#the ONLY reason you should EVER put your hands on your kids is if it is the only way to get them out of immediate danger

[izvmimi]

cw: angst. character death. you and izuku are married and have a young son. godparent!katsuki. katsuki has an unnamed wife.

Your son always starts a fuss when you bring him to his grandmother’s house, but for some reason, as you slowly trudge up the steps to your mother-in-law’s modest home (she’d refused to let her son move her out into your large shared home or even a much larger, more roomy domicile of her own), you find that your son is eerily quiet, as though he can sense the turmoil inside of you and is choosing to give you a much needed break. 

By the time he makes it into Inko’s arms, he’s always less fussy, but today he’s quietly looking at you, curiously, as if he’s waiting for you to break down and cry. He’s unnerving that way, gifted with practically the same emotional intuition as your sweet husband, and it doesn’t help that he has practically the same face. Inko is quick to take your behaving not-yet-toddler from you, and gives you a sympathetic look. She is not going to the funeral yet because she plans to watch your son, but she’s spent practically every night this week at Mitsuki’s house, preparing food and helping her through her tears. You’ve helped your best friend, Katsuki’s wife, grieve similarly, but now that the final moment has come to lay him to rest, you feel dread rising in the pit of your stomach. 

You should not show your face. After all, you killed Katsuki Bakugou.

After you repeat this statement again out loud to your mother-in-law, shaky hands folded in your lap as she hands you a glass of water and tries to steady your nerves, she reminds you, as all good mothers would, that it wasn’t your fault.

He’d meant to save you. You hadn’t been the one to force an unclosable hole through his chest, and if it hadn’t been you standing and vulnerable in that particular spot, it would have been someone else he’d have aimed to save. 

Perhaps that last part is true. Or perhaps, because you are one of his closest friends' treasures, he fought a little bit harder, moved a little bit quicker and a little bit more recklessly to ensure that you made it out, that you’d be the one to explain to your best friend why her husband is not coming home to dinner, rather than he have to explain to Izuku why the mother of his child is no longer of this world. It’s a moment that plays in your mind constantly ever since you first heard the sickening crunch of bone and sinew give way, the spray of your child’s godfather’s blood soaking your clean clothes.

You’d just been at the grocery store and run into each other by chance. It’s been over a decade long gag now to pretend you hate each other more than everything while acknowledging that you’ve both intertwined your lives with a person the other holds terribly dear. When you saw Katsuki you crinkled your nose, a joke akin to ‘look what the cat dragged in’ muttered in some variation by you both, before walking side by side and catching up. The four of you had dinner plans that weekend anyway and Katsuki takes the idea of godparent far too seriously for being an only child, and thus was far too interested in what you were putting in your cart.

“I read kids develop their tastes early in life and I don’t think this” - he picks up a six-pack carton of juice that was admittedly laden in sugar from your cart - “is particularly conducive to healthy development.”

“Katsuki, I didn’t ask you,” you hiss, snatching it out of his hands, then sheepishly add, “in fact, that was mine.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“Figures for all that chaotic energy you have,” he jokes. 

You had more to say to him, and then merely ten minutes later, in a flurry of explosions and debris, screams and scattered people,  you were staring straight through his chest to the other side.

“Fuck.”

Fuck? You thought. Katsuki looking at you, then looking at the gaping wound in his chest, then looking at the incapacitated villain and the destroyed supermarket, then looking back at your hands deep in his wound, pressing down at his chest desperately to stop the bleeding as best you can, tears running down your cheeks. You who so often were joined at the hip with the one he loves, who’s grown to merge their natural smile with Izuku’s over time, whose face is distorted in fear and shock and desperation to keep him alive so you don’t have to tell your best friend that you are the reason he’s no longer here to protect her.

Because he was protecting you. For his friend. For his wife. For the kid you’ve entrusted to him in case something happens to your or Izuku's child, who better not get that goddamn juice box.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

You want to scream, no it’s not, it will never be, how am I supposed to tell her-

“I forgive you. I’m not mad. Just take care of her, okay?”

Katsuki’s voice was the quietest, calmest you had ever heard it be since you’ve met him and you hate that he smiled, and you hate hate hate that Izuku would have done it for him, too. 

The shaking turns into sobs again and Inko holds your hands tightly. Your son is upstairs, too occupied with toys, again far too polite and considerate, and you wonder if he’ll remember how hard you are crying right now. If he’ll remember his father crying and holding you that terrible evening. You wonder what he’ll do when he’s old enough to know why his auntie doesn’t have a husband and why there are four people smiling in that wedding photo that hangs in your home instead of the three he knows, and who bought him nearly half of his books and toys. 

“I can’t go there,” you whisper again. 

Inko tilts her head. 

“But she needs you,” Inko murmurs. You wipe your tears with the back of your hands. Your husband, who isn’t the coward you are, is already at the funeral, working through funeral arrangements. Your throat dries up at how much he must be apologizing again, or perhaps he’s not apologizing at all, keeping his head up high and reminding everyone that Dynamight died saving someone important to him and what he did was not a mistake. 

“Kacchan is a true hero.” Izuku repeated softly into your ear, then to himself, then to you again, then to the world, then to his wife. His wife who should hate you but is too mournful to bother.

“I can’t go there,” you repeat. “I cannot look her in the eyes.”

But your best friend needs you and cried in your arms that very first night.

Inko nods.

“But she’d do it for you,” she says, softly.

She would do it for you, the same way Izuku would have done it for Katsuki. 

…

Moments later, you’re squeezing Dynamight’s widow’s hand as Izuku praises him, and you wish it hadn’t turned out this way but you’re at least fulfilling your promise.

Just take care of her, okay? 

You will, for the rest of your life.

[steviewashere]

Balls in Laundry Baskets: An Apology

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Bitchy/Mean Steve Harrington, Mean Eddie Munson (Both Briefly and For Good Reason) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair Friendship, Eddie Munson Gets Put in His Place, Lucas Sinclair is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Protective Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Lucas Sinclair, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Means Well He's Just Defensive, Hurt People Hurt Others

This is chapter one, which also includes the first two pages that I already posted. Please keep your expectations low, as I'm still working on the second and final chapter.

Read on AO3

Read Chapter Two

🏀—————🏀 “So, you and Eddie, huh?”

Steve startles at the sound of a voice, deep and hushed, from where he’s been waiting in Hawkins High’s parking lot. Hellfire was supposed to be out by now—6:50pm if his watch is correct—it’s their first time back since March and it would be cordial. But it seems that only Lucas got that memo.

“Jesus Christ, Sinclair!” He yelps. Holds his right palm flat against his chest, trying his best to rescind the spike of panic that is crawling through him. “I thought I told you to quit doing that,” he harshly whispers, rubbing his palm against his shirt. The scratchy material of his polo a balm against his nerves.

“Sorry,” Lucas sheepishly murmurs. Speaking at a normal volume, he asks again, “So, you and Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes. “What about me and Eddie? Can’t I just hang out with the guy without being pestered?”

Lucas shrugs. “You can do whatever you want,” he states, but Steve can already tell there’s somehow more. “But I didn’t think you two would be…buddies. Considering how he feels about, y’know, sports and whatever.”

For a moment, Steve considers Lucas’s approach. His fidgeting hands and his slightly closed off eyes. The hunch to his shoulders and the general unease that accompanies talking about Eddie. Which, that’s particularly odd. Aren’t they buddies, Steve questions himself. Wrapped up in the Hellfire club, their mutual interest in Dungeons & Dragons, the ragtag group of nerds that they are—all of that is perfect for their oddball friendship, at least Steve thought so.

“What’s wrong with you and Eddie?” Steve asks, beating around the bush. He doesn’t do cryptic. And he especially doesn’t do it with somebody like Lucas, a kid already smarter than him by several margins.

There isn’t an answer right away. But Lucas’s shoulders drop. His eyes go from frustrated to…sad. “Remember my championship game?” He asks, though it seems a bit much of a topic change. What does this have to do with Eddie, Steve has to wonder.

“Well, yeah,” he answers instead, “I was there. Had a pathetic date with a girl I hardly enjoyed being around. Mocked Tammy Thompson with Robin. Watched you get that winning shot. It was a, genuinely, awesome championship game.” And that’s the truth. It’s the best one he’s ever witnessed. Which is saying something, considering he’d played several championship games. All of them, though, were major losses. He’ll take those to the grave with him, with how often his previous basketball teams teased him.

Lucas gives a harsh single nod, a small smile that whisks away as soon as it appears. “Right,” he mutters, “I remember.” He leans against the Beemer’s bumper, shoulder brushing with Steve’s. Looks forlorn towards the high school’s doors, where Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire bunch should be spilling out any moment now. Steve looks on with him. Listens as Lucas’s voice drops low, nearly angry, fully spiteful, “I begged Dustin and Mike to talk to Eddie about my game. To see if the Hellfire campaign—which would be happening the same night—could be moved. And I, look, I understand that D&D means a lot to all of them, it means something to me, too. But I was really hoping to see my friends there. If not my friends, then at least Erica.

“They didn’t move the campaign,” he states so bitter, Steve tastes the words on his own tongue, “apparently a game where you’re shooting ‘balls into laundry baskets’ is too…mainstream and norm-ie for Eddie. He refused to move his precious game. Then, get this, instead of getting some random kid to play, they egged Erica in.” Lucas drags his eyes away from the school, head turning slow to look at Steve. He follows suit, eyeing Lucas back. His stomach churns with the vitriol painting itself unsubtly across Lucas’s face. “Color me surprised, I guess, that he’s going out with a jock,” he states, voice carefully blank of anything.

Steve stares on at him. He didn’t know this was the case at all. Remembers getting the phone call about Dustin wanting him to play, but he figured that had something to do with him bugging Steve for the millionth time. Because that was something Dustin wanted. For Steve to play. And, granted, Steve refused because it was too nerdy—unimportant and embarrassing. Yet, now he’s looking into Lucas’s face. Where hurt etches itself like solid lines of chiseled marble. Being told, instead, that Eddie’s holding his own bias.

Maybe he hasn’t removed his biases towards high school nerds, not completely. But he’s coming undone from that mentality. Considering Nancy and Robin and Eddie—Dustin and Mike and Lucas—even Max, they’re all big nerds. They all have some sort of interest with Dungeons & Dragons or theater or video games and math. And he loves them all. Though, Steve’s never stopped to think about the opposite side of the coin. Tail-side, where balls in laundry baskets is considered taboo.

After a deep silence when Steve finally digests this information, his eyebrows furrow on their own accord. Mouth downturning into a harsh frown, one that he feels to the bottoms of his feet. He stops himself in time from balling his hands into fists, but the urge to do so snarls in him like a newly unmuzzled, wild dog. A dog, he thought, that he trained obedient away from his anger. But it seems like once the teeth are bared, they never truly hide away.

“That ass,” Steve snarks. “What—so I have to reconsider all my biases surrounding nerds, reconstruct how I view everybody around me, and realize how awesome it is. And—what—Eddie can just get away with that…bullshit? That’s…What the hell?” There’s a little bit more of a bite to his words than he had anticipated. But it really isn’t fair. The table turns and he’s better for it, sure, but Eddie just…That’s not fair. The dog growls louder, drool burbling in its chops, a bark forming in the back of its throat.

“That’s what I thought,” Lucas says, “and I know, I know, that Dustin and Mike tried everything in their power. And that Eddie was the one to, y’know, be the asshole. But I thought that maybe my friends would be on my side. That they’d skip the game, show Eddie up. Not get my little sister involved or have fun without me or…I don’t know.” And the way he says those last three words stings something acidic inside of Steve. Corrosion and battery acid hot and alive in his stomach. Anger reaching the surface of his skin, words crawling and resonating in his mouth. 

The doors to the school open distantly and Lucas suddenly perks back up, blossoming from where he was wilted against Steve’s car. “Doesn’t matter,” he chirps, though it’s all fake, “at least I can play with them now, which is awesome.”

But before he can stride away, to where his bike is parked and locked up, Steve snakes a hand onto Lucas’s wrist. They lock eyes again. “I’ll talk to him,” Steve swears, “he’ll apologize.”

“Steve, you don’t—“

“You used sports as a means to fit in, right? Granted, popularity’s not all that cool and you know that especially now. But it was a…a—“ He snaps his fingers, searching for the word. “—A cover, something to find security in. And you had that. And that’s what the D&D game is to Eddie. Sports is my D&D, too.” He loosens his grip on Lucas’s arm. Neither make any sort of move. “Just because you were trying to find your people doesn’t mean you can be…” He chooses his next words carefully. “Ostracized or outcast by those who you found safety with before. Especially when those guys orbit around each other for the same reason. I’ll talk to him,” he urges, “and he will apologize, or else.”

Lucas gives him a softened look. “Thanks, Steve,” he mutters, “I wasn’t looking to start anything, but I appreciate you having my back. It really means a lot.” And then he shuffles away, towards his bicycle, small chat starting up with Mike and Dustin.

When Steve turns back towards the school, Eddie is sauntering towards him. Eyes wide. Smile big and easy. Yet, his soft features are all too nauseating to Steve’s chest right now. His heart aches. If Eddie thinks of Lucas’s interests that way, what does he think of mine?

He tamps down his annoyance and anger. Because Eddie takes his hand and is looking at him as if the world belongs to the two of them. But that hurt on Lucas’s face is like a dagger impaled in his brain when Eddie greets nice and low, “Hi, baby. Been thinking about you the entire time I was in there.”

Steve smiles, though it may come off as more of a grimace with how Eddie falters. “Been thinking about you, too,” he echoes. Though, thinking positively isn’t what he’s been doing, as far as anybody’s concerned. Beat around the bush, he tells himself. He takes a steadying breath, posture straightening, demeanor changing. Says with a sour tone, “I, uh, I think we need to have a little talk in the car, if that’s okay? It’s not a breakup thing, but it might make you…somebody might get mad and I don’t want to cage you in at my house.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. His eyes go distant very briefly. When he refocuses on Steve, something has hardened in his features. Steve’s throat goes tight. “It can’t wait until after our date night?” There’s a low amount of ire in his words already and Steve is momentarily caught in it. Until he lets his eyebrows scrunch down his face again, giving in to that tightness in his throat.

He sighs, annoyed already. “No, Eddie,” he bites without meaning to. “I need to talk to you now. I’m already upset about it and it’s not going to do me any good to just brush it off.” His hand releases from Eddie’s grip, falling heavy against his side. He turns towards his driver’s side door and stares back at where Eddie is rooted. “Come on,” he states lowly, “you were the one to tell me to talk about the shit that’s bothering me. Can’t ignore it just because it has to do with you.”

Bitchy is probably not the best approach to all of this, but Steve is already cornered out of options. He pulls his door open with more force than necessary. Slides into his seat, key into the ignition, and honks once at Eddie. Jarringly gestures at the passenger seat. Thankfully, there’s nobody else to witness the potential torrential fire that’s brewing in him. It’ll be just the two of them; though that realization stirs something sickly in Steve’s stomach.

Eddie gets in silently. Places his school bag in the footwell. And keeps his face pointed out the windshield. “What’s wrong?” He asks, though his voice is devoid and edging on irritated.

Steve rolls his eyes, though Eddie can’t see him. He sets his hands firmly on his steering wheel. Squeezes the leather for comfort, an instinct. And heaves a sigh, urging himself to be calmer about this. “I had a talk with Lucas,” he starts. “About, uh, about his championship game back in March.”

Next to him, Eddie immediately tenses.

He continues without acknowledgement. Keeps himself as leveled as possible. “He told me that you refused to move your game for his. That he was looking forward to having his friends, which I’m assuming includes you, watch him play. And I—I know how important that championship game was to him. Y’know, it’s one of the bigger—“

“Are you mad because I didn’t want to sit at some jock event?” Eddie interrupts, question clipped. Though there’s also mild amusement in his tone, as if Steve being upset is poposterous. He continues without any regard for Steve. “In a room full of, mind you, people who hate me?”

Steve tenses more than Eddie had. His shoulders hiking and his stomach knotting impossibly more. Finally lets the dog bark, gives in to whatever it wants. “You know what, Eddie?” He bitches back. “I am mad at you. In fact, I…I…I’m so fucking angry that you…you make this whole deal about ‘lost sheep’ and herding them in to play your game. You concern yourself with making a community for people who are lost to the crowd of cliques in that school. And it’s just—Lucas is one of those kids! He is, even if that means he wants to play basketball!”

The passenger seat squeaks. Clothes rustling as Eddie turns toward him. But Steve doesn’t rip his eyes from the windshield. If anything, he leans more towards the left, creating a deeper, larger space between them. His hands instinctively tighten on the steering wheel again.

“Yeah, I do pride myself on that,” Eddie spits. “I do. Which is why, honestly, it irks me that Lucas would pick a crowd full of assholes. A bunch of people who would never give him the time of day.”

Steve goes rigid at that. He was an asshole, too. He knows that. Eddie especially knows that. The Munson Doctrine wouldn’t exist without the inclusion of asshole jocks, Steve being near the top of the list. He tries to tell himself that Eddie doesn’t think of him that way, but it’s hard considering himself. Who he used to be. Instead, he takes another breath, this one longer and hopefully more steadying than the other ones have been.

“He went out for basketball for a sense of security,” Steve states slowly, verging on impatient. “To find somewhere to belong to. That’s all a freshman looks for—a group to be somebody with. And, you know, considering that he’s already sort of singled out for being one of a few black kids at the school…Belonging is kind of important to him.” He settles back into his seat, arms still stretched to their full length in front of him. His stomach is turning and his heart is racing. And why won’t Eddie just get this? “Even if the basketball team has a bunch of assholes, he still wanted to do it. He was celebrated for his skills, who he is—even if it was for a moment. Playing was, and probably still is, important to him. And you—“ Steve finally turns his head towards Eddie. Knows his eyes are shooting daggers, can see where they lodge themselves between Eddie’s ribs. He raises a finger and accuses, “—you made his game feel unimportant. None of his best friends came because they were toopreoccupied with your game.” His face grows unusually hot as his voice drags passionately. The words just tumbling, splattering between them. But he carries on like a fire fed, “They even got his little sister to play yourgame. And, you know what really hurt to hear? Lucas wanted at least Erica to watch. And she wasn’t there. She wasn’t there because of your game, Eddie. How do you think that looks to him?”

Eddie has the audacity to look cowed, appalled. His mouth agape and his eyes as two large craters on his face. And for the first time, probably ever, he is stunned into silence.

Steve looks away. Bitter. All that festers in him now is hurt, ache, sadness. He chews on his lip, inhales softly through his nose, and opens his mouth with a silent word. Finally, he murmurs, “When I came to the high school as a freshman, I did the exact same thing as Lucas did. I joined the basketball team. Not because I was good. Or because my dad forced me to, like everybody seems to think. It’s because I wanted to fit in.”

His eyes are stinging. Cheeks flushing even more with overwhelming, consuming emotion. Continues, “And, though I let the feeling eat away at me, it felt good to be protected by a camaraderie like that. Outside of the nerdy friend group I had in middle school, going into high school. It felt good. And—It’s not the same as why Lucas joined, I know that, but I can understand.

“On top of that, I never had friends or family members show up for me at my games. So, for me to know the hurt Lucas feels, that would be an understatement. What’s important to note, though, is that he had people in his life to be there for him and they didn’t show. They didn’t.”

The fight is draining out of him, but he has to solidify his point. Has to finish this or else. Thinks briefly that maybe he should quit while he’s ahead, but he can’t make himself do that. The ferocity engulfing him from the inside out all too much to ignore. He’s been beaten down before for Lucas, literally—oh so literally—but he’d do it again and again and again for that kid to find his footing. Including this…spat? One sided argument? This argument with his boyfriend. 

“Even I was there,” he says, hollowly, “cheering him on. It just would’ve been nice, for him, to have more than just some washed up, ex-jock, nobody be there. Right? I’m sure you get where I’m coming from. You can understand what I’m saying.” He glances forlorn out his window. Can’t even muster the courage to look over at Eddie. He’s basically drained himself. Being vulnerable isn’t his forte, but he can be for the people around him. Even if it’s at the expense of his own well being. “Well, I thought you’d understand. Wanting to have a community, people to lean on, to make something of yourself. No matter the means. I just didn’t think you’d be part of the reason that Lucas feels so…so singular.”

He takes a deep breath, ignoring how nasally it is to his ears. And mutters, a final thing, “I didn’t think you viewed something that Lucas and I are into as so…nothing. I try my best to be better about what you like, but it seems that you don’t make that same effort. That’s not fair, Eddie. You should know that.”

Without much else to say and with Eddie’s eerie silence, he starts the car. Puts it into drive. And peels away into the silence of the long and stretching road.

Briefly, he thinks about turning on the radio or cranking down the window, but the air is too thick to move through. Even the slight turns of his steering wheel is enough to make him feel sick. He’s sick with how disgustingly to-the-point he had to be. Though, there’s no other way that Eddie would’ve listened. Not with how defensive he immediately got.

The original date night plan had been to go to his house, but he finds himself pulling into Forest Hills’ driveway. Past the dimly lit trailers and the striking quietness of Max’s home. He parks in the vacant spot next to Eddie’s van. Which, the van is broken down right now—the main reason Steve is even driving Eddie around. But, now what? Is Eddie mad at how mad Steve was? Is he going to realize that he doesn’t like Steve because of his interests, who he is? Is this it?

A gentle anxious thrum runs through Steve like the very blood he needs to exist.

He silences the car. And just sits with his hands in his lap. Looking blankly at Eddie’s front door.

“Your stop,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie takes a deep breath and sighs heavily through his nose. But he doesn’t make a move to open his door. To step out. To walk away from…all that Steve is and has been.

Steve turns to him, gestures loosely at the Munson’s. “Your stop,” he reiterates.

“I—“ Eddie musters, voice croaking and rough. “I didn’t realize that…I didn’t know Lucas was mad about that. I didn’t think it…mattered.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Steve bitterly states, “It’s not like you actually cared.”

“But I do,” Eddie insists, “I care so much about Lucas. And I care so much about you. I swear!” He finally moves, tossing himself in the seat to face Steve, flailing. His face a mournful thing, downturned and sad. Skin pale and his hands desperate and his voice urgent. “There’s no excuse, I know. But I just…The reason I look at jocks so awfully is because they’ve always turned on me, you know? They always downplay my interests and mock me and tease me for what I like. Which is why I have to show myself as the bigger guy, that I can take it. I just didn’t realize that I was doing it, too.”

Slowly, Steve crosses his arms over his chest. Fingers tightening over his biceps. “Real life and your friends are more important than biases, Eddie.”

“I see that now.”

“And I think that you…you love me? And that you like Lucas. But it’s just hard to feel that, for either of us, when you adamantly refuse to involve yourself in our interests. Even if it means attending some jock event. Even if it means sitting in a room full of people that hate you. Which, by the way, that isn’t true because Lucas and I both like you—I love you, even.” He faces Eddie again. His face a sure thing of great ache, based on Eddie’s own crestfallen eyes. “Maybe just…give us space for a couple days? Think about this. Apologize once you’ve given it some thought. I understand where the whole hating jocks thing comes from, but just think about how that hurts, too.”

Eddie takes a gasping breath. “But I’m sorry now, Stevie,” he swears, “I am. I’m so sorry.”

There’s part of those words that soothe Steve like aloe to a sunburn, but he can’t accept them. Knows that the sure sting of the burn will still be there if he lets Eddie do this now. So he collects himself, mulls the words, and defends himself—for once. “I’ll accept that when it doesn’t feel like you’re saying it just to make me feel better. I want you to mean it. And I want you to apologize to Lucas first.”

He watches Eddie nod fervently, sharply. His hands twisting together in his lap and his eyes wetting, shoved harshly to the side. “Yeah, okay,” his voice trembles, “okay, I’ll fix this.”

Carefully, Steve takes Eddie’s hands. Tugs them until Eddie looks at him. Involuntarily, he makes a soft, sympathetic noise. It’s clear in the wetness of Eddie’s eyes that he’s determined to change this, to make this better. It’s clear that he didn’t mean to hurt this severely. He presses deep into the back of Eddie’s hands, tethering himself down to the earth, away from the cloud of anger that threatens to swallow him whole. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, “listen to me, baby. I know that you’re sorry. I know, okay? But Lucas won’t know that, he’ll probably think you’re saying it to get on his good side. And…maybe you are, a bit, but it’ll be better if you really mean it. Trust me.” He swipes his thumbs over Eddie’s knuckles, massages them to ease the tension. “I still love you. I’m still learning, too, to love your interests with my full heart. And I know that it’s hard to let go of stupid biases, but you’ll be better for it. You will, Eds, and you’ll find you actually feel good.” Steve runs his hands up Eddie’s arms, to his shoulders, the sides of his neck.

Gently, he cups Eddie’s face between his hands. Presses his thumbs underneath Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie softens, loosening. Breathes slowly onto Steve’s wrists. “I’ll make this right, Steve,” he promises quietly, “I want to love both of you guys right.”

“I believe you,” he whispers in turn, “you’re a good guy, Eddie. You’ve got a good soul and a good heart. But you just need to relearn some things, baby.” He leans in, softly pecks the soft tissue of Eddie’s facial scar, and pulls away. Reaches up and runs a hand through the wiry ends of Eddie’s curls. Finds that he does mean the softness in his words, even with the bitter edge in his chest. He murmurs, “Let’s cool off tonight, because I know we’re both upset. And we’ll reconvene in a couple days, after my shift. I’ll help you come up with a good apology, promise.”

“Okay,” Eddie mutters, sniffling.

“I love you,” he feels the need to remind.

“I love you, too, Stevie. And I mean that. I really do.”

🏀—————🏀

Taglist (Open For Chapter Two): @wonderland-girl143-blog @tinyplanet95 @sharingisntkaren @ghostquer @practicallybegging @croatoan-like-its-hot @reinedslys-central

[ciaonicole85]

Part 6: What Then?

It's over kids! The longest and final chapter is done. Chris Storer & Co. are probably going to put our beloveds through it in S3, but until then let's enjoy our low-key angst and romance. Post Season 2, Canon-Compliant, swoony, girly, fluffy. A happy-ending obviously.

After 10 years of grinding himself into dust Carm’s body began to surrender. About a month after The Bear’s opening, he came down with a cold that turned into a low-grade fever, a bitter cough with lime green mucus, night sweats, and mind-numbing exhaustion. After two days Sydney and Fak showed up to his apartment and dragged him to the emergency room. It was pneumonia and dehydration. The young male doctor muttered that his lungs sounded just like his father’s, a 40-year smoker. Yes, pneumonia was the primary reason, but a man Carmy’s age should be in better shape. He was out of commission for a whole week. The regret of letting down The Bear crew so soon after the Friends and Family fiasco motivated him to make a couple changes. First, he allowed himself only one emergency cigarette a day, which he needed less and less. Second, he went outside on Mondays, when the restaurant was closed. If the temperature was over 30℉, he took the train or walked to a park. His favorites were Humboldt and the Garfield Park Conservatory. Today he had come to the latter with his sketchbook and pencils in his backpack. Since the renovation he had continued drawing.

As he went towards to his favorite bench, he noticed a slender woman walking ahead of him. Her height, long swishing braids and jacket were identical to Syd’s. He compulsively began jogging towards her. Before he could call out her name, the woman pounced on a tall lanky man in front of her, wrapping her arms around his waist. Carmen had the sensation of being pushed off a diving board unexpectedly, his stomach pitching forward, unable to breathe much less scream before slamming into the water like a brick. The man turned and picked up Sydney up, planting a kiss on her mouth. He spun her around and…she wasn’t Syd. Thank God.

Carm made his way to the bench and hunched over, his head in his hands. She wasn’t Syd he recanted over and over until the feeling of relief gave way to self-reproach. This time it wasn’t her, but one day it would be. Would he be able to live with that? Uncle Jimmy’s warning not to be an overthinking manichino flashed in his mind. It was time to do something. He took out his sketchpad and began thumbing through it, an idea beginning to take shape. Hopefully, it wouldn’t scare Syd away.

The following Monday Sydney was in her cousin’s salon getting her entire life. Her microbraids were taken out, her hair was washed, deep conditioned, her scalp massaged, and now she was getting box braids put in. They were accented with delicate gold hair cuffs. She drowsed in the chair, with an almost empty to-go container of jollof rice in her lap, as her cousin and another hair stylist quietly discussed the latest season of Love is Blind.

“Sydney babe, would you ever go on Love is Blind?” her cousin, Ashley, asked in a louder tone.

Syd startled and rubbed her eyes.

“Never. That’s insane.”

“I got a message on IG that it’s coming to Chicago. You live and breathe your job so when are you going to meet somebody? Maybe your soulmate is in one of those pods!”

“Why don’t you apply then? You could find “love” and get more exposure for the salon.”

“Same for you and your restaurant ma’am, but I have a man.”

“Since when?”

“Since three months ago. His name is David, he’s a chemical engineer and the son of you know, Ms. Jumoke, she goes to the African church on Mackinaw…St. Paul.”

“Yeah, I remember her. Her sister used to watch me when my dad worked nights.”

“Anyways, back to you. Are you dating anyone, or should I send you the show application?”

“I don’t think love is blind. Have you seen the people they cast? Nobody too unfortunate-looking gets on. It’s so shallow.”

 “Ha! You’re one to talk. You have a very distinct type…white boys with tats and muscles.”

“Ashley, there’s been two of them. Like, that’s not a pattern.”

“No, three! This boss, no “partner”, of yours, had Sydney written over him. The family never sees you anymore.”

“I came to lunch at uncle and auntie’s last month! Besides, opening a new business is like having a kid. You know this.”

“Sure, but when I had dinner at your restaurant and you introduced us, he complimented you for five minutes and then followed you to the kitchen like a whipped puppy.”

Sydney grinned biting her lower lip and covered her eyes. Her cousin stopped braiding and hugged her.

“Aww…my baby cousin is finally going to get some!”

“ASHLEY!” Sydney groaned pushing off her cousin’s arms.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop, but I am happy for you. He is sexy. That neck is thicker than a tree stump.”

Sydney who had just taken a sip of her sweet tea, spat it out all over the mirror.

“That’s on you, Ashley!” she choked out between laughing and coughing.

When she was able to contain herself, she tried to reel her cousin back in. Talking about romantic potential with Carmy gave her too much pleasure. If he was content with the status quo she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“Nothing really is going on. We’re business partners and we’re pretty good friends and it’s probably best we keep it that way.”

“Yes, and he gave you an equal share in the restaurant out of the friendly kindness of his heart.”

“You know, I think he would do that, because I’ve put in so much work, but it did feel like it was something more, at least his Uncle Cicero or Jimmy seemed to think so.”

“Girl, watch out. His sister and an uncle like you!? Would you take his last name, hyphenate, or keep Adamu?”

“Ugh, I’m not going there with you! Shouldn’t you be done with my hair by now?”

“If you want it done right it’ll be 2 more hours. If you don’t…30 minutes?”

“Fine, take your time but please let me sleep.”

Sydney closed her eyes, admiring her self-control. She hadn’t told Ashley that Carmy asked her to come by The Bear this evening. He was reworking a few old dishes. The invite was made at the end of the night a few days ago while they were turning off the lights. She said yes as they pulled down the last switch and she couldn’t see his expression, but she heard him exhale loudly as if he feared she’d decline. Sometimes they meet up on Mondays to network with vendors or collaborate on menu ideas, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary. However, she intuited he was hiding something again like when he and Nat surprised her with a share in the restaurant. This time she didn’t pester him for details, knowing that it was probably worth waiting for.

When Syd arrived home at 3:00 pm she could’ve folded laundry and watched an episode of Psych, but she decided to pretend this was a date; well, like she was preparing for a date. It was a long time since her last. She had entered the Convent of Failed Dreams after Sheridan. Then The Beef/The Bear became her world. The light blue cuffed jeans and stripped white and mint green button-down shirt she was wearing was more than appropriate for a food brainstorming session. However, Carmy’s mysterious attitude might be concealing more great news. She might as well look good when and if he had some.

She took a luxuriously long shower, shaved, and rubbed in her mandarin-scented body oil. Then she entered slowly sifted through her closet considering a red jumpsuit, or just nicer jeans and a blouse when her eyes fell on her marigold-colored shirt dress. It was knee length, comfortable, but chic and the color made her complexion pop. She paired it with a brown and gold oval buckle belt and brown flats because she might be standing in the kitchen for hours. After a short struggle she decided to keep the top two buttons of her shirt dress open. It was only a collar bone, not cleavage. Then she considered makeup. She hated wearing a lot of it; her skin felt suffocated with foundation. She did her brows, applied mascara, a little mineral powder, a smidge of highlighter on her cheekbones, and finished with the Fenty “Hot Choclit” gloss bomb her cousin had given her as part of a set for Christmas. Her new braids with the gold cuffs made the look even better and Sydney couldn’t help admiring herself more than usual in her floor-length mirror. She felt so delicious that she ordered an Uber rather than sit on the train. She would take it later or maybe Carm would give her a ride home.

Just before she could lock the door Emmanuel came up the stairwell, his face lighting up.

“My baby girl, you are stunning! Where are you headed?”

“Thanks, daddy. I’m just going to the restaurant. Felt like dressing up for once.”

“So, is it a staff meeting?”

“No, just working on some recipes. I gotta go. My Uber’s waiting.”

Emmanuel leaned against the door and nodded with a sly smile.

“Oh okay, I see. Tell Carmen I said hello. Have fun!”

Sydney’s eyes widened and she ran down the stairs waving goodbye. Her voice couldn’t be trusted.

When the car arrived at the restaurant, the sky was overcast, the evening darker than usual for the time of year. She let herself in and observed the layout. The lights were low, and the back center booth was set for dinner, with a single table candlelit. She could see Carmy in the kitchen already sautéing something. She was headed towards him when he looked up, seeing her through the window and rushed to meet her in the front.

“Syd don’t-” he began before he was immobilized by the vision before him.

Sydney was similarly taken with him and marveled at how often they were of the same mind. Carm was wearing a crisp button-down blue shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the shirt tucked into dark navy pants, and he had gotten a haircut. Somehow it made his eyes stand out more. The sides were moderately tapered, his hair on top remained almost as long as before, and one of his rogue curls was damp against his forehead. He was perspiring, apparently having been cooking for a while.

“Nice haircut”, “You look amazing” they began at the same time and laughed nervously.

Carmy started again, beating his trusty spoon against his palm.

“So, the food is almost done. Just have a seat over there and I’ll be right out.”

Sydney nodded, a little confused and excited for this change of plans. She sat in the booth and noticed the speakers were playing The Teskey Brothers’ “Take My Heart.” She leaned back and closed her eyes letting the lyrics wash over her, her emotions stirring with that sweet ache.

“Take the time to notice what you really need, 

You’ll find it’s a little more simple, than what you thought before,

But I can say for certain that I’ve got more than I ever had before,

By remembering the little things that make my heart warm.

So take my heart and cut it into two,

After all the only thing missing from me was you,

You’re all I want, you’re all I need, you’re the air I breathe,

Cause after all the only thing missing from me was you.”

“Hey, are you good?” Carmy asked  approaching the booth with their plates.

Sydney sat up and cleared her throat.

“Yes, I’m good. I really like that song. Reminds me of-“

 “Otis Redding?”

“Yeah.”

Carm carefully placed the plates on the table.

“Well, speaking of throwbacks, I made-”

“Pork confit with onions and rhubarb!”

 “Yes, and after we’ll have Milk and Honey.

Sydney bit the inside of her mouth trying to absorb what seemed to be happening.  Carm muttered something about getting their drinks and went to the bar for their club sodas. Sydney remained mute, not knowing if she should ask him what this meant now or let it play out. “Don’t get ahead of yourself”, she admonished her heart.

He returned to the booth with their drinks and encouraged her to start, rubbing his chin as she put the first bite in her mouth.

“That’s it Carmy. Maybe even better than the first time,” Syd purred the pork melting on her tongue and some of her anxiety with it.

He blushed and began eating too.

“It is pretty good. Eleven Madison Park taught me a lot.”

The meal was mostly silent except for the occasional ejaculation over some element of the dish. Carmy couldn’t help gazing at Syd, taking in each detail, and rejoicing in the whole. The dip above her collar bone that rose and fell whenever she swallowed, made his head swim. Her lovely face was absolutely regal framed by her new box braids. Syd’s brown skin glowed in the candlelight and a heavenly citrus scent emanated from her. Whenever her eyes caught his obvious staring, he was too filled with gratitude to look away. Sydney’s eyes were soft and filled with kindness for this dear, lovestruck man. He looked helpless. In moments like this she remembered her capacity to build or obliterate him at will.  “Go with the flow” she reminded herself.

After they finished the main, Carmy took their plates and returned, with dessert, Milk and Honey. Syd lit up at the sight and when she tried it a wave of surprise flitted across her face.

"Is that mango? I didn't taste it at first, but then it like...bloomed at the back. Wow!" "I thought it could use a Sydney twist. You always grab the mango lollipops off Sug's desk." She resumed eating her dessert. Carm noticed everything about her. She'd played the Teskey Brothers, once or twice while they cleaned after a service, comparing them to Otis.

The Milk and Honey was devoured too soon and just as she wondered what else was on the agenda, Carmy took their bowls and returned with a package tied with twine. He set it in front of her, hands trembling, and sat a little further away than before. Syd perceiving his anxiety didn't raise any questions. She untied the string, removed the wrapping paper, revealing a red leather hand-bound notebook. The cover was engraved with her initials. On the first page was one of Carmy's drawings. It was a curbside view of The Bear. Several lined pages followed, then a drawing of the grapes in bone marrow broth. This alternating of lined pages and his pictures continued throughout the thick notebook. There were more pictures of their recipes, the various designs of her head scarves, and some were of her in different attitudes. In one she was leading expo with the confidence of Napoleon, and another was a portrait, her chin leaning on her hand, with a faraway expression in her large brown eyes. There were several others, so perceptive that Sydney felt naked. Adored. The final picture was surreal. It was a profile of Carmy's head the entirety of which was filled with Sydney wearing a hopeful smile and the scarf and shirt she'd worn her first day at The Beef. She couldn't stop looking at it, her index finger tracing the lines. "Sy-d" Carmen croaked his voice thick. Breaking. She looked up to find red-brimmed blue eyes searching hers. "Come here" she breathed and no sooner than she blinked he was at her side. "Syd" he tried again. Hyperventilating. "Say more", she gently commanded smoothing his hair back before taking his hand in her lap. This disarmed him, and he grinned in surprise. That was his line. "Okay." Breathe "I want you Syd. I want to be with you.”

Breathe

“I want to do everything with you or not at all."

Then for the first time he wanted to say the words that had been a weapon for most of his life. They either were forced on him or yanked from him. His mother thought those words meant meekly submitting to her abuse. For Mikey it was cutting him off, so he wasn't exposed to his self-destruction. He never got to say it all. Claire believed it was part of a script. If he would only play his role and ignore who they were underneath, those words would become true enough. Now, he had a new idea about those words, and they were wrapped up in this beautiful, talented, funny, tender, generous, stubborn, loyal, woman. His friend. Suddenly they didn't hurt. He continued leaning to rest his forehead on hers. "I love you." Sydney blinked slowly as if in a trance, tears dropping to their joined hands. Carm didn't move, but his face was filled with concern. 'Syd, are you-" he started to ask. Then he was spinning. Sydney was kissing him. His neurons habitually used to process grief, anxiety, and small doses of happiness, trembled with the unusual amount of joy coursing through him. Sydney was delirious. Her only thought was, he loves me. Carm pulled back to kiss her cheeks, her chin, and the hollow above her collar bone. He melted there. Sydney sighed, cradling his head. "I love you, too."

[sweet-evie]

The Best Surprise: What was Going On Before the Party Started?

A glimpse into the life of a single dad who's doing his best.

masterlist || pt 4 || pt

Content: ⚠️ OCs, Gojo family headcanons, Mentions of afab!oc, fem!oc, nameless!oc, she/her/hers pronouns for said nameless OC. Also includes singleparent!gojo, dad!gojo, OOC Gojo (because he has parental dispositions and raising kids).

A/N: EXTRA SCENES ...AKA scenes that didn’t fit the vibe of the 4th installment for some reason, but I like them too much to leave them around.

Never Grow Up Pt 4 Extras

May 5, 2013

Satoru pays his mother a visit at the Gojo Estate

“I advised you, if you recall. You would have had an easier time here.”

“It wasn’t as difficult as you all said it would be either way. Nothing hired help couldn’t fix. Thanks for that by the way, Mom.”

Kaede Gojo — mother of the clan head, said nothing in response and watched her son closely over the rim of the expensive bone china cup that she’d raised to her lips. Satoru leaned back and propped his left elbow on the arm of his mother’s bouclé sofa — a picture of nonchalance and ease.

“My advice still stands. If you resumed residency here, you would not have to divide your time between three different places so frequently.” She finished her sip of gyokuro tea and folded her hands primly over her lap again — as she was wont to do. “You would be closer to Jujutsu Tech and should urgent events arise, you will be able to attend to matters that require your attention much more swiftly. Plus, I am sure I am not the only one who certainly wouldn’t mind being graced with the presence of my beautiful granddaughter every day.”

Yeah… Leave Satsuki in their hands, and let the higher-ups and his own family play tug o’ war with him as the unbreakable rope?

No, thanks.

As much as he respected his mother enough to tame his usually sharp tongue while he was around her, Satoru was not blind to the fact that she was loyal to her own agendas. Public opinion and appearance always mattered to her ever since he was a child. And on top of that, she was a willing follower of his father’s ideas.

The day his daughter would relocate to the Gojo Estate would be the day jujutsu society would fall and his presence from this world would be removed.

He was raising his kid his way and no one else’s.

It was off-putting actually, that they were having this discussion today of all days.

“Your father once mentioned that an apartment would be an ill-advised place to raise a child born with Limitless.” Kaede added, watching her son closely in an attempt to decipher how he felt about this.

Satoru’s brows furrowed slightly behind the blindfold. His daughter was barely a year-old. It would be cool to discover she had the clan’s prized technique, but he was still hoping his daughter would manifest something unique. “No one knows until Satsuki turns 5 or 6.”

“But she has the makings of a sorcerer.”

“Of course. We are staying in Roppongi though. That won’t change for a while.” It won’t change for a long time, actually — not if Satoru had anything to do with it. “Wherever Satsuki is, Fushiguro’s children will follow. And as hilarious as it is to rub it in the Zenins’ faces, I’d rather not aggravate the delicate situation we’re in. Megumi deserves better than that.”

At the reminder of one his riskier ventures, Kaede’s lips tightened into a grim line of quiet disapproval. “It pains me to say, but it is a precarious situation of your own doing.”

“Eh…” Satoru waved off her concerns with a nonchalant hand. “I gave the kid a choice. He chose not to go back to the Zenin clan.”

“Tsk. Providing for him and his sister financially was more than enough. Taking them under your own roof was a step too far… and at the behest of your former paramour at that.”

Satoru was gracious enough to spare his mother his insolent behavior that was usually reserved for the higher ups and his father, but Kaede had no such compulsion towards her son — she could spare Satoru a tongue-lashing or two.

All the same, he didn’t need to explain himself to her, or why he decided to foster the Fushiguro children together with Satsuki’s deceased mother.

“What’s done is done. Point is, moving here permanently would mean having Fushiguro’s kids here as well, and I don’t want to add further insult to injury. I can, of course, if I wanted to, but that would be a problem on your hands too. And we wouldn’t want to burden your shoulders further, would we, Mom?”

She shifted in her seat and brushed off his barbed words. The supposed ‘burden’ on her shoulders could never compare to his, and she never said it, but she knew it just as much as Satoru did — a fact that had been apparent from the moment he was born. “You do as you see fit.”

“Well it was nice speaking to you. I’ve said all I needed to say—” Satoru grinned and rose to his feet, pushing the manila envelope closer to his mother across the coffee table, “—and I’ve brought what you asked for, so if you’ll excuse me… I have somewhere I need to be. Later!”

He could sense her eyes following him even after he’d closed the door on her private tea room.

=OoOoO=

JUSTICE FOR IJICHI! (also boycott Gojo’s unjust solicitation of Ijichi’s assistant services)

Ijichi didn’t realize that when he’d fully assumed his role as an assistant to jujutsu sorcerers, it would also mean catering to their needs outside of sorcery work. If he knew that would have been the case, perhaps he would have advocated for a pay-raise from the beginning. At the rate he was currently going, Principal Yaga really ought to know the reason behind the extra leg work and why the school’s official sedan was guzzling gas faster than a vacuum cleaner operating at full efficiency.

At the moment, he was less auxiliary manager for jujutsu sorcerers and more like Satoru Gojo’s executive assistant.

And as glamorous as that latter title sounded, it wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.

He wasn’t even an employee under Gojo… Ijichi answered to the school and above all else, to the higher-ups too.

Why was he letting Gojo run him ragged again?

“Sir? Sir, excuse me? Hello? Are you there?” The voice inquired on the other line, slightly distorted and possibly exasperated at Ijichi’s lack of an immediate response.

Right… Because Gojo would have never let him have a moment of peace otherwise.

“Uh… yes. I’m here.”

“Right. As I was saying… My team will be over at Mr. Gojo’s apartment residence thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Would that be all right? I called to make sure we’re not intruding on any family happenings before that time.”

“Ah, yes. That would be fine. Gojo is not there at the moment, but someone will let you in.”

“All right, thank you. That’s all we needed.”

Ijichi breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of the dial tone. 

That was the sixth call in a row. The string of calls from various vendors that had plagued him just now shouldn’t have sounded as stressful as it seemed, but that was exactly how it came off. It was a Sunday and today was hectic. So ironic… It was the consecutive calls on top of all the other party-centric errands Ijichi found himself doing too.

With the number of vendors and all the moving parts scuttling about in the background, you’d think it was a mini charity gala and not a toddler’s party.

And to think, Gojo had approached him and called this a favor.

The man claimed he would have done all of this on-the-day organizing himself, but—

“I have a Grade 1 case to investigate and exorcise outside of Tokyo.” Gojo had quipped, cheeky and cheerful despite the circumstance, “I’ll be done before the end of the day, but I can’t have vendors calling me in the middle of the mission to ask about technicalities, you know how it is. So I left them your number and you’re in charge. Thanks, Ijichi, I owe you one! Bye!”

And Ijichi hadn’t even managed to get a word in edgewise before the line went dead and he was saddled with chief party organizer responsibilities at seven in the morning.

Talking over Gojo was impossible, and it was worse if your brain could barely catch up to whatever his mouth was spewing.

A warning at least three days in advance would have been nice.

Ijichi understood that today was a special day for someone important to Gojo. 

Only the truly ignorant wouldn’t know of Satoru Gojo’s daughter and her appearances at Jujutsu Tech now and again. Satsuki was a precious bubbly little thing that resembled her father far too much for her own good, capturing hearts and eyes whenever she was at the premises, and truth be told, Ijichi wasn’t any different from his other colleagues, the faculty, or the students who folded to Gojo’s daughter’s effortless charms. Seeing her smile with her baby teeth was more than enough to make anyone’s day, and who wouldn’t want to make a toddler happy on a normal day, never mind her birthday?

So yes, he was a slave to Gojo’s whims for now, but it was for Satsuki in the end. It was for the happiness of a child.

Or at least, that’s what Ijichi was content to tell himself to keep from feeling robbed.

Grumbling to himself with a sigh, the assistant massaged the edges of his temples in an attempt to alleviate an oncoming migraine.

Stress wasn’t good for the skin… especially on a weekend. He was too young to get fine lines and wrinkles for the gods’ sakes!

“I really should ask for that pay-raise.” 

And his justification for the increment request? 

Satoru Gojo’s ad-hoc tasks, of course.

=OoOoO=

Megumi and Tsumiki + Satsuki, the nannies, and Satsuki’s maternal grandma

In all their years living with Gojo, Megumi had never seen the apartment so busy… and so full of people.

Aside from Tsumiki or Gojo, the only other people who arrived on a regular basis were Yumiko, Kaoru, and Shiori — Satsuki’s nannies that worked in shifts throughout the day. The trio had been present in Satsuki’s life ever since she was a newborn, and Gojo didn’t want to be without their assistance just yet.

Part of him wanted to hide in his room and curl up in bed to finish the book he had attempted to binge-read last night, but the other half stewed in unquenchable curiosity for the odd things unfolding in the apartment bit by bit. The organized chaos began after Gojo left this morning for a mission. Since then, Tsumiki had gone back and forth from the main room to the front door with every buzz that rang through the apartment. And every time she did, a different person or a group would enter.

First came the decorators, then the event organizer who tried striking up a conversation with Megumi while he was busy reading, then the caterers, and then a team of three people who were hired to do something Megumi couldn’t figure out yet.

As the time for the party drew closer, a woman who introduced herself as Ms Minori made an appearance. Apparently, she was the host for the party. Megumi had a hard time looking away from her, because she certainly dressed the part. Her costume (because that was certainly what it looked like she was wearing) was familiar; the poofy yellow skirt and the off-shoulder top reminded him of a particular Disney princess that Tsumiki favored because, “She’s kind’a like you, Megumi.”

He always just figured it was Tsumiki’s way of getting back at him because he often said his sister reminded him so much of weird animals, like capybaras or beluga whales.

Another distinct buzz vibrated through the apartment, and again it had Tsumiki bounding up to the foyer, all bright smiles and welcoming aura. The door opened to reveal a rumpled-looking Ijichi with two boxes of what looked like Baskin Robbins cakes between his hands.

“Is Gojo back yet?” Ijichi asked immediately as he weaved through stray white and gold balloons and remnants of cut-up ribbons on the floor.

“Not yet. Did he say he’d be back by now?” Megumi piped up behind Ijichi after trailing behind him the entire time.

The older man apparently didn’t notice because Megumi’s voice startled him to the point of almost fumbling the cakes. It was Tsumiki’s quick reflexes that saved him from the inevitable trouble of replacing the desserts. She carefully placed the cake boxes on the counter, relieving Ijichi of his source of anxiety.

“Gojo said he’d be back before the party started.” Ijichi sighed, producing a handkerchief from the pocket of his pants.

“It’s not too bad. I don’t think the guests have arrived yet.” Tsumiki hummed thoughtfully. Not that there were that many guests to begin with.

The birthday girl didn’t exactly have playmates her age yet, although Megumi was of the opinion that Gojo should fix that. If the baby wasn’t around Megumi or Tsumiki, she was with her nannies. And if it was neither of them, she was with Gojo. 

If he wasn’t mistaken, most of the guests attending today were adults and teenagers.

Megumi blinked once… twice; less out of shock and more out of surprise that Gojo actually hired people to dress up as Sesame Street characters. The three weren’t wearing the mascot heads yet, but it seemed Big Bird, Elmo, and Cookie Monster would be gracing Satsuki’s 1st birthday after all.

Ijichi heaved a long-suffering sigh and whipped out his phone, thumbs flying over the screen as he typed out a message, presumably to Gojo. Tsumiki excused herself and made a beeline for the nursery where the birthday girl and her nannies were, and Megumi decided on following her.

He could hear Sesame Street playing from the television inside, and entering the room had Satsuki shifting her attention from the loveable characters to Megumi himself.

“Mi-mi!” Satsuki crowed, kicking her legs out excitedly as she pointed at Megumi hovering close to the chest of drawers.

“Who is it, Tsuki?” Tsumiki encouraged, leaning closer to the baby on all fours.

“Mi-mi! Mi-mi bi do-do!”

Recent experience told him Satsuki wanted him to bring the Divine Dogs out whenever she so much as mentioned ‘do-do’. She adored their fluffy tails and pointy ears, wholly oblivious of their capacity for exorcism and their need to feed on curses. Normally, he would indulge her request, no problem, but—

“Not now, Satsuki.” Megumi shook his head no and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her. “I can bring them out later.”

“Do-do?” The baby mumbled, looking back at Tsumiki as if to confirm Megumi’s own refusal, and the older girl just shrugged.

“Later… I’ll have new shikigami for you to meet soon.” He was banking on taming the rabbits, and then Nue. He’d run it by Gojo first on one of their upcoming training sessions, but quite honestly, Gojo saying ‘no’ to introducing Satsuki to aspects of sorcery were rare. “New shikigami means more friends like your ‘do-do’.”

But Satsuki had already moved on to crawling towards her rattles and her scattered Digimon plushies strewn across the floor.

“How’s everything out there?” Kaoru spoke up suddenly, finally allowing herself to get busy with folding freshly laundered linen for the nursery, now that the Fushiguro siblings had taken up babysitting.

“Busy. Too busy.” Megumi scooted closer to Tsumiki and the baby, and reached out to straighten the skewed collar of her dress. The fabric’s colors matched the decor outside. Apparently there was a theme — a theme that Megumi doubted no one but the birthday girl was going to stick to.

Tsumiki giggled as she handed tiny plushy after tiny plushy to Satsuki’s greedy little hands. “It’s like a whole other venue.”

“Poor Ijichi looks so stressed already.” Shiori piped up as she left the bathroom — probably all done organizing the essentials in there. “All for a baby’s party. He should relax more.”

Kaoru, from her place next to Shiori, pursed her lips. “I doubt Ijichi is at fault for his own distress.”

Kaoru, ever the polite one. In truth, Megumi knew (and so did Tsumiki) that she was just being a good person and not actually trying to badmouth her employer. As far as he knew, Ijichi was new to being an assistant, but that fact never really stopped Gojo from pushing people to make them do his bidding. Ijichi was just the latest victim apparently, and everyone knew that.

And because no one wanted to say it—

“Gojo’s stressing him out, that’s all.” Megumi shrugged.

“Go-go!” Satsuki interrupted them all with her giggling. “See Go-go Go-go~”

“Mhmm…” Tsumiki nodded along, wrapping her arms around the baby as she brought the girl to her lap. “Go-jo. It’s your last name, Tsuki. Say it. Go- Jo—”

“Jo-jo! Jo-jo jo-jo jo-jo~ See Jo-jo!”

Despite his usual disposition, Megumi couldn’t fight the smile that caused the edges of his lips to turn up just a tiny bit. Tsumiki had always been particularly good at entertaining Satsuki’s baby talk, encouraging her to keep speaking and communicating. ‘Da-da’ may have been Satsuki’s first word, but Tsumiki was quickly shaping up to be a most favored guardian. Megumi had seen it several times before; even when the baby girl was safely nestled in Gojo’s arms, Satsuki always reached for Tsumiki whenever she so much as spotted the other girl.

Three timid knocks followed by the door swinging open slightly drew the attention of the nursery’s current occupants.

Megumi couldn’t attest to knowing this person at all, but the face that poked in was familiar. The woman had the face of his and Tsumiki’s beloved caretaker, and that was all he needed to see to know who this person was.

“I’m sorry for intruding, but I rarely see her as is, I thought I should see her before everyone else arrives.” The middle-aged woman offered the children and the three nannies a smile.

“Of course, please come in.”

His sister always knew what to say and how to be so welcoming. What Megumi lacked in amicability, Tsumiki made up for with the kindest smile. Satsuki looked content to stay on Tsumiki’s lap, happily grabbing and pulling on the ears and faux whiskers of her toys, as Megumi scooted further back to make room for the lady.

She moved carefully — almost fearful of disturbing the mess of colorful plastic on the nursery floor — and settled next to the bean bag that Megumi had claimed when he made space for their visitor. Seeing the woman up close was even eerier. Gojo’s deceased girlfriend looked so much like this woman. Megumi didn’t like to dwell too much on the permanent loss of someone important in his and Tsumiki’s life, but there were instances where Fate would graciously remind him of what their — dare he say it — family was missing.

No one said it, but everyone agreed that Satsuki’s mother should have been here.

“—So big now, little Satsuki! Can you believe it’s been a year since you were born?” The woman mused; her soft voice almost drowned out by the sound of Satsuki squealing and giggling in response to being tickled. “I understand your father is a busy man, and I’m sure he’s doing his best, but only seeing you once a month feels like it’s never enough. Can you say Na-na? Go on, say ‘na-na’.”

“Da-da!”

“Na-na…”

“Da-na! Da-na da-da!”

Megumi watched quietly as the women continued to fawn over Satsuki, deliberately pretending he didn’t discern the sadness that Satsuki’s maternal grandmother tried her best to hide behind smiling eyes.

[chaos-in-one]

People who comment "gentle parenting at it's finest" on posts of kids having a meltdown in public and their parents not doing anything about it do not understand what gentle parenting means at all and it makes me want to put my head through a wall

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: NSFW, dubcon, yandere, bully/mean Gojo

gn reader - fem clothing

“Summer did you good, didn’t it?”

Your ears grate at the familiar voice. So smug you can feel the smirk before turning around to see it in all its pearly glory. 

“Leave me alone, Gojo.” You sigh, taking your drink before trying to slide passed him.

But he stands close – too close, still in the intimate club – so close his thigh brushes yours where you sit on the bar stool. “I’ll leave you alone… if you make it worth my while~”

Your nose scrunches. “Gross. I’d sooner fuck a curse.”

His smile doesn’t drop despite your insult. “I’ve got six eyes, you know…  You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”

Your eyes narrow, biting out a “What?” and his smile becomes a chuckle. 

“Short skirts and tight tops. Sitting here all alone.” His black shades dip when he looks down his nose at you, a knowing look in his loud blues. “You’re fishing- and lucky you got me hooked.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you smack your teeth. “And now I'm throwing you back out to sea.”

You try again to hop off your seat, but he leans a hand against the bar and traps you there.

“Who’re you dressin’ up for then, hm?” He continues, getting in closer, bearing down until his lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering, “You know~  all guys are pigs. I guess you’re happy being slop in a trough.”

You put a hand on his chest, but it doesn’t budge him – and when he leans back again on his own, he flashes an even wider grin at you.

“I mean, hell- If I knew you were such a needy slut, I’d mercy-fuck you sooner- shoulda just said so-”

“Shut up.” You snap.

He tilts his head, feeling undeterred – actually, the opposite, offering another snicker. “Oh? Grown some balls under that skirt, too, hm?”

You make another grimace at his crudeness, deliberating throwing your drink in his face.

“What? A couple of compliments and free drinks, and suddenly, you think you’re too good for me?”

You’re reminded of the gap in your rank – why you should hold your tongue.

You sigh – defeatedly now. “Just leave me alone, Gojo-”

But he’s not done having his fun. 

“You’re nothing.” He flicks his tongue off his smile. “You’re a curseless loser- and you don’t have to have six eyes to see it.”

Hints of hurt flicker through the anger on your face, and your scowl wavers – turning into a pout while you look up at him, trying to hold it together. His grin spreads when he sees it, and his words grow colder, cutting deeper.

“Don’t kid yourself- only reason anyone’s lookin’ at yah twice s’cause it’s real hilarious watching your pathetic ass think you’re anything but a-”

“I get it.” You cut him off, voice weak. “You’ve made your point…”

You slide off your stool, squeezing past him with your head bowed to hide the tears welling in the corner of your eyes – threatening to slip if you waited a second longer.

But before you’re able to disappear into the crowd, you’re stopped once again by a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Before you go, just know… if you ever decide to dress up like a little slut again- I’ll take it as an invitation.”

The tears slip while you look up at him. 

He takes a second to admire it before letting go. Watching you rush out.

You stand outside in the cold and catch your breath. Wiping your cheeks with hitched cries before a jacket is slumped over your shoulders.

“I don’t think I wanna roleplay this anymore, Toru- It’s too much-” You sniffle, curling yourself against his chest with tiny fists balled in his shirt.

“I know-” He coos, wrapping his arms around you while resting his chin off the top of your head, swaddling you. “But it makes me so fucking hard. Feel-” He groans, rubbing his fattened groin into your stomach.

“I’m not in the mood anymore-” You whine in return, trying to nudge him and his boner off.

But he keeps you in his arms, hugging you tight, a whine escaping his own lips. “No- please don’t. Don’t leave me all blue-balled, angel. Please~”

“You’re so selfish.” You pout, allowing it.

“Yeah~ I’m the worst~” He agrees with a snicker, releasing you – holding your hand as he begins leading you to the car, a hurried spring in his step. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You’re not even listening.” You argue, getting dragged along.

He places you against the door. “Please, I need you. I’ll beg if that’s what you want.” He moans hotly while kissing up your neck – fiddling for the keys in his pocket before unlocking and popping open the back seat. 

You don’t fight him, getting overwhelmed when he lays you down – his kisses never-ending and hunting for all those soft spots he knows make you weak. 

“Can’t believe people dare look at you-” He breathes, almost in a growl, lifting your thighs up around his torso while nestling between them. Rocking his bump against the thin lace of your panties. Voice growing more and more rowdy. “I oughta go back in and level ‘em all.”

He sucks a hickey into your neck, then a small ring of teeth on your collar. You whine at the bruising but don’t do anything to make him stop. Instead, your small hands reach out to his belt – unbuckling it and unbuttoning him, tugging his pants down until they bunch around where he’s knelt.

He makes the last liberties and finds his place between your thighs with a sigh.

“Buncha small-fries… everybody knows you’re mine.”

You sit in his lap when you’re done. Naked with your dress bunched around your midriff. Nips stiff and perky – too cute to ignore, so every now and again, he bows his head to give them a kiss or two. It never fails to make you squeal.

“You think you can fit into your old school uniform?” He mouths against you, licking kisses from your chest up to your neck – sucking your cheek before placing a chaste peck on the corner of your mouth. “I wanna poor milk on yah like I used to~

He’s always so clingy after cumming. You try and wrench away from the neediness, but it’s obvious you don’t give it much effort – mostly just scrunching your face. “You’re such a jerk.”

He hums in agreeance, and you feel his smirk through his kisses and then in his laugh. “Don’t cry, it’s not the type of milk you’re thinking of.”

You blush at the comment, ushering out a curt “Pervert.”

But he only pushes, moaning out a “Please~” while kneading your hip and rubbing your thigh – pressing his face into your neck, nuzzling you with eyes closed and mouth open.

So clingy, you feel embarrassed and ticklish under all the attention. Shaking your head. “It won't fit- it’s years ago-”

He pouts with a grumble. But it doesn’t take long before the smirk returns, inching back onto his lips. “I bet you’d fit in mine, though~”

You grow even more shy at the suggestion. “You’re so weird.”

He only laughs. “And you’re so in love with me~ which means you’re even weirder. Hah, loser?”

You frown at the nickname, again making an effort to twist away from the myriad of kisses and lovebites. “You’re insane.”

But he catches your face in his hand. Squishing your cheeks and turning your head to look back at him. “Damn right, I am.” He agrees, then turns it into a playful threat. “So you’d better never leave me. ‘You think I was a bully in school? Just imagine what a nightmare I’d be now. I’m a god; I’d get away with anything.”

You giggle at his silly dramatics. 

“You laugh, but I’m not joking.” He continues, still with your face in his hands. His big round eyes peeled. “I wouldn’t just stalk and terrorize you. I’d destroy your life if you ever left me. I’d make you lose your job, your apartment, your friends, your clan- I’d make sure you had no one left to turn to, nowhere left to run but right back to me.”

Your giggles die down, leaving a small smile playing on your lips before you press them softly against his. 

“And here I was thinking you’d just settle for sending creepy letters…”

He chuckles under his breath, “Childsplay.” Then kisses you again – this time a little longer. Giving your cheeks a squeeze before releasing you softly. Resting his forehead against yours with your noses touching.

His voice is a little more solemn now, genuinely serious this time. 

“But you would never leave me, right?”

The wet traces of his kisses cool in the absence of his lips while his thumbs feather your flesh so delicately. Holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the entire world.

You tilt your head and kiss him again – chastely and sweet.

“Never.”

[obsessedwithceleste]

Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Eight

— Little Big Allergy

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.6k

Note: I am not a medical professional, so please let me know if something is incorrect

"Don't you dare think about cancelling, you are going on that date," your best friend's voice rang out of your phone on speaker while you were choosing a dress for tonight.

You turned to look at the phone, as if your best friend was standing there, "I'm not going to cancel, I just don't know what to wear," you responded, placing another dress against your body but frowning.

"Wear that one sexy red dress you have, who knows, you might just get laid tonight."

You shuffled through your closet, finding the red dress in the back, which was expected since you didn't wear it in a long time. You held it out in front of you, "don't you think it's too revealing for the first date? Maybe I could wear this next time."

It was a backless, short garment with two straps. While the back was revealing, so was the front, which featured two cutouts around the hips and exposed a bit of cleavage due to the lack of material.

Your friend hummed, "so we're planning a second date as well huh?" You could basically hear her smirk on the other end. "Well I hope this date goes well," you reasoned, but the jittery feeling didn't go away.

"You and Max are already good friends who happen to flirt occasionally, what could go wrong?" Then after a short pause, she added, "actually no, don't answer that. Try your blue dress, I bet he'd like to see you in blue."

After almost every interaction you've had with Max, starting from the grocery store, you've told your friend everything. Which is why when she suggested wearing blue, you weren't opposed to it.

Putting your red dress back in the closet for another time, which was hopefully soon, you held a navy blue dress in your hand, examining it before holding it up against your body.

While this one, like the red dress, had two straps holding it together, it was longer, reaching a few inches past your knees and including a little slit down the side for convenience.

"Alright, this is the one," you stated and continued conversing with your friend while you changed and began doing your makeup.

"So Bella is at Tyler's?" She asked, making you nod before realizing that she couldn't see you. "Yeah, she'll be there for the weekend."

"Oh how fun!" You could hear the sarcasm in her voice and chuckled, "it's fine, she should be spending time with her dad."

"The same one who called her overdramatic? Did you seriously have to have a kid with a guy like him?" This was a conversation you've had with her many times, and you would always reply with the same answer, "we were young and immature, but Isabella is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"She truly is, which makes me glad that she turned out like you more than him." You chuckled, "oh trust me, I am glad about that too. It would've been a nightmare if I had to see a little version of him all the time."

"So, speaking of Isabella, how are you going to tell her that you are dating someone who happens to be her favourite person in her favourite sport?"

You groaned, "I don't know, I really don't know. I can't stop thinking about it, because of what Tyler told me," you explained. "Are you still believing his words? Actually scratch that, why are you letting your ex determine your future relationship?"

"God, why do you have to ask such questions," you muttered, taking a moment to think about your response.

"I don't want to believe him, I have a feeling something else happened that day which he didn't tell me about. Plus he's not only my ex, he's the father of my child. I don't think of him as anything more than that."

"Honestly that asshole shouldn't even be considered the father of such a beautiful little girl," your friend stated, and you couldn't help but agree with her.

"Anyways, let's not talk about him, I don't want to ruin my mood before the night even starts," you comment, with your friend humming in agreement.

"You're right, let's talk about Max!" She exclaimed, making you chuckle. That's whom you ended up talking about for the remainder of the time you were getting ready.

Even though she knew all the details right from day one, she wanted another whole story time of how you and Max met, leading up to when he asked you out. Instead of opposing to repeat the story, which you don't even know how many times you've told her by now, you happily told her all the details as if it was the first time.

A few minutes after you ended the phone call with your best friend, your phone rang again which you initially thought was a call from Max. However, it was a call from an unknown number.

You answered the call, and you were met with a woman's panicking voice on the other end, "is this Isabella's mother?"

"Yes, who is this?" You asked first, calming down the inner voices that instantly thought about the worse possible scenario involving your daughter.

"I'm Emma, I don't know if you know me but I am actually at the hospital, with Isabella." You tightened your grasp on the phone, as it was close to slipping away from your hands at Emma's words.

"What happened and which hospital are you at?" You instantly began moving around your house, finding your car keys as you waited for a response.

Emma told you the address as you were leaving through the front door. "She had a severe allergic reaction, and I thought it would be best to bring her to the hospital. I am sorry for disturbing you, I wasn't able to get in touch with Tyler."

You took a deep breath in, knowing that it was bound to happen someday, even though you would rather not have it happen at all. "I'm on my way, should be there in ten minutes. Thank you for letting me know."

It would've been pointless to argue with her, especially since she was the one who informed you of the situation at hand and had the decency to take your daughter to the hospital.

You rushed into the hospital within eight minutes, a record time for you, and you might've broken a few speeding laws but it was for a good reason. It didn't take too long finding Isabella, considering she was in the ER, with a frantic woman standing nearby, whom you assumed was Emma.

As soon as she spotted you, her first words to you was another apology, "I am so, so sorry, I had no idea she had a peanut allergy." That led you towards one question, well more than one but you started off with just one, "what happened?"

She sighed, before telling you how she spent the entire day with Isabella. "One of my friends came by and dropped off some baked goods, I swear I had no idea that it had peanuts in it."

You reasoned that if you calmed her down, it would calm you down as well, because the increasing dread in your thoughts would not benefit you in any situation. You put your hands on her shoulders, "I'm not blaming you for it, you didn't know."

You looked at the doors leading to the ER, "how bad was it?" Emma hesitated before muttering words that made your heart ache, "really bad, she started swelling up everywhere and then passed out."

You tried to sit down, but the need to know her well-being caused you to walk back and forth in the hallway.  Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you were about to ignore it until you recalled something really important.

"Shit!" Max was calling. Of course he was, after all he was expecting you to be home and ready for a date tonight.

"Hey, I'm standing at your front door, are you home or?" He started and awkwardly chuckled, causing you to shut your eyes, imagining how the night was expected to go. He was probably holding a bouquet of flowers, looking like an idiot standing by the door because you weren't home.

"Max, I'm so sorry, I'm actually at the hospital." There was no reason to lie, but even after telling the truth, you didn't feel any less guilty.

"What happened? Are you okay? Is Isabella okay?" His response was quick, and slightly surprising but you've known Max long enough that his kindness wasn't as shocking anymore.

"It's Isabella, allergic reaction," you briefly described, and heard some shuffling around on the other end before he asked for the address. "You don't have to come," you told him as you normally did, but he didn't agree again, saying "I want to."

You didn't argue with him, as your heart warmed at the fact that Max wanted to see Isabella himself, and stay right by your side until she was completely fine.

Quickly telling him the address as you noticed a doctor walking towards you and Emma, you hung up the call. "Which one of you is the patient's guardian?"

You stepped forward, "I'm her mother, how is she?"

"It was an anaphylactic allergic reaction, however everything is under control. We've administered epinephrine but we will be moving her to the ICU for a few hours just for observation purposes in case the symptoms are back."

You let out a sigh in relief, as did Emma. "Thank you," you nodded towards the doctor. Once they left, you sat down, the anxiousness leaving your body.

Looking at Emma, who was standing against the wall in front of you, you had another question brewing in your mind. "Where was Tyler when all this happened?" You asked, remembering that she called you only because she couldn't reach him.

"He said he had an emergency meeting come up," Emma spoke her words carefully, earning raised eyebrows from you. "He left you alone with my daughter?" You had to confirm the words you were hearing and scoffed once she nodded.

"It's not your responsibility to take of my child, it's his. You're not her guardian nor babysitter, you shouldn't have to do that." Emma shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, "it's not the first time."

"How dare he?" You muttered under your breath before standing up and stepping closer to her. "We both have epipens for situations like this, and I am assuming that since you didn't know about her allergy, Tyler didn't tell you about the epipen either?”

Emma shook her head, "no, he didn't."

His lack of attention, led Isabella right to this moment. If he had told Emma about your daughter's allergy, or even what to do when she has allergic reaction, neither of you would be this worried about her health.

Emma, having realizing the depth of the situation, sighed, "I haven't been able to get a hold of him and if it weren't for Isabella constantly talking about you and telling me your phone number to the point where I had it memorized, I wouldn't have known what to do in this situation."

You pitied the woman standing in front of you, especially as you also knew that it was not her fault. You cracked a smile, "she talks about me huh?"

"Oh yeah, she considers you the best mother in the world, and based on her stories, I agree with her."

Then, you heard Max calling your name, walking towards you in a rush. He instantly wrapped an arm around your waist as if it was an instinct, "is she okay?"

Emma stepped away, picking up her phone for another useless attempt of calling her boyfriend.

You wrapped both arms around Max, bringing him in a hug, "yeah, she's okay."

Once he pulled back, he cradled your face with his palms, "are you okay?" You smiled, and your eyes filled with unshed tears because of his question. "Much better now."

Then, Max noticed your outfit which happened to be the dress you were supposed to wear on your date. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze unwavering, taking you in.

He was also dressed up, wearing a suit with a bow tie, and you couldn't help but reach up to touch it, "cute," you commented, making him raise his brows.

"Cute?" He repeated with a questioning tone. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to prevent a smile. "Cute and handsome."

"You are beautiful," he replied, watching as you avert your eyes because his gaze was intense.

"Oh, Max, this is Emma," you decided to introduce them, and added, "she's the one who brought Isabella here."

Max raised an eyebrow in question, "I thought Isabella was with Tyler?" He asked, directed at you more than Emma.

"Well, he wasn't home when this happened, only Emma and Isabella," you stated, and Max gauged your emotions for a moment, quickly recognizing the underlying rage you had directed at your ex. Max knew you'd be discussing this later, in the safety of your own house, so he didn't ask you to elaborate. 

A nurse came by, "Isabella is now conscious, and asking for her parents," they stated, along with the room number.

Emma looked at you and Max with a fond smile, before turning towards you, "I think I should get going now that you're here."

A genuine smile graced your lips, "thank you, Emma, for bringing her here and for staying with her even without him."

"Of course, she's the cutest little girl and I'm glad to get to know her." Both of you stood still for a moment, debating on whether or not you should hug her. Then, without thinking twice you initiated a hug that was easily welcomed by her.

You waited till she left your sights before looking at Max, "let's go?" You held out your hand but he shrugged, "she's asking for her parents, you should go."

You stepped forward and grabbed his hand, "you're coming with me," you decided for him. Although Max didn't pull away, he asked, "what if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Trust me, she'll be happy to see you," you convinced him and walked towards the room she was admitted in while holding each other's hand.

When you entered, Isabella's smile widened once she spotted you and Max. "Mama, Maxy!" She cheered, though quieter than usual.

A nurse stood by her side, monitoring her health and checking the IV drip inserted into your daughter's arm.

"Oh my angel, how are you?" You dropped Max's hand and walked closer to her, lightly kissing her forehead. Instead of a verbal response, she formed a thumbs up with her hand.

Then she looked at the door again, "is daddy coming too?" Isabella asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head, "no sweetheart, daddy is not coming."

Instead of the usual deflated mood, she shrugged, "it's okay, Maxy's here." She held her arms around asking for a hug, only flinching for a moment since she forgot about the drip connected to her arm.

Max quickly stepped forward, bending over to hug her. "All good, Bella?" He asked, once he felt her arms wrap around him tighter. She nodded for a moment then shook her head against him, "it hurts," she whispered.

He brought his hand up to ruffle her hair before pulling away, "you are a very brave girl."

"Really?" She asked, and scooted over a little so Max could sit beside her. He nodded, "of course! Very brave."

She beamed, snuggling closer to him before looking at you. "Mama, come here," she patted the other side, and surprisingly the three of you were able to fit on the very small hospital bed.

A nurse was constantly in the room, checking in on Isabella's health from time to time and since there weren't any repeated symptoms of an allergic reaction, the three of you were out of the hospital in a few hours.

Max followed you in his car, and carried your sleeping daughter inside the house. Instead of taking her straight to her bedroom, he laid her down on the couch in case she wakes up and needs her mother.

It was safe to say that you were not going too far away from her any time soon.

You were in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water when he returned. He stood behind you, with his hands trailing down your sides before resting on your waist, and his chin on your shoulder. "Did I tell you how stunning you look?"

You hummed, "maybe a few times but I don't mind hearing it again."

He turned you around in his grasp, "well, you look breathtakingly beautiful."

You blushed, "you and your compliments," you chuckled. "What's wrong with it?" He asked, but you shook your head, "nothing, it's just I'll never get bored of hearing it."

He smiled, "good, because you'll be hearing at least one every day."

You tilted your head to the side, "every day? Are you sure you won't run out?" He shook his head, "not unless you keep finding ways to make me speechless."

Both of you remained in that position for a moment but then you frowned, "I'm sorry,"

"For what?" He tilted your chin up as soon as you averted your gaze away from him. "We weren't able to go on the date."

Max let out a sound in protest, "I'm pretty sure your daughter's health matters so much more than our date night. Plus the night isn't over," he added with a smile, confusing you even further.

"What does that mean?" He parted away from you and it quickly made you miss the warmth that his body provided you. "Why don't you go change into something comfortable," he suggested, almost pushing you out of the kitchen.

You weren't opposed to the idea, so you went upstairs to change after checking on your daughter. You found the most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and removed your makeup as well.

Walking back downstairs, you saw Max waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you. He had removed his blazer and bow tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as well.

He held out his hand, waiting for your hand to hold his, and although you were confused, you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to hold his hand.

"It's not much, definitely not up to first date standards but we'll manage," he commented as he led you to the kitchen table where he had prepared two packets of instant noodles.

"I haven't been on a date in forever so anything you do will set my standards." You smiled when you noticed the lit candle.

"Well, then I will raise your standards next time by taking you out on a proper date." He held the chair out for you, waiting for you to sit before rounding the table and sitting down himself.

It took two minutes before Max moved his own chair right next to yours because he didn't want to sit on the opposite side. You chuckled at his antics but it was much appreciated.

"What's on your mind?" he asked once he saw you visibly thinking. You shrugged, "I don't think we should be discussing these thoughts on a first date."

"This is far from what a first date should be like, so there are no rules. I know you want to talk about what happened at the hospital," he prompted and he was spot on, so you agreed.

"I can't believe he actually left Isabella under Emma's supervision. Not that there is anything wrong with her, but it's not her responsibility!" Max nodded in agreement, "where was he?"

"In a fucking meeting," you exasperated, eating another forkful of the noodles. "It must've been very stressful for Emma," you sighed, finishing your short rant because you truly had no words for your ex's irresponsible behaviour.

Still, Max listened to every word. Once you were finished eating, he turned your chair towards him. "We can agree on the fact that he is an incompetent father."

"Yeah, I don't even know what would've happened if Emma wasn't there either. He surely wouldn't have left Bella alone right?"

Max shrugged, "hey, stop worrying about what could've happened. Bella's safe, she's okay." He placed a palm on your cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.

You nodded, "you're right." Making eye contact with him, you were quickly lost in his gaze. While it almost made you want to look away, you couldn't.

"You know," you started, wanting to divert away from the current topic. He hummed, urging you to go on.

"I don't really care for an extravagant date, all I really need is you. I'm happy with this, with us." He smiled, to the point where you could notice the creases forming at the corners.

"I'm happy with us too, but I will be taking you out on an extravagant date because you deserve it, as well as much more."

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that it would be hard to convince Max otherwise, but you could think of a few ways to try when the time comes.

"Thank you for being here with me," you added, needing him to know about your appreciation. Your words also hinted at all the moments he shared with you, and Isabella.

He seemed to understand your hint, "I'm glad to be here with you, both of you."

Taglist: (continuing the taglist in comments) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo

[milkteahood]

texas heat

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: basically a smut with a plot

Sweat broke on your forehead as you wiped it still half asleep. It was terribly hot to even rest. As your eyes opened and started to adjust to the darkness around you, thoughts about the whole situation were still fresh in your mind. How long has it been? You thought to yourself. A few months maybe? 4? 5?

You stopped counting the days after the first few weeks. What for anyway? It wasn’t like you were ever leaving.

***

“Come on boys! We are completely lost!” your friend spoke, gesturing with her hands.

“It’s fine! It’s all good. A little detour” the driver laughed without a care in the world.

“That’s right Sam! Stop being so difficult. Look, Y/N isn’t saying anything” the other guy talked from the passenger’s seat.

At the mention of your name, you looked up from your book, and then quickly got back to it. You weren’t actually reading, but they weren’t paying attention to that. If they did, they would’ve seen you didn’t turn any page in the last 5 minutes. Pretending was just a good excuse to be out of this circus of conversation.

You didn’t consider any of them your friends. And you were sure they didn’t think of you as that either. They were Sam’s friends. And Sam was your friend out of convenience, just as you were to her. You wanted to travel, and she didn’t want to be the only girl on the trip.

“Come on Y/N!” Sam started “whose side are you on?”

“Maybe we should stop and ask for directions” you finally raised a point.

“Yeah? And where the fuck would we stop for that?” the driver asked “there is nothing around here!”

A sigh escaped your lips and you finally put the book down, looking out the window. Then, suddenly, you pressed your finger on the window, gesturing in the distance “there, it looks like a house”.

Little did any of you know this was the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.

***

Rubbing your eyes, you looked at the little clock on your nightstand. 11:30 pm it said. It wasn’t that late, yet you couldn’t remember when you fell asleep. Realistically, the only one still awake was Thomas. The thought of that made you freeze in place. Oh yes, you thought to yourself again the summer isn’t the only reason I can’t sleep.

Another sigh left your lips. You didn’t think you would end up in this situation. Spared by a bunch of cannibals for the sole reason you smacked the driver when he started insulting Thomas.

***

“Hello?” the driver’s friend… Jason? Jack? Jeremy? J something. You couldn’t remember. Your name memory was never your strongest suit.

“Hello?” J began knocking again. And a second time. Just before knocking for a 3rd time, a woman opened the door.

“Yes? Who are you?” she spoke.

“Oh hello ma’am!” Sam approached “we are completely lost. We were wondering if you could give us any directions”

Luda Mae looked all of you up and down before speaking “come inside. You will die of the heat before you get any directions”

The boys looked at each other and you looked at Sam. But ultimately decided to follow the lady inside.

***

The memories were still fresh and you were sure they would be for the rest of your life. As you lay on your back, looking around the room, you felt your heart skip a beat as another thought made itself apparent. Thomas. Or better said. Your crush on Thomas. In the past month or so, you tried your best to get close to him. You offered to help with everything and anything he needed. Yet, he did his best to avoid you. You weren’t dumb, you knew exactly why. He was absolutely terrified at the idea you’re just fucking around. Lying. Being nice to him so he wouldn’t kill you.

“For fucks sake Thomas. I was nice to you even before I knew you butchered people for a living” you whispered yelled alone, in your room.

***

“So kids, how did you end up here?” Luda Mae asked, trying to see if you would make a good addition to the Hewitt meat supply. Were you going somewhere? Was someone important waiting for you? What was the chance of people coming to look for you? Those were important questions that needed answers. They couldn’t risk killing someone that could potentially lead the police to them.

As the conversation was unfolding, the driver and J became more and more impatient to leave, and your head cocked when hearing some footsteps. Before you realized it, this massive man was sitting in the doorway, breathing heavily, not saying a word.

“Oh Tommy! Look! We have guests” Luda Mae said, looking at her son. Thomas was tall, a huge man, his apron covered in blood.

“Oh fuck! What the fuck is that? He looks like—” the driver said but didn’t get to finish whatever insults he was going to spew because you smacked him.

“Just shut up. For once. Not everything revolves around you and your daddy’s money. You can’t just speak this way to people” you said, while he looked you completely shocked. No one has ever dared speak to him that way. Let alone slap him.

And that was the moment Luda Mae decided you would be the only one left alive.

***

The floor was cooler than the bed. You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was so dark you could barely see, only managing to make out your silhouette. You stood there for a while, thinking of what you should do.

You liked Thomas from the moment you saw him. You tried to befriend him but all he did was ignore you. On the occasions he actually had to interact with you, he looked so tense, like he was on the verge of exploding. You tried to give him space, but it wasn’t really helping. And now you were pacing around your room, unable to sleep because all you wanted was Thomas. The man who killed your “friends”.

What the fuck is wrong with me… he’s a murderer, his whole family is crazy.

Yes and so are you. I mean, you’re not running. You think he’s hot. This man could dismember you in a heartbeat and you think he is attractive. Talk about fucked up.

You frowned at your own thoughts. Thomas wasn’t a monster. He did what he had to. Yet what was your excuse? Falling for him?

Your heart started racing. Yes, you were falling for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you went out of your room, down the stairs and into the living room. You stopped in front of the basement stairs and listened. Thomas was definitely still down there and it was now or never.

In the basement Thomas was still butchering some meat, not hearing you walk in over the sound of his cleaver. He didn’t like you coming there, he always thought you would judge him, mock him even.

“Thomas” you spoke, your voice making him stop with the cleaver still in the air. He lowered it and turned to you, not saying anything.

“It’s late Thomas. Maybe you should call it a day” you spoke softly, almost afraid to startle him.

You didn’t get a response. Then, he just turned around and continued what he was doing.

This made you frown and it hurt a little. Maybe he was not liking you as much as you liked him. Maybe he didn’t like you at all. However this couldn’t be further from the truth. He did like you. A lot. Which is why he was so scared to be around you.

You bit your lip, a little too hard, and decided to approach him. The second your hand touched his arm, Thomas completely froze. His body was incredibly tense and all he managed to do was look at you.

“Did I do something to upset you?” you tilted your head “you always seem to ignore me. I’m sorry if I upset you at all”.

Thomas’s wide widened. You were apologizing to him? What for? You thought he was mad at you? But how could he? He grunted back at you. In the beginning it was very difficult to understand him, but now you could make up the words he was saying. He said no.

“Well then what is it?” you pressed him, gently rubbing his arm. His eyes looked like they could come out of his head, immediately shifting his gaze away from you, almost shaking.

“Thomas, Tommy, oh no” you reached for his other hand which was still tight around the cleaver. Gesturing for him to let it go, you managed to turn him so he’d face you. “You’re ok. Everything is ok” you said, looking at him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. I’m sorry. I will go upstairs” you gave him a bit of a sad smile and turned to walk away. Yet, you didn’t get to take two steps before he stopped you. As you turned to him, he gave you another grunt. Stay. This one meant stay.

Both of you were blushing. Your brave girl facade paled the moment you felt his hand around your arm. Compared to him, you were incredibly tiny and for that, he treated you as if you were made of glass. Because to him, you were.

You stepped in front of him, both of you looking at each other. You learned to be gentle with him, maybe even more gentle than he was with you. Because unlike you, he never had people not be terrified of him.

Smiling, you cupped his face in your hands, which caught him off guard, but he didn’t stop you. For whatever reason, you were here, you didn’t try to run away, and you were kind to him. Before he knew it, he was leaning into your touch.

“Tommy?”

He opened his eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“I really like you, Thomas”

His now open eyes were widened, staring at you, almost looking through you, waiting to see any shred of dishonesty. But there was none. You were genuine. He then couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with you. How could you like him? No. He didn’t care. You liked him. And he was going to take it.

He didn’t realize some time passed without giving you an answer, which caused you to mumble another apology. He, however, didn’t let you finish. You soon found yourself in a hug. A very tight hug. Which you happily reciprocated.

After pulling away, you both looked at each other and without much of a second thought, you pulled the other into a kiss. It was reckless and full of built up frustrations on both parts. You were the first to pull away.

“Thomas.. it’s difficult to kiss you with that mask on”

He didn’t say anything and looked away. He didn’t want to show you. There was finally something he had and showing you his face might ruin it. He grunted a no.

“Please..” you pleaded while cupping his face again.

He damned himself for being so weak around you. You looked sad and a little disappointed. He let out a huge sigh and slowly took off his mask, letting it fall on the floor and completely avoiding your gaze. Whatever disgusted face you made, he didn’t want to see. Only if he looked to see it was not disgust but love.

“Fuck me you’re handsome” was all you said before pulling him in and kissing him again. He looked like a deer in headlights, but quickly melted into your kiss, picking you up and placing you on his workbench.

Your legs were wrapped around him, your hands pulling at his hair while he was tightly holding you by your waist. You felt his erection press against you, so you pushed yourself closer to him, which caused Thomas to grunt and moan into the kiss.

Thomas was the one to pull away this time, spending some time admiring you. Slowly, you started to unbutton his shirt “you can help me with mine if you want” you said a little flustered.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Once you felt his excitement, you knew Thomas was coming out of his shell. Soon enough yours and his shirts were thrown on the floor, and you were making out on the cold and hard workbench. You didn’t care, you also didn’t care that his grips wound leave bruises. You just wanted him. He cupped your breast, gently squeezing, earning himself a moan from you and the confirmation that he is doing it right.

“Please Tommy” you whined between kisses, tugging at his belt.

He wanted to so bad. But what if he hurt you? He had no what what he was doing. But how could he resist you? His whole body was shaking, you were begging him to have sex with you. Him. He pulled away from the kiss and quickly undid his belt and pants, making himself moan as he pulled his cock out. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Thomas naked in front of you. You look off your underwear and pull him into another kiss.

You didn’t think much before starting to palm his length, causing him to moan into your mouth. Thomas started thrusting as you were stroking him. He could cum just like that, but you wanted more. And he did too.

As your back rested on the cold table, Thomas climbed on top of you, neither daring to break the kiss. You couldn’t even wrap your legs around him, a detail he found really cute. He pulled away from the kiss only to look at your expression again. Was this really ok? Is this really what you wanted? You looked so beautiful and so turned on. Rubbing yourself against his erection was all the confirmation he needed before slowly starting to push his cock into you.

Feeling him inside you completely knocked the air out of you, immediately kissing him again, moaning into his mouth. Your figure, your voice, your shaking body were making Thomas go feral. His grunts on the other hand made your whole stomach feel hot. Thomas was thrusting into you, firmly holding your waist with one hand and supporting himself up with the other. Your arms were wrapped around his back, face buried into his neck, trying to muffle your moans.

He was hitting all the right spots, causing your mind to go blank and your nails to dig into his skin. Once his voice became shakier, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned and he responded by thrusting even harder. It was almost as if your every moan was making Thomas go more feral.

His rhythm was becoming more erratic, signaling that he was getting closer.

“It ok Tommy” you said between moans “I want you. Fill me up, please Tommy”.

Saying that was enough to push him over the edge. After a few more thrusts he came with a low, guttural moan, completely intoxicated by you.

You were both panting and looking at each other afterward. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Were you a dream? No. You were there, smiling at him. Did that mean you were his now? Yes. Most definitely.

He picked you up off of the table, squeezing you close to him. He was still panting and so were you, yet, both happy and finally content.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation

Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.

It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.

Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.

The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.

Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”

He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.

“Robin?”

“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”

“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”

“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”

“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”

“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.

“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”

“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.

“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”

Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.

“…Danny?”

Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”

“Yes.”

Just one word. A simple answer.

“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.

“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”

“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”

“Even if…”

“Even if anything.”

Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.

“Can I show you?”

“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.

“It might be bright, close your eyes.”

The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.

“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.

It was good he did.

He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.

-

“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.

Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.

“Badly.”

Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.

The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.

Cass was as worried as the rest of them.

“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.

“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”

“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.

“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.

Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.

He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.

“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”

Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”

Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”

Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.

Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.

“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”

Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”

“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”

“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.

It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”

Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”

“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.

“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”

Jason flinched.

Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”

Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.

Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.

Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.

Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.

Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.

Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.

Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.

They’d be okay.

It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.

Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.

They’d be okay.

-

Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.

He tried not to make a noise.

He tried to stay quiet.

They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—

There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.

Oh, he was crying.

“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”

That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.

He wasn’t there.

He could make noises.

He was safe.

“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”

Danny nodded as much as he could manage.

“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Danny shook his head.

“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”

Danny squeezed it three times.

“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”

One squeeze.

“Okay, let me go—”

Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.

“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”

Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.

“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”

“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”

“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.

Danny squeezed his hand again.

“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”

Danny trusted that.

It was surprising.

He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.

The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.

---

AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....

...Stay delightful, darlings?

[imbored1201]

Hi writer, may i request barca x teen reader, where reader is very bullied in school but does not tell anyone and the bullying results in her missing out school and classwork . The school contacts the Barcelona team and the team tries to find her. The reader finally tells the truth .Thanks

Dropping Out

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

You always hated school; practically everyone did. But probably the top reason for your hatred towards school was because you usually had to miss out on training over tests.

With the agreement Barcelona had made with your school, you entered after training, and during away games, you did most of your work online or your teacher sent you off with a bunch of packets.

If Alexia knew you were currently skipping them and eating ice cream at the place she always took you to, you would be grounded for life. You were certain the school wouldn’t call her; there was really no point to it.

In your mind, you still had your straight A’s, not actually aware that your grades had dropped, and now you were just a straight C student. You had a bunch of tests you needed to make up.

Well, a part of you knew about how much you dropped; you just chose to ignore it.

————

Alexia, on the other hand, was finally getting the peace she had been craving. She loved you, but you were a handful half the time. Especially when Olga wasn’t around, you quickly went from semi-behaved to terrible right when Olga was dropped off at the airport.

“Hello?” Alexia answered, “Yes, I’m her guardian." Mapi frowned, trying to get closer to Alexia to hear. The school never called; they had no reason to. You were a straight-A student who always kept up with all the work given.

“What do you mean she hasn't gone all week? I drop her off every day." Mapi grabbed Alexia’s phone, putting it on speaker.

“Ms. Putellas. We should make a meeting regarding Y/N; her teachers have been reporting that she’s been off; has there been anything going on at home?” Alexia looked around, where all the other girls were now crowding around her.

“No, she’s been acting the same." “Let’s just have that meeting and discuss it with her. Y/N is an amazing student; this isn’t like her at all.”

Alexia sighed. “Of course, I’m available any time.” She hung up quickly, making her way to her car and calling you.

"Ale,” Mapi called out for her, "what, Mapi? I need to go find her.” She was frustrated, not at you but at herself. She sighed when the call went straight to voicemail, only making her more nervous.

“Que paso con bebita?” “I don’t know, Mapi, there’s something wrong.” She looked at your little friend group, who were in the corner, looking worried.

“Ninas, do you have any idea where she’s at?” Salma shrugged, nudging Cata. “She said that she was craving ice cream last night,” which helped a lot. Alexia rushed to her car, knowing you were probably at the ice cream place you both loved.

She was always taken there when she was a little kid after a game, and now she makes sure to continue the tradition with you.

————

She sighed when she parked and saw you sitting on the curb, eating your ice cream. She quickly sent a text to the team, telling them she had found you.

She didn’t know whether to be strict or soft with you, considering she knew you wouldn’t just ignore school all of a sudden. But she also knew you were a teenager, and teenagers randomly love to rebel.

"Shit,” you cursed as you watched Alexia walk up to you. As much as you wanted to make a run for it, you knew you would be in deeper shit for that, but Alexia’s glare was enough to make you freeze.

“Ale, I’m sor-“ You were thrown off guard when she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Don’t ever disappear like that. At least tell Salma where you're going to be,” you muttered a sorry, sinking into the hug.

“Your school called me today; why haven’t you been going?” You looked down, not wanting to see Alexia's soft look that always got information out of you. “Ale, can’t I just drop out? I don’t need school.” You were close to tears, wanting to tell Alexia the truth but also scared.

“You do need school. Cariño, whats really going on?” You looked back at the ground, pushing away Alexia’s hands.

“They're very mean,” you sniffled, rubbing your eyes. Alexia quickly pulled you into a hug. “Who bebita?” “The kids always make fun of me, and the teachers never believe me when I try telling them about it.”

“Oh bebe,” she cursed herself for not noticing how sad you were, hated the teachers for ignoring you, and hated those kids for doing this to you. You could do no wrong in her eyes. Yes, you were a little asshole at times, but she still loved you.

“We’re going to figure this out. I’m going to get those kids expelled, and we’ll figure out a different situation for you." She wanted to kill those kids, but she knew she had to handle this in a mature way.

————

You told Alexia everything in the car. When it started, the names of the staff you tried telling about the kids bullying. Even the fact that one of your teachers would just listen to their insults and say nothing about it.

You were confused when she pulled up to Mapi and Ingrid’s place, and you were even more confused when you saw Mapi waiting outside. You pouted at her when you saw Claudia, Salma, and Patri. “You cannot leave me with them." "Yes, I can; behave; I’ll be back soon.” Before you could protest more, Mapi opened the door.

“Come on, bebe, I want to see you beat these rookies in FIFA,” Mapi grinned, pulling you out of the car. You looked confused, seeing some other familiar faces still in their car. Alexia, along with Irene, Marta, and Sandra, were going to march into your school and demand stuff be done against everyone who had hurt you.

Fridolina and Ingrid went to get you your favorite food and desserts to cheer you up while you and Salma kicked Patri’s and Pina’s asses in FIFA.

You were very happy when they returned, hoarding all the snacks and refusing to let anyone expect Frido and Ingrid to get any.

As you watched Pina and Patri argue over teams, your eyes drifted to the door when you heard a knock. You watched as Mapi opened it and your favorite person stepped in, “Ale!” You smiled widely, about to jump up and jump on her; it quickly turned into a frown when you noticed the angry expression on her face. You looked at Salma, who also looked a bit scared.

"Ale, I’m really sorry I skipped school.” Her eyes softened when she looked at you. “Don’t apologize, bebita; I’m sorry. I should have noticed what was going on; those assholes don’t want to do anything about those dumb kids. You’re no longer going to that school.”

“Can I drop out?” Alexia scowled. “No, we’re figuring out a different situation.” Salma smirked. Usually she was the one that helped you with your homework, but instead of trying to teach you things, she just commanded you around to do her favors while she did your work.

“Just please find something that won’t come in between my training." Alexia smiled at you, a proud look on her face now. “I know, bebe, I hated that you had to miss out on practice too. I’ll see what I can do.”

————

The different situation was switching to fully online, which you liked better. Now you were finishing your work before training, which gave you all day to just relax and hang out with the team.

The downside was the fact that Alexia knew you had more time, so she made you train more; she called it bonding, but sometimes you wished you still went to school in person to get away from it. Especially during the extra-running days.

And now you were a target of pranks, before you weren’t allowed to be pranked since you used the “I have too much work to be getting involved with your shenanigans excuse.”

They didn’t even buy the ‘I’ll tell Alexia and Irene’ threats that you always shouted.

Even then, you were happy to just be free.

[talaok]

Just this once

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!babysitter!reader

Summary: Everyone hates you in town, everyone except for Mr. Miller, who was kind enough to hire you as his daughter's babysitter.

Warnings: mentally and verbally abusive father, angst, unreciprocated love, no happy ending. Smut| oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie

Everyone hated you in this town.

Kids at school, moms, dads, even grandparents sometimes.

People crossed the street when they saw you, they waited until you turned around to whisper and scorn to the person beside them.

Everywhere you went, followed dirty looks and rude remarks.

In the hallways at school, at the drug store, pharmacy, park, you name it.

Everywhere, everyone seemed to despise old Carl's daughter just for being born, or maybe, maybe also because of the rumors that spread about her.

Like the one where you dealt drugs, which was not not the truth... but you never dealt meth.

Or the one where you'd fucked half the guys in town,

And least but not last, the one where you were the reason you poor pops had turned to alcohol.

Except they didn't know anything. they didn't know that your "poor pops" had begun his diet of a bottle of whiskey a day long before you were born, that he drove your mom mad to the point where she had fled without so much as a goodbye, leaving behind a few clothes and a stupid scrap of paper where she had written a fucking lie.

I love you

If she had actually loved you, she wouldn't have left.

And they didn't know that all the anger your father had, had turned to you, they didn't know how scary it was, to be afraid of your own father, to be alone at the age of thirteen, to have to take care of yourself, to have to grow up faster than you should.

They all hated you, and you didn't care, you swore you didn't care, because they didn't know, they didn't know shit.

But Mr. Miller was different.

He was the only person, together with his daughter, who had ever shown you kindness, the real kind.

He had seen you sobbing as you ran from your house after your dad had another one of his "episodes".

And god, you were so confused when he stopped you, when he put a hand on your shoulder and asked if everything was alright.

And you didn't tell him then, you didn't tell him everything that was going on and that your dad was an asshole and that your life was hell, you couldn't, there was always this everlasting shame fizzing underneath your skin whenever you felt the need to share. But he hadn't cared, he hadn't cared that you had told him nothing, he hadn't cared that all you did was say sorry and I need to go, because with just a glance it felt like he had seen right through you.

So then he'd told you where he lived, and even if that time he couldn't convince you to come in, it was you who showed up at his doorsteps two nights after, asking for a place to sleep which he offered without so much as a question.

And it was only a week later when you told him everything.

He had sat and listened as you cried and cried, he had stroked your hair and given you tissues, until finally, he offered you a job.

Babysitting his kid.

And you were scared at first, you weren't really equipped for the job, but the moment you met Sarah you realized just how easy it was gonna be.

taking care of her was fun, and it gave you an excuse to be away from your own home, sometimes even at night when the mere thought of seeing your father made you want to puke.

And Mr. Miller was always nice, he made breakfast, overpaid you like crazy, and he listened, he was always there to listen.

"dad, what are you talking about?" 

Mr. Miller's backyard was always perfectly mowed, and the treehouse he'd built his daughter stood high on the oak in the middle of it.

"I said-" even if you couldn't see him, you swore he was taking another gulp straight from the bottle " Where the fuck are you?" 

"I'm working dad, I told you" you said, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"You working?" he laughed "That's funny" he said, as his laugh turned into a disgusting cough "Tell me where you really are." his voice was slurry, but the anger in it still made you shiver "You at one of your boyfriends' houses?"

"No Dad, I'm at Mr. Miller's house" you sighed, it was sad really, how used you were to this by now.

"Mr. Miller huh?" a hiccup sounded through the phone "You fucking him too? You started going for older guys? Is that it? I bet that's it you little slut" he hissed "Your mother would be so disappointed... to see her only daughter grow up to be such a fucking whore"

There's a difference, when it's strangers calling you names, and when it's your own father.

You'd always wished his words didn't affect you, but somehow, they always found a way to hurt.

No matter how tough you made yourself to be, when it was him, you felt like a kid all over again.

"fuck you" you muttered, as tears pricked your eyes 

"Is that how you talk to your father you little bitch? Just wait till you come home, I'll see what you'll have to say then-"

And there were so many things you wanted to tell him, to scream at him, to drill into his non-existing brain, but all you did was press the red button and hung up.

And it took about a second before the tears started flowing like rivers.

You ran back inside the house, forgetting all about closing the glass door as you curled into a ball on the couch, trying to cry as silently as you could, so that Sarah wouldn't wake up.

You hated him. You hated everything, you just wanted to run away and start a new life somewhere else, Canada, Austria, even the fucking north pole sounded better than this.

You were just so tired, so exhausted. Every time you talked to your father all the energy you had, or thought you had left, got drained from your body, and for hours, you remained lifeless,

The only exception was when-

The front door opened, and those purposely quiet footsteps that you would have recognized anywhere, followed soon after.

Him, the only exception was when he was there to comfort you.

You sat up, quickly wiping your tears to try and look somewhat presentable.

"hey," he whispered, entering the living room "Sarah's asleep?"

"mh-mh, yes" you nodded

"I'm sorry I came home this late, it's just that the guys wanted to go out after work and I always tell them no..." he trailed off, as he sat next to you and got rid of his overused boots.

"I-It's not a problem, Mr. Miller"

He shook his head, smiling in that charming way of his as he sat his shoes next to the coffee table and turned to look at you.

"How many times have I told you that you can just call me J-"

But his words died in his throat the moment he caught a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes, (that he'd come to know too well) and of that look on your face.

"What happened?"

They were such simple words, but they hit like tnt too close to a dam, breaking the barrier and causing all the water to run out.

His arms were around you the moment the first tear fell.

"shh" he cooed, stroking your back as you sobbed into his chest "It's alright, everythin's alright, sweetheart"

You wrapped your arms around his broad torso, feeling all his muscles underneath the fabric as you drowned in his scent. He always smelt so manly and so... good.

"I-I'm sorry it's just" A sob climbed up your throat "He-he called and I-I" You never finished the sentence as other tears started flowing from your eyes.

"I'm sorry honey" he cooed, placing his cheek on top of your head"it's ok" he murmured "It's all gonna be fine, I promise"

"w-when?" you cried, finally looking up at him "I'm so tired of this Mr. Miller..."

"soon" he promised "You're a smart girl, you'll get far in life sweetheart, I just know it"

you breathed heavily into his chest for a few minutes, listening to his heart beat as you calmed your own.

"t-thank you" you sniffled

"of course, darlin'"

And as you glanced at him, at his soft beard, at his kind eyes, your brain short-circuited and your mouth got a mind of its own, and before you realized it, your lips were on his.

And god he felt so good

"y/n-" he spoke as you tried to deepen the kiss "What are you doing?"

"I just-" you stuttered, not able to tear your glaze off his soft lips "please" you murmured, not knowing what else to say as you leaned up to kiss him again,

"sweetheart this ain't right I-"

"please Mr. Miller" you begged, placing your hand on his shoulder and pecs, as you left a quick kiss on his lips again "please just this once"

"y/n..." he tried to speak but was interrupted by your mouth finding his neck.

"please" you repeated for the thousandth time, your breath fanning over his neck "just this one time" 

"darlin'... I don't know if this is a good idea"

"it is" you quickly corrected him, your kisses lowering down his body, until all you could do was shuffle off the couch to get between his parted legs "it's a really good idea"

You saw him swallow thickly at the sight before him

"no sweetheart, you don't gotta do that"

"I want to" you reassured him, hurriedly undoing his belt and zipper until his black boxers were all that obstructed your view.

You palmed his manhood through the fabric, feeling it harden underneath your palm, before you gently took it out, looking up at him for approval as you wrapped one hand around it and let your lips follow suit.

A loud shuddering breath fled his mouth as you fitted more and more of him into your mouth, and you took it as an incentive to get lower, fully choking on his cock.

"f-fuck" he groaned

You started bobbing your head up and down, your eyes never leaving the sight of him breathing heavily before you.

You were doing good, but you wanted to do amazing for Mr. Miller, so you gingerly took his cock out of your mouth to start a slow trail of kisses and kitty lips down the whole length of him, until you reached his balls, and without a second thought, reserved them of the same treatment, before starting to suck on those too.

"fuck. me." he breathed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes.

You leaned away for a moment, still pumping him with your hand "Does it feel good?" you asked

"fuck-yeah sweetheart" he gulped, looking down at you "it feels real fucking good- you're-fuck-you're amazing"

The biggest smile ever spread on your face at that, and with a renewed vigor, you got back to sucking his balls even better.

series of profanities continued coming out of his mouth as you got back to his dick, letting your tongue run on his tip for a few moments before getting back to filling your mouth with it.

You watched his hands curl by his sides, and without thinking, you let one of your own travel to his, softly placing your palm over it in a makeshift hold, which wasn't really a hold because he didn't turn his hand to do it properly.

But it didn't matter now, he was enjoying this, something you were doing for him, something you had dreamed of doing to him times and times again, and that's all you cared about.

You bobbed your head for a few more moments before you leaned away and quickly got up to get rid of your pants.

He watched you, too fucked out and torn with guilt and confusion to understand anything anymore, step out of your panties, place your hands on his shoulders, and straddle him.

you reached down for his dick, and without too much of a premise, sank down on it.

"oh god" you moaned, stopping a moment to take a deep breath at the feeling, as a low groan rumbled in his chest.

"you feel so good" you murmured, kissing him passionately as you started riding him.

His hands gripped your waist as a way for him to try and ground himself back on this earth because fuck but, you felt fucking good too

"touch my tits please" you said, ghosting his mouth.

"Sweetheart..."

"Please, Mr. Miller" you pouted, rising and sinking from his cock even faster

"Joel- please call me Joel" 

"Please Joel, touch my tits"

And who was he to say no to you when you asked him like that?

One of his big strong hands seeped underneath your top and found your boobs, stroking and grabbing at them heavenly.

You couldn't help but gasp at the mix of pleasures, your head falling to the crook of his neck.

The sound bouncing off the walls of the living room was straight out dirty and the breeze coming from the open glass door on your left softly floated through the room, at times hitting your raw skin.

"oh my god" you whimpered, muffled by Joel's skin "o-oh my"

He was filling every inch of you, stretching you so fucking good it made you want to scream if it wasn't for Sarah sleeping just upstairs.

You lost yourself in him, in his soft grunts, in his most raw scent, in the way his beard rutted against your cheek, and slowly, slowly you felt a bubble form in your belly, getting more and more ready to explode.

"F-fuck" you whined, "I-I think I'm-I'm coming"

His only response was to tighten his hold on you, before you fastened your pace, desperately chasing your high.

your breathing got even heavier as you remerged from his neck to look at him in the eyes and meet his lips with yours once again.

Kissing his was like traveling to another universe, he was just so... perfect

 "Joel" you whispered, losing yourself in his hazel eyes, as the pleasure got stronger and stronger until you felt like you could barely breathe "Joel I love you"

You watched his eyes widen slightly but before he could speak your orgasm took over your body and you had to hide your head in the crook of his neck again to try not to moan too loud.

"it's ok" he murmured, placing a hand on the back of your head soothingly "It's all gonna be ok sweetheart"

You rode out your high, never stopping your movements, and by the time you had come down from it, Joel was on the verge of it.

"shit-I'm coming" he groaned "Where do you want it?"

 "inside" you whispered without missing a beat

"I c-can't honey-"

"please Joel" you whimpered, starting to get overstimulated "Please fill me up, Joel"

And with that simple sentence, he was done for.

"fuck-shit. shitshitshitshit" That's all he managed to spit out, as ropes of his come filled you up to the brim, just like you wanted.

You took a moment to compose yourself, inhaling his scent one more time, before you slowly got off of him.

And as you did, the moment it was all done, a strange sensation overtook you.

you'd thought that this was all you wanted, that this was gonna make you feel better, and yet... yet you couldn't help but feel like a piece of you was missing, you couldn't help but feel emptier than you were to begin with.

As you watched him hurry to put his boxers back on, you couldn't help but think that, once again, you had managed to fuck everything up.

[erwinsvow]

you fiddle with the r necklace, rubbing it between your fingers like you always do deep in thought. you should have gotten rid of the necklace the day the two of you broke up, but a hopelessly sad and defiant part of you refused to take it off. it’d been long enough now that it was getting to the point of weird rather than just pathetic. at least, your friends thought so, and they never hesitated to let you know. after all, there was no one that hated your boyfriend more than them.

“you’re doing it again,” kiara comments, staring at your hand mid-motion, the pendant slipping from your grip as you drop it immediately. 

“doing what?” you question innocently, face burning. 

“i still think it’s creepy that he wanted you to wear a necklace with his initial. it’s like a brand. it’s dehumanizing.” 

“or, like, a dog collar,” jj says, holding back a laugh. you look up at them with a blank expression, because you really don’t have any retort. maybe it was rafe’s brand on you, maybe your friends are right. but you think, chest tight, that you didn’t mind being branded by him.

you change the topic because you’ll start crying if you think about it too long—of course they don’t mind, they encourage you to talk about anything but rafe these days. if only it was that easy to get your mind off of him.

rafe doesn’t make it easy on you either. what was supposed to be an amenable break-up had transformed and twisted into something completely different—something that your friends would kill you if they found out about. the first few weeks had been normal, like any other break-up, you sobbed on john b’s shoulder, accepted tissues from pope and listened to jj talk badly about rafe for as long as you could listen. you spent hours with kiara and sarah exploring all the reasons why it was so not meant to be, not when you and rafe were night and day, not when he was still dealing and doing coke. and then, just like other break-ups, the time came to put all of rafe’s shirts and the teddy bears he’d bought you and the photos on your wall into a box and get rid of it all.

you think you’re doing a good thing, by bringing rafe his shirts back instead of burning them like jj suggested. you knock on the door to tannyhill, making sure you spot his truck parked outside—even though one glance at the car where you’d lost your virginity to rafe makes your face burn up. you feel flushed and clammy when rafe opens the door, and he looks at you like nothing’s happened since he saw you last, and the rest of your resolve caves almost immediately. 

“hey, kid.”

“hi,” you chirp, pulling your eyes away from rafe’s before he convinces you to do something you’ll regret. “i brought your clothes back. i had more than i realized.” you offer him the box, but he doesn’t extend his arms.

“nah, you can keep them. you’ll be needin’ them anyways.”

“what?”

“how long d’you think we’re gonna stay broken up for? huh? another week? two?”

“rafe, i-”

“it’s okay, kid, just keep them.”

“no, i think you should take them-”

“why don’t you come upstairs and put them away f’me? hm?”

the first time it happens, you tell yourself it was a one-time mistake, that could happen to anyone. you’re wrapped up in rafe’s sheets, naked and sweaty, trying your hardest to catch your breath while you stare at the muscles of rafe’s back while he pulls up his laptop and finishes whatever he was working on. your phone keeps going off, probably your friends wondering why you’re so late to dinner. you pray to god kiara doesn’t check your location.

“you gonna get that?” rafe asks, turning back to look at you. you just look at him, delirious and still incredibly sad, wondering if this is the last time you’ll ever be in rafe’s bed again. 

“no, they’re just gonna ask me where i am.”

“still lettin’ them control how you really feel? gotta work on that, baby.” you feel any anger bubbling up at the fact that rafe still thinks you let your friends decide your feelings for you—a key point you had argued during the break-up—melt away at the sound of the nickname.

“they don’t like how much i like you.” you say it kind of sadly, like things could be different, like the two of you could have made it work in another world. you fiddle with your necklace, before unclasping it and letting it drop onto rafe’s palm. “i should go now.” 

it feels much too intense, like the third-act breakup in the cheesy books you read. you want rafe to fight for you, you want your friends to like him, but that means he has to change, and as much as it pains you to admit it, you don’t want any part of him to change. you want your friends to change their minds, but they won’t, and you want rafe to care that your friends don’t like him, but he doesn’t.

you try to move but he manhandles you into place, a hand on your wrist tugging you back into bed. he pushes your hair aside, clasping the necklace back on, and then rafe presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

“don’t ever take this off again, got it?”

you nod. rafe sends you to the chateau in one of his shirts and you pray to god no one notices that or your necklace is still in its usual place.

the next time it happens, you can’t even try to argue that it was an accident. you knew rafe wouldn’t make this easy for you, but you didn’t think he could make it so impossibly difficult. his texts light up your phone, only a few feet away from pope and john on the couch, watching the movie but only half paying attention.

R: where are you tonight

R: you coming here or do i need to come get you?

your heart settles into your stomach, being attacked by the wings of the butterflies that have made their home there. rafe talks to you like the two of you are still dating, and your mind slips into an easy, soft place where that is still your reality. 

“what kinda porn are you lookin’ at right now?” jj asks, and you break out of your fantasy.

“what?” you blubber out, before john b interrupts.

“jj, stop making everything about porn.”

“i’ve seen that look before, man, it’s the exact face pope makes when he found somethin’ fun and fresh. so what’s your type, i mean, you can share with the class-”

after slapping jj on the back of the head and reassuring everyone that there was no porn on your phone—only the promise of something better waiting for you, but they don’t need to know that—you head out, replying to rafe quickly.

coming now. 

this time, you can’t lie and act surprised that you’ve ended up here again. rafe turns on his tv to watch the evening news, and it’s so silly you almost want to laugh, but you stay silent, watching him watch the news and taking a sip of the water he got for you. 

you turn your head to place the cup on his nightstand, and see your lip balm perched next to his lamp.

“i’ve been looking for this,” you say, picking it up and turning to rafe. 

“yeah, you left it here.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“‘cause i knew you’d be back.”

you think that’s enough to be your reality check. it’s not.

a week later, you accompany your friends to the bonfire. you play with your necklace while they fill up plastic cups with beer from the keg.

“you’re never gonna get over him if you keep wearing things he got you,” kiara says, taking a sip from her cup. you know she’s only trying to help you, that she’s only worried about you. you wish they would stop bringing him up.

“i’m not ready to take it off.”

“that’s not healthy. in fact, that’s so unhealthy that-”

“i said i’m not ready. can we drop it?”

“why not?” she asks, and you feel tears start to build along your eyes. “oh jeez, speak of the devil.” you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder, turning to face rafe.

“can i have a minute?” he says, looking at kie.

“no. you can’t have any,” comes her reply, until you look back. 

“kie, i’ll be right back.” 

you and rafe walk, ignoring the shout of your friend to not go, to an empty spot by the fire. 

“didn’t think you’d come here,” rafe says, quietly. you look at your shoes to avoid looking into his eyes.

“they dragged me along… trying to make me meet someone new.”

“yeah? is it working?” 

“i just told my best friend i’m not ready to take your necklace off, so, what’d you think-” rafe stops you, his hand coming up to lift your chin to make you meet his eyes finally. he presses his lip to yours—it feels different than the hundreds of times he’s kissed you before. your eyes flutter shut, a sole tear spilling down your cheek. 

you wonder if everyone’s looking. you decide you don’t really care.

“i told ya not to take that necklace off.”

“i listened, rafe,” you breathe softly.

“i know,” he says, kissing you again and then pulling away. “you’re a good girl. you always listen. i’m done with this crap, and i don’t care what your idiot friends say. not staying away from you. no one can make me, not even you.”

“i don’t want you to stay away.” rafe takes the pendant with his initial into his fingers, playing with it before letting it fall against your chest.

“good. now go tell them you’re coming home with me and let’s get outta here.”

[denileisariver]

pairing: batman aka bruce wayne x f!reader

summary: you move into wayne manor, but not everything is as it seems. pt.2

warnings: smut, some non-con/dub-con but not really, doggystyle!, creampies ♡, mentioned babytrapper!bruce but nothing happens (or does it 🫣?), some anal play but also not really, unprotected sex, descriptions of male and female genitalia, bruce is not the best father unfortunately, age gaps, uses of the word(s) 'baby' and 'daddy' like once or twice, non-consensual recording?, reader is described as dating girls in the past.

a/n: i guess this is a small continuation. i'll still be tagging as yandere due to some slightly darker undertones kinda. i'm not sure how i feel about this one but oh well :).

bruce never believed that he was a good man.

he could care less for all the praise he received throughout the years. fundraisers and charities, his image as a loving adoptive dad who took in struggling and orphaned children, or as batman. deep down, he knew he was selfish.

everything he did, he took too far. whether it was to fulfill a pipedream he realistically knew would never come true at the expense of others. or even with love, using the people he cared for the most just so he could gain something out of it. he considered himself lucky that all the little vigilantes he collected over the years stayed. and he was even happier you decided to stay as well.

bruce knew fear like the back of his hand. he could easily recognize it in your eyes whenever your eyes met his. whether it was subconscious or not, something in you knew that you should be cautious around him, and for good reason.

he couldn't quite pinpoint when his infatuation with you started. the only thing he knew was that it had crept up on him slowly, and it had been far too late until he realized its claws were sunk deep and he wanted you wrapped around his finger.

his mind would drift off sometimes, wondering if it's because of how closely he's been able to keep tabs on you over the past couple of years. you were strong and independent, more than able to take care of yourself, and others if given the opportunity. he admired that you were bold and selfless, driven. and he wanted to control that.

he stood by on the sidelines for far too long, watching you be strung along like an afterthought. he hated seeing your pathetic dates that always turned out horribly, pitiful men who only wanted one thing from you and girls that led you on because they were 'experimenting'. he hated the sad puppy look in your eyes whenever you hung around dick, before he invited you into his family, even if it was unintentional.

whether you believed it or not, bruce truly wanted what he thought was best for you. and if that meant keeping you under his surveillance, where you were at arms length 24/7, then so be it.

bruce wanted to train you how to be obedient for him. you were already establishing your own place in his household, practically marking your territory there, and he enjoyed every bit of it. for the most part, at least. there were still some challenges he needed to overcome, but you'd always been a good girl for him. that much he knew.

you tried to be grateful for him as much as possible.

even after his creepy behavior and even weirder training, you wanted to trust him. it felt wrong not to. everyone had been kind and did more for you than anyone else in your life had, and bruce set the foundation for all of it. you'd finally got a taste of being part of his family like you always wanted, and you weren't willing to let it go just because of eccentric assumptions and silly feelings.

you did find all of it a bit extreme, though. the excessive amount of gifts, the kids were attentive as ever, and alfred practically babied you. but it was normal. completely normal. at least that's what you chalked it up to, living under the roof of a well renowned billionaire, and you weren't about to complain about it either.

being around all the other wards put you at ease. regardless if you truly saw them as found family or not, you considered them your best friends. whether it was helping alfred around the manor as much as possible, burning pastries in the kitchen with the girls, playing video games with jason (which grew to be one of your favorite pastimes), you found yourself letting your guard down. like you could finally breathe and be safe in your own home, which was basically never while you were still surviving on your own back in gotham.

speaking of jason, you think maybe you are beginning to like the boy. sure, he had always been attractive, but you never actually got to interact with him longer than a short conversation here and there before dick decided to butt in. he had always been protective of you like that. you figured whatever you felt for jason might've been weird at first, but considering tim and stephanie dated for a little while, and they were still here, that it was okay.

you tried to subtly spend more time around jason. sitting close by during dinner or while catching a flick, offering to be by his side during patrol. maybe you were a bit more obvious than you would've liked, but jason took it well, much to bruce's disdain. the boy started to talk to you more often, more lively around you than ever, staring at you from across the room, making physical contact. and you greedily accepted it.

and of course dick would be the first to pester at you about it. he'd snuck up from behind, startling you when you were too engrossed in a romance book that you'd discovered while exploring the ginormous library.

"so you and jason are a thing now?"

the sound of his sudden voice makes your body jolt, damn near dropping the precious book you were reading that probably cost more than your entire life. the only people in this world that could make you flustered the way you are now are all living underneath the same goddamn roof, and you've successfully trapped yourself in it, willingly.

"what're you talking about?" the blank look on dick's face makes you cringe. in all your years of friendship, the two of you never really fought. the thought that he'd be mad about you being with jason was almost enough to make your heart sink. but the truth was, you weren't really actually with him anyway. things were just.. different.

all of his rigorous training with bruce had apparently worked off, because almost right on cue, dick notices how anxious you are right now. he shifts his body language to a more lighthearted demeanor, no longer as stiff. his voice is soft. "listen, i don't care, kind of, but.. just be careful." the way he says it almost makes you feel better, like he cares, and of course he does, but—

"what's that supposed to mean?"

your defensiveness is no surprise to dick. the look on his face let's you know he expects it, and you almost hate yourself for being so predictable.

"i don't want you to get hurt, that's all i'm saying." he tries to reassure, but it does nothing but the opposite. hurt you? you never expected much to come out of your tiny fondness for jason, and even if it did, you knew better than to think it'd be something that'll last forever. "I won't get hurt."

you say it like it's a sure thing. there's this unreadable look in dick's eyes. something that you don't think you've ever seen before, and it almost scares you. like he knows something you don't, but you can't tell what the hell it is. he curtly nods, forcing back that charming smile to his face, but you're no idiot, especially when it comes to him.

"i don't doubt it." and with that, he's gone.

☆☆☆☆☆

it's been a couple of days since your little talk with dick. well, more of a warning than anything, so that's what you take it as. you started being more mindful, not just around jason but everyone. more observant and aware of how you interacted with them. and after a while, you deduced that whatever dick was thinking is just part of his overprotective nature, both as a brother and as a friend. that he'd grow accustomed to you and jason just like everyone else was.

that was up until you noticed your possessions were starting to go missing. it started with just panties, then a bra or two, eventually your sweaters or jewelry. at first, you thought you were going crazy, just misplacing and losing things, but it was happening way too often. bruce spoiled you enough so that everything was replaceable, but still. was dick right?

was jason some sort of pervert or stalker?

well, you think all of them had the stalking part down, getting it from bruce, but you aren't completely oblivious to the fact that jason harbored reciprocated feelings for you. but to go as far as stealing your stuff? even dirty panties? there's no way. it couldn't be. if it was true, you were daring enough to confront him about it. you'd just have to wait for the right time to do it, but that proved more than difficult. there seemed to never be a perfect moment.

bruce had been more rough than before during sparring. and honestly, you didn't mind. at first, it scared you. but with the emotional turmoil you were suddenly experiencing, you almost liked it. those damn hands in your hair, a tight headlock cause his bicep was wrapped around your neck, a muscular thigh between your legs. it felt better than you would ever admit, and you found yourself almost looking forward to it. it was just because you needed some stress relief, right?

bruce intimidated you more than anyone you've ever met, but that didn't stop you from checking him out occasionally. the older man was more than attractive, and no one could deny that, not even you, regardless if you thought he was a bit peculiar.

if you hadn't been so enamored in your thoughts, trying to convince yourself that you weren't just another perv, maybe you would've felt bruce's growing hard-on accidentally poke your ass. or that he's held you in this same position for too long, admiring how you looked bent over for him like this and wanting nothing more but to make you take him right then and there. but he was upset with you.

you were getting too close to jason. on a fatherly note, he knows he should be happy. jason always had trouble around others, and he was probably just another reason for you to stay. but a larger part of him wanted to spank your ass over his knee, gag your tiny mouth on his cock in front of everyone so they knew who you belonged to.

he has to be more careful. he'd barely gotten ahold of you, and if he pushed too much, he'd run the risk of you trying to escape. but he couldn't bear to just stand by and watch while you and jason tried to pursue a relationship. no.. that couldn't happen. jason would have a knife at his throat if he caught bruce just now, that he'd hate him even more if he found out that the girl he was crushing on was being lusted on by his father figure.

but bruce could live with that.

that's why he doesn't say anything when he gently bounces the leg that's slotted between your thighs, your clit grazing against him through the thin fabric of your workout shorts. he only gauges your reaction to it, waiting, expecting you to fight back but you don't. the movement was soft enough for you not to notice it at first, but when the rubbing gets repetitive and you finally realize just how long you've been in such a comprising position for him, a flood of both excitement and anxiety goes straight to your core.

it almost feels like a betrayal to jason, even if you owed him nothing. you couldn't even remember the last time you hooked up with somebody, and it was actually good. you'd been stuck with making yourself cum, and that got old very quickly. on one hand, doing this with bruce could potentially ruin your relationship with his other wards if you were caught, and on the other hand, you were horny enough to not be thinking straight. even if bruce was a weird fuck that you didn't trust fully.

you manage to let out strained whimpers, hoping to appeal to bruce so he'd let you go. the arch of your back had become strenuous, but even then, you found yourself yearning for more. if this is what he wanted, you couldn't bring yourself to stop him. your hips move on their own accord, rutting and pressing the plush lips of your cunt along the thick muscle, face contorting slightly in pleasure whenever your sensitive bud received the attention it craved so much.

he allowed you to hump his leg like an animal in heat, his hips jutting out forward and now fully pressing a heavy cock against your ass, the clothed tip resting by the lower half of your back. whether you fully wanted this or not, it didn't really matter to bruce. the arm that was wrapped around your neck moves down, then squeezing a handful of one of your tits, appreciating its weight and how squishy it was in his grasp.

the differences in sizes made your body appear tinier than it really was, and bruce thought that was cute too. his other free hand wrapping around your body so he could feel both of your pillowy breasts in his hands, his groping making you squirm. even if you encouraged this more than you probably should've, you wonder if this is moving way too fast. he's your best friends dad for christ sake. jason's dad. (as much as he liked to deny it). and you were already living in his mansion.

all while these thoughts swirl through your head, bruce is slipping his hands beneath your shirt and moving the cups of your bra out the way, twisting and pinching at your pert nipples. his teeth find your neck, biting, a tongue licking the sensitive skin. you felt helpless to how quick and overwhelming all of it is. it doesn't take long for it to feel like his presence and touch is suffocating you, and bruce is even more greedy than you are.

"can i touch you baby?" the grufness of his voice sends chills down your spine.

you don't know why he even asks. you stupidly nod your head in agreement, even though rough pads of his fingers are already eagerly shoving themselves into your shorts and cupping your tiny pussy through cotton panties. he hums in content, noting the warmth of it and the gentle rhythmic pulses. your heart races, resisting the urge to hump his hand just like you were on his thigh.

much to your disappointment, he slips his hand out of your shorts, whining at the loss of contact. that is up until your bottoms are being pushed down your legs, and suddenly, you're conscious of how anyone could walk in on the two of you. and you still can't bring yourself to protest.

bruce bends you over once more, your face down and ass up for him. his cock aches in its confines, throbbing and begging to be released, but he holds it off. he stares at your exposed cunt, making you feel subconscious for a bit. your lips are soft and glistening, tiny clit shyly hiding beneath the hood. his thumbs spread your cheeks a bit, your slick holes on display for him.

your arousal drips down, dripping a bit onto the sparring mat in the process. your openings wink at him a bit with small flutters, and bruce leans down slightly, using his own spit to lube up your asshole and rim it with his thumb, even if he wasn't going to use it yet.

your body jolts, yelping a bit in surprise. no one had ever touched you there, and you certainly weren't expecting it just now. your hands move to try and cover yourself. "wait— i've never—"

bruce interrupts you with low shushes, kneading the soft flesh of your asscheek in his hand. he decides to feel your clit instead, his thumb working its way down your slit and easily finding the tiny nub. the constant and steady movement ties a knot in your tummy, instinctively pushing your cunt against his hand, soft moans emitting from you. fuck, he was good at this.

you were no stranger to playboy bruce wayne. ever since you've met him, he always had a litter of lovers that followed him around like lost pets, people that he'd never commit to always at his beck and call. you think you might understand why, now. he was a provider, strong, handsome. and even though you hadn't felt his cock inside you yet, you feared you might not ever want another one again after this.

your pussy fluttered desperately, needing something inside you, an impending orgasm building up but frustration was still there. one of his long, thick fingers offers you grace, gently pushing into your cunt. it was almost comical how easily he got you to gush and make a mess of his hand, the digit rubbing and pushing at that sensitive and spongey spot deep inside of you.

"fuck!— bruce—" you cried out, back arching even further, hair sticking against your forehead due to your sweaty state. you pant quickly, trying to regain composure, but your heart only beats more wildly, like a tiny prey animal, the sound of bruce's clothes being removed filling your ears.

you twist your body and head a bit so you could look at him, the sight making your mouth fall open slightly, practically drooling while you oggled him. regardless of his age, the man before you was built like a damn sculpture. hand-crafted to perfection. he was still toned in all the right places after all these years, even if his body had grown softer during his time as a father. coarse hair that led down to a fat cock that was standing up at full attention.

you whimper a bit, unsure if you were really prepared for this. you assume that whatever this is will have an unspoken agreement to be kept secret, at least you hope so. bruce was sometimes unpredictable, but if dick or even jason found out, you'd imagine you and bruce would be killed.

"don't worry baby," bruce grunts softly, as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. the head of his cock teases your entrance, before moving his hips in a mimick motion of thrusting into you, fucking himself in between your thighs and cunt. the tip of his cock smears pre-cum along your stomach, a thick vein protruding from the shaft, and you worry your guts are about to be rearranged, not knowing if you'll be able to walk without a limp tomorrow.

you haven't been able to catch a good look at his cock yet, but you're sure he's gonna have the biggest dick you've ever had. it's proven to you quickly, the air being knocked out of your lungs when he fully sheaths himself inside, bottoming out without warning.

bruce grins above you, his hand resting on your lower back, just above your butt so he could watch the delicious jiggle of your ass bouncing on his cock. he keeps a slow pace at first. judging by your reaction, he knows the stretch hurts you a bit. your baby pussy was so taut around the meaty length, lips struggling to open up for him, even after playing with it.

soft ah ah ahs spill from you, body quivering ever so slightly. it would've been unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't watching you as closely as bruce was. you wanted to take it. you wanted to be good for him. you didn't want to disappoint him. you needed to take his cock like a big girl, even if you didn't fully understand why you wished to please him so much. maybe it's just cause you were sick of feeling like a child in front of him. like you had something to prove even if it wasn't needed. he'd adore you either way, but you didn't know it yet.

bruce was surprised you even succumbed to him as easily as you did, an adorable determination in your eyes, he presumes for a number of reasons. you were deprived just as much as him, which sometimes led to some questionable decisions. which meant he also knew you'd regret this later. but those were problems for another time.

one of his hands finds your wrists, keeping your arms pinned behind your back. bruce imagines the dainty fingers struggling to wrap around his thick girth, how pretty you would look with a cock fucking down your throat. he had fantasized about this happening for too long.

he fucks you with consistent movements, cherishing this moment in case he wouldn't be able to get it back. you were a kind girl. he knew all about the conflicted feelings that were settled deep in your heart because he felt them too. the teary look in your eyes, not knowing if you wanted him to stop or fuck you even harder, but he'd do the latter. with or without your permission.

bruce snaps his hips with more ferocity, keeping his focus on the recoil of your ass, his cock getting getting increasingly wet with creamy white slick, a ring of cum forming at the base of his length. you shudder a bit, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, and you shift your hips to fuck him back, needily chasing your own orgasm.

"that's it— use that little pussy on daddy," bruce hisses through his teeth, his nails digging into your supple flesh, all the filthy sounds that you and that sweet pussy made had his cock pulsing.

you could barely register a word he said, completely forgetting about anything other than the persistent pounding your weeping cunt was receiving. tears prickle your eyes, spit spilling out of your mouth. you looked a damn mess, barely coherent other than the small chanting of 'daddy' just like a prayer, mindlessly accepting the title.

this was something that bruce could get used to. everything about you was just so damn perfect. he shamelessly hoped that you were ovulating, wishing to fill your womb with his seed and make your belly full and round with his child, then you'd have no reason to leave. even if you tried, he wouldn't allow it.

your toes flex and curl, legs trembling from a wave of ecstasy. your poor cunt spasms uncontrollably around his cock, a strangled but sweet moan forced out of you while you rode out your climax. bruce stuffed you full, plugging himself deep inside of you. he stayed there for a moment before fucking you with slower but unmerciful strokes, skin slapping against you with a force that made your breasts bounce harshly.

your pussy squelches, juices leaking all over him. you struggle to crawl away from him cause of the overstimulation, aching and already sore due to the ceaseless strech. but he only pulls you back, growling at your disobedience, swatting your ass with a calloused hand. bruce cums with a raspy groan, a bruising grip on your hips, the sticky substance painting your velvety walls.

the mat below you is drenched in a mixture of yours and bruce's fluids, sure to leave a stain unless poor alfred was stuck cleaning your mess, and you had a feeling bruce wouldn't do it. you'd be willing to clean it yourself to save the embarrassment, but your weak limbs had other plans.

you think he's finished with you until you're hoisted up, forcibly turned around so bruce could see the rest of your naked body. he wastes no time to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak. he wasn't going to allow you to leave here without leaving his mark on you, claiming you by filling up and covering your chest with his lovebites.

he could care less if anyone had seen how effortlessly he managed to corrupt you. all it took was to turn you into his perfect little cocksleeve. it'd be damn near impossible to avoid him after this. even if he wasn't around, the memory would be forever ingrained into your mind, and you wouldn't be able to look at dick or jason or any of the other wards without the reminder that you fucked their father.

you gently try to push at bruce's broad shoulders, the effort not doing much other than making him bite down on your tit, then moving along to the other. you guess the post-nut clarity had hit you, and a tinge of guilt welled up in your chest.

your brows furrow a bit in a feeling of discomfort when bruce glides two fingers through your folds, then gently massaging the swollen button above them. but your heartbeat picks up again, cunt clearly working with a mind of its own.

strained whimpers spill like honey from your lips, now finally shaking your head and attempting to push yourself away in defense when it's what you should've been doing since the beginning. bruce let's you break away from him though, his lips pulling off of you with a pop.

stern eyes meet your lustful but ashamed gaze, a state of displeasure evident on bruce's face. it's something that worries you, unsure of what that might entail. you don't want to make him angry, and you also don't think you're ready to leave the manor just yet, but you also don't know if you can act indifferent around bruce and the others.

maybe if he wasn't around as often, things would be easier, and you'd be able to pretend like this wasn't a mistake. your throat bobs, swallowing your anxiousness, wanting to reevaluate yourself, preferably alone.

you kneel there and wait, half expecting bruce to just fix himself up and leave without much regard for you, because you assumed that's the type of man he would be after fucking someone, but he doesn't. instead, he let's out a small disgruntled noise, collecting your panties and shorts that he had pulled off of you earlier.

his cum is still seeping out of you, a thick load slow to ooze out of you when bruce had emptied his balls inside your abused pussy. he doesn't ask if you want help or if you wanted to be cleaned up, simply raising the fabric up your legs and thighs till the most precious parts of you were covered again. the cotton becomes damp, your wet core coating them with the evidence of yours and bruce's sex.

he shortly cups the tiny cunt in his large hand, gently swiping his thumb over your mound. a small sigh leaves his lips, almost as if he was sad to be leaving the warmth and tightness of it so soon. you're not sure if you're comfortable with how easily he assumed he should have access to your body, but you guess it's also partly your fault, so you allow it for now.

his lips find yours, surprisingly gentle and loving, a stark contrast to how hard he was pistoning his dick inside your belly. but it's pleasant, so you welcome that also. bruce's tongue is smooth and soft, gliding along yours for a moment before he breaks away, a hazy look in his eyes. something you don't think you've ever seen there before, and you swear he's so dreamy to look at.

it's when you remember he's still undressed, eyes shifting below between your bodies and honing in on the massive cock that bruce endowed. even if it was gradually getting softer, he was still semi-hard, his blood pumping to that area just in case he needed to go another round. he'd be more than willing to stuff that tiny hole for you again, and he wished you'd ask him to, but you don't.

but maybe you will someday.

he let's you stare at his cock unabashedly, his breathing heavy and shaky. he slowly moved his hand, gently jerking the long length since you were gawking at him. you let out a cute squeak, suddenly remembering you were about to leave.

bruce doesn't seem to care that it's getting late, or that the rest of the family would be heading down to the cave sooner or later, his focus purely on what was in front of him. but he can see the look of worry written all over you, and it deters him. he stands up to his full height, your eyes widening slightly, his cock dangled in front of you shamelessly, and a small smirk forms on his face.

he has to refrain from grabbing your hair and prodding his dick between those pretty lips of yours. he moves to tug his joggers back on, his cock slapping a bit against his thigh from the movement. you never break eye contact, and neither does he, your thoughts plagued by bewilderment and amorosity.

you stumble over yourself while picking yourself up off the ground, barely reaching bruce's shoulders. you have to tilt your head up just to look at him without straining your eyes, uncertain of what to say or how your relationship with him will be like after this. it's distressing for you, but you're even more concerned with how you're gonna be able to look dick or jason in the eyes again afterwards.

you push away your apprehensiveness, chewing on your bottom lip so you can find the right words. "this— this never happened," you stutter out, your voice coming out more frail than you intended.

bruces lips curl a bit in dismay, his jaw clenching. out of everything he wanted to hear you say, that was certainly not at the top of his list. his hands ball into a fist, his nerves tensing up. he would never think about hurting you. not physically, at least. but you didn't know that. bruce scoffs lightly, almost amused that you actually thought he'd let you off that easily.

you scramble a bit, trying to get your point out before he can get a word in. "if anyone found out–"

"who i fuck is my business only," he cuts you off, already knowing what you'll say next. it's something he's thought over plenty times already. dick had been suprisingly compliant with bruce thus far, so he wasn't an issue according to bruce, and it was easy to get to him anyway. but he didn't foresee his other sons feelings coming into play, or yours. "and you're not an innocent little girl either, so don't act like one."

shit. you were practically digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole since you moved here. you stare up at him with pleading eyes, and he can't help but soften up a bit. if you were more smart, none of this would've ever happened. how the hell are you gonna be pining after jason now? and bruce.. he seemed less than pleased at the moment. and your gut told you that he wouldn't be letting this go anytime soon.

but he was at heart, a family man. everything he did was out of love, and a desire to protect others so they didn't have to experience the pain he felt when he lost the people most important to him. at least that's what you liked to believe. after jason's passing, they worked so hard to rebuild their relationship, and the trust between them had slowly begun to resemble what it used to be, even if there were some slight changes.

there was no way in your mind that bruce would destroy all of that just for you. you were just some girl, who occasionally hung around his son, but that didn't mean you held as much value in his life than his adopted children. he wouldn't go as far as breaking down his own home, again, just for you, would he?

"if this ever happened," you gesture between the two of you, shaking your head, already gathering how he must've felt about this based off his demeanor. you were no master detective like he was, but being able to easily read body language, sensing people's energies, and intuition, you were good at. "it would ruin everything."

"we're not going to argue about this." he rebutted, taking on a more stern tone, his voice raising above yours. like he was already making the decision for the both of you, and you weren't having that. you want to say more till the sound of footsteps catch your attention, a familiar voice resonating from the stairwell.

"master bruce, is everything alright?" you silently thank whatever higher power that it's alfred instead of someone else. alfred has had his fair share of catching bruce in.. less than favorable circumstances. but the look of surprise on his face isn't something you can miss, even if it's only there for a split second. you'd been caught.

alfred's eyes wander down to the floor below you that's still wet with juices, registering what it was quickly. his eyes meet yours for a moment, smiling at you weakly, then taking a step back from you and bruce. "sorry for the interruption, sir." the older man says formally, turning on his heel to leave, but you do the same before he can.

"actually, i was just leaving." you glance at bruce whose eyes haven't left yours since even before alfred entered the cave. and then you were back to feeling small and helpless around him, back to square one. you sigh and roll your eyes at his poker-face, trying to rush out the cave to escape the awkward interaction.

alfred's eyes follow you with worry, only turning to bruce with a vexed expression once you're gone, shaking his head in disappointment. bruce stared at him blankly, already knowing he was about to get a scolding. "i'm a grown man—"

"precisely." alfred cuts him off, sass in his voice. "she's over a decade younger than you, your sons friend. you have no right to take advantage of her." he argued, pointing a finger in bruce's face.

"she can make her own decisions." bruce seethes, unwilling to hear him out. he hates himself for knowing deep down the butler was right, but he didn't force you to do anything. not really. he knew this wouldn't be without repercussions, but alfred wouldn't say anything either to avoid suspicion.

everything would blow up in bruce's face, and maybe he'd take some accountability for once in his life, but alfred highly doubted that would happen anytime soon.

bruce faced away from him, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. he hated how easily you turned this around on him, turning into a little cock-drunk slut while having sex and then turning around to be angry at him, but it was something he'd seen coming. bruce huffs out a heavy breath, ignoring alfred's smoldering expression. "just get out, i'll clean this up."

"and what of the girl?" alfred asks, side-eyeing the man he raised. he cared more for your safety and how you felt rather than getting on bruce's nerves. "that isn't your concern. i'll take care of it."

alfred was less than enthusiastic about what that could possibly mean, or what any of this would result in. his heart ached for you and jason, even occasionally eavesdropping on the time you spent together, and the friendship had blossomed. maybe it could have turned into something more, but he isn't so sure now.

he turns back into his more reserved and neutral state, giving bruce one last judgmental stare before leaving him to tend to him thoughts. there was no point in trying to reason with him, so he wouldn't waste the energy. he'd only watch you like a hawk now. and bruce included.

with alfred away now, bruce makes quick work of his computer. he searches for the camera he placed in your room upon your arrival to the manor. there's a weird feeling in his chest that he can't quite explain, unsure of what it even was, seeing you curled up in bed, staring off into space. this was one of the rare times he wished he was meta, just so he could read your mind, pick your brain, even if just for a little bit.

you didn't seem sad or angry. just more confused by what he could tell. your eyes shifting like you were thinking up all the possibilities and outcomes of this, and he hated to see it wrack your head. he wished he could say something, or hold you, anything that would give you comfort, but it'd probably just have the opposite of his desired effect.

he had hoped to dwell on the fact that he finally got to penetrate that pretty little cunt of yours more without having to stress over issues that were nonexistent for now, but that wouldn't be the case. there was always something there to bite him in the ass and humble him if need be.

now he could only dream that whatever emotions you possessed for jason would alleviate. that he was an option you didn't know you had up until today. he hoped that he could make you his. and he would. just one day at a time.

he makes sure to save the footage that the security cameras all over the cave had captured, for later usage. he didn't think he'd get an experience like that again anytime soon, that he had just gotten lucky this one time.

but you were almost too eager to fuck him back. bruce wondered if maybe he had more of a chance than he thought, but he didn't know the extent of the loyalty you held for jason or him. or if you would want to avoid the situation completely and decide to leave the mansion. he was never a religious man, but if there was anything for him to pray for, it was you.

he didn't know what was worse. his eyes narrow, analyzing you for a quick moment before shutting off the computer, his head almost beginning to hurt due to the frustration.

just one day at a time.

[itsmarsss]

cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

(from the vault)

You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?

Words: 6,164

Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo

[. . .]

"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.

Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”

“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.

“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”

“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.

“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”

“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”

“Hell yeah!”

“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed. 

“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”

“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.

“And it’s not negotiable.”

“What your dad said.”

"Dad!”

“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”

“It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I tried," he shrugged.

“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”

“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”

“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”

“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”

Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick. 

“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”

“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”

“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”

Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”

“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”

“Crap.”

“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.

. . .

“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth. 

“Dude! Can you be quiet?”

“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.

Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Why do I need to be quiet?”

“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”

Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”

Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"

Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”

“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”

“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.

. . .

You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile. 

“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”

“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in. 

“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”

“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”

“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”

“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.

A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands. 

“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.

“No!”

“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.

“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”

“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”

“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.

“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Greg!” she yelled again.

“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs. 

“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”

“Who’s y/n?”

“Your babysitter!”

He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped.  “You’re not an old lady!"

“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"

“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."

"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.

You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.

“I’m so sorry about this."

“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."

“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"

“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.

. . .

You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.

“So. You’re not an old lady.”

“Nope.”

“Are you in high school?”

“Yes I am.”

“What grade are you in?"

“I’m a senior!”

“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”

“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”

“Lucky.”

“Why’s that?”

“He makes my life hell!”

“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“That’s just your job.”

“Trust me no girls like him.”

“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”

“Can we play video games?”

“Depends on what you have.”

“Apocalypse of The Damned?”

“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”

“You’re gonna like it I swear!”

“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”

“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.

. . .

“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point. 

“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”

“No! You can- you can trust us.”

“Is he annoying?”

He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”

“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”

You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name. 

hi mrs heffley

how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt

You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.

“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”

“Is it Rowley?”

“Sorry?”

“The friend, is it Rowley?”

“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”

“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”

“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”

“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”

“And Rodrick?”

“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Bye!” You hung up.

“So?”

“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”

Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.

“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’

“Uh yeah, I am.”

“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”

“Rowley!”

“What? You did!”

You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.

The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”

“Yeah!”

He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.

“He told me to bring it to him.”

“Why?"

"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."

"You don't have to do it.”

“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”

“Not with me here. I got you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Chill out.”

. . .

“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.

“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.

“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.

“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.

“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.

"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."

“Well who are you? And what are you doing… here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.

“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”

“What?”

“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”

“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.

“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”

“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.

“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”

“Zathura.”

“What the fuck is Zathura?”

“Don’t swear in front of them!”

“Sorry.”

Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?

You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

They both slowly nodded their head no. 

“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”

“We’re not five!"

“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.

. . .

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.

“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.

“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”

“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”

“No.”

Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.

Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.

The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.

“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.

“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”

He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”

“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side. 

What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.

“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.

“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.

“What?”

“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”

“Uh sure. Thanks.”

He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”

“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”

“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?

“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”

“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”

“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”

“What?”

“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”

“Yeah.”

“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”

“What?”

“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”

He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”

“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.

“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”

“Y/N.”

“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”

“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”

“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”

“Aren’t all brothers?”

“I’m not.”

“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”

“No I’m not!”

“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”

“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”

You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”

“You sound like a mom.”

“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.

"Right. He told you about that.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”

“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.

He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"

It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”

“I think you should let me start over.”

“But-”

“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.

“Okay, we ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes!”

“Both of you?”

“Yup.”

“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”

Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed. 

“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”

“Are you coming over tomorrow?”

“Why, did you actually like me?”

“Just a little.”

You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”

“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!” 

“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home. 

You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.

To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey. You not have anything to do?”

“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”

You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”

“You wanna watch something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well a real movie.”

“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”

“You actually do?”

“Yes!”

“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”

“Uh, an adult movie?”

“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious. 

“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”

You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.

“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”

“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”

“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.

“Well you can finish it if you want!”

“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”

“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”

“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”

“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”

“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”

“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”

“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.

“Are you sure?” His mom asked.

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.

“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”

“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”

You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.

You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”

“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”

“What?”

“So I can put the address on the GPS?”

“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said. 

“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.

“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”

“I know. I uh. I want to.”

“You wanna do the dishes?”

“I wanna help you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Fine.”

You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car. 

“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”

“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?

. . .

On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.

Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”

“Miss me, kid?”

“Are they going out again?”

“Apparently.”

“Mom, Y/N’s here!”

“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”

“No problem! Where are you off to today?”

“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”

“Oh he did?” That was strange.

“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”

“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”

“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”

“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”

“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other. 

“Yeah.”

"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult. 

“Okay bye everyone!”

Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.

“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.

“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool.”

“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.

“Sure.”

“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.

“What do you mean, assface?”

“Did you just offer to help with the food?”

“Yeah?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.

“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”

“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.

“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”

“Yes!” Greg yelled.

“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?” 

Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.

“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”

He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”

“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”

“For what?”

“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”

“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”

“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”

He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”

“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”

“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”

“Oh you think I’m cool?”

“Yeah.” 

The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.

“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”

“I’m not trying to impress you!”

“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”

“Well I was.”

“You were.”

“Did it work?”

“Why’d you want to impress me?”

“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”

“Huh. Maybe I do.”

“Cool.”

“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.

“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.

“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid. 

“Hey Rowley. You alright?”

“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”

“You did?”

“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”

“Cool! You should tell Greg!”

“Will you play with us?”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”

“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”

“Oh I don-”

“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”

“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”

“Deal.”

“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.

“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.

You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”

“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”

“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.

Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting. 

“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.

You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.

“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”

“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.

It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit. 

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”

You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it. 

“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”

“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”

“No.”

“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”

“Oh do they?”

“Don’t you?”

“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”

“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."

“Shame.”

“What?”

“I said let’s go.”

You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again. 

“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?

Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.

“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest. 

“Hey!”

You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.

“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.

“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.

“Nope, we know how that ends.”

“But we’ve changed!”

“It’s been less than a week!”

“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.

“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”

“With the little kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.

They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.

It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway. 

“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.

You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.

“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.

You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.

Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”

“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.

To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.

TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”

“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”

“What would be your style?”

“I don’t know. Hard rock.”

“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”

“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted. 

You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”

He stopped. “You do?”

“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”

“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”

“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”

“I’m well-informed.”

“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.

He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”

“Uh- huh.”

He gave in. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay”

“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”

“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”

“Uh. Bad boys?”

You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether they’re nice to us.”

“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”

“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”

“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.

“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”

“Uh. You? Obviously.”

Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.

“What?”

“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”

“Right.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Okay I ‘m lost.”

“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.

Okay, sudden much? “What?”

“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”

“Right. But as a… date?”

“Yeah.”

You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?

“Sure.”

“What?”

“I said sure.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door. 

“Y/N! How are we?”

You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”

“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist. 

“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”

“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”

Oh, right. Shit. He was.

“Yeah I uh, think so.”

With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.

“It’s called fashion, dad!”

Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”

“I guess.”

He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”

“Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“You’re not a rockstar.”

“Not yet."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.

"Just take it!” 

You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.

“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.” 

“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”

“You kinda are.”

“Shut up!”

You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”

He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”

“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”

His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”

Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”

“I think it is.”

“Fuck off!”

“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.

“Shut up.”

“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”

“Yeah but we’re not dating.”

“Not yet.”

“Shut up!”

“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”

“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”

“You can manage.”

“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”

“Deal.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

[. . .]

A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!

[occamstfs]

Wouldn't It Be Funny?

Back again with a longer military tf, Hope you enjoy! - Occam

Curtis and Joseph were bored out of their minds. After growing disenchanted with university life the two were well into a gap year and have been finding progressively less stimulating ways to waste away their time. Without assignments piling up and biweekly mandatory lectures they were firmly adrift as the days of the week blur together. Curtis continues scrolling on his phone while Joseph, phone ever-so-recently dead, tries to think of anything to do while it charges back up.

“Wait! I think my brother left a stash of beer last time he visited!” Curtis looks up and squints at his friend, “the best thing you think we could be doing right now is day drinking alcohol your brother left here months ago?” Joseph makes a motion inviting Curtis to produce a better idea which goes unanswered as he rolls his eyes and gets up to accompany Joseph on this ignoble quest.

Joseph leads Curtis to the hall closet where he had apparently thrown everything his brother, Nick, had left after staying over for a couple weeks. There is some deodorant and other toiletries scattered about although the floor, first and foremost however, what catches Curtis’ eye is an army uniform laying in a heap, in the corner of the closet. There is just something about it. Any time he starts to move his attention away from it another question pops into his mind requiring a deeper inspection of the jacket. He wonders how durable the uniform actually is? It looks as if it's never been worn though he knows that Nick has certainly done some training in it. He simply must have a closer look.

Before he could act on that, the jacket he so craved was chucked at him as Joseph found his bottled quarry underneath. “Score! It’s almost full too, we can have two each and rock, paper, scissors over the last one.” Joseph heads to the kitchen well on his way to some palatable lukewarm beers as he continues to chat busily at Curtis. His roommate doesn’t hear him however as the only thing on his mind is the scratchy jacket in his arms. 

He almost blushes looking down and feeling it in his arms, quite a bit heavier than he thought it would be. Surely he should toss it back with the rest of Nick’s things but it’s such a nice jacket. Quite a shame it's gone so long just sitting in their unworn. Maybe he’d just toss it on as a prank. Yeah Joseph would love that, seeing his friend in this massive jacket. His body acts quicker than his mind though, swiftly putting it on, pulling the hem down to straighten it out and pulling the sleeves up so you can just see his hands out the end.

Curtis hears his friend opening bottles in the kitchen and grins as he pictures the look on Joseph’s face as he sees him wearing this. He zips it up and struggles to get wrinkles out of the pockets before the grand reveal. No reason to not try and look legit. For it to really be funny it needs to look good. As soon as the thought that this would be funny enters his mind however he has a sharp headache and groans. No longer able to recall the incongruity of the situation as he steps out to see his friend.

Rounding the corner Curtis quickly starts what is meant to be a comedically poor salute but instead executes one with the precision of a machine. This only heightens the comedy of it all from where Joseph is standing however, halfway through a bottle of beer he chokes and spits up the beer all over the counter. He takes a moment to recover from this waste of beer before looking up once more and laughing so hard he can’t stand up straight.

Curtis in turn clenches his fist hard enough to pop a joint as he feels aggressively defensive. Why is his friend laughing at him. His back tenses with more effort than he has sustained in months, and more strength then he has wielded in a lifetime, as he cannot let this slight go unreciprocated. “What’s so funny, Kid.” Joseph looks up to see Curtis with an expression of rage more genuine than any emotion he had seen of his friend in months. It is immediately met with a flinch and a recoil as Joseph can’t bring himself to his friends’ burning gaze, “Jesus Curtis is everything alright? I thought you were doing a joke?”

A Joke? Curtis’ neck spasms breaking him out of his statuesque posture and upon rubbing a neck more muscular than he thought possible, he remembers, of course he was doing a joke! Why else would he be wearing Nick's Jacket! Smiling as he remembers how good it landed, he heads over to his friend, “Sweet you already opened a bottle for me! What’s the move now, did you want to game?” 

Joseph, shell-shocked by this return to spirits, assumes that the whole thing was now some shit joke, hands his friend a beer and heads to set up his PS5, “sure whatever dude, can you get the lights?” Which Curtis quickly does, not noticing his arms definitively stretching much further out of the jacket than they should. Waiting for his friend to finish the setup Curtis paces behind the couch, each step louder than the last as he grows less careful of his footing and he continues to ever so slightly grow into this jacket.

“Can you chill dude?” 

“Oh! Sorry did-”  

“And why are you still wearing my brother’s jacket!”

“Your brothers-” Curtis pauses to look at the name stitched onto his chest and is also shocked that he’s wearing Nick’s jacket though decidedly not for the same reason that Joseph assumed. “Woah sorry kid? I guess I was cold? Do you want me to throw it back in the closet?”

“Just take it off dude! And stop calling me kid,” puffing as he sits back on the couch and starts to play some game Curtis feels like he should recognize before taking off the jacket and heading to put it in the closet. He scratches at his chin as he tries to work out what feels so off right now. Hanging up Nick’s jacket, sure not to leave any creases, he remembers that he’ll probably need to shave soon so he doesn’t get a mark at the next inspection, his rougher hands feeling around his sharper jaw to check the damage.

Returning to the living room he trips over what he assumes is his own feet but is embarrassed to find; Ah! It’s his jacket! Thank god he let his discipline slack here and not back at base. He picks it up as Joseph turns around hearing the stumble and begins to hurry him back before instead asking, “did you do something with your hair?” To which Curtis tilts his head like a dog before Joseph shouts once more, “Dude! Are you wearing my brother’s socks!?”

“No of course not they would never fit.” He says looking down to see the same army green socks he always wears, not Nick’s. “Well my feet do seem larger than I thought they were.” continuing as he bends down to inspect his feet, Joseph scrambles over to do similarly, though neither notices as they slowly inch even larger across the carpet. Instead Joseph is immediately thrown for a loop hearing a loud groan from his friend as he stands back up. Now almost a head taller than he was before bending down.

“Fuck dude you’re so tall!” Joseph reaches up to put his hands on his friend’s shoulders. Curtis was always taller, a fact Joseph was already none too pleased with, but this was ridiculous. He almost has to strain and as he does finally get his arms up he immediately finds thick traps under his friend’s strained shirt, “Asshole! Have you been working out without me!?” 

“Of course not. When would I? Or who would I even-”

“I mean, with recruiters right?” Joseph offers forth without the thought even consciously entering his mind. It made no sense to him but it was true. Suddenly it's as if some form of static fills the minds of both the men, a warm static buzzes through Curtis’ mind and body as he starts to unconsciously put the newly reclaimed uniform back on himself. Joseph experiences something far harsher in his own mind, the static is unbearably cold and punishing. He claws at his head, no longer able to hold two ideas of who Curtis is in his mind. And it is clear which reality is prevailing as Curtis slides his thicker arms into the jacket, flexing to make sure his uniform is fitting just right.

As he begins to zip up the jacket his pecs begin to make themselves well more than apparent. His decidedly larger nipples poking out as the apparently nylon shirt hugs his defined chest and he struggles to get the zipper closed without being uncomfortably tight on his pecs before deciding to just leave it unzipped for now. “Why would I be working with recruiters, lil’ dude?” He looks confused at his friend, or his friend’s little brother? Before smirking and seizing the chance, “If anything you’re the one who should be working with them, gotta be bigger than that to join up with us!”  He puts a hand on Joseph’s head messing with his hair, jolting Joseph back to this new reality.

“Curtis! Do you not think something weird is happening here!”

“Oh? Did your brother not tell you I go by Curt?”

“My brother? Fuck dude! It’s his jacket! You’re wearing his jacket again!”

“Ah no lil’ dude this one here is mine, check it!”

Joseph looks at the clear name tag on his chest clear as day with Curt’s last name on it, not noticing as he seamlessly uses Curt’s apparent preferred name. Instead he stares at a symbol over the center of Curt’s chest clearly also different than the one on his brother’s uniform. Curt smirks as he points to it himself, “Impressed kid? I’m already a Private First Class, not too hard to outpace Nick though. I mean love the guy but come on! Show some hustle! We enlisted together for a reason dude!”

Suddenly Joseph feels that this statement was a bridge too far. He feels a pit in his chest as he feels he has just lost something greater than he can understand going to slap the exemplar of a man in front of him, “Snap out of it!” Before even nearing a strike however his wrist is snatched out of the air and held fast above his head. Curt stares daggers into Joseph at this sign of aggression, this challenge. His eyes darken as his stubble grows out even more. Joseph feels Curt’s grip grow even darker watching as the hair on his arms darkens spreading out from the sleeves. He brings in Nick’s little bro closer to his face as his warm, heaving breaths distract Joseph from the pain in his upheld wrist before he lets go and guffaws, “You’ve gotta be quicker than that kid if you want to enlist with us! Where is your brother anyway? ‘S why I came over right?”

Joseph is perplexed as Curt lets him go, also unsure as to why this mammoth of a man is in his living room. They are quickly assuaged as Curt gets a text from Nick. “Oh you need a ride did ya kid? No problem! He just wants you to bring over the jacket he left over here and we’ll head on out.” Curt struggles to shove his feet in his combat shoes before finding himself distracted as the shoes push out to fit his ever larger feet.

Joseph’s mind remains a battlefield but it is clear which side is soon to rout as he heads to the closet where he just wanted to grab some beer. Inside he finds not only his brother's jacket, expertly hung, but a second one that looks almost supernaturally comfortable. He pauses before reaching out, feeling an existential aversion to the jacket hanging in his closet. before there’s a brisk breeze through the house and he shivers. Joseph quickly grabs his brothers and slides into the latter jacket, a tad too big but the world around him feels much warmer now that he has it on.

After suiting up Joseph quickly rushes back to his brother’s friend, quite wanting to make a good impression on the private first class. As he rushes his footsteps quickly grow in volume as his tennis shoes thicken into pristine combat shoes and grow far wider as his feet race to keep up, filling their increased space. Barely avoiding tripping over his now massive feet, he sees that Curt is of course not a private at all but his Corporal, as he freezes and salutes. His biceps straining his sleeves as his stained white shirt begins to slowly make room for the soldier’s expanding muscle. “At ease Joe, Let’s go ahead and head on out.”

Curt leads Joe out to his lifted truck and has him get in before loading a few more things into the bed of his truck. There is a load of clearly dirty towels in the back seat as Curt clearly has an issue bringing in laundry after his workouts. Although he doesn’t make it a habit of driving recruits so it’s not usually an issue. Sitting in the musky cabin does immediately cause issues for Joe however, as he puts the seatbelt on he feels his body start to expand in every direction it can. His pecs push against both his shirt and the seatbelt. He pulls his tight shirt down, straining it to the brim as he feels a sudden itch in his crotch. His hand already down there and finding it impossible to bring his attention anywhere else he sees his bulge push out, almost doubling in size as he scratches his increasingly overgrown pubes. He struggles to cover the impossible to miss bulge forcing his brother’s jacket over his crotch, the added pressure and warmth overwhelms him as Curt notices from outside

Curt watches as his new recruit’s shoulders broaden and his jaw widens. He slightly shifts in his seat, almost gyrating, running the hand not shoved in his pants through his hair, leaving behind a respectable high and tight demanded of any respectable recruit.

Curt slowly opens the door giving the recruit the briefest of chances to at least perform decency. Immediately wrenching the hand from his pants to salute, shouting “Sir!” towards his Corporal, eyes growing deathly serious as he touches a visibly sweat covered hand to his brow. Curt’s eyes glint as he notices the action flung Nick’s jacket off and exposed Joe’s still expanding bulge and unzipped pants. The two feel a hunger starting to grow in their chests as Curt hops into the driver's seat. Adjusting his rear view as he juts up once more in height, his jacket making it apparent to all he is now a sergeant, Curt begins to drive off towards the base. 

Curt puts his hand on Joe’s inner thigh, overstimulating the private who roughly clenches his jaw trying to keep it together. He feels pre start to soak through Joe’s fatigues as he starts to rub his thigh. Grunting as he too feels a powerful stirring in his crotch, his cock forcing itself further down his leg. “Wouldn’t want to stop at my place first, would ya’ Joe?” Joe stares at the sergeant ahead of him with a lust deeper than the can understand, and a hunger to grow even larger. Curt chuckles, “gotta release some of this energy before we break the new to Nick anyway.” He turns his car and begins to race towards his apartment on the base. 

As the heat in the car begins to fog up the windows the two men could not remember anything besides who they were since joining the army. After an anything but quick fuck, they would get back to work on the base. Curt distracts himself as he commands his troops and Joe gets ready for his promotion ceremony, ready to rub it in his brother’s face that he was already going to be higher ranked. The two follow orders flawlessly as they always have, performing their duties with rigor. The only thing more present on their minds than dedication to their fellow soldiers being the excitement for the next time they are to fuck.