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justmeinadaze · 5 days

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Nothing's Gonna Change My World (Steddie X You)(90s Universe)

A/N: I hope you like this. It's a new style for me and I have all the ideas for this. Each chapter will be a different universe. <3

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Y/N, The universe they view the first time is a 90s esc style one with Punk Boy in a Band Steve/ Entrepreneur Eddie and Regular 90's girl Y/N. SMUT, light spanking, daddy kink with Eddie (because Im me), and everything in between

ANGST (again because I'm me)

Y/N's kinda blah about the experiment mentioning she's only doing it for the money, mentions of cheating (her ex cheats on her), mentions of alcoholism (briefly touched on)(reader almost breaks her sobriety until Steve appears), mentions of loss of sibling (brief), these three get feisty with each other near the end. Slight cliffhanger ending I guess? There's some things we're going to learn about these three as the chapters go along.

Word Count: 6282

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2075

“Ok, thank you all for coming and being apart of our experiment. I’m just going to go over some rules, guidelines and answer any questions you may have.”

You sigh and fold your arms as you drown out the sound of the doctor in front of you. Could you really call him a doctor? When you signed up to do this, he introduced himself as an inventor and scientist. You genuinely didn’t care either way. All that mattered to you was the ten grand payout you were expected to receive when this stupid thing was over.

“As stated previously, you will be here for about 3 weeks. You will be provided meals and beds free of charge but any additives like cigarettes or candy do cost extra.”

A boy snorted as he laughed under his breath drawing your attention. There was a total of about 15 people in the room but this boy stood out a bit more. It could be because you saw him outside of the building smoking when you were leaving your first initial interview but he seemed a lot less “put together” than the people around you.

Every participant was given a white shirt with white sweatpants to wear and just like everyone else in the city most of the people were fairly clean cut with their hair pulled or slicked back, little to no makeup, and their face clean shaven. This boy had long, wavy hair that hung around to his shoulders and it seemed like he hadn’t brushed it in months. He dawned tattoos on his arms that had some of the people around him flashing him dirty looks like he was unkempt.

You had a tattoo but it was hidden under your shirt by your heart where only you would see it.

When his chocolate-colored eyes briefly locked with yours, you shifted your gaze back to the man who was speaking.

“Every other day, you will be in the vessel for 4 hours and we do administer a calming agent to make sure you’re relaxed through the experiment.”

“Why? I thought you said this wasn’t dangerous.”, a woman interrupts beside you.

“It’s not, Mrs. Lynette, but it can be slightly…jarring… to see yourself in a different environment. We want you as relaxed as possible.”

“Excuse me. Can you explain that a bit more, please? Different environment.”, a boy asks as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

You ran into this boy as well after your interview. He bumped into you as you were opening the door to leave, mumbling an apology before holding it open wider for you to step through. His smell always lingered with you even when you went back home, trying to identify where you knew it from. It was definitely cologne but it felt so familiar.

He seemed like everyone else around him with all of his hair pushed back and his face clean of any stubble but his body language screamed that he was different. Up until this point, will everyone was sitting up straight and listening, he was leaning back with his large palms rubbing his knees as his long legs rested out in front of him.

After asking his question, he glanced towards you before you both looked towards the doctor.

“It’s hard to explain but the best way I can is you will getting glimpses into different universes and realties. They are you just in a different plain so to speak.”

“Will we be hurt or anything?”, someone else asked.

“No, not in this universe anyway. You are only an observer. You won’t be able to interact or change anything.”

“So what’s the point of this experiment exactly?”, you ask more so out of curiosity than anything.

The doctor smiles as he presses his clipboard to his chest.

“To learn. Learn about other worlds, other universes, other ways we can make this universe better.” Your eyebrows raise sarcastically as you huff and gross your legs. “You guys will be the first people to test this system out so we’re hoping for a fun and unique month.”

“Will we be running into each other? What do we do if that happens?”, a man inquired.

“We chose participants at random from different backgrounds with different circumstances and add in that there are so many factors that branch out universes or timelines. The chances of you running into someone in this room are one in a trillion. Less than even…”

You began to tune him out again until the feeling of hand touching your arm got your attention as you and the other participants were led to a large white room with 15 different pods or “vessels” as he called them. The nurse who guided you, held your hand as you stepped in and laid down in the somewhat comfy Styrofoam bed underneath you.

“Alright, Miss Y/L/N, you’re going to feel a slight pinch…” You hissed as the needle pierced your arm but the effects were instant as you laid your head back and felt your body calm. “Good. Now I’m just going to put these goggles over your eyes. This is what will allow you to see the universe. Remember, you’re just watching not interacting.”

“Okay.”, you murmured as you allowed her to place the bulky equipment over your head.

The sound of the pod closing had your fingers twitching as sounds around you became muffled.

“Alright, Miss Y/L/N, dropping down in 3, 2, 1—”

##################

You sat in your car staring at the stupid club sign debating if you should go in or drive away. You had been sober for the past 3 years but your ex-boyfriend (as of today) decided to cheat on you with a friend from his office and all you wanted to do was drown your sorrows in booze.

“Kallie, I’m sorry.”, you whisper as you open your car door and are promptly hit with freezing cold winds. After running to the front door, you show the man your id and he allows you entry.

Smoothing down your hair, you quickly remove your jacket and hand it to the person behind the counter and thank her as you take the ticket you’re handed. The beeper clasped to your hip beeped but you continued to ignore it knowing who it was.

As you take a seat at the bar, you glance around at the people dancing under the ambient red light while the band continues to play a slow but rhythmic song that even has you sway.

“What would you like to drink, Miss?”, the bartender asks and you order the first thing that comes to mind.

Feeling eyes on you, your gaze shifts towards the stage to see the bands guitarist eyeing you before giving you a soft wink and a smile. At the action, you suddenly feel under dressed in your overalls and long sleeve turtleneck that hugs your figure.

The man focused on his music again and you couldn’t but watch how his fingers moved across the strings of his instrument. He reminded you of a lead singer from any 90s punk band with his hair slightly spiked up but haphazardly flowing every which way and his black polo clinging to his upper torso to show off every muscle and tattoo he had. His jeans left little to the imagination but you loved the black and white converse that he showed off when jumping into the air as he played out the final song.

When he laughed and high fived his friend, he scrunched his nose and showed off his teeth making you smile as jealously panged your heart. You wished you were as happy as he seemed.

Your drink was placed in front of you and you stared at the contents as your fingers played with the rim of the bottle.

“Are you hoping to drink it with osmosis or?” You had been focusing so hard on your brain you didn’t even notice the guitarist had come up beside you causing you to jump when he spoke. “Whoa! I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you alright?”

God, he smells amazing.

“I’m ok. I was just…lost in my head.”

“I can understand that. I’m, uh, Steve, Steve Harrington.”

“Nice to meet you.”, you smile as you shake his extended hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N…that’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” Clearing your throat, you try to regain control as you gesture towards the stage. “You guys sounded amazing up there.”

“Thank you, thank you so much. My friend taught me how to play and I’ve been doing it ever sense. I love the rush I get you know?”

“Yeah, I have some idea.”

His amber eyes scan you over as he takes in your soft smile and jittery hands.

“Hey. I have an idea. We’re going to an after party down the street at my friend’s house. His uncle makes a ton of money so he has like this huge mansion we all hang out in after a gig. Would you like to come? He’s a cool dude.”

You weren’t sure what it was about this boy but you felt safe with him. You felt like you had known him for years but you couldn’t figure out how or why. Following your gut, you threw money on the table and started to head towards the front to get your coat.

“You didn’t finish your drink!”

“I don’t need to, Steve Harrington.”

“Would you mind if I ride with you? We all take a van here.”, the man asks as he slings on his jacket and he grins when your fingers graze his patches.

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Y/N! I have been looking everywhere for you! Why the fuck are you at a bar?!”, your ex shouts as he meets you halfway up the parking lot.

“That’s none of your fucking business! Get out of my way!”

“You know you shouldn’t be drinking!”

“And you know you shouldn’t be fucking other women yet here we are.”, you growl as you dig for your keys.

A hand reaches out to touch you but it’s swiftly pulled back when Steve grabs his wrist.

“Don’t fucking touch her.”

“Who the fuck is this?!”

As your ex pushes his hand away and steps towards you, the other man steps between you and shoves him back.

“I’m not going to tell you again. Don’t touch her. It sounds like she’s done with you. Now get the fuck out of here.”

“Or what?”

Again, he steps forward but this time Steve’s fist flies hitting your ex hard in the face.

“I warned you, asshole.”

As the bouncer comes out to see what’s going on, you hastily grab his arm and run to your car.

***

“Wow. Your friend lives here?”, you ask as you pull up to a two-story large house that took up most of the square footage of the area. “How did you two meet?”

“Um, high school?”, he answers before shutting his door and running around to open yours. “His uncle owns the factory up north and makes a ton of cash. He’s a cool dude and people love working with him.”

“Is that what your friend does?”

“Uh no. Eddie is kind of a freelancer, I guess you would say? He designs websites for people trying to utilize the world wide web. With this whole dot.com thing, he makes good money to. Designed our bands website.”

Steve didn’t even knock before entering the home but the party was in full swing as people around you were cozying up on couches and music blared. There was a pool out back where you could see people diving in and splashing around while couples clung to each other in their swimsuits. The man beside you high-fived people as he passed them, banging his head to the bass as it blared.

Guiding you around a corner, there were a bunch of boys in front of a big screen tv, screaming towards it as they button mashed the Nintendo 64 controller.

“Ah come on, man! Fuck you! You can’t use swords when I only have this knife!”

“Pick a better character than, Henderson! Boom!”, a long-haired boy shouted playfully as the character on the screen died. “And that is how you win, baby.”

Grinning wide, he ruffled the boy’s curls before standing and stepping over the back of his sofa.

“Harrington! Hey, man. How was the show?”

“Phenomenal as always.”, Steve beamed as he hugged his friend. “Hey, I want you to meet Y/N. Y/N, this is my friend Eddie Munson.”

As you reached out to shake his hand, he took hold of your own and kissed the back of it as he bowed in front of you.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. Can I offer you anything to drink? A beer maybe?”

“Oh, um, no thank you. I don’t…I don’t drink.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he scanned you over but he chose not to press you on the issue.

“Not a problem. Let’s head upstairs so we can talk somewhere quieter.”

Still clinging to your palm, Eddie guided as the other boy followed and you took this time to visually take in the boy in front of you. His long hair was pulled back so you could see the beautiful features in his face and the stubble that dusted his upper lip. While everyone else seemed more casual, he was dressed in a button up shirt with black slacks as if he had just got off from some corporate job.

Like with the other man, something about this boy told you that you could trust him. You had spent your whole life struggling especially within the last 6 years and besides Kallie never felt safe around anyone or anywhere. Even with your boyfriend, you were always afraid something bad was about to happen and oddly enough when it did you weren’t surprised.

“Welcome to my cozy nook away from the craziness.”, Eddie beams as he falls theatrically into a bean bag on the floor. “Y/N, I know you don’t drink but may I offer you some weed?”

Reaching behind him, he produces a little black box and pulls out some bud that he begins to roll.

***

You cackle as you laugh at a story Eddie had just told that had both boys beaming your way.

“Oh my god, it’s 3am. We’ve been up here for almost 4hrs. Do you need to get back to your guests?”

“My moochers? No, sweetheart, I don’t.”, the man answers in a husky drawl that makes you feel warm. “Honestly, Steve here is the only person who doesn’t use me for my cash or free shit so that’s why as soon as he arrives at my place, we come up here.”

“Hm…must be kind of lonely. Not knowing who you can trust.”, you reply absently causing their heads to tilt. “I can understand that.”

“Yeah, poor girl’s going through a breakup.”, Steve relays causing you to sit up and cross your legs. “Something about him cheating?”

“Yeah, um, I came home from work early and they were… fucking asshole. I’m not sure how he knew what bar I was at but—”

“Especially since he seemed to think you shouldn’t be there.” At his comment, you and Eddie shift your gaze his way before your head hangs. “Something about how you shouldn’t be drinking. It’s weird when I met you, you were sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand but you weren’t drinking it.”

When you didn’t respond, Eddie clapped his hands and tossed a smile your way.

“I have an idea. Let’s play truth or dare. It will help us get to know each other better and you can find out how much of a whiney bitch Steven is.”

The man narrows his eyes jokingly at his friend as you laugh.

“Harrington, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true… that every time your dad pisses you off you get a new tattoo?”

“Oh yeah. That’s why I have so many.”, he sasses, playfully widening his eyes as he removes his shirt to show them off. “I got this one on my stomach when my dad told me I was a waste of space for running off to join a band.”

“Steve…I’m so sorry.”, you try to comfort, reaching out to run your palm along his warm skin.

“Ed, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true…is it true you don’t smoke?”

Eddie flashes his friend a disgusted face before showing of the joint in his fingers.

“I only smoke the green stuff, my friend. I used to smoke cigarettes but after a doctor told me I was at risk because my mom died of cancer I quit the stuff.”

“That’s really good. I’m proud of you.”, you grin.

“Thank you, princess. Maybe you can help me talk Tom Delonge over here into stopping.”, he chuckles as Steve lightly kicks his friend’s knee with his bare feet. “Alright, Y/N. Truth or dare?”

“Um, truth.”

“Is it true what your boyfriend said? That you shouldn’t be drinking.”

You blink, taken off guard by his question as both men’s eyes bore into your frame.

“It’s not that I shouldn’t be. I choose not to.”

“Why?”

“I, um, I used to be an alcoholic. When I drank…I got stupid…and people got hurt.” You glance their way expecting judgement like everyone else in your life but when you’re met with their soft eyes, you smile towards Steve. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true you think less of me because I almost broke my sobriety tonight?”

As your head slightly hangs, he reaches out with his fingers to lift your chin.

“No, it’s not true. I get it, honey. Fucking asshole broke your heart and you just wanted the pain to stop. He had no right coming at you the way he did like he’s your fucking dad or something.” You can’t help but exhale as his thumb caresses your cheek before dropping his hand back around his legs and focusing on Eddie. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true you think less of Y/N?”

“God no. I think she’s strong, funny, and extremely beautiful.” You blush at his compliment, reaching out to lightly swat his arm before he swiftly grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to his lap. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

The long-haired boy smiles mischievously at your answer.

“I dare you…to kiss Steve.”

“You don’t want to kiss me?”, you ask incredulously as his grin widens.

“I do but I don’t want Harrington to think I’m trying to steal you away.”

Releasing you from his grasp, you lean back and scoot closer to his friend, closing your eyes as you inhale the smell of weed and nicotine on his breath.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”, Steve whispers and that comfort is all you need as you tilt forward so your mouth can crash to his.

The best way to describe what you were feeling was safe and you reveled in it, falling deeper and deeper in with every movement of his lips. His palm tenderly cupped your face to bring you closer as his tongue invaded and danced with yours.

“Hey, hey, hey. We aren’t done playing!”, Eddie chuckled as he swatted your two apart but Steve was unwilling as he lifted you off the floor and placed you in his lap with your back to his chest. His strong, tattooed arms wrapped around you and you melted into his embrace. “You’re turn, princess.”

“T-Truth or dare, Steve.”

“Dare, baby.”

“I dare you to take off your pants and underwear.” With one arm still wrapped around your stomach, he unbuckled his belt and awkwardly shoved down everything he was wearing below his waist. “F-Fuck.”, you moaned when his large cock sprung free and hit his stomach.

“Harrington, she’s not going anywhere. You can let her go.”

“I like feeling her against me. Truth or dare, Munson?”

“Dare, dude.”

“I dare you to help Y/N out of her clothes so we can get a good look at this beautiful woman.”

Eddie crawls towards you on his hands and knees, playfully grabbing your ankle and sliding his palm up your calf.

“Is that ok, sweetheart? Can we see your body?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah of course. Um!” They pause at your exclamation as both sets of eyes look down at you with concern. “I just feel like I should tell you…this isn’t normal for me…like I don’t go around jumping into bed with every guy…I meet at a bar.”

As you struggle through your words, Steve kisses your temple while Eddie unhooks your overalls.

“No judgments if you did, babe. We’re not like that either. I’m assuming Harrington here really likes you. He’s never brought a girl to the after party before.”

Lifting your hips, you allow him to slide off your pants while you help by removing your turtleneck and tossing it to the side.

“Is that true?”

“I’m, um, a little shy believe it or not.”, the man giggles as his lips lean down to kiss your neck.”

“Truth or dare, Y/N?”

“Truth.”, you pant as their hands caress your skin.

“Is it true you’ve never been with two men before?”

“Yes, it’s true but…”

“But what?”, Eddie coos his lips attach to the other side of your throat.

“I trust you. I can’t explain it but I do.” Neither man said a word as they continued to suck on your skin before you aggressively grabbed the long-haired boy’s collar and forced him to face you. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you both to fuck me.”

Lurching forward, his mouth needily kissed yours and you moaned at the taste of the joint on his lips. After hastily ripping off his shirt and pants with his own boxers, he pumped his cock in your direction and you didn’t even hesitate as your palm took hold of his girth and your tongue ran along the tip.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Spit on it. Get it nice and wet.” Eddie bites his bottom lip when your eyes flick up to meet his as you spit on his mushroom head and stroke it along his shaft.

A loud moan ripples through from your throat when you feel Steve adjust you slightly before sliding his fingers under the waist band of your panties and run his fingers through your folds.

“Shit, honey. Already so wet. Is this because of us?” When you nod, he mewls as he kisses your cheek. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Suck my friend’s dick. I got you.”

You did as he suggested and Eddie’s fingers tangled in your hair as he lightly thrust his hips, pushing himself as far down your throat as he could go. Your own whimper vibrated against him as Steve breached your entrance and slid one of his own digits into your cunt.

“Goddamn it, Ed. She’s so fucking tight. I wonder how she tastes.”

His friend pants out a laugh as he bends down and lifts you off Steve’s lap to place you directly onto the floor.

“If you wanted to eat her out all you had to do was ask. Is this ok, Y/N? The floor isn’t cold or anything?” Shaking your head, you reach for his lips and he smiles at your eagerness as his hands roam your skin. “You really are beautiful, baby. What’s this?”, he asks as he lifts off your bra and his fingers trace the ink on your chest. “Who’s Kallie?”

“My sister. She died three years ago.”

Eddie’s eyes scanned yours before leaning down to give you a gentle kiss.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Feathery light kisses grabbed your attention as Steve traced your thigh with his lips before deeply inhaling you through his nose between your legs.

“You smell good, honey. Can I make you feel good?”

“Please.”, you beg and he obliges as his tongue runs up your slit to your clit.

Your fingers played with his hair and with every light pull, he would moan making your eyes roll back as Eddie’s palm massaged your stomach and up between the valley of your breasts.

“Does his tongue feel good?”

“Yes. C-Can I…Can I taste you again?”

As he pushed up onto his knees, you stuck your tongue out and he licked his lips as he tapped his cock against the muscle.

“Now keep your tongue flat, baby, and I’m gonna fuck your throat while Stevie here makes you cum.”

At the sound of his name, the boy tilted back and spit directly into your hole, eliciting a filthy moan from you as he slid two of his fingers inside of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you allowed Eddie to use you as he pumped his length hard and you gagged around him.

The sound drove Steve crazy and he wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves as the obscene sound of slurping filled the room.

“Good girl. Fuck, baby. Cum on his fingers and keep that throat open for me. That’s it.”

Your pussy clung to Steve’s digits as the ball dropped and you came aggressively as he helped you through it. Kissing his way up your stomach, his lips lingered along your tattoo before you felt his tongue lick your skin to your neck.

“You taste so fucking good, honey. Taste yourself.”, he commanded in a breathy whimper as he offered you his fingers that you eagerly sucked on. “Atta girl. Sweet like you.”, he cooed with a smile as he kissed your cheek.

They exchange a glance and switch places, Steve on his knees by your head while Eddie opens your legs wider and tosses one of them over his shoulder. You mewl as he glides his cock through your folds, collecting your slick as he pumps his hips.

As he begins to push inside of you, you wince slightly at his size while he carefully inches forward.

“I know, baby. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, the other man tries to sooth as he pets your head and places tender kisses along your face. “You’re doing good.”

A jolt of electricity shoots through your body and your gaze shifts towards Eddie who was rubbing your clit with his thumb as he continued to watch himself disappear inside you.

“F-Fuck, it’s so big.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m—fuck, you’re so tight—I’m almost all the way in.”

Searching blindly behind you, it takes Steve a moment before he realizes what you’re looking for.

“You want to suck my cock, Y/N? Can you handle us both right now?”

“Yes…please…”, you whine making him groan with need as he scoots closer to your side.

When his friend bottoms out, he freezes allowing you to get used to his size as he tenderly kisses and rubs your calf against his shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

Finding a steady rhythm, Eddie obliges and so does Steve as he guides his length into your awaiting mouth.

“Shit, baby. Your mouth is amazing. Taking—mmph—taking us both so well. Y-Your pussy’s so good you shut Munson up.”, he chuckles as his friend’s head hangs absorbing the pleasure while he clings to your thigh for leverage.

Biting his bottom lip, calloused fingers play with your nipples as the other boy tilts down a bit more to do the same.

“Oh, Eddie!” As he leaned over, he brought your leg with him, pushing his cock deeper into your cunt and slamming into buttons you had no idea even existed. “Right—Right there.”

“Right there, princess? Ok…ok, I got you, baby. Daddy’s got you. Fuck.” The title threw you off guard as your pussy gripped him like a vice. “Fuck, Y/N. You like that, don’t you? Like knowing Daddy’s taking care of you?”

“Jesus.”, Steve murmured as you bobbed your head faster around him.

Placing his palms flat on the floor to balance himself, the boy above you rolled his hips practically punching the air from your lungs as you choked and spit spilled from your lips.

Steve hastily backed away, allowing you catch your breath as your eyes locked with Eddie’s.

“Say it, sweetheart. Beg Daddy to make you cum.”

“P-Please, Daddy. Make me—ahhh—make me cum. Oh f-fuck.”

Skin slapping into skin echoed through the room till your back arched and your nails dragged down his bare chest as you came.

“Jesus H. fucking Christ. W-Where can I cum, Y/N?”

“Inside…Inside please.”

Dropping your leg to the side, Eddie collapsed on top of you with his hands on either side of your head as he grunted in your ear.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Mmph—take my cum, baby. For pussy this good, it’s yours.”

His entire body trembled as his release spilled inside of you, a little chuckle leaving his lips at the feeling of your cunt milking him till he was empty.

As soon as he rolled away, Steve was at your side softly kissing your sweaty face.

“Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” When you nod, he swiftly wraps his arms around you and spins you around until your giggling on top of him. “You really are beautiful, Y/N.”

“Very. Your ex is a fucking moron.”, Eddie smirked as he lazily reached out to run his fingers along your leg.

Your own palms run along the guitarist’s chest as you take in all of his unseen tattoos that were slightly obscured by the hair on his chest.

“I like this one. ‘Jai guru deva, om’.”, you smile as you point to the words. “I wouldn’t expect a man like you to like the Beatles.”

Steve’s own grin grows as he pushes up onto his elbows.

“You really are something, aren’t you? Definitely more than what’s on the surface.”

Your lips kiss his and he cups your face bringing you with him as he lies down flat on his back once more. Feeling movement below you, you both moan as his grinds his hard, leaking cock between your legs.

As you reach between your bodies, the two of you watch as you hold onto him and gradually sink down onto his length.

“Oh my God, Steve.”

“Fuck, honey. T-Take your time. We have all night.”

As you slowly roll your hips, his large, gorgeous hands run along your thighs, up your sides, and to your breasts, kneading them in his palms as your own balance against him.

“There you go, baby. Am I—mmph—am I deep? Can you feel me right here?”

When his hand pressed on your lower tummy, your head fell back as you whimpered his name and covered it with your own. You found a rhythm as you bounced on top of him, his moans mixing with yours as he watched your body move.

“God, Y/N, you’re so fucking sexy riding my dick. That’s it, baby. Harder.”, he commanded as he spanked your behind causing you to fall forward and hold yourself up with your palms. Tilting towards you, his mouth wrapped around your nipple as his tongue flicked against the bud and he hit your ass again.

“Fuck, Steve.”

“That’s right, pretty girl. Mmm—say my name like that again.”

“S-Steve…please…I’m…”

Wrapping his arms around your back, he yanked you flat against his chest and planted his feet into the carpet as he thrust up into you roughly. Fingers threaded through your hair and pressed you to his neck as your lips clung to his skin as he grunted into your ear.

Your screams were muffled but he could hear you chanting his name as you came, driving him over the edge as his rhythm faltered and you felt his release coat your quivering walls.

You both continued to pant as he rolled you onto your side and a second set of lips tenderly kissed your shoulder.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything? Water?”, Eddie asked with a kindness behind his tone that made you smile.

“No, thank you. I’m alright.”

Nodding, he absently reached behind him and produced a blanket to cover your bodies with while Steve continued to pet your head.

“Hey, um, I have a gig on Friday in Indianapolis. Would you want to come?”

You giggle at his shyness as his friend grins wide behind you.

“I think it’s cute after what we just did, you’re still nervous to talk to me.”

“I’m not nervous to talk to you. I’m nervous…we won’t hear from you again and I don’t know about Ed but I’d like to get to know you more.”

“I definitely would. I’m going with him on Friday for a meeting and I’d love to experience one of his concerts with you. We can all get dinner afterwards…talk.”

“Truth or dare?”, you ask Eddie as you both softly smile at each other.

“Truth.”

“Is it true that I have some demons in my past that may frighten you away from me?”

The man blinks as he takes in your question before leaning down to lightly kiss your lips.

“It’s true but it takes a lot to scare me away, sweetheart. Trust me. We’ve got some demons to but we’re learning to deal with them just like you seem to be. Maybe we can even help you.”

“Truth or dare?”, you ask Steve as your turn your attention to him.

“Truth, honey.”

“Is it true that this isn’t a one-time thing for you both? That you genuinely like me.”

Smiling, his tattooed hand cups your cheek as he gives you a sloppy kiss that makes you laugh.

“It’s true. I fell for you the moment you walked into the bar. As soon as I spoke with you I knew Munson would like you to. We don’t have to move fast or anything. We can take this as slow as you need to.”

Eddie’s fingers tilt your head his way.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?”

“Dare.”, you answer as you bite your bottom lip coyly.

“I dare you to stay and give us a chance because we promise you won’t regret it.”

########################

“Whoa, Whoa, Miss Y/L/N! Everything’s ok!”, the nurse tries to comfort as you jerk up and remove the goggles from your eyes.

Glancing around you, you hear the sounds of the other participants crying and talking over one another as they describe what they saw.

“Ok, let me just check your vitals really quickly and then we can give you another relaxer to calm you—”

“Mr. Harrington, WAIT!”, another nurse shouts across the way as the man heatedly stomps away from her to grab Eddie’s sleeve and tug him out of the room.

“Mr. Harrington! Mr. Munson! Hang on now!”

“Miss Y/L/N, please come back!”

You ignored her as you jumped out of your pod to follow where they were going.

“You said it shouldn’t be a fucking problem!”, Steve hissed.

“I didn’t think it would but I’m not a fucking scientist. I haven’t physically spoken to you or seen you two years and it’s not like we were the best of friends before that! I figured ‘other realities’ of me would also know what a fucking asshole you are!”, Eddie growled back as he pushed the man away. “I didn’t expect it to be like that…”

“You two know each other?!”, you angerly whisper causing their heads to jerk your way. “So much for fucking random. Look, just keep your fucking mouths shut! I’m not getting kicked out of this thing because you two screwed everything up.”

“Excuse the hell out of me, Miss high and mighty but how is what happened our fault?!”, the pretty boy scolded as he crossed his arms. “How do you know us?”

“WHAT?!”

His palm promptly slams over your mouth as he pulls you around the corner and shoves you against the wall.

“Shhhh! You’re not the only one who needs to be here. Now, Eddie probably appeared because we’ve met each other so how do we know you?”

“I’ve never seen either of you in my life.”, you answer when he removes his hand. “And how do I know you don’t know me?” As his eyes scan you from head to toe your own roll. “Really? You are a fucking asshole.”

“I’m not trying to be. I just…My class of people don’t usually run into yours.”

“How do you even know what my class is?”

“I mean…”, he responds, gesturing absently up and down towards you.

“Wow. You were such a better person in the other universe. If I’m so beneath you, how do you know him?”

“Look, it’s none of your fucking business alright? Let’s just chalk that up to being a fluke or something and move on with your lives, hm?”, Eddie intervenes as you and Steve sigh and relent.

“Miss Y/L/N! You three need to get back inside so we can take your vitals and prepare for the interview.”, a nurse commands as she points into the room.

“Y/L/N. As in Michael Y/L/N?”

Without answering, you hurry back inside and fold your arms as you sit back near your pod.

“So you do know her?”, Eddie whispers as they both slowly enter the room.

“Uh…no. No, I know her last name. You do to…Our private school was named after him.”

The long-haired boy blinks as he tries to comprehend the information in front of him.

“Wait a minute. Why DON’T we know her then? Shouldn’t she be like a billionaire or something?”

“I don’t fucking know. Just drop it, ok. Like you said, it’s a fluke or something. Let’s just avoid her and avoid each other so we can do this and get outta here.”

#################

@baileebear @jasminelafleur @twirls827 @dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @starboygf @alba8688 @crybabyddl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @utterlyinsanity @hardladyheart

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boogernotbogger · 1 year

Text

Strawberry ice cream

Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader

Rating: teens and above

Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi and y/n meet at calculus class in college and become friends. However, y/n slowly develops feelings for Sakusa.

Word count: 6282

A/N: Please support my works on AO3 here

Weird.

It’s the first thought you have when you see the curly-haired boy poke his head into your classroom. Half his face is obscured by a mask, and you can see two tiny moles peeking out from under his hair.

It’s your second day of college, and first lecture of calculus. People are starting to trickle in, as you’re here early. And yet, the boy looks anxious. He walks in gingerly, and thoroughly sanitises the desk and chair before he sits in front of you, at the window seat. The morning sunlight streams in, and bounces through his curls, making him look like some baroque-style painting. You look out of the window and smile. This is going to be an interesting semester.

~~~

Two weeks later, it is most certainly turning out to be a not fun semester. The workload is already huge, making friends is difficult when your schedule is occupied with purely lectures and sleep, and homesickness, it turns out, is a real thing that you aren’t invulnerable to.

The masked weirdo in your calculus class seems allergic to people, and for some reason, it is really not easy to pay attention to sequences and continuity and what not, when the only thing your eyes latch onto is a halo of perfectly formed ringlets, interwoven with magical drops of sunlight.

You learn that his name is Sakusa Kiyoomi, he is a volleyball player, and a misanthrope through and through.

~~~

It takes time, but you two start to talk.

It is your third week of college, you just spoke to a blond boy more introverted than you, and you finally got your sleep schedule down. You walk into class in high spirits emboldened by your successes, plop your bag down into your seat, and go stand in front of Sakusa. He flinches, but relaxes by a smidge when he sees you not coming any closer.

“Good morning Sakusa-kun, I’m l/n y/n. we’ve never spoken before and that is kind of weird since we sit close to each other. I’m a first-year statistics student. You?”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi, first year economics. Nice to meet you.”

And thus, started your friendship.

~~~

Two months into your college life, you are fast friends with the blond, Kozume Kenma. He introduces you to Akaashi Keiji, and their respective roommates, two incredibly loud and embarrassing second years, with ridiculous hairstyles. Apparently, the four of them had been friends since their school days and played volleyball together, though the seniors seldom hung out with you as they were always busy.

By now you have also had enough time to get to know your own roommates, to watch sappy romance movies with them, and pledge lifelong friendship to them. Your social life has never been better.

And of course, come calculus class, you meet Sakusa, chat with him about whatever novel you last read, and listen to him describe the intricacies of volleyball. You find yourself thinking that you have never met anyone as passionate about anything as Sakusa is about volleyball.

His dark eyes get a glint to them, and though he refuses to take off his mask, his voice comes out clearer than anytime else. He gestures wildly with his hands, and his hair keeps flopping onto his forehead. He pushes it back impatiently each time, but continues to nod his head off each time you understand a concept clearly.

He kind of looks like one of those little dolls with springs on the bottom, that you stick on your car dashboard for amusement, with the way he bounces on his spot with enthusiasm.

It’s cute.

And you notice he has pretty hands. Like, really pretty hands.

You notice the way his eyebrows quirk in amusement when you talk about the second-hand embarrassment you endure, caused by the heroine of whichever book is your newest obsession. It makes you want to see his full smile, maybe elicit a laugh. You notice the way he raises his right eyebrow until his moles disappear under his hair, when you squeal about something especially hot in the story.

You notice that you seem to be noticing a lot about Sakusa.

~~~

One month later and you find yourself hanging out with the oddest group of friends you have ever had. You have your two roommates, one loud and social, the other adventurous and kind. Then there’s Kenma, who’s always got his nose in a game, and his ears peeled for any gossip he may inadvertently come across. There’s Keiji-kun, and he’s your favourite. He loves his studies, and he’s quiet, but he loves reading and oh boy does he have a talent for overthinking. He’s the most relatable person you have come across in college.

And of course, there is Sakusa. He is reclusive, but by now you know that it is only because he cares more about the germs on people than the people themselves. He tends to hang out more with you or with just the other two boys, than with the whole group. You are yet to figure out whether that is because he deems the other two too germy for him, or because he only likes people who like volleyball.

It had been a surprise to you when you’d introduced him to your group, only for the other two boys to just nod as if they knew him already. And then they’d told you about their volleyball history, and how his school always beat theirs.

“Oh yes y/n, didn’t I tell you Bokuto-san considered him his rival, because Sakusa-san was the nation’s top spiker, and Bokuto-san narrowly missed being in the top 3?” was Keiji’s very succinct explanation of the whole situation.

And that’s how you had found out that not only was Sakusa a volleyball-freak, he was the nation’s top volleyball-freak, and had represented the country several times in the under-19 category.

(So had Bokuto-san, the owl-like senior who was Keiji’s best friend and captain, but you found that out only when you went to sit in on your college team’s practice sessions.)

(It had bugged you that Sakusa had never told you this before, but you let it go. Sakusa was a very private person, and the only times he spoke voluntarily were when he talked about volleyball. He had no ill intentions.)

~~~

Your first semester ends, and you celebrate with your group by playing games in Kenma’s apartment. It feels nice, talking and laughing with everyone, but after a point, your social battery dips and you find yourself zoning out from whatever banter was currently happening. Something about whether Kenma’s best friend and roommate Kuroo Tetsuro had a better hairstyle than Keiji’s best friend and roommate Bokuto Kotaro.

Honestly though, that wasn’t even a conversation worth having. They both looked stupid. One looked like a rooster shat on his head, the other looked like an owl sponsored his hair gel supplies.

Kenma had dug out an old Monopoly board from somewhere and that was the game currently happening, with you and Sakusa acting as joint bankers. You had both learnt long ago that it is more fun to incite the players against each other than to be one of them. And this was a modified version of Monopoly that you lot had come up with, having a lot of extra and needlessly complicated rules, so it was definitely more fun to just watch.

Sakusa was strangely quiet too. He generally tended to be quiet, but just a couple of hours ago he had gone into a very passionate speech over how strawberry ice cream is the best ice cream to ever exist. He’d accepted no arguments to the contrary.

“It may be pink and look like something Barbie puked, but it tastes exactly like Barbie’s dreams. Strawberry ice cream tastes like freedom and empowerment: I can be anything! It is sweeter than vanilla, not that vanilla is less good, no, vanilla is also a great flavour; it is just that strawberry is superior. Strawberry ice cream is sweet like syrup, like the drinks your grandmother made for you in your childhood when you came home after rolling in mud the whole day. If ‘happy memories’ had a flavour, it would be strawberry. Yes, my argument is based on nostalgia, and you can laugh all you want, but you have to admit that if you had a happy childhood, it was pink. If you didn’t have a happy childhood, well you certainly wish you did. You wish for happy memories and a future you can look out on with hope and love. La vie en rose, I say! Life in pink! That is the wonder of strawberry ice cream! And not to mention, all your childhood drawings of ice cream had a pink scoop dripping off the cone. Whether you want to or not, subconsciously you have all accepted that strawberry is the default, and hence, the best ice cream flavour. Thus, I rest my case.”

With that, he’d sat back down, and licked off the final drops of his chocolate ice cream, and grabbed the controller for the next round of Mario Kart. You’d clapped, because come on, an impassioned speech like that deserves applause. One single corner of his mouth lifted, and he turned to you to flash you a dimple before his eyes fixed back on the screen. The gesture did not make you imagine what it would be like to poke your tongue in his dimple.

But after that incident, he was mostly silent, the speech probably draining him of whatever social battery he did have. He sat next to you now, calculating the amount each person owed the bank, and adding the penalties Keiji had accumulated from making fun of the strawberry-speech.

Yes, the penalties were for incidents that happened before the game started. You can’t argue with the banker for the banker is God.

You mostly left the banker-ing to Sakusa, while you got lost in your daydreams. Kenma was now in jail because he said that his school’s libero was better than Sakusa’s.

Which reminded you of the last book you’d read. It had had a character who was in jail for most of the story. He’d coordinated his attack plans from there. When the villain came to taunt him, he’d very suavely escaped and kabedonned her. But just when he expected her to swoon from his good looks and his proximity, she’d pulled out a dagger from under her skirt and stabbed him.

You’ve always wanted a dagger to hide under your clothes. Actually, you wouldn’t mind being kabedonned either, but Sakusa had very firmly declared the gesture ‘lame’ when you’d told him about it, and now you remembered that you were supposed to be annoyed at him for it. Because seriously, the audacity!

DHONN!

You jerk upwards to see the group laughing at you. Sakusa had apparently just banged a juice can on the table next to your face to get your attention.

“Huh?”

“You’d zoned out for longer than usual y/n. and you looked pissed. All ok?” Sakusa asks, but he is clearly amused.

“Kabedons are cool,” you declare, and get up to fetch yourself another slice of pizza.

He just snorts.

For some reason, it sounds cute. And now your brain is filled with images of a cute pink piggy with an incredibly curly tail. Like an oinky Kiyoomi. Kiyooink.

You laugh. You are definitely going to tell him this later.

~~~

The next semester starts, and you and Sakusa don’t have classes in common anymore. You see him around campus less, and spend less time together. Now that he has also adjusted to college life, he is paying more attention to volleyball. The end of the previous semester was filled with matches, but this semester he spends less time with the college team, and more time with the national under-19 team. You attend some practices when you can, sometimes with friends. Keiji-kun and Kenma explain various moves to you, and introduce you to other players they know. It is a fun experience. All the boys are like Sakusa, incredibly passionate about the sport, incredibly talented, and at least a foot taller than you. They towered over you when you first went to talk to them, but you soon learn that they are all sweet goofy kids with only volleyballs for brains.

You notice that they maintain a physical distance from Sakusa, only getting closer to him when necessary. But even so, he seems more at-home with his team than in your motley group of friends. It makes your heart ache sometimes, that there is someone right in front of you, whom you want to be closer to, but there is a seemingly uncrossable chasm between you. And yet he would turn towards you and flash a dimple, and you would berate yourself for not being grateful for the attention he already gives you.

~~~

First year ends, and you all go home for the holidays. You make no plans to meet each other, since you will inevitably meet once the new semester starts. You spend your two-month break laying about in bed, watching anime, and reading books.

You also make sure to call and text your friends regularly. Keiji-kun sends you memes, Kenma texts you about whatever anime character you get obsessed with. Your roommate-groupchat is filled with vacation photos of you 3. Life is good.

You notice that Sakusa never texts. Sakusa never calls. Sakusa never reaches out to you. But when you do call him, you both talk for hours, and time passes by in the blink of an eye.

With every phone call, every text, and every laugh you share, you wish and wish he had started it. You wish he had been the first to reach out to you. You wish, for once, he would call you. You wish, for once, he would share something about himself with you that was only for you to know.

You wish, and you wish, and you wish.

~~~

Second year starts, and all your friendships pick up right where they left off. Except that Sakusa is hardly ever around anymore.

When you asked about his absence, he simply said, “I studied hard and played hard during the holidays. Now I do not have to put in as much effort into classes, because most of the hard work is already done. I can focus on volleyball to my heart’s content.”

And that is what he does. You have no idea whether or not he attends his classes, but whenever he has free time, either he is studying by himself, or he is off doing drills by himself. It has been a full year since you became friends with him, and yet, he seems as distant today as he was on the first day.

It hurts. You miss having more free time to spend with him. And yet, you have no right to complain. His first love is volleyball, and he has made it clear to you that his priorities will never change.

It hurts, but you push it aside. You have other friends to spend your time with. On days when all six of you unexpectedly have free time, or on less academically challenging days, your group, including Sakusa, hangs out together. You generally go to the local fast-food joint, he would sanitise the table, and never take off his mask. But he would be there. He would be there for these small moments, and you cherish every mask-covered smile he gives, every sarcastic comment he makes.

You miss your friend, but for now, this is enough for you.

~~~

Second year passes thus: you are swamped with coursework, you hang out with your group whenever possible, you go out exploring the city with your roommates, and you get fleeting moments with Sakusa.

You’re almost happy with the set-up, but each time you talk to Sakusa, you want more. You want to talk to him more. You want him to talk to you more. You want to listen to his excited volleyball rants.

You want the days when your biggest problem was your inability to focus on differentiation because of a head of gold-infused raven curls. You want your friend.

So you call. You roughly know what his schedule is. Sometimes you go meet him when practice gets over, sometimes you call. He is tired, irritable, and excited all at once, but he seems to love gushing over whatever play he tried that day, and you enjoy the moments you spend with him.

He never calls though. He tells you that he appreciates you calling him, because your company is always welcome, yet, he never calls. You know that that in no way implies that he doesn’t like you, and yet, it hurts.

You tell yourself it hurts because he is your friend, and he has a scarcity value attached to him.

~~~

The only difference between second year and third year is that, Sakusa now has an undercut.

The semester starts with your group meeting up to celebrate Japan’s performance in the recent 2016 Rio Olympics. Sakusa and Bokuto had been second-string spikers on the team, and Sakusa had been called on-court multiple times as pinch server. His nasty wrists made it damn near impossible to dig out the ball, even on the international level – the world stage. You were so, so proud of your friend, and your celebrations continued well beyond midnight.

When the party finally ends, it is with Keiji dragging off a mildly-drunk but sleepy Bokuto, back to their apartment, Kenma asleep on the couch, and Sakusa offering to walk you back to your apartment. The other two girls had left already, since they have classes early in the morning and you don’t.

You walk back in silence, and for the first time, it is suffocating. You look up at him, wanting to gauge his mood after such a raucous celebration, and notice that he hasn’t put his mask back on yet. You figured out pretty early on in your friendship that that is a sign that he trusts you aren’t disgusting enough to warrant wearing a mask around. It’s quite flattering really.

“The weather is nice, isn’t it?” he starts, and stops immediately when you snort at the lame conversation starter.

“Well, you aren’t talking, so I thought I could try,” he shrugs, and you smile.

“Not a bad effort,” you answer. “Well, Sakusa-kun, we are being blessed with sunshine these days, and it’s very nice and warm at all times. Although, one could argue that the warmth right now is due to your inherent hotness.”

You look up at him, anticipating his reaction, and he doesn’t disappoint. He throws his head back and laughs, a quiet, precious thing, and you bottle up this moment to keep with you for the next time you miss him.

“I missed this. Training was gruelling, and the matches were exhilarating. I was always so high on emotions that by the time the Games were over, I was just done. Exhausted. Came home and just slept for the next week. I didn’t realise how much I missed your nonsense until just now, when I have to deal with your nonsense.” His eyes are soft, but all you can focus on is-

“Nonsense?! Sakusa Kiyoomi, I will have you know that the only nonsense here is you...”

He laughs again, and you trail off. You’ve never noticed before, but he’s grown. He was always tall and well-built, but there is a softness in the way he speaks now, that wasn’t there when you first met him. The way he carries himself has changed too, shoulders held back and proud. He is still the wary boy you had befriended two years ago, but there is a manly charm that wasn’t there before. And suddenly you want to continue talking. Comforting as it is now, you don’t want the conversation to trail off into the sweet silence it is heading towards. You feel the sudden urge to know him, stronger than you ever have before, and before you can help it, you blurt out, “You could have called me, you know. Or texted. I missed you as well, but I didn’t want to disturb you during the freaking Olympics! But even otherwise, you do know that I would like it if you reached out to me, right? Like on normal, non-Olympic days, you could text just because you feel like it.”

He frowns, and says, “I probably should. Honestly, it’s not like I don’t text you on purpose, I just kind of… forget. I don’t forget you, I just get caught up in stuff, or my brain is filled with TV static, and I don’t reach out to anybody at all. But I’ll try, okay? Yeah, you would probably ditch me if you are the only one forced to keep this relationship going, and that would be a pity.”

He reaches up to ruffle his hair, a rare occurrence because hair is filled with germs, and that’s when you notice it. The back of his head is buzzed close to his scalp, but hidden by the longer curls above. “You got an undercut?”

He frowns at the sudden change in topic, but nods, “Yeah, my nape kept getting sweaty, and other guys in the national team had undercuts and they found it functional, so I thought I’d try it. It does feel very nice actually. I still have my curls, but I don’t have to deal with too much sweat. Why?”

“I noticed it just now. It looks good. Really brings out your jaw. Probably explains why your jaw looks more prominent now. Good going.” You give him a thumbs up as a reassurance that it does look good, and turn around to enter your building. “Thanks for dropping me off, get home safe, okay?”

He waves, and disappears into the night, his own apartment a short walk from yours. You sigh as you climb the stairs.

Good was an understatement. Hot was better. Sexy was probably apt. You wonder if he will let you run your fingers through his shorn locks, and sigh again.

You are a reader. Perhaps all you can do is dream.

~~~

After the party at Kenma’s, college life went back to normal. Sakusa seldom hung out with the group, choosing instead to spend his time on volleyball. But after your conversation, he made it a point to text you every once in a while. True, they were just forwarded ‘good morning’ messages, sometimes memes about clichéd romance tropes, but it was better than nothing. Each text from him made your heart beat just a little faster.

~~~

It does not come as a surprise to you when you realise you have a crush on your friend. On your friend whose heart belongs to volleyball. On your friend who never opens up to you, and who is happy talking to you once every couple of weeks.

You embrace the feeling, and the sadness it brings with it. What else can you do? He’s one of your dearest friends, and he does deserve to know how you feel about him.

But again, you have a crush on someone you already love dearly. Can it even be considered a crush? You’ve had crushes before, and those feelings were always made of just a combination of wild giggling and nervous excitement. This however, this is a warmth in your chest and a smile on your face. This feeling, is a quiet little laugh, dispersing in the night like dandelions in the wind. This feeling is the excited glint in dark eyes when passions are aroused. This feeling is a cute head bobbing along to your words. This feeling is two moles on a forehead, curly hair over a shorn nape, pretty fingers gesturing wildly.

This feeling, it feels like strawberry ice cream on a warm summer day, when you’ve just returned home.

~~~

Obviously, you tell the rest of your friends. You do need people you can fangirl to about him. They’re quite supportive really, given the circumstances. They encourage you to tell him how you feel, but Kenma adds, “You need to remember that he may not reciprocate, y/n. In fact, there is a greater chance he won’t reciprocate. I don’t want you to get hurt or lose your friend, but I do think you would feel better if you tell your friend that you’ve got a crush.”

And that is the problem, isn’t it? You want to tell your friend that you have a crush on somebody. It kills you that if you tell him whom you’ve got a crush on, he’ll probably avoid you. But if you don’t tell him, you’ll suffer in silence, wondering about all the ‘what if’s’.

For now, you bury the matter. You want to enjoy this, this feeling, just a little longer.

And so you simp. You squeal over his voice and his muscles with your roommates, you swoon over every sweet gesture he does, and you endlessly simp over his pretty, pretty hands to Keiji-kun. He’s probably grown sick of you by now, but it is funny to see him annoyed.

~~~

Third year ends with Bokuto signing on to Division-1 team MSBY Black Jackals.

Your last year of college begins with heavy research for your final-year project. On top of that, you now have to study for entrance exams, and college exams, and explore colleges for further studies. You know that you want to go into finance, and for that you now have to deal with an internship on top of everything else.

All of a sudden, you are under more stress than you have ever been in.

And then in the middle of the seventh semester, Sakusa drops a bombshell, “I think I will move to Higashiosaka after my graduation. I want to try out for the Black Jackals. They have Miya Atsumu and Bokuto-san, and I will be lucky to continue working together with those two monsters.”

Your heart stops. You need to tell him. He deserves to know. You had put off your feelings as a problem for the future, but the future is now.

~~~

Barely a week has passed after this conversation, and you call Sakusa crying, “Kiyoomi-kun, please can we meet? My project is going nowhere, and I think I have way too much on my plate right now, and I feel so selfish saying that to a person loaded with the same coursework as me, and is balancing a professional athletic lifestyle on top of it, but I don’t know what else I can do!”

Ten minutes later finds you both sitting on some bricks in an abandoned alley in your neighbourhood.

You rant and rant and cry out all your overwhelming feelings of helplessness about your current academic load. Sakusa sits quietly, and just listens to you cry your heart out, offering water every time you pause for breath.

“… I think that covers everything, I’m sorry for dumping it all on you so suddenly. I think I just got overwhelmed and had to let it all out of my system. I’ll be fine once I sleep,” you conclude.

“It wasn’t a problem at all y/n. And it isn’t selfish to be overwhelmed, or to tell me that you are. I have been balancing volleyball with studies for my whole life, obviously I’m doing fine now. But thanks for trusting me.”

You sniffle a bit more, and manage a small smile. He presses your bottle into your hands, and you chug down more water.

It hurts. He’s your friend, and he’s perfect and it hurts. You hadn’t sought him out today because you wanted him, but because he is your closest friend and his presence comforts you like no one else’s. but he’s sitting right next to you without his mask, despite your disgusting runny nose, and he’s offering to be there for you when you need it, and he tries to message you because it makes you happy, and it just hurts. You need to tell him.

“There’s one more thing. Just hear me out, okay?” you stand up and start pacing and continue without giving him a chance to reply, “I love you. You are one of my best friends and I love you. Except that I also like you. As in, I like you like you. As in, I have a crush on you. Except that you are my friend and I love you, and is it even possible to have a crush on someone you already love so dearly? Therefore, I think I’m in love with you. And it hurts. It hurts that there’s something, no someone, I want so deeply, and they’re right here, but they don’t want me the way I want them. You love volleyball, and you’ll be in Osaka this time next year, and I could try to look for placements there, but then, I should probably just let go, right? I mean, you barely text me because your brain is filled with ‘TV static’, so really, what are the odds you like me the same way I like you? You find romantic stuff lame and you find germs too germy. So yeah. That’s it. I’ll shut up now before I do irreversible damage to our friendship.”

You finally look up and meet his eyes.

~~~

He’s there.

When you’re smiling, he’s there.

When you get excited about your books, he’s there.

When you worry about your fears coming true, he’s there.

And when you’re at your lowest, he’s there.

How could you have been expected not to fall in love with this man? This man who has been there for you through all your highs and lows, who has smiled for you each time you’ve felt joy, who’s laughed with you each time you planned for the happy days ahead, and who’s just been there each time you needed somebody to be there for you; how could you not fall in love with this man?

You look at him. You look at him and you see your best friend, your confidant, your first love. But for the first time, you see beyond his pretty fingers and his soothing smile and his calm rationale. You see the apprehension in his eyes, the very real fear of what is to come.

And even then, he smiles.

He’s there. He’s right there in front of you and you are looking at him, and for the first time, you see a lover.

He must be able to see the hope blooming on your face, for his own tentative smile unfurls into that quiet chuckling laugh you have grown to love.

“I thought it was all in my head y/n. Your weird flirting and the sexual tension that popped up out of nowhere,” he announced, clearly very proud of having figured you out before you announced yourself.

“Weird flirting? I was not trying to flirt…” you started, before he laughed again and started to stride towards you, gleam in his eye as if you were Miya Atsumu’s toss just waiting for him.

“Wha-“ DHHONNN.

You were too stunned to even flinch. Did he just kabedon you? His left forearm was right next to your right ear, and he had a little smirk on his face, probably excited that he caught you off-guard. It was, without a doubt, a kabedon.

Wait. Did Sakusa Kiyoomi just kabedon you?

Did you just experience the first kabedon of your life from Sakusa-I-think-cliché-romance-hero-gestures-are-lame-Kiyoomi?

Holy fuck do you need to fangirl. Right now.

“You really need to work on your flirting skills,” he breathes, his face mere inches from yours, his arm resting so casually near your face that one would think he practised kabedonning as a hobby.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEE-P“

He shoves his palm against your mouth, cutting off your squeal, and very effectively ruining the moment. Obviously, you lick the offending appendage. He looks scandalised.

“One moment. One moment, y/n! I thought I could surprise you with some lame cliché romance-hero move, and you just have to squeal in my face and lick my hand. You think you can look all cool and profess your undying love for me, but I can’t get one moment to one-up you? That’s it, romance over. We are done here.”

He turns away, as if about to leave, his hand still over your mouth. You reach out to grab him, but before you can, he turns back around and scoops both your wrists up in his one hand and pins them above your head in one smooth swoop, as if he practises this stuff every day as a hobby. His left arm has not moved even half an inch from its place near your face.

All you can do is stare at him as his smirk returns, with a light dusting of pink across his pale cheeks, as though he himself can’t believe his smoothness. Clearly, the ruined moment can be salvaged.

Very wisely, you keep your mouth shut and your squeal inside your throat.

He walks further towards you, until you feel your feet touching and there remain only a couple of inches separating your faces.

He deliberately looks down at your lips, before slowly lifting his face to your eyes. His own lips look soft and pink and pouty, and you have no idea what must be happening on your face, but it must be good enough for him to blush harder.

You have dreamed of kissing the pink off those cute pouty lips for ages and now that you actually can, he isn’t moving. He is just looking at you, drinking you in, as if mesmerised by whatever romantic fantasies are unfurling behind your eyes.

Or maybe he is just waiting for you to consent to him kissing you? Your brain very helpfully provides.

You close your eyes and nod, unable to bear the intensity of the moment.

It seems that that was all he was waiting for because you immediately feel his hand cup your face, leaving its place near you head. And suddenly, you feel the softest pressure against your lips.

The moment ends as soon as it begins, and when it becomes obvious that it will not continue, you open your eyes. Sakusa Kiyoomi stands in front of you, your face in his hand, your wrists in his other hand, his face as pink as his lips, and all you can say is, “hey man when you have your moment, you decide to end it even before it starts! Kiss me properly, I seem to be unable to move.”

He starts laughing, and dives back towards your face, muffling his laughs against your mouth. His fingers tighten around your wrists, and you squirm, wanting to touch him properly now that you have got your bearings a bit. His hand doesn’t loosen though, damn volleyball hand training!

He smiles against your mouth, as if sensing the direction of your thoughts, and you feel his knees parting your own. Very weakly, you part your legs, knowing that at this point, you are very pliable putty in his very capable volleyballer hands.

He doesn’t let the moment escalate though. All he does his keep one leg between yours to pull you close. He keeps your hands out of reach of his body, with his other arm somehow magically around your waist as if to pull you into him, and continues kissing you.

You decide to make as much of this situation as you can and let your tongue peek out of your mouth, but he pulls back. It feels like rejection until-

“One step at a time y/n. I need to sanitise my hand where you licked me, let’s not go into both our tongues licking the others’ yet.” You deem this as enough of a not-rejection, your ears giddily ringing with the word ‘yet’, as he releases you.

He steps back, letting your arms fall back to your sides, and caresses your jaw once before whipping out his sanitiser and practically dousing his hand in it.

“Want me to set it on fire? Alcohol is flammable and it has a greater chance of killing all germs,” you tease, as he pulls your hands towards him, sanitising your wrists where his hand had held you.

Once he is done sanitising, he turns to you and says, “In case that wasn’t a clear enough answer- yes, I want to date you as well. I love you, and have, for a while. We’ll figure out the future together, okay?”

And before you can answer, he grabs your left hand again, but this time, simply holds it as you both walk towards your neighbourhood. The sky has turned darker by now, a pretty shade of pink that you think very accurately matches the colour on both your cheeks. All you can do is turn towards him and smile your biggest smile, as your brain finally decides to reboot.

Sakusa Kiyoomi loves you. Sakusa Kiyoomi is yours for the foreseeable future. Sakusa Kiyoomi is holding your hand in his.

Sakusa Kiyoomi just turned one of your deepest kabedonning fantasies into reality with the same hand that is holding yours right now.

You can’t help it. You are a fangirl after all.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE……”

“DAMN WOMAN WILL YOU STOP SQUEALING YOU SOUND LIKE A RAT TRING TO EVADE CAPITAL PUNISHMENT!”

But his smile never wanes, and his hand tightens around yours, pulling you closer.

~~~

“Hey, I’m really in the mood for some strawberry ice cream right now.”

“Hah, so you agree strawberry is superior!”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #akaashi keiji #kozume kenma #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #pining #slow burn #canon compliant #mentioned bokuto kotaro

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

Text

Carry You Home

Part 8 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: The holidays in San Diego are drier and hotter than you're used to. But with Jake, Callie, Neil and all of your friends there, they should be fun, right? Wrong. At the request of Mama Georgie you and Jake pack up to head to Texas for Christmas. But what you find there is something you'd never expect to find, in more ways than one. Disclaimers: Arguments, Alcohol, Homophobic Language Warning: Female Reader Word Count: 6282 Author Note: Here’s part 8 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car). Here's the drama! GG and Jake head to Texas and it's... not great? Jake and his siblings are all amazing, but there is another member of the family I introduce you all to who is anything but. I hope you all like it! AO3: Cross-posted Here! My Masterlist Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

The holiday season in San Diego is always a little - interesting. You only get white snow drenched Christmases in the movies in California. But you honestly wouldn’t trade your California Christmases for anything in the world. That’s due, in part, to the family you’ve found yourself a part of. Jake and Javy are always around, filling your house with light and laughter, their bond stronger than blood. Callie and Neil are always around too, your family blending perfectly with Jake’s like they’ve always belonged together. With Callie, comes Tasha, who Callie confided to you, might be the one. With Tasha comes Bob. And once you’ve got Bob coming, it was only natural to invite the other Daggers. Soon enough, your house is the place to be for any elite aviator posted at North Island.

That’s no less true as you clean up in the kitchen after the first Thanksgiving you’ve ever hosted. The football game is blaring out from your living room and you can hear the boys’ exaggerated boos and smack talk emanating through the house. You’re loading the last of the dinner plates into the dishwasher when your phone rings as Jake makes his way into the kitchen.

You’re giggling into the phone when you pick it up. How can you be anything but happy with a 6-foot-tall man, your 6-foot-tall man, draped across your back?

“Mama Georgie! Hi! Happy Thanksgiving!” You’re smiling from ear to ear as Jake kisses the side of your head. You grin as Jake’s mom tells you all about the Seresin family Thanksgiving spread.

“Thanks for sending me your pie recipes, Mama Georgie! They went over a treat here. Twelve aviators and they ate every crumb. I made four pies!” You can’t even object when Jake snatches the phone from you to steal his mama for himself a little.

“Hey, mama! I’m missing all of y’all today. It’s not Thanksgiving if I’m not home. But thankfully my gorgeous girl was here and gave me a slice of home so I don’t miss you too badly.” Heat rushes through your system, settling hot in your chest like it always does when Jake calls you his.

It’s as you pull out the apple cider from the fridge, for the spiked apple cider you're serving after the game, that you hear Jake’s tone change.

“Sir.” That one word is enough to capture your interest. Who in his family would Jake call sir? Not his brothers. His dad or his grandfather then.

“Yessir. I was planning on coming home for Christmas, sir.” When you turn around, all of the joy has drained right out of Jake’s face. His green eyes look almost angry as you leave the cider ingredients on the counter and walk right to his side. To his credit, he tries to stay light-hearted for you, mouthing "my dad" and rolling his eyes, but after nearly a year and a half together, you're sure you can read Jake a bit better than that.

Jake's worried, worried and tense about something. You know he's more than his Hangman persona, and you're sure you can read every sign of Jake putting that mask on from the first indicator. But right now? It's not Hangman schooling his emotions, and it's not your goofy golden retriever of a boyfriend. This is somebody else.

"I've got two weeks of leave, sir, and I am planning on flying in on the 22nd or 23rd and leaving shortly after the New Year." Your hands glide easily over the slick soft material of the eye-blindingly bright orange jersey covering Jake's torso as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"Am I bringing my girl home?" You can feel every muscle under your fingertips tense. "I have to double check that she doesn't have plans already, sir."

You can hear a voice that sounds so much like Jake's spilling out of the phone. It sounds similar, yes, but there is a harshness to this voice you’ve never heard in Jake’s. The underlying aura of casual cruelty this voice emanates has chills running down your spine. From how tense Jake is as he wraps an arm around you, like he's reaching for a buoy to keep him afloat in rough waters, you know you're right to worry.

You don't know when Jake hangs up the call, because the next thing you know are his arms curled tight around you. Your cheek is pressed tightly to his chest and you can hear the steady whoosh of his breathing.

"You back with me, gorgeous?" You nuzzle in closer, all of a sudden so relaxed that you could fall asleep just like this.

“Yeah, Jay.” You slide your hands under Jake’s jersey, tracing the strong muscles of his back as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

“So you heard that, yeah?” You nod as you finally pull away, pulling out a pot from the cupboard to start on the cider.

“Was that your dad?” You’re cutting up apples as Jake muscles up to the counter next to you.

“Yeah. D’you need any spices for the cider?” He’s already poured out the gallons of cider into the pot and set it to simmer.

“What did he want? For the cider I’ll need a stick of cinnamon, a couple of cloves, a half-inch piece of ginger and a bit of citrus peel all in one of those spice sachets. I’ve got the orange peel on the cutting board for you, Jay.” You can’t hide your smile as Jake drops a kiss to your lips before nabbing the peel to add the to sachet that he’s already got mostly assembled.

“He wants you to come home with me for Christmas.” You can’t read Jake’s tone as he says those words. “Put the sachet into the pot?”

“Yeah, the sachet goes right into the pot.” You carefully lower the apple slices into the pot and put the lid on it before turning around. Jake’s got his arms crossed against the counter, looking right at you. “Do you want me to come home with you for Christmas?”

“Of course I do, baby doll.” But you know there’s something Jake’s hiding from you. You can see words at the tip of his tongue as he tries to think of a spin to what his first initial thought is.

“Then what’s going on? Is it your family?” You must be frowning because Jake’s hands rise up to squish your cheeks even as he brings your forehead to meet his. Your lips brush lightly across his as you continue to speak, even as your voice is muffled by the tight grip he has on your cheeks. “I mean, I met Mama Georgie and Will when you were in the hospital and they loved me. At least I think they did? I wasn’t at my best though so who even knows if they saw anything other than a mess? I hope they loved me, Jay!”

Jake’s chuckling as he looks into your eyes, so amused by your obvious distress. You’re still blathering on about your intense need to make sure Jake’s family liked you when you get cut off by his lips covering yours. Your eyes flutter closed on instinct as your arms rise to wrap around Jake’s neck. His tongue slips easily between your parted lips even as his hands slide under your blouse to meet the bare skin at the waistband of your jeans. Jake kisses all of the thoughts out of your head for several moments before a set of sharp wolf-whistles breaks you apart. You’re blushing a little, your face hot, as you bury yourself into Jake’s chest just a little before walking to the stove to check on the cider. Unsurprisingly, it’s Callie, Tasha, and Javy standing right there, looking at you and Jake with amused eyes.

“I thought we were getting cider. Then we walk in here and you’re all loved up, sucking face with your boy toy?” It’s Callie, taking advantage of one of the few times she can tease you, of course. But that’s your one advantage, having a best friend who confides in you about everything and whose spare keys you have.

You flip her off before grinning, “At least you haven’t walked in on us fucking on the sofa, Cal! Of course, I can’t say the same thing about you.”

Your remark takes the heat off of you and Jake and you’re more than pleased when all three of your friends walk out of the kitchen bickering with each other. By the resulting roar coming out of your living room, it’s a topic of conversation that all of the other aviators latch on to quite easily. More importantly, it leaves you and Jake alone in the kitchen again.

“As I was saying, before we were so rudely interrupted earlier,” Jake cages you up against the kitchen counter, capturing your lips in another kiss. “They loved you, gorgeous. Mama loves you in a way she’s never loved any of my other girlfriends. She keeps asking me how you are, how you’re doing. It’s why she has your phone number in the first place. I promise they adore you.” He’s peppering kisses across your face between words.

“Then what is it, Jake?” You can’t hide how worried you feel. It’s coloring your tone even as you trace the longhorn emblazoned across his chest with your eyes.

“It’s not you, sweetheart. It’s not my mom or siblings either. It’s my dad.” Those last words are practically whispered into your hair. “I've told you a little bit about him. You know what he's like. I really hoped I wouldn't have to ever introduce him to you. He's going to say a lot of shit, baby. I know he will. But if you truly want to come to Texas for me, I'll make sure he doesn't take his anger at me out on you."

"Why would he be angry at you, Jake?" You really don't understand why anybody would be mad at him.

"Because I've never been the son he wanted. The son he deserves. I was supposed to go to law school and then come back to be legal attache to the ranch and his legal council while he ran for office. I ruined all of that by joining the Navy."

It’s a thought you ruminate on for the rest of the night, while you’re cleaning up and getting ready for bed. Jake drives them straight out of your head soon afterwards, drugging you with the heat of his skin and press of his mouth.

You don’t remember Jake’s words again until you’re waiting for your bags at baggage claim in the Austin airport a couple of days before Christmas. Most people are excited to go home for the holidays right? Jake’s got a grimace on his face, one more akin to a man facing the gallows than a man going home to his beloved family. Coupled with the incredibly apparent storm clouds around him, and you’re already bracing yourself for a wholly uncomfortable Christmas. It’s a foul miasma which surrounds you from the moment you get into the taxi and all the way through the drive.

Jake’s smiling, showing you all of the sights, coupled with anecdotes about his childhood. It’s nice, of course, seeing where Jake grew up, but there is something not quite right about his artificial good mood. All of the houses are covered in colorful lights and the atmosphere looks straight out of a storybook - if you switch out Texas scrub for snow, of course.

Seresin Ranch is just as festively decorated as every other property you've seen so far. At about an hour's drive from the airport, you'd half expected a little place in the middle of nowhere. You couldn't have been more wrong. There is an entire village's worth of houses on the many acres of land on the ranch, each covered in string lights. Ranch hands scurry to and fro, working cattle, training horses, and carting bales of hay to the big red barns you can see in the distance. You look out on the whole affair with fascination, the city-girl in you in awe at the foreign sights.

It's mid-afternoon as your cab pulls up the winding main road up to the biggest house you've ever seen. Jake's always carried this worldly, cultured air about him, and looking at his childhood home, you can see why. The main ranch house is up on a hill, overlooking the acres of land it's built on. The air smells crisp and clean as you step out of the taxi with the assistance of the butler. You also inexplicably feel out of place - like a little kid playing dress-up with their mother's heels and makeup or a wolf in sheep's clothing. Your simple, yet good quality jacket, cable-knit sweater, jeans and boots feel drab in comparison to the opulence you're sure you'll see on the inside.

No wonder the butler looks down his hooked nose at you. You look like a peasant entering the royal palace through the front gate on the arm of the prince. It clicks all of a sudden for you - why Jake's always so put-together, always so perfect. It has to be the effects of growing up in this place. The polished marble floor shows your entire reflection as you step carefully through the open front door into the foyer. Each of your footsteps echoes, ricocheting through the cavernous space as you hand your jacket to the butler and clutch your purse closer to your side.

"Here, gorgeous." Jake's voice eases some of the tension you feel, especially as his arm wraps around your shoulder and his lips press against your temple as he hands you your gift for his parents. It's nothing special - a couple of bottles of wine, one of the best varieties you could get, in a basket along with toys for the dogs, chocolates, and a throw blanket. Jake had approved of the basket and your idea for its contents when you'd suggested it, but standing in the foyer of his home, you're about ninety-nine percent sure it's cheap, far cheaper than his parents deserve.

Before you can ponder hiding it, Mama Georgie's already walking regally down the front stairs, her dimples twinkling in the sunlight as she walks faster than you ever could in her heels to greet her son. There is true affection and love in every interaction Mama Georgie has with Jake. You'd seen it in the hospital when Jake had been injured and you see it now. Side by side, the observation you'd made about mother and son while Jake was in the hospital is even more true - Jake is just like his mother, especially when they smile standing there side by side looking at you.

“Hi Darling! How are you? How was your trip? It wasn’t too bad was it? Y’all are just in time for dinner! I made your favorite, Jakey - my chili!” If there’s one person other than Jake who you’ve met that can put you at ease, it’s his mom. Mama Georgie sweeps you up into her arms for the firmest, most motherly, hug you’ve felt in a long time before dragging you after her into the kitchen, babbling a mile a minute. As sterile as the main foyer has been, the colossal chef-grade kitchen is anything but. The entire room is suffused with the warm smells of spices. There are two tow-headed toddlers standing at the counter gleefully mashing cookie dough between their fingers and three big dogs waiting for scraps. Arrayed around the room are what must be the remainder of Jake’s siblings and their spouses. Laughter is an undercurrent to the warm atmosphere.

“Can I get y’all anything to drink? Anything to eat? Jakey I know you haven’t been eating properly. Look at you, you’re so thin!” You smile unabashedly at the rising chorus of coo-ing noises as all four of Jake’s siblings join in on making their brother blush. Jake takes one look at your laughing face and wraps you in a bear hug, kissing you until your face is hot and your giggles are gone.

When he pulls away, he murmurs, “So you’ll pick my brothers and sisters before me, huh?” You know he’s not angry though, not when he’s smirking at you.

“They’re a funny bunch, Jay! What am I supposed to do?” You’re grinning fondly as Jake rolls his eyes.

To the room at large, he introduces you before abandoning you to his sisters and going to beg his mom for a snack she’s already assembling in bowls. If only the Daggers were here to hear how whiny the cool and collected Hangman can get. It makes you smile even wider as you chat with Jake’s sisters and sisters-in-law. From what Jake’s told you, he has two younger sisters, Eliza and Maggie, though as Eliza corrects you, she’s younger by only ten minutes, as his twin. His sisters-in-law are Hannah and Melissa. Of all of his siblings you’ve met, you know Hannah, Will’s wife, the best, as she’d come up to San Diego when Jake was injured with her husband. In age order, then, you have Henry, Will, Jake, Eliza, and Maggie. Hannah, a statuesque blonde, in addition to being Will’s wife, is mother to the twin terrors currently mashing cookie dough into each others’ mouths and Mama Georgie’s pristine kitchen counters, James and Jordan. Melissa is a mischievous looking red-head with green eyes that puts Jake’s to shame. Standing next to her 6 foot tall husband she’s curvy and diminutive. Her only child, a four month old baby girl named Sarah is the chubbiest, cutest baby you’ve ever met. Rounding out the family in the kitchen is Eliza’s fiancée, Beth.

You’ve got Sarah in your lap, the little girl playing with and gumming up your clean fingers when the entire kitchen seems to go silent. You feel a bit like a deer in headlights when a pair of green eyes seems to impale you from the tall, imposing person standing near Mama Georgie. You can’t even use Sarah as a buffer because Melissa whisks the baby away. So you’re left inexplicably empty-handed as you step forward to stand next to Jake in front of his dad.

“So, son. This is your girlfriend?” Your initial impressions of Jake’s dad just from hearing him through the phone were spot on.

“Yessir.” Jake introduces you to his dad, and his dad to you. Henry Seresin Sr is Jake’s older, more grizzled doppelganger, but one who has had every drop of joy wrung from his soul. His emerald eyes feel cold, like he’s trying to read your soul and maybe rob it from your body.

“Pleased to meet you.” You feel very much like you failed the most important test of your life. He doesn’t sound pleased to meet you at all. You’re more inclined to think he believes you to be akin to a bug squished on the bottom of his shoe. Just as soon as those intimidating green eyes have you in their crosshairs, they move on, transfixing Jake in their gaze.

“So this is what you’re getting up to? Chasing some piece of tail rather than keeping your head in the game? Your mom told me you got injured. Was it because your head was on her instead of on your mission?” Your hackles raise even higher at his words, if that is even possible.

You’re getting angry. Like this man even has an idea of what Jake’s been through. Hearing and knowing, understanding are two different things. But no matter how you swallow or how many words line up on your tongue, your mouth doesn’t work.

Jake just grasps your hand a bit tighter as he stares his father down. The mask you’d seen on his face after Thanksgiving Dinner when his dad had demanded Jake bring you home is back. Coupled with his ramrod straight back and the set to his jaw, you’d think Jake was facing down a particularly odious commanding officer, not his father. Before the tension can escalate any further though, Mama Georgie starts handing out bowls of food. With her Texas Chili in their hands, father and son seem to simmer down.

Before long, the twins have their little faces smeared in sour cream and rich meaty chili streaked across their chins, and that’s the first time you see Jake’s dad smile. He looks at James and Jordan with such naked affection in your eyes that you can understand how a woman as warm and kind as Mama Georgie could fall in love with a man like Henry Seresin. Jake is, rather unsurprisingly, taciturn throughout the meal where he had been goofing around with his brothers less than an hour prior. Jake’s dad doesn’t act like you’re even at the table, seemingly content to ignore you and his youngest son. He converses with Will, Henry, Hannah, Melissa, and his wife in turn, pausing to listen to the twins’ babbling too. Maggie gets her own share of her dad’s attention too. It seems to be only Beth, Eliza, Jake and you who get unilaterally ignored.

From what you can see, it seems to suit Eliza and Beth just fine, but it’s Jake that most of your attention is on. You know how much he craves his dad’s attention, whether he admits it or not, so this has to cut deep. Would things be different if you weren’t here? A part of you isn’t sure if it would be. Jake would be facing his dad’s unnecessary disapproval alone. At least he won’t open his mouth and say the truly cutting things he wants to if there is a stranger in the house? You can hope, anyhow.

The tension dissipates some as in the cover of night, everyone separates and gets loaded into the many pickup trucks waiting in the driveway to undertake what you’re told very excitedly by Mama Georgie, is a Seresin family Christmas tradition. It’s not cold exactly, but you still climb into the bed of the pickup truck Will’s driving easily, accepting the blanket Jake draws over your lap and the thermos Mama Georgie hands you. Jake, of course, settles in next to you, and you have no qualms about cuddling into his arms.

As the cars start moving, Jake tells you how each year the Seresins drive into Austin to view all of the Christmas light displays on December 23rd with hot chocolate in hand. On Christmas Eve, the tree gets finished. When you ask him what that means, he grins and tells you how the tree’s final ornaments are the popcorn garlands the kids make and some tinsel. Each member of the family gets a singular present to open on Christmas Eve. Come Christmas morning, over breakfast, the gifts are opened and everyone meets up again for family dinner out in one of the big barns. That’s when you’ll meet his aunts, uncles, and cousins.

All of a sudden it seems like you’re going to be inundated with a lot of Seresins in not a lot of time. But that’s not what’s bothering you. You curl your hand around Jake’s cheek, gently pulling his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

“What was that about, Jay?” Your voice is a whisper just loud enough to be heard in the scant inches of space between the two of you.

“Dad? At dinner?” Jake’s eyes glint golden in the dim starlight illuminating the way. Will’s truck is last in line and you and Jake are alone in the bed. “That is his way of punishing his kids. He hates that I joined the Navy instead of doing what he wanted.”

You have a sick, foreboding feeling in your stomach as you ask your next question. “Then why is he ignoring Eliza and Beth?”

Jake’s chuckle is equally mirthless. “He hates that Eliza is gay. Dad is just old-fashioned enough to hate it at home. But outwardly he pretends to be all tolerant and shit so none of his soon-to-be constituents take offense. It’s horribly two-faced. Eliza and Dad had a bunch of fights the first time Eliza brought Beth home. For Mama’s sake he tolerates Beth. The only way he knows how to do that is to ignore them.”

You wrap your arms even tighter around Jake, your mind ticking along at a mile a minute. You understand Henry Seresin even less now.

As advertised, the lighting displays are gorgeous and Christmas Eve passes in as much idyllic calm as it can with three children and 12 adults occupying the same house. Things start racing off the rails during the annual Christmas Eve present unwrapping. Thankfully you’d thought ahead and purchased presents for every member of Jake’s family, and it seems like there is a pile of presents under the tree for you as well. The adults are sipping on boozy homemade eggnog as James and Jordan hand out the gifts with Will’s help.

One by one, each person opens their Christmas Eve pre-Santa gift. Jake had picked out your gift to open and he’d graced you with his special soft smile at the sight of his grandfather’s watch restored and ticking in perfect order. Finally, the only person who hasn’t opened a gift is you. In all honesty, you’re not upset at all, holding James in your lap as the little boy had taken a shine to you. Between one second and the next all of the noise dies down. Even James’ babble silences and when you look up, it’s to the sight of Jake, in his goofy Christmas-themed pajamas, on one knee in front of you.

“J-Jay? What are you doing?” You can’t believe your eyes.

“I know we usually open a gift on Christmas Eve, but what I’m asking you might just be the best gift I’ve ever received in my life. My gorgeous girl, you’ve stuck with me through thick and thin. Since the day we met, you’ve had me wrapped around your fingers. I love you so much. Would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

Tears drip down your face as you nod and Jake pushes the band onto your ring finger. He kisses you, soft and sweet, keeping it light, standing there in the living room of his happiest place on earth. What startles the two of you apart is the banging of a door down the hall. When you pull away, the only person missing is his dad. Guess he doesn’t approve then. But you can’t dwell on Jake’s dad. Not when you have a fiancé, a fiancé, to hug and kiss, again, and a room full of his loved ones welcoming you into the family. You go to bed that night a little tipsy and with your heart so full of love for Jake and for his family.

The atmosphere when you wake up on Christmas morning is a little bit different. The living room is awash with the twins’ laughter as they demolish the gift wrapping into shards of brightly colored confetti. All of the adults are sleepily smiling at the boys as they carry gifts to each adult in turn. All of the adults, that is, other than Jake’s dad. The oldest male in the room is glaring gloomily, mustering a smile only when James or Jordan toddles towards their grandfather. For the most part, despite the glares, you enjoy yourself.

It’s when the family gathers for Christmas dinner before the party in the barn that the apple cart topples over in earnest. You bow your head for grace dutifully, though you’re not religious in the slightest. It’s as dishes are being passed back and forth down the long wooden table groaning under the weight of all of the food on it that Jake’s dad opens his mouth again.

“Jacob.” The entire table seems to hush at his words, all conversation snuffed out. That one word has you lying your utensils down, swallowing, taking a sip of water and patting your lips with your napkin. Jake’s tense at your side as he does the same thing.

“Yes, sir?” Jake’s conciliatory, keeping his eyes trained on his plate.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, boy.” Jake’s hands drop to his sides as he stares at his father on command. You place your hand in his, taking comfort in the way his big thumbs run lightly over the emerald embedded in the shining silver now on your left hand.

“Are you thinking this through? I’m sure she’s nice enough, but what makes you think she’s appropriate for a man in your social standing?” Your eyes widen, and you see anger on Mama Georgie’s face for the first time since you met her.

“Appropriate for a man of my social standing?” From that tone alone, you’re bracing for a fight. “I wasn’t aware I had a social standing, Pops.”

You can picture the way Jake’s lips pop as he says those words. But you can’t look away from Jake’s dad. Not now that you know that Jake has picked a fight. A fight he’s determined to win.

“Ridiculous. I thought the Navy was supposed to teach discipline, not show my son how to whore around. Is she knocked up? Is that why you brought that cheap little slut into my house and introduced her to your brothers and sisters? To your niece and nephews?” You can’t even begin to get angry, not when you can sense the entire force of Jake’s anger emanating in waves from his body. His hand is gentle as he holds yours despite his rage.

“What did you say about her?” It’s a hissed out sentence. You don’t know when, but Hannah and the twins are no longer at the table. Neither is baby Sarah. It’s good that the kids are out of the blast radius of this particular fight.

“You heard me, son.” You’ve never heard more condescending words in your entire life.

“I did hear you, Dad.” Jake inhales deep, the sound whooshing out like bellows filled with hot air.

“I wanted to make sure that I heard the right thing. Let’s get one thing clear. I found the love of my life in San Diego. She’s not a whore, she’s not knocked up, though that’ll happen as soon as she lets me put a baby in her. She’s not cheap. My gorgeous girl is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You’re not in the Navy so you have no idea what it does to a relationship to be apart from someone for months, maybe years at a time when you love them. It takes a special person to withstand the deployments, the stress, the injuries, all of it. I found that person and I asked her to marry me. I brought her home because I wanted her to have a support net, people she could rely on when I’m deployed so she’s not alone in a house like a mausoleum all by herself.”

“I’m in my right mind, old man. I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve been thinking about marrying her since the night I met her. There isn’t another woman in the world for me.” When Jake kisses the ring on your finger, you have to hide your smile.

That’s not the only time, either. Jake’s dad is flushed with his anger, his eyes bulging out of his head at the sight of you still sitting by his son.

“Georgia.” His voice is full of rage as he spits out his wife’s name.

“Where did we go wrong? These two,” he growls, gesturing at Jake and Eliza in turn. “Why do they always have to be such fucking embarrassments? You let Jake spend too much time with your dad so the little idiot joined the Navy and brought back a woman who probably couldn’t sit through a fancy dinner without embarrassing the family. And then there’s Eliza.”

At her name, Eliza tenses in entirety, her big green eyes wide as they stare between her father and her brother.

“Our daughter couldn’t even turn out right, huh? If I had my way she would’ve been married to the youngest Johnson boy. He’s perfectly respectable. But no. We let her go to college in New York and she came back with a girlfriend. Disgraces, both of them.”

Jake’s just about to open his mouth in defense of his clearly distraught sister when a chair squeals against the hardwood floor as it is pushed violently away from the table. It’s Henry, glaring at his father.

“Jake, Will, Eliza, Maggie, Mel. We’re leaving. Now.” It doesn’t surprise you at all that all the siblings fall in line.

“Where do you think you’re going?” It’s another painfully tense moment between father and son.

“I’m going to celebrate Christmas with my siblings. My siblings who I love because of who they are, not the political power they’ll bring me.”

He turns to Mama Georgie sitting in shock at the other end of the long, long dinner table. “I’m sorry, Mama. I can’t sit here and hear my siblings and their fiancée’s get insulted like this, not anymore. It’s something I should’ve done months ago, when Eliza first brought Bethie home.”

“Will you at least take some of the food with you?” You’re not sure how Mama Georgie’s keeping her composure even as her eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

“Yeah, Mama. Eliza, can you help Mama pack up enough food for all of us?” You’re not surprised in the slightest to see all of the Seresin siblings jump into action.

“Jake and Beth. Can you grab your bags? The four of you will stay with Will and Hannah or Mel and I. We can figure out who’s staying where in a bit.” Jake nods, standing up before walking to his eldest brother and hugging him.

You follow him up the stairs to the guest bedroom and sit on the bed, packing the few things you’d left out into your suitcase again. Jake’s silent as he walks to and fro, packing his things. You stop him as he grabs a sweater from the foot of the bed, pulling him in between your legs. You know what his dad said made him feel terrible when he can’t even meet your eyes.

“Jay?” You tug on his hands gently. “Can you look at me?”

When his eyes finally meet yours, you’re shocked to see the normally clear, sage pools bloodshot and worried. His brow is furrowed and you pull him until he sits heavily down on the bed next to you.

“What’s going on, Jay?” You rest your head on his shoulder, entwining your arms with his as you cuddle in close.

“Baby, you heard him. You know exactly why I never wanted to bring you home. For all I know, you’re going to return this ring and walk away, just because of my family.” This is what your gorgeous, beautiful, sweet man is worried about?

“I love your family, Jay. Your mom, brothers, sisters, sisters-in-laws, niece and nephews, I love them all. Your family are the people who show you love, who love you unconditionally. They’re your family. Not the man who’s only ever spoken to you like that.” Your voice is soft as you play with his fingers.

“I’m not breaking up with you because of some words somebody I don’t even know says about me. We’ve been through far too much to end because of something like that.” Jake’s chuckle is soft as he pecks your lips gently.

“We really have, haven’t we?” His voice is just as soft as yours as he cups your jaw. “I love you, baby doll. I’m sorry this Christmas got destroyed. I’m sorry our engagement was overshadowed by my dad’s hissy fit.”

“Nothing could ruin how happy I was when you asked me to marry you last night. I love you.” You tug Jake into a sweet kiss before grabbing your bag.

It doesn’t surprise you in the slightest when Jake gently lifts it from your hands as you walk out of the door. It also doesn’t surprise you to see Mama Georgie at the foot of the stairs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. No matter what my husband says, you’re family to me. I can’t wait to see you marry my son. You make him so happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted - my children happy.” You’re tearing up at her words as she hugs you tight. “That’s why I gave Jake the ring my father, his Grandpa Jacob, gave my mother.”

“I hope I’ll see you soon.” You answer Mama Georgie in the affirmative and walk out of the house. It doesn’t surprise you at all to hear the roar of “Henry David Seresin” as you walk out the door, not at all.

You spend the remainder of your time in Texas staying with Henry and Melissa in their cute little cottage a little ways away from Seresin Ranch. It’s refreshing being able to just be yourself. Even better is the view from the front porch you get of holding baby Sarah while watching her dad and uncle work up a sweat cutting firewood. This? This is all you think you could ever want. It’s definitely something you want in your own future. A small baby against your chest and their daddy looking at you like you’re everything he’ll ever need. In one sharp longing moment, you realize that’s all you could ever want with Jake.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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