#I started this at the end of september because I wanted at least one new thing for youma | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1d1195 · 5 days

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Independent

~10.6k words

From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.

Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.

Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.

Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.

Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍

Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.

She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.

Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.

“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.

She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”

Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.

It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.

Which was fine by Harry.

He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.

Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.

She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?

A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”

He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.

Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”

“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.

“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.

He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.

But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.

Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.

“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”

“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.

“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.

Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.

“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”

Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.

Her cheeks turned bright red.

“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”

Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”

The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.

This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.

“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.

“Water’s included.”

“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.

“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.

“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.

“In-unit washer and dryer.”

“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?

“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.

“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”

“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”

“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”

She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.

But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.

True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.

There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”

She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.

“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”

“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”

He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”

That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”

“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”

“Offer stands,” she assured him.

Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.

She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”

“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.

“Oh, I can take—”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.

“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.

“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.

When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”

“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”

She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”

“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”

Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.

Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.

Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?

Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.

No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.

It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.

He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.

But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.

She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”

“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.

Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.

But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.

She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”

“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”

“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”

The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”

She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”

“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.

“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”

He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”

He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”

“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”

“Course.”

They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” she smiled.

“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”

“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”

“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.

“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.

“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.

“Me?”

He chuckled. “Yes, you.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”

“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”

Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.

“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”

“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”

“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”

“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.

“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”

“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.

“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.

“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”

At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.

He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.

Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.

Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.

“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.

It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.

“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.

That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.

“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.

“Lint roller!”

They all called out items and she had every single one.

“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.

Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.

“I get it,” he chuckled.

“If you need it, chances are she has it.”

“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.

Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?

Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.

“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.

“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”

“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”

“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.

“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”

“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”

“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”

“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”

“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.

“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.

He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.

“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.

She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.

“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.

“Thanks, Poppy.”

Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.

Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”

“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”

She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.

Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.

The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.

She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.

After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.

“Are y’cold?” He asked.

She shook her head.

But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.

But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”

She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.

Harry really enjoyed holding her.

At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.

Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.

“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.

Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.

She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”

He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.

She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”

For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.

He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.

It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).

Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).

She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.

He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.

She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?

She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”

It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”

She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.

He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”

When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.

She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”

“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.

She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.

“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”

“Harry—”

“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”

Harry frowned. “So?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”

But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”

“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”

The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”

Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”

The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”

“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”

He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”

It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.

“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”

She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.

Even when she should have asked.

Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.

Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.

When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.

“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.

“Harry,” she protested.

“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”

“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”

“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.

She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.

“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.

“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.

It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.

It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.

Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.

Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.

Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.

Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.

The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”

Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”

“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.

Then, he started reading.

Out loud.

“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.

“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.

“You don’t have to—”

He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.

Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.

Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.

He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.

One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.

Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.

Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.

He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.

“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”

“I can’t.”

“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”

She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.

His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.

Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.

For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.

Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.

Hope bloomed inside him.

She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.

All he did was make her soup.

She deserved so much more.

It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.

“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.

“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.

She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“You haven’t said no.”

"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.

Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.

“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”

She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.

"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.

She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.

As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."

A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.

"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”

Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.

He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.

Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.

It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.

Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.

“Harry?”

He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”

“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”

He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.

He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.

He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.

“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.

Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.

"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.

Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.

"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.

Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.

But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.

“Harry?” Her voice was raw.

“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.

“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.

He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing t’be sorry for.”

"I have issues."

"We can work on them together."

"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.

"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.

She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."

"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.

She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."

Harry nodded. "Well—"

"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."

It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.

Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”

She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.

"What, Poppy?"

"Do you love me already?"

"Of course I do."

She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”

“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.

He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"

“I’m in love with you too.”

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gor3sigil · 1 month

Text

Trans drag performers deserve better.

Okay so since y'all seem interested, here we go.

[This is about MY experience as a “former” transmasc drag king, in my local scene. This isn't representative of the drag scene as a whole because drag is a wide, huge scene with pretty much any type of people in it. I have never done paid gig. I only performed a couple of times before deciding to stop.]

I discovered drag with RuPaul like a lot of people, and for a long time, I only knew about drag queens. It’s when I learned about an initiation to drag king happening in my town that I decided to try it. I did a bit of research before the event took place and that's how I learned that drag king is widely undocumented, compared to drag queen. A bit disheartening but I was excited to do something new and especially to get back in my local queer community after 2 years or so of “no contact” with it because trauma (see my post about my first T4T relationship to understand why).

First surprise when I got there, I was the only transmasc present as an attendee. The organiser and person who teached us is agender and go by he/him, and his at the time SO is a transmasc enby but appart from them, I was the only trans person. Most of the others were cis lesbian women. Makes sense. The initiation weekend went really well and we ended up performing in an open scene at the end. I can't count the amount of times I got misgendered by other kings during this weekend and I have to say, it pissed me off so fucking bad because I was the only one getting consistantly misgendered. But I brushed it off and had a blast.

My drag persona is more of a dragula king, really goth, and I did a lipsync performance on a Black Dresses song. I loved it and had a blast. A year or so later, we decided with other drag kings to do a little group to perform together.

Once again, I'm the only trans person.

And that's when the shitshow kinda happened. From all the drag kings present, I was also the only one who wasn't already part of a collective. So the group we had was composed of people from 2 collectives who would basically cheer each other out at every show, and it's great !! But I wasn't being integrated into the group, and I felt defeated. One of the main reasons why I didn't go to drag shows was because I was FLAT BROKE. I couldn't attend these events as they were always or in a bar so you have to at least buy a drink, or had a fee, and I couldn't afford that.

We started doing rehearsals and I set up a discord server for us all to use and organize the said rehearsals. It soon became apparent that they weren't really serious about this group, that they were more involved in their own collectives and it was HELL to have at least one rehearsal a month. But we had a show scheduled for september, and half of the kings weren't ready, didn't know their texts nor songs. I knew it was going to be bad. Also we were confirmed that the gig was going to actually happen 3 days only before, because the people who said they were going to do the visuals NEVER DID and we had to fumble something quick so the event was promoted very fucking late and we weren't sure we could even afford to do it, because not many tickets were sold.

During the rehearsals I got singled out for everything. My voice was dropping because of the T (I had started 8 months prior) and I tried to do my best with the singing parts but got told a few times that my low voice would sound “weird” amongst the sopranos. Also, one of the solo part a king was going to perform was on a very upbeat music and he said we could join IF WE WANTED.

I said I'd pass since it wasn't my style at all.

And when we got to the venue, the venue didn't have any backstage and I had my solo part just after that, so I couldn't just stand there on stage and do nothing. The others in my group KNEW IT as they had performed in this venue BEFORE but just told me “oh, too bad, improvise something” when they were the same ones who told me that taking part in the number was not mandatory.

Regarding the other artists, man, I hated everything. I got misgendered constantly IN KING LIKE - I'M A DRAG KING FFS. Even by others in my group.

When I corrected another performer, a cis gay dude, he laughed at my FACE and told me “but you're trans aren't you like, against gender or something ?”. As I was pre op and still early in my transition I was basically outing myself everytime I told my pronouns and I got so many cis performers ask me invasive questions about my sex life, or being like “yeah I have a trans friend who goes by X but I knew them as Y so it's Y to me but it's not in a disrespectful way you see”.

So yeah, I didn't have a great night. :)

The cis kings called me “girl” or “sis” because “I'm one of them” even after telling them time and time again that I wasn't comfortable with that.

And after this quite disastrous experience, the same ones who called me “girl” and me got into an argument because they wanted to change a song about forced toxic masculinity which is an INCREDIBLY POWERFUL AND BEAUTIFUL SONG into lyrics to talk about femininity. I said that we could use another song then, because there's so few cis men singers who sing about being forced into toxic masculinity and virility that I found that a bit disrespectful to take this important message and make it about women and femininity. There's plenty of songs about that that we could use.

And now guess what ? I was a MEAN MAN who wanted women to NOT TALK ABOUT THEIR ISSUES because I was a very MANLY DUDE DISGUSTING MALE.

The same people who couldn't gender me correctly and called me “sis” a WEEK BEFORE.

So yeah, I got the fuck out and gave up.

I really wish I can perform again one day, but it'll be in another scene.

So PSA: book drag kings, because they are so underrepresented it's disheartening, RESPECT trans drag performers, don't but bioessentialism in drag for the LOVE OF GOD IT'S DRAG. Like imagine being transphobic as a DRAG PERFORMER. Learn the history. And fucking do better.

468 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 2 months

Text

Inescapable (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is the events that ties in with this thing here :)

Please enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, SMUT, public smut, fingering, grinding, LOTS of dirty talk, daddy kink (cause I'm me), female masturbation, handjob (m & m), ANGST, cheating (reader is in a relationship), mentions of her parents not approving of her talking to the guys, reader also mentions bf parents don't like her, readers bf interviews the guys and vaguely mentions things from season 4 like the deaths and starts a fight with them, boys get jealous and angry when promises are broken, cliffhanger ending (because I can :) ).

Word Count: 8533

"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)

September 1996

The longer you waited for the system to transfer your call to their cellblock the more your nerves continued to build.

You had been corresponding with convicts Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington for almost two months so it wasn’t like this was your first time talking to them but there were so many different factors that made you anxious.

Becoming a lawyer was all you ever wanted to be and you constantly felt like you had to prove yourself since your family was so desperate for you to become anything else. When you were told to pick a case, everyone in your class chose the obvious candidates making your eyes roll especially since there was no challenge in it. So many well-known cases had not only evidence but confessions from the defendant saying that they did the crimes. Manson and Gacy had done interviews constantly incriminating themselves.

Eddie and Steve never once accepted any kind of invitation to do an interview whether it be media or print and they never once changed their stories even in the letters they wrote. A plea deal had been offered for them to plead guilty with Steve serving only 10 years and Eddie with 15 but they declined insisting on their innocence.

The evidence was lack luster at best and it killed you that their lawyer didn’t do a better job at defending them. You genuinely believed them and what they told you. Add in the fact that their demeanors in their writing never conveyed any kind of hostility or rudeness.

Both men were always polite and answered any questions you had. They could be intimidating at times but you thought maybe it was just because they were older than you and stuck in a place they never should have been.

Oddly enough though, you felt safe with them.

“Hey, Y/N?”, a soft voice flowed through your ears.

“Yeah, um, hey. Hi. Is this, um, who is this?”

“I’m Steve and Eddie’s on the phone next to me. The prison has a way for three-way calls but don’t worry. We can pay for those fees.”, the man responds hoping to calm your nerves.

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s good to hear your voice finally.”, Eddie exhales heavily.

Blinking, you hear what sounds like one of them being hit as Steve scolds his friend.

“Stop it. You’re going to scare her.”

“He’s not…I’m not scared. It’s alright, I just…this is all new to me.”

“What? You didn’t expect to be on the phone with convicted killers?”, Eddie replied bluntly making you laugh a little when you heard the other man sigh in frustration. “You’re going to have to get used to it with you wanting to be a lawyer. Unless you want to be lawyer like Steve’s dad.”

“Oh, no thank you. Tax law isn’t exactly stimulating to say the least.”, you giggle.

“Ah, I see you tried to reach out to my father.”

“Um, I did. I hope that’s ok. You didn’t say I couldn’t—”

“No, honey. It’s absolutely fine. I say tried because I imagine he ignored you?”

“He didn’t ignore me exactly. I told him I was a law student…I just left out exactly what type of law I was studying.”, you wince on the other end fearing it may alliant him before sighing in relief when they both laugh. “When I started asking about your case he politely told me to fuck off and your mom didn’t answer my calls.”

“How does one politely tell someone to fuck off?”, Eddie asked.

“He’s got his ways. I’m sorry he was rude, Y/N.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m kind of used to parents talking down to me.”

“Baby? Are you hungry?! Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as your boyfriend called to you in the background immediately silencing the men on the line.

“Uh, no, Derek. I’m not hungry right now but maybe later?” After nodding, he disappears into your shared bedroom. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“No problem. Isn’t it like nine o’clock? You need to eat something, sweetheart.”

“It’s ok, Mr. Mun—Eddie…I had a big lunch.”

We’ve been writing for two months and you still struggle using our names?”, the man laughs. “You start your letters with ‘em!”

“I know. I know but it’s different.”

“Well, let’s shake out those nerves because I have a feeling we’re going to be friends for a while. You’re Y/N. Who are we?”, Steve instructs with a calm tone that makes you blush. “Come on, pretty girl. Who are we?”

“Steve. Steve and Eddie.”

“Good. Very good. Now can you say it a bit more confidently?”

Glancing around you, you make sure your boyfriend isn’t within earshot before sighing and replying, “You’re Eddie and Steve.”

“You have five more minute on this call.”

The automated voice startled you as you listened to them heavily exhale in annoyance.

“Alright, princess. We’ll…we’ll let you go but feel free to call us whenever. Like I said…It was so nice to hear your voice. Compared to all the bullshit we hear in here…it’s a nice reprieve.”

You hear a line disconnect thinking they both suddenly disconnected before Steve’s voice flowed through.

“All of this has been really hard on him, you know?”

“I can’t imagine…”

“But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since we’ve heard a kind voice directed our way especially one as calming as yours… But, yeah, um, Eddie said call whenever but you know—”

“I can’t call after 10:30pm.”

“You got it, hon. Have a good night and we’ll talk to you later.”

“Good night, Steve”

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

December 22, 1996

“Don’t let my uncle forget to give you the present we got you! We went to every store to find the perfect gift!”

You laughed hard at Eddie’s joke as Steve sighed in fake frustration into the phone.

“Ok we didn’t but we did scan the Sears catalogue Wayne brought when he came to see us.”

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Pfft, please. You’re our friend and you said you got us something so sue us.” You softly smiled when you heard Steve’s smile flow through. You imagined this time of year was exceptionally hard for them and wanted to do what you could, growing fond of them after all this time. “Are you still visiting Derek’s parents for Christmas?”

“That is the plan but I’m a bit nervous. This is my first time meeting them and I’m afraid they won’t like me.”

“Sweetheart, have you met you? They’re going to love you!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

This wasn’t the first time another inmate had interrupted their call. They explained to you that while the phones were in a private-ish area, the common area was still nearby. You never told them but you could hear the immediate change in their demeanor when it happened and it killed you. It was as if their old personalities would leak through before prison reminded them where they were.

You wished you could have met the men they were before being incarcerated.

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N. Everyone is a bit amped up with the holidays around the corner. He’s not wrong though. If Derek’s parents don’t like you than fuck them because obviously somethings wrong with them.”

“Steve? You don’t have to always do that… pretend like everything’s ok. Not with me.”

The silence on the other end was heavy but you could hear their steady breathing as they thought about what you were saying.

“I have to. Not just for you but me to. If I don’t downplay it then—”

“We’re reminded that we are actually in a fucking prison we don’t deserve to be in.”, Eddie added breaking your heart.

“I wish there was something I could do.”, you whisper.

“Baby, you have no idea how much you do just by being you. We don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, Eddie. You and Steve don’t deserve the hell you’ve been through. I wish I could at least hug you both.”

Again, both men were silent and the only sound you heard was your boyfriend in your bedroom as he finished packing the last of his things for your trip.

“We wish we could hug you to, honey.”

“Yeah especially with the way your letters smell I always imagine you smell exactly the same…so fucking sweet…just like you.”

Their voices had dropped to a register you had never heard from either man before let alone any man in your lifetime. The sound had your heart fluttering as you licked your lips and exhaled.

“Are you, Y/N?”

“Am I what, Eddie?”

“Are you sweet?”

“You have five more minutes on this call.”

“Baby?! I got everything packed but I’m not sure if I’m missing something!”, your boyfriend shouts making you gasp as you jump.

“Fuck. Um, I have to go. I’ll call you guys when I can ok? Bye!”

Before they even say a word, you hastily hang up the phone.

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

January 12th, 1997

Biting the skin beside your nail, you glance at the other people in the visitor’s center waiting to see other inmates. Some women were dressed in low cut shirts showing off their cleavage making you a bit self-conscious as you adjusted the slightly baggy sweater hanging off your body. This was your first time physically meeting Eddie and Steve and you weren’t sure why but you wanted to make a good impression.

Quickly throwing your sweater to the side, you fixed your hair before straightening the long sleeve shirt underneath that fit a bit better to your form. Not wanting to seem too eager, you chose jeans telling yourself it was also due to the cold weather.

You weren’t sure if you could bring anything but to be honest you weren’t even sure what would be appropriate. When you met Derek’s parents you brought a dessert that no one ate except your boyfriend as his mother constantly stared daggers at you from across the table. When you went to see your parents, you showed up with small gifts that they always seemed to awkwardly thank you for before giving you gifts as well that were things you could never use. Oddly enough the only person to react positively to you showing up with an item was Eddie’s uncle whose eyes lit up when you appeared at his front door with cake you made. You both shared it as he talked to you about holidays at the Munson household and answered some of the questions you had.

What do you bring to people who lost their freedom?

Inmates began slowly entering the room and the sudden sounds of partners and parents sobbing as they embraced them overwhelmed you as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Y/N?”

When you opened your them again you were met with two tall men towering you. You had read about them constantly and seen their pictures numerus time in different place but having them both in front of you now abruptly overloaded your brain as you rose to your feet.

They still physically looked more or less the same than the day they were arrested 10 years ago except Steve had a bit more facial hair and Eddie seemed to have more tattoos on his arms. Under their short sleeve white shirts, you could see their muscular arms and abs, again making you self-conscious as you pulled at the bottom of garment without looking. Steve’s hair was a bit longer but a bit frayed as if he had been running his fingers through it before coming into the room while Eddie’s long hair was pulled back out of his face showing off his soft features.

“Is everything ok? You look scared. Don’t worry, honey, you’re safe in here. No one is going to UMPH—”

Steve’s hands flew up in surprise when you jerked forward and your arms wrapped around his waist. It took him a moment before his own limbs finally circled around you as his cheek rested on top of your head.

“Fuck me… It’s been so long since anyone except Ed has hugged me.”

At the sound of his name, you released the one man to move to the other who without hesitation took you in his embrace and clung to you tightly as his fingers tangled in your hair.

Feeling his hands shake against you, you pulled back into time to hear him clear his throat as he turned away from you to run his palms over his face.

“Sorry, yeah, it’s been a while since anyone has come to see us. Well, except for Wayne.”

Their eyes never leave you as you take a seat and they follow you down making sure to keep their distance until you felt more comfortable.

“I like Wayne. He’s been incredibly kind to me since I met him. Not that everyone else hasn’t…just hard to get a hold of people. Especially Nancy Wheeler and Dustin Henderson since they no longer live in Hawkins.” Shifting your gaze their way, you notice them staring at you with small smiles on their faces. “I’m sorry. I’m, um, babbling a bit. I’m just a little nervous I guess. Plus, you’re not what I was expecting…aaaaand I’m doing it again. Ok.”

Eddie’s hand gently reaches out to grasp your forearm that was resting on the table.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“What do you mean by ‘not what you were expecting’?”, Steve smirks. “Were you thinking orange jumpsuits and tattoos on our faces?”

“No.”, you giggle. “I don’t know. I guess when you’re only familiar with pictures…seeing someone in person…”

“Yeah, we know the feeling.”, the long-haired man beams your way. “I was right by the way. You smell intoxicating.”

***

February 10th, 1997

You smile as both men continue to laugh at joke Eddie had made while they continue to nibble on the food you brought them.

“I’m surprised they let you bring this in. Did you drug them with your own set of like pot brownies or—”

“Shhhh!”, you giggle as your hand reaches up to silence the metalhead who casually tilts back and captures it with his own making a silent mental note that you don’t pull away. “The guards here actually aren’t too bad. At first I was afraid to ask but when I did they told me it was ok to bring desserts but they have to inspect it, of course, and then it can’t be in like any glass.”

“And you said you brought this to Derek’s parents and they didn’t like it? I think these brownies are delicious.”, Steve grinned as he sucked some of the remaining chocolate off his thumb.

“It’s not that they didn’t like it, they just don’t like me.” As you nervously chuckle and glance towards the window, Eddie’s own thumb caresses your skin comfortingly as the other man slides a bit closer to you when he hears the change in your voice. “Before me, Derek was dating this particular girl that his family found more fitting. Kind of like your parents Steve, his are high society and they’ve told him countless times that I’m ‘not a good fit’.”

“The fuck does that mean? You’re perfect.”

“Naw, Ed. Not to the ‘Hawkins Elite’.”, Steve sighs. “My dad was the same. Perfect to them had a particular meaning. It’s fucking stupid because you are an amazing woman.”

Your eyes lock with his as you thank them; his gorgeous honey irises burning into yours. When you notice Eddie is taking you in as well, you laugh hoping to break the tension that had suddenly built as you pulled your hand out of his grasp.

“It’s…It’s not a big deal. He made sure that night to show me how appreciated I am on the dining room table so.” Your face promptly flushes with embarrassment as you try to hide behind your palms. “Why the fuck did I just say that?”

When you finally found the confidence to look their way, you noticed they were still staring at you but something else had replaced the earlier look in their eyes. Was that…jealousy?

“Is that the kind of thing that gets you off? Doing something you shouldn’t?”

Trying to brush it off (and ignore the sexy sound of the husky drop in Eddie’s voice), you smirked as you lazily shrugged.

“Isn’t everyone to an extent?”

“Hm…but not everyone is you.”

“Steve—”

“Y/N.” At the sound of your name, you closed your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, you lick your lips and lean forward till your forehead lands on his.

“This is wrong.”

“You like that though don’t you, pretty girl?” His humid breath warms your tongue as you subtly open your mouth to contain the strong need to melt into the soft sound of his voice. “I bet if I put my hand between your legs that little pussy would be dripping.”

Closing the distance, his lips mingle gently with yours as his large palm cups your cheek. You can feel in his kiss that he’s holding back and the flutters in your stomach desperately want more. Another set of hands takes hold of your face and you’re met with another set of lips that taste like strong nicotine and sin.

“Fuck, you taste so good. Does he appreciate you, sweetheart? You deserve to be worshipped.”

“Eddie…I—”

“Munson! Harrington! Why don’t you share, huh?!”, another inmate yelled pulling you back into the reality of your situation.

“Fuck off!”, the metalhead shouted immediately rising to his feet when the other prisoner did the same.

“Ok, ok, ok.”, Steve tried to deescalate as he quickly stood up and placed himself between both men. “Come on now, guys. Let’s just focus on our own visitors ok?”

Eddie and the man continued to stare each other down before turning back towards their table but to both their dismay you were gone.

***

February 16th, 1997

“Hey, honey. Is everything alright? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sniffled into your phone as you pulled your knees to your chin.

“Yeah, I’m alright, Steve. I, um, I just got into a fight with Derek and he stormed out.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You can talk to us about it if you want to. We’re here for you.”, Eddie coos hating that he can’t just pull you to his chest and comfort you.

“He thinks…I’m too invested in you two. That I spend too much time talking to you and visiting. He…he wants me to stop talking to you. Maybe—Maybe I should.”

“If…if that’s what you want, baby girl. We don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“Do you WANT to stop seeing us?”

“No.”, you sobbed making the metalhead’s heart burst when you didn’t hesitate. “I like talking to you. You both make me feel safe.”

“You know we’d never hurt you, Y/N. Not unless you wanted us to that is.”

When you laughed at his statement both men let out a sigh of relief.

“What else do we make you feel, pretty girl? Besides safe.”, Steve asked. When you didn’t immediately respond, he took over as he lowered his voice. “Come on, baby. Tell us. Do we make you feel appreciated? Loved? Needed?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Do we give you tingles all over your body?”

“Yes. Fucking everywhere.”, you chuckled making the man smile.

“Even between those sexy legs?”, Eddie adds, biting his lip when he hears your heavy breath. “Can you do us a favor, princess, and run those soft hands between your pussy? Don’t put them inside you though. Just tell us how wet you are.”

You don’t know why but as the brain fog takes over you do what they ask and slid your fingers between your folds making a loud squelching noise as the pads graze your clit.

“F-Fuck…I’m—I’m soaked. I like the way you two talk to me.”

“Hm. Never had a man tell you what he wants? Trust us, honey. We fucking dream about how good our cocks would feel buried inside you. If we were free you’d never keep us off you.”, Steve groans feeling himself stiffen in his pants. “We know you like doing things you’re not supposed to. Maybe we’d show up at your school and fuck you in the library while you try to keep from screaming about how you can feel me in your stomach.”

“Steve…please…”

“Go ahead, Y/N. Push two of your fingers in that tight little cunt and pretend it’s you fully seated on top on me in the back of your class as you try to pay attention. At most you can warm my cock the entire time until everyone leaves. I bet you’d like that, sweetheart, huh?”

“Mmm—yes, Eddie, I’d like that.”, you pant as you roll your hips.

“Jesus Christ, I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, baby, please.”

“Oh God—fuck—I’m gonna…”

You moan both their names repeatedly as the coil snaps and you ride out your high as they listen to your heavy breaths.

“Such a good girl. You alright, honey?”

“Yeah… I just…I wish I could hold you.”

“We know, baby. Fuck do we know especially with what you’ve been through tonight but we’re going to see you really soon right?”

“In a few days, yeah, but I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s ok.”

“Of course, princess. You can call us whenever you need to.”

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

April 19th, 1997

Eddie’s palm held down the corner of your textbook as the wind blew around you.

Since it wasn’t as cold outside today you were able to visit with them outside near the courtyard at a picnic table under a nearby tree. You told them you were studying for an exam and they insisted you bring your materials thinking they could be of more help.

“I mean we were punished by the criminal judicial system so you’d think we’d know some of this stuff.”, Steve chuckles.

“I know a lot of it but when it comes to tests I struggle to retain any of it. It’s like I just panic sometimes.”

“I always had trouble focusing.”, the metalhead adds. “That’s why I failed so much. Oddly enough the GED wasn’t as difficult.”

“When you get out would you want to go to college?”

“Oh, sweetheart. What school would take me when I get out of here?”

“Eddie…”

“He’s got a point, babe. I tried so hard to get into a university after I graduated and even with my sports record no one wanted me. I doubt a prison record will make that easier.”

“That makes me so angry.”, you growl. “You two didn’t do anything wrong. When is your next appeal?”

“Mine is in a month and his is in three.”, Steve sighed. “Let’s not talk about that right now. How are you, Y/N? Beside the tests and school, I mean.”

“Everything’s ok. My relationship with Derek has been a bit strained. He went with me to visit my dad and my father just grilled him the moment he walked in. To remove the focus off of him, he told him that I’ve been visiting you two. That, um, that didn’t go so well.”

“What happened?”

“He just…he doesn’t approve.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, what did he say?”, Eddie soothed as he shifted his body closer to yours.

“He’s afraid you’re going to kill me like that girl.”, you murmured, panicking slightly when you see the metalhead’s jaw tighten. “You know I’m not afraid of you right? I know you’d never hurt me like that.”

“We know, baby. We know.”, Steve coos as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I wish I could do something to help.”, you reply in that small voice that drives them crazy.

After quickly taking a look around, he glances down at your skirt and without warning subtly lifts your body as he adjusts it so its further up your thighs. Grasping your leg, Steve lifts it over his own and Eddie slides over till he’s pressed up to your opposite side.

“Keep looking at your notebooks, honey. Don’t lift those pretty eyes from the paper unless we say ok?”

“Ok.”, you answer breathlessly as excited nerves fill your tummy.

“Good girl.”, Steve praises as he kisses your cheek and you feel his palm ghost up your skin slowly between your legs. “Fuck me. Are you not wearing panties?”, he whispers making you clench at the needy sound.

“No…I was kind of hoping…”

“Hoping what? That we’d touch you?”

“Such a bad little girl.”, Eddie teases as he reaches for your hand closest to him and kisses the back before placing it on the bulge in his blue sweatpants. “Just enjoy his fingers, Y/N. We can use you to take care of ourselves.”

“Oh my—”

“Shhhh! You have to be quiet, baby. Don’t want to get caught now do we?”, Steve smirks as you passionately shake your head. As he guides his index between your folds, your free arm wraps around his as you rest your cheek on his bicep. “Did you like that? Eddie saying that we’d use you… Oh Munson, she definitely did.”, he exhales as he wiggles and presses his finger against your clit.

At the sound of you trying to hide your moan in his arm, Steve tugs your leg further up his own and you suddenly feel his stiff cock through his pants rubbing against your calf. To your left Eddie coughs to hide a grunt that wanted to break free as he placed his hand on top of yours and maneuvered it so you were stroking him over his clothes.

They both would give anything to feel your body directly on theirs but they knew their window of time was short and unfortunately where they were there was no way to discreetly pull down their pants.

“S-Steve…pleeeeeeeeease…”

Eddie’s nose smushes against your cheek just as his friend guides two of his fingers into your core.

“We’re gonna get in trouble, Y/N, if you can’t control yourself.”, he growls as he presses your palm harder against him. “Fuck, your hand feels so fucking good.”, Eddie groans as he kisses your neck.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight.”, Steve whispers. “I would give anything to—mmph—feel your pussy squeeze my dick. We’re going to ruin you, little one.”

Clinging tightly to his arm, you pressed your face into him as you muffled the screams that wanted to be heard.

“Cum, pretty girl. That’s it, baby.”, Eddie urged as the coil in your belly snapped. “Good girl. Fuck.”

After sucking your slick off his index, Steve offered his hand to his friend who without hesitation licked the rest of his middle finger.

“I knew it. I knew you tasted fucking sweet, little girl.”, he grunted as his other palm roughly grabbed your wrist, holding your hand still as Eddie rolled his hips a couple more times before shuddering a bit as he came.

Utilizing both his hands now, Steve pressed your leg harder to his crotch, grinding as subtly as he could till he grunted and his face scrunched as he soon followed.

Calloused fingers tenderly lift your head and you softly smile when the metalhead’s lips land on yours.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Giggling, you rub your face into his neck as you inhale his smell of soap and cigarettes.

“I think that’s the orgasm talking.”

With a firmer grasp, Eddie tilts your chin so his eyes lock with your own.

“I’m serious. I love you, sweetheart, and I think you love us to.”

As you turn to face Steve, he gently places your leg back down and helps you adjust your outfit.

“I love you to, honey…very much. You don’t have to say it back or anything. We know that loving us…carries a lot of weight.”

The guards scream out into the yard that visiting hours were about to end and both boys help you gather your books as they walk you back inside. Just like every time before their eyes remain on you not wanting to look away till you’re completely out of sight.

Pausing halfway out the door, you swivel your body their way and flash them the most beautiful smile either boy had ever seen.

“I love you both to.”

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

May 7th, 1997

“Please be nice to them. They aren’t what people say in the papers.”

“I certainly hope not especially since you talk to them 24/7.”, Derek sassed making you roll your eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. Look, I promise I’ll be good.”

When you don’t say anything, your boyfriend wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you to him, smiling when his lips attach to yours.

The sound of a throat clearing startled you as a guard lingered in the doorframe with Eddie and Steve in tow. The pain that lingered in their eyes told you they caught your kiss and it killed you.

“Alright Miss Y/L/N, you and your friend—”

“Boyfriend.”, Derek corrected.

The officer huffed at the interruption as Steve sarcastically laughed under his breath.

“You and your boyfriend have this room for as long as you need. We usually use it for interviews for the privacy and if you need anything I’ll be right outside.”

“Thank you, Bobby.”, you grinned politely and the officer nodded his head in return before stepping back outside.

“Oh, first name basis with the guards. Some people would consider that a red flag, babe.”

“To be fair, her father is a cop so…”, Eddie countered as they both took a seat in front of the camera.

“He IS Mr. Munson but, to be fair, this isn’t exactly his jurisdiction is it?”

As you shakily sigh and your eyes close, you feel shoes lightly tap your shin and when you open your eyes again you are met with their comforting expressions.

“All right, boys, the camera is now rolling. Are you ready to begin?”

Both their faces twitch as your boyfriend’s flippant tone as he takes a seat beside you across from them.

“Yeah, kid. We’re ready when you are.”

At Steve’s equally annoyed response, you felt your body tense as you immediately began regretting your decision. The sparing match was about to begin and you were just now aware this wouldn’t be an interview but a fight for dominance like animals in the wild.

“Perfect! So, Steven Harrington and Edward Munson, you were charged for murder in the deaths of some Hawkins student’s including Chrissy Cunningham who of course the entire country now knows thanks to people in the town spreading awareness and the foundation they created in her name a few years ago. So far, you both have served 11 years of your 25-year sentence… what has that been like?”

“Well, Derek, it’s been no picnic but we have utilized the time wisely. We read and exercise out in the yard. I’ve been reading up on law and we both participate in the group therapy options provided. Eddie was able to get his GED and graduate from high school.”

“Aw that’s nice. It only took a prison sentence for you to finally finish.”, he smiles showing all of his teeth in that sarcastic manner you know very well. “Now, in your own words, can you tell me what happened to those kids that died in 1986?”

Your eyes remained zeroed in on them as they explained what they had told to you and a courtroom numerous times. Someone else killed them and circumstantial evidence made it seem like it was Eddie while a vendetta made it seem like Steve was an accomplice.

“Were you surprised, Steven, when Hawkins Lap retracted their statements in regard to certain Hawkins events including their involvement of the death of Barbara Holland?”

Steve’s eyes fluttered as he tried to hold back the feeling that bubbled in his chest.

“Yeah, I was.”

“I imagine they did that since Eddie’s lawyer insisted on using them as a defense in this case. There’s only so much a company will allow themselves to be blamed for. What did happen with Miss Holland?”

“Derek…”, you warned.

“She was best friends with Nancy Wheeler who you were dating at the time.”

“Derek.”

“Is that why Miss Wheeler broke up with you about a year later? Or excuse me. She goes by Mrs. Byers now.”

“DEREK!”

“Y/N! You’re not their fucking lawyer so stop interrupting!”

“Don’t talk to her like that.”, Eddie growled as he sat up straighter.

“Pfft or what? You’ll kill me to?”, Derek replied smarmily as he straightened as well. “Whether you like it or not, you two are criminals and apparently there was at least enough evidence for a jury to convict you BOTH of that. It honestly amazes me that my girlfriend can’t accept that fact.”

“She’s going to be a phenomenal lawyer especially since she doesn’t just look at what’s on the surface unlike everyone else in the town.”, Steve countered making you blush as a small smirk painted your lips.

“Oh on the surface huh? So, Mr. Munson, you didn’t run after Chrissy was killed? Whether it be because you murdered her or someone else did, you ran and left her behind for your uncle to find, you pathetic freak.”

Eddie rose to his feet as his fists clenched but Steve hastily stopped him as he tried to calm him down.

“When people go missing you just happen to be around, Mr. Harrington? Add in the fact that you both have similar scars that tells anyone with eyes that whatever you were involved in you did it together.”

“This is over, Derek. You promised me—”

“No, you know what’s over? This little infatuation between you and my girlfriend.”, the man rumbles as he squares his shoulders and faces them. “The letters and phone calls stop today as well as the fucking visitation.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No.”, Eddie repeated. “We love her and we aren’t letting her go that easy.”

“Oh please! What can you two offer her?! You still have another 14 years in here and then what? Your lives will just be smooth sailing from there?! You’ve only known here for one year and I’ve been with her for three! Trust me, guys, she needs a real man. Someone who can take care of her in every way a man should.”

“Oh yeah, little boy? Is that why when you fuck her she’s thinking about us?”

The room went quiet for a few moments before Derek sarcastically chuckled and shifted his gaze toward you.

“You want them so badly? Fine. I can’t wait to see your face on the fucking news after they tear you apart. At least I can get a good story out of it. Better than anything else you’ve given me this past year, you fucking whore.”

You jumped, pressing your back against the wall as Steve abruptly flipped the table over with his hand before Eddie charged at the boy and tackled him to the floor. As they began to fight each other, guards ran in to separate them, pinning both men to the floor as they held Derek back against the wall.

Neither man look your way as officers tugged them to their feet and dragged them out of the room.

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

September 27th, 1997

Steve bounces his leg as they wait by the phone for your call to finally come through. You said you’d call last night but you didn’t and it killed them. They understood you were busy but you made promises to them that they desperately held on to because there was very little to hope for in their current predicament.

“This really pisses me off, Harrington.”

“What are we going to do about it, Munson? She’s got school and her job—”

“Oh, I see. So her failing to keep her promises is only ok because we’re locked up. Got it.”

“Calm down, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me to--! Don’t tell me to be calm. If I was free I’d have punished her already but…”

After coming to prison, Steve had a lot more time to get to know who Eddie Munson was and came to find out that they had a lot in common. Their dads were assholes, their moms weren’t present, and they seemed to have a common attraction to being the dominant partner. On nights when he was desperate and incredibly lonely, Steve would sit beside his friend and elaborate about fantasies he had, had in his head since he hit puberty.

Both men continued to look at the brick wall in front of them as they continued stroking the other’s cock.

“I just want to push a beautiful girl onto her knees and fuck her gorgeous face a-as she gags around my dick. I want to hold her down against the m-m-mattress and stuff myself so deep inside her till can’t walk.”

“Mmph—that kind of intimacy is…is fucking heaven. To have a woman submit like that…fuck… have you e-ever punished a brat before?” Eddie smiles when Steve shakes his head. “Fuck, man. It’s on a whole—fuck, I’m gonna cum—a whole other level.”

After thrusting his hips upwards, his release hit his friend’s hand but what surprised him was when Steve grabbed the back of his neck and pushes the man’s head onto his leaking cock. The metalhead doesn’t protest, bobbing at a quick pace as the back of his friend’s palm guides him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s it, baby. Take it. Take all of Daddy’s cum down that sexy fucking throat.”

As soon as Steve had given him everything he had, Eddie patted the man’s thigh before climbing the little latter to his top bunk.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“You know when I talk about this stuff I mean…to like… a partner I’m in love with who consents to it. Like…I would never…hurt someone…”

“I know, Steven.”, the other man chuckles as he places his arms behind his head to stare at the bland ceiling.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t cross a line tonight right?”

“No, Steven, you didn’t.”

“Good because, um, you’re my best friend and you’re, um, kinda the only thing keeping me sane in here. Not just because of the…but because…I trust you.” Steve rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes as he heavily sighed. “Good night, Eddie.”

The mattress above him shifts slightly until he heard the light sound of socked feet hit the floor. An arm suddenly wraps around him pulling him back into an equally broad chest and another limb slides under his pillow under his head as calloused fingers looped through his.

“Good night, Steve.”

They never told you about any of that because honestly that was none of your business. To them, it was survival and both men trusted each other more than anyone else. They had been through so much and knew truths that no one else did. This was sacred and special to them and they were terrified of people turning it into something dirty.

Not that you ever would or mock them in any kind of way but they just weren’t ready to reveal that part of them to you and were pretty sure they never would.

“We’ve never gone that far with her. I mean she said she likes it rough and we’ve said some things but we haven’t truly set up the dynamic. How do we even do that in here?”, Steve sighed.

“Add in the fact that as soon as she calls us Daddy or Sir we’re going to want to fuck her which we can’t.”

Both men chuckle as a sad sigh leaves their chest.

“Can’t we?” At Steve’s words, Eddie’s eyes flicked his way as he leaned against the wall behind him. “I mean a ton of the prisoners here have contraband brought in. There has to be a guard or two here who doesn’t mind bending the rules for the right price.”

“Steve Harrington, you’re playing with fire.”

“I know but—“

“Harrington! Munson! Call coming through for you!”

Both mean exchanged a glance before picking up their separate lines.

“Y/N?”

“Hey! I’m so sorry. I know I said I’d call an hour ago but I fell asleep. I cut back some of my hours but still. These classes are so difficult.”

“We were really worried about you. We get worried when you don’t call and you missed our last visit, sweetheart.”

“I know. I’m sorry. This will never happen again. I promise!”

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

October 9th, 1997

Their demeanors were completely different this time than the many other times you had come to see them and you knew why.

It was so hard to keep up with your school and work schedule as well as keep constant contact with two men who had a set schedule of their own set up by the prison. You were doing everything you could but you could tell from their fire filled expressions it wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry.”, you reiterated as they continued to glare at the table in front of them. “I really am. I’m doing my best to—”

“It’s not enough.”, Steve growled making you blink at the audacity.

“I’m…I’m not doing this on purpose. I told you guys junior year was going to be a bit more demanding but I’d do everything I could—”

“You do everything you can yet you still make promises and don’t follow through.”

“I’m sorry I’m fucking busy, Eddie! I don’t know what else you want from me!”

Fingers dig into your bicep as the metalhead yanks you till your face is inches from his.

“Lower your fucking voice, little girl.”

The action startles you for a second before your eyes glare back at him as your teeth clench.

“You’re hurting me.”

As you yank your arm from his grasp, you can’t help but sigh as you see a slight glimmer of pain flash through theirs. They really did miss you and hate being away from you but unfortunately due to the circumstances they had zero control of the situation.

“I really am trying to cut down some of the stress so I can call and see you both more. Like I said, I cut back on my hours at work and this kid in my class offered to help tutor me. He’s one of the top students in my year so I really think he can help me.”

“He?” Your head tilts at Steve’s question as both their energies shift into something new that both frightened and turned you on. “Well, that’s nice to know, Munson. First she’s working at a bar till two in the fucking morning with drunk men fucking flirting and eye fucking her and now she has a male tutor she’ll be spending her time with! No wonder we haven’t heard from her. Little whore as all she needs at home!”

Your mouth fell open as he shouted at you, feeling hurt before the anger took over. Rising to your feet, you grab your bag but as you start to walk away, Eddie grabs your wrist.

“We are not done talking, Y/N. We’ve put up with the disrespect for the past few months because we know you’re going through a lot but missing calls, visits, and now this? No.”

“Let me go now.”

Without releasing you, they both rose to their feet and crowded your space till Steve’s nose was touching yours and Eddie’s lips were hovering near your shoulder.

“You’re ours, Y/N.” Steve’s eyes scan your face as your breathing stutters at his low gravelly tone. “And you will listen, little girl.”

“I’m NOT a little girl.”, you grumble back.

“Then stop acting like one.”, Eddie adds. “Now, be a good LITTLE girl and listen to what Daddy says. Sit. Down.”

The smirk that dons his friend’s face at the title has your pussy clenching as his eyes remain locked on yours. It feels like centuries before you finally collect your bearings and shake the fog that had begun to cloud your brain.

“Fuck you both.”

After shoving Steve’s chest hard, you quickly powerwalk out of the visitor’s room.

***

October 12th, 1997

You woke up with a splitting headache in a room you didn’t recognize with someone’s arms wrapped around you a bit too tightly. Prying out of the boy’s grasp, you throw on a nearby shirt and tiptoe to the bathroom.

Your eyes were still heavy from all the tears you had cried these past few days. You missed Eddie and Steve terribly but you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out again. You couldn’t believe their sudden change in behavior and how they spoke to you. Had the signs always been there and you just never noticed?

They had admitted once that they weren’t jealous of Derek because they cheekily declared that “that little boy can’t make you feel like we do.” Why were they so angry about your tutor and your job? Maybe it was because school and the bar took up a lot of time whereas Derek really didn’t. Because of his own classes he was always coming and going and whenever he was present he always seemed distracted.

To be fair, you did make promises you struggled to keep but it’s because you were so excited to finally talk to them you genuinely planned to go see them. You would literally count the minutes till your classes were done, promptly run home to shower and be ready by the time you told them but as soon as your head hit the pillow as you waited, you would pass out.

Maybe you just needed to find something you could do on campus so you weren’t up so late at work. Yeah it would be a bit of pay cut but you could make it work.

When it came to their attitudes, you hoped you could talk to them and tell you how it made you feel. How did it make you feel? Belittled, angry, annoyed, hurt, degraded…aroused… You had never experienced the brain fog with anyone else other than them. The headspace just seemed to come naturally when you were around them or listening to them talk.

Even if it was them just listening to you chat about your day, you felt that giddy feeling dance through your body down to core. Any time they praised you especially after doing something you knew you shouldn’t be doing; you felt a high like no other. You hadn’t told them but you had had many dreams of them suddenly appearing somewhere you were like class or the bar and having them fuck you roughly as they spanked you, pulled your hair, and held you down as they made you theirs.

Your favorites were the ones where they were in your bed and had you tied to the headboard as both took their time with you as you begged and pleaded with them to make you cum. Your lips would ghost their own as their rough hands roamed your body and left bruises you would welcome the next morning. Their eyes would never leave yours as they took from you they wanted and you would repeatedly moan, “Daddy, please.”

Eddie mentioned the title during your last visit and from Steve’s expression you knew he enjoyed it as much as you did but they had hurt you so badly.

You sigh as you exit the bathroom and quietly grab your pants.

I’ll give them a few more days to cool off and then I’ll go visit them so we can talk.

As you slide on your shoes, your eyes shifted towards the Polaroid camera resting on the bedside table.

Fuck me. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid with that thing last night.

***

October 13th, 1997

Eddie growls loudly as he tears up your letter and throws it in the trash can nearby while Steve continues to stare at the picture of you allowing this boy to kiss what was theirs.

“Give me that, Steven. I’m going to fucking burn it—”

“No… No. She’s playing the game, Ed. She made this move because she thinks we can’t do anything about it.”

“Because we can’t. UGH! Maybe we jumped too quickly, man. It just fucking hurt us because we don’t get to see her everyday so when she says she’ll call and she doesn’t… “

“Yeah…” Steve taps his fingers against his knee while Eddie takes another drag of his cigarette. “Maybe it’s time to have a talk with her. Show her how much we do care and how much it breaks our hearts when she breaks a promise.”

“She won’t answer out calls or letters.”

“Then we should go to her.”

The metalhead blinks as he nervously chuckles before his friend’s straight face meets his.

“Nope. Nope. Nuh huh.” As the man begins to walk away, Steve runs after him and tugs on his arm to stop him. “Do you know how much trouble we can get in for even having this conversation? You talk to one wrong person, Steven, and we could be stuck here for another 10 fucking years.”

“What if I found the right person?”

“I…what…how?”

“How much money do you have?”

***

October 31, 1997

You faked a smile as you handed your cash to the cashier and grabbed your bags of candy as you headed for your car. Tonight, you were planning on a night in with some of your friends while handing out treats to some of the neighborhood kids.

Truth be told, you didn’t want to do anything except curl up in bed and eat the chocolate you bought. You had tried calling the prison a few times but they informed you that neither inmate was accepting calls or visitors at this time. You sent a few letters but hadn’t received anything back as of yet.

You missed Eddie and Steve so much and it killed you to not be able to speak to them.

After pulling into your driveway, you hastily checked your mail before running inside to get everything together.

Once your hair was styled and you slid on your red spaghetti strap dress to make you look like Cher in Clueless, you take a seat on your couch as you wait for your friends to arrive.

Leaning forward, you decide to sift through the mail pausing suddenly as all the other letters fall to the floor. The envelope was marked from them like all the others and your heart did flips as you hugged the paper to you.

As you tore the paper open, you half expected to see a lengthy note detailing how much they missed you to and when they’d want to meet with you so you could finally talk. Your stomach dropped as you read and reread the only two sentences written on the single page they sent.

“Trick or treat, little girl.

See you tonight.

--Steve & Eddie”

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

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon

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cepheustarot · 24 days

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What awaits you in September?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: You have probably been experiencing feelings and severe stress lately, as a new stage or a new period begins in your life, perhaps you will have to move to a place unfamiliar to you, someone may be waiting for exam results, someone will have an interview for a new workplace, someone may be waiting for an important answer from a certain person is waiting for news about a situation that has been continuing on for a long time and everything like that. I want to please you with the fact that soon your experiences will end and in their place will come a strong relief, you will get the result you wanted, the answer you have been waiting for a long time, and if you have worked hard on something important to you, then your efforts will bear fruit. The beginning of September will finally be the period when your life will regain balance and harmony, you will again begin to feel a surge of strength and footing. The cards recommend enjoying this period to the fullest, devoting time to yourself, giving yourself time to fully recover. The beginning of September is also good for those who have long thought about starting to realize their plans and desires, but could not find the strength or time. The main thing is not to overdo it, do everything based on your condition, do not forget to rest, because now it is a priority. The main thing is your comfort.

In September, you will also meet new faces in your life. You may feel very shy and excited about upcoming acquaintances, but the cards recommend that you relax and behave naturally. Your social circle will be filled with good people, very attentive and caring, they will support you during periods when you feel sad and you need support. These people are also very open, communication will be established between you quite easily and quickly, there is a high chance of becoming close friends.

Many of you are going to work hard or study this month, you are full of enthusiasm and ambition, you have probably already set yourself several tasks and goals that you want to accomplish in the near future. Perhaps some of you have set yourself the task of becoming a better person, making a glow-up and changing a lot not only externally, but also internally. There is a risk that in the pursuit of achieving the ideal, you will greatly overdo it and face unpleasant consequences for yourself, at least with burnout and apathy. So the cards remind you again to take care of yourself and act to the best of your ability and strength. Remember that changes come gradually, there is no need to hurry.

Pile 2: In early September teamwork will be important for you. This may apply not only to the work or study area, but also to the family area. Some will have to work on a specific project or work together in order to get everything done by the deadline. The main thing to remember is that you do not need to take on a lot of yourself, it will be appropriate to delegate your responsibilities and rely on the help of other people! This way you can achieve a better result. If we are not talking about work / study, then perhaps you and your family will seriously consider a matter that needs to be approached responsibly, for example, you are planning to repair a house or open a family business (anything can happen here, I'm just giving examples). Based on this, you and your family will really approach this responsibly, plan a budget, discuss your wishes, discuss whether certain things that you would like to buy will be practical and everything in a similar spirit. In any case, the beginning of the month will be filled with discussion with other people and immersion in teamwork.

Also this month, you may expect some kind of deadlock in your relationship with a loved one (it may be your partner or best friend or family member), a conflict situation will occur between you and it will be difficult for one of you to compromise, or none of the proposed solutions to the problem will suit you and then it will be formed this is the dead end. The two of you will worry, you may even distance yourself from each other for a while, you may feel lost, not know what to do. But all conflict and difficult situations not only indicate changes in personal relationships, but also stimulate personal growth, strengthen the inner core. Whatever the outcome of this situation, the most important thing is that you will be able to discover something new that will help you in the future (alternatively, you will feel greatly relieved after this situation, become more open and sincere in expressing your feelings, or your views and some priorities will change, this is no less important and valuable).

The event at the end of September is closely related to what happened at the beginning of the month, namely, you may encounter unforeseen circumstances, force majeure may occur, and this will take you and your colleagues/your loved ones by surprise, which will add even more excitement and stress. The situation between you and other people can become tense, everyone will be on edge and may be angry/annoyed at someone, but most importantly, do not give up what you started halfway. I hasten to please you that everything will end well, you will get the results you need, as you have put a lot of effort into it.

Pile 3: For some, a meeting with old acquaintances/friends will be relevant at the beginning of the month, some of you may also return to your hometown or go to a place that you often visited as a child or teenager. But here the main thing is a kind of reunion with the past. You will feel not only pleasant nostalgia, but also a surge of vitality, your mood will noticeably lift, vitality will increase after this event. You will feel again as if you are living through those days that brought you joy and left pleasant memories in your memory. There is also a chance that a person who was once dear to you and with whom you had a close relationship before will write to you. A dialogue will start between you and there is a high probability that you will start communicating again the same way as before.

This month, the cards warn you about possible financial losses associated with fraud and manipulation, deception by strangers. Moreover, in order not to lose even more of your accumulated money, you will be required to take quick and decisive action, as well as promptly respond to the problem that has arisen. The cards also recommend staying vigilant and attentive, treat strangers with caution and a certain distrust in order to avoid possible problems or at least minimize your losses.

The cards also warn that you may over-idealize the person you like or have recently started dating. This is natural, since you may be going through a period of falling in love, when you still do not notice the flaws in each other and enjoy the time spent together, however, be careful, as you may not notice red flags. This person can also promise you a lot of things, but in fact does not fulfill his promises, they can deceive you or omit some details, give incomplete information about himself. There is a risk of entering into a dependent relationship, so the cards recommend immediately noticing the moments that happened between you and that made you uncomfortable, caused you doubts or made you worry.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 💕

#tarot #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #pac #tarot reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick an image

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candysims4 · 1 year

Text

NOSTALGIA SET

I'm super happy to share my last release of this month with you. It's a set of six brand-new items for CAS: two earrings, one beanie, one nails, one mini-cropped sweater with a bodysuit combo, and one pair of pants.

AS IT’S TOO MUCH TEXT, I’LL LEAVE THE DESCRIPTION OF EACH ITEM PLUS THE CREATOR’S NOTES BELOW THE CUT.

ALL ITEMS ARE:

TEEN TO ELDER

BASE GAME COMPATIBLE

MADE FOR FEMALE FRAME

DISALLOWED FOR RANDOM

THUMBNAILS (HOSTED IN IMGUR)

PATREON EARLY ACCESS + MERGED OPTIONS

Thanks to all the cc creators that I used in the pic. And thanks to @maxismatchccworld, @simblrcollective, @s4library, @wewantmods, and everybody who reblog this post!

If you’re a cc finds and want to be tagged when I post, please, let me know. You can send me an ask or in DM.

With your help, more people can know about my work! 💖 Love you all, XOXO <;33

DESCRIPTION OF EACH ITEM:

KYLIE HOOPS (TWO VERSIONS) Same colors and description for both versions.

928 POLYGONS

10 SWATCH COLORS - All plain colors

YOU WILL FIND IN ACCESSORIES/EARRINGS

HILARY EARRINGS

928 POLYGONS

10 SWATCH COLORS - All plain colors

YOU WILL FIND IN ACCESSORIES/EARRINGS

P!NK BEANIE (TWO VERSIONS) Same description for both versions.

2.780 POLYGONS

YOU WILL FIND IN HATS/BRIMLESS

VERSION 1:

100 SWATCH COLORS - 50 color combinations - 50 patterned

VERSION 2:

55 SWATCH COLORS - All plain colors

CHRISTINA NAILS (TWO VERSIONS) Same description for both versions.

660 POLYGONS

YOU WILL FIND IN ACCESSORIES/FINGERNAILS

VERSION 1:

44 SWATCH COLORS - All color combinations

VERSION 2:

55 SWATCH COLORS - All plain colors

HAYLEY SWEATER AND BODYSUIT

3.696 POLYGONS

190 SWATCH COLORS - 85 color combinations - 25 patterned (bodysuit) - 85 patterned (sweater)

YOU WILL FIND IN TOP/SWEATER OR/AND TANK TOP

AVRIL PANTS (TWO VERSIONS) Same description for both versions.

1.346 POLYGONS

YOU WILL FIND IN BOTTOM/JEANS

VERSION 1:

79 SWATCH COLORS - 44 single/plain colors - 35 color combinations

VERSION 2:

44 SWATCH COLORS - All plain colors

CREATOR'S NOTES:

Let's start with the accessories of this set. There are two sets of earrings; "Hilary Earrings," one with small hoops and a coin as a pendant, and "Kylie Hoops," two hoops, one smaller than the other. Kylie comes in two versions; the difference is that the bigger hoop is smaller in the second version. Both items are gorgeous and so easy to style; I'm loving them.

"P!nk Beanie" is a simple beanie but still beautiful and stands out in the outfit. It comes in two different versions with plenty of swatches to choose from. The main difference between the two versions is the tag on the back of the beanie; version one has, and the two haven't. Plus, they have different color palettes.

And last but not least, "Christina Nails," a new set of nails with two different versions. Version 1 is a cute french tip, but with a little twist - they're colorful! And just for fun, I did the same nails with plain colors without the french tip (Version 2), just because of this new medium/small shape I did for this new nail design.

Now the clothes, "Hayley Sweater and Bodysuit," is very cute, but also edgy. I liked this bodysuit design; I'm considering remaking it as a new item. I'll have to draw the top part and a new mesh; it's no big deal. What do you guys think about this idea? It comes in various swatch options. I added as many as possible, but since it was already 190 and the end of the month, I figured I should probably stop, or I'd never finish it! As 190 swatches weren't enough (hahaha), I did a recolor acc for recolor the sweater in 55 plain colors.

"Avril Pants" is an oversized cargo jeans that come in two versions - one with patches and one without. In both versions, they look very edgy and beautiful. The patches are available in two styles: one with just one color in different shades (like light to dark red) and the other with varying combos of color (like red+pink+blue).

All these items are inspired by the Y2K fashion but with my personal style mixed into it, too. I love the nostalgia of the 2000s, and it's been a huge inspiration for me when creating outfits and CC in the past. Still, as it's more trendy and I like it, I decided to do my first outfit for this set based on the fashion trend from the 2000s. I am anxious to design the following outfit for this set; I want to do a Nostalgia Set, a huge and complete set encompassing the most fashion eras possible.

And as always, all these items have been made to be worn together or separately - whatever you decide! I hope you like these items and enjoy playing with them. XOXO <33

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whumptober · 29 days

Text

FAQ

Please read this post before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Prompts cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? No. We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

#whumptober2024 #faq #frequently asked questions #whumptober information #event info 2024 #event info #whumptober

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leth-writes · 1 month

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Yandere Chrollo

Just a reminder that my requests are open!

Warnings: this blog is 18+. Discussions of violence and gore.

Summary: A library worker is found by the infamous phantom troupe.

This piece is more experimental, so if you want more, please let me know!

Despite having worked at the library for four years, Barbara still hadn’t quite gotten used to your presence. She tended to forget who you were, trying to kick you out from behind the desk until you flashed your badge at her. And yet, working at the library was still better than the drudgery of working retail, so at the library you remained.

Your favorite section was definitely the non-fiction, because it allowed you to get lost between the stacks, with only exhausted college students and well-meaning seniors occasionally wandering by. Even though you lived in YorkNew, your branch was on the outskirts, and was thus less visited than the main branches deeper within the sprawling city. This left you with quite a lot of free time toward the end of your shift, especially once Barbara went home. Working a closing shift meant you would average only one confused browser coming up to you per shift, allowing you to hunker down in one of the massive beanbags by the window and read away.

The weather was shifting, turning colder, and the nights were getting longer. It was approaching September, and you’d need to start prepping for the first week of school ‘rush’. At least, Barbara was convinced there would be a rush, but it wasn’t likely. Still, it was never too early to set up a couple of after-school activities to give the local kids a way to engage, especially with the recent uptick in crime.

Barbara was sure that the uptick in crime was due to some nefarious presence in the city, and honestly, you partially believed her. A series of brutal murders had rocked the city, yet the police were more focused on ramping up attention in the center of the city, around the operahouse, rather than protecting the populace. You weren’t surprised.

Chrissy, your friend from University, was waiting for you when you walked out after locking up. It was dark, without even the moon in the sky to guide you, as you both walked to the bus stop. Chrissy flicked her long black hair over her shoulder, glancing over at you. “Was your shift okay?” A hint of concern laced her voice. “Oh, it was okay. Barbara forgot where the stapler was and tried to get me to buy a new one, but that was about it. How was yours?” You left out the yelling involved in the story, of course. Chrissy smiled wanly; “I swear, the customers get younger and younger everyday. I had a ten year old come in, convinced she needed moisturizer for aging moms!” She laughed loudly, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to the bus stop.

The stop was empty and dark, no bus in sight. You checked your phone; the next one was 10 minutes away. “Do you wanna do something this weekend?” Chrissy ventured, peering over at you through her lashes. “I don’t have any plans”. “Cool. I got some tickets to some event from Mikael, some opera or auction or whatever. Wanna come with us?” She swung your connections hands between the two of you. “Alright, just to keep you from getting drunk and spilling wine on some rich socialite”. She laughed, tossing her head back. “That was one time!”

Footsteps crunched along the gravel of the path behind you. You surreptitiously turned around; it was a tall, willowy woman with a short blond bob. She was wearing a partially unbuttoned blouse and a tight pencil skirt. Some type of businesswoman? There weren’t any offices for miles, though… The library was part of an outlet mall, so maybe she was finishing up with some shopping. Satisfied with your mental assessment, you turned away. She came to a stop just to the left of the two of you, and you pulled your sweater tighter, making sure your mark was covered. You’d accidentally rubbed the makeup off your wrist earlier after cleaning up the curry Barbara had spilled, and you wanted to make sure she didn’t catch sight of the red, raised spidery tattoo present just beyond your forearm.

The tall woman glanced at you, then Chrissy. Seeing the lack of threat you two posed, she turned away and peered down the pitch-black road.

Chrissy pulled out her wallet, before sighing. “Shit, I forgot my keys! I need to run back and grab them. I’ll see you tomorrow, hun.”. She whipped around, barely missing bumping into a tall, stocky man who was approaching the stop, shouting out a hurried “sorry!” as she sprinted down the path.

The man, who was so hunched over your neck pinged in sympathy, leered at the blonde woman. “Hey!” he called loudly, moving toward her. “Hey, you!”. He moved closer, and she shot him an annoyed look. She shifted slightly away, her eyes flicking toward you before flashing back to the man. His hand reached out to grab at her hair.

“Just leave, dude.” you mumbled, stepping toward him. He glanced over to you, before doing a double-take, as if only just at that moment noticing you. “What’s it matter to you?” he asked. “Just go home. Leave us alone.” You huffed, turning toward the road to try to spot the bus. As you stared hard into the darkness, praying the man would leave, you noticed a flicker of movement at the corner of your eye, right before you felt a hard shove. You fell forward, your hands shooting out to catch yourself before you fell directly onto the road. You groaned, brushing dirt off your palms and slowly rising to your feet.

You looked over; the woman was staring at you, shocked, and the man was slowly lumbering away. “Are you okay?” you asked. She continued to stare. You stared back, unnerved. The impromptu staring contest lasted for almost a minute, only interrupted by the bus slowly pulling up. “Oh…kay… Well, have a nice night?” You ventured hesitantly, climbing up the steps of the bus in a hurry. The tall woman continued to stare. Just as you were turning around to find a seat, she suddenly grabbed your forearm. You started, whipping around and yanking your arm out of her grasp. “...Thanks,” she said lowly, not breaking eye contact. “Are you going to get on the bus or not, ma’am?” the bus driver’s low rumble broke the quiet moment, and you turned around again and went to find your seat. When you glanced back, the woman was gone and the door had closed.

The next day, the library was quiet as ever. Barbara was puttering around behind the desk, chatting to a younger reader who was attempting to check out without learning the name of every one of Barbara’s great-grandchildren. You smiled wryly; you wouldn’t risk getting sucked into the story of her son’s first steps, so the kid was on his own. As you moved toward the non-fiction area in the back, with its dusty red carpet and wide arched windows, you stopped to place books back in their assigned spaces, rolling the cart steadily forward.

You were broken from your focused trance by the soft clearing of a throat. You turned around to spot a young man, smiling at you. “Hi,”you said, glancing up at him. “Hello,” he said softly. “I’m looking for a particular book, but I’m not sure where to find it…” You perked up. “Oh! Of course, I can help. What book are you looking for?” His smile softened. “I’m looking for A History of the Bible, but none of the other branches I’ve checked have had it.”. You took the moment he glanced away to assess him. He was tall, taller than you, with a lithe frame and choppy black bangs hanging over his forehead. He wore a plush black turtleneck, with dark slacks and an expensive-looking belt, though you couldn’t place the label. You hummed, nodding.

“Well, I’m not sure if we have it, but if we do, it’ll be over there.” you pointed in the direction of Christian literature. “Are you looking for other books? Even if we don’t have that specific one, we might have something else you could use.” You hedged, tilting your head as you mentally ran through the catalog.

“Hm, I’m not sure. Are you well-versed in biblical critique?” You laughed. “No, it’s an interesting field but I’ve never taken the time to pick up a book on it. Are you in university?” You asked, curious. “No, just an… avid reader.”. You hummed. “Do you have any recommendations?” His dark eyes meeting yours. Suddenly uncomfortable, you looked away. “Um, I just read a couple of things off the cart every now and then… Anyways, I have to get back to sorting the shelves…” You turned away, feeling his eyes boring into the back of your head. You hurried away, leaving the cart behind and swiftly walking into the backroom.

You let out a huge huff of air, tension draining as you left the man’s point of view. Barbara, mid-eating her lunch, looked up. She seemed to realize something had happened, because for once, she seemed concerned. “Are you alright, love?” she asked. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay. Just rattled by a weird interaction” You turned away, walking out and moving toward the front desk. As you arrived, almost as if on cue, the phone let out a shrill ring.

You picked up the phone, absently curling the coil cord around your finger. “Hello, YorkNew Public Library, East Park branch. How can I help you?” You let the cord go, watching as it bounced in the air. “Walk outside and wait at the curb.” The voice was deep and rough, cold in its efficiency. “Excuse me? Is this a prank call? That’s not appropriate-” You began, huffing. “If you don't, the deaths of everyone in the building will be your fault.”. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped over your head, recoiling from the phone. “Listen, I don’t know who this is, but this isn’t funny. I’m going to call the police.” You went to hang up the phone, but stopped; what if it was real? What if there really was someone who would hurt everyone? Would it be better to just wait outside?

You considered, weighing your options. No. It wasn’t possible; the only people in the building at the moment were you, Barbara, and a young boy over by the arts and crafts table, innocently working on a paper project. You’d lock the doors and call the cops and they’d catch the guy and everyone would be safe. Satisfied with your plan, you slammed the receiver down and moved toward the door to lock it.

Your cellphone dinged.

Freezing, you reached into your pocket, before realizing it wasn’t in there. Where was it-?

Your phone dinged again.

You turned around, spotting it on the counter of the desk. You cautiously approached it, the irrational, animal part of your brain half-convinced someone would jump out and attack you.

Picking it up and unlocking it, you realized it was a message from Chrissy. You swiped into your Messaging app.

You dropped your phone, letting out an ear-piercing scream.

“Fuck! What the fuck?! You cried, hand coming up to clutch at your hair.” The landline rang again, interrupting your freakout. You yanked it off the hook, “What was that?!” you moaned, half-collapsing against the counter. “If you don’t step outside, We’ll have to come get you. If we have to come get you, the old lady’s next.”. You let the phone drop, tears cresting your cheeks as you shuffled your way to the curb.

The wind was blowing harshly and the sky was a sickly gray. What was once regular September weather now felt like an insult; it felt like thunder should be crashing down, a representation of the despair you felt. A sleek black car pulled up to the curb and the door swung open. You stepped up, bending down to see inside.

Across the divide was the man from earlier, still smiling. His choppy bangs were now pulled up, exposing an intricate dark tattoo clashing with his pale skin. “Ah, you’re here. Good. Please, get in.” You did, closing the door. The locks clinked in place, sealing your doom. Tears were still spilling down your face and you shuddered with the force of your sobs, breath hitching. The man looked over, concerned, and placed a hand on your thigh. “Don’t worry. We won’t hurt you.”

#yandere chrollo #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo x reader #lethwrites

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vscabarca · 6 months

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strangers again - pablo gavi

summary: gavi breaks the situationship off after realizing he fell in love with you.

genre: sad fluff? angst? but not really

———

July 23‘

pablo gavi. A charming, polite and good looking guy who had nothing else in his mind exept for football. That was until he had met you. A shy, yet outgoing girl with a good heart.

Fermin brought you once along to a party even though you weren’t very pleased with meeting his footballer friends. The stories he had told you were anything but comforting to you, their hookups didn’t interest you one bit. Yet, your mother urged you to go out, „meet new people in a new city“, as she called it. Moving to Barcelona was a big step, but something you‘ve always dreamed of doing when you finally turned nineteen.

There you were now, awkwardly standing in the kitchen of a stranger’s home next to Fermin, sipping on some alcoholic mixture he had made you.

Suddenly, a guy bumped into you and his drink spilled all over your shirt.

„Shit, I‘m so sorry.“ He apologized, already looking for some napkins to get you cleaned up.

Annoyed, you looked down onto your drenched shirt, already fed up with this stupid party.

„Here you go.“

It was then when you looked up, seeing chocolate brown eyes wander over the mess he‘d made.

He was a bit taller than you, brown hair slicked to the side and an awkward little smile plastered across his face.

„it’s alright. it will wash out, I hope.“ You grimaced. The white top had now an ugly brownish stain on it, so napkins wouldn’t help much.

„Wait I‘ll give you my hoodie.“

You wanted to decline his offer but he already pulled the sweater off.

„Thank you. I‘m Y/n by the way, Fermin’s cousin.“ You pulled the hoodie on, introducing yourself to the pretty boy opposite you.

„Pablo, nice to meet you.“

September 23‘

The last two months you’ve spent more and more time with Fermin and his friends, only for one reason. The Andalusian caught your eye since the party as you two hit it off that night.

Pablo and you became extremely close, so close that there had been a night where he’d kissed you. Since that evening, you couldn’t stop thinking about his lips and how his fingers left a hot trail behind where he had touched you.

Pablo looked for the stupidest excuses to be around you, was it tracing his fingers innocently on your waist while passing you or giving you a kiss on the cheek when he left.

October 23‘

It all happened very quickly. Pablo had brought you home from a dinner with his friends, but you invited him inside for a glass of water. He of course accepted, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible. Pablo was confused, he had never felt such things, especially not during the season. His whole focus was usually on football, but with you sitting on his lap that october night, it became rather difficult to think about other things.

One thing led to the other and you two were tangled in the white bedsheets, clothes littered around your bedroom floor, savoring the early morning hours together.

November 23‘

it was confusing to say the least. Pablo and you fooled around, hooked up but still acted like you two were in a relationship. It was nothing official, you never talked about what you two were.

But, you really started to develop feelings for the hot-headed midfielder. It didn’t make it any better that he bought you flowers, called you almost every day and took you out on romantic dates, ending them in the most pleasurable way.

All your friends knew about Pablo and were happy for you, yet didn’t understand why there was never a talk about a possible relationship. You were scared, scared it was nothing serious for him. Still, you just enjoyed the moment having Pablo by your side.

December 23‘

Pablo fell in love. Your laugh, your beautiful eyes, the light brown hair scattered across your face when you woke up next to him. You were his favorite person to go to if he was stressed about something, because as soon as he was in your arms, he felt at peace. It was like you had a magic spell on him.

But over the month of December something changed. Not his love for you, but his unsure feelings about the whole situationship.

Pablo never had a girlfriend, only quick flings. He felt like he knew nothing about how to treat a woman. You were such a special girl who deserved nothing but love and respect. Could he really give that to you? He felt like he wasn’t ready, he couldn’t treat you like you deserved to be treated. Pablo wouldn’t even be able to get to see you much because of his packed schedule. He wouldn’t be able to take you out to a restaurant in the middle of Barcelona without people bombarding you two. And, he wouldn’t be able to defend you from the hateful comments made about you on Social Media.

It all felt so difficult to handle, so a week before Christmas, he asked you to come over and talk.

„I can’t give you what deserve Y/n.“ He said with tears in his eyes. You didn’t understand what he was rambling about. It all was going so well, you already imagined a future with him.

Ironically enough, as you left his home it was pouring down. You couldn’t even tell if it were your tears or raindrops rolling down your face. Pablo wanted you to stay, at least wait until the rain was over, but you couldn’t handle seeing him.

He just ripped your heart out of your chest.

February 24‘

the last two months have been rough. As much as you loved Fermin, you couldn’t stand seeing him because you knew Pablo lingered around somewhere too. You didn’t talk with him since that night, but he tried to call you several times. You never picked up, your heart hurt enough by only seeing his name pop up on your phone screen.

Pablo on the other hand only wanted to hear your voice, to see how you‘ve been doing. But what could he expect? He broke your heart not too long ago.

April 24‘

April rolled around pretty quickly - Barcelona got warmer, the days became longer. You had moved on fairly well, only having nostalgic memories when thinking about Barça‘s number six. You didn’t hold any grudges against him, you somehow understood what he had said. Still, you strongly believed you two could have worked it out if you really wanted.

Fermin pleaded now for weeks for you to accompany him to Balde‘s birthday party, and to make him shut up, you decided to go with him.

A feeling of sadness spread through your body as you stood there, at the exact spot like nine months ago, holding your drink in one hand, occasionally taking sips from it.

Your eyes roamed around the room, trying to see if Pablo was lingering around somewhere. You didn’t find him at first, but he then emerged from the crowd. Your eyes met his and he abruptly stopped, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. His surprised state quickly changed into somewhat calm, a genuine small smile made its way onto his face. You reincorporated the smile, then pushed yourself off the counter to head to the door. With a last glance back, you saw him standing there, his gaze never leaving you. But after all, you two were nothing more than strangers again.

#pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi x reader #gavi one shot #gavi x reader #football one shot #fc barcelona #barça #football x reader

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reasonsforhope · 8 months

Text

Btw, if anyone cares to know, my position on Biden and the 2024 election is this:

Starting September* 1, 2024, I will be doing whatever I can to make sure that Trump does not get a second term as president

Until that day, I'm going to be doing whatever I can to push for an end to the genocide in Gaza and an immediate ceasefire, and that includes criticizing, protesting, and lambasting Biden for funding and providing weapons for Israel's genocide

ETA: I will still be posting about significant good things the Biden administration has done, though, because some of it is a really big deal that people deserve to know about

ETA: But I will not be defending Biden from any criticism around Palestine/Israel/war crimes

*This originally said October 1st but someone pointed out to me that there are a few states where early voting starts in late September, including a couple swing states, so I changed it because that's a very good point

I don't plan to tell anyone not to vote for Biden in the meantime, myself, because shitty two party system and I'm really serious about Trump not getting reelected

But I'm also not going to do anything to discourage people who are seriously rallying against Biden, because he is, you know, literally bypassing Congress to make sure he can fund crimes against humanity

I never want to diminish that reality.

And more than that: If we want genocide to actually be a dealbreaker for politicians and presidents... then we need to start acting like it could be.

Details/related thoughts:

I will still be posting about good things Biden and his administration are doing, because they are the ones running the US government and Congress is super deadlocked, so a lot of the national-level good news in the US has been done by his administration, and I'm not going to stop posting about that good news

Shout-out to the anon who accused me of being a US government propagandist with a whole PR team bc I posted about Biden a few days in a row. I promise you I'm blogging from my bed in my pjs and do not have a PR team lol

Also, for people who don't think we should be spreading serious criticism about Biden, for fear of Trump winning in 2024: I hear you--that's an incredibly valid fear. I've struggled with that myself, in the process of coming to this(/these) decision(s). But consider this: it's better that we really pile on the criticism and pressure now, because a) people are dying, and b) Biden's chances will be much worse if Israel is still bombing/decimating Gaza on election day

Relatedly, for anyone who's tempted to think Trump would be better when it comes to the Gaza genocide, again, it's really understandable to want to put your hope in any viable alternative. However, I promise you that is not going to happen. Joe Biden at least conditionally gives a couple shits about human life. Trump doesn't. Remember Trump's Muslim ban? In all likelihood, Trump would just tell Israel to bomb Gaza harder and ban Palestinian refugees from entering the US

Last thing on Trump: maybe this is naive of me, but for a lot of reasons, I'm not actually particularly worried about Trump winning in 2024. If I was, I might have made some different calls here. I have a few asks about this in my inbox and will probably make a post at some point about the reasons why, but yeah, Democrats have mostly been wanting to run against Trump instead of DeSantis or Haley or whoever for some very real reasons

You're welcome to disagree with me/this post in any direction, btw

Seriously, I'm just a random person who doesn't speak for anyone besides myself and my own blog. I'm not saying these are categorically the right answers, or that any of this is what everyone should be doing. This is simply the system I have settled on (right now) for how I personally want to handle all of this

You're welcome to disagree with me but please don't send me any angry asks about any of it. Not that I in any way get a lot of those, thankfully! But yeah, this isn't something I'm interested in debating, this is mostly for notification/explanation purposes

#palestine #cw war #cw genocide #us politics #biden #not news #me #reminder that all my posts related to the war/genocide are tagged as “palestine” and “cw war”#and if you need to filter reminders about all of this then you should #esp coming from you know a good news blog #Far better to engage with all of this news/info deliberately when/where you're in a place to handle it #then to keep spiraling and spiraling because it keeps surprising you in the middle of your dash #that's what I do actually I have several related tags filtered on here #and then when I'm up for it I go read a bunch of news articles and look up protest listings #and you know actually go to protests or post about it on here etc. etc.

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the-boy-meets-evil · 6 months

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once upon a summer | bsk

summary: Every summer kind of goes the same. The population of your usually sleepy beach town doubles and you bust your ass to make enough money to last through the slow season. But a new face blows into town like a whirlwind and he’s determined to catch your eye. Only one problem: he’s here for vacation and you’re married to this town.

pairing: seungkwan x fem!reader genre: 90s!au, summer love | fluff and some angst rating: sfw but minors still don't belong here word count: 8.6k tags/warnings: none really, some swearing, mentions of food, there's a tiny bit of angst

a/n: thank you so much to @beomcoups and @mingsolo for hosting the Now That's 90s collab! be sure to check out the other amazing fics 💕 also thank you to @wonwussy @cheolism @onlymingyus and @wooahaeproductions for helping me brainstorm when i got stuck writing seungkwan.

It’s the same every year, without fail. The weather starts to get warmer, summer is around the corner, and your sleepy little beach town transforms. No longer sleepy, now bustling with life and tourists. Although you groan at how busy the roads get or how difficult it is to run errands or even how hard it is to find a place to go out to eat, you’re also thankful. The influx of tourists guarantees that your family will be able to make ends meet for another year. Sure, there are people that visit during the off months. When it’s too cold to go into the water or even to sit outside and enjoy a meal, at least to most of the people who visit. When you have to wear pants and a jacket to walk along the sands of the beach, careful not to get any part of you wet. But, the bulk of tourists visit between late May and mid September, like clockwork.

You’re just as married to this little town as your parents are. Chipping in at their restaurant when you can, but mostly running a beach rental company with your brother. It lets you be outside a lot more, running boat tours to look at dolphins or explore the tiny little islands off the coast. Or renting out jet skis for people to run around on. Sometimes, when you can’t pawn it off on someone else, you also lead the kayak tours through the shallows between the outcroppings of seagrass. It’s not that you mind those tours or even the workout of kayaking. No, it’s just that people have a tendency to overestimate their abilities and either end up whining or toppling their kayaks over. You’re keen to avoid that whenever possible. When the ocean is calm enough, you’ll also let people rent boats to go out wakeboarding. Those are some of your favorites, when you get to drive because none of the tourists has a boat license. Or, more realistically, nobody wants to deal with it when they’re on vacation. And there’s nothing stopping you from turning the boat a little too hard if someone is acting like an asshole. All you do is say you’re avoiding a wave or staying out of the path of another boat. You’re the local here, born and raised. How can they argue with that?

On the days when it’s a little slower at the shop, or the ocean is a little too wavy for some of the activities, you’ll drop in at your parents’ restaurant. You’re not often on the schedule, but there’s always plenty to help out with. Whether it’s filling in for someone that called out last minute or hopping behind the bar or just running food to tables. Your parents’ restaurant is one of the most popular in town. People wait for hours to eat there just because they don’t want to be the only ones left out. Of course, you also think the food’s amazing, though you’re a little biased.

Today is one of those perfectly calm days out on the water, so you know you won’t be able to swing by the restaurant. Not that the waves ever get that big here. It’s definitely not enough to surf outside of an incoming storm. But, you try to be careful with renting the equipment out all the same. Most of the boats are refurbished anyway, since new ones are so expensive.

“What’s on your schedule today?” your brother, Jamie, asks.

“Nothing so far. I’m just getting caught up on paperwork and renting out boogie boards and shit,” you answer. “Not that there’s any waves to use them on.”

“No duh,” he answers. “Think the kids just use it to float on.”

“Whatever floats their boat,” you shrug.

“Feel like running a private tour out to the islands for the day?” he asks.

You fix him with a look, assessing him. It feels like a setup because you love taking private tours. They usually bring a bunch of food and drinks and just kind of do their own thing on whatever island you take them to. Which leaves you free to read or just enjoy the sun. Sometimes, you’ll even fish or snorkel. It’s just, well, your brother loves those tours too because they’re easy. Something about his tone makes you suspicious.

“Why aren’t you doing it?” you finally ask.

“Got a kayak tour in an hour and they’ll be here any minute,” Jamie says. “And you hate the kayaks.”

“Gotta page Mike to make sure he’s back before you head out,” you say.

If you’re about to take a boat out and your brother has a kayak group in an hour, then someone is going to need to actually man the store. Since you set the schedule yourself, you know that Mike should be back in half an hour, tops. But, like all of you, he’s prone to tacking on a few extra minutes when the group is cool and he doesn’t have something scheduled back to back.

“Chillax, I already did that and Joshua is coming in a little earlier so he’ll be here before I take the kayaks out,” Jamie says.

“Joshua tries to get pretty girls to listen to him play guitar and you want him alone in the shop?” you wonder with a snort.

“That was one time,” Jamie defends, ever the loyal friend.

There’s a retort on the tip of your tongue about how he’s only been caught doing that one time when you notice a group of guys approaching. You immediately know why your brother passed the group off onto you. At least, if these are the dudes that booked the private boat tour. Shoobies. The worst kind of tourists because they don’t think they’re tourists. Because they only live a few hours’ drive away so really, it’s like they live here too. Because they have a house out here and no it’s not just a vacation house, this is home. This particular group saunters up looking like they just stepped out of some boating catalog. Before your brother can elbow you, you plaster on your best fake smile, the one reserved for times like this.

The guy in front seems to be the one taking charge. His bright button up shirt matches his shorts, like he probably got them in a set, and his slightly curly hair looks a little too styled for the beach. The sunglasses look expensive, too, which you never recommend for a boat trip, but it’s his money. Honestly, his whole outfit probably runs close to what you’re charging to take them out for the rest of the day. So, that’s his choice.

“Sup, we’re looking for Jamie,” another one says. He’s tall and classically handsome, like that kind of guy you see in a magazine. Someone that just knows he’s attractive. He’s even got his shirt open showing off his stomach and a lot of tan skin. You hate him immediately. And not in the way of like oh, he’s actually kind of sweet. No, he reminds you of an ex.

“That’s me,” your brother answers.

“I’m Mingyu, I called about the day trip,” he says.

“Lucky timing, we just had a group cancel before you called,” Jamie says. “And my sister here has an opening to take you out.”

The surprise is clear on the guy’s face as you introduce yourself and give your name. Like you can’t possibly be the one that’s going to drive the boat. Like a girl couldn’t possibly handle it. You’ve heard it all before, so you’re just bracing yourself. But, before he can say anything, the guy that seemed to be taking charge earlier speaks up.

“Thanks for taking us out,” he says.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Mingyu asks, clearly unable to fully resist. For the first time, you glance around to do a headcount. Seven. Your brother is sending you out with seven guys all by yourself.

“The boat or the party?” you ask.

“Either,” he answers like he’s actually doing something.

“I got my boating certification when I was 14,” you answer.

“And she started driving boats a few years before that,” Jamie adds.

“Someone had to drive for you to wakeboard,” you say easily to your brother.

Your brother smiles before looking back at the group. “She’s also got a really mean right hook and she’s not afraid to use it, so don’t be skeezy.”

It’s clear that several guys in the group are eyeing you appraisingly, wondering if you really could knock them out (spoiler: you absolutely could) or if you would even consider it (spoiler again: yes, you would). Nobody else seems to have something to say, so your brother carries on with payment and going over the rules. In the meantime, you double check that your bag has everything you need (pager, emergency kit, shoes, water, snacks, the lunch you packed, etc.) and grab your shirt. You’re in the process of tying it off when you catch one of them, the one that thanked you, watching you.

A few minutes later, when you’re walking over to the dock, it’s him that falls into step beside you. Casual. Not even saying anything. At least, not for a minute.

“I’m Seungkwan,” he finally says.

You greet him again, even though he already knows your name, and figure that might be it. It is, for a bit, at least, while you get everyone on the boat and situated. Tell them that they should probably save whatever food and drink they brought for once you stop because you’re going to drive a bit faster. They paid a little extra to go to a further island and since it’s a little later than you’d normally leave for that island, you try to even it out. Not that they’ve shown they deserve it, but there’s no harm in case they have deep pockets. Which you assume they do, based on their clothing and general attitudes.

Where you had your brother helping you out pushing off from the dock, you’re on your own on the other side. It’s fine, you do it on your own all the time, there are just a lot of eyes on you. Some of those eyes seem to be waiting for you to mess something up, too, but you’re not going to give them the satisfaction. You brush it off when one, you forgot his name already, offers to help and says that he helps on his dad’s boat all the time. You can tie a knot, though.

Once you’re tied off, you point out all the amenities on this little island, which aren’t much. There’s a little place to eat that also has a small bar, chairs to lounge on and umbrellas set up. There are also some picnic tables set a little back from the beach. You let them know that you’ll either be on the boat or sitting inside the little food shack if they need you. And you’ll be ready to head back whenever they are. Mingyu and most of the group take off immediately. Seungkwan lingers behind.

“Are you coming?” he asks.

“Coming where?” you ask back.

“To the beach with us,” he clarifies.

You blink in confusion. “No, I don’t usually hang around.”

“What do you do?” he wonders.

“Read, get a tan, go talk to the couple that runs that little food shack,” you say with a shrug.

“Do you know everyone here?” Seungkwan presses.

You sigh softly and turn to face him fully. “Mostly. At least all the ones that work in tourism. It’s a small town.”

“Seems busy now,” he notices, looking around.

“It’s summer. Most of the people here now don’t actually live here,” you inform him.

“What’s it like here in winter?” Seungkwan asks.

You regard him for a moment. “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m just trying to get to know you,” he says and, almost like he can’t help it, rolls his eyes. “Most people know how to make conversation.”

“But why? Like what do you want?” you press.

“Just to get to know you better, geez, what’s with the third degree? You’re cute, there’s nothing wrong with talking to me,” he says.

“As if,” you scoff. “I don’t date shoobies.”

His face is adorably confused and you mentally chide yourself for even thinking something about him is cute. “What’s a shoobie?”

“Exactly,” you say like that answers everything.

He opens his mouth, but closes it when your eyes dart to this side. Neither of you noticed another of his friends approaching. You think it’s the one that offered to help tie off the boat. “We wondered where you got off to.”

“Sup, Chan? We were just talking,” Seungkwan says to his friend.

“Mhmm,” the friend, Chan, apparently, responds. “Well, Mingyu wants to know if you have the wallets in your bag. He wants to get something to drink.”

“Oh, right, yeah. I’ve got them,” Seungkwan says.

You spend most of the day sitting at the bar of the food shack, despite saying you might read. Well, you alternate between sitting there and chatting with Vernon or helping him out behind the bar. His parents run all the services on this tiny island and you grew up together. Right down the street from each other, actually. He’s been one of your closest friends for as long as you can remember. And one thing you remember is the two of you have always helped out at the other’s family businesses. It’s just part of growing up in this tiny town. Everyone knows each other and takes a lot of pride in helping. Plus, you’ll never say this to Vernon, but you’re probably better behind the bar than he is. You’re surprised his parents have him here at all, but still welcome the distraction.

Your boat guests, as you’re calling them, know you’re here too. Mingyu made a slightly inappropriate comment the first time he strolled up to buy a drink and Seungkwan apologized for him profusely. Seungkwan seems like someone who actually cares about those around him, actively tries to make sure everyone is okay. It’s sweet, in a weird way, but still doesn’t change what you told him. The no shoobie rule is strict. As you’re considering telling the guys it’s time to call it a day, Chan wanders into the bar and says just that. There’s no rush, he insists, but they’re ready to head back whenever you are.

“Need a lift back to the mainland?” you ask Vernon just after Chan walks back to his group.

“No, I gotta help the ‘rents clean up here,” Vernon answers as his mother pops her head around the corner.

“Actually, you should head back,” she says to her son before turning to you. “As long as it’s not too much trouble?”

“No, there’s plenty of space on the boat,” you insist.

“Good, then you can go home and let the dog out,” she says.

“Okay,” Vernon says with a shrug. “I’ll just grab my stuff and meet you out on the dock.”

You give him a nod and head off to the boat. The guys are coming off the beach and fall into step just behind you on the way to the boat. It’s clear most of them have been drinking, yet they’re not as rowdy as you’re expecting. They’re still helpful with getting stuff loaded onto the boat and only two of them make comments that make you cringe.

“Do you own shoes?” one of them asks, gesturing towards your feet. The guy in question is especially slender, not skinny but lean. His dark hair is a little longer than you’re used to, currently tucked behind his ears.

“Yeah?” you say, except it comes out more like a question.

“You haven’t had any on since we first met you this morning,” he presses on.

“Minghao,” Seungkwan hisses.

“I’m more comfortable around the boat without them. It’s easier to not slip. I keep a pair in my bag, though,” you answer, unsure why you’re even bothering.

“Should we all take off our shoes, then?” Mingyu asks.

“Might help you not fall this time,” another one jokes.

“Oh, snap!” Chan, at least you think it’s Chan, calls out.

“I didn’t fall, Jeonghan, I just stumbled,” Mingyu defends.

“Let’s all keep our shoes on and just watch our step,” you instruct.

Vernon appears during all the craziness from your…well, you can’t really call paying customers idiots. But, there’s also nothing stopping you from calling them that in your head.

“You’re the guy from the bar right?” Seungkwan asks and Vernon startles a little before nodding.

“Yeah, my parents run the food shack and the bar and that little gift shop,” he answers.

“I offered to give him a ride back to the mainland so he could get back faster,” you fill in. “As long as you guys don’t mind.”

The guys all shrug. Seungkwan is the only one to speak up. “Good with us. Do you know each other well, then?”

“She’s my best friend,” Vernon answers without hesitation.

If Seungkwan has something to say to that, and it seems like he might, he keeps it to himself. Actually doesn’t say anything to you for the rest of the ride back to the mainland and doesn’t appear to say much to his friends either. You don’t even mean to notice, mostly engrossed in your conversation with Vernon as he stays with you by the steering wheel. The group, as a whole, seems like they’ve had a good day, all smiles and very few hints of developing sunburns.

You realize when you get them all off the boat and back onto land that they definitely had a good time. Mingyu tips you way more than he needs to and way on top of what you would normally expect even from a group like theirs.

“What’s your schedule like the rest of the week?” Mingyu asks.

“My personal schedule or the company’s schedule?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Not like that, we just liked having you driving the boat and we want to come back,” Mingyu says and you can’t deny it’d be nice to have the guaranteed money.

“Oh, let me go check the books if you’ve got a minute,” you say.

Mingyu just nods and follows you along to the shop. “I’m only in a few hours tomorrow morning, so I definitely can’t do that. Monday isn’t too busy and I don’t have anything I can’t move. Tuesday during the day, since it’s slow, I usually work over at my parents’ restaurant. The rest of the week is filling up, but nothing I couldn’t move if you wanted to have me with you. Otherwise, I can have someone else take you out.”

“No, no, you were really great and we want to keep going with you,” Mingyu quickly says. “How about, for now, we book for Monday? And Wednesday. Full day trips.”

“Where do you wanna go?” you ask.

“Uh, where do you recommend?”

That’s how this whole thing with this ridiculous group starts. You ask Mingyu what kinds of things they want to do, list each of the reachable islands, list off the routes you can take without stopping at a specific island, list all the boat related activities. He ends up booking a third day with you, too, because there’s just so much that they want to do and want to see. You’re thankful for guaranteed money with people you’ve at least already met. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t and all that.

You’re a little later leaving your parents' restaurant than you meant to be on Sunday evening. One of the other servers really needed to get cut first, though, so you let them go. Often, you were first to cut out, since you had your own full time job to contend with. But, knowing your schedule for the next day was going to be easy, you didn’t mind.

What you’re not prepared for, though, is one of the guys from the boat group sitting outside. Seungkwan.

He stands up from the bench he’s sitting on and walks over to you. “Busy schedule for you.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“We were walking by and I thought I noticed you. Mingyu said you mentioned working at your parents’ restaurant tonight,” Seungkwan says.

“So, you what? Waited for me? Kinda weird,” you observe.

“As if,” Seungkwan scoffs.

“You’re here, though,” you comment.

“I just figured you might need someone to walk you home since it’s dark,” Seungkwan says.

“Kinda weird since I barely know you,” you comment. “Why do you want to hang out with me so bad?”

“Not really sure right now,” he says.

You regard him for a moment and he shifts under your gaze. Without another word, you turn and walk a few steps, before looking over your shoulder. “I’m not going home. You’re welcome to walk with me, though.”

Seungkwan looks confused but hastens to fall into step with you anyway. It’s like he can’t really help but keep a running commentary up while you’re walking. There are so many thoughts that it’s hard to keep up, or even get a word in. It’s entertaining, all the same.

He pulls up short when you get to your destination and he realizes that it’s a houseparty. People and music spill out onto the lawn in a part of town that’s reserved for things like this.

“Aren’t you taking us out in the morning?” he asks.

“Mingyu didn’t want to meet until 10 because anything else was too early and it’s not that late yet,” you shrug. “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.”

“But, I can? If I do want?” he asks and you chuckle.

“Thought you wanted to get to know me,” you whisper into his ear. With that, you smile and walk into the house. It takes him a few seconds before he hurries after you.

Parties run a little differently here, in a town that depends so heavily on tourism. Sure, plenty of people will party until sunrise, anyway. Running off being young (mixed with a lot of coffee). You’ve done plenty of it yourself, too. But, the parties all start a little earlier for people like you that can’t always afford to go until the dawn of a new day, especially when you have to spend all of the next day on the water.

While you’re careful to mix your own drinks from the bottles laid out, Seungkwan doesn’t seem to have the same worries. You introduce him to Joshua, who also works with you, and he doesn’t even hesitate to fall into step. So much for wanting to get to know you. Maybe he did just want to know where the good parties were. Joshua even lets him use the house phone to invite some of his other friends.

Those friends do show up and somehow both stick out and blend right in. They’re new faces, brave enough to come to a party where they don’t really know anyone. And they’re undeniably attractive. All of them. It’s a bit annoying, really. As you watch from your position on the couch with Vernon, a group of girls that you’ve known for years, and never really liked, starts to fall all over Seungkwan and his friends. Rosie, the ring leader, looks over at you with a smug smile and returns her attention to Seungkwan. It’s the same as any other time. Her eyes get big, she leans in close to him, touches his arm. The shoobies always seem to fall for it.

You’re on your feet and joining the group a minute later.

“Ah, there she is,” Rosie coos. Seungkwan clears his throat and takes a step away from her. Rosie, always using the same tricks, just steps closer and links her arm through his.

“Oh we loved her,” Mingyu, the tall friend, states. He’s a little tipsy, mostly friendly.

“Yes, everyone seems to,” Rosie says, all false cheer. “Seems a little…dangerous to me. Letting someone so young take you out on the boat.”

“Only when you don’t know your way around a boat despite living next to the water your entire life,” you cut across. “Then, it’s best to keep both feet on land and do something safer, like working at an ice cream shop.”

“I didn’t get any complaints when some of them stopped by earlier. Shame I didn’t get to meet Seungkwan, though,” she says and bats her eyelashes.

You roll your eyes and hold your hand out to Seungkwan. “There’s someone I wanted you to meet, come on.”

“He’s fine here,” she says. You snort.

“Yeah, I can make my own choices, actually,” he says and extricates himself to take your hand.

“We’ll just be here,” she calls at your retreating backs.

“Thanks,” he says as soon as you’re out of earshot.

“No problem,” you answer.

“Did you really want to introduce me to someone?” he asks as you wind through the kitchen.

“No,” you answer and pluck a couple beers out of a cooler.

“Just wanted to get me alone?” he presses and you fix him with a look.

You don’t say anything else, just trust that he’s going to follow you outside, which he does. You plop down onto a bench by the fire and hold out a beer as he sits next to you.

“It was just a little busy in there,” you finally answer.

“You don’t like the people?” he asks.

To buy yourself a minute, you open the beer and take a sip. “I don’t mind crowds or whatever. I’ve just known all these people my entire life and some of them are annoying. It’s like we’re in some kind of competition that nobody ever told me about.”

“Like Rosie?” Seungkwan presses. Your lips press into a thin line and you look away as you take a sip. “I caught the diss.”

“Yeah, I usually dip when she’s around,” you admit.

“She doesn’t like you either?” Seungkwan asks.

“None of those girls do,” you laugh. Seungkwan looks like he’s expecting more. “When we were in high school, a bunch of us went out on the boats one weekend. I didn’t realize one of their boyfriends was trying to pick me up until he went in for the kiss. I obviously brushed him off, but…”

“Damage was done?” Seungkwan asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “Like I’d ever kiss him anyway, as if.”

“And that’s all? They’re not trippin’ over your success with your business?” Seungkwan asks, a mischievous glint in his eye over the question.

You chuckle. “I do okay for myself.”

“Okay? Joshua told me how well you pay him and also that he was shocked you managed to move around enough things to fit us in the way you did,” Seungkwan said.

“What do you want me to say? I could leave here. I could franchise and get out of this town, but I’m married to this life here,” you admit. “Plus, how could I ever get over missing out on meeting the people I charter?”

“It’s okay, you can admit you like me,” Seungkwan says.

“You’re very confident, has anyone ever told you that?” you wonder.

“All the time,” he answers.

“Cheers,” you say and he bumps his beer into yours.

That one party seems to be a bit of a turning point for you with Seungkwan and his friends. They’re all funny, if slightly hungover, the next day on the boat. Always make sure to include you in what they’re doing. It starts to feel more like friends than customers on that second boat trip. Against your better judgment, you also agree to see them outside of boating trips too.

Through that, you get to know each of them. It’s actually kind of nice, in a somewhat chaotic way. It’s a little overwhelming at first. Not that you mind being around new people. You usually thrive in groups of people. It’s what makes you so good at your job. It’s also really sweet to see how much they love each other, especially the way they love Seungkwan. Any one of them would do anything for him and it’s melting your usually guarded heart.

He hasn’t asked you out again since the party, at least not explicitly. But, he’s shown you in a million ways that he’s there. He’s brought you drinks and waited for you after another shift at the restaurant. He listens to what you say and the things you’re interested in. Like how there’s this beautiful art gallery almost an hour away that you’ve never been, but are dying to see. He’s touchy once he realizes that you’re okay with it. A hand on your arm, brushing along your hip, grazing your lower back.

It’s only been a week since the first time you met them and this unexpected group already feels like a safe space for you. That’s why you’d agreed to a late dinner with them after a long day. Turns out, dinner was more like small plates cooked by Mingyu in the house they were staying in.

“Why won’t you let Seungkwan take you to dinner?” Chan asks.

“I don’t date shoobies,” you repeat.

Chan gives you a confused look. “That’s what Kwan keeps saying, but I don’t know what that means. I don’t think he does either.”

“It’s a term for the tourists. Particularly the ones that come down in the summer from the nearby cities and think having a vacation house here means they actually live here,” you explain. You’re not sure why. There’s just something a little endearing about Chan. Kind of like a sibling.

“It’s just dinner,” Chan says with a shrug and takes another sip.

“Fine,” you relent.

“What?” Chan asks, nearly spitting his drink out. “Kwan!”

“Wait…” you start and then marvel at how quickly Seungkwan appears.

“She said she’d get dinner with you,” Chan says as he walks away.

“You agreed to go out with me through Chan?” Seungkwan questions.

“Okay, it’s not like all that,” you start.

“You do like me,” Seungkwan announces, triumphant.

“We’re not going out here. If I’m gonna go on a date with a shooby, it’s got to at least be in a different town,” you sigh.

“I can work with that,” Seungkwan agrees.

It’s nice to be able to sleep in a little and trust that everything is okay both with the shop and the tours. You’re just about to head out to work when your phone rings. You consider letting the answering machine get it before rushing into the kitchen. You think you probably just manage to pick it up off of the receiver before the last ring.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Oh good, I caught you,” Seungkwan says on the other end.

“Yeah, I was just headed out to work,” you say.

“Actually, about that. I know we said dinner, but I have a surprise for you today. It’s too good to pass up,” he says.

“Seungkwan, I have work,” you tell him.

“I spoke to your brother, actually. A couple of my friends agreed to help out at the shop and your brother has someone covering for you. So you’re free,” he shares.

“You can’t just unplan my day,” you say, but you know he can hear the smile.

“You deserve a break. Just say yes,” Seungkwan says.

You consider it for a second, switch the phone from one ear to another to think. There’s only one answer, really. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, okay. What should I wear?” you ask.

“Just something comfortable. We’ll be inside, so you don’t have to worry about the heat,” he says.

“I have to change because I was ready for work. Give me like ten minutes?” you ask.

“I’ll come pick you up,” he says.

It’s hard to get dressed for a date when you don’t know what you’re doing, but you try to just put the first thing on that you can find. That’s part of why you gave yourself such a short window to get ready. It forces you to focus without overthinking anything. Your mind is going into a little bit of overdrive wondering if going out with this man is actually a good idea. Not because you're worried something is going to happen. Weirdly, you actually feel very safe with him. It’s more because you do feel safe and comfortable and completely at ease. That’s not something that happens very often for you. It’s nerve wracking that it’s happening with someone only here for a getaway.

Thankfully, a knock on your front door interrupts your impending spiral and you hurry to answer it. Seungkwan stands on the other side in a nice pair of slacks and carefully tucked in shirt. As his eyes traveled over your own outfit, you worried that you were underdressed. Then, he smiled, told you that you looked beautiful, and handed you a bouquet of vibrant flowers. You invited him into your apartment just long enough to find a vase and fill it with water.

When Seungkwan leads you outside to the black town car, you pause for a second. This already feels fancier than any date of your life and it hasn’t even really started. Sensing your slight hesitation, he gives your hand a squeeze and holds the door open for you to slide in.

As soon as he’s in as well, you’re immediately thankful for him. It’s not like you to be nervous on a date. Not that you actually go on dates often, but it’s just being around people. And that part is easy. Has to be for your line of work. Dates are usually easy too, which makes you wonder why this date is so hard. Thankfully, Seungkwan carries the conversation for both of you. Or, at the very least, he keeps up a steady stream of questions and stories about himself. All you have to do is follow his lead.

Finally, curiosity gets the better of you. “Okay, where are you taking me?”

“You do understand wanting to surprise someone, right?” Seungkwan asks.

“We’ve just been in the car for awhile,” you start.

“Sick of me already?” Seungkwan jokes.

“And we’re not heading towards anything that I recognize for somewhere to eat or anything else date-like,” you say.

“You did tell me that you weren’t going on a date with me in your town,” he says.

“I did,” you agree.

“And we’re not going on a meal date,” he says, still maintaining the mystery.

“You’re so exhausting,” you complain.

“You’re the one who agreed to go on a date with me,” he points out.

“I did,” you concede.

“You must really like me,” he presses.

“As if,” you scoff in response.

The truth is that you’re not sure how you really feel about Seungkwan. You want to keep him at a safe distance. There are a lot of reasons that you have the rule that you don’t date tourists that come down to the beach during the summer. Part of it is that you don’t find any of them all that interesting. There’s often a sense of superiority over the people that are working for the summer. Or they just don’t see it as anything serious. Everyone loves to think of the fun, no strings attached summer flings.

Which brings you to the second, and real reason. No strings attached is fine. But it ignores that you’re real people, too, with real feelings that could get really hurt. It might just be fun for the person who breezes in and breezes back out on vacation. This town is your whole life. This is your livelihood. The last thing you need is to fall in love with some rich guy from the city that’s going to be leaving before you realize it. You don’t want to risk getting your heart broken. It doesn’t exactly explain why you’re breaking all your rules with Seungkwan, though.

When the car pulls to a stop and you look around, your breath catches. As kind as Seungkwan is, you still can’t believe that he brought you here. Once, in a passing conversation, you mentioned an art gallery that you’d been dying to go to. It’s just that life got in the way or it felt too far away or nobody really wanted to go with you. It seems impossible that he would have been listening closely enough to remember you mentioning it.

“Seungkwan,” you whisper out.

“I thought what better time than now to check off some things you want to do,” he says, trying to gauge your face. “Is that…did I do okay?”

“It’s so thoughtful, thank you,” you say earnestly.

“Let’s go, then,” he says and helps you out of the car.

The whole experience is a little surreal. Someone is waiting at the door and lets you in. Seungkwan doesn’t even stop to pay an entry fee, if there is one, before leading you off to the first installation. Just as you want to ask about it, you catch sight of the piece that he’s leading you to and get completely lost. Yes, this really is the perfect date.

Seungkwan is also the perfect person to have with you. For all the times he can’t seem to stop talking, he’s surprisingly soft spoken during your time at the gallery. He keeps in constant contact with you: a hand on the back, carefully grabbing your hand to lead you to a new area, an arm around your waist with his thumb tracing patterns into your hip. His body pressed into yours is both immediately comforting and entirely terrifying. How has this man waltzed into your life and pulled all of your normal walls down?

You were worried that you might feel out of your element going to a gallery with someone like Seungkwan. He’s clearly got money and loves art. As much as you also love it, you don’t exactly know very much. Instead, Seungkwan remains by your side and shares his insights about the different pieces while asking for your thoughts, too. Nothing about it feels like you’re out of place. In fact, you feel like you’re exactly where you belong.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask suddenly.

“Anything,” he answers.

“Why’s it so quiet in here? I know it’s during the day, but…” you start while looking around.

“Oh, I rented it out for the day,” he says casually.

“You…what?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I just thought it might be nice to explore it in peace without anyone else around,” he shrugs off.

“That’s really sweet,” you say with a squeeze of his hand in yours. “I hope you know that you don’t have to do all that to impress me, though.”

Seungkwan looks away, maybe a little shy for the first time since you met him. Not that it’s been that long. “I do want to impress you.”

“Why?” you ask.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before and I want to show you that maybe I’m not like anyone you’ve met before either,” he answers. It’s so honest. More honest than you’re used to.

“You’re definitely not like anyone I’ve ever met,” you admit.

“In a good way?” he wonders.

“I’m not sure yet,” you say, matching his level of too-honest.

Seungkwan, usually quick with a smart remark, doesn’t have anything to say to that. He only runs his thumb over the knuckles of your hand in his. You’re starting to appreciate that about him. That he doesn’t always say something even when you know he’s got some of the quickest wit in the world.

When you leave the museum, he takes you to the greasiest hole-in-the wall of a dinner that you’ve ever seen. The kind of place that you can’t really imagine someone like him visiting. Someone that has a car phone and designer everything. The kind with more money than you can even conceive of having yourself. But, he slides into the booth with the cracked leather and opens up the discolored menu to see what the place has.

There’s something really endearing about it. Especially considering how worried you were about fitting in at the art museum and then some fancy restaurant afterwards. Instead, he’s showing you all the little ways that he can fit into your world. Or that he can adjust his world to fit you. All the many ways that he listens when you say something about wanting to go to the museum or not really seeing the point of those super fancy places. Which, honestly, isn’t even totally true.

Your heart is so full watching Seungkwan make the waitress laugh at his jokes. You feel impossibly light at the ease of the conversation between you. It’s even easy to swat away at his hand when he tries to steal food off of your plate. It should be a little scary, the way this man is breaking down every wall that you spent so long putting up with a practiced ease. It’s not, though, and you don’t really want to dwell on why that is.

Nothing really changes, at least not officially. But, in reality, everything is different. Seungkwan fits into your daily routine with the same ease that he’s shown in everything else. He’s there with coffee before you start work, there at the end of the day to talk about dinner plans or walk you over to the restaurant your parents own. Sometimes, he’s there during the work day, with or without his friends. It’s only been a little over a week and he already feels like an inextricable part of your routine.

Your brother only teases you a little bit. Mostly, he claims, because he’s afraid that Mingyu could take him (spoiler: he absolutely could not). Really, he’s just happy to see you happy and taking chances that you wouldn’t normally take. Happy to see you enjoying life instead of just living to work. He doesn’t talk about the looming issue and you don’t bother bringing it up either.

At least until you can’t really avoid it anymore.

You and Seungkwan are sitting on a swinging bench at the park. With your legs tucked up underneath you, it’s easier to curl up to him. As is normal for him, he finds all the little ways that he can to be in contact with your body. Even though physical affection has never been your favorite, he’s so casual about it that it feels easy. Everything feels easy.

“So, I have to leave tomorrow,” he says.

And suddenly, your whole world flips. Which is crazy, right? You still barely know him. Haven’t really been out on much that counts as a date. And you knew that this all had a time limit because he’s a tourist. A shooby. Someone that only comes down during the summer or on weekends. This isn’t home to him like it is to you. It doesn’t make any sense that it would feel as awful as you’re feeling now. He’s just someone you met through work and have gotten to know. It is not the end of the world.

“Oh, right,” you say, pulling away to put space between the two of you.

“Are you upset?” he asks.

“No, of course not. Why would I be?” you ask in return.

“You seem upset,” he presses.

You scoff. “As if.”

“Well, I actually wanted to talk about what we were going to do since I have to head back to the city,” he says.

“What we’re going to do?” you repeat as a question.

“Yeah, like about us,” Seungkwan says. You aren’t looking at him so you don’t see the confusion on his face. You don’t really hear it, either. Not over the pounding in your head. “I was thinking I could come down sometimes on the weekend and figure out how to get you up to the city when you have time off during the week and…”

“What are you doing, Seungkwan?” you snap, finally looking at him.

If he registers the hurt in your eyes, he doesn’t comment on it. He only reiterates what he’s already said. “I’m trying to talk about us, like I said.”

“There is no us here,” you snap. “It always had an expiration date, right? You were always going to leave.”

“Well, yeah, I do have to leave. But, I don’t want this to…” he starts.

“To what? To end? Why bother starting it in the first place?” you ask with far more bite than you intended.

“Because I like you,” he says like it’s obvious.

“Do you? Or do you just like that I’m fun for vacation?” you ask.

“This has never been about just having fun on vacation,” he says, still trying to keep his voice even. You can hear the irritation creeping in, though. Good. Maybe that’ll be easier.

“Sure it wasn’t,” you snark.

“Listen, if it was just about fun on vacation, I wouldn’t have picked you,” he finally snaps.

“Nice, Seungkwan,” you say, even though you know you pushed him.

“Don’t turn this around. You know it’s not about it being some vacation fling. Vacation flings are supposed to be…” he starts and then snaps his mouth shut.

“What? Easy? So I’m not a fling because I didn’t sleep with you?” you ask.

“You’re twisting my words, that’s not what I meant,” he pleads with you.

It’s too much, though. This is exactly why you never go on dates with people like him. This town is just an escape to them. Something to get them out of the dreary routine of everyday life. And it’s everything to you. The only thing you’ve ever known and the one place you’re not sure you could ever give up. So, yeah, you knew better than to get involved with him. Knew and did it anyway. There’s nobody else to blame.

Without another word, you’re on your feet and walking off. Ignoring Seungkwan’s calls after you. It’s over and that’s a good thing. It’ll allow you to refocus on the things that matter like your family and making enough money to last through the quiet season. There’s no point in listening to anything else that Seungkwan has to say when you’ve heard it all before.

This always had an expiration date, you remind yourself. At least you got to walk away on your own terms.

It seems that Seungkwan doesn’t understand that it has an expiration date. He tries to stop by the shop before he and his friends head back home. Your brother is quick to intercept him and suggests he’s better off just leaving. For all the annoying things your brother does, at least he doesn’t bother you. Just lets you keep busy and take over any of the tours when you don’t have something else to do. Even lets you reorganize the entire store without a word. You’re thankful for him.

That’s not the last you hear of him, though. You come home to messages on your answering machine asking you to call him back with a number. There’s no point in taking down the number, or even finishing the messages, so you delete them. It even makes you hesitate to answer the phone, preferring to let the machine get it. When you’re not sure if it could be him, you’re not in a rush to pick up.

That’s when he starts reaching out to your friends like Vernon. Thankfully, he’s naturally aloof and doesn’t actually know much of what’s going on. There’s not much he can tell Seungkwan. Not much help he can provide. Although, he wouldn’t help anyone that you didn’t want him to, so he mostly just stays out of it.

It isn’t until the first weekend since he left that you realize he’s still got tricks up his sleeves. You actually have a minute to wonder why he didn’t call the night before. Actually wonder if maybe you’re being too hard on him. And then he’s there, waiting for you by your shop. When you try to ignore him and breeze through the door, your brother blocks your way.

“Just…give him a chance to talk. You might be surprised what he has to say,” Jamie says.

Your brother is a lot of things. He’s annoying in the way all siblings can be. But, he’s never stuck his nose into your business without good reason. And he’s definitely never gotten involved in your dating life. It’s enough of a pause to make you consider giving Seungkwan a chance to say whatever he drove all this way to tell you.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask when you sit down next to him.

“It’s the only way I could think of to make sure I could talk to you,” he says.

“I didn’t want to talk,” you say, a little petulant.

“Then you can just listen,” he says. That catches you a bit off guard with how firm he is. “I didn’t come down here looking for anything. I just came away for a trip with my boys. Then we met you and you’re all I could think about. You’re complicated and guarded, but you’re also kind, smart, funny, thoughtful, strong, and the only person in my life I haven’t been able to figure out in one or two conversations. I wasn’t planning on developing feelings for you. I can’t help that I did. And it certainly has nothing to do with it being vacation. You’re not some vacation fling to me.”

That whole speech brings you up very short. This isn’t what you were expecting and you feel a little guilty. You’re not used to someone putting in this much effort when there are so many obstacles. It’s not how this normally goes. Sure, someone comes down for a weekend or a vacation and they want to chase you while they’re here. Then, the vacation ends and they want to just go back to their normal life with a story about the person from vacation. They didn’t want the complication of distance and schedules before anything had even really happened.

“There’s got to be other people that don’t live so far away,” you say.

“I can’t think of anyone but you,” he says confidently. Easily.

“But, why me?” you ask.

“For all the reasons I said,” he says.

“You live far away,” you protest weakly.

Seungkwan takes your hands in his and looks calmly into your eyes. “Just answer one thing for me. Do you feel something for me as well? Or am I reading this whole thing wrong?”

“I do, but…” you start.

“No buts. Don’t worry about the distance or any of that. We’ll figure all of that out,” he says.

“By me moving?” you wonder.

He looks surprised. “No, of course not. We’ll just find times where we can. It’s like I said. I’ll come down for a weekend or you can come visit me. I’ll pay to send a town car to pick you up if I have to.”

“You really want to make this move without changing…” you start but can’t finish.

“I want you exactly how you are. Like I said, we’ll figure out a way,” he says. “Are you in? Ready to take the jump?”

“As long as you catch me,” you say through the butterflies in your stomach.

“Every time,” he agrees.

i struggled with this and seungkwan was difficult, but i hope you like it all the same 💕

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f0point5 · 4 months

Note

The new fic was wonderful, I cant get enough of Em and Max I hope you never stop writing about them! That being said, I'm curious, would you write about one (or all four!) Times Max had to run around a city looking for Emelia?

Okay I’m sorry about how this turned out 🫣 I know in the fic it referenced that Max didn’t know there was a problem and only found out once she left but I am taking some artistic license with this being one of the four times! Don’t hate me 🫠

I did actually start a different one featuring Emilia’s dad so I may finish that one and we will get a funnier/more on brand instance of Emilia running away but…I hope you enjoy this one in the meantime!

✨Set in September 2021✨

They nicknamed her “The Bolter”

Max watches the sunrise in total, deafening silence. He thinks at some point he gets up to feed the cats. He thinks, but he isn’t sure. He’s so tired. His eyes are watering. It’s not tears. He can’t sleep. He wants to. He doesn’t want to. It doesn’t matter if he wants to, he can’t. He can’t sleep knowing you’re not home. He can’t sleep not knowing you’re safe.

He looks at his phone again. He has it on loud and on vibrate but he still checks. Still hopes.

Daniel: Did you hear from her?

Lando: She’s not answering me sorry

Clara Albizzi: You fucked up

That last one makes me feel sick. He did fuck up. He knew the second he’d said it. The way your face just fell and you couldn’t look at him. The way your shoulders hunched over.

You’re the reason she’s not here!

You hadn’t even packed a bag. Hadn’t even taken keys for a car. You’d just picked up the shoes that were lying in the hallway and left.

And he’d let you.

It had taken everything in him to stand still and let you leave, even as the fear set in. Fear that smelled like freshly cut grass and petrol. Fear that felt like crisp night air. Fear that looked like headlights in the dark.

The restraint had only last a few minutes.

You had blocked him, of course. So he’d called your friends. He’d ended up calling half of Monaco including more drivers than he ever spoke to regularly. Everyone denied hearing from you. He’d actually driven to Daniel’s to confirm his story that he wasn’t home. Max wondered more than once if you’d earned more loyalty from his colleagues than he had. Even if one of them was lying to him, at least you were safe.

But he couldn’t take the chance that you really hadn’t ended up at someone’s place. You didn’t have you bag with you, or even comfortable shoes. You couldn’t pay for a cab. It was that thought that had sent him to the Hotel de Paris. It was your favourite hotel in town, you even checked in for staycations sometimes. They would have your information, so you wouldn’t even need a credit card. The receptionist had refused to tell him if you were staying there - illegal, apparently - but something about his appearance must have incurred her sympathy, because she’d said that they hadn’t had any unexpected guests.

That had sent him to Sass Café. A long shot, because you didn’t usually self medicate alone, but he’d tried anyway. Fifty times he thought he’d seen you across the room as he’d weaved his way through the hoards of people. Normally he could spot you anywhere but when all he wanted was to see you he’d seen you everywhere.

By the time he’d got home, some time in the wee hours, Max could feel himself starting to shut down. As he’d called your name to no response and checked your room to find it empty, he could feel himself starting to get cold. He’d sat down on the couch, intending to think about what he was going to do next, but the thoughts had started to get away from him. The memories of the last twelve hours began to fold in on themselves, becoming smaller and squarer and so too did the feelings. The anger, the frustration, the panic, the disappointment, it all got more manageable, packing itself away in the corner in his mind that Max had so often found himself hiding in.

Even the fear had gone. The fear had gone somewhere around 5.30 am, when the darkness started to wane. As he sat on the couch and watched the sky go from black to blue to the colour of the dress you wore to Luka’s christening, his leg stopped shaking, his fists unclenched, and the tightness in his chest disappeared.

Finally, emotions had given way to a familiar and encompassing emptiness. Max just felt numb.

You’re the reason she’s not here!

What had he even been so angry about? He could almost laugh at himself. He hadn’t been angry. He’d been embarrassed. You’d told him you’d found underwear that wasn’t yours in the washing machine and he’d been so fucking embarrassed. And then he’d thought, what did he have to embarrassed about, and he decided in a split second it must be because you were judging him, and who were you to judge him when you were the reason he was fucking random girls in the first place. His relationship had ended because of you.

You’re the reason she’s not here!

Except you weren’t the reason. Not really. It had been Max’s choice and he knew that. Max needed you more than he’d wanted her and he had never once regretted that choice, although wherever you were, you probably thought he did.

He almost wishes he could feel all of it. Whatever it is that’s been forced under the surface because he can’t deal with it. He can’t feel anything. His eyes are sore and unfocused and they sting.

He drags a hand over his face. He should do something. Get flowers, or call the police, or…anything. But he doesn’t. His limbs don’t move. He just sits there…like he’s waiting for someone to pick him up.

You’ve got to come back.

Don’t worry, Max. They always come back. You’ll apologise. You’ll do better next time.

His eyes water again. This time it might be tears.

Somewhere behind him, one of the cats meows. Maybe he didn’t feed them after all.

“Max?”

At the sound of your voice, Max’s head turns so fast his neck hurts. He blinks furiously at the sight of you. For a second he thinks he’s imagining you.

“I brought strudel,” you say, holding up a small folded pastry box.

Max gets up before his he tells himself to. He wants to pull you into his arms, the urge to do it is the only thing he’s felt in hours, but stays still. You’re back, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse.

“Not everywhere, clearly,” you say with a shrug.

“I went to Sass, Daniel’s, I called Lando, Alex, Clara, Zita,” he says, as if trying to prove that he’d tried. “I went to the hotel to see if you were there. I’ve been around the whole city all night, I didn’t sleep,”

“Oh.”

You look a little sheepish, almost guilty, as you make your way to the kitchen. Max follows, too far behind for his liking but he’s still too scared to get closer.

He sits on one side of the island and you stand on the other. He really takes in your appearance now. Hair up, no make up. Wearing a pyjama shirt. Where the fuck did you get pyjamas? He doesn’t care. His eyes run over you one more time. He might never let you out of his sight again.

“Don’t scare me like that,” Max admonishes, though there is no strength behind his words.

“Don’t piss me off like that,” you retort, and there’s strength behind yours.

The look you give him cuts like second place, and he looks away. He looks out to the balcony. The sky is cobalt now. What time is it?

“Did you mean it?” You whisper into the silence.

Max looks at you now. “No.”

“But-“

“No.” This time it’s an oath.

You shake your head as you open the pastry box. “Max, you obviously kind of meant it,” you say, turning to pick up two plates from the counter. “And I don’t blame you. I know I’m the reason you and-“

“You’re not the reason,” Max insists. “She’s the reason. She thought…she made that choice. And yeah, a part of me is still angry about it, and I cannot talk to her so I took it out on you. That wasn’t right and I’m sorry. I don’t know why I even- I’m sorry. It was my fault,”

Take responsibility. It’s your fault. You caused this to happen. If you don’t like the outcome then stop making people angry.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter this time. Even to his own ear it sounds a little more desperate.

You stare at him, eyes narrow, like you’re trying to read him, and Max almost flinches under the scrutiny. Finally, your face softens, and you sigh. Something in your posture eases.

“Max, it’s okay,” you say gently. “People fight. I just felt like shit and you know how I get. You’re fight, I’m flight, remember? I was…anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’re okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Max says. “Of course.”

You don’t look like you believe him, but he’s telling the truth. If you’re okay, then he’s okay. If you’re there, then he’s okay. If you’re home then that’s where he wants to be.

You shuffle around the island with two plates of strudel, padding on bare feet towards the living room with Max in hot pursuit.

“Where did you go?” He asks, now noticing that not even your shorts are the ones you left in last night.

“The Maybourne,” you explain, settling on the corner of the couch, legs outstretched. “The concierge gave me some spa pjs,”

Max takes a seat next to you, further than normal but closer than he’s been to you in what feels like forever.

“I’ll pay you back for the room,” he says with a rueful smile.

“Yeah, I think you will,” you say haughtily, and Max forced himself to laugh. There must be something in his expression that tips you off, though, because your face falls. “I’m sorry I left,”

Please don’t ever do that again.

The words are on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them. He doesn’t ask. He can’t. He has no right to ask you that, because no one can ever promise not to leave and he can’t promise to be worth staying for.

“It’s not the first time,” Max says with a chuckle, nudging you with his elbow. “I’m used to it by now,”

You roll your eyes and turn on the tv, flipping through to find the Moto GP race as Max yawns. The buzz he felt at your return is wearing off and the exhaustion is creeping up on him. He doesn’t want to sleep yet, though. Not when you’re still in his periphery. It’s stupid, but some part of him needs to be consciously in your presence for a while.

“Max, you can go to bed, if you want. I know you didn’t sleep,”

“No,” he says, a bit too quickly. He imagines that he blushes when you notice. His cheeks certainly burn. “I’m just….I’m fine here.”

You reach over to pick up a pillow and lay it on your lap. “At least lie down,” you say, patting the pillow like you do to get one of the cats to sit on you. Max hesitates, but only for a moment, because he’d do just about anything you told him right now.

He settles his head on the pillow, eyes fixed on the tv. He used to do this with his mum, he remembers. The first night joke after being with his dad for months, she’d put on a movie and Max would lay his head in her lap while they watched. He doesn’t think he’s ever told you that.

Your hand running through his hair is like a little jolt of energy, somewhere above him he hears you giggle at the shiver that goes through him. You don’t stop, though, finger massaging his scalp. It quiets all of his nerve endings.

“You need a haircut,” you tell him. He knows what you’re doing, but he can’t bring himself to care. As long as it’s you doing it.

“Yeah,” Max agrees. It’s the last thing he says before he finally falls asleep.

#max Verstappen x reader

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1d1195 · 8 months

Text

My Friend's Toyota I

🎶 here she is! Based on the song of the same name, by Asiris 💕 I wanted to write this before spring arrived. It's just a few parts (I'm thinking 4 right now) only because the first part got so long 🤭

~8k words

Warnings: college!Harry but otherwise none really. Just wanted to write a cute romantic story. Maybe the tiniest bit of angst (but maybe not in this part just yet). This part is a little ramble-y but I promise it'll come together quick.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

Can’t believe September’s already over / Looked for stars and I found a supernova / praying to God that I can hold her close / ‘Cause I know she’s worried ‘bout the snow / She said “Darling, should I bring a coat?”

Harry thought he was more excited to go to university than anyone had ever been. “For drinking right?” his friends from school asked with a laugh. They chatted about it all the time during the summer before they all left their hometown in favor of the new chapter of their lives. Harry liked drinking, sure. It was fun but he enjoyed hanging out with his friends more. At least when they were in university they wouldn’t be drinking illegally anymore.

But Harry was a bit of a hopeless romantic.

He believed university was the surefire way to meet the love of his life. The person who would knock him off his feet, make his heart grow three sizes too big for his chest, and simply just... feel like he was right where he was supposed to be.

The first semester of university came and went.

Harry didn’t meet the love of his life.

He had Mitch. His roommate and one of his best friends from home. But Mitch was in love with their friend Sarah and unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same way about Mitch as Sarah felt about him. But that was okay. He still had lots of time to find the person that would make his stomach flutter.

But spring semester came and went too.

Harry tried to find her. He went on dates with several women he met in classes and at parties. He heard the whispers and rumors about him. It made him a little sad that some of the women he went out with never corrected the rumors. His longest relationships were no more than a month, but Harry couldn’t help it that he didn’t feel the spark he was looking for and ended things before they really got going.

It was supposed to be all-encompassing. Make him breathless. Knock him to his knees. Maybe he was being ridiculous. At the age of almost twenty he was being unrealistic to want something like that. He was young. There was plenty of time for love.

But was it so bad that he wanted it now?

His dorm room with Mitch was a suite and they each had their own rooms. They decorated the main room with the help of Sarah to make it homey (and also stopped them before they used empty vodka bottles as décor). Their dorm was one of the “party” dorms, but they rarely hosted. Harry and Mitch wanted their place to be a safe place. It rarely saw more than ten people—and that was only when he and Mitch were pre-gaming with other friends to go to a party off campus. Sometimes Harry brought his friends back if they had too much to drink. It made him feel better knowing they were in a safe place. Sarah even brought back a girl that was too drunk to make any good decisions of her own accord. Harry minded over her with worry because the poor thing was all but sobbing as she threw up most of the night and whined about how sad she was.

Harry actually dated her for about a month after—some kind of savior complex that he should have known doomed their relationship from the start.

So, he kept waiting to find the love of his life. But he couldn’t help but feel discouraged as he complained to his mum and Gemma over the summer that he didn’t find her that first year.

“Honey bunny, it’s too early to think like that,” Anne smirked. “You’re so young.”

He shrugged. “I guess. M’jus’... Mitch has Sarah,” he reminded them.

“I know, but...” Gemma smiled sadly at him. “You’re not Mitch. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”

Well Harry didn’t meet her the following year either. Twenty came and went. He continued hearing rumors about his body count. The only ones ready to defend him ever was Mitch and Sarah but he simply didn’t care. The girls he met at parties, bars, in class, they all continued to flirt with him and when Harry felt the hope of a spark, he chose to pursue it—not because of the rumors, not because he felt like he had to in order to find the love of his life, simply because he was young and enjoying his life.

But September of his third year.

Oh.

Harry was appalled that as a third-year student, any of his major professors deigned to have an eight-AM class. It felt like death as he walked with the throng of people headed to the correct buildings when the sun was barely high in the sky. His eyes felt droopy, and he was certain he yawned the entire walk from dorm room to classroom.

His backpack was slung over his shoulders. He shouldn’t have gone out last night. He wasn’t hungover, but he was just so tired. The chance of meeting the love of his life could have been at that party. That wasn’t an opportunity he was willing to miss.

“I told you,” Mitch muttered to him liking eight-AMs more than the average college student. Get it out of the way. He stuck his foot out causing Mitch to stumble a bit and he smirked with a low chuckle. “Idiot,” Mitch grumbled.

Harry didn’t know what he wanted to do with his degree yet. Another component of divine intervention he was hoping would appear in front of him. Love and career. He hoped the universe would help him figure both out sooner rather than later.

Mitch veered off to his own building and Harry counted down the minutes until he could trek back to his dorm room. Harry was yawning—again—and shook his head trying to perk himself up as he made it to the building where his classroom resided on his schedule.

Harry chose a seat in the back of the room. Put his head on the desk and tried not to think about how his bed might be his real soulmate.

Harry was much more awake now that his professor had re-sparked his interest in microeconomics. All his classes were econ-based this year and he was honestly super excited to look at different facets of his major and maybe that was divine intervention. He had four required economic electives: sports, law, history, and statistics. Additionally, he would be taking a math class that was a pre-requisite to the class he needed for next semester. He tried not to think about it too much.

With a pep in his step, he no longer felt like going back to his dorm and sleeping as he told Mitch he would be doing instead of joining him for breakfast. He wanted to go to his next class or the bookstore. He wanted to geek out over the intro lecture he just heard to someone that would care and wouldn’t brush off his nerdiness. What he really wanted was someone to kiss at the end of the day and tell him all about their classes and ask what he wanted to do for dinner—whether it was dining hall food or a date in town.

“Hi Harry,” someone called as he fantasized about his little dream life. He didn’t even see who it was, so he turned to catch a glimpse.

“Hi—” he started to call politely. If it was someone he knew, he didn’t want to be rude. As he turned, he must have shifted into the path of someone else’s walk to class. He bumped into someone with about half of his body. He knocked her phone out of her hand. Also made her stumble off the sidewalk a bit. “Oh, sorry, love,” he said bending for her phone before she could. The water bottle she had tucked in her bag also fell to the ground. “Are you alright?” He was hopeful he didn’t hurt her, but who knows, she could have tweaked her ankle on the edge of the walk and Harry would have felt horrendous for the whole rest of the day.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” her voice was a bit rushed. “I just transferred here this semester, and I’m all turned around and I’m going to be late—”

Harry glanced up at her having gathered her belongings from the dewy grass and finally caught her gaze. She stopped speaking when Harry looked at her. He swore his heart stopped. They were off the sidewalk, now. People were walking quickly to and from their classes. Harry could feel the gaze of people who knew him as he walked by. Trying to figure out who the girl was he was talking to.

Harry knew he hadn’t found the love of his life yet due to lack of connection. They liked Harry well enough, and he honestly was fortunate to have had a few girlfriends who were kind, intelligent, and pretty. Those he had dated the past two years simply didn’t scratch that itch for the fantasy he had: asking about his day, telling him about hers, and what did they want to do for dinner.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

They hadn’t spoken in thirty seconds while Harry dreamed of happily ever after with her. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Where are y’headed?” He asked quietly.

She shook her head rapidly and pulled her phone from his hands. Harry tried to memorize everything about this moment. The concentrated expression on her face while she scanned her phone screen. “Umm... Livingston 210,” she sighed. “Am I going the complete wrong way?” She asked nervously. “God this is so embarrassing. I spent all day yesterday walking around trying to map out my paths and I had to park in a different lot, and I am the worst with maps and directions,” she rambled.

“No, no,” Harry shook his head. “S’this way. Let me walk you,” he offered. “You’re fine,” he promised glancing at his own watch. “You’ll... you’ll be early,” he reassured her.

She blew out a relieved breath. “Really? Don’t you have a class to get to?” She asked. “I don’t want to put you out—”

He shook his head quickly. “No, not... not at all, love,” he murmured. “M’happy t’do it. Got a break before m’next class.”

Her face took on this gorgeous smile that Harry wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forget. The relief was palpable. It seemed almost excessive, like he was a doctor and told her that she wasn’t ill and not that her class was only about a three-minute walk. But Harry adored that smile. The way her eyes lit up along with the curve of her lips. “Thank you, so so much. I’m so nervous and know absolutely no one—except my roommate. But she doesn’t have class until noon. Plus, my transfer credits went in late last week so the schedule I had planned is all different than the one I made in June. I really almost considered just leaving and transferring back—”

He chuckled at her little ramble. He liked it a lot. Way more than he probably should have for having met her only ninety seconds prior. He wondered if she always did that. The need to find out was nearly unbearable. How could he prolong the conversation? How could he get her number in the next two minutes it took her to walk to her class? “C’mon,” he tilted his head toward the direction he had come from.

Was he being ridiculous? Maybe.

But this was what he wanted. The way his heart stopped. He couldn’t ignore that. Was he holding his breath? Was she feeling the same warm tension that was covering his entire body with the need to look at her? This was it. She hadto be it. The love of his life. The first day of third year. His heart felt... whole.

“Oh good, this is familiar,” she sighed with relief. Chuckling, Harry held the building door open for her to pass through. “Do you like candy?” She asked as she entered.

Blinking curiously, Harry wondered if she had some conversation in her head that he wasn’t privy to that resulted in such a question. “M’sorry?”

“Candy?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he smiled at her curiously.

“Okay, I’ll get you candy as a thank you for walking me, then,” she promised with an assured nod of her head.

Harry was floored by her kindness to a stranger. It made him feel so overwhelmed that he ignored how ridiculous it all seemed for him to act like this. So that meant she wanted to see him again. He chuckled. “Y’don’t have t’do that, love. S’not out of m’way,” he reminded her.

“I know... but you don’t know me, and you look important.”

“Look important?” He repeated dumbly and gestured to the stairwell for her to ascend. He followed beside her hoping he didn’t look as creepy as he felt feeling so overwhelmed with how he already felt about her.

“I don’t know, everyone was staring at you while we walked over,” she shrugged.

He smirked. But he was surprised he missed that. Usually, he noticed when people called out to him. “Everyone?”

She nodded. “I think a few people even did a double take,” she explained. “So, you must be important.”

He rolled his eyes with another little laugh from his lips. “Uh...I don’t think m’important,” he admitted. They stood a few feet away from the door labeled 210. “S’really no trouble. I jus’ left m’eight AM from here,” he promised. “Was jus’ going t’get breakfast. M’happy t’help.”

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll get you candy,” she said glancing at her watch and then the classroom door. “I like to get a good seat for the lecture. I’ll... see you around...?” She waited for him to fill in the missing information.

“Harry,” he said wiping his hand on his leg before holding it out for her to take. The first time he would touch who he was certain was the love of his life.

“Harry,” she repeated, placing her hand in his while introducing herself as well. “I’ll see you around.”

His heart was aching with something that had to be a cross between infatuation and undeniable love. Her hand felt so nice in his and it was just a handshake. Imagining their fingers twined together made him ache with want. “Wait,” he said right as her hand touched the doorknob. “Where’s y’next class?” He asked. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened her schedule. “Uh... Sawyer,” she said reading off her phone. Harry’s heart leapt. “312.”

He felt tingles all through his body. From fingertip to his stomach, to the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “Yeah?” He asked rhetorically. The question was more for the universe; it’s way of telling Harry she was here. “I’ll walk you,” he promised. “We’re in the same class.”

She turned her face briefly from him—maybe an effort to hide the blush that was covering her cheeks and making Harry fall even harder for her. “Yeah?” She wondered.

He nodded. “I’ll meet y’at the front of the building when class gets out, yeah?”

She smiled. “Okay, thanks, Harry,” she sighed with relief heading through the doorway. “Enjoy your break,” she called over her shoulder.

Harry floated back down the steps. Honestly, he wanted to wait outside her classroom, but he just met her, and he wanted—no needed—this to work. Wanted it to work more than anything. The smile plastered on his face had his cheeks hurting but he couldn’t stop. He nearly sprinted to the closest dining hall where he told Mitch he would meet him for breakfast.

“Sorry, m’late. I jus’ met the woman m’going t’marry,” his voice was all airy, falling into a seat beside Mitch with a dreamy look on his face.

“Whoa,” Mitch chuckled. “You look sick.”

“I feel sick,” he laid down onto a second chair. Backpack still on. He looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. He was in love.

“Glad you met her, Harry. Finally, right? Can you act like an adult?” Mitch muttered cutting up the waffle he had on his plate. Sitting up he smiled at his friend.

“We have class together next.”

“Isn’t that your math class?” He wondered. He thought about the schedule Harry was insistent about putting on the fridge so they could find each other if needed while at home. For emergencies. But Mitch didn’t understand why the schedule needed to be on the fridge if Harry made him commit it to memory anyway.

“Yeah, so?”

“You hate math.”

“No one likes math,” he grumbled.

“Maybe she does. Maybe she’s not your soulmate.”

“Shut up,” he dropped his bag in his seat and headed to get food. Upon returning with his tray, about three other people said hello to him. One girl stopped him asking if he was coming to her party this weekend and one of the guys that he knew from his pickup soccer games asked if he was available tomorrow night for a game at the rec field. “If she likes math then... jus’ mean she completes me. Still m’soulmate,” he shrugged.

“You got an answer for everything,” Mitch laughed.

Harry found her sitting on the barrier wall to the mini garden outside the building. One of her legs stretched along the length of the cement ledge and the other dangled off the side. With the need to get her to class on time, Harry didn’t have time to ogle her at all. But now, as he approached her, he noted she was wearing a pair of jeans and a pair of trainers. Obviously, her worry about being late to class must have meant she considered sprinting if it got late enough. Her T-shirt was this light orange-pink color. Like she was modeling a sunset. She had a book propped on her thigh and she leaned over reading, like she was simultaneously doing yoga while reading.

“Hey,” he called. Her head perked up and she smiled, putting a bookmark in between the pages and swinging her leg over to say hi.

“Hi!” She chirped excitedly. “I was afraid I missed you when I ran back inside.”

Back inside? He frowned. “Did y’class end early?”

“Yeah... almost a half hour ago,” she shrugged hopping off the ledge. “Syllabus and all. Doesn’t happen that often to me—I’m majoring in accounting and finance, so all my classes just jump right into the lectures and lessons. But this is a sociology class that my other school didn’t offer but I have to take here to graduate,” she explained with an eyeroll. “They were insistent.”

“M’sorry y’had to wait,” he frowned.

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled. “I got to read a bit and—oh!” She twisted her backpack around her body and into the zip pocket. She retrieved whatever item she was looking for and held it out for him to take. “For walking me,” her voice was so sweet.

Harry felt his jaw fall open just a bit as she placed the Twix bar in his hand. “Twix is my favorite, but I got Starbursts too if that’s more your vibe. Reese’s if you like peanut butter. I wanted a variety just in case and it won’t go to waste regardless—”

“Twix is m’favorite, too,” he said turning the bar over in his hands. He looked up at her as if she really was placed right in his path. Fate. Out of nowhere. Like a star exploding out in the universe and dropping this angel in its spot.

She smiled. “Excellent,” she said. “Where’s Sawyer, then?” She asked while zipping her bag again and heading toward the walkway when he walked her to the building earlier. “I want a good seat,” she reminded him. Since she got him his favorite candy bar—and simply because she existed and was without a doubt going to be his favorite, period—he wanted to make sure she got the seat she wanted.

He wanted to make sure she got whatever she wanted.

Was it normal to want to hold someone’s hand like this? Harry’s immediate thought was no. It wasn’t normal. Wanting to hold hands with someone the way he was craving to hold her hand had to be the most abnormal thing in existence. Every Tuesday and Thursday for the next three weeks, he waited outside Livingston, watching her descend the front staircase to the main floor. They chatted the entire ten-minute walk to Sawyer where they shared a math class. She insisted on sitting closer to the front than Harry would ever consider but he was immediately enamored with how sweet she was and there was no way he could let someone else sit beside her.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were slowly becoming his favorite days of the week. They were his weekend even with a packed schedule on the two days. Talking to her was everything he had been longing for the last two years of school.

On Sunday, he slept until almost ten-thirty. He was lying in bed while scrolling through his array of social media and other correspondences. He heard the shower running, so either Sarah or Mitch must have been well after a night of drinking.

Three weeks. After three weeks of pining and walking her to and from class, he got an email on a Sunday.

The subject line read: Be-Twix you and me I’m glad we’re friends. He threw himself out of his bed and paced the main room trying to figure out if it was Mitch or Sarah in the shower. He knocked. “Sarah!”

“Sorry, Harry. She’s sleeping,” Mitch called.

He opened the door anyway. “She emailed me.”

“How 2002 of her,” he snorted.

“You’re useless,” Harry grumbled closing the door shut. He truly considered barging into Mitch’s room and waking Sarah for a girl’s opinion but after doing the very same and seeing way more than he was supposed to of his two friends, he opted for figuring it out himself. He vaguely wondered if there was a way to open an email faster. He must have read it a thousand times and it was only four sentences long.

Hi Harry!

I was wondering if you would want to study for our exam together? I like having someone to study with, but if that’s not your vibe I understand :) Let me know either way! This is my number if you would prefer texting.

Harry thought there were no prettier ten numbers than the ones that formed her phone number. He was immediately ready to text her but luckily had the wherewithal of checking the time stamp of the email to see if he was looking desperate but struggling to care. Fortunately, the email was from a little after seven-thirty.

He could have chatted with her for three hours longer if he hadn’t slept so late.

Hi, it’s Harry 😊

Hi! Glad my email didn’t scare you off. My roommate said that my Twix pun was horrendous.

It’s adorable. Thank you for emailing. I’d love to study. I work until five... I can meet you somewhere?

Do you like coffee?

I love coffee 😊

Do you think it will be cold around five? I’m still getting used to the weather around here. I want to bring a coat.

Harry made a mental note to pack an extra sweatshirt in case she got too cold. Can’t hurt to bring one. You never know what the weather will do around here.

Forty minutes a week.

Forty blissful, perfect minutes in the month of September had been spent chatting with the stranger that bumped into her on the first day of the fall semester. The sun was warm despite the breeze chilling her skin. It wasn’t nearly enough time but she somehow managed to fall incredibly hard for him anyway.

It was a bit ridiculous.

Her roommate—and only friend—was also a transfer student. However, Allie was much more outgoing than she was. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have fun; it was just different than how Allie enjoyed herself. Allie made friends everywhere she went. Their off-campus but university-owned apartment was always in flux of visitors from her classes, her club tennis team, or just someone she met while eating lunch in the dining hall between classes.

Allie was a good judge of character though, so she never worried about someone of bad rapport traipsing through their place. Also, Allie was always sure to keep everyone away from her room, of course.

But Allie had no problem flopping on her bed around ten in the morning and nosily glancing over her shoulder. She had left her email open anxiously waiting for a reply from the most handsome guy she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. “Be-Twix?! Sweetie, that’s atrocious,” she rolled her eyes. She groaned in response.

“I... I don’t know,” her face felt hot with shame. She really liked Harry. “It seemed like a good idea at the time... maybe that’s why he’s not answering me,” she frowned.

“Maybe he just sleeps like a normal college student and doesn’t wake up at the ass-crack of dawn,” she said knowingly patting her knee reassuringly.

“Have you seen the leaves?” She whispered almost in awe. “I went for a walk to get a bagel and—”

“I’ve seen them,” Allie smiled with a shake of her head at her silly friend. The adoration she had for little things was admirable, sweet, and just... if Harry Styles broke her heart, she would break his face. “I lived here my whole life, remember?”

But she didn’t live here her whole life. So, she was in awe—her first true fall since she was a toddler that she didn’t even remember. There were pictures of her jumping into a pile of leaves with her mom that her dad had just painstakingly raked. The south didn’t have pretty leaves like this in the fall. Palm leaves didn’t change color other than wilting brown when it was too hot. She intended to spend every minute looking at the beautiful hues of orange, red, and yellow so as not to miss the pretty season she hadn’t gotten to enjoy for most of her life.

After another agonizing thirty minutes of waiting for him to respond (and breathing with sweet relief that he did want to see her later) she told Harry that she was worried about it being cold later in the evening. She had grown up closer to the Tropic of Cancer which was now roughly 15 degrees south of her current latitude. She hated the heat; it made her skin feel dirty and oily with sweat all summer long. Her hair was too thick, her skin naturally too warm. Just thinking about her thighs sticking to her leather car seat in July was horrific.

But her parents had grown up and met here on this pretty autumn-picturesque campus. Somewhere not quite freezing (at least not yet, so she had been told) but not quite suffocating with heat like home. They left here when she was two to situate themselves in Hell’s sauna room. After taking the general requirement classes at a state school, she wanted to transfer up north to the university where her parents fell in love. Call her a hopeless romantic, but if she hadn’t found the love of her life amongst the bathing suit, half-clad guys on the beach during the last two spring breaks, then he probably wasn’t in the south. Instead, she hoped she might find him around the ski slopes.

She hadn’t anticipated finding Harry before her first class started.

Forty minutes.

That was how much time Harry generously gave her outside their shared class combined on Tuesday and Thursday each week.

She wanted more. Greedy with want and didn’t know how to do it without tying it to school. Part of her worried because what if he just pitied her and now didn’t know how to get away from her? They had class together; he couldn’t be rude. Even if he didn’t like her the way she was already falling for him, it was very obvious that Harry was a good person.

“Just be careful,” Allie warned lightly. “Harry has a bit of a reputation I hear.”

She frowned and shrugged. She knew what Allie meant. People around her weren’t exactly subtle and while she listened to music in the dining hall while she ate, or studied in the library, or even just read her book. Those around her whispered. They had seen the pair of them walking to class. Apparently, Harry never looked like that before. The whispers included Harry having plenty of girlfriends. Sometimes two or even three at a time. That just seemed ridiculous, and she felt so sad others talked about him behind his back. There were even quiet bets about how long she would last in the list of Styles’ conquests.

So, she understood that Allie was just trying to look out for her. “Well... I like him. He doesn’t have a reputation around me,” she shrugged. Allie frowned for a moment. She was so sweet.

“Just be careful with your heart,” Allie looked at her with a bit of worry in her eye. But her smile was encouraging. “It’s too good for university guys.”

She had only known Allie about three months longer than she had known Harry. They both moved in at the start of the summer, working off campus and getting to know one another as well as the area (not that it helped her directionally illiterate mind). Allie was lovely and all the things she wanted in a college-best-friend that she never really got from commuting to the local college when she lived down south. “I think you would like him.”

“I can like him and still want someone better for you,” she shrugged leaning in the doorway. She didn’t want to taint the image of perfect Harry. But the stories she heard weren’t easy to ignore. She had seen him at parties since her best friend met him on her way to her sociology class. It was hard to miss him. It was like he was the star of every party.

He drank with his friends and girls obsessed over him. To her friend’s nearly naïve point of view, however, Allie hadn’t seen Harry flirt back. He was helpful and kind to those that drank too much; guiding them outside and gently pulling a girl’s hair back for when she threw up in the shrubs. It was endearing in a lot of ways. But she would still kill him if the rumors of a string of girls was true. If her new best friend was just another notch in his belt, Harry was dead. “You are so sweet to believe in the good in everyone. I just don’t want you to be heartbroken if he isn’t as lovely as you think.”

She smirked looking at the emojis and rapid influx of messages Harry was sending her trying to coordinate timing and picking her up, so she didn’t have to walk. “I won’t,” she promised. But she didn’t say that she thought he was better.

Harry was fifteen minutes late. He blamed the table he was waiting on before he left. They were overbearing and wanted their meal comped—that much was obvious. Looking for the smallest hiccups to rebuke him. Harry begged his manager to seat them in another section. Having waited on them before, but no dice. His heart was in his throat wishing he had time to go home and change but he couldn’t. If he was a moment later, he was sure he was ruining everything.

Unaware of Harry’s worry, she waited patiently on the bench outside the apartment building the university had taken as more dorm suites. She continued reading her book trying not to think about how maybe Harry had better things to do than study for a math class on a Sunday. Especially after work. But he had texted her he was running late, and he was on his way.

She was glad she decided on a coat, it wasn’t freezing, but her thick skin ill-suited for hot weather was already thawing and feeling the chill of the early October weather. She spent an embarrassingly long time sorting through her athleisure wear trying to decide. Something suitable for studying at a coffee shop that wasn’t overstated but not quite sweatpants.

Right when she thought about calling Harry, he appeared in front of the bench. Parking and getting out of his car quickly and hurrying to the passenger side. “I am so sorry,” he said hurriedly dragging a hand through his curls. She admired the motion; enjoying how mussing them didn’t matter much and they fell right back into place. She cleared her throat and shook herself out of her own staring at him.

“For what?”

“M’so late, love. S’rude. M’sorry,” he repeated.

“Oh...it’s...it’s really okay. I was already out here—”

“S’cold,” he frowned eyeing her sweatshirt and the coat at her side.

“I’m okay!” She promised. “Is everything alright?” She asked and stepped toward him putting her hand on his forearm. He thought he might explode at the feeling of her skin on his. It was more intimate than their handshake, and she got the feeling she wanted to twine their fingers together again.

Harry seemed to breathe with a sigh of relief, and he looked at her with this stunned expression. She couldn’t figure out why. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Jus’ felt bad being late.”

“Oh,” she blinked. “That’s okay. I wasn’t in a rush or anything—”

“No, love,” he shook his head. “M’sorry because I wanted t’see you so bad,” he sighed. He ran his hand through his hair again making her heart take off at a speed that had to be unsafe for her health. Almost immediately she felt light-headed. He wanted to see her. He just told her that. There was no hiding it. She could feel that emotion thick in his voice.

“Oh,” she repeated, completely stunned and confused. “Really?” She asked in complete shock.

“Yes, very, very much,” he sighed dreamily.

Her cheeks warmed hotly under his gaze. The pair of them stood there. Staring at one another as if they were statues destined to look at one another for all eternity, frozen in time to capture a moment like theirs. The October air was rapidly cooling, but she couldn’t feel anything but heat. Like she had stepped out of the airport terminal back in the south except this heat was not suffocating. It was so welcoming.

For a few moments they just stood there, her hand touching his forearm, gazing at one another. Part of her thought it would be nice to be a statue on the street. At least if Harry was beside her. Eventually, he shook his head ever so slightly and smirked. “So...coffee?”

She cleared her throat, smiling brightly. “Please.”

Just one week later, she was chatting with a friend from her sociology class. The moment he saw Harry, he knew Harry was there waiting for her, just as he had been since they met a month earlier. Harry recognized him from attending many parties that his frat hosted at one of the houses someone had off campus. His eyes seemed a bit surprised to see Harry waiting at the bottom of the steps, doing a double take at him waiting for the girl he was walking with down the steps.

“Hey Harry,” the guy said quietly.

“Hi!” She chirped gleefully. Her excited smile felt like too much on her face, but she had no way of knowing. She also didn’t notice the turmoil the guy felt seeing the competition between himself and Harry. (If she did know, she would flat out tell him there was no competition—other than school, Allie, and work, her mind was all about Harry.)

“Hi,” he said politely with a smile and turned toward the person he actually cared about talking to. “Y’ready for math, love?” He asked gently.

“Always,” she started for the main door. “See you around!” she called sweetly over her shoulder.

On Saturday, Allie asked if she wanted to go to a party with her. She was more than happy to stay in and read her book. But she teased her. “Harry might be there,” she winked knowingly.

As much as she didn’t pay any attention to the rumors about Harry, it was hard to fully ignore them the way she wanted to. It wasn’t that she distrusted Harry. No, if anything, she believed in him more than anyone else. But it did sound like Harry had a different party persona. She was not a party person. Honestly, she wanted him to have fun they way he wanted to. Going to a party just because he was there...

“That’s alright, I think—”

“Oh, come on!” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll help you get all dolled up and we’ll just have a couple drinks, and we can leave if you hate it. But if Harry is as smitten as you say he is, I bet he won’t let you leave,” she giggled.

Her face warmed at her friend’s assumption and she tried to picture a scenario in which someone as attractive as Harry would worry about little ole her like that. “Isn’t it cold out?”

“So wear another sweater!” Allie rolled her eyes.

“That’s not very college party of me.”

“Well, I would suggest an alcohol blanket, but I feel like getting you drunk before you even see Harry would be bad.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll make me look pretty?” She asked quietly at her friend in the doorway.

“Prettier,” Allie nodded assuredly.

“Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s go to a party.”

Allie’s arm was looped through hers. It was freezing out. But honestly it felt nice. She was just a bit shivery. “I thought you said I could wear another sweater.”

“Sweetie, hiding your assets at a party would be criminal.”

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. They entered the door, dodging the guy standing at the door to keep people in and out very quickly. “Hey Allie,” he said.

She waved in response and headed right inside. She thought maybe it was a good thing Allie told her to skip the sweater. The heat inside the house was nearly as warm and humid as the airport terminal. The air was thick with the sour smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat. “I don’t know how people want to hook up with anybody around here. I can’t think of very many places that are less of an aphrodisiac.”

Allie smirked and pushed the pair of them through a throng of bodies toward the kitchen. She grabbed two red cups from the sleeve of them off the counter and asked the makeshift bartender—surely some poor freshmen pledge—to pour them drinks. Her gut felt a little off about the gesture. “I don’t know, Al,” she whispered softly.

“I’ve had them here before,” Allie promised reassuringly. She still wasn’t thrilled with the idea as she took the cup from her friend.

“Hey Allie!” Someone called. Allie turned, looking over her shoulder as she called back over the pounding music. Meanwhile she looked at the liquid sloshing along with the ice. She thought maybe she should have taken her chances with the jungle juice—no one would be stupid enough to touch that, even if it would end with her throwing it all back up at the end of the night.

The pair of them circled around the house, briefly stopping to watch the end of a rousing game of beer pong. The winning person slammed his beer back, dripping along the sides of his mouth triumphantly which made her smile. Allie rolled her eyes and tugged her out back. A bon fire was in the middle of the yard. Another sober freshman pledge, undoubtedly in charge of standing guard. The music was still loud but way less aggressive outside. There were other large groups of people outside as well chattering and drinking away. Allie worked quick; left her alone by the fire—which she was grateful for since it was warm. When Allie returned, she was already sipping her second drink, holding a third, and dropping her empty cup in the trash bin right near the house. Oof, her head was going to kill tomorrow.

“Harry’s here,” Allie whispered to her as she got close to her again. There was a twinge in her knees, like she might fall at the mere thought of him. It took all her self-restraint to not whip around to catch a glimpse of him. She wasn’t playing hard to get, but this was very much not her scene. She didn’t want to intrude on whatever fun he was having. “You should go say hi,” Allie nudged her.

She smirked, wanting to take a sip of her drink but still feeling hesitant so she just put the cup to her lips, like she was pretending to sip it. “Uh...maybe later. I don’t want to interrupt,” she responded directly in Allie’s ear. The good news was she managed to peek over her shoulder to see him standing a little ways away from the fire. It was too dark to make out any specific features or defining muscles but just the way he stood was hot. She felt insane for thinking such a thing, but it was impossible not to. He was so cute. He had one hand in his front pocket, a drink in the other hand, and just a plaid flannel layered over another plaid flannel. His eyes and smile were lost in the dark, but she could picture it. The light evergreen color that was simply her new favorite color along with the pinkest most adorable lips curling across his face and making dimples in his cheeks that would make the Grand Canyon jealous of their depth.

“I think he would probably die if you interrupted,” she snickered.

Briefly, she entertained the idea. She could ask how Harry was doing on his homework, but that wasn’t the best party talk in the world (even if she did want to know). But she was still a little nervous, especially outside class, their walk, and even their study not-quite date to chat with him about anything. A party was more than likely his element. She could see why. Girls were surrounding him ogling very much the same things that she probably ogled on her way to math class. He was easy to talk to, sweet, and of course very handsome.

She shook her head. “Do they have s’mores?” She asked suddenly.

Allie spit her drink back into her cup and laughed. “Jesus Christ,” Allie rolled her eyes. “No; college-students don’t have s’mores at a party.”

She frowned. “I feel like this party would be a lot better if it did,” she grumbled.

Allie wrapped her arm over her shoulder. “Don’t ever change, please,” she kissed her cheek. She laughed lightly.

“If we had a party with a fire, I promise there would be s’mores,” she was very decisive. “It seems sinful to not have them.”

“Hey, love.”

She felt her whole body stiffen and somehow soften at the same time. They both turned to his voice and now she could see in the firelight, that the red colors of his flannel contrasted so sharply with his eyes. The green seemed to amplify—even in the dark. “Hi, Harry,” she smiled sweetly.

“Didn’t know y’would be here.”

“Yeah...uh... this is my best friend and roommate Allie,” she gestured to the girl beside her. “She invited me,” she explained.

“Hi, Harry,” Allie held her hand out. “Heard lots about you. And seen you around a lot,” she said knowingly.

“Hi, Allie,” he said sweetly shaking her hand politely. “Thanks for bringing her,” he grinned winking at her flirtatiously. “Can I steal her from you?” he asked. “If s’alright with you,” he turned back to her, looking into her eyes so deeply she swore he was reading her mind. Not that there were any other thoughts than Harry, Harry, Harry.

“Listen Harry,” Allie said squaring her shoulders.

“Oh my God, Al,” she shoved her back a bit. “Don’t.”

Harry took a step away and looked back at Allie nervously. “This is my best friend,” Allie said with the third drink doing most of the talking.

“Allie!” She hissed.

“I love her so much,” tipsy-Allie was very loving and adoring. A bit flighty too. If she didn’t have a rush of alcohol spinning her blood quickly through her, she might have been a little less aggressive.

“I see,” Harry smiled. “I will take really good care of her Allie. I promise. Y’have nothing t’worry ‘bout,” he shoved a hand back in his pocket. He looked at her shyly, knowing that Harry was also talking directly to her and not just her tipsy best friend. “I should have asked though,” he said with a smile. “D’you...want t’hang out a bit?” He asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“How polite,” Allie snickered. Her smile faded rapidly as she glared back at Harry. If she wasn’t so focused on him, she might have missed the way he gulped nervously. “Don’t break her heart, Harry,” she pointed accusingly at him.

“Allie, enough!” She pressed a hand over her face.

“Don’t leave without me, either. I’ll be with my friends,” she said and flitted away as if there was nothing abnormal about her behavior.

“I’m so sorry about her,” she whispered still with a hand over her face. Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’okay. S’good she cares ‘bout you so much,” he nodded. “I agree completely,” he assured her. “M’really glad t’see you. I was so surprised and distracted...I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have asked first t’steal y’away...” he glanced at her full cup. “Don’t like your drink?” He asked.

“Um...no, well. Kind of. I’m a little wary of accepting it from someone I don’t know.”

Harry didn’t try to talk her out of how she felt which made her heart flutter more. “S’a good point...d’you want t’walk to the bar down the road?” He asked.

“I’d have to leave Allie,” she smirked. “Not sure I want to put that on someone else.”

“Hold on,” he said and rushed off to the house. It was only a couple minutes, if that. But he reappeared with a can in his hand. “I pulled it out of the fridge when the kid was turned,” he smirked.

She giggled. “My hero,” she laughed and sipped it without fear.

“So... d’you want t’go...find some place quieter t’talk?”

She glanced at the house. “Is there somewhere to talk?” She asked.

“Yeah... m’friend Niall and his friends are hosting. He’s got a keypad lock on his door, and I know the code t’his bedroom.”

“You always try to get girls into your friend’s room?” She asked quirking an eyebrow at him while sipping her drink. He chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’nothing like that, love. Jus’ want some privacy.”

“Well, that’s fine by me, even by the fire, it’s chilly out here.”

“You’re cold? Here,” he pulled off the top flannel and draped it on her shoulders then put a hand on her lower back to guide her back toward the house. She could feel the stares of others on them as they meandered back. “S’not even winter yet. S’gonna be tough on your southern blood,” he smiled.

She smiled. “My parents are from here. I think there’s some northerner in me yet. Just got to get it out of hibernation.”

Harry chuckled. “You’ll still need a coat, love,” he promised.

If Harry was going to offer his own clothing to her, she wasn’t sure she’d want to bring her own coat at all.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #my friend's toyota

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riacte · 9 months

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🥁 Welcome to the first ever "Choose an unhinged Renchanting moment" ✨ALL STARS EDITION✨!!! 🥁

In which winners of the previous nine (!!) polls and the Last Life burning tower scene will battle it out for ULTIMATE UNHINGED RENCHANTING MOMENT!! Deliberately made to cross over from 2023 to 2024 to wish for a new year full of Renchanting <3

If you don't want to read my lengthy and dramatic sports guy commentary you can skip to the poll right at the end.

Now, let's introduce our beloved competitors! With some clips sponsored by @ani-craft, thank you as always <3

Starting from Round 1, the OG, the beginning of this series in Feb 2023— congrats to "Ren calling Maidtyn "very very sexy" completely unprovoked"!. Now, fellow Tumblr users, this is a historical moment because the Maidtyn trend was the Tumblr response to Martyn being active on Tumblr, and it snowballed into the Mint Mistletoes of MCC19 wearing skins of maid dresses (and a butler suit). This is the tangible impact of the Tumblr fan community on MCC. And of course it's about maid dresses.

Round 1 was quickly followed up by Round 2, and narrowly winning by FOUR votes is... [drumroll] "r/place (2022) when Martyn helped place a pixel of blush on RK Ren"!. Truly a chaotic moment that somehow became a highlight even in the overall chaos of those few days.

But the numbers really peaked in Round 3, aka. the Limited Life edition when Martyn's lore stream repeatedly dropped bombs on us. 100% of these moments are from Martyn, by the way. But which unhinged moment was the most unhinged? Which moment will win like Martyn? Unsurprisingly, the most popular option are those two words that basically sum it up— "UNGUIDED HAND". An unhinged moment that won with a whopping 404 out of 1913 votes.

Things did not calm down after Limited Life. Some might say the moments only became more unhinged. 2.5 months after LimLife ended, Round 4 began. Most of these moments are also from Martyn. Most unhinged of all: "Martyn declaring in a low voice: 'Third Life never ended for me'." Yeah it sure didn't, buddy.

Fast forward to September 2023. Treebark Week 2023! Surely the perfect moment for a poll! Also, I need to add that I was so excited about Round 5 that I posted it before TBW ended and... let's say it immediately got worse the day after I posted the poll. My hubris for assuming it was the end... Anyways, Martyn's Tumblr shenanigans kick in once again. Congrats to "Martyn saying nothing about an ask that claims his character is in love with Ren", which also ended up being a significant post to Scurvyblr. For reasons.

Two months after TBW, the pining gets exponentially worse. And I do mean exponentially. Enter Round 6, which has a lot of insane moments, but there was one clear winner, a moment that swept with 32% of the votes— everybody clap and cheer for "Martyn's 50 word 3L AU drabble - "Luck be with ye.... Hand"!! At the time of writing, that post has 4.1k notes. Martyn's just like us. He's writing fanfiction and that's so real of him.

Merely ten days later, fires are crackling, demons are giggling— it's the Decked Out open day! And we got a Renchanting feast! Round 7 emerged from That Iconic Burning Stone Box and was dedicated to moments the stream day. With 39% of the votes, the unhinged moment that swept was "Ren to Martyn: You have very fine lips there and a wonderful neck for kissing". Honorable mentions go to Martyn's Twitch chat (for surviving), Martyn's viewers (for clipping it with varying degrees of "what did he just say??"), and of course, False (for locking them in and kickstarting whatever the improv demon roleplay was).

A few weeks later, the flames have died down— or have they? Round 8 enters with a steel chair and Ren has more unhinged moments now. Martyn's Tumblr takes home another win with "Martyn reblogging a post that calls Ren his “Minecraft boyfriend”!! This is the third win that's from Martyn's Tumblr blog. You love to see it.

Last but not the least, Round 9 from last week! It's finally Ren's turn to dominate. Our winner is.... "Ren mentions going to sleep and dreaming of Martyn’s 'beautiful, beautiful eyes'"!! Appropriately clipped with the caption "Insane".

But that's not all! In Round 1 + 2, I purposefully excluded the altar scene and the burning tower scene because I felt those two would sweep. Now, I think the altar scene is still untouchable but the burning tower seems almost normal now. (As normal as an unhinged moment could be.)

A new unhinged moment has appeared! Challenger approaching! Last Life Ren purposefully sets his tower on fire after knowing Martyn is watching him and Martyn runs to save him while screaming "Ren, what are you doing to yourself! Stop burning yourself!".

Okay, okay, my dramatic commentary is done. Hey, I'm not a Renchanting fan for nothing. Here's the poll. Have fun :D

Much love to all of you <3 here's to another year of unhinged Renchanting moments!

(Also sorry the r/place should be in 2022 not 2021)

#renchanting #treebark #polls #rendog #inthelittlewood #trafficblr #life series #traffic series #i spent like 40 mins writing the commentary lmao #im dramatic it runs in my blood #also i genuinely have no idea what to vote for #so focused on making this poll i forgot i have to vote #RENCHANTING SWEEP!!!!! bc it's all renchanting anyway!!!

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ladykailitha · 2 months

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I am always on the hunt for my next story as I like to have four or five stories going on at the same (being able to have multiple stories going so that I always have something to post really helps with the anxiety like you wouldn't believe.)

And I think I have found my next one. With everyone doing Olympic stories I thought that I too, would throw my hat in the ring.

Back when I first started writing for Stranger Things (like September of '22 way back) I had this story I was posting on AO3 anonymously. The fear of writing for a fandom I hadn't seen the source material of left me terrified (I still worry about from time to time) had my anxiety going a billion miles an hour.

It was about Steve deciding to coach Eddie on getting on the swim team his final senior year so that teachers would be more lenient on his grades. And in return Eddie would help with Steve's trauma of having Barb die in his pool.

I ended up abandoning the work because the characters all wrong and I just started to hate it. It only had something like 34 kudos and 121 views after six chapters. It was not good.

So I am cannibalizing the plot for my next story.

Bit of an age gap. Eddie 18 and Steve is 24 when they meet but they don't get together until after the Olympics making them 20 and 26 respectively.

Steve was going to be Michael Phelps in world where he doesn't exist (shhhh) He had come in fifth his first Olympics as a fourteen year old. His next Olympics had him winning several medals, so many that the phrases "world record" and "foremost swimmer of his time" were tossed around.

But all that changed when he had an accident in his first match in his third Olympics where the bounding board slipped out from under him as he went to dive into the water, hitting his head and nearly drowning.

Leaving him with migraines and a fear of large bodies of water. So now he teaches swimming to little kids in kiddie pools and for the older ones, he uses an endless pool. But he steers clear of the main pool and if he has to use it, he has his assistant coach Robin get in the water for him. It isn't ideal but it works.

Enter Eddie Munson. Eddie who used to swim in middle school but after his mom died and his dad went to jail, he got sent to live with his uncle, Wayne. But because Wayne was working long hours at the plant Eddie was forced to give it up in high school.

Hopper caught him dealing weed and pulled to have Eddie do community service at the rec center, mopping floors, gather towels for the laundry, refilling soap dispensers.

Eddie didn't mind because it meant that he had free access to the pool any time he wanted.

One day, Steve comes in early because he's getting a new group of nuggets for his swim class when he sees Eddie doing a near flawless butterfly stroke.

They talk and Steve finds out that Eddie just didn't have the same opportunities Steve did otherwise he probably would have been in Steve's last Olympics. The next Olympics are two years away and Steve wants to train Eddie for them.

Eddie turns him down at first until on the last day of his community service and he realizes he'll lose access to the pool. So he decides to let Steve coach him because he figures he'll at least get two free years of pool time and then after he doesn't make it, Steve and him can go their separate ways.

Only not only does Eddie get into the Olympics he starts get gold in his events.

Someone plants weed on his to discredit him when they find out he used to deal with hopes of getting him disqualified but it backfires and the culprit is exposed as the one that sabotaged Steve four years ago.

Then after Eddie wins his fifth gold in his last event, Steve and Eddie kiss about it.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #olympics #olympic steddie

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wardenparker · 5 months

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 12

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Pregnancy. labor, childbirth, health emergency, hospital stay, talk of living wills and things going wrong, traumatic birth, mentions of death/possibility of death, reassurance, emotional hurt/comfort. Summary: Months after going public with your relationship with your soulmate, you and Marcus get the phone call you've been waiting for: Sydney has gone into labor! Notes: The migraines and the pain aren't gone but the story continues! This week is a rollercoaster, my darlings. I hope you enjoy 🧡

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

The call came late on a Saturday night during the first full week of September. Busy getting ready to go out for a later-than-usual date, you had jumped straight up in the air when your phone started ringing. The words 'labor' and 'hospital' got you and Marcus moving instantly, and you were off to meet Juan and Sydney at Sibley Memorial Hospital faster than a heartbeat.

“Now, it’s gonna be awhile.” Marcus warns you, even as he speeds towards the hospital. “I might have to come back to get you some clothes.”

"As long as it doesn't take as long as Junie did to be born," you joke, trying to dispel your own tensions even as you fidget in your seat. "Mom was in labor for twenty-six hours. I think Syd will just reach in and pull the baby out before she waits that long."

“She’ll be yelling that she has a dinner menu to put out.” Marcus snorts, understanding how frustrated Juan has been when his wife refused to slow down until the very end.

"If she doesn't have her recipe notebook out within an hour of giving birth, I'll be astonished." She never slows down, your best friend, and you adore her despite it being worrying sometimes. At least you got her to agree to the more-than-generous New Parent Leave package the inn has adopted. They're both technically on your payroll so you know they'll be well taken care of.

“The new sous chef she hired to help the old one step into her shoes has worked out really well so far.” Marcus knows that talking about the inn will help you focus. Keep you from worrying yourself up into a state until you can lay your eyes on Sydney.

"She needed another set of hands anyway." Just because you know what he's doing doesn't mean you're not grateful, and you fidget in your seat before glancing down at your phone for the thousandth time. No new texts. You just have to remind yourself that that is a good thing. "Hopefully this new guy will work out and she'll keep him on long term."

“Yeah, it’s nearly a fully house every night in the restaurant.” Business in the inn might have taken a slight hit from the negative press, but the food was still bringing in the locals.

"Thank god for that." Over the last few months your bookings haven't been too stellar, but you've been making up for it with restaurant patrons and special event bookings. At least you had room enough to accommodate Marcus's parents when they came up in July. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if we'd lost restaurant sales along with bookings."

“I’m just happy that the ‘anonymous sources’ have tapered off lately.” The accusations are still out there but you and Marcus have been laying low for now.

“What I wouldn’t give for two seconds with our sniveling exes.” It’s obvious that it has been Sam and Vanessa feeding things to the gossip columnists, although technically all you have is your say-so. They’re being clever enough to make sure that there is no paper trail and nothing being said that marks them as the obvious source of the negative rumors. “Why do we have to be the better people?” You gripe with a pout. “We could just as easily say made up shit about them. For all we know, they were the ones having an affair and this is a whole situation of they doth protest too much.”

“I don’t think so.” Marcus would love for that to be the case. “That week of the state dinner, he was sick.” He reminds you. “I think Vanessa went over to his house and somehow discovered she’s his soulmate. She told me that she had just found out, not that she just met him.” He theorizes. “And now, they are twisting their own narrative, but I don’t understand why.”

“If they’re trying to discredit Mom through me, it’s not working.” Though your business may have taken a hit, your mother’s first term has been fairly impressive so far. She’s getting her legislation moving at a brisk clip and her focus on the economy is already strong. You sigh, though, pushing out the bad thoughts, and squeeze his hand over the gear shift. “They don’t get to ruin our goddaughter’s birth. That’s not in the cards.”

“Nope.” Marcus made sure to pack the gifts for mother and baby in the car while you were rushing around to get dressed. Both of you are excited. “Doesn’t matter, today is about Sydney and the baby.” He chuckles. “And poor Juan too. I know he’s a wreck right now.”

“He’s so excited and so nervous.” The clock on the dashboard reads ten minutes until midnight and you squeeze his hand again to relieve some of your own nerves. It’s not like you’re the one having a baby. There’s no reason to be nervous, but you are. For your best friend and your goddaughter and for Juan who is like a big brother to you.

“Yes he is.” Marcus tosses you a grin. “I know he’s supposed to be handing out cigars, but I managed to get my hands on a box of very nice ones. When the baby is born, I’m going to give them to him. To celebrate the important milestones with.”

“They’re the ones your dad smokes, aren’t they?” Beaming that grin right back at him, the conjured memory of the vanilla and spice scent of Matthew Pike’s favorite cigars is easy to conjure. “He’ll love that.”

“I hope so.” Marcus grins. “I can just imagine how proud he’s going to be. He’s going to be crying as he holds his child for the first time.”

“He’s going to be a leaky faucet by the time we get to the hospital,” you predict with an affection laugh. “They deserve this. They already love that little girl so much and they’re going to be amazing parents.”

“Yes they are.” He can’t help but be a little envious, although it’s not a sharp feeling because he knows it will happen for the two of you soon enough. He will be content with cuddling his new goddaughter.

There’s little traffic at this time of night, and before you know it you and Marcus are parking and heading inside to track down the room number that Juan texted to you. Sydney and Juan’s families will be alerted when the baby is born, but it was their wish to have you and Marcus in hand for the birth. You’ll be right there in the delivery room with Syd and Juan while Marcus keeps the families updated in a group chat. You’re co-captains of Team Moral Support and you’re excited for every second of it.

His hand is on your back as you stop in front of the door. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asks with a beaming smile.

“Nervous. Excited. Very ready.” You lean back to steal a kiss, warmed through by the comfort of having him by your side for this enormous step in the lives of your close friends. Your chosen family. “And…I can’t wait until it’s us.”

“Soon enough.” He promises. “Soon enough.” He pushed the door open and knocks with the back of his knuckles. “Knock, knock.”

“Oh thank god!” Comes the response from inside, and you’re laughing at the relief in Sydney’s voice when you and Marcus push inside. “The Godparent Brigade has arrived! Here to pump you up, handle your relatives, and fetch your sushi after the little peanut has arrived on the scene.”

“Get the sushi before anything else.” Sydney demands, rubbing her stomach and nearly salivating at the thought.

"I've already got your order in my phone, and Marcus will jet out to get it. You won't have to wait at all, honey." It doesn't surprise you in the least that Syd is thinking about one of her favorite foods, but you move over to her side in the bed as the two men hug and give your best friend a squeeze on her shoulder. "How are you doing? Do you want me to go strong arm a nurse for some ice chips?"

“Juan already has two cups of them, letting them melt down.” She grins at you and then winces when another contraction hits.

It takes everything you've got not to wince or cringe along with her, knowing that it won't do a single lick of good and won't help her feel any better. "How far apart are they?" You ask instead, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles.

“Twelve minutes, forty-seven seconds.” Juan tells you as he looks down at his watch and then back at his wife. “We are down from fifteen minutes.”

"Getting closer and closer!" Practically squeaking with excitement, you can see the same light in Juan's eyes despite the worry lines in his furrowed brow. He just wants everything to go well, and you can't blame him there.

Sydney huffs out a small laugh, knowing you are doing exactly what she had wanted you to. Cheerlead for her. “Did you happen to bring those hard candies?” She asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes!" Ready to dig into your purse immediately, you swirl around and grab your bag from where you had dropped it to one side when you came in the room. "I've got sour lemon and orange, and I've got the sweet strawberry ones. What are you feeling at the moment?"

“Sweet.” She practically moans the word and reaches out to you with grabby hands. “Don’t hold out on me now.”

"Here we go, babe." One of the candies is deposited in Syd's outstretched hands and a few more get tucked into the pockets of your cardigan to make sure you have one on hand for her at no more than a moment's notice. "Plenty more where that came from, I promise."

“You are the best.” She moans, popping the candy into her mouth and rolling her eyes in pleasure.

"Now how are you doing, Dad?" With Syd moaning over her small treat, you turn your attention to Juan.

“I’m hanging in there, but I think I forgot my bag.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Too busy making sure the car seat was secure.”

"Babe, you have a key to their place, right?" If not, you'll pull out your keys and send Marcus back to Alexandria with your spare house key instead. You would go yourself, but you vowed not to leave Sydney's side once you got to the hospital. The kind of vow that is definitely life or death and she will hold you to.

“Juan gave me one.” Marcus nods, and agrees with your silent plan. “I’ll run and get the bag. Pick up some coffee that’s better than the shit they serve here, yeah?”

"I have a feeling we're going to need it." Juan nods and claps Marcus on the shoulder gratefully.

"I'll call you if anything changes," you promise him, turning back to your own soulmate. "You're amazing, sweetheart. Thank you."

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassures you, leaning in to kiss your lips before hugging Juan and bussing Sydney’s cheek. “Ask for the good drugs, mama.” He teases with a wink, wanting her to laugh.

"You bet your ass!" She groans, wincing more heavily with this contraction than she had with the one before. "Get back here fast, Marcus. Speed. Lots!"

“I’ll use my badge if I get pulled over!” He calls back as he rushes out of the room.

"He'll be back in no time." Realistically you know it will take quite a lot of time, in fact, but your job tonight is not to be realistic. It is to be positive and upbeat. To keep spirits high. "I think Malachi is going to win the betting pool." You grin and stand up by the head of the bed with Sydney, right there to hold her hand if she needs you. "He had Monday – tomorrow, technically – as the day, but I don't think anyone had Sunday."

“Juan…” Sydney smiles. “Take a nap, baby. I know you are exhausted. You were about to go to sleep when my labor started. Birdie is here, so get some sleep.”

He raises an eyebrow, knowing his wife is in pain, but also knowing that a short nap will ensure he is at his best to help her. "We'll take shifts," he compromises, eyeing you just as much as his wife. "So someone is always here holding your hand and timing your contractions. Short naps only. I don't want to miss anything."

“I promise I won’t push her out without you.” She teases, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. “Go, it might be your last nap for the next eighteen years.”

"I love you, Warrior Queen." There are more kisses and more sweet words, and finally Juan crosses the compact hospital room to curl up on the Dad Bench and try to get at least a little bit of sleep before his baby girl enters the world.

“I don’t want to be horrible through this.” She admits quietly. “I’m hoping the labor progresses so I get an epidural quickly.”

"There is not a single person who is going to even blink an eye if you are upset during this labor," you promise her. She pats the side of her bed and you perch on the edge of the mattress, holding her hand all the while. "If you wanted or needed to rage through the whole thing, we would stand by your right to do so. But we'll also stand by your choice to do things any other way. Whatever way is going to be the best possible experience of bringing your first baby into this world."

“Will you do me a favor?” She asks quietly, eyeing Juan as he turns into the couch and gives you his back. He’s already snoring lightly so she’s not worried about him overheating. “If something happens…..” This is the first time that she’s ever said anything out loud and her eyes are anxious. “I’ve signed the paperwork already, but if something happens, I don’t want to stay on machines.” She whispers. “Promise me that you’ll help him let go. And if it’s me or the baby…you know what I want you to choose.”

“Nothing is going to happen.” As firmly and sternly as you can, you squeeze your best friend’s fingers in yours and bite back the instant tears that spring but behind your eyes. The fact that this conversation is even necessary is heartbreaking, but women die in childbirth every single day. Nothing is going to happen. You almost shake with determination but that isn’t what she needs right now. The person who means the most to you in the world besides Marcus is looking you in the face and asking you to be loyal to her. And you will. “I promise.” Two small, devastating words. But if she’s thought this far ahead, she’s also had another thought. “You have a will somewhere?”

“In the safe at home.” She nods, relieved that you are not fighting her and it’s obvious on her face. She had expected an argument, she knows she would have gotten one from Juan, which is why she chose you as her medical POA. “The papers are in an envelope in my bag.” She nods towards the incredibly organized hospital bag.

“Okay.” You nod, still holding her hands tightly. “I love you. I will honor your wishes. Now tell me which onesies you packed to bring her home in so you can get excited again.”

“All of them.” Sydney snorts, only half kidding. “There are twelve that I couldn’t decide between, so I brought them all. Figured we would decide which one looks best when we are holding her.”

“We can absolutely decide later.” She’s already a little sweaty at the top of her forehead from the contractions and you nudge a cup of melted ice chips toward her just to cool her down. “Do you have a top three?”

“The ones in the right hand pocket.” She takes the cup and starts to gulp down the cool water.

In the right hand pocket of Sydney’s neatly packed hospital bag, three folded baby onesies await their new owner: one from her mother in law covered in little surfboards and ocean waves and sunglasses to represent how much Juan had loved surfing when he was out in California. One from Syd’s sister AnnaLeigh with Once Upon a Time…a Heroine was Born written out like the beginning of an illuminated fairytale, and one from you and Marcus emblazoned with the logo of Syd’s favourite hockey team to get her baby girl started out right. “They’re fantastic choices,” you hum, looking at the clothes with misty eyes.

“You see why I couldn’t choose?” She laughs, shaking her head and setting down the rest of the ice chips to melt. Seriously not understanding why they just wouldn’t give her water. Labor is fucking thirsty work.

“I think I like AnnaLeigh’s,” you admit, before tucking them back into the bag as carefully as they had been before. “But we’ll see how she feels about them when she’s here. Who knows? She might come out the chillest baby in the world and then we now she matches Juanito’s surfer phase.”

“Juan actually likes that one too.” She admits with a grin. “He’s so fucking excited for this baby to come. He swears if he could carry her for me, he would.”

“He totally would have if he could.” The grin on your face breaks wider, and you sit back on the edge of Syd’s bed with her. “So would Marcus. In a heartbeat.”

“How did we get so fucking lucky?” Her eyes mist up, overwhelmed with the beautiful thought of both of you so happy and cared for with your soulmates.

“I truly have no idea.” The mist in her eyes halts for just a moment as another contraction hits, but it doesn’t fade. It doesn’t dim. Syd’s happiness is true, and you’re so grateful to see it. “Thank god they get along though. We’d be screwed if our soulmates weren’t friends.”

Panting, she leans back and rubs her belly. “We would make them be friends.” She jokes. “The most awkward small talk over beers until they find a common interest.”

“Lucky for us?” You sit forward and help her readjust her pillows from where they had fallen out of place. “They’re basically as inseparable as we are again.”

"Lucky for us." She agrees, leaning back with a sigh and smiling at you. "Thanks. You know what I need before I do sometimes."

“For most of the time we’ve known each other, I’ve been shocked that we aren’t soulmates.” At some point in your teenage years you had discussed it, but your appendicitis scar already existed and she has never born that. “I gotta be honest, I used to be bummed that we’re not. But when you met Juan, I understood why.”

She kisses the air in your direction. "Because you had Marcus waiting on you, too." She reminds you. "We are better than soulmates. We are sisters by choice."

“I would have waited forever for him.” She gets the same air kiss from you, and you descend into giggles together. “We really are lucky.”

The giggles are interrupted by another contraction, making Sydney hiss and squeeze her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through it. Coming out as more of a whine until the pain passes again. "They- They are getting closer." She huffs when she can talk again.

“We’re down to eight minutes and sixteen seconds apart,” you tell her, checking your watch. “You’re doing awesome, Syd.”

“I can’t believe it.” She grunts when she gets a foot in her rib. “I don’t know whether to be impressed that it’s going so fast, or cry because I’m not further along.”

"You're allowed to be both, you know." Frankly, you're both. She is progressing quickly but you know she would rather have just arrived fully dilated and ready to go. "Just remember. At least she's not dragging her heels like Junie did."

“I don’t know how your mom did it.” She huffs, thinking about your mother and how excited you had been for a younger sister. “She was still working while in labor.”

"My mother is some kind of weird combination of feral cryptid being and absolute machine," you chuckle, shaking your head. "If I'm trying to do bookings and make staff schedules during labor, please slap me."

Huffing out a laugh, she grunts and rubs her belly again on the side. “Done.” She pants. “But get me my notebook.” She points to her bag. “I just thought about a salted Carmel mocha crème brûlée.”

“I am only agreeing to this because it will take your mind off the pain.” Still, you dig into the pocket opposite the onesies she has earmarked as favorites and come out with her battered and beaten recipe notebook. “It sounds like it will be nice to send to your sous chef.”

“It sounds like something I want to eat right now.” She groans, flipping open the tatty cover and laying it on her baby bump to quickly write down her idea.

“You’re going to be a little distracted and busy for a while,” you remind her. Still you can’t help but grin at her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she scribbles.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.” She moans pitifully after finishing the notes. “I was in the middle of getting a snack.” The pout that pushes her lips out would be comical under different circumstances but she’s horribly disappointed to have not gotten to eat before being bustled into the car by her frazzled husband.

“What was snack time tonight?” It is absolutely always the way to distract her when she’s feeling bad, and tonight is All Sydney All the Time, so you’re focused in one her.

She groans and whimpers slightly at the food she had to leave on the counter. “Cottage cheese with fresh peach compote and balsamic glaze.” She pouts even more. “It was going to be amazing. But I had to tell Juan that I was cramping.”

“I’ll make sure there’s plenty in your fridge waiting for you when you get home.” You can promise her that, along with their fridge and freezer being fully stocked with ready-made meals and easy to use ingredients that should last more than two weeks. Between you and Marcus and Malachi and her staff, you’ve all been secretly helping prep for baby’s arrival for a week already. Even Agent Bailey made a contribution to the frozen meals and added some veggies from her garden.

“Thank you.” She smiles you softly. “I can’t believe that when I leave, I’m going to be holding her.” She admits with a grin.

“She’s almost here.” As if to affirm it, another swift kick to Sydney’s abdomen is brutally obvious, and you grin. “And she’s excited about it.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Broken by contractions and the quickening of their pace. Sydney trying to be quiet as she pants through them to let Juan sleep.

Checking your watch again and finding nearly two hours have gone by, you tilt your head at your best friend and hand her another strawberry candy. "Marcus should be back soon, and your contractions are barely more than five minutes apart now. I think it's time to wake Dad up and call for the nurse."

Marcus has Juan’s bag in the backseat and he had cancelled the reservations he had made for tonight. They aren’t going to be used, and he had apologized profusely. Still, he stops at the inn to run up to the small gun safe, using the biometric lock to open it and reveal a small ring box. He had been planning to propose tonight, and he still can, it will just look different now.

"It's happening, isn't it?" On his one night shift per week, Malachi had seen you and Marcus hustle out the backdoor of the inn with bags in hand and seen not long after when Marcus reappeared in a hurry. Now he is waiting at the back door once again, but this time to snag Marcus before he can disappear in to the night.

“It is.” Marcus nods with a huge grin spreading across his face. “Juan forgot his bag. I’ll text you when she’s born.” All the staff are invested so he will be sure to let them know. “You’ve got the inn?” He checks, although he knows what the other man will say.

"That baby is your godchild." Malachi smiles surprisingly softly. "This inn is mine."

“I know.” He reaches out and squeezes Malachi’s arm. “Birdie trusts you with her most important treasure.” He praises.

"Not quite." He winks at the other man, considering him a friend now after many months of back and forth, and grins. "She'd never leave me alone with you."

Marcus snorts, well aware of the man’s proclivity to flirt. He matches that grin. “That’s because she knows how persuasive you are.” He jokes, winking at him playfully. “Besides. You are still yearning for your soulmate and will only be happy when he breezes into your life like he’s always been there.”

"Check all those doctors for my ankle tat, handsome." Malachi teases, shooing Marcus toward the door. "A man in scrubs is better than a man in uniform."

“I will.” He gives Malachi a salute and hustles out of the door to speed back to the hospital as quickly as he can.

It's on the heels of a nurse when Marcus comes back into the room, with Juan standing at Syd's side holding tight to your hand while you have been banished to the corner of the room so the nurse can do her work. "It's almost time!" You tell him excitedly, wrapping your arms around him the second he makes his way over to her.

“Holy shit, I made it just in time then.” He can’t believe how fast it’s gone, he had expects at least half a day or more of labor.

"Apparently Constance does not want to wait." The shine of tears in your eyes isn't going anywhere now that you're about to head to the delivery room with Sydney and Juan, but you hug Marcus fiercely. "And I can't wait to meet her. I'm so glad you made it in time."

“Me too.” Marcus presses his lips to yours, letting you cling to him for a second before you pull back. “Does she want me there for Juan or should I stay here?”

"Stay here and hold down the fort for us? She's going to be exhausted when it's all over but she's nervous about everything being okay in the room while we're gone." Wishing so dearly that this was your night only makes you smile because you know that it's only a matter of time.

“Absolutely.” Marcus nods and looks over at Juan and Sydney. “I’ve got everything here. You go meet your daughter.”

"We'll be back soon." Juan is beaming, practically hopping around, and looks like he might jump out of his own skin if given the chance. "She's almost here!"

Marcus laughs at the bubbly excitement, watching as the nurses wheel her bed out, with you and Juan right on their heels as she’s transferred over to the delivery room. “And now…” Marcus pulls out the ring box and flicks it open to look down at the gorgeous ring. “We wait.”

It's over an hour before anyone comes back into the room, and when it happens it's just you alone with a look of exhausted panic on your face. "Everyone's okay." The first words out of your mouth, but you murmur them while shaking slightly and bolting into his arms, so it isn't terribly reassuring.

That doesn’t sound reassuring, coupled with the desperate way you cling to him. Marcus folds you into his embrace tightly.

“She was breech…” Sniffling through the explanation and clinging to him even harder is about the best you can do right now. “And they couldn’t get her to turn. Then—then they did an ultrasound and figured out that—” The shudder that runs through you is all-encompassing. “She had her umbilical cord around her neck. So they had to do an emergency c-section.” The shaky breath you exhale as you lean back is enough to make him quake right along with you, but he holds you steady. “And then the placenta ruptured after they brought the baby out and—and Syd just kept bleeding—”

“Oh shit.” Marcus whispers in horror, his heart plummeting to his feet and he swallows harshly. “But they are both okay?” He had heard you say they were, but he needs the confirmation.

“They’re both okay.” You can barely manage to nod, tears spilling over for yet another time. “They took Constance to the NICU and Juan is with Syd in recovery until they okay her to come back here.”

“Thank God.” Marcus breathes out softly. “Hopefully Syd is asleep? I know she would be frantic if Constance isn’t with her after that.”

“Awake, but exhausted.” You’re still gripping his leather jacket, refusing to let go. It had been warding off the chill in the air conditioned room but now it’s your life line. “They let her hold the baby for a few minutes before they whisked her off to the NICU.”

“How is she?” Marcus asks quietly, worrying about the baby. “Could we sit with her in the NICU?”

“The doctor said not to worry.” Though you sniffle again, clearly very concerned. “That she’s seen babies in far worse condition come through it totally fine. But they wanted her in a place where they can help immediately if they need to.” Two tears leak from your eyes but you brush them away with the back of your wrist and try to breathe. “They’ll come down and tell us in a little while if she can come be with Sydney or if we’ll be allowed to visit the NICU. For now we just gotta—we gotta stay put. That’s why Juan wanted me to come tell you.”

“Then that is what we will do.” Marcus promises, rubbing your back gently. “I’ll wait to pick up her sushi, hmm?” He wants you to decide that is the best option because he’s not leaving you right now. Not for anything in the world. He’s already reached out to his team to let them know he’s out of pocket for right now.

“Until after she gets some sleep.” You nod against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist for a sturdy anchor. “This is…not a celebrating time. The only thing worth celebrating is the fact that they’re okay.”

The ring he had planned to give you tonight burns a hole in his pocket, but he hums in agreement, pressing his lips to your head. “I completely agree.” He murmurs softly. “We will just make sure that they are in perfect health.”

“I love you so much.” The sheer relief of having him in your arms now after nearly losing your best friend — both of them meaning more to you than life itself — is unspeakable. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. “I think I’m going to text the group that mom and baby are resting comfortably and we will make the announcement later?” He asks. “I don’t want people to bug Juan or worry.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.” The last that the baby arrival group chat had heard, Syd was being wheeled to the delivery room. They deserved an update.

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and wash your face, sweetheart?” Marcus urges. “Change into your comfy clothes and I’ll send out a text.”

“I’m too anxious to sleep, but I’ll wash up and change.” It seems like it will make you feel less frazzled, and therefore more on your game to help your friends. “But if you need to lie down, you should. I’ll wake you up when the nurse comes in with news.”

“I won’t sleep.” Marcus is too focused on you, too in tune with your nervousness to ever nap. Not right now.

“Then change with me and settle in,” you suggest instead, knowing that if your positions were switched you would feel the same. “It might be a long night.”

Marcus nods. “I can do that.” He promises, rubbing your shoulders and moving towards the bags. “If you want to take a quick shower, no one would blame you.”

“I think I’ll save that trick for refreshing myself in a few hours from now.” Predicting that you’ll need it, you kiss him now and slip off to the adjacent bathroom with your overnight bag to change.

Marcus pulls out his phone and calls down to the florist department that is on the ground floor of the hospital, wanting Sydney to come back to a lovely bouquet.

Wash your face. Change your clothes. Try not to break out crying again that you almost had to put that conversation with Syd a few hours ago into action. By the time you come out of the bathroom in Marcus’s old FBI Academy sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, your shoulders are drooping and your feet are dragging but at least you’ve stopped crying.

“Oh sweetheart.” While you had washed your face, Marcus had changed out in the room. “Come lay down with me on the sofa/bench thing.” He urges, reaching for you again.

“The Dad Bench.” Curling up into his side immediately, you lay your head on his shoulder and breathe out another sigh. “After you left, she made me promise to make the decision if something went wrong,” you tell him quietly. “Juan would never be able to…and she knew…that if she made me promise. I’d do what she wanted.”

He had been stroking your arm, fingers freezing as he absorbs the implication of that statement. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” He closes his eyes and sends up a prayer of thanks and continued good health to whomever might hear him. He doesn’t wish that on anyone, least of all his soulmate and one of his best friends.

"It almost did." Tears come again, fresh and few, but they are definitely there. "The only other time I've heard Juan pray in Spanish was when his mother had a heart attack a few years ago."

“I would be praying in every fucking language I could if it were you.” Marcus whispers. “To every God ever imagined.”

"Everyone is okay." Having to remind yourself of it fairly often seems...fairly reasonable, all things considered. You had stood at your best friend's side and looked her and her soulmate in the eyes as the doctors worked to control her bleeding. As she lay on a table with the distinct reality that those would be the last moments of her life.

But no. Everyone is okay. And soon they'll send her downstairs so she can rest comfortably, and they'll bring little Constance to her to have joyous moments with her family instead of fearful ones.

“Everyone is okay.” He echoes softly. “But…I asked the nurse for a rollaway bed for you.” The nurse had slipped into the room to check on you while you had been in the bathroom, before he had changed. You had just walked into the other room and closed the door, in fact. He had thought it would be best to prepare for you to not leave this room anytime soon.

"Did she say anything else?" No news is good news most of the time when you're in a hospital, but if Marcus got to speak to a nurse you want to know everything.

“She said that momma and baby should be in here by the time visitor hours start.” He couldn’t get a timeframe beyond that, but he took what he could get.

"That's..." Turning your wrist to check your face, the dial reads just after four in the morning. "That's about four hours. And I know Juan won't be down without them. So...I guess we should settle in?"

“Of course.” He doesn’t move, just continuing to hold you. Feeling you relax against him slowly.

"I guess...rain check on date night sex?" You huff weakly, trying for a joke. By this time of night on a date night you would normally be fast asleep – and very naked – in each other's arms.

“A rain check with you is better than any legal tender.” He jokes back, smiling softly even though he had hoped it would be engaged sex.

"What a night." The longer that you sit with him, the calmer you get. It's such an enormous thing for you, to have someone to anchor you as well as he does, and you sigh again as you deflate just a little more into his side.

“Not exactly how I imagined the night going.” Marcus admits with a small sigh. He’s not unhappy, he just wishes the birth hadn’t been so traumatic for everyone.

"Tell me what we were going to do tonight." Thinking about absolutely anything else seems like a very good idea right now, and while you know it was already late when you were leaving the apartment, you also know that Marcus had made plans for tonight.

“I had booked us a late table at Kingbird.” He tells you, smiling at the fact that Sydney had pulled the strings to get the reservation. “It was supposed to be the last table of the night.”

"The restaurant at the Watergate?" Your eyebrows raise when you look up at him and you're practically pouting. "I've been dying to try that place."

“I know.” He had asked and there was a list of places, but he had chosen that one to immortalize as special for the two of you. “And booked us a room at the hotel.”

"Shit." The pout on your lips deepens when you realize how much work Marcus had put into the night, only for it to be interrupted. "I'm so sorry, love. We'll have to reschedule everything. It sounds like it would have been beautiful."

“This is more important.” Marcus insists. “Don’t apologize. This is where I want to be, with you.”

"I don't think I could make it through tonight without you." It would be too much to handle on your own. With such deep emotions entangled in every second of the night, without your anchor you might have just flown apart. "I don't like the idea of doing anything without you anymore."

“You would have, sweetheart.” Marcus knows that, you are so damn strong. So much stronger than you ever believe about yourself. “I know you would have, but you don’t have to.” He stresses. “I’ll be here for you. Support you, comfort you. Celebrate your success and mourn your losses with you. I’m right here.”

"There are no losses to mourn tonight." And you'll be thanking every deity out there for any part they may have had in it. And also making sure that you note down the name of Sydney's doctor for your own pregnancies, because that woman worked quickly and thoroughly and without hesitation to make sure that both mother and baby made it through a birth that would have killed them both in decades past.

“We celebrate life.” He agrees softly. “And love. That little girl is loved so much already.”

"She's beautiful." And of course, there's a sniffle again. At least this one is happy and relieved. "Syd's big eyes and Juan's dark hair."

“Juan is going to be miserable when she gets older.” He laughs quietly. “She’s going to be gorgeous.”

"If she's anything like her mom, she'll have her head too far in the clouds to notice any of the boys or girls chasing her," you laugh along with him, remembering Sydney in high school. "Syd never had any clue how sought after she was."

“She was waiting for Juan.” It’s a bit of a romantic stretch, but it could also be the truth. “Plus she was too in love with crème brûlée. No mere man could compare.”

"She was dreaming about a caramel mocha one while you were gone." The maddening fear is starting to subside, finally, and you sink ever more deeply against Marcus on the bench. "I swear I'll make them for her every day for the rest of her life after what happened tonight."

“See?” He smirks to himself. “She loves them and I’ll help you. I can take the next week off, help with the inn and let you focus on Sydney and co?”

"You don't have to do that." It's a lot to ask of him, and you know that even though he has plenty of vacation time, you were planning on taking a trip down to Texas to spend New Years with his parents. "It's a deeply appreciated gesture, though."

“I don’t mind.” He protests, although he had been certain you would not let him do that for you. “I hope you know that.”

"I know, my love." In his lap, your fingers find his and tangle your hands together. "Why don't we wait on that decision until we see how Sydney and the baby are doing? I don't want you to take extra days out when I know you had been wanting to do other things with them in the next few months."

“Alright.” He will do what you want, let you lead this but he won’t let you exhaust yourself trying to carry everything. “Hopefully they will deliver the flowers I ordered before Syd comes back into the room.”

“You ordered flowers?” Sometimes you really feel like the things he does are magic, from small to large the gestures of love and support are always so deep that it seems impossible for him to not be the Superman of emotional support. “Honey, you’re—you’re too good. Too all of us.”

Marcus snorts. “My mother insisted we order flowers from her and dad, before this all went sideways.” He adds. Wanting you to know the context. “But Sydney just went through a traumatic childbirth. Flowers are the least I could do in order to make her feel loved and special.” He had ordered the flowers his mother wanted and then ordered other arrangements, including a welcome bouquet for Constance herself.

“Everyone is okay.” More reassuring this time, the words still come out in a hush and your eyes drop from Marcus’s for a moment before fluttering back up. “Thank you for being you,” you murmur after a moment. Marcus is that supportive and bolstering friend and family member. This is just who he is. And you’re so entirely grateful to have him here with you, especially right now.

“I don’t know if I would thank me for that.” Marcus teases, leaning in and kissing your forehead again. “But you can always count on me, hummingbird.”

“I know I can. And I’m thankful for that.” More than you could ever say. More than any words you have.

“Close your eyes.” He orders softly. He knows you are exhausted and emotionally spent. You need the rest so you can care for Sydney, Juan and the baby when they are back in this room.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll sleep.” Though you’ll try, knowing that the nurse doesn’t expect Sydney or the baby to be able to come down for at least a few hours.

“I know. Just closing them will be good.” He murmurs softly, still rubbing your back when you shift to lay across him. “You’ve been crying.”

“You would have been proud of me,” you murmur, settling against him one more time and shutting your eyes. “I kept it together until after everything happened.” It was shock, probably, but you still managed it. “Therapy is going to be a doozy this week.”

“Yes it will.” He won’t deny that or try to minimize your feelings. “You don’t need to skip it.”

“I’m absolutely not going to skip it.” Not this week, of all weeks. Not at all. The heaviness of the night is tugging at you, not for sleep but for rest, and for the first time you think you actually might be able to calm down fully as long as you can stay in Marcus’s arms.

Humming in approval, he doesn’t speak, letting the silence draw between you and waiting for your breathing to start slowing down.

The nap lasts about two hours. Two hours held tight in Marcus’s arms on that padded bench, and when you shift against him the small sound of noncommittal discomfort and surprise is enough to tell you that he fell asleep too. Good, you think, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Everyone deserves a reset tonight. Even little Constance.

Marcus wakes quietly, as soon as you move, and he slowly remembers that he’s not in your bed. Both of you are at the hospital. He hums and sighs softly, knowing it hadn’t been a long nap, but it will do wonders for the coming hours.

"Hey handsome." The room is quiet and so are you, sitting up to stretch beside him and bring your limbs back to life.

“How did you sleep?” Marcus asks softly, watching you through heavy eyes.

“Better than I thought I would,” you admit, though you have a feeling that’s only because you didn’t sleep deeply enough for nightmares to set in. “You?”

“Pretty good nap.” He yawns. “Although I know I’m going to have to get coffee for all of us.”

Checking your watch, you stretch again and knock against his side with a lopsided grin. “The cafeteria should be open soon. I have a map of the hospital in my bag so you won’t get lost.”

“Just for that, I’ll bring you two coffees.” He groans, standing up and stretching out. “I should get dressed.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only visitor to go get coffee in your jammies.” Far from it, if you had to hazard a guess.

He snorts slightly. “I don’t doubt it. But I would hate to steal any of Juan’s new dad thunder.” He jokes, winking at you.

“Juan will be doing everything in bespoke suits with giant buttons that exclaim New Dad! for everyone he meets.” It’s sweet to think about, now that the fear is mostly past. It won’t wither entirely until you get to see mother and baby, but that should be soon.

“Of course he will.” Marcus laughs. “He’s already got an app on his phone that is just for organizing pictures of the baby.”

“Make sure you get the name of it,” you tease, leaning over to kiss him and getting one last stretch in — right into his arms. “We’ll need that for our kids, I’m sure.”

“You know it.” Marcus grins. “I’ve already downloaded it. It also has a wedding portion of the app. Basically you can upload all your important moments in it.” He doesn’t mention that he had set it up for the proposal that didn’t happen last night.

“You think of everything.” He really does, so it’s barely even an embellishment. At this point you’re just relieved that you can think of small things again instead of the larger, overhanging fear of just a few hours ago.

“Not everything.” Marcus snorts, winking at you. “Otherwise, I would have had coffee delivered by now.”

“Mostly everything, then.” One more kiss and you pull back to get your things sorted out around the room. “I’m going to tidy up a little and get out a couple of comfort things for Syd. So when she comes down she’ll have her favorite cardigan and things like that.” Absolutely anything you can do to soothe your best friend’s hellish night, you’re going to.

“That sounds perfect.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll go grab the coffee. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Just my usual.” Your hum of appreciation is more relaxed than it would have been earlier in the night. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” He promises as he quickly starts changing into the clothes he had brought.

Marcus is gone for about a half an hour before the door to the room opens again, but when it does it's Juan there – holding the door open wide as one of the overnight workers from the transport department wheels Sydney's bed back into the room with her nurse hot on their heels.

“We are back.” His tone is exhausted but elated at the same time. It’s been a sleepless night for him. Afraid that he would close his eyes and Sydney would be gone.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You're at Sydney's side as soon as the nurse is done getting her settled. The woman has the patience of a saint and excuses herself to go retrieve Constance, who is being allowed to leave the NICU.

“Tired. Sore.” She admits with a quick, tired smile. “Impatient to hold my daughter.”

"She'll be down soon." Glancing at the door where the nurse has disappeared to bring around that same little girl, the warmth in the room starts to grow exponentially. "Marcus went to get coffees. And I'll bring sushi for lunch. Cross my heart."

“I don’t know if I’m hungry.” Sydney admits with a slight shrug. She’s still a little disoriented from the drugs. “But coffee sounds amazing. I could sleep for days.”

"Then we won't worry about food right now. But Marcus is bringing back coffee for you, and he should be back very soon." You grin at your friends and send them both a conspiratorial shrug. "I sent him with a map, otherwise you know he would have gotten lost."

Juan laughs as he fuses over Sydney, hovering as if she might disappear if he steps too far away. “He should have been a Lieutenant in the military, as bad as he is.”

“I’ve just learned to always have a map for new places or to set up the gps in his car without asking.” It’s a quirk, and you all have them, but Marcus’s ability to get lost almost anywhere is a standing joke between the four of you and it’s so, so good to hear Syd laugh. Even if it’s only a little, it’s completely worth it.

The knock on the door comes just a moment later and Marcus pokes his head in. “Oh you’re here!” He brightens up and pushes the door open, the delivery person from the flower shop hot on his heels. “I was hoping to get all this inside before you did.”

“We just got back.” Syd is groggy for sure, but not so badly that she doesn’t register the tray of coffees and bag of food with the hospital’s cafe logo on it that you jump forward to snag from him and the delivery of flowers that comes in behind him. With the tension and fear of the last few hours and all the emotions and hormones still raging in her, Sydney is immediately in tears. “You—you got flowers?” She half-squalls like it’s the kindest and most loving thing any person has ever done in the history of time. For her, especially right now, it definitely feels like it.

“Ohhhh don’t cry.” Marcus frets slightly, even though he’s pretty sure that they are happy tears. “I wanted you and Constance to have a beautiful reminder of how loved you both are.” He walks over to the recovering woman, that he now regards as his friend, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “More are coming too.” He promises.

“It’s so sweet!” Syd huffs between large tears, hugging Marcus as tightly as her recovering body will permit. “You’re so sweet.” Even after we interrupted your plans, she thinks loudly, but manages not to say it. She knows what last night was supposed to be and she hated having to call when she knew Marcus was about to sweep you out the door.

“You deserve nothing but happiness right now.” He promises, looking over at Juan and squeezing Sydney gently before he pulls back and moves over to the new father. “Congratulations.” He is somber, aware of what the agony of the night had done to his friend.

“It was a hell of a night.” Juan pulls Marcus in for a hug — something the two men need right now for grounding, but Juan also murmur, “And sorry for the timing” to Marcus before pulling away.

“Don’t ever worry about that.” Marcus insists. “Doesn’t matter if I was in the middle of it, we would have been on our way.” Yes, proposing to you and giving you a beautiful moment is important to him; but some things are always much more important and this is at the top of that priority list.

“We’ll make it work.” Juan promises quietly, glad to see you absorbing Sydney in conversation while she marvels at the flowers that Marcus ordered.

“How’s Constance doing?” Marcus asks quietly, not seeing the bassinet in the room. “Will she be released from the NICU soon?”

“Our doc said she’s stable, so she can come down and have some family time and be fed.” As a brand new father of only about two and a half hours, that has Juan both puffing out his chest and teary with pride. “The nurse should be bringing her down now.”

“That’s great!” Marcus grins, knowing that both mama and daddy will feel better with their newborn daughter in their room.

Having settled Sydney with her coffee and treat — Marcus brought muffins back from the cafe — you excuse yourself to the bathroom and feel like you can finally breathe. Syd is here. You can hear her muffled laughing through the door. And the baby will be down soon. Everyone is okay.

“Looks Marcus…” Sydney’s voice is hushed and he can tell by her guilty expression what is coming. “Please, don’t apologize again.” He begs her softly. “There is nothing to apologize for.”

“I can call Kingbird,” she offers immediately. Explain it was my fault you had to cancel and get you a new reservation.”

“No.” He shakes his head and glances back at the bathroom. “I don’t think she’s going to be leaving your side for quite awhile and I cannot in good conscience try to convince her otherwise.”

He insists that she shouldn’t apologize more but Sydney still feels like she ought to, pursing her lips until she eventually tilts her head to look up at the men standing side by side at her bed. “You could still do it tonight if you wanted to,” she offers. It’s technically morning now — past six, anyway — but she hasn’t gotten any sleep yet so everything blends together. “It…” she blows out a sigh. “I know it wasn’t the easiest night.” For her especially. “But it would be nice to have Constance’s birth surrounded by happiness. Instead of what might have happened.”

Marcus considers it for a moment, frowning slightly and he bites his lip. “That is— are you sure?” He would never want to take away from Constance and her birth.

Sydney sits back in her hospital bed and takes Juan’s hand, letting him anchor her the way you always do with Marcus. “I don’t want the only thing I remember about the day my daughter was born to be that both of us almost died,” she admits quietly, knowing it’s a little selfish to ask him for this but also knowing that the happy memories you make together mean everything to the four of you.

He can understand that and he bites his lip. “Then….what do you think about me proposing here?” He asks. “It’s not the most romantic setting, but I think under the circumstances, it’s the best place to do it.”

“There’s flowers and best friends and I know you brought her back her favourite muffin.” Juan chuckles, feeling a bit misty eyed over more good things happening. “What’s more romantic than that?”

“Maybe we can do something that involves the baby?” Marcus suggests.

“I will squall.” Sydney warns, already tearing up all over again. “But quickly before she comes back…wrap the ring box in the baby blanket?”

“Perfect.” Marcus dives for the bag that had been packed for Constance and finds the soft baby blanket they had decided to wrap her in while in the hospital. “When the baby comes in, ask her to get the blanket for you.” Marcus tells Sydney.

“If we can keep a straight face,” Syd laughs, but agrees immediately.

Marcus hides the ring box in the folds of the blanket. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“More than.” Sydney promises, right before the bathroom door opens.

You had washed up a little again, refreshing yourself and feeling a little more human while you were in the bathroom. “Did you manage to rest a little while you were upstairs?” Your focus is right back on Sydney but you take a second to give Marcus a kiss of thanks when he hands you your coffee.

“Yes.” She’s still tired and exhausted, but she smiles. “I did, you don’t worry about me.” She huffs, knowing that it won’t do any good. You will fret over her just like Juan will. “Looking forward to sushi later.”

“We’ll have a sushi party and baby girl can get milk drunk like a party animal.” Making the best of what had been a nearly calamitous situation is good for everyone’s spirits right now. You help the guys set up a little area as a breakfast ‘table’ for the three of you and set Sydney’s things on her tray. It’s about time for the morning shows that Juan loves so the tv goes on, and seconds later the nurse enters with her bundled up charge yawning as loudly as her little lungs can manage.

“Oh my god.” Marcus coos as soon as he sees the little angel in the flesh. She is perfect and nothing will convince him otherwise, falling in love with his goddaughter in a split second. “She’s so precious.”

“She’s perfect.” As expected, Sydney and Juan are both in tears all over again, and the nurse who helped Sydney get comfortable upstairs makes sure Mom and Dad have everything they need before bowing out to let the family bond.

“She’s beyond perfect.” It’s all you can do not to cry with them, looking at your best friend and goddaughter together.

“Isn’t she?” Sydney completely agrees as she finally gets to hold her newborn daughter. Completely in awe of how perfect she is.

The room is practically full of the sound of smiling, whatever that really is, but you end up half-laughing under your breath and looking to Marcus with fresh water behind your eyes. "I want one too," you laugh, overwhelmed with absolute joy and love.

He laughs at your eagerness, the yearning and knows that you are only partially joking. “I don’t know if we could top how perfect she is.” He admits with his own chuckle.

"Maybe not." The only possible place for you to be right now is snuggled into his side and you tuck yourself in there to just stare at your goddaughter together. "We can't know until we try, though."

Sydney spares a glance at Marcus, who nods as he holds you close. “We have to get through a few other things first.” He reminds you.

"I know." You hum when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sigh again. "I just love her so much and I wanna give her everything. Including playmates."

Sydney coos at Constance and cuddles her closer. “Birdie, would you get me her baby blanket?” She asks softly. “From her bag? I want her in the things we picked out.”

"Yeah, of course!" You hop to immediately, slipping out of Marcus's arms to go to the bag Sydney packed. The baby blanket from Sydney's parents is folded near the top. It's a light thing, a beautiful hand knitted piece done in their chosen color of green and then embroidered with the initials CMB for Constance Marie Badillo.

The blanket slips a little in your hand when you pick it up, and when you go to right it a small but weighty something falls out from the center. The realization that it's probably something that Juan tucked away as a surprise for Sydney has you tucking it back inside quickly and handing over the blanket like you're suddenly holding a hot potato.

Sydney hadn’t been expecting you to hand over the blanket so fast so she pushes towards you again for a moment. “Hold it please.” She requests, knowing you will do anything. She has to give Marcus time to get into position.

"Of course," you agree again, bobbing your head on a nod. Glancing over at Juan makes you wonder if you should do something to help, like opening up the blanket so she can see the little jewelry box or something. Maybe hold it sort of presentationally? You can't quite make up your mind and end up clutching the blanket to your chest in surprise when you hear Marcus clear his throat and whirl around to see him down on one knee in the middle of the little hospital room.

That jewelry box was definitely not for Sydney...

“Before you panic, I have the happy new parent’s permission.” Marcus promises as he reaches for the hand that is not clutching the blanket protectively. “And today is a celebration. Of life, and love.” He tells you softly.

"Oh my god." It's just about all you can think to say as you choke on a fresh round of tears and tighten your fingers in his hand.

“I know.” Marcus flashes you a grin. “Sweetheart, there is no one else I want by my side, confiding in, planning for the future and sharing part of my soul with.” He promises you. “I love everything about you and there is not one thing that I could possibly imagine changing. I love your loyalty to friends and family, your work ethic and your tenacity. Your tender heart and your penchant for dreaming.” He takes a big breath, clearly saying your full name. “Will you marry me?”

He can barely finish the question before your thick, cracking voice is chirping endless yeses. Before you're crumpling to your knees to kiss him, cradling the blanket between you as delicately as if the baby was already wrapped in it. "I love you" gets mixed in with all the "Yes!" and more "Oh my god" as if you can't quite believe that it's finally happening. From the moment that the two of you individually became a unit, you've both known that this was the direction you were heading in. But now that you're here? It feels even better than you could ever have guessed.

He knew your answer, he’s known it, but he still giggles in relief and cupping your cheek to kiss you. “I love you.” He promises softly, pecking your lips again and again. He hears both Juan and Sydney sniffling happily and knows this was the right call.

For a moment the room is just happy tears and sniffles and giggling, and you’re both so jittery that you get a little mixed up in retrieving the ring box from deep inside the handmade baby blanket in your arms. Marcus had said he bought your promise and engagement rings together so they would match and of course his decision is perfect — the haloed diamond stands out over heart shaped stones of the promise ring he gave you months ago, and the fact that they’re from him makes them so perfect you could just fall apart right here in his arm.

“It was.” He admits with a modest tilt of his head. “But I think that this might be even better. “Your best friend and goddaughter got to witness it.”

“And your best friend too.” No one who ever ran into Marcus and Juan now would think they had spent so many years apart. They’re more likely to be mistaken for twins than anything else, and actually had been on a dinner out a few weeks ago.

“It makes it better than anything else.” He nods in agreement, looking over at your friends. “We are friends and family.”

“Matron of honor and best man?” It’s hardly a question, but Marcus has slipped the beautifully shimmering engagement ring onto your finger and you glance back over at your tearful friends with absolute joy. “And the tiniest, sweetest, most perfect little flower girl in the whole world?”

“The perfect flower girl.” Marcus agrees with his own emotional chuckle. “And of course they are our matron of honor and best man. What else could they possibly be?”

“Your caterer.” Syd half-complains with a pout, but it’s so half-hearted that she just ends up laughing through the tears. “Get over here and let us hug you two, and meet your goddaughter up close. Obviously we’re going to be whatever you want us to be. All three of us.”

“Not going to happen.” Marcus snorts, shooting Sydney a smile. “You’re going to participate in the reception. But…” he shrugs. “We will let you create our menu.”

“Here we go.” Juan teases, gently taking the baby blanket out of your arms to wrap up his daughter with the already precious heirloom. “Breakfast and wedding planning.” He grins down at Sydney. “I’ll get your notebook and take notes. You focus on our angel.”

Marcus laughs because he knows that’s exactly what will happen. Although there might be a little more cooing over the baby than anything else going on. As it is, he can’t wait to get his hands on her.

“I already know what wedding cake you want.” Syd grins, readjusting in her seat so this conversation can include food for everyone, including little Constance. She’s already gotten her little girl to latch once without a hellish amount of trouble so she’s hoping to do it on her own this time.

There has already been plenty of conversation about Sydney breastfeeding, but Marcus busies himself with his bag while she gets her daughter situated. It’s not because he’s weirded out, just a respect thing, giving the new mother time to get used to being exposed without feeling like she’s in a fishbowl.

“I’m covered,” Sydney assures him, after a few minutes of fussing where Marcus does anything but look directly at her. His respect level is top notch and she appreciates that about him. “Let’s talk food, please? And—” Before she can even ask, Juan is handing her a cup of water and she melts and murmurs a quiet “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to give you some time.” Marcus joins the small group, sitting down when you stand up and pulling you into his lap while Juan sits on the bed with his wife and child. “So right off the bat, what’s your first ideas?” He’s smart enough to know the final menu will be completely different from the first one.

“Americana.” You and Sydney grin at each other and you lean back in Marcus’s lap to sip your coffee while you talk. “Updated versions of classic American dishes.”

“What would that look like?” He asks, frowning in confusion. “Meat loaf?”

“Could be.” Sydney nods. “It could be things like gourmet versions of tv dinners.”

“Or it could be modern versions of older popular dishes,” you nod in agreement. “Like upscale Steak Diane or deconstructed chicken pot pie.”

“Finger foods?” Marcus asks. “I’m sure there will have to be a buffet of canapés.”

“Depends on the events.” Smiling around a sip of iced coffee, you press a kiss to Marcus’s temple a second later. “I’m thinking four.”

“Four events?” Marcus chuckles. “That’s bachelorette party, bridal shower, rehearsal dinner and wedding?”

“Maybe five,” you admit with a sheepish grin. “You said you wanted to have an engagement party.”

“I think that it’s a good place for the publicity your mom wants.” He reminds you.

“Five events is a lot, but if we space them out I think we can manage it.” Looking down at him with an absolute glow on your face, your brand new engagement ring catches the light and makes your chest swell. “What season do you want to get married in?”

“Any one you want.” It’s fair in his mind, he’s been married before and all that matters to him is that you repeat your vows in front of friends and family. What the weather is like doesn’t matter a lick to him. “I guess it depends on how fast we can get it planned?”

“Don’t do less than six months,” Juan warns. His cousin had rushed things to disastrous consequences.

“I wouldn’t.” You can totally agree to that. “My impulse would be to say a year but…I’ve kind of always liked the idea of a summer wedding.” Chewing on the idea, you turn your eyes back down to Marcus again. “Roses stop blooming at the end of the summer.”

“Early fall?” He suggests. “October? It gives us seven months. And you will more than likely have White House help.” He shrugs. “Along with mine, of course.”

“If we did October, maybe I can do a summer bridal shower in the White House rose garden?” Your eyes widen, practically begging. “I would really love to use the rose garden.”

“Then you better make sure your mom doesn’t book it for a tea party.” He teases with a wink, reaching for your hand that now holds his engagement ring. “I think October is perfect. Hell, we could do a Halloween rehearsal dinner.” He jokes.

“Don’t even tease me about that,” you huff. A Halloween event would be exactly your style. “Halloween next year is on a Wednesday, otherwise I would be begging you to get married on Halloween.”

“Baby, if that’s what you want….” He shoots Juan a grin and shrugs. “I’m okay with that.”

“I don’t want to get married on a Wednesday night.” No one parties deep into a Wednesday night in their thirties. It doesn’t feel as special to you. “How about we get married earlier in October and I talk you into visiting the Paris catacombs with me on Halloween night during our honeymoon?”

“That works for me just as easily as anything else.” Marcus promises. “Only thing I care about is you and I celebrating our love and making a public commitment to each other.”

“I love you, too.” If it were just the two of you, you would be getting dressed to run off to a soulmate chapel immediately. But promises have been made and they need to be honored, and every chance to declare your love for Marcus loud and clear is worth taking. “Any Pike family traditions we should keep in mind that I don’t know about already?”

Marcus smiles. “There’s a jewelry set that is passed down to be used in the wedding, if wanted.” He adds. “It was my great, great grandmother’s.”

“Really?” Your expression softens immediately, eyes widening a little, and you nod right away. There is no question in your mind that you’re going to wear it. “Your Mom swore to pass down some family recipes after the wedding but she never mentioned heirlooms.”

“It’s only ever offered after the engagement.” He explains. “We had a certain cousin’s wife - I’m sure you can guess who - think that it was for her to keep.”

When Sydney and Juan look equal parts amused and confused, you snicker slightly. “Hannah has very interesting thoughts about the family,” you tell them, glossing over the few less than kind things Hannah Pike had said either to you or that had been relayed to you. “Which reminds me. I’m absolutely going to ask Selena to be a bridesmaid.”

“Sydney, you will love her.” Marcus promises. “She’ll be flying out every other weekend to help you plan.” He warns you. “Or just staying out here, she can work from anywhere.”

“She’s been thinking about moving,” you admit, barely biting back a grin at how much fun it would be to have her nearby permanently. Marcus’s cousin has become one of your closest friends in the months since your first visit to Texas. “She said she wants to come see what winter is like here to make sure it’s not too bad, but her office is opening a DC branch and asked her if she would be interested in heading up the new team out here.”

“How do you know that and I don’t?” He asks, putting on a faux pout.

“Because she hasn’t told your aunt and uncle yet and she didn’t want it to get back to the family.” That grin of yours becomes full force and you kiss his temple again. “She was trying to save you from having to lie if you got asked.”

“Well, then, you didn’t say anything to me.” He mimes zipping his lips and locking them to throw away the key.

"Probably a good policy," you agree, snickering quietly even as you squeeze his shoulders tightly.

There’s a sense of lazy content in the room. Everyone slowly savors the baked goods that Marcus had brought and sips their coffee. The baby, Constance, is the noisiest of them all, her hungry sucking and grasping one that makes all the adults smile as they look at her every thirty seconds.

She is Sydney’s entire focus, and when the baby is done with her own breakfast there is a little fuss over making sure she’s burped properly before she cuddles up against her mother’s chest to have a post-meal nap. Something that makes Sydney sigh in relief and hold her close. “You’d never know how bad last night almost was by looking at her.”

“Children are resilient.” Marcus muses. “She will never remember her birth and be completely unaffected by it, while it will stay with us forever.”

“All the better.” Sydney soothes one hand over her sleeping daughter’s back.

Marcus watches the loving gesture, almost aching for the time where he can watch you soothe the children you will have together. Will you look as much like Madonna and Child like Sydney does now? He thinks it will be even more profound like undoubtedly Juan feels like it is.

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #pregnancy tw #childbirth tw #traumatic birth

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