starts and the noise quiets. “Manami is one of the brightest among us and she will excel no matter what she’s doing.”
Hearing him praise someone else makes your back stiffen, the urge to pick at the seam of your t-shirt making your fingers twist in the fabric idly. You’re grateful your grip is beneath the table, hidden from view. No one will suspect how you feel as long as you’re careful but you gasp as you feel two large, soft hands untangle your fingers from your shirt and squeeze them between their palms. Looking up you’re greeted by the handsome, vulpine smile of Geto and you feel another gentle squeeze of your hands. 
You take a deep breath and ground yourself, focusing on his words as he opens his mouth.
“You will be my new on-premises and evenings assistant.” Despite your shock and the look on your face that shows it clear as day, you nod. “I would love to,” you clarify and he squeezes your hands once more as he rises and drops your clammy fingers back into your lap. 
Standing at his full height, Geto smiles as he looks over the faces of everyone sitting around him. Even Manami is working to hide her pout, looking toward the ground but keeping a smile plastered on her face. You sit with your legs tucked beneath you, a shred of hope illuminating parts of you that you once saw as dark and empty. 
You get to spend most of your day with Geto, most of your evenings too. Perhaps in that time he will finally have the opportunity to tell you about your gift. In 6 months you’ve learned as much as you knew the day you arrived but that may be soon to change. Giddiness makes you smile slightly, your face beaming as you keep it looking up. 
Suguru extends his hand in your direction and your smile grows wider. Gingerly placing your palm in his, he helps you rise as he places his hands on either side of your face. You strain your neck glancing up at him, you’re only chest level or so to his massive form and you can feel him using his grip on your cheeks to lower your head. Once you’re gazing at the floor his lips graze your forehead and you gasp, fire erupting through your limbs. 
“I’m going to teach you so much,” he coos as he uses his grip to turn your face back toward him. His eyes drink in the sight of you - the tip of your nose, the shape of your lips, and he smirks so quickly you swear you only imagined it. His thumbs graze your cheeks before he drops his grip and looks over your head at everyone else. That tall, dark shadow rests directly over you, though.
“You’re all dismissed, thank you for a lovely evening.”
Everyone stands and you stay facing Geto until all of the footsteps have filed out, waiting for his permission to leave next. You flinch slightly when his hands grip your face again, a natural reflex to the surprise of his touch, and he gazes at you silently for so long you stop keeping time. It could have been seconds, it could have been days - you will never know but you will accept it nevertheless. 
“Come see me tomorrow morning,” he whispers and you nod. You can see his eyes flit from your eyes to your mouth and you wonder what he’s thinking. He dips his head slightly and you can feel his lips brush gently against yours, a kiss almost too small to be qualified as one. You shiver, his thumbs digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks. 
“Yes sir.”
“Say that again,” he mutters against your lips. The vibrations of his words are directly on your skin and the heat that erupted in your limbs before has become a full blown fire, your face hot and your palms sticking together. “Yes sir.” 
He presses another kiss to your forehead and releases his grip, straightening his back out as he walks toward the door and offers you a bow of his head. “Get some rest.”
You make certain he’s gone before you touch your fingers to your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as you commit the feel of his soft mouth on yours to memory. You won’t be sleeping tonight.
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“Geto-sama?”
The sound of your meek voice alerts Suguru to your presence and he looks up from his usual place by the open sliding door between his room and the porch attached to it, a light breeze blowing his hair off of his shoulder. He looks ethereal and resembles a hero from a book you obsessively read as a child. Rescuing a sweet young woman from a life marred by sadness, the hero hauls her off to a place where she can be happy.
The irony isn’t lost on you.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” you start, clasping your hands together in front of you and he rises to standing, elegance exuding from him even in the most mundane of situations. He approaches you and gently rubs the back of your head and you fight the urge to lean into the touch. No amount of him feels like enough.
“You didn’t interrupt anything,” he responds with a serene smile, one you’ve noticed is just for you. He doesn’t smile at anyone else like that, not even Manami, and smugness rises in you for a split second before he speaks again. “What can I do for you?”
Clearing your throat, you look toward the ground and keep your hands linked. Geto recognizes the posture, something you do frequently when you want to speak, and he waits with his own hands joined inside of the sleeves of his yukata robes. He loves how naturally you submit to him, how you won’t even meet his eyes.
“Why am I here?”
If he’s surprised by your question, he doesn’t show it, but he does take a few strides to your side to place a comforting arm around your shoulder. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. Sides pressed together, you’re surprised when you feel the most minuscule squeeze of reassurance. Your heart threatens to burst as he leads you to where he was sitting and invites you to sit across from him, the two of you looking out at the sun setting on the horizon. 
“Before I answer,” he adjusts his sitting position and turns to face you. The golden hour warmth hits his face and you swear, not for the first time, you are glancing at a deity. Something, someone, greater than yourself. You shouldn’t be this close to him and you start to spiral but his voice brings you out of your own mind and into reality, your gaze shifting from the ground to him. “Will you tell me why you’re asking?”
Twisting your fingers together and sitting your hands in your lap, you sigh. 
You’re uncertain of how much time has passed since you left your old life behind to join him and while you do finally feel at peace with yourself, the natural pull you feel toward the man who brought you here in the first place hasn’t dissipated in the way you expected it to. It feels like an unfulfilled hunger, a need more than a simple want at this point, but how can you begin to tell him that?
“I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll see me differently.”
Your words finally get a rise from Suguru and he quirks one of his dark brows. The crack in his cool headed exterior makes you giddy - is that because of you? You’re dumbfounded when his posture changes and he scoots closer to you, your knees nearly touching his. Should you pick yours up and press them against your chest? To quell your own anxiety, you decide to follow his lead. You will only move if he does.
“Nothing you say will change my opinion of you.” He reaches out and touches your knuckles with the tips of his fingers and you feel heat rise through every inch of your body. The touch makes you feel emotional and you break the intense eye contact between the two of you to stare at the ground, hoping it will hide the tears that are threatening to spill down your lash line. “I brought you here.”
Nodding, you lift your still joined fists together and wipe your eyes and down your cheek with the back of one of your hands. Although you are still looking down, you can see Geto moving from your periphery and you wonder what he’s going to do next. 
Concerned your display is upsetting him, you sit still and try to regulate your breathing to keep from sobbing but errant tears still flow. You feel Suguru’s finger before you realize what’s happening and you flinch slightly beneath his touch as he wipes the wet tracks off of your skin. He wipes his finger along the fabric of your yukata robe before wrapping both of your fists in one of his much larger hands.
“Please be honest with me.”
Thinking back to what prompted this need for confirmation of what you mean to him, you dig your nails into your palm until you’re certain marks will be left. Manami, someone who spends almost as much time around Geto as you do, comes into your mind and you gnaw on your lower lip as you think about the jealousy churning in your gut. Why does she get to be there to help him make decisions? Why does she get to watch while he’s in meetings? Why did you see her leaving his room last week, hours before dawn?
Knowing it should be you is the emboldening thought you need to open your mouth.
“Do I mean anything to you?”
Feeling him squeeze your fists, the palm of his hand warm and comforting, you release the breath you’ve been holding. For better or worse, you’re about to find out and although your mind is racing, willing yourself to be calm comes easy in his presence. As if you needed further confirmation of everything he has done for you at a moment when you’re demanding something you feel unreasonable for wanting.
“You mean everything to me, you’re our future.”
His confirmation makes you weep. Tears flow freely, dripping down your cheeks and they hit the knuckle of Suguru’s thumb. You should feel guilty, you think, for putting him in a position to have to answer to you but cannot bring yourself to do it. You shouldn’t have had to wait more than a year to know but forgiveness is easy when it comes to him. If anyone should be sorry it’s you for questioning him in the first place and so you begin to ask for forgiveness.
“I’m so sorry for asking, Geto-sama.”
You feel him pulling you into his lap, his strong hands wrapping around your hips and the blood rushes into your face. Perching with uncertainty, your bottom rests against his thigh and it feels natural. All of the yearning couldn’t have prepared you for this feeling and you sigh as he brings one of his large hands to cup the back of your neck, his voice so close to your ear it makes goosebumps erupt across your skin.
“Call me Suguru from now on,” he whispers, a secret for your ears only. You feel his lips press against the space where your jaw and neck meet, another secret for the two of you to keep. Everyone on the compound would view you differently if they knew this was happening but you don’t care. You can’t care, not when he’s running his palms up your waist and unfastening your robe.
The opened door with a view of the outside doesn’t concern you as Suguru’s deft fingers work at the knot keeping you decent, the same breeze that rustles his hair that has always reminded you of feathers blowing across your bare chest as the robe is worked down around your waist. Your nipple stiffens and Geto reaches to pinch it between his thumb and index finger, making you yelp.
“How long have you wanted this, my little bird?” He wonders aloud and you almost feel as if he isn’t speaking to you at all, he merely wants you to listen and to witness. “Since you met me?”
He knows the truth just as he knows the way you’re looking at him. Eyes lidded, cheeks puffed out, lips wet with your own spit. You’re never going to leave his side.
“Tell me the truth,” he pinches your nipple once more and you arch your back, lip jutting out at the roughness of the feeling. Nobody has ever touched you like this before and the feeling is electric. Despite the fuzziness in your brain, the heady arousal clouding your every thought, you wet your lips with your tongue and speak. 
“So long, Suguru.”
He smirks knowingly and lowers his head to suck your breast into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping at your skin. It’s nothing short of heaven, you think. This is how it always should have been. His hands travel from the dip of your waist to your hips, pulling the fabric of your robe further down to expose more of you to his hungry eyes. You reach out toward his face, your fingers tentatively brushing against his lower lip and he releases your nipple from his mouth.
“Can I touch you too?”
Another whisper, another secret. A predatory gleam shines in Suguru’s eyes and you wiggle against his lap, keeping your fingertips pressed against his mouth. He puckers and kisses them gently, reaching to grab your wrist. He places your hand against the bulge beneath his robes, covering your delicate fingers with his own.
“You can,” he uses his grip on your hand to press the heel against his hard cock and he hisses through his teeth. You admire the way his throat looks when his head is tipped back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing. How is everything he does so effortlessly beautiful, you wonder. Your attention is recaptured by his voice. “But first, how long?”
Your wide eyed, parted lip expression only serves as further fuel for the blood pumping between his legs. You look so innocent, the same as you did when he felt the first of your defenses crumble, the day he approached you to come with him. It strikes him as funny that both times, your vulnerability is because he has put his hands on you. Nervously, you shift in his lap and he presses you closer to his body to keep you from going any further. 
“Since the first day,” you admit, to him and yourself for the first time. He smirks, molding your hand around his bulge and you squeeze. Another hiss from him is all you want, the noise motivating you to offer yourself further. Using your free hand, you slip out of your robe the rest of the way and for the first time, you're bare to his eyes.
"Look at you." Your face heats and you feel your posture collapse in on itself, shoulders slumping after being so seen. "Show me how well you listen."
His command drips with condescension but you’re too awed to notice. When you nod, he gently nudges you off of his lap and you tuck your legs beneath you. Watching as he rises, you stay seated and admire the way those same lithe fingers that were just caressing your overheated skin work at the knot in his own robes.
Those dark eyes glance down at where you kneel on the ground and he gently smooths his hand over the top of your head and slides it into place along your cheek to cup your face. Using his grip to force you to look at him, you do and appear dazed. Transfixed, perhaps, would be better. 
“I’ve always known,” Geto unfastens the knot in his robe fully and you gasp at the sight of his nude form backlit by dusk right outside the door. He’s tall and broad and you can’t look away. “That you would realize.”
Pumping his hand along his impressive length, you bite your tongue to keep from eagerly interrupting him. You want to touch him so badly, you have to sit on your hands like a child to keep from approaching sooner than you should. Before you can think any further about his words, he walks a few steps and the sticky head of his cock nearly brushes your soft, swollen mouth. 
“I knew it was you from the moment we met.” 
He hangs his head just low enough that you feel the words are truly meant just for you and you shiver. As you wait for further instruction, he squeezes your cheek and jaw in the palm of his hand. Your eyes don’t leave him once.
Suguru has always prided himself on his ability to break people down - to their core, their most base selves in every sense of the word. Usually there’s a moment where he can see in their eyes that they have been broken, cloudy and glossy. Yours have looked like that since he met you.
“This is what devotion gets you.” His words make you shiver as he uses his free hand to point the head of his cock at your lips, rubbing the sticky tip along your pouty mouth. Sitting still as stone and waiting for his directions, he gently pulls your face toward his pelvis and his tip pops into your mouth. A long, low moan leaves him and you squirm at the sound. “Just relax for me, okay?”
Suguru releases his grip on your cheek and moves to palm the back of your head, fingers finding an easy and natural grasp on your skull. You take a deep breath and look up at him with watery eyes and he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re perfect,” he breathes toward the ceiling and you tense slightly as he uses his grip to move more of his cock between your lips. “Stay relaxed, baby. It’s okay.”
Your head bobs slightly and he groans again and you wonder what it will take to get him to make that noise again, the deep guttural moan sending shockwaves to your clit. You want to rut against something, to feel the pressure release in your stomach and between your legs, but Geto is your first priority. 
Experimentally, you dip your face toward the dark hair at the base of his thick cock and you gag a bit as more of his length slips down your throat. The grip on the back of your head tightens and he gasps. Lifting your eyes in his direction for just a moment, you whine at the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure. Open mouthed, eyes shut tightly, every muscle in his neck bulging - you love it. If you were a more artistic person, you’d find a way to capture this forever but for now you commit the vision to memory and allow him to thrust his hips so that the remaining length of him dips fully between your lips. The tip of your nose brushes his pubic hair and you moan and gag around his length, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. Using the thumb of his free hand, Suguru brushes your tears away and it makes you sob and gag. 
“Oh, don’t give up on me now,” he comforts from above, brows furrowed as his hips jerk and your nose continually bumps against his pelvis. Finding a rhythm, he listens to the noises coming from between your lips with every stroke and he feels himself getting closer. His balls tense and his cock twitches and he isn’t willing to prolong the wait any longer than it has already been.
“Open up, keep your tongue out, just like that,” he instructs as he releases his cock from between your lips with a sticky and wet pop, jerking his hand along his spit covered shaft right above your lips and chin and nose. “Stay just like ahhh-,” his words are cut short with a pleasured shout as he shoots translucent ropes of cum across your spit soaked face. A splash lands across your tongue and you note the salty taste - something you’ll associate with just Suguru for as long as you live. 
Wrist pumping until he feels fully emptied, he takes a deep breath and covers himself halfway. His lean torso is visible and you feel your cunt throb at the sight and part of you wonders if he’s going to do the same for you - if he’ll kneel between your legs and worship your pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in days.
“Miguel, Manami, you can come in now.”
The deep voice filling your ears makes you scramble to cover yourself with your arms, your breasts and back bare to the open sliding door. The pair make their entrance and you keep your face pointed toward the ground, tears spilling hot down your cheeks. Suguru pats the back of your head as he walks back toward the tatami and sits, patting the spot next to him for you.
“Had some other business to take care of, please forgive my rudeness.”
You stay frozen in place but you can feel the eyes of your compatriots on your sticky face, remnants of Geto clinging to your cheeks.
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Days spent on the compound are simultaneously mind-numbingly boring and some of the busiest you’ve ever had.
Each morning, you rise with the sun and watch her from the window that is on the wall opposite where you lie. Most of the time you are on your side, arms wrapped around yourself, in your bed or Suguru’s depending on the events of the evening prior. He most often has you visit him in his quarters and you appreciate the near luxurious gift of privacy on those evenings. It’s far less private in your own room, thin walls separating yourself and whoever is in the room next to yours, although everyone seems to know exactly what Geto uses you for and has since your arrival.
He honors you by allowing you to love him, you remind yourself while the dark thoughts swirling in you churn. They’ll be chased away by the sun and by his presence when he returns to his room where you lay. His side of the futon is empty, already made up as if he were never there, so you allow your mind to wander. If he’s feeling generous, maybe today he will have lunch with you or even better, he’ll finally allow you to begin training your cursed energy into something more than a never-ending sinking feeling in your guts.
He promised you a very long time ago he would help you learn about your own abilities. It seems ungrateful to still long for usefulness considering you know exactly what your role is, yet you can’t help but wish to find this key to understand yourself that seems to always be out of reach.
Tracking the time fell away from you long ago, not long after the first time you were intimate with the man you so dutifully serve. Autumn gave way to winter which faded into a difficult to remember spring followed by the once again balmy days of summer. Again and again and again. Cicadas ring out across the secluded surroundings of the compound morning to night. You blink as they instruct you to rise, singing a tune even more rehearsed than the mechanical beeps of the alarms you used to set on your phone. How long has it been since you’ve had a phone? 
Does it matter?
Months or years may have passed but you find that you don’t care all that much. Time passes the same without being able to watch it, a voice that sounds a lot like Geto’s reminds you in the back of your head. You are here forever as part of your purpose to serve his goals and time is just a construct.
When’s the last time you felt like yourself?
Last night, when his satisfaction was the only thing you had to be concerned about, you chide yourself silently. You sound ungrateful to your own ears even if you don’t speak, these endlessly appearing questions becoming more aggravating with each second that passes, and you are annoyed and angry when you rise from Suguru’s bed, re-knotting the tie of your yukata. The shoji is open and he stands just outside of it wearing a cotton robe of his own, sunlight silhouetting him. 
He’s a God, you remind yourself, though it doesn’t kill the bitter taste in your mouth the way it usually does. Shuffling toward the door, you take a deep breath and call out his name from inside, his face turning toward you. This makes the bitter taste turn into something sweet you wish to taste again, a soft smile replacing your uncertain frown. 
“Good morning,” he calls toward you, sweeping his hand out in front of you to indicate where he’d like you to be. You dutifully follow the wordless instructions and arrive at his side with a smile, squinting in the early morning light.
“Good morning, Suguru. How did you sleep?” Smiling down at you, he gently takes your hand. “As well as I always do when you’re in my bed.”
The compliment and his touch make you feel girlish, heat rising in your face. To be a God’s beloved concubine is an honor, one you rarely take for granted even in your weakest moments. He has given you purpose, motivation, and an understanding you would not have found in a world with people who are unlike you.
Yet that same pit in your stomach lingers. He can tell, narrowing his eyes when he glances at you again though you avert your gaze.
“What’s on your mind?”
A tight smile slips across your face, measured and careful; similar to the one you always give Manami when she’s swearing her devotion to him at dinner or after the congregation. You want to tell him the truth, to open up and make him understand your need to be useful, but the words stick inside of you.
“Nothing, I just didn’t sleep very well.”
It isn’t exactly a lie but he knows that it isn’t the entire truth and his blood runs cold wondering what you’re hiding. You are usually so placid around him, glassy eyes and subdued smiles with averted eyes, but he can feel the anxiety flaring from your body. Are you unhappy? Is the spell he has held over you weakening? Does he need to scare you into reminding you of where your place is, the way he has with so many others?
Tutting gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side.
“Speak freely, I value everything you have to say.”
Lulled into a false sense of security, you look at him out of the corner of your eye.
“May I train with you today?”
Suguru laughs, lifting his hand and gently brushing his thumb against your chin. He’s always touching you when it’s just the two of you, hands rubbing your forearms or fingers pressed against your face. He’s a sculptor and what are you if not simply the clay he’s molding beneath his touch, smoothing out edges and reshaping you from the bottom up into something you aren’t sure you recognize anymore which is how he has always intended things to be. His perfect blank slate, he said so many years ago. There isn’t a time where you haven’t proven it to be true even if you need a reminder. 
“Why?”
The tone of his voice makes you feel foolish for asking and your sidelong glance turns to the ground beneath you. Subservience is a practice and one you tend to be good at, evidence provided in the form of your refusal to make eye contact even when he begins speaking again.
“I’ll protect you from anything that could hurt you. You know that, right?” He furrows his brow, one of his hands wrapped around your forearm while the other remains on your chin. “You are safe here. Nothing here can or would hurt you, not while you’re in my care. Isn’t that enough for you? You demand training so you can, what? Fight?” Chuckling and finishing with a haughty sigh, he shakes his head. “You don’t have a fight in you, little girl. You never have.”
Defenses faltering, you laugh to yourself and up at him, sensitive eyes once again squinting when faced with the grace of the higher being in front of you. Of course he’s keeping you from having to enter battles you aren’t equipped for, isn’t that what he has been doing this entire time? Protecting you from those shadows that have lurked over your shoulder and kept you from sleeping since you were a child, comforting you, blessing you. 
Your rudderlessness isn’t Suguru’s fault, it’s simply your own for assuming you know more than he does.
Nobody knows you like he does. They never will.
“Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”
You call him Suguru in pleasure and Geto-sama in exaltation, raising it to the heavens that put him on the earth. Moving to fall to your knees before him in apology for making him believe his protection isn’t enough, he stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. His thumb digs into your collarbone, somewhere between painfully and pleasurably, and you remain standing on wobbly feet with a dumbfounded expression. 
“I already have. For everything.”
There is so much you’ve done since you’ve arrived, so much to be forgiven for. Questioning him, doubting your place with him, doubting others, speaking with a jealous tongue and thinking poisonous thoughts. You accept his grace with a smile, tears rimming your eyes. You have always been told that forgiveness grants freedom, the wind at your back and the sun on your face. You feel it on this day, gazing up at a man who has saved you time and time again despite your own folly. 
Nodding and sniffling, you shut your eyes to stop yourself from open mouthed sobbing in thanks. You don’t deserve this and never have.
“I’m going to tell you something I’ve told nobody else, okay?” 
The assertion that he still trusts you despite your disrespect makes you emotional again, eyes opening and tears falling while you nod. 
“I love you.”
I love your devotion to me, he means, though you’ll never read between the lines to consider that the truth is that you are just a pawn to a man you’ve dedicated your existence to pleasing. Your body, your words, even the way you enter a room have all been carefully trained to suit him. You’ve been broken by his hands and he is always in a hurry to remake you, fashioning you into something once again useful.
“That’s why you’re here, little bird. To be safe and loved, not to fight or grow jealous or be angry with me. Are you angry with me?” You shake your head quickly, leaning into his touch with furrowed brows. He drops his hand from your chin and wraps his arm around your waist. “Never, Suguru.”
“Then don’t ask about training again, understood? Trust me to take care of you.”
And trust you do, nodding and finally letting that open mouth sob escape. He does a bit more tutting and his large hands paw at your body, yanking at the knot keeping your robe closed, roughly cupping your breast when the fabric falls open. Tears drip down your cheeks and onto the back of his hand, just how he likes it, and his tongue pokes out from between his teeth as he glances down at you.
“Do you trust me?”
This isn’t even close to the first time that he has asked but he needs to know just how many pieces he has smashed you into. He flexes his hand, squeezing your breast, further punctuating the point he’s trying to make - every little bit of you is his to have, to control, to make, to break, to feel.
“More than anything, Suguru, I swear.” Your legs ache to once again fold and bring you to your knees, the way you best know how to prove your regret, but you remain standing, lower lip quivering. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Your apology is a mantra you repeat as his hand dips lower beneath your robe, grazing the soft skin of your stomach and hip. Roughly wrapping a hand around said hip, he pulls you against his body, cold glance locked on your puffy, wet eyes. Despite himself, he smirks down at you, head tilted to the side. His hair is a black curtain that falls over both of you, soft strands resting against your bare torso and arm. 
“Do you love me?”
You do not have to think about your answer though it shakes when it leaves your mouth, your lungs begging you to gulp down enough air to replace what you’ve let escape through sobs. 
“I love you so much.” You shake your head and sob again. “Please, please believe me”
You feel like a half-formed thing, ready to be made over however he sees fit. 
“I believe you, no need to cry,” he assures you, grip on your hip tightening. You breathe through your open mouth and he takes the opportunity to bring his thumb to your face once again, pulling your jaw down and widening your mouth. You know what’s coming next, heat stirring from deep within you despite your sorrow, before he even commands it.
Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and he spits down onto the muscle.You roll it back into your mouth in an instant, grateful for the opportunity to have even the tiniest piece of him in you, his eyes following your throat as you swallow. Communion, consumption of him to purify yourself from the inside out. The ultimate apology until he can use your cunt to fulfill himself later, although he wants to take you now, right here, inviting everyone out to see the work of a master craftsman.
Sobs gradually give way to less powerful sniffles, you squint up at him with your skin exposed and his touch and his hair and his scent and wonder what you were even wishing would happen in the first place. That he’d train you to do what, exactly? This is what you were meant to do.
“Do you feel better?”
You nod and he smiles down at you, the same measured smirk he always wears. He leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling up the sleeve of your robe to give you some semblance of modesty but leaving it open as he ushers you back inside, sliding the shoji shut behind him. Suguru crowds you into the room, leading his nearly lost lamb toward the futon while untying his own robe.
“Now, apologize like you mean it.”
Now, you fall to your knees, grateful he’s allowed you to show how sorry you are in the shadows of his room instead of by the light of the sun.
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“War is on the horizon.”
Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you at Suguru’s side on the elevated platform at the front of the room, you keep your eyes downcast while he addresses his congregation. This is your role, it has been for a very long time now, and you’ve learned to ignore curious onlookers or newcomers who will never be able to fathom such fanatical love. 
You love him so much you silence yourself. You sit by his side, so quiet you may as well be nothing but air. You have never learned how to defend yourself or even delved into the curses that used to weigh you down; freedom from these responsibilities came in the form of surrendering yourself fully to him. Body, mind, soul, all tied to his whims. You are a puppet on a string and he is free to move you in whichever way he chooses.
Just the way you like it.
“I’ve officially made the declaration to Satoru Gojo himself.”
For the first time in years, you look up when you are meant to look down, the anxious murmuring of the crowd making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You know what happens when the congregation disagrees or questions their leader and he rises with a flourish, petting the back of your head gently before stepping off of the platform.
“Do I sense disagreement?”
Looking every bit the apex predator that he is, you dare keep your gaze trained on his back rather than the floor. His head swivels from one prostrate form to another, seeking out anyone who dares disagree with his plans. Foreheads touch the ground below them, the ultimate show of devotion, yet one head remains raised and Suguru chuckles as he approaches the newcomer.
You don’t know their name, you realize. You stopped bothering to learn the newcomer’s names given how little interaction you have with them. They’re nothing but faces to be forgotten about after they have spoken out of turn and met their end at the hands of the man standing with his chin held high.
“Is there something you’d like to say?”
Whatever boldness was previously etched into the face of the man kneeling before Suguru has very clearly disappeared but tension flares through the room regardless. You know that whatever choice he makes, however he chooses to deal with this foolish man, is exactly what he deserves. To spit in the face of God is bold and everyone has to learn their place eventually.
You certainly have.
“N-no, no. Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”
Suguru clicks his tongue, turning to face the rest of his family with his arms spread wide, face turned toward the ceiling. Your eyes are to be trained on the ground but you drink in the sight of him standing amongst the mortals who have always believed they know better than he does. 
“What do you think I should do to the non-believer today?”
The question is rhetorical. At least, the silent room treats it that way, no one rushing to answer. Everyone knows to only speak when spoken to, even the inner circle who welcomed you years ago keep their foreheads pressed to the ground. He quietly pads through the crowd again, headed back toward you, and your eyes meet the ground swiftly to avoid being punished for looking at him out of turn.
“Look at me.”
Yours are the only pair of eyes he ever truly cares to have on him. Following the command, you glance up at him, remaining with your knees tucked beneath you and your hands folded in your lap. The way he looks down at you is as tender as he will ever get, even his softness is cold and harsh, but he speaks loudly enough that even the room behind him can hear that he values your opinion above the rest of them.
“What do you think I should do with him?”
Smiling back at him, your glassy eyes meet his and you say exactly what you know he wants to hear.
“Kill him, Suguru.” 
Smirking, he reaches down to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb like he always does when you are performing as expected. It isn’t a performance anymore, if it ever was, it’s simply the way you feel when it comes to those who oppose him. He wags your head back and forth before dropping the touch completely, turning around and leaving you facing his back. 
Your eyes dart toward the ground once more. You were not instructed to look at him.
Geto walks through the rows of people once more, reaching to touch the backs of each of their heads while he passes, finally stopping in front of his target. His hands rest in the opposite sleeve of each of them and he bends at the waist, offering the same smile he gives to all of his victims.
“Well, unfortunately, your fate has been chosen. You may as well speak now while you still have the chance.”
A curse materializes, brought to this realm by the man in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the ground while screams and the sound of the rending of flesh fill the congregation room.
You’ll only look up once you’re instructed, as always.
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wosowrites · 1 year
Text
Against All Odds (Jessie Fleming x Reader)
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warnings: none
prompt: in which reader is a super buff boxer but gets all soft around Jessie, making Jessie’s teammates tease her.
a/n: for @woso-scotland
Growing up with 5 older brothers meant one thing. Chaos. The only time you all got along was when you were watching boxing on the TV. However, when you were 11, the middle child, Jacob, died. You had never heard the house so quiet, it haunted you to this day. He had only been 15.
But, 11 year old you wanted to make your family feel better, she wanted to give her family back the five boxers for children they had before the accident.
That’s why when you told your father you wanted to take up boxing, he didn’t say no. Your dad was your biggest fan. He came to every game, gave you tips until you were too good for them, and supported you through everything including your coming out. You were the only person in the family that had continued boxing, your brothers turning into architects, police officers and family men while you stayed nose deep in the world of boxing.
By the time you were 20, you were incredibly well known in the boxing world, and at the same time, a certain 20 year old was growing a name for herself too. Only in the football industry. However you would only meet Jessie Fleming years later at a gym…
You were ripped, to say the least. But not the kind of ripped that would go noticed to everyone. You wore hoodies and sweatpants and it made your build discreet, but the second you were in a sports bra and shorts it was undeniable you could take anybody in a fight.
Jessie met you at the supermarket in London. It was the middle of COVID and your boxing season has been cut short. You were wearing light blue Columbia sweatpants and a matching crewneck with a black mask. Your sneakers were white, but just barely as you only left your house for essentials.
You had always lived in LA which made the sudden move to London, England shocked to your family. But you knew you needed to get away from the world during this virus thing.
You turned the corner, holding a basket in your hand which was filled with vegetables, milk, fruit and some protein bars. As you did, you felt a cart come crashing into your legs and sending you flying backwards, landing on the ground.
"Oh my god! I’m so sorry," the young woman squealed, quickly leaving her spot behind the cart and rushing to your side. "It’s okay, i’m fine," you laughed, rubbing you knees and standing up. "I’m- Im so sorry I was just lost in my own mind and I didn’t see you," she apologized again. "What are you, Canadian? Enough apologies. I’m okay," you teased. "How did you know?" she asked, helping you place your own groceries back into your basket. "Know what?" you questioned, only realizing now how beautiful the girl in front of you was, or at least what you could see of her was. "That i’m canadian?" she said.
"Oh. I didnt. I was just kidding, but that makes sense now, and the accent," you laughed. "Okay American," she clapped back, rolling her eyes teasingly. "I feel like i’ve seen you somewhere," you said to her, narrowing your eyes. "Uh- no. Probably not. I’m your average girl," she said.
"So am I," you said.
The next week, you saw her again. This time, you had just come from the gym so you had on shorts and a tank top, showing off your features. Jessie was there too. "Hey!" she said to you as you met her in. the dairy alley. "Hi. How are you?" you asked her. "I’m good. And you’re jacked," she said, not so discreetly passing her eyes over your body. Usually, someone staring at you like that would make you self conscious, but the way Jessie did it made you feel good.
"Uh, yeah," you laughed. "Oh my god. When I left here last week I thought i recognized you too. That’s because you… box, right? On TV! A few of my teammates have a crush on you. They hate boxing but they love watching you," she laughed. "Oh really now? Well I don’t really care what they think but I care what you do. Because I recognize you too. Jessie Fleming, olympic athlete, two times world cup attender, and Chelsea player," you said, listing her honours.
"Stalker," she accused. "Yeah," you smiled. "Okay well how about I get to know you through another mechanism than google," you suggested. "You mean a date?" she asked, clearly blushing. "I do,"
But then the whole world went into lockdown again and your dates were more like king calls till midnight and face time dates.
Everything worked out though, because on this day of April 14th 2023, you were dating and more in love than ever.
Jessie’s Canadian teammates found out first. You had travelled to Ottawa with her for the celebration tour of winning the Olympics. Jessie had a video of you screaming your guts out by yourself in your apparement when they won the games. You were yelling, crying, and got a noise complaint the next day. But you didn’t care. All you wanted to do with your life was support your girlfriend, and that’s all she wanted to do with hers.
So, that’s how you found yourself front row in tiny little place TD stadium, sitting on a chair that was a little tight on your quads. Jessie scored a penalty, mimicking the one she did at the Olympics and you yelled for that too. You were probably the only American that loved the Canadian team more than anything.
After the game, the team walked around clapping to the fans and when Jessie got to you she stopped and hugged you over the barrier. "Come down, the security here is light," she said to you. So you climbed over the railing and hopped onto the turf. "Janine!" Jessie called, ushering over a blonde who had been talking to a man who looked like her brother. Janine jogged over and looked at you with wide eyes. You were pretty menacing to people who didn’t know you. "This is… y/n, my girlfriend," Jessie said. "You’re- your what?!! How long have you been together?" Janine asked. "Um, well we’ve been taking it slow a year but we made it official like six months ago," Jessie said. "Six. Months?!" Janine whisper yelled. "Hi, I’m y/n," you said, sticking your hand out.
Janine had clearly forgotten you were there as her her snapped towards you in confusion. "Oh, sorry. Hi, I’m Janine Beckie," she said. "Y/n Y/l/n," you smiled, shaking it. "Like the boxer?" she asked. "Uh, yeah," you laughed.
The introductions were then made in the Canada locker room which was even scarier as what felt like hundreds of pairs of eyes were on you.
"Okay. So I don’t do this… it’s not my thing but I thought after keeping our… relationship… secret for months you guys deserved to know. This is my girlfriend, y/n. And yeah she’s the boxer," Jessie said.
You blushed furiously and smiled at the girls who started asking questions all at once. "How did you meet?"
"She hit me." you said. "Okay woah! You need to add context there," Jessie laughed. "She hit me with her shopping cart," you added.
"Okay and what are your intentions. Because this is Baby Canada right here and she can’t play with a broke heart," Chappy said, summoning her motherly side. "My intentions are to never let her go a day without feeling loved and supported. My intentions are to… watch her play with a smile on my face and make sure she knows that she is the most wonderful person I have ever met. My intentions are to go broke because I buy all of her jerseys," you said, ranting a little bit.
"Okay softie," Stephanie said, winking over at Jessie and giving her a thumbs up. "Sorry to do this y/n but the post game talk is just for players. Gotta kick you out," Bev said, heading towards the door. "Oh right. Okay well it was nice meeting you all," you said. You turned to Jessie and gave her a quick kiss on the lips which she responded by placing her hand against your abs and kissing back before you left the room.
The second you closed the door chatter erupted in the room. "Okay Fleming I see your type now," Vanessa teased.
Teasing and more teasing echoed in the room, Even Bev chipped in.
But eventually calm settled over TD place and Bev started the post game talk.
The Chelsea girls found out about Jessie’s relationship at the start of the season… by accident.
You had called her after practice to let her know that your car had broken down on the side of this little street in the middle of suburb London and you were lost. She answered your call in the changing room.
"Hey Jess, can you come get me? My car broke down and the car repair people came and got it but they couldn’t give me a ride. I’m literally standing in this random street that looks like it’s in the middle of a forest," you groaned down the phone. "What? Are you okay?" she asked. "Yeah. Im fine, just… it’s gonna rain soon Jess. I was coming home from visiting a friend and-"
"Babe, I’ll be there as soon as possible. Send me your location," Jessie said and then hung up.
"Babe?" Magda asked, the whole room silent. "Yeah. I have a girlfriend by the way and her car broke down so I gotta go get her," Jessie said, quickly putting on a matching adidas hoodie and shorts and stuffing her belongings into her gym bag. "Jessie! You’re giving four people a ride home. It’s your carpool day. Which means…" Niahm started saying.
"You are not coming with me." Jessie said sternly.
"Road trip!" Niahm, Lauren, Sam, Zecira and Emily said at once. "Wait. We want to come too, meet the girl," Pernille said, pointing between her and Magda.
"Please no," Jessie groaned. "Wait, who doesn’t want to come," she asked.
No one raised their hand.
"Everyone get in a car and follow mine," the Canadian exhaled.
Turns out you were thirty full minutes away, but that didn’t discourage anyone within the four cars trailing behind Jessie’s honda.
There was music blasting in every vehicle and when rain started pouring, Jessie knew you would be in a bad mood.
"Someone grab my phone and text y/n telling her i’m almost there," Jessie said, fumbling with her device and tossing it to Emily in the backseat.
Jessie saw you the second she turned the curve in the road. You had your hood up, your arms crossed and you looked ready to kill. She knew that you were just pissed off and would never hurt a soul, but to the other girls, you seemed positively menacing.
Jessie jumped out of her car and ran towards you, hugging you tightly. "I’m so sorry, everyone wanted to come and-"
That’s when you saw the four other cars behind your girlfriends, but you didn’t care, you just kept hugging her and let the tears of frustration mix with the raindrops on your face. "It’s okay baby, they were bound to meet me one day," you said, brushing her now wet curls out of her face.
You had excepted everyone to stay in their cars due to the insane amount of rain, but before you knew it, the entire Chelsea Women’s roster was in front of you in the street. Magda and Pernille hugged you gently, giving each other a wide eyed look as they both felt your muscle mass. "Holy shit. You’re the boxer. I watch you on TV like all the time," Guro said, eyes wide.
"Well so do I- I watch you, I mean. Not myself. I watch all of you guys," you laughed.
"Your Guro’s celebrity crush is what she’s saying," Jessie teased. "Well not anymore!" The Norwegian laughed.
You spent dozens of minute talking in the rain, the cold downpour not seeming so bad when you had Jessie’s hand in yours.
Eventually, you got into the front seat and banished Sam to Magda and Pernilles car to make room for you.
You talked to the girls in the car and answered questions that the Canadian team had already asked. But you didn’t mind because those questions just meant you were lucky enough to have Jessie Fleming sitting beside you.
"She gets super focused when she drives," Emily said. "I know, I think it’s because she’s a bad driver," you teased. "I’m not! It’s just the whole reverse thing is confusing. The cars go the opposite way then they do in Canada," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.
You kept on looking at her, your eyes full of love. Jessie knew you were staring, but she just let the blush creep onto her cheeks and gave you a quick smile, returning the lovey dovey eyes.
Zecira snapped a picture from the backseat. The forest was clear through the windshield, and so were the droplets of rain. You could see Jessie’s blushing grin but not who it was directed too. She posted it to her story and closed her phone, enjoying the sound of the rain… and the one of Emily and Niahms arguing.
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ladykailitha · 3 months
Text
Sweet Home Indiana Part 8
I have finished the story (at long last! sheesh I can't believe how long this took me to get it done) and it has 10 chapters. And it has the happiest of endings. I couldn't stop smiling the whole time I was writing it.
Things appear hopeless, but Eddie and Chrissy start to find allies in their plight.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
****
Eddie woke up the next morning to a pounding head, an aching heart and signed divorce papers.
Of the three things the divorce papers were the worst.
So he did the only thing he could do in that moment, call Chrissy.
“Eddie!” she greeted. “I kinda expected a call before today. You know, being your fianceé and all.”
“Shit, Chris!” he murmured. “Is there someone there?”
She hummed her response.
“It been so hectic around here,” Eddie admitted. “And there was the fact that Steve wouldn’t give me a divorce.”
She sighed and he suddenly realized who was with her. “Come out here, tell them that we decided to have the wedding out here in Hawkins because that’s where all my family is. See if you can’t get an extension to plan the wedding.”
“Hold on, cher,” she murmured and put her hand over the speaker. He could hear her clearly but anything he said would be muffled.
Eddie stared down at the papers in his hand with a shattered heart. He could grieve once Chrissy’s dragon was slain.
A minute or so later she came back on.
“Okay, they’ve given me to the end of the month,” she said with a sigh of relief. “Just say the word and I’ll be down there in a flash.”
Eddie waited another moment or two before he said, “Are you alone now?”
Chrissy muttered, “One moment.” He heard the ding of the elevator door open and the sounds of a busy reception hall, then the sounds of a busy street.
She called for a taxi and once the door was closed behind her, she said, “All right, babe, what’s the problem.”
He opened his mouth to tell her but he just broke down.
“I–I thought I was happy in Seattle, but I’ve never felt more alive since coming back here. Seeing old friends, cruising familiar streets. It feels like home. When I first left I didn’t think there was anything in that town that would make me happy.” He let out a shuddering breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “I–I knew that the kids would all leave and they have. But Wayne is still here. Steve and Robin, too. The town has gotten softer. Something I never thought possible. I saw three same sex couples just vibing.”
He choked back a sob. “I thought everything I ever wanted was in Seattle and this trip was just about closing the doors that I left hanging open. Bu–but, oh god!” He threw his head back and covered his eyes. His lips quivered as the pain in his heart spread out through his chest. “Steve is still the one. I know, I know. I talk a lot of shit about love and there not being one person out there who’s your soulmate. but God, Chrissy. He’s it. I felt more myself the last three days then have the last five years.”
He let out another choking sob. “I don’t know what to do. He is like that first ray of sunlight after weeks of storms.”
“Oh, Eddie...” she cried.
“He signed the papers,” Eddie murmured. “And now I wish he hadn’t. I want to just tear up the papers and set fire to them. But I can’t do that to you. I won’t.”
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Tell me what I can do and I’ll do it.”
He just sobbed and sobbed, forcing through the words that would tell her what he needed.
“Let me make a couple of phone calls, okay?” Chrissy said before hanging up.
Eddie murmured his thanks and then let her go. His brain went on autopilot and found himself on the pavement in front of the post office.
He stared at the mailbox in front of him in abject horror.
He had put the divorce papers in the mail and didn’t sign them himself.
****
Chrissy sighed. It was hard on Eddie she knew. He had spent the last decade running from himself and now he was face to face with the best parts of his past, not understanding why it felt so good.
She opened the file on Eddie’s divorce, the annulments had gone through just fine. It was just that one marriage.
She found what she was looking for and dialed the number.
“Sweetie’s Treats,” the female voice said in a faux cheerful customer service voice. “This is Robin what I can I get for you today?”
Chrissy took a deep breath and let out slow. “Hey, I’m Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie’s fianceé. I sorry, but I really need to talk to Steve.”
“Yeah...” Robin said. “No can do.”
Chrissy rubbed her her temple in frustration. “Eddie called me this morning in a hell of state and I just want to talk to Steve. It’s not anything bad, I guess I want to meet the person who has Eddie’s heart.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Robin said, “you can’t talk to him right now because he is working with the large stand mixer.”
Chrissy immediately pictured a KitchenAid mixer and huffed out her frustration. “Can’t he step away from it for a moment?”
“Sorry, no can do,” Robin said tersely. “He’s pouring in the sugar and has to put it in at specific intervals.”
Her temper was fraying with every passing moment with this woman. “Can I call his cellphone and you can hold it up to his ear?”
There was a bark of laughter. “That would also be a no. That thing has eaten three cellphones already and I’m not about to feed the beast another thanks.”
Chrissy blinked for a moment. “Just how big is this mixer anyway?”
This time the laughter was less bitter and more genuine.
“The size of a fifty gallon drum.”
“Oh!”
Robin cackled. “Yeah, when you have to make two hundred cookies, you aren’t going to be using a little electric hand mixer.”
“What kind of cookies?” she asked before she realized what was coming out of her mouth.
“Snickerdoodles,” she said, her grin evident even through the phone.
Chrissy shook her head. She was on a mission, damn it. She wouldn’t let let herself be distracted by baked goods!
“Okay,” she said, shoring herself up for a battle. “How about I talk to you and tell him what I said?”
“Sure,” Robin said. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know the girl who was the cause of Eddie’s bi awakening.”
Chrissy licked her lips slowly. “So about that...”
There was silence on the line long enough that she pulled the phone away to make sure the call was still connected.
“Are you his beard?” came the quiet reply. “Is this a lavender wedding?”
A little bell went off above Chrissy head. Oh. Maybe this wasn’t as hopeless as she thought.
“Yes,” she said, biting the bullet. “But not in the way you think.”
She could almost picture the head tilt of the bird on the other end of the line when Robin said, “Oh? Do tell.”
“Give me a second,” Chrissy said. “My taxi just pulled up to my apartment and I need to pay the driver.”
“Sure.”
Chrissy paid the man and hurried up to the stairs to her apartment, she fitted her keys into the lock and tossed her purse and keys on the table next to the door.
“So here’s the sitch,” she said flopping on her sofa with a heavy sigh.
****
Eddie opened the little door on the front with wide eyes. The door prevented people from sticking his hand in and grabbing it. He grabbed his hair.
“Fuck, fuck!” he cried. This day kept getting worse and worse. He opened the door again, hoping he could see a way to disable it.
He probably could, given the right tool. But as he was looking a little too closely another person walked by and eyed him suspiciously.
“Shit!” He looked down at himself and let loose a string of more colorful curse words.
Eddie looked like he was about to knock off the mailbox and make off with several felonies worth of someone else’s mail.
He was going to start crying again. He gripped his hair tightly as he paced back and forth.
He felt a hand on his elbow and he wasn’t be ashamed to say that the shriek that came out of him was the most emasculating sound in existence.
“Eddie,” Jonathan said. “Shit! I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Once Eddie had landed back on his feet like the scaredy-cat he was, he whirled around to see the oldest Byers boy looking at him with such concern.
“Hey, Johnny,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. God, today is the worst.”
Jonathan huffed a laugh. “You know, you are the only one I’ve ever met who doesn’t call me Jonathan.”
Eddie blushed. “I call everyone nicknames. I can stop if you want.”
Jonathan shook his head. “It was an observation, not a criticism.”
“Someone’s been hanging out with Nancy Wheeler a little too much,” Eddie huffed, already feeling better in the quiet presence of this man.
Jonathan threw his head back and laughed. “I hope so, we’re getting married next year.”
Eddie snapped his fingers. “That’s right. You did tell me that. Shit, man it feels like a life time ago.”
“You still love Steve, don’t you?” he said gently.
Eddie opened his mouth to deny it, but snapped it shut. He waved his hand at the mailbox. “It doesn’t matter. He signed the divorce papers, but my dumbass forgot to sign them too. So I need to get them back, but I don’t how.”
Jonathan smiled and then held up one finger. He went into the post office and five minutes later came out with his mom who carried the biggest key chain he’d ever seen.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Joyce greeted softly. “Let’s get this back for you.”
Eddie told her what it looked like and who it was addressed to.
After a little bit of searching, she turned around with the manilla envelope and handed it back to him.
“Next time,” she said with a smile. “Just come in and ask and we’ll be happy to grab it for you.”
Eddie nodded, clutching it to his chest and thanking her profusely. He took Jonathan out to lunch for the rescue.
They took it and sat on a park bench away from everyone else.
“Thanks for the gallant rescue, man,” Eddie said around his bite of his sandwich. “I was going to have a full blown breakdown right there on Hawkins Main and it wouldn’t have been pretty.”
“It’s no problem,” Jonathan said. “I’m glad it worked out.” He nodded to the papers on the table between them. “You going to sign them?”
Eddie let out a long sigh. “I have to.”
“You keep saying that,” he huffed. “But I don’t think you do. Shit, Eddie. I saw you and him at the carnival and it was like time travel. Like I was transported back a decade when you were both happy and free. He had his face buried in those stuff animals you’d won for him and you looked at him like he’d hung the moon.”
Eddie shook his head. “Look, you can’t tell anyone about this. It’s technically a crime. But it’s the only choice we have. Chrissy was here on a school visa from Barbados and she usually gets a work visa for the summer. Only there was a mix up and she didn’t get her work visa and her school visa is for while she’s at school. Which considering it was only for three months, I figured as long as she didn’t say anything to anyone, she could skate on through.”
“I’m guessing that’s not what happened?” Jonathan pressed. He took a bite of sandwich and nudged Eddie to eat.
Eddie took another bite, but really didn’t taste it. He choked it down around the bile in his throat. He shook his head.
“She works at a law firm,” he said mournfully. “Their HR department found out pretty much immediately. They, of course, alerted Immigration and was told to find another way to get a visa or be sent back to Barbados.”
“Hence getting the married?” Jonathan suggested.
He nodded. “We can’t let anyone know, because then we could get into trouble for fraud or whatever. I do love her, but not like that. Not like Steve.”
Jonathan huffed a laugh. He was silent for a moment and then shook his head sadly. “He went up to Seattle, you know.”
Eddie’s head snapped up. “What? When?”
“Right after you settled up there and started tattooing,” Jonathan said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “He was there for a week. I think he went up there to ask you to come home. But when he found you, he also found a large city and a friendly LGBTQ community and he just couldn’t bare to ask you to return to homophobic Hawkins.”
Eddie’s lip quivered. He hadn’t known. His head spun as his world tilted off its axis.
“When he came back, he couldn’t really tell Robin the truth,” Jonathan continued. “That he couldn’t get up the courage to even see you closer than through the windows of the shop. So he told her he couldn’t find you and then vowed to make something of himself. Something you could be proud of.”
Tears slipped down Eddie’s cheeks and he pressed his hand to his mouth to keep the whimper that tried to escape between his teeth.
“The bakery...” he murmured.
Jonathan nodded. “Him and Robin starting working there together like they always do, to help save up for her to go to college.”
Eddie smiled, a weak, wet, little thing, but it was there. Steve and Robin, two peas in a pod. They always worked together since the summer after Steve graduated and Robin was about to start her senior year. They had worked at an ice cream parlor in the mall. When it burned down just a couple of months later due to shoddy workmanship, they had forged a friendship in literal fire.
“They weren’t intending to make it a permanent thing,” Jonathan continued, breaking into his thoughts. “But Steve’s good. He took a shop that only barely keeping itself in the black and made it into the thriving thing you see today.”
Eddie nodded. He was proud of Steve. And Robin. And all the things they managed to succeed in doing.
Jonathan hugged him tightly. “I won’t say to stay here with Steve and leave your financée to her fate, because that would be cruel and for all your faults, man, you aren’t cruel. And neither am I.”
Eddie let out a shuddering breath. And then another.
“You’ll do the right thing,” Jonathan said. “You might not figure it out right away, but somehow you always manage to get to the right thing in the end.”
Eddie finished his sandwich and thanked him for everything. Just being there when he needed someone.
And as he drove away from the park he felt lighter than he had in years.
****
I realize that that's probably not how visas work, but I'm just gonna hand wave that away for the drama.
Tag List: SIX SLOTS OPEN
Part 9 Part 10
1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @ravenfrog @zerokrox-blog
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi
3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @mac-attack19
4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1
5- @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt
6- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95
7- @blackpanzy @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras
8- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites
9- @blondie1006 @stripey82 @w1ll0wtr33 @mcenziehughes
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Hiiii! Could you do some more Hazbin hotel headcanons? Just who you see as caregivers and littles!
Hazbin Hotel Agere Headcanons!
A/N: Oooh yesyesyes!! I love Hazbin. My hyperfixation on it is starting to come back HARD. Also this will be a mix of character x character and character x reader simply based on vibes. :3
Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husk, Angel Dust, and Nifty!
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Charlie
Caregiver! She’s like a mom. She loves taking care of others and she’s honestly an amazing caregiver. Like the best ever. Very encouraging and very good at comforting.
Vaggie is her little.
Does well with littles of all ages! But does prefer a little bit if you’re old enough to go out on adventures with her without her having to worry about it too much. :)
Calls you things like “Sweetheart” and “Little one”
Not very strict at all. Just sets a bedtime and makes sure you eat well!
Just overall extremely sweet and loving.
Vaggie
Little. Very reserved and quiet when she’s little. Doesn’t speak much. Prefers to be private about it and gets overstimulated very easy. Not gonna write too much about her because I’ve already made headcanons on her and I don’t wanna sound like a broken record!
Little ages are 4-5 and her caregiver is Charlie!
She likes playing with other littles sometimes. Not for too long, though, because hanging out with people drains her social battery easily. But she still loves playing!
Calls Charlie “Mama” and is very clingy to her, especially in public. She likes when Charlie sings to her. It calms her down a lot. :)
Doesn’t really like rules very much. Not because she’s a troublemaker or anything, rules just make her anxious and she feels a lot of pressure to follow them.
She’s a very shy, awkward baby but she’s adorable!
Alastor
Caregiver. He’s my caregiver actually it’s canon in case you guys didn’t know. He’s violent and manipulative with everyone else, but with you he’s sweet and gentle. He’s EXTREMELY protective, though. Like anybody looks at you wrong and they won’t be heard from ever again.
He’s not a caregiver for anyone except you. You’re the only one he’ll take care of like that.
Does well with littles of all ages but since I’m projecting, I’m gonna say he likes more dependent littles, so like…0-3. He thinks it’s so cute when you babble and waddle and want him to pick you up.
When you babble, he’ll nod his head and be like “mhm…mhm…oh wow!” like he’ll just play along.
He’s also really good at understanding your baby talk. He analyzes and takes note of your baby talk and your mannerisms.
Sometimes if you’re babbling and your babbles are in like…a passionate or aggressive tone, he’ll hold his microphone up to you. Just because he thinks it’s funny.
He loves playing with you and walking around the hotel with you. His little shadow thing plays with you a lot.
He buys you toys, pacifiers, coloring books, anything you want or need!
He’ll use his powers to like. Sing and dress you up and be super dramatic with you. Like that scene in Hazbin where he starts singing and prancing around and changes everyone’s outfits lol.
Calls you things like “Darling”, “my dear”, “beloved”, “sweetheart”, etc.
Likes being called parental names or just “Al”. :)
Very strict. Has a bedtime for you, sets mealtimes, makes you hold his hand around the hotel or outside in general. Also no TV. He does not like TV. :(
But that’s okay, he puts on the radio for you! You can sing and dance around to songs. :3
Overall a very loving and protective caregiver!
Husk
Caregiver. He’s like Haymitch from The Hunger Games. At first he acts annoyed and displeased, but he grows fond of you and enjoys taking care of you and he ends up being a really good caregiver!
He’s your caregiver and sometimes he babysits Angel Dust if Cherri Bomb is busy or just not around.
Does a bit better with slightly older littles. Like 6+ years old. It’s just because they tend to be more independent and whenever you’re regressed, he has to be able to trust you to not get into things you’re not supposed to. Like if he’s watching over you while at work, he needs to trust you to not get into the alcohol lol.
He likes physical affection and needs to have you around him no matter what, surprisingly enough. He’s super soft with you and if anyone else confronts him about it, he’ll tell them to F off and insist that it’s not because he’s clingy; he just risk a child messing things up if he’s not watching them, that’s all!
STRUGGLES with deciphering baby talk and it’s really funny and also another reason why he does better with older littles.
Likes calmer activities. Like if he’s at work, you can sit at the bar coloring or doing a puzzle or something and he’s perfectly content with that! When he isn’t at work, he likes having you in his lap while you color or play. He also really likes cuddles.
He himself tends to act out and be aggressive as a defense mechanism, so he’s actually really understanding when it comes to temper tantrums! He’ll ask you why it is you’re mad and then he’ll try to comfort you.
Like if you throw a fit because you wanted something but couldn’t have it, he’ll straight up gentle parent you. He’ll be like “I understand that you’re mad, and you’re having big feelings right now because you really wanted that, but that is not an option right now.” and then he’ll give you choices of something else you can have or do.
He’ll call you like a shortened version of your name or something related to your personality!
Idk how to explain it but as an example, because I love jellyfish and I go by jellyfish, he’d call me Jelly or something!
He likes any name you give him, although it takes him a bit to warm up to more parental ones! It isn’t that he doesn’t like it, quite the opposite, actually, he’s just not at all used to somebody trusting him like that.
Also pretty strict. Has a nonnegotiable bedtime, makes sure you eat enough and on time, not afraid to put you in time out or take away desert, etc. He isn’t mean, just protective.
He does not trust ANYBODY to babysit you, which is why you tend to sit at the bar right in front of him while he works. If he absolutely HAS to leave you with somebody, he’ll leave you with Charlie, and even then it’s very rare.
Angel Dust
Okay so I don’t really write for Angel Dust, as I’m not really sure how to. Characterize him. I don’t know how to write him very well and I deeply apologize for that. He’s just a very feminine and stereotypical gay man and I don’t wanna somehow be weird. Especially since I’ve seen a lot of gay men say they don’t like the way Angel is written. 😭
That being said, I think if anything he would be a little. Purely involuntary trauma regression. Regression is a trauma response for him and often times, whenever he’s little, he’ll be in his bed, holding Nuggets (I think that’s its name…), and just crying. :(
When he is feeling better and it’s one of the better days, he’s a troublemaker! His little age is around 6 and he’ll run around pulling pranks and generally causing chaos. Alastor isn’t his caregiver or even his babysitter by any means, but if Alastor picks up on it, he absolutely encourages Angel to just. Be a menace.
You have to have rules for him. Like you HAVE to. And even then it’s not like he doesn’t break them a lot. You have to put him in time out and take away TV privileges or send him to bed early a lot.
Cherri Bomb is his caregiver, and she’s like a big sister to him. He calls her “big sis” and “sissy”. She calls him “rascal” and “troublemaker”.
Likes playing with other littles but he can get a bit too rough sometimes. He’s just not very good with interacting with people, but he’s trying!
Overall just a very silly and mischievous little. :)
Nifty
So, I feel like, if anything, she’d be a babysitter! Like she thinks littles and age regression are adorable but she will absolutely encourage acting out. 😭
She’d set up littles to act out, actually. She’d be like “Hey…you wanna go prank Alastor?? :3” and it’s always disastrous 😭😭😭
Does well with littles of all ages! Either way, she’s gonna be like that one aunt that gives your kid a LOT of sugar right before sending them home lol.
Probably mostly babysits Alastor’s little but isn’t his first choice for. Obvious reasons. But if Rosie isn’t available, then he’ll let Nifty or Charlie babysit and if it’s her, all hell breaks loose.
She plays with you a lot. She’ll join in on games of play pretend and even make up story lines! She’ll read you books, color with you, help name your stuffies, etc!
Sorry I’ve written so little for her. I’m not really sure how to characterize her either but I’ll probably update this entire thing once the first season of the show comes out! :)
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seiya-starsniper · 1 month
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Six Degrees of Separation - Ch 6 COMPLETED
(Sandman x Dead Boy Detectives)
Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Crystal Palace/Charles Rowland (DCU), Johanna Constantine/Jenny Green
Rating: Teen & Up | Chapters 6/6 | Words: 12K
Tags: POV Multiple, Hob Gadling gives live advice to a bunch of teenagers, while helping them solve cases, that's it that's the fic, also he maybe plays matchmaker for his hot mess bestie, fic starts out as crystal/charles and ends with charles/edwin, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Hob Gadling adopts the Dead Boy Detectives
Tumblr Posts: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5
Read Chapter 6 below, or at the above link on AO3
A year after Hob’s adopted three teenagers and a full grown adult as his unintentional, supernatural crime-solving family, a small Japanese girl walks into his pub covered in glitter and blood.
And she's with Dream , of all people. Dream, who looks like someone had run him through a blender and spat him out the wrong way. He’s not covered in the same glittering blood as his mysterious companion, but his messy black hair is even more wild and unkempt than normal, and the exhausted look on his face tells Hob he’s just gotten himself out of one hell of a situation and needs to talk about it. 
Well, at least the pub was completely empty so that made things easy. Which, now that Hob thinks about it, was probably intentional intervention on Dream’s part.
“Hello old friend,” Hob greets Dream with a wave as they approach the bar, where he’s cleaning and drying off some pint glasses. Hob turns his gaze down towards the girl, who for all intents and purposes appears human, but somehow still looks like someone out of a cartoon with bubblegum pink hair that is definitely not wig, and wide, iridescent blue eyes a shade of blue he’s pretty sure does not exist in normal human eyes. “And you are—?”
“You don’t look like you’re over 600 years old,” the girl says bluntly, shocking Hob enough that he nearly drops the glass he’s holding. “You’re not feeding children to a giant snake to look young too, are you?” she asks him. 
“Niko,” Dream growls at the girl and Hob’s brain short-circuits even further as he processes the name. “That is not what I told you.”
Hob gapes for a solid minute looking back and forth between the two of them as Dream and Niko (Niko? Niko?!) start arguing about the semantics of immortality. 
“You said he was immortal, so I was expecting a wise old man!” Niko exclaims, gesturing a glittery blood-soaked mitten in Hob’s direction. “Not a guy who looks like a middle school teacher! Esther had to eat kids to look like that!”
“Hob is not eating children,” Dream replies with an exasperated sigh, resting a palm over his head. “For the last time Niko, my sister—”
“Niko? As in Niko Sasaki?” Hob blurts out, interrupting their conversation because otherwise his brain is going to explode. Both Dream and Niko whip their heads at him in surprise. 
“Niko Sasaki with the weirdly large manga collection?” Hob continues as his brain recounts every single thing he’s heard about the girl in the past year. “Niko who tried to set Jenny up with a serial killer and it didn’t quite go as planned? Niko with the parasite fairies that lived inside her for months?”
“You know who I am?” Niko gasps. She turns to Dream, who looks just as shocked as she does. “How does he know me?” she demands. “Wait!” she exclaims before Dream can even reply, turning back to face Hob. “Are you psychic too?”
“No, but I know one who will be very happy to see you,” Hob answers, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here I’ve heard so much about—oh shit wait! JENNY! GET OUT HERE!” Hob yells at the top of his lungs, remembering belatedly that there was someone in The New Inn right now that would be thrilled to see Niko.
“ Jenny ?” Niko practically shrieks, and both Hob and Dream wince at the high pitched sound. “Jenny’s in London? Wait, why is Jenny in London?”
“Moved over here with Crystal and the boys,” Hob says. “Oy, Jenny!” he calls out again, and this time, the American comes rushing out of the kitchen, looking extremely annoyed but also alarmed.
“What? What’s happening? Are we under attack aga—” she goes silent when she sees Niko. “Niko?” she whispers. 
“Oh my god, Jenny!” Niko cries out, which seems to break Jenny out of her trance. Suddenly, the two girls are rushing towards each other, collapsing into a pile on the floor as they hug and sob. 
“Oh my god is that blood and glitter on you?” Jenny says. “What the fuck? Are you alive? Am I dead? Oh God, I’m dead aren’t I? I can see the grim reaper right over there,” she adds, noticing Dream for the first time as she clutches Niko desperately to her.
Niko giggles. “No silly, that’s Dream. He just looks like that,” she says, gesturing to the Endless, and Hob can’t help but laugh at Dream's dour expression. He’d thought Dream was the embodiment of Death once upon a time because of that face too. “He’s the one who helped me get back to Earth!”
“Back to—where the hell have you been, Niko?” Jenny asks incredulously.
“No, not Hell silly, I was in the Dreaming!” Niko answers brightly. “Although Hell did try to take over, which is why it took so long for me to get back.”
“Hell did what now ?” Hob cuts in, suddenly feeling quite faint. He’s quite glad he’s still behind the bar, else he may have also collapsed on the floor himself. 
“It is,” Dream says with a deep and weary sigh, “quite the tale. It seems you have your own stories to share as well, my friend.”
“I—yeah I do. I’ll close the bar and call the boys and Crystal,” Hob replies. “Best if we get both stories out in one go, I think.”
“Agreed.”
-------------------------
There's a lot of screaming and crying that follows, and Hob is pretty certain he's going to be hard of hearing for the next few days while his eardrums recover. He doesn't mind though. Not when the kids all look so happy.
Niko's soul, it turns out, had been blasted to an entirely different dimension when she’d died, and that had been due to the cocktail of magical essences Niko had been carrying on her person unknowingly at the time. A lucky charm in the shape of a polar bear from someone named Tragic Mick had protected her from the magic that Esther the Witch had used to kill her, but then that magic had collided with the magic of the dandelion sprites. Apparently, when Litty and Kingham left Niko’s body without killing her, they had left some of their essence behind in her body, forging a connection that forced them to go wherever she went. And if all that wasn’t complicated enough, there was also apparently a cursed magic 8-ball! Hob’s really not sure how that played a part in anything, but according to Dream and Niko, the fact that she’d carried it with her at the time was vital to her transformation.
Which is to say, Niko Sasaki was no longer necessarily human. At least, not human by this dimension’s standards. Apparently her hair had once been black, then bleached blonde when the sprites had left her body, and now this newest brush with her own mortality had left her hair bright pink, and her eyes a glowing blue. Apparently it gave her the ability to see in the dark, and also sometimes see the future, amongst other abilities that she and Dream were still discovering.
In short, as she described it, Niko had become “a magical school girl! Without the weird uniform though. But all the cool magic!” 
Dream had come across her when she’d attempted to get back to the reality she knew. Her transformation had given her the ability to dimension walk, though she didn’t know that’s what she was doing when she’d been drawn to the gates of the Dreaming. She’d only walked towards something that felt like home to her, and the gates of the Dreaming, also recognizing Niko as one of its original inhabitants, had swung open easily to let her and the sprites inside. 
Dream himself had not been so welcoming at first. He’d taken Niko’s accidental wandering as intentional trespassing with an intent to invade. Niko and the sprites had tried to explain themselves, but they didn’t get very far before an actual threat to the Dreaming appeared in the form of Lucifer Morningstar and their generals from Hell. Although they were not obligated to, all three joined the battle against Hell, Niko because she felt it was the right thing to do, while Litty and Kingham claimed Hell was no place for faeries. 
In the end, however, the sprites had perished during the battle, giving up their lives and the last of their magic for Niko, which is why she was covered in glittering blood. Apparently, sprite blood doesn’t wash out, but would fade on its own over time. Since Litty and Kingham had died within the boundaries of the Dreaming, Dream had offered them a permanent place in his realm as residents, as gratitude for their sacrifice. They had chosen to become nightmares, which, according to Niko and the others, was entirely appropriate considering their personalities.
Hob’s head is spinning by the time Dream and Niko finish recounting the tale. Edwin and Charles immediately start asking dozens of questions about Niko’s time in another dimension, while Crystal and Jenny bracket the girl on each side, holding her tightly as if she may disappear again if they weren’t around to tether her to this dimension. Johanna shows up at some point to be moral support for her girlfriend too, and further breaks Hob’s brain by confirming she too had been blasted to another dimension due to magic spells gone wrong.
Hob should maybe update his wards to include prevention against interdimensional travel. He’ll figure out the how of that later, though. Right now, tonight was a night for celebrating, school night be damned. It does not escape his notice that he’s the only one of their group that even has to worry about that.
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Hours later, Hob finds himself alone at the new Inn with Dream, cleaning up dishes and putting away the chairs for the night. The others had offered at first to help clean up, but Hob had insisted they all go home and rest, but Dream had insisted that he would stay behind to help clean up and well, Hob’s never been able to deny Dream anything. 
Hob hadn’t missed the pointed looks Crystal and Edwin had given him as she and the others had filed out of the pub, nor the curious look from Jenny, and most certainly not the look of abject horror from Johanna. Charles and Niko had been the worst offenders, both giving him two obnoxious thumbs up on their way out. Hob doesn’t even know Niko, this was just getting embarrassing at this point. Everyone seemed to have some sort of opinion on Hob’s relationship (no, not a situationship) with Dream.
Hob really only cares about one person’s opinion though, and he’s currently staring at Hob as he finishes wiping down the tables, the last activity left before he closes up for the night.
“You did a good thing, reuniting those kids,” Hob says to Dream as he tosses his rag on the counter and turns to face his friend. “I've never seen them so happy.”
Dream hums contemplatively. “I hardly did anything,” he replies, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It was Niko's determination alone that carried her as far as it did, and her bravery that kept my realm from falling. I simply delivered her back to the Waking World.”
“I’m glad she was here, to have your back,” Hob says. “And I’m glad you brought her here. I know you said earlier you didn’t know the kids were here, but did you really not notice?”
“I did not,” Dream admits. “I have been—preoccupied with many things as of late. I simply brought Niko to where I knew for certain that she would be safe. Cared for.” 
“I’m honored,” Hob replies, grinning from ear to ear. “That you’d consider me a good caretaker for her. I would hope you know I’d be happy to care for you too, should you ever need it.”
“I am—aware,” Dream says, his cheeks taking on the slightest hue of pink. Hob briefly wonders if Dream blushes everywhere on his body, or only just on his face. Then he feels his own face heat up as his mind goes off in other directions.  
“Would you like to come upstairs?” Hob asks, trying to distract himself from his wandering thoughts, but then he realizes just how suggestive his invitation sounds and blushes even more. “I mean, I uh, if you don’t have anywhere to be I’d uhm—I’d like to keep talking,” he adds quickly, trying and failing to banish thoughts of what they could be doing in Hob’s flat other than talking . Christ, this was his oldest friend, not some girl he was trying to take to bed for the night. Dream doesn’t respond right away to Hob’s question, only tilts his head at him as if assessing something that Hob cannot see. 
“Hob Gadling,” Dream finally says, his voice suddenly serious. “You are aware I can see into daydreams as well as sleeping ones?”
Shit. 
Well cat’s out of the bag then. Might as well own up to it. Crystal’s never going to let him live this down, Hob knows.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Hob says, before taking a deep breath to calm the rapid beating of his heart. “I really did want to just talk, I promise. I’m a grown man, Dream I know how to take a rejection. I’m happy for just your company, and friendship.” He means every single word of it too, and if Dream didn’t believe him, he could apparently just read his mind to find out. 
“Hmmm,” Dream replies, before he takes one, two, three wide steps into Hob’s personal space. Hob inhales sharply, tasting petrichor and stars and infinity in that single breath. 
“I have been made aware recently,” Dream continues after a moment, looking up at Hob from his eyelashes, “that I carry a lot of ‘baggage’, as Niko likes to put it.”
“We all have our burdens,” Hob replies, with a shrug. “I'd help you carry yours, if you'd let me. Or well, if I could.”
“No,” Dream says. “I asked another once, if she would be my queen, and share that burden with me. She told me the burden would be too great for her, or any mortal.”
“Dream,” Hob starts, more ready to make his case. “I could—”
“No,” Dream interrupts, shaking his head, his gaze suddenly faraway as he recalls what Hob assumes to be a painful memory. “She was right. I would not ask you to take such a responsibility. It would fundamentally change you and leave you unable to live your life as you have been accustomed to these past centuries.”
“But?” Hob asks knowing there is a but in Dream’s tone. Dream sighs, before he meets Hob’s eyes again, his gaze clearer and perhaps a bit…hopeful?
“But perhaps…maybe coffee?” Dream asks shyly. Hob laughs. 
“Did you learn that from Niko too?” Hob teases him.
“In a way,” Dream answers, cryptic as ever. “If you are willing to be patient with me, Hob, I would gladly cherish you as both a friend and… something more than that,” he adds, and Hob’s heart soars. “There are limitations, however, and I—”
“Dream,” Hob interrupts. “Remember how we started? A hundred years between each meeting? That was enough.” He takes Dream's hand into his and kisses it, then moves his lips across each individual knuckle. 
“I don't know how relationships with anthropomorphic personifications are supposed to work, but I know it won't be what I'm used to,” Hob confesses. “And it's okay, Dream. It's enough for me, just to know that you feel something for me too. We can figure the rest out later.”
“You are too free with your affections,” Dream tells him, but there’s no real reproach in his voice.
“Maybe,” Hob replies. “But I have a lot of love to give, what with living forever and all. Let me show you just how much?” he adds, this time unashamedly letting his daydreams unspool from his mind. The innocent and dirty alike. Dream’s eyes widen as he seems to physically taste Hob’s dreams, before his eyes darken and he squeezes Hob’s hand in turn.
“Lead the way then,” Dream says, his lips quirking just the slightest bit into a playful smile. Hob kisses Dream's hand once more and winks, before leading the Endless upstairs to end the night.
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mistydeyes · 1 year
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take a walk in my shoes
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summary: With the 141 boys home and relaxing in your embrace, you decide to show them a day in your life. A sequel to opposite occupations.
pairing: 141 x civvie! fem!Reader (established relationship)
warnings: swearing, mentions of tattooing (tattoo guns and needles), but like before all fluff!
a/n: i love our lil squad of civilian significant others and thought a sequel needed to be made for our faves :)
🏷️ @fan-of-encouragement - thanks for giving me some ideas for price and the florist!
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watching love bloom - price x florist!
Ever since you first met, Price had been a tremendous help with the management of your shop. You had been going steady for a year now, "10 years in military time" Price would say. Although, it was as if you both were practically married. Besides hosting dinners and communicating with the other civilian girlfriends (in a group chat called "almost military wives🪖💍"), you lived like an old, married couple. Together, you and Price owned a small cottage placed in the English countryside. It was idyllic as Price could spend his evenings on the porch with a smoke and you could tend to a growing flower garden. Price requested some design choices but overall you furnished the home with items curated for the two of you. Your house was constantly filled with life, a new bouquet always resting on the table, and many thriving houseplants. Price would always joke that the plants were like your children especially when you went to water some and even sang to them.
Upon Price’s return to your shared home, he could tell something was on your mind. The living room was a mess with written notes and sketches as well as many sample flower bouquets.
“Darling I’m home!” he called setting his things down. He wondered where you could be. Suddenly you came from the backyard with an armful of flowers and your phone balanced between your ear and shoulder. When you saw him, you almost dropped your trimmings but Price moved to you and caught them.
“I’m glad you liked the arrangements, I’ll have them ready tomorrow,” you sighed before the other person on the line hung up.
After bombarding him with many kisses, he reminded you that the flowers were wilting with the lack of hydration.
“Who was that before?” he asked as he filled some buckets with water for you.
“It’s a bride from London, she and her partner are getting married in town. Funny enough, they started dating because of my little flower sign.” you chuckled as you began to prune the leaves and trim the stems from your haul. “Ah sounds like someone I know,” he said, gently kissing your forehead.
“As much as I enjoy the celebration of love and business, it’s been a whirlwind. You wouldn’t imagine how many phone calls and test runs I’ve had.” It was no exaggeration, these last few weeks had been a living hell as you helped the couple make their final preparations.
“Let me help you out tomorrow, got nothing better to do” he offered as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. “You really don’t have to” you replied but he could see the stress this was putting on you. “Darling, there is nothing more that I would love than spending time with you and seeing you at work.”
You and Price woke up bright and early at 5 am. The sun crept on your sleeping face as he gently woke you. After some necessary coffee, you and Price opened your shop. You went to work, grabbing buckets of flowers from the fridge. You loved the brides but this order was shipped to you from a farm, one currently not being met with the cold, autumn temperatures. As you trimmed the summery array of dahlias, hydrangeas, and cosmos, Price helped to move the never-ending buckets and took care of the growing piles of trash. You were in the middle of showing him how to assemble a bridesmaid bouquet when you heard the door open.
"Fuck, can you take care of that?" you asked as you glanced at the clock, the wedding slowly approaching. "Love, what did I tell you when we first met?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I am not a man for flowers" you both said in unison. You continued, "Please John? I have a list underneath the counter detailing the different flowers for occasions. You got this!" you placed a small kiss on his lips, knowing he would do whatever you asked.
He nodded and exited to the front. When he emerged, he could see an elderly woman. "Can you help me pick out flowers? My grandson just got a new job and is moving here tomorrow" she sweetly asked. "Oh and young man, I just need them wrapped. No arranging necessary" she continued and you could hear Price rifling around for your book. Miraculously through your notebook's guidance and some of your aesthetic impressed on him, he was able to help her pick out a colorful array of peonies, tulips, and chrysanthemums - a perfect combination for a congratulations gift. You made sure to shout out from the back that he should include some wisterias and eucalyptus as a nice welcome message. You caught a glance at the bouquet and you were happy to see that the lilac hydrangeas with the orange ballerina tulips were balanced with the magenta chrysanthemums and the bundles of wisteria and eucalyptus. You can safely say, the one thing he was a natural at was tying up the loose stems. You guess his training did come in handy.
As you finished making the final additions to your bouquet, you heard Price making conversation with the older woman. “Young man, I hope you have a sweetheart at home waiting for you,” she said as you peeked and saw him handing her a bouquet. “I do actually, she reminds me that there’s more to life than destruction,” he said and you could’ve married him on the spot. The old woman wished him well as you heard the sound of her exit.
As you exited from the back, you planted a kiss on his cheek. “What’s that for?” he asked. “For being the boyfriend and employee” you smiled back at him, admiring his face that shined in the afternoon light. “Might have to change positions soon,” he joked and while you initially thought he meant employment, you realized it was something else as a more than year later he proposed. Don’t worry, he let you handle the wedding floral arrangements.
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two inked hearts - soap x tattoo artist!
Although Soap had his own home, he always managed to end up at yours when he was on leave. This time was no different but unfortunately, the short notice did not allow you to take off of work. You had two customs the next day and four flash works as well.
As you were enjoying your beer, you heard the front door unlock. Knowing who it was, you walked to the entrance and saw your boyfriend standing there. Although he appeared tired and a bit grimy, his face lit up when he saw you. He kicked off his snow covered boots and dropped his duffle. He held his arms out and you immediately embraced him.
After many kisses, you lightly punched his chest. "I didn't know you were coming home so early!" you said, slightly pouting. "Well is that any way to greet a soldier," he replied and you couldn't help but smile as you missed his loving accent. "I would have called off work tomorrow," you began to say before he interrupted. "Work doesn't have to stop because I'm home, lass. I'll just go to work," he said as you pondered this decision. It was clear, he didn’t want your busy schedule to get in his way and would follow you around like a lost puppy. "I mean if the shop and the patrons don't mind, then I guess," you said back, ecstatic he would see you in your element. "Until then, you're all mine, Bonnie" he laughed before picking you up and sat you both back on the couch.
After a rushed morning, trying to get the man to let you out of bed, you showed up to work. It was winter so to Soap's dismay, you were unable to showcase all your amazing tattoos. He did insist on matching outfits. So emerging from the winter cold, you entered both wearing matching beanies and winter coats. Upon your arrival, one of your fellow artists warmly greeted Soap and commented on how cute you both were. After some catching up, you went to set up your station. Soap followed you and watched as you got your tattoo gun and the inks you would be using for the first customer. He held your waist as you sterilized the area. "My beautiful artist," he cheekily said and you rolled your eyes.
Now you were no idiot, there was no way anyone would let him tattoo them. Although his signature mohawk made him fit in with the shop's patrons. Knowing he would eventually become bored after watching you, you left him with a sketch pad and pens in a corner of your room. Your first client of the day was one of your frequent patrons. They had decided on one of your flash pieces, a hand holding a bouquet of rosemary leaves, on their thigh. As you got them comfortable in the chair, you gave Soap a quick peck and began the process. You would occasionally glance over and see him drawing with a concentrated look. “From strong, protective boyfriend to a child in seconds,” you mumbled and earned a hearty laugh from your patron.
And so the day continued, you tattooing away and Soap drawing in the corner. He would occasionally ask you what the different needle gun sizes were for and how you were able to create custom works for clients. He even conversed with another soldier getting a bicep tattoo of a skull with snakes surrounding it. You thought the idea was badass, complimenting his choice. Almost immediately, Soap interjected to say his tattoo was the best compared to the one they were getting. Eventually, once you were done for the day, you walked to Soap to see what he was drawing. You snatched the paper and in return, he pulled you into his lap.
"Well, what do we have here, my tattoo apprentice?" you asked, holding up the paper. As you looked at each drawing, you could see some familiar faces. You couldn't help but laugh when you say "You have to pay the" with Price's face following the words. He even managed to draw what looked like a depiction of Simon underneath his mask as well as Price in a florist's apron in front of his girlfriend's shop.
Your favorite was the bar of soap he had drawn in the corner with a surprising amount of detail. "You know with this work and the fact they call you 'Soap', I would think you wouldn't be as smelly," you joked. "I thought it was cool at first, they all said it was because I'm good at cleaning house but I see what you mean," he said, slightly embarrassed. You kissed him gently before telling him it was time to return to your warm bed.
Weeks later, you texted Soap a picture of your new tattoo. It was the sketch he had drawn of the bar of soap. You had done it yourself, his drawing placed on your forearm. He loved it, proudly showing it off to the other 141 boys and anyone who listened. He even was sure to text Alejandro and Rudy a picture with the caption "mira el nuevo tatuaje de mi novia!". He did ignore the reply from Alejandro that asked, “¿por qué la chica inteligente se tatuaría una barra de jabón?”
translations: mira el nuevo tatuaje de mi novia! - look at my girlfriend's new tattoo!
¿por qué una chica inteligente se tatuaría una barra de jabón? - why would a smart girl get a bar of soap tattooed on her?
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being the teacher's pet - gaz x teacher!
"You know the kids always ask about you," you told Gaz as you lay leisurely on his couch. It was a Sunday and you both were enjoying each other's presence before the school week. He came home on Friday and you welcomed him home with a cooked meal and his favorite bottle of wine. The entire weekend was filled with cuddling on the couch and catching up about the last couple of months. You laughed when he told you of Soap's girlfriends tattoo. You joked wishing he had a cooler call sign so you could get it tattooed. Since your first date, you both had established a comfortable long distance relationship but you always loved when he was home.
"I could make an appearance," he joked. As you lay on his chest, you could feel him laughing lightly. He would come to regret that statement as you begged him to visit the class the next day. After some convincing, he obliged unable to deny your sweet face.
The next day, you stopped by Kyle’s flat for some morning coffee. As you opened the door, you could see him standing by the hallway mirror making sure he looked presentable. You smiled, noting he was wearing the beige button-up and navy blue sports coat you had bought him. You suddenly felt underdressed in your green slacks and brown blouse.
“You look great, Kyle, let’s go get something to drink” you spoke and he looked at you with his charming smile that brightened the room. He took your hand gently and you walked to the local coffee shop. It was spring and you couldn't help but admire the new blooms on the trees. Once you both arrived, you enjoyed your morning brew as he sipped his tea. You wished he could stay home forever as he looked so relaxed in the early morning sun. However, you suddenly were reminded of the time and kissed him on the cheek, reiterating that he should be at school for snack time.
Once you arrived at the school, you went about your typical routine and eventually, it was time to begin your lessons. You went through your plan, teaching your students basic arrhythmic in the morning. As snack time approached, you smiled knowing you'd make your students' day.
“Alright, class! I have a surprise for you” you eagerly said. Gaz was on the other side of the classroom door, smiling as he heard your enthusiastic voice. “We have a special guest today who’s going to join us for snack time!”
With that, you whisked open the door and Gaz walked into the cheers of the children. He had two lunchboxes in his hand and your heart melted. The entire class wanted Gaz to sit with them so you decided to form them into a circle so everyone could enjoy his presence. You opened the lunchbox to reveal a variety of strawberries and watermelon, delicately cut into hearts. As everyone ate their snacks, one of your students asked if Gaz would be teaching them today.
"Well I'm sure Mr. Military Man could teach you some things while we eat," you winked looking at Gaz. The children were giddy with excitement and kept begging Gaz to teach them some military things. Not wanting to expose them to the horrors of his job, he simply taught them the military alphabet and assigned them all code names. He carefully assigned one to each kid based on their personalities as well as some stories you had told him. As you watched your boyfriend methodically assign the names, you softly chuckled to yourself. In another life, Gaz would be an amazing teacher as he was great with the kids.
Once snack time was over, you let the children know they would be doing some quiet reading before practicing some of their writing skills. Gaz sat on the edge of your desk as you answered some emails from parents.
You both then heard a child whisper, "Goose, can we swap books? I finished mine." Her friend replied, "Shhh, Maverick I'm almost done." You let out a small laugh, enjoying the subtle nod to the Top Gun movie.
"Goose, you can get another book from the cubby" you said as the other children continued reading. Looking over to Gaz you gave him a smile. “Thanks for doing this, babes,” you said and placed your hand on top of his. The moment was momentarily spoiled when he whispered, “So when are we going to have our army of kids?”
Upon Gaz’s next return from the 141, he found his apartment filled with framed drawings from the children. You had surprised him with it and all of your students were more than happy to participate. Each one of them wrote their names at the bottom along with their call sign. They all had one theme: “Miss Y/N and her husband.”
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a purr-fect romance - ghost x veterinarian!
"How's my favorite patient doing?" you ask as you see Ghost with Earl Grey in his arms. Simon had come home just in time to enjoy the beginning of summer and the clear skies. He was dressed in a neutral-colored t-shirt and shorts, enjoying the nice weather you recently had been having. He even had put Earl in a small straw hat you had bought. You loved seeing him look like a little beach-goer.
“I’m doing well, love,” he said and gave you a peck on the cheek. As soon as he got close to you, Earl Grey tried to leap on you. “Well hello to you, Earl” you smiled as Ghost gently handed him to you.
In the last two years, Earl and Simon had become your home. You and Simon owned a flat down the street, a lovely commute for you to the office and a place of solace for him. When you began to furnish your home, you were astonished at how little he had in personal items and how much he had for Earl. Maybe it was due to all this spoiling that Earl had a clear love for Ghost. When he would leave for deployment, Earl would find his way to sneak in between you both in bed. One time Ghost snuck out of bed and was able to capture an image of you sleeping on your stomach with Earl resting on your back. Although you said you looked like a hot mess with your sprawled figure and crazy hair, Ghost treasured the photo and printed out a small copy to keep with him at all times. Despite this domestic life, Ghost would always insist on bringing Earl Grey to your office whenever he was home. It would be easier to just have you bring him in with you for his check-up but you secretly loved seeing your boyfriend in your office.
“Just a check-up and vaccine for us today, Doc” Ghost said as you checked them in. It was later in the afternoon and you had sent your assistants home as the only patient was Earl for the rest of the day. Plus, you knew they would love to enjoy the warm evening around town. “Actually, would you like to see what I do?” you asked. He nodded and you could tell he was curious.
You lead him to one of the rooms as you donned your coat and gloves of your own. You gently placed Earl down and went through the motions, showing Ghost how you typically performed an exam. You let him listen to Earl's heartbeat with your stethoscope and described to him what things to look for when examining his coat, ears, eyes, and mouth.
"Well I'm happy to say, Mr. Riley, that your cat is in perfect health," you smiled at him and you raised your hand in front of Earl to receive a high five. "Now just for that rabies shot," you said and you pulled out the materials from around the office.
As you drew up the vaccine, Ghost entertained Earl with one of the many ribbon teaser toys lying around. You laughed as you saw Earl going crazy for the thing. Finally ready, you let Ghost pet him as you found the best area on Earl's right hind leg to administer. Setting him on his side, your heart warmed hearing him purr gently into Simon's arms.
"Alright, Earl, this will be real quick," you said and you quickly administered the shot. Earl whined and Ghost tried his best, gently saying to him, "It's okay bud, the lovely doc is almost done." With that, you finished and allowed Earl to return to his toys as you cleaned up.
Ghost picked Earl back up and you closed up the office. As you walked home in the balmy night air, Ghost was clearly in a cheery mode. "You're so great with animals, when are we-" he began to joke before you stopped him. "We can think about adopting maybe another kitten. I swear if you make Kyle's joke about having an army of them, then you can live in a house with them while his girlfriend and I live in our clean flat." With that, he laughed and wrapped a free arm around you. You wondered how life could be so perfect. You lived with your soulmate, taking care of an animal who loved you both and got to end the night with long conversations over some tea. You smiled up at him, content with your loving boyfriend and his cat child.
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mostly-imagines · 2 months
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Things I’ve Heard Kids Say This Summer:
6 year old: “the good thing about kids is it takes them a really long time to die.”
3 year old: “do you know what 100 + 100 is? 200. do you know what 1,000,000 + 1,000,000 is? 6,000,000.”
my coworker: “whats your least favorite food?” 3 year old: “…poison.” coworker: “that’s not a food.” 3 year old: “…poison apple.”
6 year old: “i can say bad words at home. my mom and dad let me say whatever I want. but not the n word, my mom would be mad. but I would never say that.”
me, explaining why i have my hair up in the pool: “i dont want it to get messed up” 4 year old: “it’s already messed up”
*same 4 year old sits next to me* me: “oh! you sat next to me :)” 4 year old: “i didn’t want to but there were no more chairs”
6 year old, to me: “you look young for 20. you look like 9 but old.”
5 year old: “is it illegal to get a gun and shoot animals?”
same 5 year old after not listening to our security officer: “if i don’t, will you shoot me?”
same 5 year old: “stop it motherfucker”
SAME 5 year old to me: “i hate you stop following me” (he kept trying to run away)
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