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obsessedwrhys · 2 months

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)

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spncvr · 3 months

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waiting room | s. reid

summary: spencer can't seem to escape the girl in the waiting room

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of reid's addiction & tobias hankel, mentions of kidnapping and mass shootings (in, like, a joking way??) my terrible, terrible humour, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE LMAO, this is deffo terrible, pls tell me if i missed anything!!

a/n: ok idk if i wanna continue this and make it a series so lmk lol (also im on writers block so i literally can't come up with SHIT)

SPENCER REID WAS a pessimist.

At least, that’s what he’d call himself. His colleague, Derek Morgan would most likely (and by most likely, he means, definitely already has) call him an overanalysing introvert. But in Spencer’s defense, there has never really been a good reason to go out and “live your life”. Consider this:

Go to the new coffee shop? Mass shooting.

Go to the mall? A child gets abducted.

Leave the apartment for a short while? A stalker finds out where he lives, kidnaps him in his sleep, and, in a nightmarish turn, auctions off his organs to the bidder in the black market.

Besides, his life isn’t some John Green book. There were no life-affirming adventures or poetic moments of self-discovery awaiting him. Carpe diem? A fanciful notion for others, but for him, not so much. Sorry, Mr. Keating.

Yet life—or more accurately, bureau protocol— had its own plans. Ever since the Tobias Hankel incident, a visit to the psychologist wasn’t just a request but rather (unfortunately for him) an order. Which meant, he’d have to risk his entire life to get up and walk for ten whole minutes just to sit and wait, in this glaringly bright waiting room, when he could have stayed at home and read the new books he’d gotten from his team as a get-well gift.

Speaking of which, why the gifts? He was fine. Physically, at least. But really, when have you ever seen get-well-soon cards in an asylum? Well, alright, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic. A visit to the psychologist doesn’t mean he’ll be institutionalised—but then again, Spencer Reid was never one to wear rose-tinted glasses.

This is his third time in the waiting room, and she’s always there. He isn’t sure as to why she is, because, well, unlike himself, she was very clearly an optimist—and at least, from the looks of it, she hasn’t been kidnapped and drugged in the past month. But she's sitting there again, in the exact same chair for the past three weeks, along with a beacon of smiles where joy usually fears to trend. Maybe, he isn't as good of a profiler as he’d like to think he is.

“Dr. Reid?” the call of his name rips him out of his thoughts. He looks up to see the same kind woman he’s seen the past three weeks—not the one in the waiting room, no, he means his therapist.

Dr. Brown was easy to profile: She wore heels to make herself look taller, and she hated wearing glasses, apparent by how she would continuously place them atop her head instead of her nose. Her teeth were abnormally perfect, which meant, she’d had to wear braces when she was younger—which (from his humbling experience) means she wasn’t exactly the most popular at school. Perhaps, psychology felt appealing to her because she could help people like her.

“How are you?” she asks, her pen clicking.

Usually, he’d offer her a meek shrug. The kind that could win awards for its commitment to non-commitment. Besides, he’s not one to talk about how he feels—there isn’t much to say, anyway. And let’s face it, “How are you?” in the grand tapestry of human interaction is almost as genuine as a three-dollar bill. And, get this, the average person asks “How are you?” 6,739 times a year but only listens to the answer about half the time—well, okay, maybe those numbers might have been fabricated, but isn’t the sincerity behind the question also made up? But instead of telling her all this, he remembers what Hotch had told him, one, two, three weeks ago: that he ought to cooperate with Dr. Brown or the board won’t be happy. So, he kisses his teeth before he says:

“Fine. I’m fine.”

And the session went on.

PLS TELL ME IF I SHLD CONTIUE OR NOT LOLOLOL spam my inbox with ideas I BEG.

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suckerforblondeathletes · 4 days

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I would love that l Alexia P. x Reader

Part 1/2

Summary: You and Alexia have been friends for years, but feelings slowly arise, and they spark a match during the championship league final.

Warnings: Oblivious reader? Fluff! Mapi being a therapist for both athletes' feelings.

Authours Note: Hope you enjoy this! Part two?

Ever since you came to Barcelona years ago, you and your captain, Alexia, have always been close. She always kept you close, she said it was because you had a bright future ahead of you, and a friend close by is always helpful. But that was only partially correct.

You started to gain feelings when she tore her ACL, you being with her so much, helping and making things easier for her, and her being so vulnerable with you in a hard time made your feelings aspire to be greater than friendship.

But you never thought anything of it, telling yourself that the Catalan would never like you, and that she never saw you like that.

Time skip to the championship game, the final game, all of the hard work you and your team have put into this season came down to this.

Your nerves were going haywire. Why wouldn't they? Who wouldn't be nervous in this situation? You might be thinking no one, but your wrong.

Alexia had almost no nerves in sight. She was always calm like that. Never anxious or nervous in big games like this. Always had a relaxed face and relaxed mindset.

You were in the locker room, fixing your hair for the 100th time because of your shaking hands. Which were filled with sweat and fear.

Your breathing picks up and you start looking around frantically, looking for a solace of some sort. Which didn't go unnoticed by a certain Catalan.

You felt Alexias warm hand grab your hands from your hair and put them by your sides, wrapping her arms around your waits and pulling you close, like she always did when you got nervous and panicky like this.

She tucked her nose into the crook of your neck and squeezed your waist.

"Whats bothering you amor?" She asked you as you leaned back and put your head on her shoulder. Attempting to hide the blush on your face from the nickname she always used when talking to you.

"Just nerves." You close your eyes and cancel out the noise from your rowdy teammates.

"Tell me what is making your nervous." She runs her hand up and down your waist, her tone not rude or mean, but inviting you to vent to her in a soft way that shows she isn't forcing you to do anything.

"I just want it to go perfect, im worried something will mess it up." You open your eyes while talking, she turns you around and helps you lay down some fly away you have.

"Amor, you have nothing to worry about. Lo harás increíble, como siempre lo haces." (You will do amazing, like you always do) She smiles while looking at your with pure adoration, holding your face in your hands.

"Eso espero" (I hope so) She kisses your forehead before leaving to line up with the others at the tunnel.

As she moves out of the way you make eye contact with Mapi, who is leaning on a locker with a smirk on her face. You roll your eyes before walking up to her.

"So you and the Capitana officially?" You wrap your arm around her shoulders before finishing.

"I wish" And y'all walk out.

Mapi has known about your feelings for Alexia ever since the night your came to terms with the fact you even had them.

Little did you know she had been talking to Mapi as well, but she never told you that.

The game began, and the other team was good, you can't even lie.

They had you stressing until finally, the crowd when crazy, and Alexia scored.

You felt adrenaline shoot through your veins and you sprinted to her, tackling the half naked women in a bone crushing hug after she finished her run around the half of the stadium.

"Estoy tan orgullosa de ti, no entiendes" (Im so proud of you, you don't understand) You shout in her ear over the loud crowd.

She smiles at you and says "lo hice por ti mi amor" (I did it for you my love) You look at her in confusion after she finishes her sentence, not understanding what she meant.

"I didn't want you to keep worrying, so I wanted to help but your mind at ease." You laugh and jump into her arms again and hug her, not before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

After the match, you ran immediately to her, with tears in both of your eyes you say "We did it!"

She wipes her eyes and hugs you tighter, "We did"

TIME SKIP

When the team boards the plane for Barcelona, you sit with Alexia.

She makes sure your comfortable in your seat before settling in herself. She turns to you and has this look on her face you know very well.

"What do you want to say?" You smile as she takes your hand in hers.

"I was wondering if you want, when we get back to Barcelona, to maybe go get dinner?" She looks in your eyes for an answer.

You don't even have to think before nodding,

"I would love that"

#mapi Leon x reader #woso x reader #championship league final #alexia putellas x reader

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tabithatwo · 1 year

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are we ready to talk about shauna's barely hidden but somehow very ignored psychosis and how it, like a ton of her other qualities, is brushed aside by both those around her and the audience? like, i think its clear that a central focus of the show is the way lottie is the only one who got stuck in a facility (and natalie in and out of rehab being the next closest to reckoning with her shit) when the rest of them are very clearly not okay. as a certified Crazy Girl, i've been weary of how they'll handle lottie's story line (blurring psychosis and the supernatural is a very delicate and tricky thing and thus far i've been sort of just waiting to see where it goes). our data on and understanding of mental health is incredibly limited for a lot of reasons (but that's a rant for another time) but there is a large mainstream misconception of when hallucinations and delusions can happen. psychosis isn't just something that happens in schizophrenia and its very complex, so if you want to learn more there's plenty of info out there i'm not going to get into it here, but it happens in a lot of other cases. psychosis is, most simply put, a loss of contact with external reality. ptsd can cause psychosis, especially auditory and visual hallucinations.

so shauna is shown to have these experiences and i didn't realize that they were being so heavily overlooked by a large amount of people until the reaction to the scene where she beats lottie nearly to death. shauna is introduced in s1 as having hallucinations of jackie 25 years later. she is shown to disassociate. in 207, she both holds the baby's body and believes the delusion that they ate the baby. the episode shows her fighting the delusion until she can't anymore. meanwhile, adult shauna tells lottie she keeps callie at arms length out of "fear that she would die...i guess? or maybe that she was never even...real to begin with." then she adds "i think something is broken, lottie." implied: she's broken. something is wrong with her. this is the is the most honest about her mental state we've ever seen shauna be.

why? because lottie has always been and likely will always be perceived as crazier. lottie is the one they pin it on, lottie is the cult leader both then and now, lottie is the scapegoat, lottie is the one who got sent to switzerland. i think there's something to be said for the effect lottie has on people (again, a whole other post) but honestly, that alone is enough. shauna is feeling vulnerable for a lot of reasons and she can tell lottie that she thinks she's crazy, that she's never quite sure her daughter exists, that she's constantly afraid she'll die to the degree that she doesn't let herself interact with her in a real, tangible way, because it's always safer to tell the crazy girl you're crazy, too.

and lottie knows. shauna knows that. lottie clocked her psychosis almost immediately, when she was in the meat shed for all hours. the other girls were shocked by the makeup, and their shock was so fucking strange to me when i watched it, but now on reflecting i'm realizing maybe its the lottie effect. like, have i done the shit shauna has? abso-fucking-lutely not lol. but does my mind work in a way where i immediately would assume shauna was doing something along the lines of the shit she was doing out there, because to me its like...what else would it be? yeah. like sees like, in a way. lottie knows what this looks like at baseline, even if its coming out way different in shauna. even if in shauna it looks like aggression and violence a lot of the time. lottie gets it.

jeff doesn't get it, he thinks strawberry lube is too wild. taissa gets it to a degree, and we see shauna be the second most open with her, but tai suppresses and hides it a degree that she wouldn't dare step foot in a therapist's office (this is yet another thing that makes me crazy but is a whole other post lol). shauna's main goal in this life she's created is pretending to be normal. and she's like, impressively bad at it. but people let her, because what else are they going to do? addressing the clear issues is taboo, because we categorize people so heavily. she masks better than lottie, but it's fucking wafer thin. you see this when she interacts with people who aren't her family or the other yjs. the way she speaks to the taylors? to adam? shauna is only sometimes masking passably when she's in her set world, where she has a routine, and is surrounded by people she only has to half-convince of her sanity.

if shauna is honest about the level of psychosis she experiences, she knows she'll end up like lottie. and i think there's an argument to be made that the people around her (which at this point in her life is pretty much just jeff because she's done another common thing and insulated herself from other people, re: the way she behaves being clockably off to others who won't overlook certain things or can't relate) understand that too. it can't be addressed, because then in their minds there must be action of some kind if it is. (taissa yelling you're acting crazy, shauna is one of the most purely terrified moments we see of her in relation to shauna, because she knows she's admitting something. jeff yelling something to the same effect after the carjacking, same thing.)

the person we see try to get shauna to open up about it is callie. her teenage daughter, who bares the brunt of her difficulty maintaining reality, (who knows that shauna has never accepted her fully as her child, and seems to actually sense that there is a deeper reason for that), asks her to open up. she tells her after the club scene that she knows something is wrong. she even mentions jackie directly. she spends all of s2 trying to relate to shauna, to get her to be open with her about everything. there's no way shauna's trauma and psychosis and general issues have gone unnoticed by callie. daughters always know. they see it in their mothers before they even have a concept of the world. so we're watching a 16 year old try to get her mom to open up, because she doesn't understand fully why that's so dangerous to shauna. to callie, it may even be a secret she thinks other people are in on that she's being left out of. i think maybe she's realizing that it isn't personal and that shauna is guarded like this in general, and we're watching that happen.

callie is learning to care for and relate to her mother and she doesn't see why shauna won't let her in, because to her it's an innate truth that she'll be by her side no matter what (if only she'd let her be). she has unconditional love for her mother and that is the scariest thing in the world to shauna, because the last person who had unconditional love for shauna died because shauna didn't know what to do with it. a baby she never got a chance to meet in reality could've replaced the love that jackie gave her, and shauna was maybe starting to look forward to that, but that ended before it began. so twice shauna has killed that figure in her life. the one who loves her wholly and for who she is, which is terrifying to shauna in it's own right (she tried to take that away from jackie in their last moments, maybe you never really knew me, because that would be easier. shauna can't handle someone really knowing her because she can't handle really knowing herself because, again, that means addressing things that go unaddressed). and she doesn't plan on killing that figure again.

(if callie's even real, because the baby wasn't real when she met him and jackie wasn't real every time she's talked to her in the last twenty-five years, so who the fuck is to say callie is real?)

#this started purely as a shauna shipman psychosis discussion and ended with shauna callie mother daughter dynamics but i'm only human #they are so special to me #as the crazy daughter of a crazy mother that i had to let go of. watching them is a wild experience #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #jackie x shauna #taissa turner #shauna x jackie #jackieshauna #callie sadecki #tai x shauna #lottie matthews #lottie x shauna #yellowjackets #cw psychosis

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idesofrevolution · 2 months

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The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

#original #hypnosis #mind control #himbo #bisexual #transformation #male hypnosis #male transformation #stoner #cannabis #musk #footplay #switch #male reprogramming

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estapa-edwards · 1 month

Text

MAKE A MOVE - A. FANTILLI

paring: Adam Fantilli x reader

word count: 2.4k

requested? yes - adam meeting the physical therapist at the blue jackets and totally being in love right away, happens they are also neighbors so they become really good friends. eventually they start dating but keep it pretty private she’s the one who helps him back with his injury… gavin had his debut the other day and maybe the whole group notice adam looking in love and like tease him telling him to make a move but he alreadlt has

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

It all begins with a seemingly innocuous event – a small injury during a routine practice session. As Adam skates off the ice, wincing slightly, he's directed towards the team's physical therapist for assessment and treatment. Little does he know that this encounter will change the course of his life.

As Adam enters the treatment room, Y/N's smile widens, though she tries to maintain her professional demeanor. "Hey there, Adam," she greets him warmly, gesturing for him to take a seat on the treatment table. "What seems to be the issue today?"

Adam winces slightly as he eases himself onto the table, his eyes scanning the room curiously. "Just a little tweak in my shoulder," he replies, trying to downplay the discomfort he's feeling. "Nothing too serious, I hope."

Y/N nods, her gaze focused as she begins to assess his injury. As she palpates his shoulder, her brow furrows in concentration, and then suddenly, her eyes widen in recognition. "Wait a minute," she says, her voice tinged with surprise. "You're Adam Fantilli, aren't you?"

Adam chuckles sheepishly, nodding in confirmation. "Guilty as charged," he admits, offering her a rueful smile. "I guess my cover's blown, huh?"

Y/N laughs softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe it," she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You're my neighbor! I've seen you around the building before."

Adam's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "No way," he replies, a grin spreading across his face. "Small world, huh?"

Their conversation flows easily from there, as they trade stories about their experiences living in the same building. Adam finds himself captivated by Y/N's easygoing nature and genuine warmth, while Y/N is struck by Adam's humility and down-to-earth charm.

As Adam continues his therapy sessions with Y/N, their interactions extend beyond the confines of his injury. One afternoon, after a particularly grueling session, Adam finds himself lingering in the therapy room, reluctant to leave the comfort of Y/N's presence.

Y/N notices his hesitation and offers him a sympathetic smile. "You did great today, Adam," she says, her voice gentle and encouraging. "Your progress has been impressive."

Adam nods, grateful for her words of encouragement. "Thanks, Y/N," he replies, his expression softening. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Their eyes meet, and in that moment, an unspoken understanding passes between them. Without a word, Y/N gestures for Adam to take a seat on the nearby couch, and he gratefully accepts.

What begins as a casual conversation soon evolves into a heart-to-heart discussion, as Adam opens up to Y/N about the pressures of life in the NHL and the constant scrutiny he faces as a professional athlete. Y/N listens attentively, offering him words of comfort and support.

As they talk, Adam can't help but marvel at the depth of their connection. Despite the differences in their backgrounds and experiences, he feels a sense of kinship with Y/N that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Before he knows it, the therapy session has turned into an impromptu therapy of a different kind – a safe space where Adam can be vulnerable and honest without fear of judgment. And as they sit together in the quiet intimacy of the therapy room, Adam realizes that he's beginning to fall for Y/N in a way he never thought possible.

One evening, after a long day of practice and training, Adam finds himself craving the comfort of home. As he steps into the elevator of his apartment building, he's surprised to find Y/N waiting inside, a basket of groceries in her arms.

"Hey, Adam," she greets him with a warm smile. "Heading home?"

Adam nods, returning her smile. "Yeah, just finished up at the rink," he replies, shifting his gym bag on his shoulder. "What about you? Stocking up on essentials?"

Y/N chuckles, nodding in affirmation. "Something like that," she says cryptically, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Curiosity piqued, Adam follows Y/N as she steps out of the elevator and heads towards her apartment. To his surprise, she invites him inside, gesturing for him to make himself at home while she puts away the groceries.

As Adam steps into Y/N's apartment, he's enveloped by a sense of warmth and coziness. The soft glow of lamps illuminates the space, casting a gentle ambiance that immediately puts him at ease. He watches as Y/N bustles around the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she unpacks the groceries.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, Adam?" Y/N asks, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I was planning on making a simple pasta dish."

Adam's stomach rumbles at the mention of food, and he can't help but smile at Y/N's offer. "That sounds amazing, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with gratitude. "I'd love to stay."

As Y/N sets to work preparing their meal, Adam takes a seat at the kitchen island, content to watch her work. He's struck by the ease with which she moves around the kitchen, the way she effortlessly balances multiple tasks at once.

"So, Adam," Y/N says, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled between them. "How's the season been treating you so far?"

Adam sighs, his expression momentarily clouding over with fatigue. "It's been intense, to say the least," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything. This is what I've been working towards my whole life."

Y/N nods in understanding, her eyes filled with empathy. "I can imagine it must be tough, balancing the demands of the game with everything else," she says softly. "But just know that I'm here for you, whenever you need someone to talk to."

Adam's heart swells with gratitude at Y/N's words, and he finds himself opening up to her in a way he rarely does with others.

As the weeks pass, Adam finds himself increasingly drawn to Y/N, his feelings for her growing stronger with each passing day. He can't shake the image of her warm smile and kind eyes, nor the way she makes him feel at ease with just a simple glance.

One evening, after another grueling practice session, Adam finds himself standing outside Y/N's apartment door, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows that he wants to take their relationship to the next level, but he's unsure of how to broach the subject.

Summoning up his courage, Adam knocks on the door, his hand trembling slightly with nerves. When Y/N answers, a bright smile lights up her face, and Adam feels his resolve strengthen.

"Hey, Adam," Y/N greets him warmly, stepping aside to let him in. "What brings you by?"

Adam takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner with me," he says, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. "Just the two of us."

Y/N's eyes widen in surprise, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. "I'd love to, Adam," she replies, her smile widening into a grin. "I've been hoping you'd ask."

Relief floods through Adam as he realizes that Y/N feels the same way he does. With a sense of excitement coursing through his veins, he suggests a nearby restaurant that he's been wanting to try, and Y/N eagerly agrees.

As they make plans for their dinner date, Adam can't help but feel a surge of anticipation. He knows that this could be the beginning of something truly special between them, and he can't wait to see where their newfound romance will take them.

And as he bids Y/N goodnight and heads back to his own apartment, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

After their first dinner date, Adam and Y/N find themselves falling into a comfortable rhythm of spending time together. They go on more dates, exploring new restaurants, taking walks in the park, and even enjoying quiet evenings at home cooking dinner together.

Despite the growing intensity of their feelings for each other, Adam and Y/N decide to keep their budding relationship private for the time being. With Adam's high-profile career in the NHL and Y/N's own professional responsibilities, they both understand the importance of maintaining a sense of privacy and discretion.

They enjoy the simplicity and intimacy of their relationship, relishing in the moments they share away from the prying eyes of the public. Whether it's stealing kisses in the elevator of their apartment building or cuddling up on the couch to watch a movie, Adam and Y/N cherish every moment they spend together.

As they navigate the ups and downs of life in the fast-paced world of professional sports, Adam and Y/N find solace in each other's arms. Their relationship becomes a sanctuary from the pressures and expectations of the outside world, a place where they can be themselves without fear of judgment or scrutiny.

As the second period of the intense matchup between the Columbus Blue Jackets and the Seattle Kraken unfolded, the tension on the ice was palpable. Adam Fantilli, known for his speed and agility, was weaving through the opposing team's defense with finesse, determined to lead his team to victory.

But fate had other plans.

In a split second, the course of the game – and Adam's life – changed dramatically. As he battled for possession of the puck along the boards, he found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jared McCann, a forward for the Seattle Kraken, swung his skate blade in an attempt to dislodge the puck, but instead, it made contact with Adam's left leg.

The arena fell silent as Adam crumpled to the ice in agony, clutching his injured leg. The sight of blood staining the pristine white ice sent a shiver down the spines of everyone in attendance.

Y/N, ever vigilant on the sidelines, sprang into action. With a sense of urgency, she rushed onto the ice, her heart pounding in her chest as she assessed the extent of Adam's injury. The gravity of the situation was clear – Adam needed immediate medical attention.

With the help of the team's medical staff, Y/N carefully helped Adam to his feet, supporting him as he hobbled off the ice and down the tunnel. Every step was excruciating, but Adam gritted his teeth and soldiered on, determined not to show any sign of weakness in front of his teammates and fans.

As they reached the relative safety of the locker room, Y/N's heart ached at the sight of Adam's pain. She did her best to provide comfort and reassurance, but she knew that his road to recovery would be long and challenging.

In the aftermath of the game, as the news of Adam's injury spread like wildfire, the hockey world held its breath, praying for his swift recovery.

In the days following Adam's injury, Y/N's dual roles as both his physical therapist and his girlfriend became more intertwined than ever before. As Adam began his rehabilitation journey, Y/N was there every step of the way, providing not only expert medical care but also unwavering emotional support.

Their apartment became a makeshift clinic, with Y/N transforming their living room into a makeshift therapy space equipped with exercise bands, foam rollers, and other rehabilitation tools. Under Y/N's watchful eye, Adam diligently followed his prescribed exercises, determined to regain strength and mobility in his injured leg.

Despite the pain and frustration of his injury, Adam found solace in Y/N's presence. Her gentle encouragement and reassuring words helped to ease his anxieties and lift his spirits during the darkest moments of his recovery.

As the weeks passed, Adam's progress was slow but steady. With Y/N's guidance, he slowly began to regain strength and mobility in his injured leg, surpassing even the most optimistic expectations of his medical team.

But it wasn't just Adam who benefited from Y/N's care and attention. As they worked together day in and day out, their bond deepened, evolving into something even more profound and meaningful than before.

In the quiet moments between therapy sessions, Adam and Y/N found themselves falling more deeply in love with each other. Whether it was sharing a meal together, cuddling on the couch, or simply holding hands as they watched the sunset from their balcony, every moment spent together was a precious gift.

As the NHL season continued without Adam, his absence was keenly felt by both his teammates and fans alike. But amidst the disappointment of his injury, there was a glimmer of excitement in the air as another familiar face stepped onto the ice for his NHL debut – Gavin Brindley, Adam's former college teammate.

The Blue Jackets' arena buzzed with anticipation as Gavin took to the ice, his teammates cheering him on from the sidelines. Among them, a group of Adam's college teammates – Seamus Casey, Luca Fantilli, Rutger Mcgroarty, Nick Moldenhauer, Ethan Edwards, and of course, Adam himself – watched with pride and excitement, their cheers ringing out in unison.

But as the game progressed, it became clear to Adam's friends that there was something different about him. Gone was the usual intensity and focus that defined him on the ice – instead, there was a softness to his gaze, a warmth in his smile that hadn't been there before.

"Hey, Adam," Seamus whispered, nudging him playfully with his elbow. "You've been awfully distracted tonight. Got something on your mind?"

Adam's cheeks flushed pink as he glanced over at Y/N, who was sitting a few rows away, her eyes glued to the action on the ice. "Um, yeah," he admitted sheepishly. "I guess you could say that."

His friends exchanged knowing looks, grins spreading across their faces. "Ah, I see how it is," Luca teased, winking at Adam. "Looks like someone's got a crush."

Adam rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "Okay, okay, you caught me," he conceded, his voice tinged with amusement. "But trust me, I've already made my move."

His friends erupted into cheers and applause, their laughter filling the air as they congratulated Adam on finally taking the plunge. And as they watched Gavin Brindley's NHL debut unfold before their eyes, Adam couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude and contentment wash over him.

For in that moment, surrounded by his closest friends and the woman he loved, Adam Fantilli knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be – both on and off the ice.

#hockey #nhl x reader #adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli #umich hockey #umich boys

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angstigone · 8 days

Text

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬)

the title is a lyric form 'you can't hurry love' by the supremes

𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗼𝘂 𝘅 𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗮! 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗦𝘂𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂 𝗚𝗲𝘁𝗼

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

truly projecting with this one because my therapist did say to use writing as therapy and I am using it to manifest two hot dudes as my boyfriends in this life (not going to lie, me being single in this month does feel a bit... not very right).

I am considering probably expanding this fics with small slices of life from this couple so if you enjoyed this pls let me know and I'd appreciate the living shit out of it.

as always, comments and reblogs make me write faster and better!

have a lovely day!

SUMMARY: upon being forced into cramped spaces with two of your hot past friends, you are brought to confront some unsolved feelings.

“My friends told me that they’d have a room you could rent till you find an apartment”. Albeit good news you weren’t eager to move from a former frat boy's house to another, although you couldn’t be exactly picky. “... you remember Satorou and Suguru, right?”.

WARNINGS: romance and angst, hurt/comfort, slight mention of insecurities, burnout and depression, polyamory, slightly suggestive, gojo can be a tad too much at times and gets has an avoidant attachment style, reader is a mechanic, afab character, she/her pronouns, slice of life, getting together.

You can’t hurry love, you just have to wait had been the leitmotif throughout all your teens years where each one of your friends fell in love and into relationships, while you stayed - silently - single.

It had gotten you wondering for the longest time whether you were too ugly, too stupid or simply… whether there was something wrong with you.

Your poor mother had always had to deal with the worst of your rants and she’d always repeat the same: your one true love would come, eventually:

“It might take a bit of time, but it’s simply because they are going to be utterly wholesome and perfect for you. And you know what? These things do take time”.

As you had also gotten into relationships, as a late bloomer, you had soon learned that the dream of finally not being single was far overhyped and currently at twenty-five, with a stable job and your own circle of friends, you had other problems to rant to your family about.

Such as the one of you being currently without a stable apartment since you were far too non-confrontational to tell your former roommate that no, her boyfriend couldn’t move into your house in your stead.

He had been already living with her quite stably and in all truth, you hadn’t ever enjoyed nor her nor the apartment, hence it had seemed like a sign to actually seek out another place.

What you hadn’t accounted for was that you lived in a time period having the worst house crisis ever, which had you crashing at your brother’s place and as much as you loved him, he was a former frat boy who had never grown up at the respectful age of twenty-seven.

Yu might have been a good brother but as a roommate was even worse than your previous one. A fact that he could feel deep in his bones since you’d oftentimes be glaring at him for having forgotten the toilet seat up or having left dirty dishes in the sink.

With this threat over his head, of course, he had moved onto trying to help you find an apartment nearby and one special night he had come back with an ample smile and a prompt proposal.

“My friends told me that they’d have a room you could rent till you find an apartment”.

Albeit good news you weren’t eager to move from a former frat boy's house to another, although you couldn’t be exactly picky.

“... you remember Satorou and Suguru, right?”.

And such names brought you to further want to shoot down the idea.

As you and Yu were barely a few years apart in age, you had oftentimes hung out with him and his friends and you knew everybody in his circle, especially Satorou Gojo who had been your - impossible - teen crush.

An arrogant boy who had many times made fun of you and your obvious inability to stop showing your heart on your shoulder.

Geto Suguru was his best friend and now boyfriend; you had a happier memory of Geto; if anything because he was far nicer than Gojo, always trying to have you included in the conversation.

The thought of sharing an apartment, albeit your conditions, had you definitely a tiny bit resisting, especially as you hadn’t seen either since high school had ended and it’d have made for an uncomfortable fit.

Not to talk about the fact that back then they had been friends and now they were a couple.

You were desperate, but were you desperate enough to third-wheel a well-established couple of two people towards whom you had harbored teenage crushes for?

Evidently yes, as you had agreed to Yu’s suggestion and in a week, you had moved into Geto’s and Gojo’s apartment, thankful that only the former was there when you came with all your belongings and an awkward gratitude on your face.

Gojo was away on a business trip and Geto greeted you warmly; he did remember the past times and he was quick to have you at ease as you insisted that you were beyond grateful for the room and you’d be moving out as soon as you found something on the market.

“Don’t worry” he had commented, as you sat onto a box during a break from settling everything around the place “... it isn’t like we had put this room at use. In all truth, the whole apartment is quite big for the two of us, although Gojo insists that it’s necessary”.

“I am just glad that I get my own private bathroom with a washing machine. I swear to God that Yu broke his own the year he moved in” you had promptly joked back, as awkwardness was swiftly turned into a familiarity that felt better fit for now that you were adults.

For the entire week, you had been careful and a bit anxious, worried that a single mishap might send you back to your brother, although soon you realized such a thing wouldn’t have happened.

Geto was welcoming and while you worked in the body shop throughout the day, he’d spend his mornings in university to fill his position as a teacher’s assistant, oftentimes coming back in the early afternoon to deal with lessons and such at home.

You didn’t bother each other, although you worried the harder of the two might be Gojo.

You were a bit worried he might pick up on your crush and tease you, and when the bell rang signaling him coming back home - “he can’t be trusted with his keys, alone” - you had sprung up as if something had prickled your ass, fast enough that Geto shot you a slight amused look.

“Don’t worry, it’s just Gojo and I have warned him to be on his best behavior” such a comment didn’t ease your jumpiness, if anything it worsened it, because if Gojo had to be told to be on his best behavior…

«I am back, my beloved».

Well, he hadn’t certainly outwore the whole drama queen attitude and although it was a bit frustrating, you couldn’t help a slight smile at such a thing noticing that even Geto grumbled before coming to meet his boyfriend halfway through.

«… can’t believe that you didn’t even think of coming to get me at the airport».

«That’s punishment for that time you came to greet me at the airport with a PornHub sign, Toru».

You definitely hid a small laugh underneath your hand as the two came back and you felt like you should have definitely bolted for your room, although it might have been rude.

Satorou Gojo hadn’t grown any less ugly in these years, if anything his instant charm had definitely heightened and paired with Geto’s sullen beauty, you were halfway through drooling wide awake.

«Baby Haibara!» you were promptly greeted, though, and you were startled when Gojo brought you in a tight hug, his face eagerly looking into your own «… haven’t you grown, have you? You were right, Suguru! She’s quite pretty, isn’t she?».

You startled at the compliment, and in such a movement your attention shifted from Gojo upon Geto, who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, with pinkish cheeks as he went to lightly deck the back of his boyfriend’s head. Lovingly, obviously.

«I… well, I… it’s good to meet you as well, Gojo… I mean, Mr….».

«Mr. Gojo is my father and you are literally the sister of one of my best friends, hence the two things don’t match» he commented a bit more seriously, although with a softer smile «… have you grown bored with Suguru and his old man habits?».

«Fuck you, Satorou» Geto growled although without any true bite as he gently patted his boyfriend’s back. Even in such a gesture there was a casualty that had you feeling like you were far too much in such a scenery.

«I… everything.. I… I am doing fine» it was the worst and most awkward phrasing of the words that you could come up with, especially as it wasn't what you had been asked, but you couldn’t take it back, just sprint to your room under the excuse that you’d have a shift soon.

«Alright».

Gojo had pouted lightly, almost adorably and you had to stop halfway through the dining room and your own to catch onto your breath and curse yourself out for having behaved probably quite rudely.

Still, as you slowly regained a steadier heartbeat, you were startled to hear Geto and Gojo talking and albeit you were far more intruding, you were quick to lend an ear to such a conversation, if anything to assure yourself they wouldn’t be gossiping about you between your back.

«You had to go and scare her, didn’t you?» Geto screeched lightly, again more annoyance than true frustration «I told you to behave on the phone!».

«Oh, c’mon! I wasn’t that bad» you had a distinct inkling they might be talking about you, although you tried not to overthink it «… and it isn’t like I told her that she’s ugly or anything! I was just stating the obvious».

«And did you have to mention to her what I told you in a private conversation?».

You didn’t know what was more startling: that Gojo thought you truly pretty or that Geto had, indeed, told him that he found you beautiful.

Had this happened when you had been in high school, you’d have fainted, knocked your head into something and probably needed a trip to the nurse office.

Right now you almost simply risked stumbling on your feet.

«By the way…» you were definitely eager for a change of topic «… is that kikufuku?».

«Yeah, Satorou, your eyes are working» again that exhaustion although from the sound noise of a ‘smack’ you had an inkling that Gojo had just received a kiss «… she cooked it for you, by the way. Wanted to make a good impression».

You flustered at Geto exposing you: you had slaved the night before to cook the sweet treat as you had definitely wanted to at least ease whatever tease Gojo might be with food, thinking that if he was too busy eating his favorite treat, he wouldn’t have you flustered, although your cheeks did heat up and it was a perfect time to seriously go up your room.

Through this awkward moment, you had moved onto a more comfortable pace, especially as each of your usual timetables seemed to fit snuggly with each other, as Gojo would oftentimes work from home till late hours which would imply that when you came back from the graveyard shift, he’d be in the kitchen ravaging the expensive ice cream he got for such occasions till he got brain freeze.

After a few denials of joining him in the act, you had eventually moved into such an activity, swearing to keep it a secret from Geto although you were well aware that he knew it all too well.

Through the two months that passed, you learned soon that they weren’t anymore the immature boys they had been back there and although Geto kept his moods and Gojo his terrible humor, they weren’t so bad, enough that once the initial awkwardness was exhausted.

You had taken also onto hanging with them, although at first you had thought it’d be awkward and you’d be third-wheeling always, but instead as much as there’d be moments where Geto and Gojo would be each other’s partner, it never felt heavy nor intruding.

Aside from that time that you had been awoken through the night by heavy steps and barely held in laughter, startled to find that it was a wasted Gojo while Geto dragged him along inside the house.

«What happened?» you asked, not having immediately clocked the drunkenness out of Gojo, as Geto startled at your presence sending you a slightly hysterical smile of obvious awkwardness.

«He… well, he had one too much, darling» the pet name immediately had you flustered although you were startled when it was Gojo who reacted to it.

Not that it should startle you that a couple had a pet names.

«… no worries, I’ll put him to sleep. Sorry for having bothered you or woken you…».

«You should join our party!» Gojo murmured slurring through his entire speech as you shot him a tiepid smile.

«Can’t. Gotta work tomorrow» and you made to turn around as clearly you were intruding and you did have work in the morning, startled at the call out of your name «… huh?».

«Why wer… weren’t you… tonight?».

You didn’t understand Gojo fully as Geto tried to usher him and just resulted with his boyfriend slamming his lips onto his own, a bit sidetracked from whatever he meant to say.

That was decidedly far more intimate than you should have witnessed, still your feet were stuck on the ground as you witnessed the sloppy way in which the two exchanged an obviously passionate kiss.

You felt decidedly like a pervert, ducking away as soon as your feet started walking again, as you heard your name called out again although you didn’t turn around, smashing your head in the pillow and trying not to think about the scene you had witnessed.

Nor the way that Gojo had seemed eager for you as well, moving onto Geto only as a distraction.

Was it… no it wasn’t like that.

They were boyfriends.

Had been for the past four years and they were stable and wouldn’t have definitely any interest in you.

The awkwardness had by breakfast stemmed away with Gojo apologizing earnestly as you tried to hide your face not to show your obvious eyebags since you hadn’t been able to fall asleep after witnessing the whole ‘scene’.

Nothing had ever been mentioned and you had put any doubting thought to the rest, till the day that Gojo pushed you aside one day while Geto was at some seminary:

“I’ll be leaving for a month in a few days. A long business trip to deal with some family staff as well” he had explained without his usual slight amusement twinkling in his pretty blue eyes “Gotta ask you something. A favor if you will”.

You had promptly thought that it’d be to handle some stuff around the house, which you didn’t mind as you tried to make up for their help through both helping around the house - neither seemed to have a good hand for different maintenance tasks - and baking to Gojo’s heart content.

“Stay close to Geto, while I am away, alright?”.

You had been a bit taken a back but not startled, nodding eagerly.

“It’s no problem, I don’t mind usually… we actually had plans…”.

“I know” he had gently smiled as if thinking about you and his boyfriend going out without him, before growing serious “... when I am away… for long… he doesn’t do well”.

“I’ll make him company!” yeah, if you had had Gojo as a boyfriend, you wouldn’t have been all too happy to be left. Especially for a month “... no worries, at all! I actually…”.

“It isn’t just about company” again that somber tone which was so unlike his usual happy go-lucky and cocky attitude “... I… you must have noticed that sometimes… Suguru… he tends to isolate himself”.

You had, indeed, noticed that sometimes Suguru would overwork himself and the one fight that you had witnessed between the two had been about him not ‘properly taking care of himself’.

You hadn’t meant to snoop any further, rushing to get out and go bother Yu before the actual fight started but you had still heard Suguru’s defeated voice saying ‘you can’t fucking cure me, Satorou’.

“... he… he doesn’t do well, and I fear for long… time period”.

Well, that did complicate the whole idea you had had of ‘keeping an eye out on him’ while Gojo was away, although you didn’t mind it.

If anything, the sole reason why you suddenly felt a bit unconfident about it was the fact that you weren’t sure whether you were the best person for such a task.

Still, as if reading your worries, Gojo was quick to breath lightly and say:

“... he likes you. I do know that and I think that he’d appreciate it. Or at least I’d do”.

And fixed with those gorgeous bright blue eyes, you hadn’t had any choice but to agree to such a favor, being thanked by a tight hug that had you flustered as you brushed your roommate away, insisting that you’d be late for work.

In the end, you had thought that it couldn’t be too bad, especially as the first week was pretty calm with you and Geto going to the movies on the weekend and then spending the evening in some diner downtown that he showed you happily, explaining to you a few anecdotes about Gojo having almost gotten banned from it.

The second week seemed a bit more trialing with Geto oftentimes overworking himself and you finding him still up when you came back early in the morning from a late night shift.

He was always working and although worried you believed he might be submerging himself in work to avoid thinking about Gojo.

When you updated Gojo - such a thing always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you felt like you were slowly betraying Geto’s trust into you - he didn’t seem all too worried and the gravity of the situation didn’t hit you fully till halfway through the third week, when you got a message from Gojo asking whether you could check on his boyfriend.

“He usually tells me to fuck off with my morning texts but I got nothing”.

“Maybe he just forgot to charge his phone” he had been a few times and oftentimes asked to use your power bank when he meant to go to uni that day “... I’ll check”.

You had noticed since coming to Gojo’s and Geto’s shared bedroom that Geto must be still inside and upon knocking after a moment of hesitation, you had been told to come inside just to notice that the place was quite messy.

Not exceedingly but the desk was immersed by different papers - a few graded a few messily signed - and the laptop atop of it looked precarious.

The curtains were pulled and Geto’s face was smashed against the pillow, which you felt like wasn’t already an indication and you stopped just short of the bed, softly calling out his name as if not to startle him.

As if he hadn’t told you to come inside.

«… need anything» came a light peep that aimed to be far more curt than it truly was, having you almost giggle hadn’t it been that you were worried.

You now understood Gojo’s seriousness when he had talked about it with you.

«Not going to uni, today?».

You had by now learned their routines and usually Geto would be already out of the bed, having breakfast with you by now.

«… anything happened? Didn’t sleep well?».

«You sound like, Toru» he muttered with that same bitter tone as if he meant to discourage you from moving any further, although he didn’t know that you could be far more stubborn.

Your concern was genuine, not out of devotion for Gojo.

Although you wouldn’t have admitted it even under torture, you cared for your roommates.

Deeply and far more than a normal roommate, but such a thing would have been ushered underneath the carpet for now.

«Mmh, I am not half as pretty as him though» with a playful tone, you gently sat down on one of the sides of the bed, mindful not to touch him so as not to overwhelm him.

You cursed yourself for not having done further research or having asked Gojo for any other advice, as you felt severely underprepared for handling the situation.

«… no, you are» you were startled by the slight mutter, definitely thinking that he might have been saying something else and it was muffled by the pillow, but what he spoke of next was quite jarring «… and not half as annoying as him. Still, a bit because you want to fix me, but…».

«I don’t want to fix you» you stated clearly, a bit taken aback and trying to hold back the tight annoyance you felt for Geto’s assumptions «… but I also can see that this isn’t … healthy. Like did you get any sleep last night?».

Geto seemed startled by the comment, lightly turning to you to show you his face and from the prominent eyebags around his eyes, you could tell he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, which in turn had you soften your expression much to his dismay.

«You don’t have to worry for me» he grumbled, making to turn to the other side «… whatever Toru got you up to…».

«Well, I… it isn’t just Toru» you shut him down promptly as you found that it was true. If you had come upon the scene unprompted, you’d have also wanted to do anything, because… well, because you lied Geto and you didn’t want him to suffer «… I am worried about you, alright? Is there… is there anything I can do…?».

«Just let me rot in bed».

That did seem like a rather… extreme situation, you thought as you lightly inched closer to him if anything to stall him in turning his face away.

«… this isn’t.. well, this isn’t your burden to bear».

«You talk so negatively, Geto» you couldn’t help but mutter, feeling yourself become flustered at your oblivious moment, although it did stall Geto’s own movements as he went to again hide his face in the pillows «… if I was bothered, I wouldn’t have asked, believe me».

«No, you’d have still because you are nice. So sweet like the candy that Toru can’t give up».

You almost wished for the ground to swallow you whole, as this man was suffering and you were having the time of your life under such revelations, although you should have taken them with a grain of salt; just because Geto thought you pretty and sweet, it didn’t mean that he’d have left his committed relationship for you.

Not that you wanted him to.

«… I’ll be fine».

«I don’t doubt it» you muttered gently as one of your hands finally did what it had been aching to do since you had been blessed with Geto’s bedhead, pushing a few strands away as you undid the man bun with which he had slept.

That couldn’t be comfortable, could it? It wasn’t an excuse to pass your hands through the silky tresses.

«… but I’d like to help… if… if there’s anything I can do, alright?».

For a moment, you thought the worst of it as Geto didn’t seem responsive and you’d be ushered out, which would have entailed for a rather anxious morning at work as you doubted that he’d have done anything truly… serious but the thought of him laying there definitely negative and catastrophic thinking had your heart clutch lightly.

As one would with a dear friend, obviously.

Then you were startled out of your thoughts.

«… can you… can you do something?» and you should have startled at how eagerly you’d have done anything «… hold me, please».

You were startled by the request, expecting for him to ask you to leave him alone or call Satorou. Not definitely such a request and while it filled you with warmth and comfortability, you couldn’t help but slightly frown and Geto noticed it as well.

«… knew that it’d be too much» he muttered and although his words were a clear grumble, you could feel the wetness in tears lacing them «… I am too much».

«No, no!» you rushed to pacify him, cursing yourself for your reaction «… it’s just… I am… I am not Satorou».

You started at the comfort with which you had called Gojo by his first name.

You had been roommates for months by now and yet, you hadn’t ever said anything so informal.

«… it’s just… I am not sure whether… it’d be… well, whether it’d be proper».

Considering what you had been thinking, it was the least you wanted to deny, but at the same time you didn’t want to break any boundaries nor take advantage of a moment when Suguru was so clearly and desperately vulnerable.

He seemed to catch onto the fact that your hesitation wasn’t due to him but your own awkward uncomfortability and insecurity.

Hence you were startled when his hand went onto your own and gently laced your fingers together in a move that was far too intimate.

You tried not to react so as not to startle him nor make him feel rejected.

«It’s no problem» he muttered gently as if he meant to be the one consoling you «… I know that you aren’t him. And he knows that I’d have asked you this».

You startled at the confession that they might have discussed this.

Afterall, Suguru had mentioned that he knew that Gojo had asked you to keep him company, although it was… strange to think that they had talked about you… also comforting him. It wasn’t weird, it was just… awkward.

As for the whole situation.

«I don’t want… I don’t…» you were stumbling and couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

Your friend was definitely going through something and you couldn’t reign yourself in to give him a hand. Such a thought finally brought you back on Earth: it wasn’t like Suguru was trying to get you to cuddle with him for funsies, as he clearly needed just comfort.

There was nothing more than the willingness and need for help in such a situation and you’d have looked to it this way, ending the stumbling and silly words.

«Alright» you relented softly as Suguru seemed startled by your sudden agreement but still raised up the duvet to let you in comfortably which you did, ditching your phone on the nightstand «… better?».

You were startled when the Suguru smashed his whole body against you although he had, indeed, asked to be held, which you provided swiftly as your arms went around his shoulders while his own settled to your waist.

You were thankful he set his head in the crook of your neck because having to actually look at him in such an intimate setting would have left you scorching.

He hummed as he felt content with the position, all too glad when you resumed the hair caresses you had been indulging before and cooing softly.

His obvious darker thoughts seemed calmer as you felt him fall asleep within half an hour as he had to be exhausted.

With a considerable amount of stretches you reached to promptly get your phone and alert Gojo that things seemed settled for the matter.

“Hope it’s alright, we are cuddling” you wished to text him but somehow it felt a tad… crass. You settled onto a simple “I’ll handle it” just to be answered by a soft “... you are a little miracle, baby Haibara”.

You wouldn’t have ever outgrown the nickname, would you?

You also alerted work that you’d be taking the day off for a ‘family emergency’ and considering your streak of perfect presences they didn’t seem all that annoyed, unlike Suguru when he woke up a few hours later, right as your arms were starting to cramp.

After a few moments to realize his surroundings and a swift tightening of his hold on your waist to bring you closer, he startled.

«Shit! I…what are you doing here?» you thought for a moment of the worst, when he added «… shouldn’t you be at work? Shit… I… don’t tell me that I kept you from going, I swear to fucking…».

«No worries, I wasn’t looking forward to working on Naoya’s car» you muttered lightly as this specific client never trusted you with his car due to being a woman, bringing forward a rain of gaslighting and mansplaining that didn’t make you eager to face him or his car «… feeling a bit better?».

Although not fully convinced, Suguru nodded lightly, yawning.

«Want to try to get out of bed for breakfast?» he shook his head, instead lightly turning to have you spoon him as he backed into your chest having you giggle «… alright, I am bringing you breakfast in bed, but what… what about a shower, then?».

«Please don’t get up» he immediately shot down your idea and hadn’t you been worried sick, you’d have found him impossibly cute «… and not really… I just… I truly don’t want to get out of bed».

«Understandable» you said gently as you could only guess that he had been overworking himself to his own core. The thought having you guilty as you should have noticed it before «… well, what if I make you a deal?».

He perked up, although he didn’t turn around not fully acknowledge the thought of getting out of bed.

«… what if… well, what if we stay here for an half an hour more and then… then you get in the shower while I cook breakfast and we eat it in bed?».

The whole set up seemed quite romantic although you tried not to think about it.

«Are you… suggesting I stink?» at that you lightly nosed into Suguru’s hair, as he weakly laughed and you felt the remble brush against your ribs.

«Smell of smoke» you did notice him smoking a few times outside of the house and you could only guess he’d do it especially when stressed «… and a shower might be good. Always gets me relaxed after work, especially as I do stink».

Working with oils and cars wasn’t certainly the cleanest of jobs, although you enjoyed it.

«I just…» you waited patiently for his next works, lightly rubbing your nose against the exposed skin of his neck as you had noticed that Suguru seemed to enjoy it, relaxing the tension of his shoulders «… have this… fear that I’ll crumble. That everything will go to shit if I leave the bed».

It felt so… desperate and suddenly you wanted to hug Suguru tight to yourself and gently tell him that you wouldn’t have let such a thing happen.

That you’d have held him up no matter what, no risk of crumbling in your arms.

Still, you were his boyfriend. You weren’t Satorou and it’d have been… thoroughly inappropriate.

«… it’s silly» Suguru filled the silence that your reflections had created and soon you sprung in action leaving behind your overthinking.

«No, no it isn’t… I… certain days I… feel the same… I mean… I don’t pretend that I can understand what you are going through, but it’s very much not silly» you promised softly to him «… and what if I… what if I stuck around to ensure that you won’t crumble? I… I am a mechanic, I am pretty good in fixing things before they crumble in pieces».

It felt cheesy and you cringed at your words once they left your mouth but you also felt the way that Suguru stalled softly in his thoughts, his mind becoming quiet as he eventually conceded:

«I’ll try the shower» well, that was far more than you’d have liked «… but… but can you stay in bed? Not go to make us breakfast».

Your stomach did protest at that, but you nodded softly.

The rest of the day was spent with Suguru constantly beside you, as you spent the morning in bed with you putting on a silly TV series to help you both shift your minds away from your negative thoughts.

He felt better in the afternoon when Gojo called over and he did insist that you stayed there, getting absolutely teased for your Lightning McQueen pajama.

He did eat a light lunch and you managed not to make him grade any papers but instead read a bit and especially drink every hour when you’d show up with a bottle or a cup.

The following day was better although you did take the whole week off your job, much to Suguru’s mortification although you insisted that holidays were overdue.

And you enjoyed your time spent cuddling and chatting.

After the initial awkwardness of you being unsure of his boundaries, you had grown quite comfortable with Suguru in the next two weeks that followed Gojo’s return.

Still, it startled that upon the white-haired man being back your budding relationship with Geto was stalled.

You hadn’t expected him to be so physical with you - especially when it was clearly platonic, no matter the lingering touches - but it seemed that upon Gojo’s comeback, he had retired from you, speaking only when necessary.

It felt awkward and you were a bit hurt: on one side you worried whether you had broken some boundary as you helped him recover and he might be reinstalling them or actively hurt.

On the other hand, you couldn’t help the slight feeling of having been used and then ditched once Geto’s true partner came back.

You did console a bit through work and Gojo, who had insisted to return the favor you had done him by taking you out to dinner at your favorite place on a night when Suguru was out with some uni buddies.

You had been startled when he had held your hand on the way there and flirted with you so openly to the point that by the end of the night you were red, although aware it was nothing but playful. Still, it was comforting to know that you had, at least, the friendship of one of your friends.

And maybe… something more.

You were, by now, well aware of the budding feelings towards your roommate and they were starting to be unsightly to say the least, with Gojo’s charm and Geto’s coldness.

It felt like being stuck between a hot rod and frigid water and you were starting not to enjoy such a situation, hence why when your friend, Murasaki, told you of a solution for a new apartment, you should have been delighted.

In all truth, you were only partly listening to what she was saying.

«… and it has a gym nearby and a garden… we did take the little shitter that Megumi got…» and suddenly realizing you weren’t listening to her she slightly snapped her fingers in your face «… hey! The lights are on but is anybody in the house?».

«Yeah, yeah» you promptly waved her off «… I heard you».

«My sister says that they are ready to sign you on the lease as soon as you want».

Well, that was… scary to think about, because although your whole situation with both Gojo and Geto had come to a head, you weren’t sure… whether you wanted to move away.

You blamed it on comfortability but still…

«… need time to think» you eventually stumbled out «… is it alright with your sister? I wouldn’t want to slow her or…».

«What is there to think?» your friend lightly protested «… you have been on the lookout for an apartment for a whole year and I thought that your settlement with those two was just temp… oh».

«Oh what?» you asked confused as your friend’s face opened in a smirk.

«You liiiikeeee them».

«Of course, I like them, they are my roommates» you tried to play dumb but your friend wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

«You know what I mean» she counterattacked, as you gave up and raised your hands.

«Either way, they are together and there isn’t much that I can do».

The thought of breaking apart those two for a selfish desire truly had your heart clenching, as you felt like they were perfect together and in all truth, you wouldn’t have known who to pursue if they had ever broken up.

Gojo and Geto came as a pair.

«I mean… they wouldn’t have to break up to be with you» your friend commented much to your confusion «… there’s such a thing as polyamory».

«And there’s such a thing as not even knowing whether they like me» you shouted back, finally releasing all your insecurities as you felt like you truly had no chance with either of them and their kindness for you was at first pity and now comfortability «… it’s just… it’s complex. One more reason why I should… get my head out of my ass and sign».

Murasaki must have caught the obvious discomfort on your face as she simply gently clutched one of your hands and smiled gently over the table.

«Take your time, alright?» she comforted you gently «… my sister can wait a week. If not more if you need to figure out stuff…».

«A week is enough» because if this whole situation went further than a week, you’d have definitely gone mad.

After the talk with Murasaki you had thought of taking a few good hours stuck in your room to reflect on how to move forward.

You wanted to examine the house better as you had heard static while talking with your friend and you needed to clear your mind. Desperately.

Still, right as you walked inside, you were shaken by laughter and all too soon in the kitchen you found Gojo and Geto chatting animatedly between themselves.

Although not enough for you to sneak in unnoticed.

«Back early?» Gojo called out while you distinctively noticed Geto’s slightly lowered brows as if not to raise your attention «… though you were having girls’ night».

«I am too old for that» you tried to humor the situation «… and it was just a coffee. A few updates needed to be exchanged».

«Anything interesting?» Gojo insisted noisily as Geto tried to hold him back.

«That’s none of your business, Gojo».

«Oh back to surname basis?».

«Actually…» it was a good idea to rip the bandaid as letting them know about the house would definitely have you feeling a bit better and more sure in your choice «… my friend … Murasaki… her sister is leaving her apartment and it’d be… well, it’s a nice apartment and I… well, I think I might have found another solution».

You had expected cheers at least a slight bit of happiness while a chilling silence fell between you and the boys.

And then after a swift exchange of looks, Gojo started up:

«I am telling her».

«No the fuck you are not, Satorou» Geto replied irritated, as he shot a slight look of concern to you «… you aren’t telling her shit at all».

«You aren’t the boss of me, Suguru» Gojo said with a bite as his eyes turned to focus upon you, who was growing more and more confused by the second.

«Well, I am about to be the fucking death of you, Satorou».

«What… what is going on?» you couldn’t help but mutter, definitely feeling uneasy at their fighting scene, especially as you seemed to be the main cause «… please guys, don’t… don’t fight… I am sure that…».

«Suguru likes you»

Well, that was the last thing that you ever expected to be told from Gojo, as the black haired man didn’t immediately register the words but when he did he shifted his attention swiftly from you onto his boyfriend with a betrayed look.

And then his gaze became devilish.

«And fucking Toru over her has a crush on you as well».

Well, that was certainly the last thing that you expected.

And you suddenly felt faint.

«I need to sit».

All too soon you were propped on a chair, guided by a soft hand while a calloused one offered you a glass of water that you declined.

«I don’t need to drink anything. I need a hearing check» you muttered grumpily startled by the giggles that followed your words «… did you… did you say that? Did I hear you right?».

The two exchanged a look and you thought for a moment that you had either not heard them right. Or they’d be denying it. Which would be within their right, although you don’t think that you’d have survived such a notion.

Thankfully, Geto spared the two of you as he nodded before adding.

«Satorou wasn’t meant to spur it onto you» well, that’d have been… better.

A bit chiller.

«… please forgive the asshole».

«She wants to ditch us, babe, I was just doing damage control» Gojo shot back sickly sweet as he sent a slithering smirk on Geto’s way before turning to you «… thought you should know, sweetie».

And finally it hit your brain that what you had heard was true and right.

They both liked you.

«Shit» you hissed through your breath, as Suguru tried to push the water glass towards you while Gojo gently rubbed comforting circles on your back, through the skin that wasn’t touched by the chair «… I… I am sorry. I… I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to break you apart or… shit, I am a fucking homewrecker!».

Again that awkward silence, which was stilled by a laughing outbreak coming from Gojo.

Of course, he couldn’t be serious in such a terrible moment as you realized the essence of your actions although you had yet to know how two gorgeous hot guys had fallen for you.

Or better, they liked you.

«I’ll move away as soon as possible, I… I am again… sorry I swear to God I didn’t mean to…».

«Hey, hey!» the hand on your back rubbing circles, stopped suddenly as you took a sharp intake of breath, aiming to calm yourself down «… breath, sweetheart, breath. In and out».

You followed the suggestion promptly and it did ease you up a bit, not to see dark anymore as you looked up at the two men, probably a bad idea as the sight was dizzying with the two looking worriedly at you.

«… when you are ready we can talk about it, alright?» exactly what you had hoped not to do, you thought, readying yourself for what was to happen «… take all the time you need and…».

«You both like me» you dumped down, repeating the obvious «… and I… you don’t want me to… move apartments? Why?».

«Because we both like you» Gojo told you as if it wasn’t obvious and at your disgruntled sight he went onto adding «… you are worse than Suguru over here who got into his head since you comforted him, when he realized he liked you».

Suguru refused to meet your gaze at such a confession as you turned your head towards him in utter startelement and disbelief.

Although it did make sense: he had pushed back for a specific reason and it hadn’t been because you had crossed any boundary but because he had.

«… not everybody can be as insisting and annoying as you, Satorou» he simply retorted «… excuse me for actually wanting to be decent».

«Literally not going to lie but I’d have liked Gojo’s whole behavior, because I was thinking that I had ruined our relationship» you blurted out turning slightly to Geto «… not that we have a relationship. A platonic one and…».

«Would you like a non-platonic relationship?».

Of course, Gojo had to ruin this.

«Alright I take it back…».

You went to say but Gojo lightly pinched one of your shoulder blades, getting Geto to stomp on his foot as you hissed at the pinch.

«Be nice or she won’t give us a chance!».

«At least I am doing something, Mr. ‘Wait-Till-We-Are-Sure’!».

«Can’t blame me for wanting to take things slow!».

«And boring! You forgot to mention taking things slow and boring!».

«Hey!» you called out again their attention as they had the good idea to appear ashamed at their outburst «… I still don’t understand shit, so don’t scream at each other. Fucking explain me».

«She’s hot when she’s assertive» oh God, you were already regretting this.

«Why aren’t you throwing me out if I destroyed your relationship?» you went to question.

«Why are you so dramatic?» being said by Gojo felt almost humorous «… you didn’t destroy anything. Aside from Sugu's balls, by the way».

«Satorou…» it was a low threat, although it had your cheeks lightly heated.

«Long story short: we both realized we were into you» Gojo went on ignoring his boyfriend «… and it wasn’t a simple crush, especially considering that we both seem to feel the same for you. And it’s an identical feeling to what we feel for each other».

Well, if that was unexpected.

«We like you. Genuinely and we’d like to pursue a relationship with you» Gojo went on straight to the point «… or at least that’s what Suguboo right there would say».

«… stop stealing my words» Suguru said through gritted teeth, before turning to you bashfully «… yeah, I… we… were trying to find a … better way to break it to you. To sound whether you’d be interested, which… you don’t have to be…».

«But it’d be kind of … you know… awkward if you weren’t» Gojo added much to your and Geto’s annoyance, who were trying to keep this moment as serious as ever.

Especially as you were definitely feeling a bit overwhelmed: you had come home with the intention to tell them you’d be moving soon and then now you knew they botched liked you. And they wanted a relationship with you.

It should have thrilled you, instead, you felt a dread: what if… what if things didn’t work out? What if it was a mess?

Never aside that moment you realized what Geto said about suddenly crumbling to pieces.

«You don’t have to… please ignore, Satorou, I just…» Geto’s voice took you aback «… I also would like to … apologize for how I behaved after… you know. I just… I just got worried and a bit self-conscious and I… well, I am sorry and yeah, you don’t have to…».

«Is it … is it alright if I think it over?».

It just felt too good to be true and you needed - desperately - to find the catch.

Never in your life had you been the focus of two men.

And what men were they.

Satorou with his confident and cocky arrogance but a warm gooey heart and Suguru’s tension and gentle strength.

They were far too much for you.

«Of course!» Suguru immediately answered as his own hand went to your shoulder comfortably «… all the time in the world».

«I’ll go to Yu’s house tonight, alright?».

It did feel a bit like running away but you needed it, although you did notice the slight dim in their encouraging gaze, especially as Satorou lightly huffed before assuming again his confident stance.

«Alright» Geto murmured tight-lipped but let your shoulder go and you were off for the stairs with your heart beating so fast that you didn’t know what was louder: the thumping of your feet or your heart.

You quickly packed an overnight bag shooting a message to Yu that you’d be soon at his house.

As you went downstairs, you found that the humorous laughter of when you had come inside had been squashed into a more hushed talk and when you stopped to say ‘hello’ they regarded you both tired and sad, with Geto gently kissing your forehead as a ‘goodbye’ of sorts, probably the first touch that wasn’t accidental in weeks.

“Send us a message when you arrive, alright? Don’t keep your boys up with worry” Gojo instead had teased although with his usual charm, smirking as you nodded shyly.

In the car you ditched your bag in the back and then locked yourself inside, with your hands already gripping the steering wheel tightly.

And it hit you: your crushes both corresponded to you.

It wouldn’t have ruined their relationship as you’d be simply added to their dynamics. It was the best of possible endings so why did it scare you so much?

“Because what if a day they wake up and realize that they don’t want me anymore” which felt a bit insulting to them but also spoke greatly of what motivated your honest reaction: you felt insecure.

Still, you couldn’t let insecurity dictate your life.

What if everything went bad?

What if everything went good?

At the risk of sounding as a manifestation Pinterest board, you took a deep breath and swiftly pulled on the car handle to turn around swiftly and get back in the house much to the startle of the two men who immediately came to threshold to greet you.

«Did you… forg…?».

«… was anything wr…?».

«I want to be in a relationship with you» you confessed as they immediately shut up «… and I am a bit scared. Sorry for running away and all, I just… it’s scary, alright? I never was… it never was like that easy for me with relationships. I… I was a late bloomer and this is… overwhelming».

They seemed taken aback, not even Gojo speaking with his usual chagrin.

«Still… I… if I didn’t ruin anything with the apartment and by saying I’d do to Yu’s…».

«You can’t ruin anything not even if you stepped on mine and Satorou’s heart» well, that was strangely graphic and having you flustered «… it’s… I get it, my first instinct was to run…».

«Had to stop him by the hair» Gojo sufficed a bit more relaxed than before.

«… but yeah… you can take all the time and you shouldn’t feel guilty…».

«I don’t and I don’t need time» you muttered flustered although seriously as you switched from looking to Satorou and then Suguru «… if you still want me…».

«Don’t ever doubt us that we don’t want you» Gojo was quick to shut you up as his arms wrapped around you comfortably «… we wanted you from the first moment that we saw you in our house. You fit perfectly so please don’t move away».

«Not at least till Satorou’s name is on the lease and we have free rent» Geto sufficed more relaxedly having you giggle as he squashed you and Gojo in his arm.

«You just want me for my money!»

«What else is there, babe?».

And giggling at the absolute buffoonery of your partners, you couldn’t help but think that after all your mother had been right: it might have taken a bit of time for true love to hit you in the face, to meet your ideal match.

After all, it was two of them!

credits for dividers: @/saradika-graphics

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x reader x geto #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #gojo x geto #satosugu #satosugu x reader

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engie-ivy · 7 months

Text

(A much requested sequel to Couple-Stuff! Thank you for all your enthusiasm😁)

1370 words

Part One: Couple Stuff

Remus has come to realize his relationship with Sirius isn't as platonic as he thought, and now he needs to know where Sirius stands on the matter.

Label-Stuff

Sirius is busying himself in the kitchen, chatting about some curry recipe Effie taught him and how he's going to perfect it this time. Remus is sitting on the couch, watching him and biting his lip. He can't really focus on what Sirius is saying, with the questions swirling through his head after his conversation with the girls.

What is his relationship with Sirius like?

He must admit to himself that he quite likes the idea of it not being as platonic as he previously thought, and quite dislikes the idea of Sirius being with someone else, to put it mildly.

Has Sirius been with someone else?

He knows that Sirius isn't looking for a relationship, too attached to his freedom, but he could be casually dating, or even having casual sex. With someone who isn't Remus, that is. They have never defined their relationship, so his thing with Remus doesn't have to stop him.

“Sirius,” Remus asks, and he might have interrupted Sirius in the middle of a sentence, but he barely notices. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Sirius puts down the zucchini he was about to cut and turns around, glancing around the room. “You mean… right now?”

Remus shakes his head. “No, not right now. Like, in general.”

Sirius frowns. “Like… a therapist?”

“No,” Remus says. “I mean dating. Like romantically. Or sexually.”

Sirius barks a laugh. “Right, sure Remus. After having breakfast with you, going to the Farmer's Market with you, spending the afternoon walking the dog with you, going out to eat or cooking together, and sitting on the couch watching a movie together, I've somehow been going on dates and sleeping with other men.” He rolls his eyes and turns back around, picking up the zucchini.

Remus frowns. “Is that why you haven't been dating? Because I haven't been giving you space to do so?”

Sirius puts the zucchini back down and gives Remus a stern look with his hands placed on his hips. “I haven't been dating because I haven't been giving myself space to do so. As in, a conscious choice that I made, because I wanted to.” He suddenly looks alarmed. “Wait. Do you want space to date? Is that what you're trying to tell me?”

“No, Sirius, that's not it…”

Sirius walks away from the kitchen counter and sits down on the coffee table across from Remus, the zucchini spared for now. “Then what is it?” He asks, reaching out to take Remus’ hand.

Remus stares at their joint hands, trying to figure out how to go about it. “I'm just trying to make sure we both know where the other stands, relationship-wise.”

Sirius frowns. “Where's that suddenly coming from? Did you– Did you meet someone?”

The look on Sirius’ face makes Remus immediately want to deny everything. ‘No, of course not, there's no one, don't worry!’ Only to make Sirius not look like that anymore. But he needs clarity. If he pushes just a bit more, maybe Sirius’ reaction will give him a better indication of the chances Sirius sees him as something more than a friend. So he does push. “I could meet someone. Someone who would be interested in being my boyfriend. How would that make you feel?”

“How would that make me-” Sirius lets out a disbelieving laugh. “How do you bloody think that would make me feel? Like crap, obviously. We do everything together, that will all change. No boyfriend is going to be okay with that, and I don't fancy being second choice either.”

“But then what, Sirius?” Remus asks, almost desperately. “What if I'm out in the pub and some handsome man who's exactly my type walks up to me, winks at me, and says ‘hi, are you single?’ What do you want me to say, Sirius?”

In an instant, Sirius pulls his hand away, jumps up from the coffee table and takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest, as if he suddenly has to guard himself against Remus. “You did meet someone!”

“Sirius, I-”

“Fuck you, Remus Lupin!”

Remus blinks. Sirius has never, ever, spoken to him like that. “Excuse me?”

“Fuck you, Remus,” Sirius repeats with a scowl. “This is how you tell me? By making me feel guilty about claiming you? By talking to me like I'm stupid and I need to have it explained to me that we aren't in a real relationship? Like I haven't been playing this stupid game for you! This stupid ‘yes, we act like a couple and do everything a couple does, but we don't call us a couple’-game!” He takes a breath, trying to calm himself down a little. “I feel like I've been walking this line, Remus. Being with you in all the ways I want to be with you, but not pushing it too far, not scaring you off, because I know how afraid of commitment you. And I've been telling myself that it's fine. ‘Just be happy with whatever he's willing to give you, Sirius, and be thankful that he's willing to give you so much. What does it matter that you're not putting a label on it?’” He shakes his head. “But it was never that you didn't want to commit, was it, Remus? You just didn't want to commit to me.”

Remus can't get any words out. He can barely process what he just heard, let alone form a response. So Sirius was never under the impression that his feelings were platonic? Gods, Remus really is a pillock, isn't he?

“Because you meet some stranger in a pub,” Sirius continues upon Remus’ prolonged silence. “And suddenly you're talking about dating, and relationships, and boyfriends! Words that you always carefully avoided with me!” He lets out a disbelieving laugh. “God, I'm such an idiot. I kept hoping you would eventually get there. I just didn't expect it would be five minutes after meeting a random stranger, rather than after years of carefully building what we have.” His voice breaks slightly, and so does Remus’ heart. “Or what I thought we had.” Sirius looks away. “I'm sorry, I can't… I need… Just give me a moment.”

Remus remains frozen in place as Sirius walks away and disappears into his bedroom. He loves that boy, and he has hurt that boy, and he needs to set it right. He finally snaps out of it, and jumps to his feet.

“Sirius!” He pulls open the door to Sirius’ bedroom, and comes to a halt upon seeing Sirius sitting on the bedroom floor against the wall, his knees tucked up to his chest. “Sirius,” he says, softer this time, sliding down on the floor next to Sirius, placing a hand on his knee.

Sirius lifts his head, tear streaks on his face.

Remus needs to get the biggest misunderstanding out of the way first. “There's no one else, Sirius. I promise.” He sighs. “Marlene asked me about dating other people, and the thought of you with someone else made me feel… Well, I guess a lot like you're feeling right now. Only less angry and more confused, because unlike you, I'm a berk who hadn't realized before that his feelings for you are more than platonic. I was trying to figure out where you stand on this, so I wanted to see how you would react to the idea of me with someone else.”

“Oh,” Sirius says flatly. He looks down at himself sitting crouched down on the floor of his bedroom. “Well. Not so good, I suppose.”

Remus chuckles. “No, not so good. Though I guess I could've gone about the conversation better as well.”

Sirius also chuckles. “Bloody hell, Rem. Don't start talking about meeting handsome men in the pub!”

“That's fair, that's fair!” Remus laughs, then he studies Sirius for a moment. “So… we can conclude that we both see more than friendship with the other.”

Sirius averts his eyes and looks down at his feet. “Remus, I can't casually date you. If we do this, we need to do this for real. After holding back for so long, if you give me this, I'm going to want it all. I'm going to start picturing forever with you, I'm going to start planning a future with you. If that scares you, then I can't… I can't.”

The feeling that spreads through Remus’ chest upon hearing those words is definitely not fear. “As long as you don't propose to me tomorrow, I think I can get there,” Remus says jokingly, but then he adds in a more serious tone “To be honest, Sirius, I've never been able to consider my future without you in it.” He reaches out and brushes his thumb across Sirius’ cheek, brushing away one of the tears. “I want you, Sirius, and any label you come with. Boyfriend, partner, significant other.”

“Fiancé, husband,” Sirius adds teasingly, but Remus can tell that he's carefully gauging Remus’ reaction, looking for some sign of panic.

Remus surprises himself by not feeling any panic, not at all. This is where it was always going, wasn't it? He smiles. “Yes, in time, those as well.”

#my tumblr writing #oblivious remus lupin #and they were roommates #defining the relationship #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 7 months

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 1

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule. With also writing Everybody Hurts, I don't want to make promises and fall behind. I'm a working mom with a hectic life and don't always have time to write every single day. I've been wanting to write this Steve book forever and once I got the first chapter down, I couldn't wait to share it.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 4.3K

“No, Janice, it’s absolutely hopeless. I am telling you. I’m done with dating,” you sighed as you wiped the crumbs off the table and into your hand from Eli’s after school snack.

Making your way to the garbage can, you brushed them in. Grabbing the empty cup of chocolate milk, you popped it into the dishwasher, trying to stay on top of things so you didn’t have to do a last minute clean-up when all you wanted to do was go to bed.

“You can’t just give up,” your friend urged. “Come on, girl. You’ve only been on a few dates so far. I know they’ve been duds but the right guy is out there. I know he is.”

“I really don’t think he is. I’ve been on four dates in the last month and they have all been awful. And I only went on those dates because you’ve been pushing me to put myself out there, might I remind you. I was perfectly content with my life the way it was. The only guy I need in my life is my son. I’m telling you. Good guys don’t exist.”

“Except you know that’s not true because you had one.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the reminder. That familiar pain that tightened its hold until you felt you couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter that it had been two years. Any mention of Justin’s name and you were instantly sent straight back there, struggling, fighting for air you couldn’t find, descending into the pitch black of despair that had swallowed you whole for far too long.

But you couldn’t let it consume you, not anymore. You knew what you needed to do. Remembering your therapist’s words, you didn’t fight it back, letting the pain wash over you for a moment. Accept your emotions. It’s okay to feel them. Let them come, acknowledge them, and then move on. Don’t get stuck. Forward motion. Always forward motion. Remember the 3-3-3 rule when it gets overwhelming.

Your eyes roamed through your kitchen, searching for three objects. The box of Scooby snacks that Eli had, the smiling face of his favorite cartoon dog looking up at you. The tulips on the table that you'd picked from your garden two days ago, bringing a little spring into the house. The bright painting to the left of the fridge that Eli had made for Mother’s Day last year, his handprints creating bright yellow and orange flowers, with the words If mothers were flowers, I’d pick you.

You felt yourself returning from the dark, your chest loosening as you closed your eyes, focusing on sounds now. Your son’s feet moving across the floor of his bedroom, a lawnmower running a couple houses down, the low rumble of a motorcycle driving down the street.

It was working. You wiggled your fingers, rotated your ankle, rolled your head around on your shoulders. 3-3-3. Three sights, three sounds, and three movements. And just like that, you were back. Hand on the table, you slowly sat down in one of the wooden chairs you'd so lovingly sanded and refinished the summer after you and Justin bought this house, opening your eyes. You were centered. You were okay. You were moving forward whether you wanted to or not.

He was gone. There was no changing that. And as much as you'd wanted to curl up and die after it happened, you knew you couldn’t. You had Eli, this sweet little soul who depended on you, who was hurting too, and you had to be what he needed. You had to pull yourself out of your grief to be the stability and strength he needed. Fake it until you make it, right? That had worked for a while until it didn’t.

“Hello?” your friend’s voice called through the receiver. “Hey, are you okay? Is it happening again? Do I need to come over? Come on. Just say something, honey.”

“No. No. I’m okay.” Your fingers pressed gently against your forehead, wondering if it would ever get easier. Everyone said it would and sometimes you could even go hours without thinking about him but when you did, it would all come crashing down around you. He’d left you alone, alone to care for your son, alone for eternity based on the dating pool out there. “Sorry. I just…I’m fine.”

“You sure? Because I’ve already got my keys in my hand and I can be there in ten minutes.”

You smiled. Of course Janice already had her keys in her hand. She was your lighthouse in a storm, your safe harbor, your source of encouragement and support. She’d been there to pick you up when you could barely lift your head. She’d been the one to convince you to go to therapy. She’d been the one to come over and cook dinner for Eli, playing games with him, amusing him so he wouldn’t notice that mommy was falling apart in your bedroom on days when you just couldn’t find the strength. Janice was your lifeline and you had no idea where you would be without her. You certainly wouldn’t be the functioning human being you were right now.

“No. Really. I promise you, Janice. I am fine.”

“Okay…but you know I’ve always got you. Just say the word, girl and I’m there. Anytime. Anything you need.”

“I know. And I love you so much for it.”

“I love you,” Janice stated. “You’re my soulmate, you know.”

You laughed, “What about Matt? I don’t think he’d appreciate hearing you say that.”

Your friend snorted, “Oh, he knows. It was part of our vows. Didn’t you know that? He took this woman and her best friend on the day we got married. He’s aware of his place in my life and he’s okay with it because he loves you too. Also, he doesn’t have a choice because he knows I’d get rid of him before I’d ever let go of you if he tried to make me choose. You’re always my first choice.”

Matt would never make her choose. Janice had met Matt a little over a year ago and they had just gotten married in July. It had been a beautiful outdoor wedding on the beach. You'd been the maid of honor. Janice hadn’t even asked you, not really, just rolled her eyes when you asked if she planned on it and said she didn’t have to ask because it should have been assumed. Eli had been so handsome in his little tux as their ring bearer. You had fought back tears throughout the day, memories of your own wedding day ripping you apart. But you'd held it together, reminding yourself that this was your friend’s day. You were supposed to be overjoyed for her, not wallowing as you tripped down memory lane.

You loved Matt and the feeling appeared to be mutual. He was perfect for your best friend. He was the rational to Aly’s crazy, the simple to her complicated, the organization to her chaos. He was absolutely crazy about her and every single one of her little quirks, including her intensely close friendship with you and Eli. He’d been openly accepting of you being their third wheel from day one.

They’d only gone on five dates when he offered to take Eli to the batting cages for a few hours so the girls could enjoy an afternoon. When Eli got back, red-faced and shiny, a huge smile on his face, you had given your friend a look that said everything without you having to speak. It said hold onto this one. And your friend had been smart enough to do just that. They were already talking about trying for a baby and you couldn’t wait to plan a shower and shop for all the cute little baby things. To be Auntie, to cuddle a sweet little one against your chest again, to inhale that delicious newborn smell.

Everyone always said it went by too fast. You'd thought they were crazy when you were in the midst of sleepless nights and a screaming baby, feeling it would never end. But they were not joking. Your sweet little baby, with his head of downy blond hair, just like his father’s, had somehow become a little boy in what felt like a span of seven minutes instead of seven years. You found yourself willing time to slow down, to let you keep him little for just a while longer, but it just kept racing ahead, leaving you frantically trying to catch up.

“So, anyway, what was so awful about this one?” Janice asked, bringing you back to the present moment.

“Ugh…what wasn’t awful? He showed up to the restaurant already drunk. He kept trying to touch me, stroking my arm and placing his hands on my thigh. He kept slurring about how he was going to show me the night of my life. He ordered spaghetti and was eating it with his fingers, just picking up the noodles and dropping them into his mouth. It was disgusting. His hand was in a cast and when I asked what happened, he told me he broke it punching out the car window of his ex because he caught her cheating on him last week.”

“Holy shit!”

“Seriously! I can’t make this stuff up, Janice. It’s so bad out here. I don’t know why women even bother trying. From the guy who seemed okay until I walked into his place and he had the pile of toenail clippings on his coffee table to the guy who asked for the barista’s number while I was standing next to him to the guy who invited his ex so she’d see him with me to this guy, I’m just done. Maybe we only get one shot at real love in our lives and Justin was mine. Maybe that’s all I get. I mean, it was only ten years but a decade of happiness is more than some people get. Shouldn’t I be happy with that?”

“No. I refuse to believe that,” Janice argued. “You are far too amazing to spend the rest of your life alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have you and Eli.”

“Yes, but one day, Eli will be all grown up and move out and start a life of his own. And yes, you will always have me but do you really want to live in that house all by yourself? Don’t you want someone to fall asleep next to, someone to wake up next to, someone to rub your feet after a long day, someone to be your person?”

“You’re my person. Justin was my person.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Janice, I just…this dating site thing isn’t for me.”

God, it was so awful. With the birth of the internet, online dating was a fairly new thing. But when you weren't getting e-mailed dick pics or getting asked if you were looking for a booty call, then you were getting tricked by guys who acted like they were normal until you met them and found out they were anything but.

“Okay. So, ditch the dating site. Honestly, it probably wasn’t the best idea but Lauren was going on and on about these hot guys she’d met on there. She said it was like a pond full of fish and any woman could have her pick of them. I figured it would be worth a shot. At least, it would be a good place to start. I should have known better. It’s Lauren. She’ll hook up with anybody and gets bored way too easily. I am sure a different guy every night is exactly what she’s looking for. Maybe you just need to meet someone more organically?”

You sighed, “And how exactly do you think I’m going to do that between work and Eli? I don’t have a lot of down time.”

“No, I know, but maybe try to pop into the coffee shop more or the bookstore? I mean, you could do the bar but you’re more likely to find a sleaze who’s just looking for a one night stand or the guy with the tan line where his ring should be. Lord knows I’ve made that mistake more than once. But a bookstore, a coffee shop, the library? You might find a nice guy there, an intellectual who reads and writes poetry in his spare time. Oh! Maybe find your own Mr. Coulson.”

“Except I’ve actually been kissed and I am not a reporter and I definitely am not passing for a high school student,” you laughed, remembering how in love you and Janice had been last year in the theater. “And trust me, Michael Vartan is not teaching at the local high school.”

“Okay, fair enough. But don’t give up. You deserve the world, my friend. You deserve a man who looks at you like you’re the moon and stars because you are. I know he’s out there.”

“Janice, I…”

“Mommy! You have to take me to baseball practice, remember?”

Your eyes shot over to your son and then up to the clock. You'd completely forgotten. After Matt had gotten him into baseball, he’d begged you to let him join the little league team this year at school. You'd dreaded having to lug him to practices and games, giving up what little free time you had, but you could never deny your son anything. Their first practice started in fifteen minutes and now you were going to be late. Just one more reason for the mothers in this town to judge you and your inability to do it all as a single mom.

“Shit! Janice, I have to go. Eli has baseball.”

“Okay. Ohh, maybe you’ll find a hot single dad.”

“Oh my god. Good bye,” you huffed, hanging up. Your brain raced, thinking back to the paper that had come home with him about practices. What did he need to bring? “Okay, okay. Eli, go grab your mitt and I’ll fill up a water bottle for you.”

Your son raced off up the stairs and you groaned, knowing he’d probably be yelling down to you in two minutes that he couldn’t find it. You grabbed his bright blue water bottle, quickly filling it with tap water. Was there anything else? You smacked your forehead loudly. Cleats! You were supposed to buy him baseball cleats and you hadn’t.

“Mommy! I can’t find my glove!”

You closed your eyes, inhaling slowly through your nose before making your way to the stairs, “I’ll find it. Just change into your athletic pants and a long sleeve shirt. And grab a sweatshirt, honey. It’s kind of chilly out today.”

Eli sat on the floor, pulling his pants on, when you entered the room. Your eyes did a quick scan, instantly finding the glove, lying on the floor right next to his bed. With a small smile and a shake of your head, you bent down and grabbed it, tossing it to your son just as he stood up, all dressed and ready.

“Ready to go?”

“But my shoes. I don’t have baseball shoes!” he yelled, pointing at his feet as if you weren't aware.

“I know buddy. I’m sorry. Mommy forgot but I will stop tomorrow right after work and grab you a pair, okay?”

“But then I won’t be ready for baseball! All the other kids are going to have the right shoes and I won’t!”

“Eli, we don’t have time to stop at the store right now or you’ll be late.” You walked up to your son, cradling his face, your favorite face in the world. Cobalt blue eyes, so like his father’s gazed up at you, anxious about not fitting in, not having the right things. “Look, I will explain to your coach. I’m sure he will understand.”

“He’s really nice. He’s Jeremiah’s dad. I like Jeremiah. He’s my best friend. We play superheroes at recess all the time. He’s Superman and I’m Batman. And sometimes we swap lunches because his dad always packs peanut butter and jelly and you always pack bologna and sometimes we like to switch. I asked you if he could come over and play and you said maybe but he’s never come over. Remember?”

You winced at your son’s words. It came back to you, months ago, Eli asking if his new best friend could come over to your house. You'd said maybe, the answer you gave when you didn’t have one or you were too busy to stop and really answer him. Being a single parent was hard. It was exhausting, often leaving you feeling like there wasn’t enough of you to go around.

“I’m sorry, buddy. I shouldn’t have said maybe and then forgotten about it. I’ll talk to his parents about it after practice today, okay? Now, come on. Let’s get going so you’re not too late.”

__________________________________________________________

You barely had the car in park before Eli was jumping out, racing across the pavement, eager to join his teammates on the diamond. You made your way over, taking in the gathering of young players, the air full of energy and excitement. Bringing a hand up to cover your eyes against the glaringly bright spring sun, you watched as Eli ran up to a young boy with a full head of caramel brown hair.

That must be Jeremiah. Wow, that kid was going to be all the girls could talk about when he got older with a head of hair like that. Eli pointed at him with a huge grin and you gave your son a thumbs up, letting him know you'd seen. He would never let you forget it if you didn’t follow through on setting up a playdate.

“Aly! Hey! Eli’s playing this year?”

“Oh, hi Tracy,” you replied with a smile as Jackson’s mom walked up with a coffee in hand. “Yeah. Janice’s husband, Matt, has really gotten him into baseball and he was so excited to play.”

“It’s so good that he has someone to stand in as a strong male role model in his life. You know, with his dad gone and everything.”

Your teeth gritted, the smile you were working so hard to keep plastered on your face now painful. Of course. You couldn’t possibly be enough for your son. He had to have a man in his life to be whole. It didn’t matter that you worked your ass off to make sure that your son never went without. It didn’t matter that you'd had to step up and work even harder, take on the job of two people. It would never be enough.

“Yeah, we’re really grateful for Matt. He’s really great. Eli just adores him.”

Tracy leaned in, looking like the cat who got the cream, your faults as a mother forgotten. “Have you seen the baseball coach?”

“No. I…I just got here but I do need to talk to him. Eli’s become best friends with his son this year and he’s never going to let me live it down if I don’t don’t talk to him about Jeremiah coming over to our house to play.”

“Lucky you. I’d do anything for Jackson to come play at our house if it meant his dad would come over to play too.”

“Umm…aren’t you married?”

Tracy laughed, shrugging, “I mean, what Tom doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? Seriously, wait until you see this guy. I am talking about grade A beefcake, honey.” She rolled her eyes, her head following, over to the right where a man was bent forward, pulling baseballs out of a bucket. “I just want to take a bite out of it. Have you ever seen anything so delicious?”

“Ooh! Are we talking about the coach?” asked Lilian as she idled up, her tongue running along her upper lip. “Have you ever seen such a delectable slice of cake in your life?”

You grimaced. No, they weren’t wrong. The ass that was currently up in the air, making it impossible for you not to notice, was quite nice. No. That wasn’t fair. There wasn’t a Georgia peach in existence that could outdo the one in front of you. He filled out a pair of jeans better than most women did. However, the way these women were drooling over him was pathetic. They were married. They were moms. And this guy, no matter how great his ass was, was a person. He wasn’t some piece of meat to be ogled.

“Well, thanks for pointing him out to me. I think I’m going to try to talk to him before he gets busy,” you said, eager to get away from these bored, spoiled housewives who were looking for excitement to fill their monotonous days. Striding over to him, you paused, realizing you had no idea what his name was. “Uh…excuse me? Coach?”

He straightened and turned and you gasped. Oh hell. The front view was even better than the back. Two eyes, the color of honey, peered down at you, coating you in their sticky sweetness, filling your mouth, making it impossible to speak. Jeremiah came by that head of hair honestly, this man's caramel locks falling effortlessly around his face. He smiled and it was even worse, lightning striking you where you stood. His entire face was pure sunshine, warming you from the inside out.

“Yeah?” he encouraged when you hadn’t said anything.

“Uh…oh…I’m so sorry,” you stammered, eyes closing, shaking your head. What the hell was wrong with you right now? “I’m Eli’s mom, Y/N.”

His eyes lit up with recognition, his hand running through those beautiful locks. Another lightning strike, but in an entirely different place, when you realized how large his hands were. Long thick fingers that had you thinking things you really should not be while standing at a child’s little league practice. Shame filled you as you realized you were no better than those moms you'd just judged. You simple weren't saying your thoughts out loud.

“Oh! Of course. Jeremiah talks about Eli non-stop. He’s been bugging me for months to have him come over.”

“Well, that’s actually why I came over to talk to you. Eli’s been bugging me too and I promised him that I wouldn’t leave practice without setting up something with you. So…is there any time over the next week that works for Jeremiah to come play?”

“What works for you?”

“Any afternoon or evening is okay, as long as there’s no practice. But of course then Jeremiah would be unavailable too so that would be silly. And obviously, you’d be coaching so you know when there’s practice. But I, yeah, anyway, I work in a pediatrician’s office and I get off at three every day so that I can get Eli from school. So, I am available for a date. I mean, for the playdate. For the kids. To have a playdate. At my house.”

The corner of his mouth curved into an amused smile and you just wanted a hole to open up in the dirt and swallow you. Why were you tongue twisted like a fifteen year old girl who was trying to talk to the cutest guy at school? You were a thirty-two year old woman. You'd been a wife. You were a mother. You were a nurse. You were educated. You'd gone to college. You should be able to string words together to make a coherent sentence.

“How about tomorrow?” he asked and you noticed how his eyes flitted down to your left hand, your recently bare ring finger. You'd removed it a month ago when Janice had kindly urged you it was well past time. “I actually have a meeting tomorrow night and my best friend is busy so I have no one to watch Jermiah. If you wouldn’t mind him coming your way for a couple hours, it would really help me out.”

“Oh, no. That would be fine. What time?”

You did not focus on the fact that he needed a babysitter. You did not think about how it sounded like Jeremiah’s mom wasn’t in the picture. You definitely did not feel a thrill that made your stomach flip at the thought of what that could mean for you. Nope. No reason for you to care if he had a woman in his life.

“Four thirty? My meeting is at five. It shouldn’t take more than an hour so I should be there by six thirty.”

“Four thirty is great. I’ll make the boys dinner and I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to have a couple hours to play. No need to rush or anything.”

His head tilted, tongue tracing his bottom lip, one eyebrow lifting, “Or I could grab a pizza on my way over. You know, as a thank you for helping me out and everything.”

“Oh…” Your stomach twisted at his words, the drop on the roller coaster, plunging fast, fear and excitement colliding within you at the thought of him hanging out at your house. The two of you sitting at your kitchen table, sharing food, talking. Those warm eyes, like the earth when the sun comes up in the morning, staring into yours. “That would be nice. I mean, Eli will be ecstatic. He would eat pizza every night if I’d let him.”

“Great.” He flashed you that smile again and you swayed on your feet, completely dazzled by that flash of white teeth, the way his eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Daddy! Come on! Stop talking! We’re ready for practice!”

“Duty calls,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows as he leaned in, his mouth so close to yours that you could smell the peppermint gum on his breath. “We’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah…see you tomorrow.” You stood, frozen as you watched him make his way toward the group of second graders eager to start running around the bases. No, you definitely were not checking out his ass again. Nope. Definitely not. It suddenly hit you that you still didn’t know his name. Cupping your hands around your mouth, you yelled, “I didn’t get your name!”

He turned, grinning, “Steve! Steve Harrington!”

Chapter 2

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