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#(she needs the sleep and MAYBE she’ll get some ACTUAL sleep >.>)
honorarysimp · 1 day
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7: The Entity
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You’re starting to get worried.
And that’s saying a lot.
The nightmares aren’t anything unusual, especially considering the circumstances and how you’ve been living the last month.
It’s a lot, you admit to yourself, even for you.
You cup your hands under the cold running water and splash your face, bent over the sink as you rest your hands atop the counter. Deep breath in, exhale.
Shaking your head, you wipe your hand over your face and look up into the mirror. The bags under your eyes and your sunken in cheeks isn’t exactly the best you’ve looked. But insomnia is a bitch, and she fucks you every night.
You turn to head back to your hotel bed, with the intention of sleeping, when you notice the red staining your sheets.
Had you ripped your stitches again?
Looking back to the mirror you turn, wincing when you feel a slight sting, peering over your shoulder and feeling your stomach sink.
Gashes, like nails, down the length of your back.
Those are new.
You reach around to touch them, almost like you can’t believe they’re real, and wince as the smallest brush of your fingers lets you know they’re very real.
How? What? Where did they come from? They weren’t there yesterday. A rat? Fuck no, a rat wouldn’t do this.
Trying to rationalize, you realize there’s no point. Honestly, maybe you should’ve given up on logical thinking when you’d gotten attacked by a Ghost. Or Wes disappearing. Or being buried alive.
You rub your eyes, you’re not even sure the last time you got good sleep, which is why you don’t even think about it when you’re picking up your phone and dialing the number that had been given to you just a week ago.
It’s in this moment you realize she might be at work, saving people, doing her job. And you’re bothering her with your unexplainable bullshit-
It picks up on the third ring, “hello?”
Her voice is groggy, she’d definitely been sleeping, but her follow up is far more awake. As if she’s registered that you’re actually calling her, at 3AM.
“Detective? What’s wrong? Are you-“
“I’m okay. Something has happened, I don’t know how to explain it but…” you trail off, praying you don’t sound as delirious as you feel, “I could use some medical attention for something.”
You hear rustling in the other end, feeling guilty knowing she’s getting up out of bed for you. Someone she’s only known a month. Someone whose life she’s saved twice now. Three times if you count her stitching up your wound.
The first time.
“It’s not bad-“
“Must not be if you’re calling me instead of an ambulance, or 911” she says, but you hear her amused tone down the line, it eases your guilt only a little.
“Try not to hurry, I’ll pray I bleed out before you get here.”
Her tired laugh is the last thing you hear before the call ends.
When she arrives, she doesn’t question you. She simply sits you down after you show her the scratches, assessing them carefully. Once Tara determines you don’t need stitches, she cleans them. Bandages them.
She’s gentle, careful, like she had been after she and Sam dug you out of the ground. Almost like you’re real to her now, it’s still surreal to you. The dynamic shift after you almost died, for an idiotic reason yes.
But… you can’t really complain, selfishly grateful that Tara has grown fond enough of you to show up at 3AM to help you without much explanation.
She and Sam had both agreed not to say anything about what had happened, per your request, not without extreme protest of course. But considering how dangerous those men are, for now, you thought it best to be grateful for their mercy. For all of your safety, considering their warning.
They could’ve just left you there, after all.
You wonder if she’ll ask after she’s done, where the scratches came from, but unfortunately you aren’t sure what to tell her.
“I’ve seen these before” Tara murmurs without prompt, almost as if she’s reading your thoughts, “Sam had a friend when she was in high school-“
“Sam had friends?”
That earns you a smack on your good arm, you grin, knowing Tara is fighting off her own smile.
“She was getting scratches and nightmares, I overheard her tell Sam once that something was terrorizing her. That it was coming for her.”
Your stomach sinks, swallowing hard as you stay quiet, letting her continue.
However when she doesn’t, you turn and find her gaze far off, deep into thought.
“Where’d you go?” you ask softly, as if coaxing her back. Those pretty brown eyes find you again, catching the ambient lighting of the room and making something unnecessary tug at your chest.
“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go… ask, is all” Tara says with a shrug, “she moved out of town with her girlfriend- wife now actually, a few years back. But knowing you? I’m sure we could find her.”
That. That gets you. The “we”.
“Why are you helping me” you ask, voice raw and tone quiet, your eyes searching hers.
It’s a loaded question and you both know it, because technically you’re still strangers. But you aren’t. You’ve already been through a lot since the moment you arrived here, and Tara’s been nothing but a beacon to guide you to the only sliver of sanity you have left. Even when she calls you names and acts as if she cares less than she does.
Tara is quiet for a long moment, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth before taking a deep breath.
“People give you more reasons not to trust them than they do reasons to trust them” she murmurs, which isn’t a good start, at least until she glances away and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“But that’s no reason to project those fears onto everyone you meet, that’s not what the human experience is about” Tara continues, you notice that vulnerability wavier as if she suddenly worries she’s been too honest, so she adds “besides, you’re clearly the thoughtless type who goes headfirst just to do the right thing, as a first responder it’s my job to keep idiots like you alive.”
You’re silent, simply just looking at her, and she’s looking right back at you.
The tension is suffocating, and you become suddenly aware that the room feels smaller than it should. And when Tara shifts her weight where she’s sat on the bed, you feel too close to her. Not in a bad way, but in a way that makes you feel more terrified than being buried alive or stabbed.
“Well,” you hum, collecting yourself and squaring your shoulders, which the movement makes your back ache “how far of a drive is it?”
You’d told her you wouldn’t go anywhere without her, and you’d meant it, which is why she doesn’t ask and neither do you. Something’s are better left unsaid, at least for now.
“About three-ish hours, maybe more? Don’t take my word for it, but if you want a physical address you’ll need to work some magic” Tara says, a small smile teasing at her lips, you swallow the rising pulse in your throat as you stand and head for the small table to the left of the bed.
It’s nothing extravagant, your set up, considering you’re still in the same hotel room you’d been in since arriving here. But your own personal makeshift investigation board sits on the table leaned back against the wall, papers and photos scattered about. You nudge your tape recorder off your laptop and open it up, sitting as you tilt your head side to side, getting satisfying pops.
“It won’t take long once I get a name, when do you wanna go?” You ask Tara over your shoulder as you boot up your computer, “wait don’t you have work?”
“Work is the least of my concerns, what you should be asking is how fucked we’re gonna be when Sam finds out we’ve both skipped town” she pauses, for dramatic flair probably, “together.”
The muscle in your jaw twitches, hand pausing over the keys, because the idea of a furious Sam coming after you for disappearing off with her younger sister isn’t exactly appealing “…maybe we shouldn’t-“
“We’ll be fine, I’m a grown ass woman for fucks sake.”
You give her a look, slowly turning back towards your computer.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not even looking at you anymore.”
You don’t look, but you know she’s fighting off a smile.
____________________________________________
Your car rumbles down the empty countryside road, its headlights cutting through what remained of dawn as it neared its destination. The quiet was interrupted only by the low hum of the engine and the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires.
Finally, the headlights catch a turn off, a narrow dirt road leading to a small, simple house. It was secluded, surrounded by a dense thicket of trees and undergrowth.
“It’s really early, do you think we should come back?” You ask unsurely.
The engine idles softly as you park the car just down the drive, glancing to Tara, her features set and determined. The headlights illuminated the front of the house, casting eerie shadows over the worn shingles and wooded exterior.
“It’s 7AM on a Tuesday, you’re the Detective, context clues” Tara says as she raises an eyebrow at you.
You ponder, sighing, rationalizing it’s probably the better time to catch them. Before work, not after when it’s late at night.
In your defense, you’re exhausted and running on coffee and sheer spite.
You kill the engine and push open the door, the cool morning air rushing in as you climbed out. Tara follows suit, her eyes fixed on the house in front of you.
With a shared nod, you both approach the front porch of the silent house, the boards creaking beneath your feet.
It seems quiet from within, but a single light flickered through the curtains of a window to the right. You and Tara exchange a quick glance before you raise a fist and knock loudly on the door.
For a moment, you stand in silence, waiting for a response. There is no sound from inside the house, but the light remains on, casting a faint glow through the curtains.
You knock again, knuckles rapping against the worn wood of the door harshly. The sound echoed through the clearing just surrounding the house.
After a few more moments, there was movement from inside, the sound of footsteps approaching and a bolt being slid aside. The door creaks open slightly, revealing a blonde woman with wary eyes.
The blonde woman took in the sight of you and Tara, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Before she could threaten you or tell you to piss off, though, her gaze fell upon Tara. Immediately, recognition filled her features.
"You..." she whispered, her expression shifting from wary to surprise. The tension in the air seemed to thicken “you’re Sam’s little sister.”
“Hey Kirby, it’s been a while” Tara starts sweetly, flashing the woman a genuine smile. The woman, Kirby, flicks her gaze between you two, her hands flexing as she gripped the edge of the door.
"What... what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice shaky and uneasy.
Sensing her trepidation, you took a step closer. "We have some questions," you say calmly. "May we come inside?"
Kirby hesitates, her eyes flicking between you and Tara. Her expression remained wary, her grip on the door still firm and tight.
"You didn't answer my question," she said, her voice steady but laced with unease. "Why are you here? What do you want?"
“The same thing that happened to you is happening to my friend here” Tara says suddenly, making Kirby look to her with wide eyes.
From further inside the house, another female voice called out. "Everything okay?"
Kirby turns her head briefly, responding to the voice. "I'm fine," she called back, her tone taut and anxious.
There was a moment of silence before the other voice called out again. "Who's at the door?"
You watch Kirby tense, her expression growing even more unnerved. She glanced back at the two of you, then back into the house. She takes a deep breath, her features regaining some of their steel.
"Everything's fine, Jill" she called out, her voice steady and firm. "Go back to bed, I'll handle it."
She then turned her attention back to the two of you, her expression her gaze hard and resolute. "You need to leave," she said, her voice regaining its firmness. "There's nothing here for you."
The voice from inside called out again, this time sounding agitated. "What's going on? Who's there?"
Kirby sighs and calls back over her shoulder. "Everything's fine, babe please!"
There was a moment of silence, and then a second woman appeared in the doorway. This must be Jill.
She looks the same age as Kirby, her brown hair tied back in a loose bun. She has her arms crossed, her expression curious but not hostile.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, peering out through the crack in the door at you and Tara.
The tension in the air seemed to ease slightly as the second woman emerged. Her presence was calming, her voice soft and less defensive than Kirby.
"They’re from… Woodsboro" Kirby mutters, her eyes moving between you and Tara.
Jill’s eyes widened a fraction, her expression growing wary. "From Woodsboro?” she repeated, her gaze flicking between each of them. “Should I even ask what brought you two all the way out here to our doorstep?”
You take a small tentative step forward, gaze locked intently on Jill, praying she at least be the one to hear you out. "Ma'am," you began, voice firm but pleading. "We need your help. Something is happening in Woodsboro, something that’s connected to what happened a few years ago, and then a few years before that.”
Kirby’s eyes widened, her hands trembling. Jill, however, stays composed, her gaze steady as she listened.
"The events from that night have started repeating," you continue, voice low and insistent. "We need to understand what's going on, if you were able to survive being tormented by this thing it may help us-“
Kirby’s expression contorted, her eyes going wide with anger. "No!" she snapped, her voice trembling. "I'm not going through that again. You both need to leave, get the fuck off my porch, NOW!"
With a loud thud, she slammed the door shut, the sound echoing through the night.
You and Tara exchange a quick glance, stunned by the sudden outburst. The porch suddenly seemed eerily quiet, the night air heavy with tension.
“Do we…?” you start, looking to Tara, who looks a mixture between frustrated and unsure.
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea” she mutters, looking a bit guilty, “at least we tried-“
But then the door cracks open again, this time it’s Jill. She looks between the two of you, thoughtful, eyebrows pinched together almost as if she’s worried.
“Listen, I can’t tell you much because I don’t know much, neither of us do. All I know is that the same thing happened to my Aunt back when that thing-“ she stops, shaking her head and glancing over her shoulder inside.
“There’s a ritual, and it’s not simple. Bare bones? Your heart has to temporarily stop, so whatever the thing has latched on to you moves on or something. We never questioned it, only did what we were told and it worked.”
That was not what you were expecting, and as you share a look with Tara it’s clear neither was she.
“Are you saying-“
“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. We stopped her heart and restarted it using a defibrillator, I’m sorry I’ve got nothing more to offer you” Jill says with an apologetic smile, “and don’t be set off by her reaction, she never really… recovered fully from what she saw. That’s saying a lot, if you’d known her… before.”
As if you weren’t anxious enough already, you’re still wanting to be in denial about this.
Think about it, an entity that’s been terrorizing Woodsboro for decades decides it wants to start fucking with you specifically? And to get rid of it you have to die and be resuscitated?
The cherry on top of everything that makes no sense.
“This is fucking insane-“
“Thank you for your time, and advice, we appreciate it” Tara smoothly cuts you off, resting her hand on your shoulder as she gives Jill a smile.
Jill glances between you two, offering a nod “back then I’d have done anything to save her, she’s everything to me, it would be cruel of me not to offer the two of you that chance.”
It’s not exactly an implication, or a forward assumption, but you can’t help how your mind goes right to it. And judging by the slight pink tint in Tara’s cheeks, she may not be far off your train of thought as she quickly takes her hand off your shoulder.
With that, Jill disappears back inside, and you two both make your way back to the car quickly. It’s quiet as you start the engine, punch in the address to get you both back to Woodsboro.
“I don’t think I’m up for this” Tara says suddenly, you turn your head to look at her in confusion. She’s staring out the windshield, discomfort in her expression “I’m not entirely excited at the idea of stopping your heart when I know it doesn’t always work bringing someone back.”
You take a deep breath, gripping at the steering wheel like it’s a stress ball, “look it’s just bad dreams, some scratches on my back it’s not like it could mean-“
“Stop. Just… stop” Tara cuts you off, raising a hand in the air between the two of you as she refuses to look your way. Silence envelops the vehicle again.
“This has to stop. I’m tired of losing people I care about, and you-“ she whips around, face twisted with anger as she glares accusingly “-you can’t just show up and wedge yourself into my life like it’s nothing, and then disappear like everyone else. No. Fuck no I refuse-“
“Tara” you say her name softly, gently, which instantly pauses her angry rant. She takes a slow breath, running her hands down her face as she collects herself.
“Can we say this for what it really is? Because I’m not a skeptic and I’m not rabid with superstition, but can we agree that this is something?” Tara says, opening her eyes and looking at you.
It’s hard. Hard for you to admit that yes, it’s the only explanation. That yes, there’s something far bigger than either of you are probably even anywhere close to being able to comprehend nor understand. And how you’ve somehow become this entity’s new target, for a reason still unknown.
Because you failed at your job to uncover this, which is probably why this has gone on for as long as it has. There’s nothing to work with.
“If I’m gonna live…” you start carefully, holding her gaze as you try to keep yourself steady, “then I’m going to have to die, and unfortunately… I’ll need your help for that”
Tara is clearly against the idea of being the one to do it, but she puts on a brave face and nods, the look you share says it all.
“This is fucking insane, right?”
“Really fucking insane.”
“And it makes no sense, it might not even work, but we’re going to try it anyways?”
You turn back to face the steering wheel, shifting the car into drive as you mumble “I guess so.”
____________________________________________
You never thought you’d find yourself in Tara’s living space, yet alone laid on her floor knowing she’s about to stop your heart.
Literally.
She’s in work mode and you can tell, she’s trying to keep herself as detached from this as possible so she’ll follow through. Tara is a professional, this is a part of her job after all.
Her place is nice, really nice, you wonder if things were different, if you’d be here under different circumstances. But then again, you’d have never come to Woodsboro at all without them.
You lay motionless on the floor, eyes closed as you steel yourself for what was about to come. Your breaths are slow and deep, each inhale and exhale a measured effort of control.
Tara kneels beside you, her hands gripping the handles of the defibrillator pads. Her expression was a mix of determination and worry, her eyes trained on the machine's digital readout, pre-set to the appropriate voltage.
"Ready hot shot?" she asked, her voice steady but taut with uncertainty. Your eyes fluttered open, locking onto hers. You give a subtle nod, bracing for the shock. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation, each second hanging in the air like a lead weight.
“See you in two minutes?” you ask, just because you feel like you have to say something, even if it’s repeating the agreed time you’d go under.
She nods, “two minutes.”
With a deep breath, Tara presses the two small pads against your chest, the rubber grips sticking to your shirt. Her fingers hovered over the 'shock' button, knuckles white with tension.
The air was thick with an eerie stillness as she prepared to deliver the electric jolt. The your heart pounds in your ears, body tensed in anticipation.
"Clear!" Tara exclaims, her voice ringing out sharply in the empty room. With a brief flash, she pressed the button.
A bolt of electricity surges through you, your body convulsing involuntarily as the jolting current struck you. You grit your teeth, muscles seizing and twitching with the force of the shock.
And then your eyes open, and you find yourself standing in the middle of a vast, empty void. The air was still and silent, a stark shift from the moment before. Your body felt strange, almost weightless, and a sense of confusion washes over you.
You look around, your gaze scanning the endless space. Were you dead? Had the defibrillation worked?
As you turn in a small circle, a sudden chill ran down your spine. Something was there. In the shadows around the edge of the void, a faint outline shifted and moved.
As your eyes adjusted, the form solidified, and what appeared out of the darkness was a horrific sight. Dark, twisted limbs, a face that was once human now distorted and nightmarish. Its voice was a low, gravelly whisper that echoed through the emptiness.
"You’ve done well, better than most" the entity said, its voice rasping and harsh. "Your persistence amuses me. But I assure you, your efforts are futile."
It began to move, its twisted form slithering across the floorless void, seemingly moving across the empty space like water. Its dark, misshapen body approaches you, its eyes glinting with a sadistic pleasure.
"Everything you've worked for, all the pain you’ve endured," it continued, drawing closer and closer. "It will all be for nothing. You can’t beat me, Detective. I am a part of you now.”
Your terror is replaced by a sudden surge of defiance. You stood tall, hands balling into fists, and demand answers. "Why are you doing this? What do you gain from abducting people from Woodsboro?" you exclaimed, voice firm as your empowered by all the pint up frustration over the last month.
The entity halted, its form pulsating and shifting. A low chuckle echoed from its deformed mouth.
"Abducting people?" it repeated, the words distorted and mocking. "Such a simplistic way to frame it. I'm not abducting them. I'm freeing them."
The entity begins circling you slowly, its limbs moving like sinewy tentacles across the void. Its eyes remain fixed on you, dark and unsettling.
"Freedom from the mundane, slavery to mortality, the expected," it continued, its voice dripping with a twisted sense of righteousness. "I offer them something greater than what your pathetic world could provide."
"Greater?" you exclaim, your voice tinged with anger. "By stealing their lives, taking them from their homes, their families, you're offering them something greater?"
"Oh, but I am," the entity retorted, its deformed face contorting into a mockery of a smile. "Everything they leave behind is meaningless. My world is one of power, of transformation. Those who are taken become something more than they ever were in your world."
That catches your attention, “is that where they are? The missing people? Is that why there are no bodies?”
The entity chuckled again, its dark, twisted form shifting and writhing before you. "Precisely," it said, its voice dripping with satisfaction. "They've become a part of me, a part of something greater, something beyond your comprehension."
Your mind races, trying to piece together the entity’s machinations. You clench your fists tighter as you demand to know more.
"How do you do it?" You ask, voice sharp. "How do you move around town without leaving a trace all this time?"
The entity let out a guttural, mocking laugh. "You are so limited in your thinking, Detective. You think in terms of flesh and blood, of physical presence. But I am far more...fluid."
Your eyes widened as the entity's words sank in. "Water” you murmur, realization dawning.
The entity chuckled darkly, its twisted form undulating in the empty void. "Very good, Detective," it taunted. "You've finally arrived at the crux of the matter. I am not bound by the constraints of your physical world. I am fluid, elusive, and I am everywhere."
You press on, desperate for more information. "Is that how you’re able to change shape and form?" You ask.
The entity chuckled, its form shifting and reshaping in the void as it suddenly takes on the appearance of the Ghostface. "Correct again, Detective," it responded, its voice taking on a mocking tone. "Water is my medium, my canvas. I can shape and reform myself in any way I desire, thanks to my connection to its endless supply."
You listen intently as the entity spoke, its deformed grin spreading wider. "I have no pattern, no cycles," it said, its voice taking on a tone of satisfaction. "I come when I want, I rest when I want, and I leave when I have had my fill. Everyone is fair game. I am a force of nature, unpredictable, unstoppable."
It paused, its form shifting and coiling in the void. "But for now, it is your time," it continued, its voice dropping to a sinister whisper. "Your time to join my ranks, Detective."
The entity’s deformed face twists into a grotesque sneer as it began to reshape yet again. "Oh, I am coming for you, all of you, one by one" it hissed, its voice dripping with menace. "It is inevitable my will to consume this town, suck it dry like a parasite. Until there is nothing left. Nothing left but me, and my twisted playground-“
Your eyes snapped open, breath coming in ragged gasps. You felt a sharp jolt through your chest, a jolt so strong it seemed to rattle your bones.
Your vision swims, and the world comes back into focus. You realize you’re back in the real world, Tara standing over you, the defibrillator still in her shaking hands.
“You’re going to feel nauseous for a minute, try and take it easy” Tara says smoothly, setting the pads down and grabbing your face gently, checking your pupil response with a small light that makes you wince.
The adrenaline was still coursing through your veins, your heart pounding in your ears. The memory of the entity's words echoed in your mind, its dark laughter still fresh in your memory.
You push yourself up slowly, body feeling heavy. Tara rests a hand on your shoulder, acting as an anchor as she looks at you, relief and concern etched across her features. "You alright?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
It took a moment to gather yourself, your mind still spinning. "I saw it," you croak out, voice hoarse. "I spoke to it. It’s real, it warned me... that it- its-“ you blink a few times, shaking your head to try and rid the hazy sensation.
Tara’s eyes widen, her expression turning to one of confusion. "You… saw it?" she asked, her voice shaky. "What did it say?"
You look to her, dread clear in your eyes “it’s coming for us, all of us.”
Tara holds a brave face, but you can tell she’s beginning to panic as the reality of all this really sets in. This is real.
“What do we do? Do we even do anything?”
You swallow hard, trying to push yourself up to your feet, but your knees instantly give way.
“Woah, woah you can’t be standing up yet-“ Tara is quick to steady you, her firm tone practiced from her field of work.
“We have to go to the Mayor, I have to talk to her about the immediately” you tell her, no longer caring to filter anything that comes out of your mouth after what you’d seen.
You now understand Kirby’s panic, her horror, her fear.
“The Mayor? Why? She won’t believe us” Tara says, but as she takes in your next words, her expression shifts from worry to disbelief.
“She will, because she’s the one who hired me and brought me here.”
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lovecoredeity · 20 days
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I’m gonna try n post art either tomorrow (aka later today) or the day after
#maybe not tomorrow because I’m gonna be spending the whole day with my part time roommate for her bday#but I am almost done with this art I just wanna finish the weapon that I didn’t have to draw but did#also sorry again if I’m talking too much on the art blog on my defense it is at least art related blabbing but I still am like god shut up#fae each time I make a new post (this does not stop me from making new posts)#I’m actually rlly happy with how the art is turning out I think I’ve done a p good job and am basically now just figuring out how to improve#small things and if I should/could add more details or if that’s the devil (and the too much/over detailing gene) talking#I never know when to stop with art I will keep adding details if someone doesn’t stop me#it’s an affliction#an-knee-ways. it’s 3am I need to go to sleep soon#my roommates dad is taking us to a cute little French cafe we’ve never been to and I’m very excited#I’m gonna get some coffee and a macaron and I will thrive#on a sad note I forgot my roommates bday card at home so she’ll be getting that late#on a good note she did get her gift from me a few days ago because she already knew what it was it was a little pitcher(?) from an antique#shop that she liked and I was like hey girliepop want me to buy you this as gift?#I’m debating getting my other roommate a cast iron pan or something in the future because he’s always talking about those#oh my god I’m talking too much goodnight (allegedly) gay people in my phone
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akuzeisms · 1 year
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  CONTINUED     ⤷ @grownpale
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Lately, it feels like they don’t get much time to do… anything, really. Everything was happening rapidly, before they could even process it; they were flying from system to system, with new war data coming in by the second, her team organizing it, her coordinating back and forth with Hackett and the rest of their allies… There was no such thing as a break for her. Even sleep was hard to come by; any time she tried, she’d find herself plagued with nightmares fueled by her own uncertainty about every decision she made.
But shore leave meant a reprieve. She was beginning to understand why Anderson had strong-armed her into taking the apartment off his hands; there was a certain atmosphere to it, one she found more relaxing than she’d expected. Maybe it was enough for her to fall asleep; maybe it wasn’t, but at least resting wouldn’t hurt.
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That kiss was enough to get her attention, though; her cheeks visibly pinkened at the gesture, the shyest of smiles crossing her features. What better way to spend it than with him? She was more than grateful to have him her. He kept her sane, kept her grounded through everything, even when things became more and more strained. “I’m just… glad you’re here.” Shaking her head, her thoughts turned momentarily somber. “If we’d left you back on Earth… god, I can’t imagine. It’s bad enough Anderson’s down there, but…” She wouldn’t have been able to think straight if he’d been left down there, too.
Heaving a sigh as she tried to push the thoughts away, she snuggled down further, tugging the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands as she tucked in against him, closing her eyes. “Just wish I wasn’t so damn tired. I should at least be allowed to have fun on shore leave. Not… sleep.”
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astonmartinii · 5 months
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if you need me, let me know, gonna be around [mamma mia part seven] | formula one social media au
drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso & fernando alonso
flo has finally given y/n the experience of motherhood, but she’ll never forget about her overgrown kids
MAMMA MIA MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
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yourusername: venturing out from christmas hibernation and adding to the already overflowing collection of teddies. oh, and getting pics like that of jens while he's out "having a job"
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user1: i am a simple woman, i see dilf jenson, i lose all sense of reality
user2: gnawing at the bars of my enclosure
jensonbutton: oh wow who is that handsome specimen on the last slide?
sebastianvettel: the man who carelessly abandoned his family !!!
fernandoalo_oficial: a man who couldn't handle that i was the best driver in the family
jensonbutton: what ???
sebastianvettel: i'm sorry... is that the ghost of the man we once knew
jensonbutton: i'm not dead
fernandoalo_oficial: to me you are
yourusername: okay guys ... the bit is up !! we do miss you jense but we're happy you're happy :)
sebastianvettel: sure.... well at least you won't try and worm your way into the crochet club
fernandoalo_oficial: as long as you still come to some of my races :)
user3: glad to see parenthood has not changed these fools
charles_leclerc: why do my selfies never make the instagram :(
yourusername: charlie, if i posted every time you sent me a picture of you crying that's all my instagram would be
charles_leclerc: but ........ i thought i was your favourite
yourusername: you know i don't have a favourite
charles_leclerc: sure if that's what you want to tell yourself
maxverstappen1: we all know you say that to not hurt charlie's feelings because i'm your favourite
fernandoalo_oficial: you people are so dramatic
maxverstappen1: says you old man, i can scroll up you know
sebastianvettel: well you're all second to flo
charles_leclerc: she's disqualified from this competition, she's your actual child you have to say she's your favourite
jensonbutton: it's more who annoys us the least
user4: 2024 and nothing has changed here
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sebastianvettel
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liked by yourusername, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,045,388 others
sebastianvettel: love being miles away, missing my baby and getting a running commentary of how my "grid kids" are terrorising y/n
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user7: seb is on a mission to pick up every dad hobby ever. first beekeeping and now sailing
user8: don't forget the gardening and the crochet
user9: he's collecting the infinity stones of dilfism
yourusername: a full eight hours of sleep looks so good on you
sebastianvettel: so i don't look good all the time 🤨
yourusername: of course you do handsome. me and flo miss you :((
sebastianvettel: don't say that i miss you all so much
fernandoalo_oficial: maybe that's your sign to come home?
jensonbutton: yeah i think you should listen to the universe seb, you like all that crystal and salt of the earth stuff
yourusername: sebbbbbbbbb :(((((
sebastianvettel: STOP
user10: they are so precious to me
yourusername: no but seriously if i have to teach another grid kid how to iron i might lose my mind
charles_leclerc: ummmmm stop blasting me on main?
yourusername: learn to iron then
sebastianvettel: you still don't know how to iron? i thought i taught you in 2019?
charles_leclerc: clearly not well enough !! and y/n please name and shame the others so i'm not alone
yourusername: @landonorris @logansargeant sorry
landonorris: WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU Y/N? I CALLED YOU IN CONFIDENCE
logansargeant: i don't have any excuse, thank you for the lesson y/n :)
jensonbutton: at least one of our kids is well mannered
charles_leclerc: i am well mannered, sorry i love my grid mum and her kid. i do semi-know how to iron but needed an excuse to see flo :(
user11: free my girl from these incompetent men
mickschumacher
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liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoao_oficial and 921,743 others
tagged: yourusername
mickschumacher: thanks nurse y/n and nurse flo for helping me - sorry about your mug
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user12: the plaster :((((((((
jensonbutton: IT WAS YOU WHO BROKE MY I <3 NASCAR DILFS MUG
mickschumacher: sorry !
jensonbutton: nuh uh mister @sebastianvettel sort your kid out
sebastianvettel: mick said he was sorry jenson, leave him be
jensonbutton: but when lando put the rubbish in the wrong recycling he had to go litter picking with you I WANT A NEW MUG
yourusername: you guys know they aren't actually your kids, you can't put them in time out
yourusername: you can barely put your own child in time out
fernandoalo_oficial: she's too cute i don't want to make her cry
landonorris: but it's fine to make me cry?
fernandoalo_oficial: yes. in fact, it's quite fun
landonorris: Y/N!!!!
yourusername: okay, babies let's all put the phones down for this evening.
user13: nooooo y/n please i could watch these idiots argue all day
yourusername: the main thing is that your finger is all okay and that you got a cute plaster out of it
mickschumacher: i very much love my lil cat finger
yourusername: so does flo, i think you might be stuck doing puppet shows for the forseeable future
mickschumacher: anything for miss flo
user14: mamma mia family dynamics you are everything to me
fernandoalo_oficial: why did mick get a kitty plaster and i got told to do it myself :(
yourusername: because you're a grown man and you injured yourself by tripping with darts in your hands
fernandoalo_oficial: mick is a grown man - HE CAN VOTE just because he needs seb's help with the paperwork does not change that
mickschumacher: you said yourself they are confusing !!
sebastianvettel: ignore him mick
fernandoalo_oficial: booooooooo
user15: i know these men provide the best entertainment for flo even if she doesn't understand a word they're saying
yourusername: she finds them very entertaining which then starts a competition to who can make her laugh the most
yourusername
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liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,447,734
tagged: alexalbon, lilymunhe
yourusername: sometimes even my most competent grid kid needs some help, happy anniversary alex and lily x
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user16: UGH this is so cute
alexalbon: grid mum or emotional support retail assistant?
lilymunhe: so how much of the heartfelt gift was really you
alexalbon: 90% !!! i swear
yourusername: it was all alex he just needed the support (idk he said that jewellery shops are stressful)
alexalbon: they are !! i don't know how big fingers are :(
lilymunhe: thank you y/n wouldn't want the 27 year old man to get lost at the mall
yourusername: no worries, i somehow gained at least 15 extra children along with flo, i just go with it. he's less hassle than charles and max
charles_leclerc: rude.
maxverstappen1: gasp!
user17: i love how much y/n has really embraced the grid mum life
user18: i don't think she had much choice 😭
user19: the way she's like "oh i'll help you all with anything you need" and takes flo on all of these side missions and the guys just leave them to die 😭
user20: they're such dad's who don't want the cat but end up attached but don't want to show it
jensonbutton: wait which one of us claim alex? is it me? why was i not invited?
alexalbon: ur my williams dad :) and i think this trip needed a woman's touch (and flo's touch obvs)
jensonbutton: rude i give great gifts
fernandoalo_oficial: considering he's one of the least feral and has lily, i want to claim alex
sebastianvettel: i have too many kids you guys can have alex
alexalbon: sebastian! did our gardening afternoons mean nothing ?
lilymunhe: we'll take it nando
sebastianvettel: did you or did you not just make it a competition with george to see who could plant potatoes the fastest and then make a mess of my vegetable garden
georgerussell63: GUILTY
yourusername: soz but you all have to claim all of them, my rules now
user21: y/n and flo going to rule that house with an iron fist
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fernandoalo_oficial
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liked by yourusername, jensonbutton and 1,309,244 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
fernandoalo_oficial: glad to be back on the podium, but even more proud to call you my grid kid. we all love you, especially flo :)
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user24: THEY HAVE MATCHING MIFFY PLUSHIES
user25: miffy is dutch so that might be why max got them matching ones :)
yourusername: and flo is surgically attached to her miffy (she has named her maxi, even if she can barely say it)
maxverstappen1: you are one of my heroes and it was a pleasure to share the podium with you. there's no one else in the world i'd love to dedicate my podium to than lil mia x
fernandoalo_oficial: you've got me crying again
maxverstappen1: get it all out old man
fernandoalo_oficial: already back to the old man 🤨 i guess i'll take the nice messages while i can
user26: nando getting all mushy is so cute i can't believe this is where we are
charles_leclerc: let it be known that if i had a car fast enough i would also dedicate a win to flo, but for now she'll have to settle for a song
fernandoalo_oficial: is silvia going to kill you? because seb and y/n might kill me if they get your ass over this
charles_leclerc: but it's true, no?
fernandoalo_oficial: you will not trick me into slandering my old team charlie
maxverstappen1: LOL YOU SNOOZE YOU LOSE
charles_leclerc: YOU KNEW THAT WAS MY IDEA THIEF
sebastianvettel: charles why am i getting a call from silvia?
maxverstappen1: LOL
charles_leclerc: brb just going to lourdes
jensonbutton: lol way to get outshined by your kid
fernandoalo_oficial: at least i was in the position to be outshined by my kid
jensonbutton: ERGH you know you can't bring that up
fernandoalo_oficial: you said that you couldn't wait to get away from us
jensonbutton: oop.
yourusername: my wonderful boys!
maxverstappen1: :D
fernandoalo_oficial: i love you both :)
maxverstappen1: awww thanks nando
fernandoalo_oficial: i meant y/n and flo but sure love you too buddy
yourusername
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,610,449 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: maxy, this means more than you could know, flo very much enjoyed watching 'blu' go fast :)
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user27: is this family going to make me cry? maybe.
user28: side note, how many animal onesies does flo have they're so cute
user29: she's like a lil teddy bear
maxverstappen1: glad to have officially won the title of flo's favourite brother
charles_leclerc: NOT SO FAST MISTER
maxverstappen1: maybe if you were faster you would've dedicated a win to flo :P
charles_leclerc: LOW BLOW
danielricciardo: don't even get me started on the daniel ricciardo erasure
maxverstappen1: shush daniel let the problem children talk
charles_leclerc: yeah daniel, problem children only
sebastianvettel: should we intervene?
yourusername: no, i'm intrigued as to where this is going to go
jensonbutton: i for one love watching these dummies fight
fernandoalo_oficial: let me get my popcorn
maxverstappen1: are we just entertainment to you?
jensonbutton: yes!
charles_leclerc: the minute flo can talk ASK HER WHO IS HER FAVOURITE
sebastianvettel: sure?
user30: they can never ask that question, one of them might never recover
maxverstappen1: for real though, i love you guys and i love flo. i'll send nando home with the trophy as well :)
yourusername: awwww thank you maxy :) @sebastianvettel @fernandoalo_oficial @jensonbutton new shelf needed please
jensonbutton: i'll leave this one to "the woodwork king"
sebastianvettel: am i the only one who does anything in this house?
fernandoalo_oficial: you can't be called the woodwork king and not do the work
yourusername: you don't even let them help seb
sebastianvettel: UGH.
jensonbutton
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liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 912,774 others
tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo
jensonbutton: day 4,000+ of losing our actual girlfriend to our overgrown kids
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user31: PICTURE OF DANNY WITH FLO ALERT ALERT
yourusername: not my fault you guys picked up so many stray cats while in the sport
jensonbutton: i only claim lando and alex, the rest are the others' faults
yourusername: i know you love it really
jensonbutton: not when the little tornadoes hit our house, eat all of our food and steal my baby
danielricciardo: whoops
jensonbutton: and terrorise my pets DANIEL
danielricciardo: they terrorise each other jenson, maybe they aren't as well trained as you thought
yourusername: oh god...
jensonbutton: HOW DARE YOU !!!! BECKETT, SALMON AND CREAM CHEESE ARE VERY WELL TRAINED AND WELL BEHAVED
user32: old men are going crazy we love to see it
sebastianvettel: are we a bed and breakfast?
yourusername: i fear so. you need to run back from whatever ocean you are in we are low on staff now jenson is back racing. flo might be cute but she's a liability in the kitchen
fernandoalo_oficial: maybe we should just kick them out
yourusername: noooo :( not my babies
fernandoalo_oficial: can we at least charge them?
maxverstappen1: you people are the most stingy millionaires i have ever met
charles_leclerc: i pay you in piano sorry
yourusername: don't listen to them boys, flo and i love having you over
user33: so like is there any way we could open the mamma mia bed and breakfast to the public
fernandoalo_oficial: why do the grid kids see our family more than us?
yourusername: come home more often then :(
fernandoalo_oficial: i'm working on it the plane is delayed :(
jensonbutton: personally i would just run home but that's just me
sebastianvettel: i would simply just walk on water
fernandoalo_oficial: shut up. see you later
yourusername: yay !!!!
fin.
note: writer's block has really been beating my ass so there's always mamma mia to get it flowing again. i'm still working on requests, hopefully they'll come along a little faster now! also - i started an instagram for my small business i am opening it's @badlydrawnf1cats, feel free to follow x
edit: mamma mia will return
taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih @duck-duck-goose-18 @dark-night-sky-99 @ironcowboycopnickel @sizzlingghostoperatorbagel @2bormaybenot @42ndbrokencompass @whotfisvale @lichterfee @sticksdoesart @glitterf1 @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @lighttsoutlewis @tagteamedbitch @glow-ish @sadg3 @kagatinkita @litoriaxu
2K notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 5 months
Text
Jungkook
Princess | Intro/ Part 01
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There's more to it than what meets the eye.
Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues, mentions of depression
Length: 6.5k Words
-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Jungkook hates loosing.
And that’s especially true when it comes to bets- because he also can’t really pass up any opportunity to show off and be the best at something. So when he took on the bet with Jimin, he didn’t think anything of it- after all, even if he lost, he could still simply teach that so-called ‘puppy’ Jimin was supposed to be working with a killer choreo and make his way on top either way.
What Jimin failed to tell him, however, was that you are an absolute menace.
Not only are you spoiled to high heavens and dressed head to toe in pretty designer pieces designed and tailored just for you, no- your attitude is making him want to throw himself into a busy road to be run over by any moving vehicle willing to do so. It’s been not even thirty minutes he’s spent in the meeting room, and he already regrets his big mouth with Jimin.
But maybe it’s just a bad first impression. Maybe, you’re just having a bad day.
“So, basically, we’ve got four weeks to make it work.” Your manager says, having finished his plan as he stands at the end of the table everyone is sitting at, you included- though you clearly do not listen to the conversations happening at all, instead occupied with a game on your switch console, decorated in plastic gemstones and cute stickers, sound not even all the way down as to not interrupt anyone.
Jungkook feels his blood boiling. Can’t you at least attempt to listen? After all, it’s your career that’s on the line.
“I’ll need the possible song choices she made, and I also gotta get a copy of the guidelines and what the judges generally look for. Doesn’t have to be today, but I’d like to have it before we start making anything up.” Jungkook offers, arms crossed. You’ve not even looked at him once today.
If he just went by looks, you’d actually be quite cute- you're clearly taking good care of yourself, and you fall right into the category of hybrid girl he’d see himself interested in- but your character seems to be the exact opposite, as you stare down at the small screen in your hands, lashes long, hiding your gaze a little from him.
“We can totally do that.” Your manager says. “I- uhm.. Are you okay with that too?” He asks towards you, and you simply take in a deep breath before you sigh, shoulders shrugging and head somewhat nodding. Your eyes however never break away from your game, instead, you just adjust your seating postition a little before you become completely detached from the situation again. “I’m sorry about that. She’s.. Having a bad day.” Your manager justifies.
Jungkook smells the lie right away.
“Practice will start at 7 AM then-” Jungkook starts, and that seems to catch your attention as your face turns into a frown. “-And we’ll practice the whole week, except weekends.”
“That’s too early.” You mumble, grumbling down at your game while your legs stretch out under the table, feet brushing against his shins. You’re not wearing shoes, only your knee-high socks, having discarded the slip on’s early on for no apparent reason other than comfort.
“She usually sleeps until.. 11 so..” Your manager starts, and Jungkook has to swallow a growl.
“8.” He says sternly, staring at you who scoffs down at your hands. “She’ll have to get up earlier then.” He decides, making you lift your chin a little, before you save your game, turn off the console and put it on the table, your arms now crossed as well as you finally, for the first time, look at him.
The fire in your eyes could seriously burn someone if it was to be manifested into a real flame, he decides.
“You’ll have to wait until I show up then.” You answer him, and his eyes narrow, feeling challenged. But before he can respond, your manager seems to sense the growing tension between you two, as he dissolves the meeting quickly to have you driven back home.
Jungkook however, can’t let go this easily.
“You forgot to tell me that she’s an absolute bitch.” Jungkook growls into his phone, sitting on his couch with the TV on but on mute. “There’s no way I’ll be working with her for four weeks without committing a crime.” He threatens, and Jimin has the audacity to laugh.
“Oh Jungkookie, don’t let her fool you!” He laughs. “She’s a literal angel, believe me. She just acts all tough.”
“Or she was just interested in you.” Jungkook denies. “I’ve spent barely an hour with her and I already know She’s gonna be a handful to manage.” He sighs.
“Come on now, she’s what? Half your size?” Jimin playfully exaggerates. “Just put her in timeout, big guy, and you’ll be fine.” He jokes, very much aware of Jungkook’s rather dominant nature due to his wolfblood. And while the joke is funny, it’s also a problem.
Jungkook doesn’t know if he can really stay calm while working with you. And his career could be over in a second if he so much as lashes out at you verbally- because no way would someone work with a hybrid choreograph or dancer who can’t keep his cool. He already has issues getting some gigs due to his wolfblood mixed in- one mistake and he can surely put his career to rest.
He really regrets taking on this bet now.
Hopefully this won’t end too badly.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You really do not turn up at 8 like he told you to.
He’s impatiently waiting in the practice room, your manager and stylist and other staff already present- everyone trying to get a hold of you with no luck at all. It’s only until an hour later that another staff member informs everyone that you’ve finally woken up, and that you’re currently on your way to the practice room.
Jungkook is pissed, to say the least.
If you work like this the entire four weeks, there’s no way he can manage to push a good choreography into your head that you can pull off properly on stage. And if you fail, it’ll be on him- and he just can’t accept that. Hopefully, you’ll warm up to the idea of actually putting effort into this.
Hopefully.
When you finally turn up, you don’t appear to be sorry at all- still somewhat asleep and in no way ready to start practicing anytime soon. Instead, you sit down and take out your breakfast to eat, while your stylist runs a brush through your hair. But what’s odd about this, is more or less that Jungkook can sense a total shift in energy right now.
It’s like they’re shielding you, giving him no access to you until they deem the timing alright.
And you just robotically eat your little breakfast, while everyone else scatters around you, rushing from spot to spot. Jungkook isn’t too sure what exactly might be happening- but then again, it’s also not unusual to see such a scene. You’re a showhybrid after all- meant to look pretty at all times and in every living moment just in case there’s a camera around. And he knows that the practice is going to be filmed occasionally for some behind the scenes content for your fanbase- which is why you have your stylist around in the first place. You’re just supposed to look like you’re not wearing any makeup at all.
No one wants to see reality, because reality is what everyone can witness if they look in the mirror. And that’s boring. That’s not entertaining. That’s not something to be jealous of, or something to admire.
In a way, Jungkook starts to feel a bit sorry for you. Do you ever have a moment for yourself?
Either way, the moment the cameras start running, you switch character almost instantly. Suddenly you’re polite, soft spoken and determined to get every step right- though your true nature does poke it’s head through on occasion, especially when you can’t get something quite right the first or second try.
“Maybe we need to work on how to keep to the beat first.” Jungkook suggests, and at that, you seem to break, sighing with an agitated groan as your tail unravels, falling limp behind you. He’s not seen this happen often- his best friend Yoongi being a dog-hybrid with a curled tail as well, who can be quite grumpy most of the time. But even he never has his tail this.. Lifeless.
It’s unnerving to see.
“I’m not lobotomized, mutt.” You groan, making the manager motion to cut the cameras for a second. “I can keep to a beat, you’re just shit at teaching.” You growl to yourself, sitting down stubbornly as you visibly try and mask the fact that you’re out of breath.
Truth be told, Jungkook isn’t technically a choreographer. He usually works with professional dancers or simply follows whatever he’s given by an artist themselves- so yes, he might actually be a little rusty when it comes to teaching others.
Do you have to be so rude about it though? No.
“Well we’re going around in circles like this.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ll get us something to drink. Try and calm down a bit..” He attempts to soothe your temper, as he leaves the practice room- mostly so that he himself can escape the situation for a moment.
He’s not sure what it is. Maybe your scent full of anger and fear filling the space so much that it feels like it’s drowning him in the room, or the fact that you always have to be so rude-
Wait.
Fear?
Alarmed by that, Jungkook walks a bit faster with the water bottles in hand to get back into the room- just to find you not there anymore, everyone looking at him as if they’re surprised to see him back already. “Where is she?” Jungkook asks, and your manager blinks a little, caught off guard.
“She went to get something to drink.” He states, making Jungkook frown.
“I said I’m gonna get us some. Why did she go by herself?” Jungkook asks. “She doesn’t even know where the vending machines are.”
“She said you were taking too long.” A stylist mentions. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I was gone for not even five minutes?” He growls to himself, before he hears you enter the room again, a small juicebox in hand that you punch the tiny straw into. “Don’t just run off.” He scolds you.
You roll your eyes.
“Yeah alright, Daddy.” You scoff, walking past him to sit in a corner- actually facing it for some reason, your back turned towards everyone else.
“Ah, don’t be alarmed.” Your manager explains. “She.. Sometimes does this. We don’t know either why, and we don’t really question it either. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be right back to practice.” He beams at him, and Jungkook feels weirdly played.
Something’s odd here.
But it’s also none of his business.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
The next day, you’re not there on time again.
And despite the fact that Jungkook had told you no food in the practice room was allowed, you clearly disregarded that as nothing but background noise, while you take out your bag of foods in the middle of the large room.
“I said no food in the practice room.” Jungkook scolds, walking towards you to stand right in front of you, arms crossed. “and you’re also late again. Two hours to be exact.”
“You said no food.” You shrug, lifting up the small bag of puffed rice crisps. “That’s snacks.” You respond, making him narrow his eyes and clench his jaw.
“put it to the side.” He says. “You’re here to practice, not to eat.” He reminds you, able to talk freely with almost none of your staff around today.
“can’t practice on an empty stomach.” You respond however, letting yourself fall into your bag, before you take out your phone to scroll on it while you eat your snacks- crumbs already littering the floor. “Why’s your wifi so shit in here?” You mumble to yourself, when suddenly, the signal stops entirely. “Hey, your internet cut off-“ you start, before you spot him putting his phone down. “Turn it back on-“
“Since you’re acting like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” He simply says. “wifi stays off until you practiced.” He scolds, boldly taking both your snacks and your phone from you to put it on a table close by, the act alone catching you so off guard that it has you frozen in place while you process it. “Do you want to get up yourself or do I need to help you with that as well?” He asks, and you glare at him.
“Touch me and I’ll sue you.” You threaten, and he watches you for a moment as if to see if you’re serious- before he decides you’re clearly not, with the way your tail slightly twitches, clearly needing to be consciously held down by yourself to not wag.
“Alright that’s it.” He simply tells you before he walks towards you, and much to his dismay, you let yourself fall limply down onto the ground as if you’re trying to become liquid. “You’re being ridiculous right now-“
“let me have the wifi again!” You just huff. “and my snacks. I’m hungry.” You argue.
“get up earlier tomorrow and have breakfast then.” He shakes his head, before he grabs your wrists to lift you into a sitting position. But the moment he lets go, you’ve flopped back down again, lips twitching.
Now your tail is wagging, clearly.
“so that’s what you’re after, huh?” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “too bad. I’m not playing your game.” He says, before he walks to the side where all his stuff is, changing his shoes.
“wait- What’re you doing?” You ask, watching him tie his sneakers.
“going home.” He answers without looking. “were clearly not getting anywhere.”
You sigh, groaning out lout before you angrily hit the floor-
Getting up to walk towards him, pulling his jacket from his hands before you let it fall onto the table. “I wanna practice.” You pout.
“What a bummer, princess.” He answers, taking his jacket back to slip it on. “I don’t. Now get your stuff, and then-“ He tells you, walking closer before he points to the door behind you. “-get out.” He demands.
And you just angrily huff at yourself, doing just that.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You fail to get to practice on time again the day after.
And the day after that.
But on friday, Jungkook has finally had enough of your poor excuses and frankly stupid behavior.
"Why is she late this time?" Jungkook asks your staff, jaw clenched as he's already frustrated again. You're clearly not taking this seriously, and he honestly doesn't know how anyone else has ever managed to work with you in any way.
"We're.. not sure." Your manager says, face showing his own shame about your behavior. "She turned her phone off, we can't reach her."
That's it.
Jungkook can understand a lot of things. You're used to being spoiled and having everything set in front of you on a silver platter- he gets that. Sometimes, people's minds can be poisoned by wealth and success. But turning off your phone? That's too far.
What if something actually happened? What if you're sick, in need of help, in danger? This is absolutely ridiculous behaviour, and he does not care anymore. "She said she lives in the city here, right?" Jungkook asks, and the manager nods. "Alright, where exactly?" He wonders, and a stylist of yours calls out your address.
And that sets him off even further- because you barely live ten minutes away from him. Which means there's not even a single reason as to why you would be late at all.
"What are you going to do?" Your manager worries as Jungkook changes his shoes and slips on his jacket, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle.
"I'm getting her myself."
If there’s one thing Jungkook hates, then it’s people isolating themselves just for their own convenience. It’s mainly due to his best friend years back doing that constantly- turning off his phone to get some quiet time for himself, until he actually did end up being in trouble.
And when someone tried to call him, and couldn’t get a hold of him, they just thought ‘It’s probably one of those days again.’
If Jungkook didn’t go against his better judgement, if he didn’t end up checking up on him despite his mind telling him that it was for nothing, Yoongi would not be alive today.
He rings your doorbell multiple times, annoyingly so to get you to stand up at some point. There’s no way you can sleep through that, especially when he starts angrily knocking onto your door. Suddenly, you open it, staring at him with eyes barely open. “What.” You ask, and Jungkook takes a look at you for a second.
You’ve clearly been asleep, but you don’t look rested at all- eyes barely open as you glare at him, and funnily enough, one of your ears is even a bit floppy- not quite entirely down, but also no standing as straight as it usually does. “You’re late.” Jungkook scolds. You attempt to close the door again, making him attempt something dangerous.
He puts his hand in between the door.
But, maybe Jimin wasn’t so wrong after all, because you immediately open the door again, now wide awake as you look at his hand, worried you might’ve hurt him. Only when you don’t find anything you push his palm back towards him, and cross you arms.
“Come on.” He says, nodding towards the hallway behind him.
“No.” You deny.
“What do you mean, no?’ he asks, agitated.
“I said no. I don’t wanna.” You answer, walking back into your apartment- and with your door left open, he takes it as an invitation to walk inside.
The second he closes the door and turns around, he’s in shock.
Cardboard boxes, trash bags, crumpled papers and wrappings all over the place. Shoes litter the entrance area, your coats are thrown over the chairs at your open kitchen which sink is filled with unwashed dishes. The windows are shut, curtains heavy as they hide the mess in your home from the outside world. It’s so dark that Jungkook feels like if he wasn’t a hybrid, he most likely wouldn’t be able to see where he’s stepping at all.
How long have you been living like this?
The apartment isn’t big, there doesn’t seem to be many rooms at all. After searching for a bit he finds you curled up in your large bed, pink bedsheets and blankets halfway on the floor while your little gaming console chimes and beeps while you play.
“..come on now, you’ve.. got the weekend off.” Jungkook says. “it’s just today-“
“I said I don’t want to.” You growl, face focused on your game. “now fuck off and leave me.”
Jungkook sighs. This really isn’t any of his business.
But somehow, as he walks back into the main area of the small apartment, he finds himself opening a new trashbag to throw away all the plastic strewn around. He puts your shoes in order, places the garbage bags in a corner to have them out the way, before he rips the cardboard apart to throw away easier later. He’s not sure why he’s doing that- maybe partially to annoy you and get you to get out of bed, or maybe because he pities you.
This isn’t just laziness. From the way you act, to the body language you scream out quietly, to the fact that you don’t seem motivated for anything at all.
This is something deeper.
“What’re you doing?” You growl from a corner, before you walk closer to rip the cardboard box from his hands, throwing it in a corner again. “I told you to fuck off.” You threaten, and he nods.
“heard it loud and clear.” He agrees with crossed arms, and you huff.
“Ears seem to be working then.” You snap. “the mistake must be in your brain.”
“I can assure you it’s working just fine as well.” He answers, and you snarl at that, distinctive canines showing.
“Then why are you still here digging through my shit?!” You bark at him, and he shrugs.
“Because no one deserves to rot away like this.”
It’s quiet at that, for a good moment. The only sound heard is the clock in the kitchen ticking, some faint rain against the windows, and a garbage bag slowly slipping a little from its position. And when it falls to the floor, he catches a short second of your eyes tearing up, before you turn around, looking away from him before you run off into your bedroom-
But the door won’t close with all the clutter, making you angrily growl at it while you try and somewhat pull it close.
Jungkook slowly walks towards you, to pull your hands off of the door handle, making you drop down to the floor in defeat, sitting right on your clothes that are laying on the floor. “leave me alone.” You cry to yourself, head low and hybrid ears even lower as you sit there, kicking away some of the clutter.
The wolfdog hybrid slowly squats down to your level, before he carefully moves a broken jar away from your leg and onto a small table close by. “What’s going on with you?” He finally asks, and you kick your leg again at that, a small box flying through the room.
“I just want to be alone!” You bark. “I don’t want anyone in here, I don’t want to go to practice, I don’t want to do this stupid contest, I don’t want anyone to look at me!” You complain loudly, and Jungkook would easily call this a textbook temper tantrum, if it wasn’t for your clearly desperate tears.
“did you tell your management?” He asks, and you scoff, sniffling.
“as if they care!” You huff. “it’s always just do this, do that, go here, eat that, smile, be nice, film everything.!” You tell him. “I want to go home!” You begin to cry now, hiding your face in your hands.
“Home?” Jungkook wonders, unsure what you mean. Isn’t this your home?
“I just wanna go home..” you continue to cry into your hands. “I wanna go see mom, and dad..” you mumble muffled into your palms, and Jungkook feels terrible seeing you like this. He doesn’t know you, but something is clearly not right. This isn’t acting, because your body language, your scent- everything tells him that you’re in genuine distress.
“Maybe you can visit them?” He wonders, slowly reaching out to put his hand on your knee, offering silent comfort that you, for now, seem to accept. “do they live far away-“
“they won’t let me.” You say. “they told them.. they told them I don’t wanna see them and that I hate them, and now they hate me.” You whimper.
“They?” the wolfdog asks, pushing some clutter to the side to sit down as well.
“the company.” You mumble. “because.. my dad didn’t want me to move away back when.. when I was still a pup.” You say. A pup possibly meaning that you were still underage. “and.. back then, I thought it was for the best. This was such a one-in-a-million chance..” you reveal to him. “I thought it was worth it.”
“Do they threaten you?” Jungkook worries, and you’re quiet for a moment.
“..They’re all I have.” You admit. “my.. my apartment. My money. My name. They own me.” You say, defeat evident in your voice as you slowly calm down again, tension leaving your body. “just.. leave me alone.”
“I cant.” Jungkook denies with a sigh. “not anymore.”
“fuck off-“ you start, grabbing at his hand, but he somehow moves it around, holding yours now instead.
“I won’t.” He sternly says. “Alright? I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out.” He promises, and you look up at him with slightly red eyes, confused.
“Figure out what?” You ask, and he smiles.
“How to bring you home.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You’re very clearly not very happy about Jungkook currently cleaning your apartment with you.
You’re slow and sluggish, and you constantly complain about everything- and Jungkook can somewhat understand it. You’ve quite literally buried yourself in this little cave, having someone take it apart like this must be horribly uncomfortable. But it’s for the best- and you’ll soon realize that.
That doesn’t mean you don’t annoy him, still.
“Come on now, get up.” Jungkook scolds you, as he watches you sit on the couch.
“What?” You complain. “I’m cleaning.. under the coffee table.” You pretend, but he doesn’t take that as an appropriate answer.
“We agreed on one area at a time. We’re still in the kitchen.” He says. “now get over here and help me with the dishes. I wash, you dry.” He decides, making you somewhat reluctantly get up. It’s odd to have anyone in your apartment at all, since not even staff is allowed inside- you constantly find and make up excuses to keep them out at all times. This is your only safe space, after all.
The only place no one is looking at you.
“yesterday..” jungkook slowly says, putting another plate towards you so you can dry it. “..you said that the company owns you.” He remembers, and you nod. “To what degree?”
“I have an independence license.” You say. An independence license is basically a permanent permit to live on your own, and also work on your own. Basically, with it, you don’t need an owner at all. “But.. the company has full control over my finances and such. And they own my, you know, brand name.” You shrug.
“I meant it, you know?” He tells you, draining the sink of the soapy water. “I’ll try and figure something out.”
“Don’t bother.” You simply say. “it doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Jungkook denies, drying his hands on a towel. But you stay silent as you put the dishes away in their proper places, not really sparing him any glance at all again.
Jungkook doesn’t really know yet how to help you. First, he wants to somehow get into contact with your parents and set things right again- maybe he can get their names and phone number from jimin who’s been working you for a good while now. And then, maybe they can help, too.
“I’m tired.” You complain as you sit down on the now finally somewhat clean floor, all the trash in bags and in a corner.
“You can take a nap.” Jungkook agrees, and you look at him with positive surprise.
“wait, really?!” You ask, tail wagging a little.
“sure. You’ve been working hard.” He approves. “and now that your couch isn’t cluttered, you can take a proper nap there.”
“Why not my bed?” You whine, disappointed.
“bed is for proper sleep. Couch is for naps.” He explains. “if you go to bed now you’ll just start rotting again.”
You stay quiet for a good moment, before you speak again, looking out the windows, curtains by now pulled open. Slowly, you walk over to the couch to sit down on, staring at your hands in your lap.
“I’m such a fuck up, am I not?” You sigh. “imagine if people knew how much of a failure I am.”
“You’re not a failure.” Jungkook denies, sitting down next to you on the couch. “just.. a bit lost at the moment.”
“Jungkook..” you say quietly, looking at his chest. “I really want to go home.” You admit, and he smiles softly.
“I know. And I’ll figure out a way, promise.” He offers, opening his arms. And much to his surprise, you take the invitation- even so much as to crawl onto his lap, leaning against his chest with your arms wrapped around him. It’s a lot more than he thought this was going to be, but he also can’t deny that this feels oddly comforting for him too.
And even though your tail is still limp and lifeless, at least you’re starting to open up. And maybe jimin was right after all.
Maybe you’re just acting tough.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Jungkook quickly learns that you really must’ve left home at a very young age- because you’re very much completely lost in translation when it comes to general tasks that fall onto someone when they live alone.
You’ve got no idea how to properly do laundry, you don’t know how to cook at all, and you have no idea what cleaning products to use for what. When he asked you if you had some window cleaner, you’d stared at him for a good second before you asked him why he can’t just use soap- and cooking in your book is simply boiling water for instant noodles.
It’s no wonder your apartment was in the state it was in. No one ever taught you how to look after yourself and your own home.
“Alright?” Jungkook asks while you stare at the washing machine with a determined gaze.
“put the clothes in, put the soap-squishy-thing in, close the door and then set it to that program there.” You repeat. Jungkook nods.
“But-?” He presses, and you stare at him for a second, thinking.
“But...uh..” you try and find an answer. “no colored stuff with white clothes? And no black with colors?” You try, and he grins, tail wagging.
“Good girl. See? You’re not dumb, you just didn’t know.” He praises. “now press start and then we can go laze around a little until it’s done.” He says, making you happily press the start button.
Something that Jungkook has noticed, is that the entire apartment seems oddly.. sterile almost, in that it looks and feels taken straight out of a magazine. You’ve got no thing personal it seems like, no blankets that aren’t a neutral color, no toys, no plushies despite you telling him by now that you love these things. Instead, you only really have your little gaming console and that’s it- your bedroom is mostly taken over by designer clothes and shoes, as well as all sorts of accessories. The bathroom contains shelves full of skincare for face and body, but everything else appears to be not at all to be your personality.
“You can get yourself some new blankets for the couch now that we’ve cleaned up.” Jungkook mentions, but at that you simply begin to pout next to him, legs pulled close to you as you slide down a little, slouching.
“Nah, they’ll say no.” You huff, watching the TV commercial play.
So you really meant it when you said that the company has full control over your money. He believed it might just involve big spendings, which would make sense- but it looks like it more so involves every single purchase you make instead.
“How long is your contract?” He asks, and you shrug.
“I think forever.” You say, flopping to the side, legs hanging off to the floor. “I don’t know.”
“Thats.. not legal.” Jungkook frowns. “did you never renew it?”
“Huh?” Your ears tilt towards him for a second. He still wonders why one of your ears is floppy these days. “..no. I don’t think I ever did.”
“I.. how long have you been with them?” He asks, and you hold your hands in front of you to start counting. And the more fingers you seem to add, the more concerned he becomes.
“Well, I uh.. wait, I left when I was..” you mumble to yourself. “and now that I’m.. I think eleven years?” You answer, looking at him.
The maximum contract length for hybrids is five years.
Five.
“I.. okay, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and you nod, slowly sitting up. “next time you’re at your company’s HQ, try and get a hold of a copy of your contract. But don’t tell anyone what you need it for.” He says.
If he can get a copy of whatever slave contract you’re under, getting you out of it will be easy. There’s strict laws for hybrids in place after all- one can’t just work them like pets, there’s rules every company has to follow. And that is the same in your industry as well.
“am I gonna go to jail?” You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.
“No no, you did nothing wrong.” He denies, reaching out to pet your head- pleasantly surprised when you visibly accept the gesture.
Because he speaks the truth. You did nothing wrong.
You were simply used from the start.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
On Monday, jungkook is standing at your door, 7 AM.
And you really, really do not want to go with him.
“Come on now-“ he urges again, pulling on your fluffy sweater while you cling to the doorframe of your apartment building entrance, having just seen what exactly Jungkook uses as his preferred means of transportation.
“No, you’re not getting me on that death-trap, no way in hell!” You complain, escaping his grasp just for a second before his arms are around your middle, easily removing your fingers from the door with a smile sent towards the security guard as reassurance, before he carries your struggling body towards his Harley. “No!” You complain. “This is kidnapping! Abduction!” You cry out, before he puts the helmet he’d gotten recently on your head, hands fastening the strap beneath your chin before he gets onto the motorcycle as well, sitting in front of you.
And the second it roars to life, you’re clinging to him with arms and legs involved, resulting in Jungkook adjusting your grip a little to not strangle him.
Well- at least he’s not driving fast.
“I hate you.” You complain when he removes the helmet again in the underground parking lot beneath the dance studio, pupils still blown wide, cheeks a bit flushed.
“If you just got up yourself like a big girl, I wouldn’t have to drive you.” He easily tells you, helping you down from the vehicle. “we’ll do this again and again until you learn.” He explains, stepping into the elevator with you- still lowly growling to yourself, pissed off at his attitude.
You’re not a kid. He’s stupid.
But it does work, because at least you somewhat practice with him for a few hours, before you stubbornly lay down starfish style in the middle of the practice room, demanding a break- one he grants for once, even if it’s just ten minutes.
“I really don’t wanna go to that contest.” You huff, half of your face squished against the shiny floorboards. Jungkook slowly walks towards you, squatting down to flick his finger against one of your ears that’s again, a little floppy today.
“I know.” He answers, because he does still remember your outburst, devastating cries edged into his mind.
“Hey Jungkook?” you ask, as he absent-mindedly rubs your ear between his fingers, almost enchanted by the softness of it.
“Yeah?” He answers, noticing the way you clearly enjoy such a simple touch to the fullest. You’re constantly surrounded by people, and yet it’s clear that you’re touch-starved and just treated like a doll and nothing else. How lonely must you have been until now?
“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “or a boyfriend?” You wonder, leaning into his hand with closed eyes.
“No.” He answers, unsure and most of all suspicious.
“nice.” You smile, tail wagging softly. “I’m your girlfriend then.” You decide, and he freezes.
“...what?” He asks, sitting down now, a water bottle next to his crossed legs. “You can’t.. that’s not how it works.” He explains, but you shrug.
“My mom and my dad didn’t like each other either.” You reply, staring at nothing ahead, chin on your hands. “they just.. got together out of convenience. Cause they were the same hybrid breed, and I guess didn’t have anyone else at the time.” You mumble. “love isn’t real anyways. I’m pretty- isn’t that enough for you to like me?” You ask, turning your head to look at him with a gaze so.. detached that it makes him feel pity.
Is that your view on the world around you?
“You are pretty.” He responds. “but that’s not a foundation for.. a relationship.” He shakes his head.
“I don’t mind that you’re a mix.” You shrug. “you’re handsome, I’m pretty, and I have money.” You say. “if we get together thousands will flock to your dance studio. You’ll be super successful. “ You propose to him. “doesn’t even have to be for long. You can just.. I don’t know. Spend some time with me until you get bored, and then move on.”
“No.” He denies again. You frown.
“Huh.” You huff, slowly sitting up. “whatever then, I guess.”
“Do you even like me?” he asks you, confused, and you shrug before nodding.
“You’re nice. A bit stick-up-you-ass, but overall nice.” You offer.
Jungkook just watches you for a second, in full disbelief at what had been done to you. Raised in a place of luxury, with a golden spoon in your mouth and lies fed daily to create the view you have on everything around you right now. No kindness without some ulterior motive fits your reality. Everything has to be convenient for everyone involved.
“I don’t want a relationship without love, no matter what I might gain from it.” He explains himself, and you roll your eyes, before you flop onto your back, arms crossed again as you sulk. “You shouldn’t settle for less either.”
“Yeah well I wont get that.” You answer. “no one wants me. They want.. her.” You say, while twirling the silver name tag from around your neck in your fingers.
Until he leans over you, body entirely covering yours for a second, causing you to become nervous and wide eyed at his bold move. He’s looking at your neck, and you’re sure he must’ve realized what’s in it for him- after all, everyone is out for something to gain.
His hands move around your neck, fingers warm. You close your eyes as his face draws closer, awaiting the inevitable.
When suddenly, the collar around your neck is undone, and pulled off your neck.
“what-“ you ask, eyes open again as you watch him still above you, now looking into your eyes, and no longer anywhere else.
“I don’t want her.” He says, referring to the name on the tag around your neck that’s now in his hand, pushed into the floorboards where he holds himself up.
“But I’d like to get to know you instead.”
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ponderingmoonlight · 28 days
Text
Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you
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Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,1k
Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.
Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie
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„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”
“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”
“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”
Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.
“I bet she slept her way up.”
Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?
“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”
“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”
“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.
They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?
“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.
“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.
“Most of them are trash. That one though…”
Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.
“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”
“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.
“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.
A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.
“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”
“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.
Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.
“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”
You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.
“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”
“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.
Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.
“What the hell is going on over there?”
You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.
Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.
“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.
You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.
“You have no i-“
An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?
“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”
When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.
“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”
Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.
And his dreadful orbs are set on you.
You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.
But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.
“So, this was you?”, he questions.
There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.
Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.
“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.
It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.
No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.
“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”
Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?
“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”
He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-
“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.
You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?
“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“
“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”
 “What?”, you blurt out.
And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…
You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.
“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.
“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.
Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.
“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”
The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.
-one week later-
“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.
Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.
“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.
It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.
“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.
“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”
“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.
“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”
“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”
“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”
Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…
Right?
He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen
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penkura · 1 month
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First Mother's Day
Note: I decided to do a special post in what is now my OP Men as Dads series, and do a Mother's Day headcanon/blurb post. I understand this day can be rough for some, but I hope that whether you celebrate or not, whether your mom is in your life or not, that you have a lovely day otherwise and if this isn't your cup of tea, I hope there's something else that can entertain you today. <3
If you'd like my thoughts on other OP men as dads (Shanks, Kid, Usopp, etc.), please just ask and I'll give an answer! I'll include Luffy in this despite my viewing him as a son or brother, but it probably won't be x Reader based. Requests are being worked on as well.
I am using baby Ace image to break up this and the actual content from now on lol. He's just so cute. 🥺
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Ace is going to go all out for your first Mother’s Day. He’s buying flowers, candies, and cards, all from him and your daughter. Even if you tell him you don’t want anything except a quiet day at home with the two of them, he’s buying you gifts.
He’ll likely buy you a bracelet with your daughter’s name on it, or maybe a charm bracelet with her birthstone, so you can add any more in the future if/when you have more children. Ace will try to make you breakfast in bed, but he ends up burning the bacon to the point your smoke alarm goes off, and you have to open all the windows to air out the house the rest of the day (at least it’s a nice day out). He orders out breakfast from a nearby diner to make sure you have something that morning, he’ll even try to take your daughter out for a walk or to Luffy and Sabo’s place for the day to give you a break, but you insist on going along.
“You should have the day off though!”
“Ace, I don’t want a day off. Rogue is only three month’s old, and I’d much rather spend the day with you and her than alone. That’s not a fun Mother’s Day to me.”
The three of you end up at Luffy and Sabo’s place, the two uncles absolutely adoring their niece as she coos and lets them hold her without any crying or fussing. When you get home later that night, Ace watches you get Rogue ready for bed. He knew from the start that you would be a great mother, and sometimes, he just wishes his own mother was around to see it, and to meet her granddaughter.
~~
Law has a plan that gets thrown off when your son decides to be born a week earlier than expected, on Mother’s Day itself. He still tries to do something for you, even though the original plan of taking you out for brunch and giving you a quiet day at home while you waited for your baby to be born was now out the window. He should’ve known, ever since he met Luffy all his plans go haywire at some point. At least it led to you two meeting eventually.
Once you’ve gone to sleep and your son Rosi is in the nursery at the hospital, Law slips out to quickly put something together. He has a gift for you, a mother’s ring that will fit into your wedding band, he just needs flowers, or chocolate, or something to add to it. He doesn’t really like to be cliché, but he ends up with flowers, at least they’re something pretty you can have in your hospital room and when you’re released to take your baby boy home.
The girl in the hospital gift shops tells him he looks happy, even if Law doesn’t really show it. She swears it’s just something in the way he speaks while he asks her to pull together a small bouquet for you. He is happy, beyond that actually, knowing you two have a son, you both are healthy and safe. He has a family again, his very own. The flowers and ring aren’t enough to convey his gratitude to you for giving him a family to call his own, but it’s a start. There will be plenty more times for him to do so in the future.
When Law gets back to your room, you’re awake again and in the middle of nursing your son, a nurse helping you when you need it. She notices the flowers he’s brought and leaves you both with a smile, saying she’ll come back in a few minutes.
“Where’d you get off to?”
“Had to get something,” Law comes over and presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you a smile, “Happy Mother’s Day.”
~~
Penguin has thought of what to do every day since your daughter Wren was born. He’s come up with multiple ways to celebrate your first Mother’s Day, but nothing seems just right to him. He’s thought of brunch, breakfast in bed, giving you a day out with your friends while he watches your daughter, or even a weekend trip away, leaving your baby with her grandparents, but nothing works out. Restaurants and diners he calls are all booked up already, you hate eating in bed because of crumbs, your friends all had plans either with their own mothers or their spouses and kids, and your own parents were out of town for the next two weeks.
He ends up with no real plans for the day and feels terrible about it as it approaches. Its going to be another normal Sunday for the three of you, he hates the idea of that because it’s your first Mother’s Day, it should be special, shouldn’t it?
When the day finally comes around, Penguin is up first, hearing Wren’s little babbles through the baby monitor, and going to pick her up. At nine-months-old she’s figured out how to stand up on her own, still no steps being taken by herself, but when she sees Penguin enter the nursery, she grins and starts bouncing up and down, holding the rail of her crib and shouting “da” over and over. It makes Penguin smile as he picks her up, kissing her chubby cheek which makes her squeal.
“Good morning, Wren! Let’s keep quiet, mommy’s still asleep, okay?”
“Da!”
He laughs a bit, lifting her up over his head to make her giggle again, as she reaches her little hands towards his face.
“You know…a great gift would be for you to say ‘mama’ for the first time, yeah?”
“Ma?”
“Yeah, you’re close! Now, just say ‘mama’.”
Wren sticks her tongue out while she tries to speak, Penguin helping her along for several minutes until she finally says something close to ‘mama’.
“Mm…ma.”
Penguin sighs a bit, but nods as he brings Wren down and kisses her cheek again, making her giggle as she wraps her arms around his neck.
“You two sure have been having fun.”
Both look to you in the doorway, no shortage of smiles among the three of you, as Wren lights up and starts to reach for you, trying to say she wants you to hold her. You both take just a moment too long to get her to you, and it makes her fuss and kick her legs a bit.
“Ma…ma!”
You didn’t even get her in your arms, you and Penguin both freezing in place for a moment while Wren continues to fuss and whine, almost in tears since you haven’t held her yet.
“Mama!”
“I—”
“Her first word!!” You quickly take Wren from Penguin and hug her close, kissing her cheeks and forehead telling her how proud you are of your little girl. “This is the best Mother’s Day gift!”
At least that worked out, even if he didn’t have a plan in mind.
~~
Sanji wouldn’t have waited nearly a year to celebrate you as a mother if you hadn’t forced him to. With fraternal twins to now take care of and raise, you’ve both been through bouts of exhaustion and elation over the two babies you brought into the world. Sora and Angel, your precious blessings, were nearly a year old, and you’d already started planning a birthday party for them, completely ignoring the fact Mother’s Day was a few weeks prior to their turning one-year-old.
Sanji didn’t forget, he had a plan, one that included your twins scribbling away to make cards for you, though he didn’t expect the two to be so fussy about it and mark each other up more than the papers. He learned very quickly to not give babies or toddlers markers, unless they were washable. You still don’t fully realize how Sora ended up with a bright green mark over his right eye and Angel had a hot pink line down her left arm.
The rest was simple, breakfast in bed, made by your professional chef husband of course, and whatever else you wanted for the rest of the day. If you want to lay in bed and watch TV without interruption, he’d put your twins in the stroller and take them to the park. If you wanted to turn your phone off and sleep the day away, he’d take over and leave you alone until you needed anything. Whatever you want, it’s a day to celebrate you as the mother of his children, he wasn’t going to deny you anything.
But when you do tell him what you want, after finishing off breakfast, Sanji’s a bit surprised.
“Are you…sure?”
“Mm-hm,” you nod and try to keep Sora from grabbing the butter knife on the tray, making him whine while Angel slept in Sanji’s arms, “I want to spend the day with the three of you.”
“You…do that every day though, my love.”
“So?” smiling, you kiss the top of Sora’s head and watch Angel as she starts to stir awake, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands, “You guys are my family. I hate the idea of not being with the three of you today, so I’d rather just spend it like we always do.”
Sanji nods a bit, seeming to understand, greeting Angel when she wakes up fully with a kiss to the forehead. It makes you happy to watch him with both your children, but especially your daughter. How could he ever think you’d want to spend the day alone? Not when you had these two blessings as your children and Sanji as your husband.
“We could still take these two to the park later, maybe burn off some energy so they nap at a decent time.”
“Of course! Whatever you want, my love.”
~~
Zoro doesn’t even fully realize that its Mother’s Day until Nami says something to him. The past few weeks with your son have been exhausting for both of you, but he can’t believe he forgot that this was a thing. He has nothing planned and isn’t sure what to do. He’s running out of time, it’s literally just a few hours away before Nami offers to take you out for the day wherever the Sunny docks in the morning. Zoro will stay with your son on the ship, and you’ll get a day off from being a mom and wife, the two think it’s the best thing to give you on such short notice, though Nami does up the interest on his debt again for this.
You don’t even get to say good morning to your husband or son before Nami has dragged you off to whatever she has planned, its really just a normal girl’s day out with shopping and lunch. Most of what you buy isn’t even for you, it’s baby items that you need or clothes you think are adorable. It just ended up making you miss your son more as the day went on.
When you do get back to the ship, your son is wailing and no one has been able to calm him down, not even Zoro while he tries his hardest and lightly bounces your baby as he shushes him gently. As soon as you drop your bags you’re taking him from your husband and holding him close to calm him down.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, mommy’s here, Keitaro. I’m back.”
He slowly calms down once he realizes its you, burying his little face in your shoulder and keeping a tight grip on your shirt. When you ask Zoro what the deal was with Nami dragging you off the ship so early, before you even had the chance to hold Keitaro that day, he explains the situation and it just makes you tilt your head.
“…it’s Mother’s Day?”
You hadn’t even realized it. That just makes Zoro feel bad that it caused your son such distress, and he and Nami both apologize for not talking to you about it beforehand. They both assumed the other had discussed it with you. You didn’t really care to celebrate, all that mattered was being with your husband and son, the rest of your day spent with just the two of them.
Note 2: Out here dropping names like I didn't say I'd make a post about that at some point lol. So, the firstborns in order of character are Portgas D. Rogue, Trafalgar D. Rosinante (called Rosi cause it's too damn cute), Wren, Sora and Angel, and Roronoa Keitaro.
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headkiss · 2 years
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not just on christmas
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve’s parents are coming home for the holidays and he’s in need of a fake date. who better than you, his best friend?
word count: 8.2k
warnings: steve’s parents (derogatory), negative comments about his job, fake dating, friends to lovers, christmas themes, fluff, first kiss!
a/n: i had lots of fun with this one and i hope u guys like it!!! merry christmas and happy holidays i hope they treat u all well <33 consider this my gift to you :D
The phone ringing forces Steve out of bed. Floors cool on his feet, the air a chill on his bare chest, he rubs his eyes lazily and picks it up.
“Hello?” He clears his throat to get rid of the sleep in his voice.
“Steve, why do you sound tired, it’s nearly noon!”
It’s no surprise that the first words aren’t asking him how he is. He’s shocked she cared enough to pick up on the tone of his voice at all. “Hi, mom.”
He doesn’t even know where she’s calling from, doesn’t know what business trip they're on. He can’t remember the last time he got a phone call that wasn’t you, or Robin, or Dustin, or anyone else other than his parents.
Steve’s not even excited to be hearing from them, because it’s a reminder that they’re not around, that they haven’t forgotten about him, they just don’t care.
He wishes you were the one that called.
“Listen, sweetie, your dad and I are coming home for Christmas this year, isn’t that great?”
He deflates, “yeah. Super.”
“There’s a business event he wants to take you to. And we’ll find you a date,” there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. “You can make some connections, maybe get out of your job at that video store soon.”
The thing is, he actually likes working at Family Video, but he knows that doesn’t matter. Then there’s the topic of the girlfriend, or lack thereof. His parents are always nagging him about when he’ll settle down, grow roots, or something.
Maybe that’s why he says, “I can get my own date. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh! That’s fantastic! She’ll have dinner with us, won’t she? What’s her name?”
Like an idiot, he says your name. The first one that came to his mind.
You’re his best friend, and it’s easy to let his thoughts drift to you. The problem is, he has no idea how he’s going to explain this to you, how he can ask you to fake date him just to satisfy his parents for once.
If he wasn’t still on the phone, Steve would be groaning into a pillow right now.
“Okay, sweetie, your dad has a brunch we have to get to. We’ll see you soon!”
“Bye, mom. See you.”
He hangs up and sighs in relief. That feeling is quick to fade when he remembers that he had just named you his girlfriend in the midst of his phone call. He drops his face into his hands, runs them through his hair, and tries to figure out how the hell to bring up the subject with you.
To go along with that, he has to worry about his parents coming home. Though, can they really call it ‘home’ when they’ve been gone for so long? When they’ll leave again after a few days, a week at most?
Most people would be happy, excited, about their parents being around for the holidays. Steve’s not. He’d rather spend it how he has since the two of you became friends. Breakfast at your house with your family—who have become family for Steve, too—presents opened with scented candles burning and Christmas albums spun on the record player.
You went out of your way to include him, and he’s never felt so welcome in his life as he does when he’s with you.
At least, if you agree, you’ll be with him this year, too.
-
It’s the next day when Steve decides to bring it up. You’re at his house for movie night, which has become a weekly ritual for the two of you. He’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say since he hung up the damn phone. He’s given up and instead hopes it’ll come to him in the moment.
Today, Steve’s quiet, which is unlike him. You know something’s on his mind and you try to avoid asking him about it, trying to let him talk about it on his own time. It’s about halfway through the movie that you change your mind.
He didn’t complain when you showed up with your cheesy Christmas movie choice, he didn’t light-heartedly tease you about your outfit of choice (some festive patterned pajama pants and a sweater that’s so worn there are holes in the neckline), and the most unusual, he didn’t make a single joke or comment as the movie played.
He’s really, really quiet.
You pick up the remote and pause it, “what’s going on with you, Steve?”
He looks at you, catches your eye and sees nothing but genuine concern. Sometimes he hates the way you know him so well. He can never hide anything from you.
“What? Nothing.”
You blink at him, “come on.”
“Fine, okay. Just, don’t say anything until I’m done, please.”
“Okay,” you pretend to zip your mouth shut, ready to listen.
“My mom called yesterday and told me they’re coming home for Christmas, and that there’s this business thing they want me to go to, and that I need a date for it,” he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And you know how they’re always on my ass about me being single and stuff so I kind of told her I already had a girlfriend, and maybe I told her that girlfriend is you.”
What?
There’s a lot to process there. Mostly the fact that out of all of the names he could have chosen, he said yours. You wait for him to explain some more, but he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for a reply, so, your mouth is now unzipped.
“So, what exactly does that mean?”
He mutters a curse under his breath. “Um, so, I need you to pretend to be my actual girlfriend while they’re here.”
His use of the word ‘need’ is telling. Steve’s not one to ask for help, not even when he needs it the most but here he is, nervous and a little pink-cheeked, asking for your help.
You let the thought sit in your head for a bit. It’s not hard for you to want to agree. Steve’s your best friend, and you’d do pretty much anything for him. Though, that might also have to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with him for years.
You know more about his relationship with his parents then most do, so if you can make their visit more bearable for him in any way, why wouldn’t you?
“Okay,” you say.
“Okay? Like, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m happy to help.”
That was a lot easier than Steve thought it’d be. You barely even questioned him before agreeing, and that’s not lost on him.
“Thank you so much, seriously,” he throws his arm over your shoulders, squeezes you to him in a side hug. “It’s only a few days, then we can go back to normal.”
“Easy peasy,” you say, reaching for the remote and hitting play.
Aside from your wanting to help him, to be there for him like you know he would for you, you’re also curious to see what it’s like to be with Steve that way, even if it’s fake. It’s hopeless, the way you love him, like the moon orbiting the earth around and around. Constant.
Sure, those feelings will probably only swell because of the fake relationship, but you’ve been housing them for long enough anyway.
What could go wrong?
-
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Robin says from the other side of a clothing rack, sifting through the pieces.
She’s the first, and only, person you told about the fake dating thing. Naturally, she decided she’d help you shop for a dress to wear to this business thing and talk about it at the same time.
The mall is decorated, garlands and lights strung, a big Christmas tree lit up in the middle of it all.
“It’s only a couple of days. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m talking about you being in love with him,” she deadpans.
“Robin, not so loud.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
You know she’s being honest, and though the thought has been at the back of your mind, a whisper, you’d like to believe that you can handle a fake relationship without ruining things because of your big, big feelings.
“I spend time with him alone a bunch. It’s not that much different, okay?”
“Besides the fact that you’ll be calling him boyfriend and acting like it, too, you mean.”
Actually, you’ve been trying not to think about what exactly pretending to be his girlfriend entails. You don’t know if he’ll hold your hand, if he’ll hold you closer than he has before, if he’ll kiss you. You think it might be better to wait and see, to not let the possibilities eat at you.
“I know it sounds bad, but it’s Steve. Nothing major will happen. We’re friends and I’m helping him out.”
Robin’s in a tricky spot. She knows how you feel about Steve, obviously, and though he doesn’t see it yet himself, she knows that Steve feels the same, too. It’s taken a lot to hold herself back from speeding things along, and as much as she wishes this fake relationship plan might be a good push, things usually aren’t so easy.
She can also tell that there’s a lot you’re thinking but not saying, but instead of pushing it, she returns to looking at the dresses. It’s not long before she gasps, pulling one of the rack to show you.
“This one,” she says.
“I don’t know. That won’t look good on me.”
It’s pretty, though. You’ll give her that.
“Shut up, everything looks good on you. Will you at least try it on?” She wiggles the hanger in her hand, “for me?”
“Fine.”
You take it from her, walking back towards the fitting rooms with a grinning Robin in tow. She waits outside the door while you change into the dress.
Once it’s on, looking in the mirror, you don’t even know what to think. You’re not one to feel all that confident in what you wear, or in how you look, but this dress makes you feel pretty. Maybe you should make Robin pick out all of your clothes.
“Let me see!” Robin calls.
You step out of the changeroom, doing a shy little spin when she asks. She’s smiling proudly, like she knows she chose well (which she did). She can’t help but think of how Steve will react, because she knows he feels something for you, she can see it on his face everytime he talks about you. He’s just a dork and he doesn’t realize it. Not yet, at least.
“What do you think?” You ask.
“If Steve’s not already in love with you…”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
If she does, your brain will conjure up way too many ideas of what could possibly happen. If Steve could really feel the same. If maybe he’ll feel those same butterflies in his stomach that you do, if his heart feels bigger when you’re around. In your dreams, he does.
“I’m trying to tell you you look hot!”
-
December twenty-third is the day that Steve’s parents come home as well as the night of the business event. You and Steve have tried to figure out how to act like a couple, quizzing each other on things you already know, setting loose boundaries, but you figure after knowing each other for so long, being so close, it won’t feel much different than now. Besides the extra touching, the possibility of kissing.
You’re already at his house when his parents get home, your makeup and outfit for tonight sitting in Steve’s room. The two of you linger near the front door waiting for their arrival, a nervous and jittery welcoming committee.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway grabs your attention. It’s a clapperboard snapping shut, marking the scene. Action.
“You ready, babe?” He holds out his arm for you to grab, and you do.
“Time to be the best couple ever,” you reply.
Steve grins at you. He has no idea how to thank you for agreeing to do this, how to even explain to you the relief you’re sure to bring. It’s one less thing for his parents to pick and pry at.
The door opens, and you can already feel a change in Steve’s demeanor. He’s standing straighter, stiffer. You squeeze his arm, a reminder that you’re there.
“Steve, sweetie!” His mother barely greets him before moving onto you, “and this is your girlfriend?”
“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.”
If it were someone else’s mother, you’d be hit with the usual ‘oh please, call me (insert name here).’ However, where the Harringtons are concerned, formality is a must. Besides Steve, of course. From what you know, the apple had fallen very, very far from the tree and you mean that as a compliment.
Even after being friends for so many years, this is the first time you’re actually meeting Steve’s parents. It’s clear that he’s never jumped at the opportunity to have his friends around when they’re home. He’s told you about them, and that’s enough for you.
“Steve! Come help me with the bags, would you?” His dad calls from outside, though he says it as a demand rather than a question.
“Yep, coming,” he replies. He kisses the side of your head before going outside, quick and sure, like he’s done it hundreds of times.
“How was your trip, Mrs. Harrington?” You fill the silence.
“Oh, just lovely, thank you,” she moves to the kitchen, expecting you to follow. “The house looks clean. Do you have something to do with that?”
Despite her trying to sound like she’s joking, you know that she truly doesn’t believe that Steve could be the one keeping the place going. As if he hasn’t been doing just that for ages.
“No, no. It’s really Steve.”
Her eyebrows raise, surprised.
Steve and his father walk in before anything else is said—thank God. You shake hands with Mr. Harrington, saying hello and wearing a tight smile. Steve’s quick to come to your side, an arm over your shoulders like a shield. Your hand moves to hold the one resting on your shoulder.
He’s even more tense when his father’s in the room, you’ve noticed. You hold his hand a bit tighter. You wish you could do something to make him feel better, and you hope that this fake relationship will do that at least a little bit.
Meanwhile Steve’s wondering how your presence could make him feel much better than he usually does with his parents around. You’re a comfort beside him, and when he gets the chance, he kisses your head again, whispering a ‘thank you’ into your hair.
-
The first few hours with Steve’s parents go by dreadfully slow, even with his touch on you most of the time. You’re quickly learning that as a boyfriend—even fake—Steve’s love language is easily physical touch. He has an arm around you, a hand in yours, on your leg, anything.
You’re also learning just how strained his relationship with his parents is. He’d trusted you enough to tell you most of it, but seeing them interact in front of you was different. The backhanded comments, the faces whenever he mentions his job, it makes your heart ache for him.
It’s bad enough that his parents are hardly ever around, but having them act like this when they are? You’re amazed at how good Steve has remained through it all.
When it’s time to get ready for the business party, you’re thankful for the reprieve.
“Think we’re doing a good job?” You ask Steve as he shuts the door to his room.
“They seem to be buying it. Thanks again for doing this.”
“You’ve thanked me like a hundred times, Steve. It’s okay, really.”
You want to tell him that you’re sorry these are the people he has to call family. That he shouldn’t listen to any of the shit they give him about his job or his lack of post-secondary education. That he’s the best boy you’ve ever known.
The problem is, you don’t know how to say all of that without making your feelings for him painfully obvious.
“Just gotta keep it up ‘til Christmas. That’s when they leave.”
“They’re only here for two days?” You knew the trip was going to be short, but forty-eight hours?
“Yeah, something about getting a deal on a cruise. I don’t know.”
He says it so casually, like it’s normal. You guess that for him, it is, but it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.
“Does that mean you’ll come to mine for Christmas day? Like usual?” You ask, hopefully lightening the mood.
“If you’ll have me.”
“Shut up, you’re always welcome. Think my mom likes you more than me anyway,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, then move to bring your stuff into his bathroom to start getting ready.
He leans on the doorframe, watching you set your makeup out on the counter, “she does not.”
“Steve, you have your own stocking hanging on our fireplace. And it’s bigger than mine.”
He smiles genuinely then, the first one since his parents have arrived.
He leaves you to get ready, shutting the bathroom door for when you change. You can still hear him through the door. The opening and closing of his drawers, a curse when he stubs his toe.
So far, pretending to be with Steve has been easy. You’ve acted the same save for the touches or small pecks he’s decided to keep placing on your head or your cheeks. The story you settled on was simple: you met him picking up a movie at Family Video, he asked if you needed company to watch it, the rest is history, blah blah blah.
Steve knocks on the bathroom door when you’re pretty much ready, you glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before opening it.
He stands with his tie in hand, wearing a button up and dress pants. You assume there’s a suit jacket to go along with it, and you think it might kill you. He’s so pretty, and he looks it all of the time but seeing him dressed up is really something.
“You look good, Steve,” you say. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Thanks. You look- you too.”
Steve’s stunned. He realizes he’s never seen you in anything formal and it’s making him feel all fluttery in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s always known you’re gorgeous, in an obvious way like how the sky is blue. Now, though, it’s like he can feel it.
He clears his throat quietly and remembers the reason he knocked in the first place, “you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you?”
You’re thankful for the time you decided to learn how when you were bored one day. You take the fabric from his hands, “it’s your lucky day, Steve.”
“Thank you. Didn’t wanna have to go ask my dad.”
He’s almost shy about wanting your help over something so small, his cheeks a little pink, his head bent. You give him a reassuring smile—or what you hope is one—and place the tie around his neck.
His eyes are on you as your hands fiddle with the fabric, doing it up for him. Your eyebrows are slightly scrunched, and he wants to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. He’s not used to having that urge.
You finish up successfully after having fumbled a little bit, adjusting the tie so it isn’t crooked.
“There you go,” you pat his chest and he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat, the way it’s quicker than normal.
He has no idea what that’s about.
“Thanks.”
“‘Course.”
He’s still standing close to you, enough that he has to keep his head tilted downwards just a little to be able to look at your face. Your eyes lock onto his, and time seems to slow. You’re so gone for him and you know it, but it almost seems like maybe he’s feeling something too. Just for a moment.
His father calling out that it’s time to go snaps you out of it.
Steve grabs his jacket, shrugging it on then offering you his hand to hold, “let’s do this, girlfriend.”
-
The hall is oozing Christmas when you walk in, Steve’s hand in yours. Ornaments hang down from the ceiling, warm white string lights line the top of the walls, Christmas music hums through the speakers, and an extravagant Christmas tree sits in the middle of the room.
You’ve never been to an event like it, and you have a hard time keeping your nerves at bay.
Pretending in front of Steve’s parents alone was one thing. Now, the stakes are higher. You have to be convincing and though it’s not difficult for you to pretend to be in love with Steve (you don’t have to fake that at all), you worry that you’ll slip up somehow and give yourself away. Both in the sense that the relationship is fake, and that your feelings are anything but.
It’s not long before Steve’s father gets pulled into a conversation, and his mother goes along with him. You’re left standing near the doorway with Steve, biting at the inside of your cheek.
“Relax,” he leans his head close to yours and whispers.
“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“We’re fine. You’re fine,” he squeezes your hand, something that’s quickly become a wordless reassurance between you. “We’ve done good so far, right?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Except for the fact that I love you and that you being a really good fake boyfriend isn’t helping.
“Okay.”
He smiles and leads you further into the room. The smile he gives you is different from the one he gives the people that say hi to him, the people that stop him for a chat. For you, it’s honest. For them, it doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t mean anything.
“About time you tied someone down, Steve,” a man says to him. A coworker of his father’s, just like most men in the room.
“Think she’s the one who got me, but yeah.”
“That’s sweet. Next step is to get you a stable job, huh?”
It seems like all anyone here is concerned about is what people do, who they know. It’s no fun for you and they aren’t even speaking to you directly most of the time.
“Sure. Good to see you,” Steve excuses the both of you from the conversation.
“These people suck,” you say to him, leading him to the bar set up in a corner.
“Tell me about it.”
You order water for the both of you, something to get rid of the dryness in your throat and occupy you for a bit. You drink quietly before Steve speaks up.
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
He doesn’t know why it slips out now, but it does. The thought has been on his mind since he saw you standing there in his bathroom, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore.
“You don’t have to say that, Steve. Nobody’s listening.”
“I mean it, seriously.”
“Oh,” you look down at your glass, at the condensation running down the side. The corners of your mouth lift, “thank you.”
“I know this isn’t the most fun, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admits. He’s always been sweet to you, but this feels different. You don’t know how or why, but it does.
“I am too.”
Steve’s dad interrupts your moment, pulling Steve off to meet some people. Already, there’s a guard being put up by him, a shield he saves for his father.
For those few minutes, where it was just you and Steve, you realized that he’s probably the best date you’ve ever had. He pays attention to you, he’s comforting without even trying, and he compliments you with so much honesty you could melt.
He’s the best date you’ve ever had and it’s fake. It’s becoming a mantra repeated in your head; it’s not real, it’s not real.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice the boy who’s sat next to you now.
“I’ve never seen you before,” he says.
“I’m not usually at these things. I came with my boyfriend,” you tell him, unsettled by his stare.
“And where is this boyfriend now?”
“He’s out there. I just needed some water but he’ll come back soon.”
You’re trying to get him to go away, to take the hint. He won’t.
“Why don’t I keep you company in the meantime?”
You’re about to reply when someone else does it for you, “not necessary. She’s my girl.”
My girl. Steve. He stands behind you, wraps his arms around your waist. It’s like he knew you needed him then, showing up as soon as you felt like you wanted to search for him. He runs his hands over your sides, a possessive touch that has your skin tingling.
“My bad, man. Thought she was lying about the boyfriend,” the guy says.
“She wasn’t. Even if she was, maybe you should learn to tell when someone isn’t interested, yeah?”
The stranger nods and walks off.
You spin in Steve’s hold, facing him. “My hero.”
“You know me,” he shrugs.
What he doesn’t say is that seeing another guy talk to you made his gut churn, bringing something that he didn’t want to admit was jealousy. He also saw the look on your face, the discomfort, and felt his feet carry him over before his mind could think it first.
His hands are still on your waist, even with the stranger gone.
-
It’s not until Steve’s parents are ready that you leave. They’ve taken advantage of the champagne that sat on trays, free for the taking, as well as the opportunity to talk up their son to many, many people. It seems they’re only proud of him when there’s other people around, and even then, the praise doesn’t hold much weight.
He’s trying his best. At least he’s working. He’s got a girlfriend now. No, he doesn’t host backyard parties while we’re gone anymore.
You wish you could speak up, but you know, with this many people around, it’d cause more harm than good. It’s hard to listen to the people that raised Steve talk about him the way they do. You want so badly to shout in their faces how brilliant he is, no thanks to them. How he has the kindest soul and a sort of midas touch that makes everything shine.
At least, you think he does. You promise yourself to love him better than they ever did, even if it’s in secret.
One memory from the night overpowers the rest, luckily. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played, a slower rendition, and a slow dance ensued. You watched couples split off, and when you looked at Steve, he was already looking at you, a question on his face and a hand outstretched.
You fell into step with him quickly. It wasn’t awkward for a second. One of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, his on your waist. You swayed together, unknowingly moving closer until you were close enough to rest your head on his chest. And you did.
He rested his head atop of yours and hummed the song softly. You’ll dream about that dance, probably.
Now, you sit in the car with Steve, who’s become the driver. He drops his parents off at his house first, leaving the two of you alone for the drive to yours. He sneaks glances at you at stop signs and red lights, turning back to the road when he thinks he’s been caught.
His mind is full because he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. He sees parts of you that he was blind to before. The shape of your lips, for example. The dip of your spine and the way it feels to hold you. It’s dizzying and warm, confusing and sparkling all at once.
Once he’s pulled up to your house, he offers to walk you to the door. Ever the gentleman. A romantic no matter how much he denies it, you think. He gets misty-eyed when you watch rom-coms, opens doors for you, has bought flowers for nearly all of his dates, as far as you know.
What must it be like to receive flowers from Steve Harrington?
He faces you on your front porch, hands in his pockets, “thank you again for doing this.”
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay. I’m happy to help you, Steve. You’re my best friend.” Who I love more than anyone.
“You’re mine, too, honey.”
It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Turns out, it was his default to use in your fake relationship. It is, however, the first time he’s said it when it’s just the two of you. It sounds sweet coming from his lips, sticky. Just like honey itself.
“What time should I be over for dinner tomorrow?” You ask. It’s the last hurdle of the fake dating.
“How ‘bout I come pick you up after I finish work?”
“Yeah, okay, that’d be great, thanks.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold of December biting your skin.
“Here,” Steve notices, of course he does, and he reaches out with his hands, rubbing them up and down your arms to warm you.
“How’re your hands still warm?” You ask.
“I'm magic.”
You smile at that. He has no idea.
He reaches up with one hand to cup your cool cheek, and you nudge your face into his touch. For the warmth, you tell yourself. That’s it. His thumb runs over your skin, once, twice.
“Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty smile?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it. You don’t, though, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in your gut because of it.
“Shut up,” you try to mask your bashfulness.
Then, just like that, his face is close to yours. So close that it looks like he might kiss you. His eyes flick from your mouth up to yours, like he’s unsure of what’s happening while he’s doing it.
You can feel his breath tickling your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. Before that can happen, he’s swerving away quickly, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. The one he isn’t holding. His mouth lingers for a second.
“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin.
“Night,” you say, dazed. And he’s walking away.
Steve’s not at all sure what’s come over him. He wanted to kiss you just then, to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you stupid. What the fuck was happening to him?
When you let your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parted slightly, like you’d let him kiss you, like you wanted it, too, he panicked. Couldn't do it.
No, he doesn’t know what just happened, why it did, or why he’s resisting the urge to go back and knock on your door and actually kiss you when you open it. What he does know is that his heart seems to be doing something funny when you’re around, and that your fake relationship has been better than any of his real ones.
He knows he needs to talk to Robin about this.
-
Steve had to work the next morning—Christmas Eve—which he was actually thankful for. Thankful to get away from his parents, though the comments about his job followed him out the door this morning. Especially thankful because he needs to talk to Robin and sort out the mess of his feelings that has occurred in the last twenty four hours.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you. About how his stomach was all twisty when you slow danced with him. There are so many moments playing over in his memory. Not just from yesterday, either.
He remembers the way his stomach would sink when you’d tell him about a date you had or how he’d often reach out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, or to wipe something away from the corner of your mouth.
So many things over your friendship that he never thought about are coming back to him and he’s realized he doesn’t act that way with any of his other friends. Only you.
He also realizes that he hasn’t really been pretending with you at all.
“I think I love her,” Steve blurts out while he and Robin are organizing returns, the store luckily empty.
Robin reaches into her pocket, barely fazed, and tosses a handful of confetti at Steve. Some pieces stick to his hair, some to his clothes, most of it at his feet.
“What the hell?” He shakes the flecks out of his hair, “we have to clean that now.”
“I’ve been carrying around confetti for like a year waiting for this to happen!”
“Wait, what?”
“Steve, you’ve been loving her for a long time, hate to break it to you.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” He’s no longer preoccupied with the confetti.
“I was letting you do it on your own time. You’re welcome.”
Steve had only just deduced that he’s in love with you and yet, when he thinks about you, he feels the same way he has for years. He finds it hard to believe that he’s been blind to it for that long, but he has been called an idiot enough in his lifetime for it to make sense.
Then, there’s the fact that you’re not done fake dating yet, that there’s still dinner today to get through and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep himself together.
“What am I gonna do, Robin?”
“You’re gonna tell her how you feel and I will finally know peace.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I freak her out?”
“Steve, she looks at you like sun shines from your pores,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”
-
He picks you up after work as promised, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter, his greeting a little louder than normal. You figure he’s just nervous about dinner.
Nobody brings up the almost kiss, and you don’t plan to. Maybe you read things wrong. Maybe he was aiming for your cheek all along. Maybe he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.
It seems that your feelings for Steve are present now more than ever. Impossible to ignore. It might have something to do with the Christmas spirit floating around, the lightness of the holidays. It definitely has something to do with you being Steve’s fake girlfriend.
Because it turns out, he’s an excellent boyfriend, real or not.
He opens doors for you, even if he has to jog ahead of you to do it. He’s always got at least one hand on you, warm and sure. He looks at you with so much care, his brown eyes stuck on you.
It’s all adding up and you feel like your love for him is overflowing, pouring out of you before you can reel it in. You just hope he doesn’t notice that you’re not acting, that you never were.
Walking into Steve’s kitchen, you pause in the doorway, him behind you, “this smells great, Mrs. Harrington.”
Though Steve knows she probably bought most of the stuff and then put it in pots and pans to make it look like she cooked, he agrees, “so great, mom.”
She turns to look at you both from her spot by the stove, “thank you. Oh!” She cuts herself off with a gasp, her gaze drifting above your heads.
Oh no.
“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing.
“Look at that,” you laugh, short and awkward.
“Steve, sweetie, kiss your girlfriend for tradition's sake, won’t you.”
He kisses you on the cheek.
“A real one, son,” his father pipes up from his seat at the table.
Steve finds your gaze, his eyes wide and questioning. Are you okay with this? He’s asking without saying it. You nod, barely there, but you nod and he sees it.
He cups your cheek in his hand, flashes of last night on your porch come to you. He leans in slowly, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. Instead of doing that, you hold his wrist in your hand, squeeze it. Your silent communication.
In a blink, his lips are on yours. Pillowy and almost shy, but he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re floating, your feet off the ground and everything. He pulls away before you can even register the fact that it happened.
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your lips still burning with the memory of his.
Steve can't believe he hasn’t kissed you before. You’re soft and you fit together so well, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place. He’s kicking himself for not doing it last night, when you were alone, when it was real. Next time he kisses you, he thinks, it will be real.
He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, “so, let’s eat.”
Just like that, he’s moving to the table, pulling out a chair for you and kissing the top of your head once you’ve sat down. Already, the extra affection he’s been giving you has been dizzying. Now, it’s dialed way up.
He helps his mom serve the food before he sits down, though all he gets as a thank you is a pat on the cheek. Next to you, you can see Steve’s leg bouncing up and down. You reach out and place a hand above his knee, stilling him and drawing his gaze to yours.
You smile, and you hope it’s enough to say it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine. He rests his hand on top of yours, fingers laced together.
“So, Steve, have you been looking for jobs?” His father speaks up. The never-ending topic.
“No, dad. I have a job,” Steve doesn’t look up from his plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with his fork.
“Well, a real job, I mean.”
At Steve’s silence, his mom adds, “we just think, especially now that you have a girlfriend to support, you should look for something… better.”
You look up when she says it, eyes wide and hand tensing on Steve’s leg. You don’t understand how they care so much about what he does and so little about how he feels. He likes his job, you know that, and he’s tried to tell them multiple times over the past couple of days.
And still.
It’s impossible for you to sit by and listen to them talk to him the way they do, like he isn’t good enough. Like the only defining thing is his job, which isn’t even a bad one. What defines him is who he is as a person and he’s the best one in your life.
“Why does it matter so much?” You ask.
His parents look at you, surprised to be questioned, it seems. Steve looks at you, too, with something more like astonishment, appreciation.
“I’m sorry,” you continue, “it’s just, you haven’t seen your son in how long? And all you guys keep bringing up is his job, which he’s told you he actually enjoys. Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”
Steve’s world is tinting pink, heart-shaped lenses over his eyes hearing you defend him. Nobody’s ever tried to go against his parents for him, and here you are. Fuck, he loves you.
They’re quiet, and you’re not finished. “Steve is the greatest person I’ve ever met, and that’s no thanks to you. I’ve known him for a long time and not once have I seen you guys around. How can you judge him so much when you don’t even take the time to know him anymore?”
The room is dead quiet. Nothing but the clinking of forks against plates for the rest of the meal. You feel lighter, after saying what you did. Though you’re also terrified that you’ve overstepped, that Steve will be upset with you for causing a scene.
As if sensing your worry, he holds your hand just a bit tighter.
It’s not until after dinner, hidden away in his room, that you talk about what happened. Not the kiss; your outburst.
He shuts his door and you’re already apologizing, “listen, Steve. I'm so sorry if I made things worse, but I couldn’t just let them shit on your job anymore. I couldn’t. You’re my best friend, you know that, and-”
His arms are around you in a blink.
“Thank you,” he breathes into your hair. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. Thank you, honey.”
“Oh,” you blink away your surprise and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Anytime.”
“You’re really special.”
Your smile spreads, spilling before you can do anything about it. You hide your face in his neck and stay that way until he lets go, a flush in his cheeks and stars in his eyes.
Steve wanted to tell you he loves you right then, but the words seem stuck in his throat. They won’t come up. He wants to be with you for real, and though it happened in a rush, it also didn’t. His brain just needed to catch up to his heart.
He doesn’t say it, but he will. As soon as he can.
“Wanna go watch a movie?” You ask.
“Yeah, okay.”
Movie night. You and him. That’s real.
-
Steve’s parents seem to have gone out somewhere, the car missing from the driveway. They haven’t left, though. You and Steve checked for the suitcases (they’re sitting, already packed, in their room).
Playing the movie, yet another Christmas pick that Steve couldn’t say no to, you share a blanket. There’s plenty of room on the couch, you’re the only people there, and yet, Steve still tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you to lean against his side.
Maybe he’s just doing it in case his parents come home while you’re downstairs. That’s gotta be it.
“Is it bad that I’m sort of relieved they aren’t here right now?” Steve says to you, quiet.
“Not at all. You deserve better than what they give you, Steve.”
“You think so?”
“Are you kidding? I know so.”
He lets his head lean atop of yours, and that’s that.
You want to bring up the kiss, but then again, why would you? It’s not real. It’s not real no matter how much you wish it was, no matter how much it feels that way. You knew going into this that you might end up kissing Steve, you just didn’t know it’d fuck you up so much.
Part of you hopes that mistletoe will appear above your heads yet again, just to be able to feel the way you did when he kissed you. Heart fluttering, stomach twisting, warm all over.
Though Steve’s head feels relaxed, resting on yours, it’s overflowing with thoughts. You, his parents, the way you defended him, how it felt to kiss you, how much he wants to do it again. You. The entire length of the movie, he’s trying to think of a way to tell you he loves you. The best he comes up with is to wing it.
When the screen fades, and the film ends, you remember the gift you’d left in Steve’s room, buried at the bottom of your overnight bag (you decided to sleep over, something you’ve done too many times to count, and head to your place in the morning with Steve). You sit up, only to face him.
“I have something for you. C’mon,” you tug on his hand, leading him all the way to his own bedroom.
“What?”
“Just,” you make him sit down on his bed when you’re in the room, digging through your bag and finding the present you’d wrapped last night. “Here.”
He takes it from your hand slowly, like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t open it right away, staring at the red and green patterned wrapping paper and the gold stick-on bow sitting in the middle of it.
“Open it,” you urge, shuffling nervously on your feet.
He shoots you a shy smile before tearing at the paper, revealing a scrapbook of sorts. Flipping through the pages, he finds memories upon memories. Pictures of you and him, of him and Robin, all three of you. Some with the kids or with Eddie. Most of them he doesn’t even remember taking.
And it’s more than just pictures. There’s movie tickets and receipts from random fast food dinners, confetti from a surprise party for Dustin and a piece of a plate Steve broke once.
It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him. It reminds him that he does have a family, no blood relation needed.
“Honey,” he says it quietly, his eyes watering ever so slightly. “This is- I don’t even know what to say.”
“I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”
“No. I love it. It’s perfect, seriously,” he runs his finger over a picture of the two of you, your faces squished together and your smiles absolutely ridiculous. “Best gift ever.”
He means it.
“I had some help with the pictures. Everyone in that book loves you, Steve.”
Everyone in that book. That means you love him, too. He knows that you could mean it platonically, but something about the way you look at him when you say it makes him think that he has to tell you. He has to try.
He’s suddenly very glad he bought you a locket for Christmas, and that he left it unwrapped because of his lack of skills in that department.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Steve-”
“Please,” he trades spots with you, sitting you on the edge of his bed, “close your eyes for a minute, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you shut them tight, placing a hand over them as well, “double closed.”
He rushes to grab the locket from the bottom of one of his drawers, then grabs the tiniest bit of paper and manages to write as small as he can on it, placing the message in the necklace and closing it with a small click.
Steve reaches for the hand that isn’t covering your eyes, opening it up and placing the delicate piece of jewelry in it. “Okay, open.”
You do, glancing down to what rests in your palm. It’s gorgeous, dainty, and the corners of your mouth lift at the sight of it.
“It’s beautiful, Steve. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s a locket,” he says. His head is bent, shy and visibly nervous. “Open it, too.”
Your heartbeat picks up, like you know, subconsciously, that something big is hiding inside despite the small size of the necklace itself. You wedge your fingernail into the gap, pushing the locket open. The note inside makes your stomach drop.
In his messy, rushed writing, the words ‘I love you.’
You look at him, mouth agape and hopes way up. “Steve?”
“I mean it.”
“How-”
“I mean I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a really, really long time. I guess it took you being my fake girlfriend for me to realize it.”
“You’re not pranking me, are you?”
You’ve spent so long loving him, and convincing yourself that he could never love you the same, that it feels unreal. Hazy, like a dream.
He sits beside you, cupping your face in his hands softly to make you look at him, “I’m not pranking you. I love you.”
“Holy shit. I love you, too. For so long. I never thought I had a chance with you.”
“I think you’re the only person who’s had a real chance with me since I met you, honey.”
Right there, discarded wrapping paper on the floor, the glow of Christmas lights shining through the window, you doubt you’ll ever take that locket off once it’s on.
You can’t stop yourself from rushing forward and kissing him. A small press of your mouth against his at first, then, it’s more. It’s slow and every single thing you’ve ever wanted. His lips move with yours like they’re the only ones that know you.
This time, when you kiss, there’s no question. It’s real and it’s thawing every single worry you ever had about this. This is real, you get to think now.
Steve pulls away only when your breathing gets heavier, only when he absolutely has to. His thumb trails over your cheek, a lover’s touch. He takes the necklace from your hand, puts it on for you and kisses you again when he’s done.
“Do you think this was a Christmas miracle?” You say, teasing.
“I think this was just me being too stupid to notice how I feel about you. I know now, though.”
“Because you needed a fake girlfriend.”
“Because I needed a fake girlfriend,” he confirms. “But, I’d like a real one now.”
“I think I can manage that,” you nod, a lovesick smile on your face.
For once, Steve’s glad his parents came home. He never would have asked you to fake date him if they hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have realized his very real feelings for you, either. So, maybe it is a Christmas miracle, after all.
hey you! if you enjoyed please consider leaving a reblog, it would mean a lot and helps a ton more than you’d think! help support creators like me <3
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finelinevogue · 10 months
Text
the best thing
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summary - you hate harry after that one night together, but when you need someone the most he will always be there
a/n : mentions of sexual assault, quite intense scenes, crying, angst, drunkeness
word count : +3.8k
pairing : ceo!harry x reader
You don’t know how you got here.
One minute you were eating crisps at home and watching reruns of Friends, then the next thing you know you’re at an exclusive event in the centre of London with your best friend; Leia.
Apparently, your best friend is now dating some actor who is in with all the A-list celebrities and so she can get into all these cool events now.
This party was hosted by none other than Harry Styles, billionaire and CEO of StylesTech. He happened to be the one man on Earth who you absolutely despised. Well, maybe he wasn’t the only one.
Harry became a celebrity when he got put on the front cover of GQ’s magazine for sexiest man alive four times. That’s right… four.
Harry was friends with James, your best friends new boyfriend, and had said she could also invite a plus one. The more the merrier was what Leia had said over the phone.
Now you were here.
Some rooftop bar in the heights of London. The lighting was very low, the music was very loud and the room was completely packed.
There was a dance floor where people were grinding more than dancing. There was a bar, which apparently was a free-bar. There was panoramic views of the city and tiny people below, making you feel like a Goddess up here in the clouds.
“We’re going to get drinks, you coming?” Leia asked you, James tugging on her hand to move them through the crowd.
“Yeah.” You nodded and grabbed onto her open hand.
You weaved through the crowds, apologising for people you bumped into.
You felt slightly too single here. Everyone seemed to be clinging onto someone and yet you were clinging on to a couple - third-wheeling to be precise.
When you reached the bar Leia and James ordered together, leaving you wait for another waiter to come to help you.
You waited a few more moments, before someone whistled behind you like they were calling over a dog.
“Oi, Henry. Serve this lady now.”
You turned around with a disgusted look on your face, only to be met with Harry Styles in front of you. He smirked at you when he noticed your facial expression.
You scoffed and turned back to Henry. “Don’t worry yourself about me. You can finish whatever job you were doing, hun.” You smiled at the young boy, who looked terrified of his boss behind you.
“No, he won’t.” Harry came and stood beside you. “She’ll have a vodka cranberry with ice.”
“She has a fucking name. Prick.” You mumbled the last word under your breath. “Sorry, Henry. I’ll actually have a Long Island Ice Tea, please. Thank you.”
Henry was off, probably to get away from Harry and make your drink.
“Sure your tolerance can handle a Long Island?” Harry laughed beside you.
“Don’t act like you know me, Harry.” You sneered his name.
“Oh, but I do know you. Don’t I? Know you very, very, well.”
You huffed, trying to not let his words effect you.
You knew exactly what he was talking about. Specifically, the night he was talking about. It had been one night back when you were working in a rival tech company. You had been issued to attend a conference weekend, there had been limited numbers of rooms and Harry - the gentleman at the time - had offered you a space in his room.
That night you had too many vodka cranberries and ended up sleeping with Harry that night - although not much literal sleeping actually happened.
The point of hatred for Harry occurred when he left in the morning after you’d confessed that you could see yourself liking him. You’d offered yourself to him for a date together and all he said was; ‘I don’t do seconds.’
Hence, the birth of the hatred for GQs sexiest man alive x4.
“That was one night, years ago. Wasn’t anything to remember.” You sneered.
You lied. It was actually one of the best nights of your life and no one has been as good since.
“Except it was. You didn’t scream that much because you were hating it.” Harry sipped on his glass of whiskey.
“You’re a fucking pig.” You grabbed your drink that Henry had given to you now. “Stay away from me, Harry.”
“Then why did you come to my party?”
“I’m here because of Leia, not you.”
You scoffed and walked off, leaving Harry leaning against the bar in his gorgeous suit to stare at you as you walked away.
The little black dress and heels would do wonders for the power walk away from him. He could see what he has been missing.
You saw Leia and James standing at a table and went over to join them.
“Hey.” You said on approach.
“Hey babes.” Leia smiled as James wrapped his arm around Leia’s waist.
“Cosmo?” You asked, pointing to Leia’s drink.
“You know it. And what the fuck did you get?”
“Long Island.”
“Do you even like them?” Leia laughed.
“No.”
“Then why—”
To prove a point. “Dunno.” You shrugged, taking a sip and feeling sick already from how disgusting the drink was.
“Oh hey man.” James unwrapped his arm around Leia to shake hands with someone. Unfortunately for you, it happened to be the one man you were trying to stay away from.
“Hey. How are you?” Harry asked as they bro hugged.
“Good, good yeah. This is my girlfriend, Leia.” James introduced her.
Leia smiled politely, shaking his hand, and you suddenly wished you’d told her that the story behind the ‘One-Night-Stand’ guy had been this guy. “Hello. Great party.”
“Thanks.”
“And this is Y/N, Leia’s best friend.” James introduced you, not realising that you didn’t need an introduction.
Harry stuck his hand out for you. If you didn’t shake it someone would know something is wrong, so you could your hand in Harry’s and tried to ignore the soft skin against yours. Instead, you tightly squeezed as if you were trying to strangle his hand.
“Lovely to meet you, Y/N.”
You just tightly smiled, not feeling like returning the sentiment.
“Have we met before? You look very… familiar.” Harry had the cheek to say to you. He was an evil man.
“No. You don’t really have a face that I’d remember.” You pulled your hand away from him in disgust.
“Oh really? I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
“It’s not.” You smiled, returning to your drink and trying not to gag with how awful it tasted.
“Uh, so, what are you drinking Harry?” Leia asked, clearly sensing some tension between you.
“Vodka cranberry.”
“Ah no way! That’s our Y/Ns favourite drink.” Leia smiled genuinely.
“How coincidental.” Harry faked a shocked face.
“Yeah. Truly.” You rolled your eyes.
“You two must be soulmates or something.”
“That would require two people going on an actual date.” You stabbed into the conversation.
“I guess..” Leia looked awkward now.
“Your capable of going on a date, aren’t you Harry?” You innocently questioned, turning to face him.
Harry’s nostrils flared and it looked like he was biting back from saying something brass. Instead of speaking, he shot back a good half of his drink.
“Lovely speaking to you, Leia. James, we’ll catch up in a bit.” Harry nodded his head to them both. You didn’t miss how he didn’t acknowledge you as he left the table in a hurry.
You breathed a sigh of relief after he’d gone.
“What the fuck was that about?” Leia asked you immediately.
“What?” You asked dumbly.
“You and Harry. The sexual tension was insane!”
James nodded his head in agreement.
“Don’t be silly.”
“Y/N… C’mon. I’ve seen a penis and a vagina have less sexual tension than you and Harry. Get a fucking room next time.” Leia fanned herself.
“I give up.” You shook your head and downed the rest of your disgusting drink.
“Where are you going?” James asked.
“To find a fourth wheel for me.”
•••••
Twelves minutes later and you’d managed to find someone to spend the rest of your night with.
His name was Jordan and he was very good company. Attractive company too.
You two were cornered away in the back of the room in a circular booth. A tray of shots lay empty in front of you and another tray contained full ones.
You were playing a drinking game to get to know each other and now you were absolutely spinning. Your head had taken a hit after the fifth shot and now you were nine deep and couldn’t stop yourself.
“M-my turn.” You laughed as you hiccuped.
“Okay.”
Jordan sat close to you, his arm wrapped around the back of the booth where you were sat. His eyes were deep brown and his hair was light blonde. He looked the complete opposite of Harry, which maybe was subconsciously a choice.
“Favourite sex position?” You giggled immaturely.
“Hmm. Doggy. I actually hate seeing a girls face when we’re fucking.” He replied and you had to take a shot because he answered honestly.
That should’ve been your first red flag about Jordan.
You just laughed instead.
“My turn. Have you ever masturbated?”
“Alllll the time. No guy does it for me anymore.” You laughed sadly.
Jordan took his shot and then moved in closer towards you. You tilted your head so he could speak into your ear.
“I could fix that problem for you.”
Your eyes bugged at his forwardness.
“No thanks.” You shook your head and laughed to try and keep it civil.
“Oh c’mon. You’ve been flirting with me all night and you know it.” His hand dropped onto your shoulders and pulled himself closer. His other hand dropped onto your bare thigh and started rubbing up and down on your soft skin.
“No I haven’t!” You laughed the situation off.
“You have. And I bet you’re all excited ‘cause of it.”
He started moving his hand further up your leg. Due to your toxic alcohol intake your reaction times were a little slower, but when his hand had made it underneath your dress-skirt you gasped and tried to tug his hand away.
“No. Please stop.” You said softly, whining as he tried to push his hand higher.
His face came closer again and he started to kiss your cheek. You tried to move your face away but his other hand was there to trap you and keep you close.
You started to worry because of how dark it was and how hidden away you were. Everyone was busy dancing and drinking away and none the wiser about the situation you were in.
“Give in, you tease.” His hot breath felt disgusting against your skin.
“I said no. Please.”
You struggled to push him off. Both your hands were focusing on his hand on your leg that you couldn’t do much to get his face away from yours.
“You’ve been teasing me all night and now we get to play.” He laughed.
Tears formed in your eyes as you kept pushing and pushing and pushing. You kept saying no over and over again, but Jordan was just not listening.
He felt disgusting on you and it made you feel just as disgusting.
Jordan just kept laughing whilst you were crying.
An employee caught your eye - in fact, it was Henry. You thought he might’ve come over to you and help, since he could clearly see you crying and struggling with Jordan on you, but instead he turned and walked away.
You sobbed then, thinking that might’ve been your only chance to get help and he just left.
You wondered whether it was because Harry was a dick to him.
You closed your eyes and tried to think of happy thoughts as Jordan started attacking your neck.
You tried to think of Harry. It wasn’t hard.
He was constantly on your mind.
“You taste so good. Stop denying me all of you.” Jordan bit your neck too harshly to be pleasurable.
“Jordan, no!” You shoved with all your strength and managed to completely get him off. You were pissed now. Your mascara may have run, your eyes red and blotchy, your breath shaky, but that was all he was getting from you.
“No?” Jordan scoffed. “NO?”
Jordan grabbed your cheeks and pulled you towards him.
“Ow.” You mumbled through his harsh grip.
“Listen here you little bi—”
“The fuck is going on here?”
Jordan dropped your face and straightened his jacket, whilst you turned your head to find who you already knew was there; Harry.
His voice had sent a wave of calmness through your body the second he started speaking. Now he was standing there with a deathly look on his face you couldn’t help but feel relief.
And you noticed Henry standing behind him, looking just as angry.
“Hi boss. Just having fun.” Jordan responded.
Harry looked between Jordan and you. Jordan looked dazed and content, whilst you looked broken and scared.
“Are you okay?” Harry looked intensely at you.
“She’s fi—”
“I wasn’t fucking speaking to you, was I?” Harry rhetorically asked. “Y/N, come here, love.”
Harry held out his hand, palm facing up.
You made no hesitation as you weakly moved away from Jordan and towards Harry.
Harry helped you stand up and kept a tight hold on your hand. It grounded you, his touch.
“Can I touch you? Just on your face?” Harry asked you softly and you nodded.
Harry cautiously held your chin and moved your head to the side, noticing the red mark and blood on your neck. He hadn’t taken note of your legs yet, but he would come to find red marks on them too.
Your teary eyes were wiped by Harry’s careful thumb. You looked down at his shoes the entire time, too afraid to look at him. You knew you’d crumble if you did.
“Are you okay?” He asked you again.
“No.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I-I was really scared, Harry.” Your voice broke and Harry immediately cupped the back of your head and brought you into his chest. You collapsed there and Harry’s hands held you up strong.
“You’re okay now. I’m here, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Harry said, whilst nodding his head discreetly to the two security men.
They came over within seconds and yanked Jordan out of the booth. His protests were no match for the security guys. As he was being escorted out, Harry stopped him to say “See you in court.”
After Harry had thanked Henry with a nod and smile, he walked the small distance over to the same booth and sat down on the edge of it, pulling you to sit on his lap.
Your body was still wracking with sobs, but only because the adrenaline of the situation had been too much for you.
Now you knew you were safe, it was too much.
Harry made you feel safe.
He rocked you as he held you. It was too loud to have a quiet, serious, conversation, but his actions spoke loud anyways. I’m here. You’re safe. It’s okay now.
You heard Harry shout to someone for a glass of cold water, which was brought back to you within a minute.
"Here, sunshine, drink this." Harry spoke closely to you so you could hear.
He held the glass up to your lips and tipped it back slowly for you. Your hands were too shaky to hold onto it yourself, but you managed to drink carefully with the help of Harry.
He even knew when you'd had enough.
Harry's hand cupped the side of your head and brought you to rest back onto his chest. His head stayed rested on top of yours and you both just sat like that for ten minutes or so. It was hard to know exactly how long.
You just sat and thought about everything that had happened tonight and everything that could have happened. Mixed with that, your brain was constantly thinking about Harry and how much, no matter how hard you try otherwise, you like him.
Your heart feels constantly pulled towards him. He's like a beacon in the middle of a storm, safely guiding you towards home.
Just as those thoughts were circling your mind, Harry made his move.
He told you he was going to stand up, so you let yourself slide off his legs onto your own shaky ones. You thought he might be leaving you to go back and mingle with the other guests, so you stood shy to the side.
Harry leaned over to Henry and whispered something in his ear to which Henry nodded.
Before you could make plans as to what you were going to do now, Harry held out his hand to you again - giving you a choice to take it or not. Of course, you took it.
He squeezed your hand in reassurance and then lead you off and out of the room.
You two made no conversation as you wandered out of the noisy room and into a quiet staircase. Harry started walking up the stairs, so you followed him.
It was another two minutes before you made it to the top of the stairs and through a door that led to a rooftop. It was only very small. It overlooked the city skyline, with hundreds of twinkling lights casting shadows over the small space.
There were twinkling fairy lights too, up here. They were knotted around various creeping wall plants like ivy. In the corner of the square space there was a big L-shaped sofa with plenty of cushions and throws.
Harry turned back to smile at you, leading you to the sofa.
He sat down and let go of your hand, allowing you to choose where to sit.
You took one last glance at the skyline and up to the moon, before deciding.
"Wanna sit next to you." You said in a small voice.
"Okay." Harry smiled perfectly.
He shuffled back into the corner of the L-shaped sofa, sitting up and letting his legs stretch out on the chair in front of him. He patted his lap next with a smile. You shuffled over to him and sat on his lap, perpendicular to the way he was sitting so your legs stretched out along the other length of the chair.
"Comfortable?" He asked.
"Mhm."
Harry wasn't too sure though, and next thing you knew he was gathering a couple of blankets to throw over your legs and shoulders.
"Better. Thank you." You nodded.
"You're welcome."
"It's beautiful up here."
"I guess it is."
"Is it all yours?" You questioned.
"What? Everything up here?"
You nodded. Harry then took your hands in his and started to play with the few rings you had on.
"No. Not everything is mine."
You looked up at him and into his eyes, noticing he was looking straight back at you.
Your breath caught in your throat as you thought about the implications to his words. You couldn't help but let a blush and smile take over your face. If he was implying what you thought he was then maybe you were in with a chance of Harry liking you back.
"What do you want to have? You're a billionaire. You could have anything you want." You asked, curiously.
"No even a billionaire can buy everything." He smiled sadly.
"Well, what do you wish you could buy even though you can't?"
Harry chuckled under his breath, "Redemption. A second chance. Love."
You tilted your head back against the sofa, your head feeling less and less drunk by the minute. You sighed, looking at the beautiful moon and wondering how lonely she must be up there.
Loneliness is something you've suffered with for far too long.
You wanted to find that connection with that someone who makes you feel wanted, feel loved and feel chosen. You craved it.
You chuckled.
"What?" Harry asked, softly caressing over the back of your hand.
"It's just funny, is all."
"What is?"
"Us, wanting the same thing. Wonder if we want it from the same people." You tilted your head to the side to face Harry, watching him lick his lips as he looked at yours not-so-subtly.
"You already know we do." Harry said quietly, leaning in towards you.
Your breath hitched as he got closer, your heart beating faster than your brain was processing the motions. You knew you wanted to kiss Harry as badly as he wanted to kiss you, but not like this. Not yet, at least.
"Harry, wait..." You said, watching him stop immediately.
"Fuck. Shitting, fuck. Sorry, Y/N. That was completely inappropriate of me. I mean.. After... Tonight and us... and...."
Harry shot back to his original position and ran a stressed hand over his face as he tried to work through his thoughts.
You smiled as you watched him panic, before taking his stressed hands in yours and kissing the back of it softly - right over that small triage of freckles you knew sat pretty there.
"Hey. It's okay." You reassured him. "I'm not stopping you because of what happened this evening. I'm stopping you because I feel I deserve to know why I wasn't enough the first time around."
This was you standing up for yourself.
"Weren't enou-.. Y/N, love. God, I was such a dick. I never, ever, left you because I thought you weren't enough. I left because I didn't think I was. I was a nobody back then. I looked at you and saw someone who could literally be the epitome of sunshine, and then I looked at me and all I saw was a dark cloud that would cover you. I never thought someone as bright, as happy and as golden as you should ever have to be with someone like me. Hell, it's still a thought that niggles away at the back of my mind. But, I've learnt that I can't let those thoughts win. I owe it you myself, and definitely to you, to at least try."
"Well that was as good as apologies get." You sniffled, trying to hold back the happy tears.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, for our wasted years. I... I just wasn't ready for us back then and I know I was a prick about it."
"You were. A right big prick."
Harry wiggled his eyebrows and you had to fake punch him for it.
"I'm sorry." He said honestly. "And I'm sorry for tonight too."
"That wasn't your fault, okay? I promise." You squeezed his hand.
"Okay. I'm still suing that motherfucker though."
"You're a billionaire already!"
"So? I was going to donate the money to a sexual assault charity or something." He shrugged his shoulders like what he just said was no big deal - like he hadn't just shown his truest heart.
"You're a good person, Harry, who deserves good things." You moved closer to him.
"I am?"
"Mhm."
"Do these 'good things' include you?"
"I don't know. Do you think I'm a good thing?" You teased him.
Harry leaned in closer. "No. I think you're the best."
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voxlvrr · 5 months
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˚₊‧꒰ა Adam with a work!alcoholic reader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
`` ~ ୨ A/n : thank you all for 100 followers ! <333 also this is genuinely just pure fluff, may be a bit ooc ! ୧ ♡ ·
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ꕥ ; Adam HATES your bad working habit, you’ll stay cooped up in your room for literal hours and days! you never take your eyes off the papers on your desk. the only time you actually come out just get coffee. Adam will use every excuse he can in the book so you’ll actually stop overworking yourself and come to bed with him or just eat something. but usually he’ll barge in with food he bought and set it on your desk, and use the time to spend time with you for awhile. but once he genuinely gets fed up with it he’ll just go behind your desk and snatch you up from your chair while obviously ignoring your protests. he’ll honestly straight up tell you that you need to stop your bad habits and that it’s actually starting to “piss him off” but later he’ll mumble that he actually cares about you just wants you stop. and once you promise that you’ll stop he’ll end up dragging you to bed with him cause he knows how many nights and mornings you’ve stayed up. but before you do that he’ll let you take care of yourself, like taking a shower, getting a change your clothes and brushing your hair. once that’s all taken care of he’ll literally never let you leave the bed all night, he genuinely couldn’t sleep at night when you weren’t with him. Often also leaving him restless like you. hell! even lute noticed how he isn’t like his usual self cause Adam genuinely missed your presence and he’s so glad that you’re finally back in his arms <3
ꕥ ; also Adam will try to make sera not give you so much work, which she’ll probably agree too. and once she does, he’ll probably start trying to convince you to take a break for once in awhile, or he’ll just take you out for awhile knowing that you’re stressed about all the work you’ve been given for the last couple of weeks. he’ll get you whatever you want! food?, already bought!,you want new outfits? He’ll buy it for you! literally whatever you want, just don’t stress about work <3
A little one shot under the cut here :)
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ꕥ ; it was maybe 3:00 am or 4:00am..? damn it you lost track of time already. you’ve been overworking yourself even more lately since sera decided to move down the stupid extermination day. and now while that’s happening you have to approve some other rules for heaven and other shit that you genuinely don’t care about, as you looked at the window from your pitch black office only some moonlight shining in you could see some early risers up and about in the city. but mostly it’s peaceful and quiet which youre glad about. as you turn your head away from the window.
you then see Adam right in front of you, which scares the LIVING. shit out of you which you almost screamed but you were very. tired to scream you noticed that Adams mask was sitting right on your desk which was piled in reports and other things you forgot about hours ago, Adam then spoke “can’t you just hold off the work for the night? It’s literally fucking almost 4:00am, cmon! just come to bed alreadyyy!” You sighed profusely before you spoke in a low tired voice “listen - Adam. you know how i have to finish these reports and documents so I can bring them all to sera tomorrow, I can’t come to bed with you yet.” you responded before looking down at the papers before you and when you tried to reach the pen across the desk - Adam then snatched it and threw it somewhere across the room and before you could protest - Adam then gently took your wrist bringing you around from the table and towards his chest and then wrapped his soft wings around your figure. which made you even more tired than before. you then started drifting off until you fully fell asleep in his arms..
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`` ~ ୨ this is was probably the longest fanfic I’ve made ! ^^ hope you all enjoyed
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fluentmoviequoter · 27 days
Text
Lonely in Misery
Requested Here!
Part 2 Here: Lonelier in Misery
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!paramedic!reader
Summary: Bailey notices that you're lonely and miserable while Nolan notices the same about Tim. They decide to set you up on a blind date, but it only ends with more sadness.
Warnings: mention of motorcycle accident, pure fluff (the title and summary are misleading, my bad)
Word Count: 2.0k+ words
A/N: @newobsessionweekly here's some soft Tim if you're interested🥰
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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“Let’s go!” your chief calls. “Motorcycle accident on Wilshire.”
You nod as you gather your equipment. Being a paramedic is stressful, but you work with an amazing team. It’s too bad you don’t have the same kind of community in your personal life. Working with your best friends is great until you can’t hang out or talk to anyone because they’re on different shifts.
“Single rider?” you ask as you climb into the ambulance.
“Dispatch didn’t say. Only called for one ambulance, so I assume,” your chief replies.
“Hey, maybe it’ll be a single guy and you can nurse him back to health and finally get a date,” your teammate in the driver’s seat jokes.
“Ignore him,” Bailey says, rolling her eyes.
“Ignore who?” you tease.
As the BLS rescue ambulance pulls out, you sit back in your seat.
“Are you okay?” Bailey asks softly.
“Fine,” you reply. “Just… I don’t know.”
“I get it. We, uh, we haven’t been able to hang out in a while. What have you been up to?”
“Nothing. Work, eat, workout, sleep, repeat.”
“Yeah, you’ve been kind of mopey.” She reaches her hand toward you and smiles when you lay your hand in hers. “This job is hard enough without being lonely. Why don’t you go on a date or just go hang out somewhere, meet somebody?”
You shake your head and brush off her concern with a half-true promise, “I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to when our schedules give us time to be friends again. If I can get out away from Nolan, of course.”
Bailey smiles and rolls her eyes but squeezes your hand reassuringly. You know she isn’t convinced that you’re fine. Your job is more important, though, so you decide to focus on the motorcycle rider who needs your help rather than the empty home, the empty life you’ll go home to after your shift ends.
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“Hey!” Tim yells harshly. “Socialize on your own time, boot!”
His new rookie ducks his head and walks quickly after abandoning his conversation. Tim has been grumpier than usual lately, and he’s taking it out on everyone in the station. When he yelled at Sergeant Grey, who only shook his head and told Tim to take a breather, Nolan knew what was happening.
“He’s lonely, right?” Nolan asks Angela.
“Incredibly,” she answers without hesitation. “It’s been worse, though, so his sports buddies must have gotten busy, married, something.”
Nolan nods. He has an idea, but he knows better than to suggest Tim go on a date where he could overhear or be told. As he walks toward his shop, Nolan makes a mental note to ask Bailey if she knows anyone who would be willing to go on a date with Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.
“Do I look like I care about your engagement party?” Tim asks across the garage.
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“Hey,” Nolan says as he walks into the house.
“Hi,” Bailey replies.
Nolan hugs Bailey and sighs against her.
“I need your help with something,” Bailey says.
“Anything,” Nolan replies as he steps back. “But I need a favor, too.”
“My best friend is lonely and needs a date.”
Nolan’s brows raise as he adds, “My coworker is lonely and needs a date.”
“Did we just plan a blind date in under thirty seconds? Are we really that good?”
“Depends. Is your friend interested in someone like Tim Bradford?”
Bailey considers the pairing for a moment but smiles as she pictures you balancing Tim and him providing an edge that you haven’t experienced in years.
“Oh, yeah,” Bailey decides. “She’ll be interested.”
“Great! Now I just have to convince him to actually go on the date,” Nolan muses.
“Good luck.” Bailey laughs before she realizes, “I have to get her to let me set her up too.”
“Well, if she’s anything like Tim, appeal to her misery.”
“Yeah, because it’s better than absolutely nothing and complete unhappiness is the perfect way to pitch a date,” Bailey scoffs. “I’ll get my friend there, and you convince Tim your way.”
“I hope this works,” they say together.
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“What’d you do last night?” Bailey asks as you exit the locker room.
You step back in surprise at being ambushed the moment you arrive but recover quickly. “I made dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed. Why?”
“Because you’ve got a date tonight, so we’re switching it up.”
“Bailey,” you begin.
“No, no, hear me out before you decline. Please? I’m doing this as your best friend, I promise.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “Pitch this guy. But, Bailey Nune, if you say it’s Nolan’s brother Pete I will find a new best friend.”
“Oh, no. I love you, I would never do that. Besides, the whole point of a blind date is that I don’t tell you the guy’s name. But…” She raises her finger to emphasize as she adds, “Nolan and I both know him well and he’s a great guy.”
“You’re gonna have to give me more. I don’t want to go on a date just to say that I didn’t spend another night alone, Bailey.”
“Completely. I know you, though, okay, and this guy he’s- he can do and be everything you want. The romance, the connection, the best friend that is also your life partner, what you are looking for in a guy, this is it. I promise. And, if I’m wrong, I’ll bail you out of the date and I will clean your equipment for the rest of the month.”
You purse your lips as you think about her offer. She does know exactly what you want in a man, and you trust Bailey’s judgement. “Fine. I’ll go on the date.”
“Yes!” Bailey cheers as she hugs you. “I’m so glad. You’ll feel so much better after you’re not miserable and lonely anymore.”
“You should’ve been a motivational speaker,” you deadpan. “Now don’t mention it again until we get off. This can’t be the topic of conversation for the rest of the day; I’ll never live it down.”
“I’ll stay quiet and think of the perfect outfit for you,” Bailey says as she follows you into the heart of the station.
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“Officer Bradford,” Nolan calls as he walks across the bullpen.
“Yeah?” Tim asks.
“I’ve got a proposition for you. Or a question, idea, whatever you want to call it.”
“Then spit it out, Nolan.”
“Right, yes, sir. Bailey has a single friend, and we want to set you up on a blind date.”
Tim’s face remains impassive as he shakes his head. “Pass. Ask Aaron.”
“No, Tim, I’m asking you.”
“And I’m not interested,” Tim argues.
“Look, you’re lonely and miserable, so you’re making all of us miserable. I know you – sort of – and I know this woman. She could be really good for you.”
“If you’re wrong? Because I think you are.”
“Then leave the date! You’re not losing anything more than a few hours.”
Tim takes a deep breath before he asks, “Why do you think she’d be good for me?”
“She can be the balance that you need, and she understands some of what we deal with daily.”
“Don’t tell me she’s a lawyer.”
“Oh, no, I know better than that. So… is that a yes?”
“It’s a hesitant yes,” Tim answers. “When?”
“Tonight.”
Tim nods once before he walks away to reprimand a rookie. Nolan watches him yell and hopes that he and Bailey are right. Because if they’re wrong and the date goes poorly, Tim will be worse in the morning.
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You sit in the front of the restaurant and await your date. Bailey said he’d arrive after you. She never explained how you were supposed to find each other, though. As you watch people come and go, you grow discouraged. You shift your attention from the door to your hands. Several minutes pass before the door opens again, and you look up but don’t expect anything.
“Tim?” you ask.
You’ve seen Tim Bradford several times in passing. At wrecks, crime scenes, and various Los Angeles law enforcement meetings. He’s always been kind to you, and you remember that you may have mentioned finding him attractive to Bailey before.
“I’ll assume you’re my blind date, then,” Tim replies. He smiles as he adds, “I’m not as disappointed as I expected to be.”
“Wow,” you say through laughter. “If I’d known you were such a flirt, I would’ve asked Bailey to set us up sooner.”
Tim shakes his head, and you join his side as he gives his name to the hostess. As you walk to the table, a sudden awkwardness descends. There’s no good way to begin a conversation on a blind date, you realize. Tim takes his hand against the menu but looks similarly lost about what to say.
“I guess being lonely and desperate worked in my favor,” you joke.
“Oh, I can guarantee that I was lonelier and more desperate,” Tim replies. “Nolan used that to convince me to come tonight; said I was making everyone else miserable with my misery.”
The mood lightens with your playful jokes, and you smile at Tim.
“Since you’ve had to pull an arson suspect off me before, should we skip the small talk?” you ask Tim over your menu. “Or do this the normal way?”
“There’s nothing normal about this,” Tim comments.
Your phone buzzes in your bag, but the Are you still miserable? text from Bailey goes unread.
“Okay, I hate this,” you murmur as you set the menu aside. “Can I just sit beside you?”
Tim’s smile grows as he stands and offers his hand. Once you’re seated beside him, where you don’t have to lean across the table to talk, you don’t even remember the miserable feeling that led Bailey to set this date up.
Tim leans over to whisper, “I’m glad I agreed to the date,” and you move closer to him as you answer, “Me too.”
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As you walk out of the restaurant with your hand in Tim’s and a joyful smile on your face, you don’t want the night to end.
“Same time next week?” you ask as Tim slows.
“What about the same time another day this week?” he suggests. “I had a great time, and I want to go out again. If that’s what you want, of course.”
You pull your phone out and hand it to Tim, ignoring Bailey’s text. He puts his number in and texts himself, so he has your number, too. You grow giddy, something you thought was a thing of your past.
“I think this is the best date I’ve ever been on,” you tell Tim as you begin walking again. “Thank you.”
“Nolan and Bailey are gonna take credit if we tell them the blind date worked,” Tim points out.
“Yeah,” you agree, drawing out the word. “But I don’t think I can hide how happy tonight made me. Not from Bailey, at least.”
Tim nods like he understands as you stop. You turn to face him, and he raises the hand that isn’t in yours to hold your cheek. There isn’t a question or doubt in your mind as you kiss Tim. What was supposed to be a date to cheer you up and get you back out of your mundane, lonely life is already becoming so much more. As Tim releases your hand to hold you and pull you closer, your entire world brightens. Neither you nor Tim are lonely, let alone miserable, with the prospect of a new relationship with one another. You pull back when you can’t stop smiling against Tim’s lips.
“Thanks,” you whisper.
“For what?”
“All of it.”
Tim smiles and brushes his thumb under your bottom lip. “If I don’t see you before Friday, I’m looking forward to our date. And I’ll pick you up at the fire station.”
“Are you sure about that?” you question. “Bailey will tell John.”
“They’ll have to learn sooner rather than later that there’s no room for them in our relationship.”
Your smile grows at our relationship, but you lick your lips to keep your excitement from showing. “They’re both born meddlers.”
“Let’s stop talking about them,” Tim murmurs as he leans in again.
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Bonus:
When you arrive home, you see the text from Bailey and answer: More miserable than you can imagine. I’m going to sleep to escape it. Sure, you left off the part about being sad because the date ended, but she’ll find out soon enough.
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stxrslut · 27 days
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oh hear me out .. in the john b x pup x jj dynamic its so easy for pup to enter subspace with johnbee rather than jj.. cs with jb he keeps her contained and grounded, whereas jj lets her run free and encourages it !! so often times when shes tired out from jj she goes to johnbee, all sleepy and nonverbal and needy and of course daddy bee knows best 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
🐈‍⬛
I also feel like sometimes pup doesn’t actually realise that she needs to slip. so she’ll be outside running around and having all her fun with jj, and he just starts to notice her going a bit more tired and clingy and he can tell she’s about to go.
so he’ll just catch her and pick her up, “okay sweetie, I think it’s time to go see daddy now. can see you gettin’ tired out.” and he takes you inside.
john b can see by the way that you’re completely limp while jj’s carrying you that you’re going into subspace. he stands up to take you off the blondes hands and give you a kiss on the cheek while he takes you to the couch, “hi puppy, you feel a bit tired right now? yeah, that’s fine, you just let daddy take care of you.”
they both get you all comfy in your pyjamas and lots of blankets. jj puts a movie on then moves over to sit next to johnb and keep a hand on your back.
maybe at some point you start to subtly grind on johnbees lap and they both take a hold of your hips and start guiding you until you reach a climax. then lots of kisses and coaxing to come out of it before they can take you to bed and let you sleep.
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lainiespicewrites · 9 months
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Coach Syverson
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Okay, Y'all I'm trying something new and posting one of my Henry Cavill Character fics. I haven't posted a fanfic in so long it's gonna be a short story probably only a two-parter maybe 3. Let me know what you think! I loved writing this. I think it's so cute!!!!
Warnings: None for Part 1 :) Definitely will be smut in part 2!
High school football coach Sy and school guidance counselor OFC
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I was locked in a trance,  typing in progress notes from an early morning meeting I’d just finished with a student.  The sounds of the office, which was just coming to life outside my door, fuelled me. I almost never came in this early. But, one of my seniors was having a crisis and this was the only time we could work into her busy schedule. It’s gonna break my heart when that girl graduates this year. I get so attached to the students. I can’t help working as a school counselor. It's hard not to.  
“You’re in early,” The voice coming from the doorway made me jump. He chuckled softly.  “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”  After a brief heart attack, I finally looked up. I smiled when my eyes met his. 
“No, it’s okay, I just didn’t see you! Good morning Coach, What can I do for you?” His soft blue eyes held my gaze, before shooting me a gentle smile. Coach Syverson and I had become good friends since he started working at the school a little over a year ago. Like many good high school football coaches, they made a history teaching spot for him. Unlike others, he’s actually a great teacher! 
I met Logan Syverson for the first time in a staff meeting. Our principal introduced him at the beginning of the meeting going on and on about all the improvements he would bring to our team and our community. He certainly looked like a football player. The guy was huge! Tall, large muscles, and a full beard. His eyes were a deep blue. He had a winning smile and a southern accent. The English department was drooling. I hated him immediately. 
I figured he was just going to be a self absorbed prick like the last coach. who only cared about the popular students, peaked in high school, and got fired because he got a little too close to one of the cheerleaders. We were not at all sorry to see him go. Well, those of us with half a brain weren’t anyway. Some of the community and staff were more worried about the football program. But I digress. 
I was even more annoyed with him when I caught him falling asleep during the same meeting 30 minutes later when we were discussing the budget for new textbooks. I’m not exactly sure what came over me but I kicked him under the table. He was immediately alert. I expected him to glare at me. Or maybe even smirk. But the look on his face could only be described as apologetic. He quickly caught up to me when we were leaving the meeting. “Some first impression I made, huh?” When I didn’t immediately respond he added. “I swear I’m not some asshole that doesn’t care about education, that’s not like me, just didn’t sleep much last night. I had to take my dog to the emergency vet, she broke her leg in the woods late in the evening and didn’t get back until late and…”
“Is she okay?” I asked quickly. He looked completely dumbfounded.
“Uhm what?” He asked, clearly confused. I smiled sympathetically. I did exactly what I told my students not to do and judged him too quickly and I felt like an ass about it. 
“You’re dog, is she okay?” He smiled softly and nodded. 
“Yeah, Yeah she is. They got her all wrapped up and in a cast, poor pup, but she’ll be alright.” There was a brief pause and then. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“The students know me as Miss Plummer, but it’s Alayna. And um.. Sorry I kicked you. I don’t  know why I did that.” I smiled sheepishly. 
“Alayna,” He repeated. And then chuckled and squeezed my shoulder “No need to apologize, I’m glad you did. That would’ve been embarrassing. Falling asleep in my first staff meeting doesn’t really look good. Thanks for saving my ass back there!”
 We were fast friends from that point on!
Sy pushed off the door frame he’d been leaning against and walked into my office. “Brought ya coffee, I was gonna sneak in and leave it on your desk but I guess it’s you surprising me this morning,” He said, setting the cup from our local coffee shop down on my desk. 
“That’s sweet of you!” I took a sip and almost choked. I expected just plain black coffee. He wasn’t the kind of guy to order fancy coffee. But this was actually my coffee order. “How did you know my coffee order?” He had a big grin on his face now. 
“I remembered it from that morning when we ran into each other in line a few weeks ago. Thought I’d be nice and bring my work wife some coffee since I was there.” He shrugged. He really was such a sweetheart. He looked tough and scary. I know he did. When he and a few of the other teachers in the history hall gathered between classes they looked intimidating. At least from a student's perspective.I knew them all well though. I’ve talked with students failing his class because they wouldn’t ask questions. When I asked why, they said they were nervous. But he was certainly no one to be afraid of. Yes, he could yell, but he saved that for the football field. The man was a damn teddy bear. 
“Thank you!” I smiled. I quickly looked out into the guidance office to make sure there were no students around. “But I know you didn’t walk all the way down here just to bring me coffee for the hell of it. You’re buttering me up for something. What do you need, Logan?” He laughed and shook his head plopping down on the edge of my desk.
“You know me too well, sugar. Two things!” He said. I rolled my eyes. “Hey now young lady, don’t get an attitude with me I’m not asking you to give up a kidney!” I hid my smirk behind a sip of coffee and nodded at him to continue.  “First, Can you look up Ty’s grades for me just at some point by the end of the day. He came into my office this morning and was all nervous about his algebra grade, swearing up and down it’s because he failed one quiz. But, I’m pretty sure,” I cut him off. 
“He’s not turning in his homework because he just started dating Caitlyn and they’ve been staying up texting all night.” He raised an eyebrow. 
“Uh, Yeah, How’d you know?”
“Caitlyn stopped in to see me this morning and we had a chat about it, amongst other things. I’ll double check but I’m sure you’re right. I’ll email it to you so you can have a chat with him. I was going to call him in  today but he listens better to you. When you talked about being a veteran and your time in Iraq at the Labor Day assembly, I think that really struck something with him. He looks up to you.” his eyes locked with mine and he smiled softly placing his hand over mine on the desk just for a second. 
“Thank you for saying that,” He said before moving his hand and leaning on the desk again. I just smiled. 
“What’s the other thing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because you could’ve just sent me that in an email.” He smirked. And his nose crinkled a little. Oh no. 
“So our first away game is tomorrow night,”
“I know,” 
“And you’re a big football fan, and you love those boys don’t you?” He was deflecting
“What do you want, Sy?” I asked again. He let out a long breath. 
“Carol was supposed to be a student chaperone for the student fans buuuttt well, you heard her kid is really sick? I need you to come chaperone. Actually. I kinda already said you would.” He quickly stood up from my desk and backed up to the other side, like he was afraid I’d hit him. 
I just leaned back in my chair and groaned, 
“ugh Sy! What if I had plans?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. He chuckled 
“You don’t!” I scoffed 
“You don’t know that?” I retorted. He smirked 
“Yeah, what big plans do you have for Friday night?” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. I sighed. 
“Okay I don’t! But I could’ve!” I argued. “Why, didn’t you ask one of the other guys? Like Nick or I don’t know Mike?” I asked. 
“Nick’s an assistant coach, he’ll already be there. And we both know as much as Mike loves teaching…he does not want to spend his Friday night with the kids and at a football game making sure there’s no funny business. And you love the kids.” He was pleading now. Practically giving me puppy dog eyes. “And…Maybe I want you there,” He winked playfully. I looked down and jiggled the mouse on my computer to hide my blush. 
Jessica, who works the front desk of the guidance office swears he flirts with me. But I know he’s not. We’re friends. Good friends. We tease each other to make work a little more fun at best. But that's all it is. A man like Logan Syverson would never look twice at a girl like me. He’s fit and strong and tall and handsome. I’m pretty but I’m short and round and a little too quirky for my own good. Girls like me only get men like him in the movies. And I’m not stupid enough to believe otherwise.  Moment’s like these though. I do wonder a little. But I don’t let my thoughts wander too far. 
“Oh yeah?” I joke, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I mean maybe you’re our good luck charm. You’ve been at all our home games this year and we haven’t lost a game.” He said with a cheeky smile. 
“We’ve only had two Sy.” I say matter of fact. He just shakes his head. 
“That doesn’t mean you’re not good luck, but okay,” He held his hands up in defeat. “If you don’t want to do it I’ll figure something out. I messed up and didn’t ask you first. I’ll tell the boys their favorite guidance counselor doesn’t want to come support them. It’ll break their little hearts sugar but I’m sure they’ll find,” He pauses and lets out an exaggerated sigh “Some way to pull through and play a good game of football.” He frowned, shaking his head. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows looking straight at him. 
“Are you done?” I deadpanned. He snickered softly and nodded. “Fine, I’ll go,” He smiled and walked over squeezing my shoulder. 
“You’re the best! It’s supposed to be chilly! Wear a sweater! And Free coffee,on me all night! I promise,” I rolled my eyes. 
“Yeah, yeah okay,” I chuckled.
“Seriously, I owe you sugar! I’m happy you’ll be there, I better get goin, class starts soon and I probably shouldn’t be late being that I’m the teacher,” He chuckled. 
“Get out of my office Logan!” I laughed. He smiled. 
“You’re the best!” He said one more time before finally walking out of my office. I shook my head and tapped at the keys on my keyboard to wake up my computer. I felt eyes on me and looked up to find Jessica standing in my doorway. 
“Don’t start!” I warned her. 
“Please, sugar. I really want you there!” she mocked. “He knows your coffee order, Alayna. How long are you going to ignore what’s right in front of you?” she asked exasperated. 
“It’s not like that Jess, He was just being sweet because he needed the help.” I said.
“Like you wouldn’t have done it anyway. You were trying to play coy but we both know you would have done it anyway.” She laughed. I blushed. And threw an eraser at her. 
“Get back to work!” She laughed. 
“Whatever you say… Sugar!” I snorted and we both chuckled for a minute. “I mean it Alayna, He’ll be kinda busy during the game and yes you’ll be keeping an eye on the students but take the opportunity to flirt back, he likes you, I’m not wrong!” She turned and walked back to her desk before I had a chance to say anything. And before I could spend any more time thinking about it my email notifications went off pulling me back into my work. 
The rest of my work day went by in a blur. I had meeting after meeting with students. My seniors were in panic mode, my juniors have early onset senioritis, and the freshman and sophomores came into vent about the daily woes of high school drama. Oh to be 16 again. 
With a full schedule of meetings I barely had time to eat lunch even in my office. When my phone lit up with a group text from two of my girlfriends asking about our weekly Thursday night dinner. I was quick to respond. 
(I’ll be there!) I sent the text, before packing up my desk for the evening. It had been a late night for me so it was just past 5. I didn’t bother going home first to change into something more casual. They were used to the office style by now. I felt my shoulders relax a little as I slipped into the booth next to skyler.
“Hey!” she said cheerfully, slowly pushing the glass of white wine they’d ordered for me closer. 
“You know me so well!” I smiled at her. 
“Long day?” Hayley asked from across the table, she picked up a tortilla chip and filled it with queso. I shrugged. 
“Not long in the sense that it was rough, just busy,” Skyler nodded and took a sip for her wine glass. 
“I feel that. I tried to get some school work done while the kids were down for a nap.” She runs an in-home daycare. She adores kids. But she’s also going back to school for a degree, Pediatric nursing. She’s a saint. I don’t know how she does it. 
“I commend you babe. The school is asking me to take classes, they want someone to take on the position as school psychologist. They’ve been trying to nudge me toward it the past couple of weeks. It’d be a raise but, that on top of the current workload? I don’t wanna drown myself ya know?”
“I totally get it, it’s not easy! But you should think about it. You’ve talked about it before! At least consider it.” Skyler said. 
“She’s got a point dude,” Hayley added. “Look at you guys moving up in the world while I’m stuck with an art block. If I can’t think of anything, my online shop isn’t gonna take off and I’ll be stuck at the factory forever!” She groaned and downed a quarter of her strawberry lemonade that was no doubt spiked. I looked sideways, meeting Skyler's eye. She was giving me the same look. 
“You’re just getting started Hayley.” Skyler said. 
“I know but if..”
“Ah, no buts!” I cut her off “We have to allow ourselves room for mistakes and error when we’re trying something new. You will get there. Give yourself the love you give your art! I don’t wanna hear anymore of that self deprecating bullshit from you! The people love their ghost fish!” I demanded, trying to hide a chuckle. She could be so stubborn! She was starting an online etsy shop for commissions and spreading the word through social media. She had all these fun ideas. She was a great artist. But of course it’s not an easy way to make money. And right now, things were slow. She would get there though! I know she would!
“Have I ever told you how annoying it is when you use your psychoanalysis shit on us?” she deadpanned. 
“Everyday but I still do it anyway, and that’s why you love me!”  She just laughed.
“Yeah okay buddy. Enough work talk, I lifted a bunch of heavy shit all day and I don’t wanna think about it. I just wanna eat my chips and queso and get drunk with my friends!” She said and scooped another chip through the queso. I laughed and held up my glass
“Cheers to that! Although we all know damn well it’s a Thursday night and we all have to get up early and we drove separately so drunk is relative but yes!” Skyler laughed and clinked her glass with mine. 
“Let her have her moment. Cheers to drunk Thursday dinner!” she said. 
“Fuck yeah!” Hayley added and added her glass in with ours. We all took a drink and it was quiet for only a second. 
“So,” Skyler spoke immediately. “It’s been a week, what's new?”
“Nothing for me, just still considering the offer to go back to school. My job would pay for it. Love life is still dry and I’ve bought like 3 new spicy romance books on my kindle this week!” I said laughing. 
“Fun!” Skyler smiled. “Hayley?” She asked and directed her attention across the table. 
“I went to Target and spent an obscene amount of money on fall stuff. We have a fall party coming up at work that I volunteered to do face painting for, but that should be fun! Oh there’s this new movie that came out I want you guys to come see with me I was hoping maybe tomorrow night?” she said. I started to agree. But then remembered my conversation with Sy earlier. 
“Oh tomorrow night? I can’t. I’m actually busy!” They both looked at me with raised eyebrows. 
“Since when are you busy on a friday night?” Hayley asked. Here we go. This is gonna open a whole can of worms. If Jess was good at getting my hopes up about Sy, these two were going to have me down right delusional. 
“There’s a football game. I like to support the team.” I said. Skyler snickered and a smirk spread across Hayley’s face. 
“You like to support the coach you mean?” Skyler asked. 
“That’s not true! I’ve always been a football fan!” I defended myself. Hayley chuckled
“Sure but since when do you go to away games? Isn’t it like 2 hours away?” She raised an eyebrow. I sighed. 
“Coach stopped by the office this morning, one of the other teachers that was supposed to chaperone the roadies tomorrow canceled and since he and I are friends he volunteered me to do it. He buttered me up with free coffee this morning and practically begged me to go tomorrow and… I just can’t say no to him. Plus he said he really wants me to be there.”  I swirled my wine glass and stared down at it. I knew the looks they were giving me.  I heard skyler squeal.
“Shut up! He asked you to come because he wants to spend time with you! Watch, I bet next week he’ll ask you out!”  She bounced in her seat. 
“He does not! He’s going to be busy with the team! He’s not going to have time to talk to me or anything.” I said taking a big gulp of wine. 
“Why else would he say he wants you there though. And clearly you want him to hang out with you. Or you want to hang out with him. Or you wouldn’t have given up your precious Friday night in!” Hayley smirked. 
“Okay, so what if I do. He’s not into me like that. He’s just friendly. He’s southern, it's just how he is!” I said, trying to hold onto whatever sanity I had left. 
“Really?” Skyler said. “Does he bring anyone else coffee? Ask if he can eat lunch in anyone else’s office?” Hayley but it
“Didn’t he get you a christmas gift last year?” she asked. 
“He was my secret santa!” I stated. They both sighed. 
“ I don’t know why you can’t see it but he likes you!” Skyler said. I started to  object but Hayley cut me off. 
“You don’t have to believe us. Just pay attention to how he acts around you tomorrow and the next couple of days. He's trying to make a move. And I know you have your little no coworkers rule,”
“Because if…”
“Ah, I don’t wanna hear it! He’s clearly trying to get your attention. And you work in a public high school it's not like everyone else isn’t hooking up.” She stated. 
“She’s got a point, remember all the teachers when we were in school? And he’s not just trying to hook up. He’s playing the long game,” Skyler said. “All we’re saying is IF we’re right,”
“And we are,” Hayley added. Skyler gave her side eye but laughed. 
“If he asks you out you should give him a chance. We’ve never met him but it’s clear he’s so into you. And he seems like a great guy. Don’t push him away because something COULD go wrong.” she said. At that point the waiter came up and we placed our order. I also ordered another glass of wine. But a wine buzz wasn’t enough to convince me they were right. Sy couldn’t like me. I wasn’t his type. But it didn’t matter. I will go tomorrow and have a good time watching the game and cheering on the boys and watching Sy in his element. And when it’s all said and done I’ll ride home with the student section and maybe catch the chance to say goodbye to my friend before we leave. And on Monday everything will be as it always has been. Sy and I are friends. 
I repeat that to myself as I walk the hall toward the gym after school on Friday. I turned down the hall toward the locker rooms and found his office door open. Sy was leaning back in his desk chair watching the tape from a few weeks ago. He noticed me before I spoke. He paused the video and smiled. 
“Hey you! To what do I owe the honor? You never venture down this way?”
“Just coming to double check the plan for tonight! We’re meeting back here at 5:15 and the bus leaves at 5:45?” I asked him. He nodded, running a hand over his beard. 
“Yeah, but I was thinking, you got plans for dinner?” He asked and raised an eyebrow. 
“Uh I was just gonna run home for dinner, why do you ask?” I leaned against the doorway and crossed my arms over my chest. I watched curiously as he chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. 
“I was gonna grab a bite to eat in town before the game. I won’t have time to go all the way home. Do you wanna come with me?” He finally made eye contact with me again and gave me a soft smile. 
“Oh um,” I hesitated for a second. 
“I’ll buy,” He smirked. I rolled my eyes. 
“You don’t have to do that, Sy,” I said softly. He stood up grabbing his keys off the desk. 
“I know, I want to.” He smiled and brushed his shoulder against mine as he walked out the door. “Come on, I’ll drive.” I raised an eyebrow 
“Driving me to dinner and you’re paying? Sy if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were flirting with me.” the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk and he stopped walking. He turned toward me and bit his lip trying to hold back a grin. 
“Alayna,” He chuckled nervously, “I find it hard to believe after all this time…” He was cut off by a loud whistle down the hallway. 
“Well ain’t that a cute couple!” a voice said in a horrible mock southern accent “Get it coach!” One of Sy’s boys called from just outside the weight room. Another one of the football players popped his head out the door to see what was going on and started making kissy sounds with his lips. Sy dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head but his shoulders shook when he chuckled, giving him away. He loved those boys he couldn’t be mad if he wanted to be. 
“Tyler you’re already on thin ice don’t make me bench you tonight! You too Matt. Don’t think I forgot about the little stunt you pulled in the parking lot last week!” He gave them a stern look
“Sorry coach!” they said in unison 
“It was funny though,” Matt mumbled. Sy shook his head
“Sure, You boys get out of here and get something to eat, I don’t need you passing out on me on the field tonight.” He held Matt’s gaze. 
“It was one time!” He stressed. 
“And it’s only gonna be one if I can help it. Go eat!” He barked. The boys immediately straightened up and nodded. 
“Yes coach!” Logan just chuckled and we kept walking. 
“They adore you,” I said. He smiled 
“Nah, they just know I’m not kidding’” I laughed. 
“Oh come on Sy, you aren’t that mean, or you wouldn’t care so much,” We walked out the back door to the teacher parking lot and headed to his truck. “Hey… what were you saying earlier,” He raised an eyebrow. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about sugar,” He smirked. 
“Sure you don’t cowboy,” I rolled my eyes and hopped up into the truck after he unlocked it.  He slid in next to me and started the engine. 
“Where do you wanna eat?” He looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged. 
“Doesn’t matter to me, you’re buying,” I said flatly. 
“Sugar,” He threw his arm over the back of the seat, his fingertips brushing my shoulder, as he backed out of the parking spot. He left it there as he pulled out on the road. “Don’t be shy with me, I know you love food darlin.  I’ll drive all around town and we’ll starve until you tell me what you want.” I looked over at him just in time to make eye contact before his eyes shifted back toward the road. He shook his head and tried to hide his smirk. 
“You are so dramatic,” I teased, trying to play it cool but I could feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. 
“Oh, I’m dramatic? Weren’t you the one tearing up in her office because of a book you were readin?” He snickered. I reached over and playfully smacked him in the chest. 
“Shut up!” I laughed. He held his hand to his chest feigning hurt. 
“Ow!” He pouted. 
“That did not hurt! I barely hit you!” he side eyed me still pouting but the corners of his mouth started to break into a smile
“Over here committing spousal abuse.” He shook his head. I laughed so hard I snorted. 
“We’re not married Sy!” 
“You’re my work wife, it's the same damn thing” He chuckled. “Seriously, where do you wanna eat, I’m starving.” 
“My god Logan,” I laughed. “Um fine, I haven’t tried that new sushi and ramen place yet!” I said. He almost slammed on the break. 
“You haven’t?! That place is right up your alley, all trendy and shit. It’s real good too!” 
“You think I’m trendy?” I raised an eyebrow. He looked over for a moment and caught my eye giving me a gentle smile. 
“I think you deserve to be taken out to nice places.” And here I was blushing again. 
“Sy,” I started but my phone buzzed in my lap distracting me, I wasn’t really sure what to say anyway. It was a group chat with the girls asking me what time we leave tonight. They were going to have a field day with this. And instead of just replying I decided to start a fire. I tapped my screen to open my camera and held it up to take a selfie “Smile, cowboy.” He chuckled. 
“What are you doin over there, sugar?” He smirked but glanced over at the camera quickly so I could snap a quick photo. 
“Lighting a match.” I smirked. He bit his lip and chuckled softly. 
“You’re something else,” He spoke as we pulled into the restaurant. I quickly sent the picture to the group chat and slid my phone into my purse.
Sy was right. This place was incredible. And very trendy. 
“God I can’t get over how good this place is!” I said for like the 4th time. Logan smiled. 
“I told ya, Darlin,” The waitress came and brought out our bill and I reached for my purse. “Hey, No, I told you, I’m paying.” He said pulling out his wallet and handing his card to the waitress. 
“Thank you Sy, I appreciate it,” He grinned.
“Anytime, you deserve it,” I blushed, “ you’re really saving my ass tonight.” I forced a smile, so that’s what this is about. I told the girls this was all just because he needed something. 
“It’s no big deal Logan.” I said. I pulled my phone out and checked my messages. There were like 10 from the group chat now. 
“OMG YOU'RE WITH HIM?!”
“You didn’t tell us you were getting dinner with him.”
“UNLESS THEIR NOT GETTING DINNER ;)”
“What else would they be….oh”
“Alayna you better not be fucking the football coach right now.”
“Leave her alone Hayley she can fuck him if she wants to BUT IF YOU DO I WANT DETAILS”
“ALAYNAAAAA”
“GIRLLLL ANSWER USSSSS”
“Seriously dude you can’t just send us a picture of you with your hunky football coach man crush and just disappear.”
“OMG THEY’RE TOTALLY FUCKING”
I held back a smile and shook my head. 
“It is a big deal,” He said and grabbed my hand across the table. “I’m glad you’re gonna be there tonight.” I smiled but pulled my hand back. 
“Sure, because you needed another chaperone.” I joked. His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head catching my eye. 
“Yeah, but I wanted it to be you, I like hangin out with you. And you’re really fun to watch in the stands. I didn’t know you could be so…aggressive.” He smirked. 
“I’m just really passionate about football!” I argued. “And how do you know you like hanging out with me? We've barely seen each other outside of work.” I questioned. 
“Well we should change that,” he said.
“Won’t your girlfriend get jealous?” I asked. I knew a lot about him but he never mentioned any relationship. I’d be stupid to think he wasn’t seeing someone. He laughed. God I loved that sound. 
“Don’t have one sugar,” He said with a mischievous grin on his face. 
“How?” It was my turn to be confused. 
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” He retorted quickly. 
“I … because…” I stuttered, unable to come up with an answer.
“Haven’t found the right guy yet huh?” He pauses, “guess that’s where I’m at, she just ain’t found me yet.” He smiled. Right then the waitress came back with his card. “Thanks honey,” He said, giving her his signature smile. He signed the receipt and stood from the table. “We oughta get going. Don’t wanna be late for the game!” 
Sy drove us back to the school and parked his truck next to my car. “Oh no!” I sighed. 
“What's wrong?” He asked. 
“I was going to grab a sweatshirt when I went home and,” I opened my car, turning on the light to look in  the back seat. “I don’t have an extra in my car.” I pouted. 
“Is that all?” He chuckled. He reached into the back seat of his truck and pulled out a black hoodie. “Here. I always have an extra in the truck you can wear mine. Don’t want you to catch a cold.” I took it from him tentatively. 
“Sy, this is your coach sweatshirt.” I said. 
“One of ‘em yeah.” He smiled. 
“I…okay,” I just shook my head and pulled the hoodie on. He bit his lip. 
“Looks good on ya,” He smirked. 
“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes. Before we could continue to tease each other the buses pulled up. And I could see some of the students' cars pulling into the student lot “We’d better head over there!” I said quickly. Logan nodded. 
“Yeah, we better get going.”
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bella-goths-wife · 3 months
Note
So I’m not sure if you’ve ever thought about this and it’s ok if it’s too awkward but…since Velvette is the only female Vee- does that mean she’s the one who takes care of Pet during her “time of the month”? Maybe the only one who can actually understand her.
How do the Vs handle pets time of the month
Warnings: weird dynamics, abuse, power imbalance, menstruation talk, sexualisation of pet reader
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You knew how to handle periods pretty well
Sure they were different because of your new form, but it was still the same principles as before
It used to be a real problem back when you were first brought to hell and living on the streets
You had to do anything to be able to get some product to help with the bleeding, literally anything
So you’ve learned to suck up pain pretty well and you’ve definitely learnt to tough out your time of the month
But you also learnt a thing or two about how to manipulate men on the streets, and your period became a handy tool in this effort
If you told Vox that you were on your period, he would act like an embarrassed dad who just wanted to get rid of the conversation in any way possible
He found that your period gave him a reminder that you weren’t a child and he found it to be a constant reminder of your sexuality that he tries to desperately block off
Your menstruation is just another reminder that your an adult demon and not a childlike pet, and Vox almost sexualises you when it comes to your period
His first thought that comes to mind when you bring up your period is that you could possibly be having sex, instead of acknowledging that this is just a biological process your body goes through
So he allows you to get away with much more then usual and will sometimes allow you days off to spend in your room
Valentino has an opposite reaction, your menstruation actually humanises you to Valentino in a way that disgusts him
Your menstrual cycle reminds Valentino that your not just one of his toys and that your a undeadly living demon
Your real and not just made to fulfil his needs
So he’d start up his usual routine of inappropriate touches despite never being sexually attracted to you, and you’d mention your period and that’s all his interest lost in you
He’ll wrench his hand back like he’s just touched hot fire before looking at you with disgust, only seeing a person instead of his personal plaything
He’ll make some kind of fetish joke that will undoubtedly make you uncomfortable before sending you to your room for the day off under the guise that he’s such a good boss and he doesn’t want you to work while in pain
But the real reason is that he cannot stand being around you when your humanised in his eyes, when he can smell the blood on you and know that even his toy has a biological component
Velvette does not let your menstrual manipulation fly though
As she’s also a female, she also experiences menstruation
And when she’s on her period she will expect for you to dote on her like she were a sick person in private while keeping her tough girl act up in public
She’d have you absolutely pamper her and even hold her for a while when she feels emotional
So when your on your period you sometimes expect the same treatment, until you are reminded once again that you are not an equal to velvette
She’ll work you the same amount and will work you even harder if she hears any complaints
If you do complain you’ll be reminded of your time in the streets and velvette will remind you that you managed to overcome that so working for her while menstruating should be no big deal
The other two would try and get her to calm down on you but she’ll only double down and claim that your manipulation tactics don’t work on her
But she will insist on you sleeping in her bed while your menstruating
She becomes overly protective of you when your on your period, she claims that men will sense it on you and take advantage of you
It almost made you laugh how she practically facilitated Valentino’s sexual assault but became overly concerned with your well-being from other demons
So it’s almost like she becomes more clingy to you once your on your period, especially if you two sync cycles
If you two sync she’ll be working you to the bone and expecting you to pamper her while also being overprotective and not letting any men around you
And she’d also be emotional so the nights that your sleeping in her bed she’ll demand you hold her for hours on end despite usually hating affection
She craves the warmth and acceptance of a female companionship and relationship, but does not want to put the work into building a friendship
And your right there, her little obsession
You can fulfil her social needs and her cravings of a connection while being sworn to secrecy and programmed to answer her every command
And your menstruation reminds her that someone could try and take you, in a similar way to Vox she associates your menstrual cycle with sex and sexualises you with more fear then discomfort like Vox
She fears that you’ll enter a sexual or romantic relationship and she’ll lose you to someone else, despite her never craving a sexual or romantic connection with you
She wants to be your friend but that would mean acknowledging you as an equal which is something that she refuses to do
So you’ll remain her pet, her loyal mutt
Her little obsession
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Tag list :)
@perkypeony @the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @buttercupfangirl @corvid007 @fandomaddict505 @hazbinhotelxreader @sparkleyfishies @repostingmyfavs @aroomofmyown24 @ivebeenthearchersstuff
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cinnbar-bun · 4 months
Text
One Piece Characters w/ an S/O who celebrates Ramadan
Characters: Luffy, Sanji, Crocodile, Robin
Rating: SFW
Notes: Muslim!GN!Reader. So yeah, obvy talking about religious beliefs and practices- if those make you uncomfortable please feel free to skip <3
A/n: this is for me and the three other Muslim OP fans here just vibing 😂 cultural notes at the bottom in case you didn't know/just curious about some of the terms here.
Luffy 
Absolutely does not get it, I think he has a heart attack hearing the words “no food or water” and does not listen to anything else after. 
“WHY CANT WE EAAAAT??? WHAT????” 
Blows his mind you would do this… he’s trying his best, poor guy <3
I GOTTA STRESS HE IS TRYING- HE WANTS TO DO THIS WITH YOU 
But you know, he’s Luffy, so that means after an hour or two he gives up and just raids the kitchen. 
Task failed but you know he’ll always stay up late for iftar and wake up early for suhur. 
Sanji 
He at first thought you were trying to- god forbid- starve yourself or diet and nearly screamed. 
When you explain the reasoning, he’s touched and wants to support you! So that means he’s absolutely doing everything he can to make sure you’re hydrated and getting all the nutrients you can get whenever you can. 
He makes you a completely separate dish from the others while you’re working or resting (so your food is fresh and ready when you break your fast!). 
Self-indulgent thought he’s so so so on top of things when it comes to your meals in general, he will never put wine or meat in your meals, and he makes to sure clean the area and use separate pans for when he cooks your meals. Absolutely refuses to give you anything that goes against your beliefs (I need him in my life). 
Please, he’s buying you dates and getting up with you to make sure you’re drinking plenty of water and eating right. Sleep schedule be damned, he’s not messing around with your health!!!!
Crocodile 
Now, he’s one of the few who actually knows what Ramadan is- he’s made Alabasta his “home” for a while and has participated in many celebrations or events to keep up appearances.
He kinda just humors you at first like “yeah, yeah, go be spiritual or whatever” and chuckles at you with that sexy voice of his. 
But he sees how dedicated you are, maybe sees you reading or praying and okay… his heart kinda melts. He’s never really believed in such things, not finding it useful for him, but seeing you just kinda makes him curious. 
Easily can fast alongside you, he just doesn’t make a big deal of it and insists that it’s simply due to him ‘not feeling hungry’ or ‘finding it boring to eat alone’ (sure, sure you big tsun). 
Makes sure your chefs are giving you only the best and freshest foods possible- he’s especially harsh about the food when it comes to Ramadan. 
I’m trying so hard not to inject my MENA!Croc addled brain into this piece so so hard I AM TRYING OKAY GUYS 
But can you imagine him going to the mosque with you or listening to you discuss or read the Quran and he’s just playing it cool but his eyes are so drawn to you and he wonders if you’re an angel and that he really, really does not deserve someone like you because he’s done so many bad things and wheeeeeeze-
Robin 
She’s an elegant and refined woman, one who will 100% want to be involved in your traditions. 
She finds your beliefs fascinating and takes it upon herself to join you in your Ramadan. 
It took her a bit of getting used to, but after a few days, it quickly grew on her. 
Robin likes having tea with you during suhur, alongside a few fresh fruits Sanji had gotten. Light meals are best for her and she prefers to enjoy your company and take it easy before the dawn. 
She likes to keep track of the days and times of when you two begin and break your fasts- she’ll make sure to keep note of the Shawwal moon so you two (and the rest of the crew) can celebrate the Eid together!
Since it’s a time of reflection, Robin decides to sit quietly and talk about her feelings and experiences with you. She did have some reservations and guilt that she was too “demonic” to celebrate this with you, but through your encouragement, she felt better and continued it alongside you. 
Oh, she loves getting the henna done, too. She makes sure to have lots of flowers on her arms and is in love with the patterns.
Cultural Notes: 
Ramadan is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar, which is based on the lunar cycle- hence why you’ll often see debates on when Ramadan starts/ends or why it begins about a week or two earlier than before, since the lunar calendar is shorter than the solar calendar (or Gregorian, the one we normally use). 
Muslims fast for a month from dawn until sunset (there are restrictions of course) so no water or food from that time. 
Sahur/Suhur/Suhoor: the meal you eat before the dawn comes. 
Iftar: the meal you eat to break your fast at sunset. 
Shawwal is the 10th month of the Islamic calendar, so Ramadan ends when you see the Shawwal moon that starts a new month. 
Eid: the big celebration that marks the end of Ramadan. Usually you go do a special prayer or have a big gathering with your family and enjoy yourselves.
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fatkish · 1 month
Note
First of all that most recent request deff healed smthing in me, second of all, since reader is so clingy in this could I maybe request Aizawa HAS to go back to work at UA so reader comes along with him? I know I technically asked for this before but I want it with the younger version if that’s okay >__< -🐶
Aizawa x Child Reader
I’ll Protect You Pt.2
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After some time of getting the reader used to being in public with him at the insistence of the reader’s therapist, he knew he’d have to go back to work
Takes the reader to a cat cafe so they get used to being in public. The reader plays with the cats and eats their food, and afterwards, Aizawa explains that they’ll be going to work with him
He takes the reader to the store and lets them pick out stationary like pens, pencils, notebooks etc. he definitely gets them cat themed stuff like cat erasers and cat shaped sticky notes or a cat themed pencil case.
The reader clings to him or holds his hand the entire time they’re outside
Aizawa gets them a cute cat back pack that they’ll carry their things in at UA
Will likely homeschool them until they’re ready to go to public school. So he gets them math, science, English and history workbooks to do as their schooling and helps them if they need it
Makes lunches for the both of them and brings them with him
Helps them gather all their stuff the night before school and helps them organize their backpack so it isn’t cluttered
They like to get ready with Aizawa so brushing their teeth together and brushing their hair while he does the same
Makes sure the reader buckles their seat belt before he drives off
Since reader is still too scared to be separated, he lets them cling to his pants as he introduces them to his class
His class think it’s adorable how the child is so attached to Aizawa (all the girls coo at how cute you are)
The reader has a backpack filled with snacks and things to do like puzzle books and coloring pages etc.
Sits in the classroom by Aizawa’s legs and does their own homework while he teaches
Snuggles up to Aizawa when he takes naps in the classroom
When introducing the reader to people, they’ll hide their face in his legs or chest if he’s holding them
They like to eat their lunch with him and talk to him or just eat in comfortable silence
They’ll draw pictures for him and he’ll hang them in the faculty lounge by his desk
The reader will take naps under his desk in the faculty lounge when school is over and Aizawa is grading papers
The reader has gotten used to Present Mic and Nemuri but isn’t anywhere near as close to them as they are to Aizawa
When Aizawa is on patrol, they’ll sleep in his bed if they can’t stay up and wait for him
You slowly get used to his students and become friendly towards some of them
Momo Yaoyorozu will have snacks on her or little candies that she’ll give to you, she’ll also help you with your workbooks since she’s smart
Todoroki lets you sit on his lap and color. If you ask him to, he’ll color with you and actually enjoys it. Always asks to take the colored picture to give to his mom seeing as that’s what you do for Aizawa
Bakugou will silently follow you in the halls during lunch and breaks to make sure no one messes with you or scares you *cough*monama*cough*
If you have to go to the bathroom but are too scared to go alone then Momo, Todoroki or Midoriya will gladly walk you to them and wait outside for you
If you draw a picture for a student then they’ll happily keep them
Nedzu sometimes has tea with you and helps tutor you. He has kept and proudly displays all your drawings you made for him
Aizawa won’t admit it but he’s fallen in love with you and sees you as his child. He’ll protect you til the end of time.
Hope you enjoyed this 🐶 anon. I hope it helps.
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