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pinkrelish · 1 year

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶What happens when Eddie tries to hide the less-than-fun side of being a single parent from you, and you discover Miss Mouse can't always save the day?✶

NSFW — angst with a happy ending, reader wears eddie's hoodie, comfort, kissing, 18+ overall for smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 11/20 [wc: 14.2k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 11: In the Beginning...

——Then——

In the beginning…

It was January 31st, 1988, and Wayne had come in to check on him again. And maybe he had a reason to when Eddie continued to stare at the pockmarked ceiling, dressed in the same clothes as three days prior, laying on the same bedsheets last washed by well-meaning, pre-aged, liver-spotted, wrinkled hands gnarled from factory work after being tanned on a big rig’s steering wheel for decades.

No music played from the stereo record player; The Doors still sat with the album art turned, stopped mid-spin. The paperback on the nightstand remained unfinished, its dog-eared page trapped as a placeholder from New Year’s Eve. Dust and cigarette ash clung to the room as if saving it in a time capsule of the morning he was arrested, and any movement would disturb the illusion.

“Eddie?” Wayne called out to him with his Free name; one that shouldn’t hold a stigma, because Eddie was a free man, wasn’t he? He was innocent. Even if they hadn’t caught the other guy yet. “You okay if I go?”

Tracing the bumpy lines of the most recent tattoo on his stomach, he answered, “Yeah, I’m fine,” and his uncle breathed as he usually did when he was wringing his mouth with indecision.

Wayne twisted the doorknob, uncertain. “If you’re sure.. And, uh, I’ll stop by the hardware store and pick up somethin’ for the spray paint on the trailer if the cookin’ oil trick doesn’t work, don’t you worry about it.”

Whatever rude thing someone wrote this time, Eddie hadn’t gone outside in days to know.

After a long silence, Wayne cleared his throat and gave a gruff, “I’ll see ya after work,” and left, as foretold by his rackety truck fading further into the night, and the deadness of winter taking over. A staleness of midnight inactivity in the crisp air invading the guitars and amps and magazines Eddie never touched anymore; the ceramic of his bedside lamp, the model car next to his lighter, the binders stacked on his desk with a pencil he hadn’t sharpened since it broke six weeks ago. He didn't get much relief from his routine of ignoring, shutting down, isolating, and desperately trying to get tears to form when he had none left to give, so he wept agape and dry, spiraling downward.

The phone rang.

He wasn’t going to answer—he hadn’t since December unless under obligation—but in case it was Wayne, he did.

“Hello?” The other end of the line was equally hesitant to answer his unrecognizable voice, gone hoarse from disuse. “Hello?” he repeated.

“Eddie?” A beat. “I guess I’ll get this over with. Look, uh, do you remember selling to a girl at Brad’s party a couple months back? Not the Halloween one,” they said, definitely a young woman’s voice, but with each word spoken she lost her fluttery nervous edge and replaced it with a direct tone, leaving no time for him to dawdle.

He hurled his mind into searching his memories before the ones made in the weeks prior, only grazing past the details which haunted him, and registering the question he was asked. “Uh, yeah, yeah I think so. Ah, Sarah? Something generic like that. Sold to her a couple times before. Why?”

Her severe silence loaded the chamber. His forthcoming nature pulled the trigger, never learning when to shut his mouth and keep information to himself. There was no telling who he was speaking to, or what happened to the girl he sold to, or why he was the subject of interest. His stomach clenched in knots at the whiff of gunpowder. He was too relaxed at the prospect of a normal conversation. He said too much. It was happening again. The police sirens would wail any minute now. Whatever happened to Sarah—or whoever—was bad, and he incriminated himself. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

But it was her next words that fired the shot. Rang in his ears. And he knew then, as the cold sweat took over his body and bile stung his throat quicker than his heart leapt black spots to his vision, life as he knew it was over.

“I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.”

————

In the beginning…

It was March 7th, 1988, and Eddie walked out.

It was better than listening to Wayne blame himself for not doing enough, or being involved enough, or whateverthefuck he was saying about failing Eddie, because soon those judgments would turn into nags about how Eddie’s irresponsibility got himself into this mess, and those arguments would become shouting matches about his lack of preparedness for raising a baby, and Eddie would end the fight with his fist through the hallway closet door, where his piece of shit father’s jacket swung on the hanger and fell to the floor.

Following the Munson name.

————

In the beginning…

It was April 29th, 1988, and Eddie left his motel room to drive forty-five minutes outside of Hawkins to sit across from a woman in a dimly lit restaurant with her hand laid atop her round belly, and his cold chicken alfredo. The cheese in his oval shaped dish had coagulated, but he wasn’t hungry anyway.

The entire time his mouth ran sentences, he kept his gaze focused on a crumb dirtying the white tablecloth as the candle flickered shadows through their untouched water glasses. Yet, his tone remained animated and optimistic, though a bit hollow. “—So, uh, with the money from workin’ at the gas station, and what I have saved from that graveyard shift I picked up at the laundromat, I can afford the crib no problem. Maybe you could, ah, come with me to pick it out! I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for, but whatever you want, you got it. And—And I’ll start stocking up on diapers, and stuff. Y’know, different sizes. Some clothes. Could even get a nice baby blanket, or somethin’. I guess cribs have those teeny mattresses, so we’ll need sheets for that, too. Um, one of those, y’know, things that hangs over it and spins, puts them to sleep.” His lips hinted at his first smile in weeks at his dumb explanation for a mobile. “And with your job, you have health insurance, don’t you? That’ll.. That’ll really help us out,” he emphasized by bugging his eyes, and nodding. “There’s a position open at an auto shop in town that I’m gonna apply for, but I don’t think insurance will kick in until I work there for a certain number of days. Sucks, but it’s decent money. Better than what I make now, anyway. Um..” Thinking, he sorted through his plan for the future in his head, making sure he didn’t forget anything important—

That’s when he made the mistake of looking up, and a different type of heartache wrung his chest.

Indifference powdered her shimmery beige eyelids, darkening to smoky apathy at the outer corners with a touch of heavy mascara weighing her eyes half-closed. She appeared bored—he wished she appeared bored—but in the eternity he glanced at her, she resembled a loaded chamber moments from cutting him off.

Continuing, he said, “I can also handle the small stuff like bottles, and bibs, and pacifiers. Depending on how much the crib is, I can probably swing the carseat too, just gotta sell my other guitar, and—”

“Eddie,” she stated. He winced.

There was no trace of his smile left on his lips; trembling and licking at the sore metallic-tasting spot he bit out of habit. The first sign of rejection welled behind his eyes. A sense of shame clogged his throat, but he tried, “Are people still bothering you about me?” he asked, so meek and defeated.

Her words were a merciless killing, “Does it matter?” He shrugged, running the side of his hand along the table’s edge, concentrating on the crumb. “And don’t bother buying anything.”

“Why not?” he faltered. “I’m not gonna be some deadbeat who doesn’t provide, okay? I’m good on my word.”

“You know why.”

The cruelty, the truth he denied, struck him.

“You don’t want to try?” His voice went watery, and the candles swam in his vision. “We’re having a baby together, and you don’t want to try and work something out between us?” There was a reason he avoided addressing where the crib would go, or what the arrangement was after coming home from the hospital. In the first few calls they had, she seemed interested when he rattled off the list of cheap apartments he found around Hawkins scribbled into his notebook, and when he lightened the bleak mood with a joke, she laughed, sort of.

Though, he was always the one to call her, and her answers were refined to short words such as yeah, or no. And she did pick up the phone less often, but she was busy with University or her career or there was a family thing that had come up or she was just headed out the door, so he stuck with planning their future by himself, aware of the ugly reality twisting his stomach with dread.

Maybe he was being naive, but he thought she’d come around by now. See how responsible he was being, and maybe.. maybe..

“I’m not interested,” she dismissed him in monotonously stern frankness.

“I thought you said you liked me,” he reminded her, on the verge of something pathetic, “at the party.”

The corner of her jaw twitched from an emotion she ground between her teeth.

That was the final straw.

She swung her gaze around the restaurant, releasing a hard sigh of frustration, and shaking her head. Dropping her hand to the bottom of her belly, she leaned forward, and eviscerated any hope he had for them being together. “I’m not interested,” she hissed under the susurration of nearby tables, “in raising a baby with someone whose reputation is for giving girls discounts when they flirt with him.”

Eddie shrunk into himself, not expecting the hit below the belt.

“You’re just the loser dealer that all the guys send their girls to because they know you’re too lonely to turn them down. I wish I stuck with flirting, because let me tell you, having a couple of smarties to get me through last semester wasn’t fucking worth it.” She motioned at her stomach, he assumed. “I almost missed my finals because I couldn’t stop puking.”

Fat drops wobbled his vision. Anxious sweat from holding his breath prickled his hot face. His knuckles hurt from clacking them against one another, punching bone-on-bone in his lap to distract himself from letting the venom win. Biting impressions of his teeth into tongue from the weight of his one chance at normalcy slipping through his fingers.

The ache of deep-seated rejection stung worse, built worse, escalated worse with every heartbeat echoing in his head: not even someone who’s having your kid wants to be with you.

Chairs skid across the tiles behind him, and a family stood to leave. Eddie faced the stained glass window as they passed, pretending to admire the intricate details while warm tears spilled over the dam, and onto his cheeks in steady drops like rain. Drip, drop, drip, drop..

Embarrassment, failure, freak..

Even before he was wrongfully arrested, his reputation was trash.

Pathetic loser not good enough for his dad, his uncle. Can’t pass fucking high school, or get a girl to stick around for more than a few weeks; just long enough to feel the safety of attachment, learn their likes and dislikes, what their favorite flowers were, and then they’d leave too..

“Doesn’t matter,” she exhaled. One, two—she took two calming breaths through her nose while his was running, and he was trying to not sniffle through the grossness of crying.

Composed and diplomatic, she sat up, smoothed the buttons of her burgundy maternity blouse stretched across her swollen middle, and informed him “I’m giving her up for adoption.”

Eddie froze.

Her.

Tiny tines of salad forks ceased clinking on plates. Silly dull knives unworthy of much else sank into whipped butter, and stopped. Pretty laughter faded, leaving red lipstick kisses staining the rims of wine glasses.

Her.

He froze. A strange cliche to explain how his body reacted. How his heart pounded, and tears splashed onto his clenched fists. How his brain latched onto one word, one word only, and the blood drained from his cheeks to pool liquid rage in his empty belly. How his temper surged like a wave, and crashed, again and again on the shore of fate. How he was thinking sharper, seeing clearer, smelling the raw flame of the candle being snuffed out from his sudden movement.

The tableware rattled when he planted his elbow next to his forgotten dinner, and pointed a stern finger at her stomach. “That’s my daughter, and you will not—”

“C’mon, Ed—”

“No,” he cut her off. He didn’t give a damn if another tear rolled from his wide eyes when he said it, he put conviction behind his voice even when it cracked, “That’s my daughter, and you are not giving her up for adoption.”

“Be serious,” she spat back. “You don’t have the means to take care of a baby. I’m doing this as a favor for the both of us. Mostly for you.”

Eddie sucked his bottom lip inward and chewed the flesh. Shivers of indignation trembled his body, and his nostrils flared from the absolute power he invoked to rein his voice from the snap, bite, snarl his upper lip suggested. “I don’t care what you think is best,” he maintained through the viscous tar coating his refusal in the abhorrence she deserved. “That baby.. She’s mine.” He nodded until the motion was ingrained, and her expression changed. Pointing to himself, now. “She’s mine, and I want her.”

There wasn’t much thought put behind his decision. It was done. It was innate. It was automatic, and her soft warning—”You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,”—was as heeded as the candle’s flame.

He paid for the date. It cost five hours of his minimum wage. That was all his money. He was hungry when he got back to his shitty motel; opening the door to darkness, and a suitcase of dirty clothes he’d need to sort before going to work at the gas station at the edge of town where his boss cut his hours last week because it was making customers uncomfortable to see a criminal serve them at the till, and a new sound replaced the ding of the cash register: loser, loser, loser..

Already, he couldn’t afford diapers.

Already, he failed.

Already, he was worthless.

Already, he was alone.

Not even the woman he was having a baby with wanted to be with him.

——Now——

Eddie hung up the phone, and you watched his shoulders rise and fall for long moments, listening to the rain pattern shift above. The storm spilled its sorrows on the tin roof, uncaring if the structure could handle the stress of another trial when it was weak and susceptible. It poured, and poured. Ruthless. Vicious and brutal as nature could be, targeting the vulnerable and strong alike.

His back broadened with a breath, and finally, he dropped his hand from the yellowed plastic, staring at the dial pad as his arm went limp at his side. Absorbed by his thoughts as the old night rolled into another low growl of thunder, and whatever was on his mind reflected heavily in his vacant appearance.

“Ed?” You waited for him with a kind lift to your brows, but as soon as his glance landed, your chest tightened.

The emotion in Eddie’s eyes was heavily guarded, communicating little as to what caused the tenseness in his jaw when he averted his gaze to the floor, walking fast and purposefully away from you standing half-dressed in his kitchen, and stopping at the front door with his head down. Going through the motions of buttoning his pants, and buckling his belt, rigid and rough, snapping the leather against itself.

“Is Adrie okay?” you asked, voice coming out painfully shallow, like when you were using it to diffuse a customer service issue with the breeze of happiness and a plastered smile.

Leaned over, he shoved his feet into his boots, and began lacing. “She’s fine.”

Blunt, and closed off. Not like your Eddie from an hour ago. And you didn’t know how to navigate asking him what was wrong, and easing him into opening up to you, coaxing him back to that place of union and understanding.

Left feeling confused, you gleaned that this wasn’t the time to bother him about it, and mumbled, “Okay,” and assumed the rest. You dragged the whispery ends of the blanket across the floor, and picked your sweater off the carpet, having that particular sense of embarrassment as if you’d missed a cue, and should’ve read the room sooner, and been clothed and leaving without him asking.

You dressed in silence, doing up the buttons on the cardigan he so skillfully slipped you out of. Treading over linoleum to wash the evening off your hands and mouth. Making yourself small to fit next to him in the entryway, and putting on your shoes in a state of quiet obedience, missing the warmth of his hands and the comfort of his lovesick grin. Wilting under the coldness of his attitude, and wanting nothing more than to reach out, and soothe that bit of regret knotted between his eyebrows.

He regarded the exposed skin of your upper chest, and handed you his black hoodie from where it hung next to his canvas work jacket. “Here.”

Here wasn’t much of a break in the distance he resurrected between you, but you pulled the heavy scent of cigarettes and cologne over your head, and he almost found himself braving eye contact to tell you, “I’m dropping you off first.”

“What? No,” you blurted, “I’m going with you to pick her up. She’s just scared of thunderstorms, right? No big deal, you can drop me off after.” Which seemed like the right thing to say; that you were fine with Adrie crying, but when he set his gaze on you, a small image of yourself swam in his endless pupils, and your stomach clenched at the animal warning in his unbreakable stare.

Eddie shook his head an imperceptible amount, only enough to loosen the curtain of curls tucked beneath his jacket’s collar, and shift the lamp’s glare at the edge of his bitter coffee eyes. It was a threat to back off. Leave well enough alone. Stop encroaching on the parts of his life he hid, and keep the illusion intact.

“I wanna go,” you assured gently.

However, your support fell short when challenged against the aggressive shine swallowing you whole. He looked at you. Really looked at you with the same intensity as when his hands were on your hips and you rocked yourself in his lap, chests flush together with a lazy prayer of your name on his tongue; when nothing mattered more than honoring each other with lips and teeth, tasting sweat on necks and sucking bruises until moans were spilled from heads thrown back. But instead of unraveling you in shocks of pleasure, the ignorance of your child-free lifestyle softened the harsh lines of his face, and slowly, slowly, the shine dulled. The fight left him.

He saved his apology until his back was turned, and the squeaky doorknob gave under his heavy palm—turning it with too much force—and he cracked open the world beyond the two of you, dousing the lingering tenderness of your affection on his skin with frigid mist. “Sorry tonight ended this way.” The door banged open on the rusted iron handrail, caught on a gust.

The trailer park was bright with daylight. Flash, after flash.

Eddie’s silhouette eclipsed the doorway, outlined in lightning. He stood impossibly taller—like the animal threat still lurked within his structure, and caution stayed within your subconscious, altering how you perceived his lanky frame into something more imposing. His shoulders carried many burdens, bulked from five years of hard labor, possessing strengths you couldn’t imagine. He stepped to the side, insisting the door stay open with the spread of five fingers only, and his body no longer shielded you. You were exposed to the cold splash of rain on your shins. His palm was firm at your lower back, and you peered up at the hard set of his jaw feathering the muscle at the corner, sweeping the bone in a mature edge of stubble. Strands of his frizzy hair whipped in the wind. Droplets speckled his nose like freckles. His gaze, anchored on his car through the downpour, brewed with resentment.

His deep timber resonated in your chest beneath the safety of his hoodie, “Car door’s open, I’ll lock up behind you.”

And you were pushed.

Beaten down to a hunch, you took careful strides in your heeled shoes down the concrete steps and into the soft mud, covering your head as best you could from the cloud’s assault, and flinching at the closeness of the strikes darting around the boundary of treetops surrounding the trailer park. You tried the handle, and the car welcomed you into its dry insides. Guilt followed your tracks of caked on mud, leaves, and dead weeds on his nice red interior, but when you shivered to the bone, you didn’t care as much. Curled in on yourself, you spied Eddie’s vague shape through the waterfall blurring the windshield, and listened to his heavy boots trudge up to the door, and soon, the car sank with his weight too.

The engine roared to life. Heat wouldn’t come from the tiny AC units for some time, but the promise of such gave you hope. Eddie, beside you, drenched beyond measure, did not match your enthusiasm. Shadowed streams snaked across his pinched expression, swimming down his heavy brow, and splitting his raw lips. His bangs stuck to his forehead, and his cheeks trembled from his clacking teeth.

Soft music played from the radio station.

Riders on the Storm.

Two booms of thunder ended your small attempt at a smile from the timing.

Leftover adrenaline pulsed in your veins, fumbling your grip on the seatbelt. Wet earth and unease stroked your skin like skeletal hands, muddying your tights, and soaking his hoodie, weighing it down to your crushed sweater beneath. You wanted to speak; to poke, to prod, to press him to talk to you. The questions were there. On your tongue. At the ready; inviting him to tell you why his mood soured over a situation out of his control, other than the obvious weather.

But Eddie’s face was carved with irritation, baring his teeth as he attempted to buff circles into the icy fog on the windshield, only for it to cloud over in an instant. “C’mon..”

The wipers couldn’t keep up with the powerful current, and the tires struggled to find traction. “Fucking—damnit,” he said, interrupted by him slapping the steering wheel, cascading water off his work jacket, and onto every surface around him.

You twisted your hands in your lap at his mild slip in temper.

Now was not the time to bother him.

In a lurch, your shoulder bumped the door, and your head rocked side to side from the car backing over the swell of mud behind the tires. With another frustrated stomp on the gas, it evened out on paved road, and though the visibility was low, you were off towards the nicer side of Hawkins.

For once, he drove responsibly. Street signs could be read before he passed them. Fallen limbs in the road could be avoided, not ran over. His rings tinked off the glass when he rubbed at the thin fog, and the music was dialed to a somber ambiance behind the deep sighs through his nose. Dark stretches of treetops bent to the wind’s will. Short buildings sat so dim beyond the faint streetlights, they might as well have been deserted. Each red light was a necessary break for him to shove his fingers in the air vents to thaw them.

He never spoke. Never looked at you. He kept himself busy with tasks, and when those tasks were over and his hands were defrosted and the windshield was mostly clear, he regressed within himself. Unnervingly quiet. Turning onto streets with heavier regrets sagging his features the longer he crawled in front of white picket fence houses, and stopped.

The two story home was lit beautifully by the ornate sconces placed on either side of the doorway. Their lawn was manicured, and the sidewalk was free of weeds. No cars were at the mercy of the storm, they were parked inside the two-door garages. There was activity behind the embossed curtains hung in the living room of the residence. Presumably, the biggest shape was the father who called over the phone.

Someone who wore a business suit to the preschool’s Thanksgiving play lived here.

Eddie stalled. He remained seated forward, hands gripped at 10 and 2, squeezing the steering wheel as rain echoed in the belly of the car, battering the roof inches above your damp hair. There was a pause in his movements, his breathing. An awareness in his silence at the questions you didn’t ask. Tension in his pursed lips, rubbing them together as he surveyed the street.

He opened his mouth. Then, he thought better of it, and got out.

Your earnest call of his name was swallowed by the sea cleansing his body of your night together.

Leaping up the bullnose brick stairs, Eddie raised his hand, but before he could knock, the artisanal stained glass shimmered with movement. The immaculate door opened to a winced face. The man’s glasses were askew on his aged eyes, and his peppered hair hung over his eyebrows, no longer gelled back. He exchanged a few tight words with Eddie as Adrie was handed over, and Eddie, of course, shuffled into a meek posture, dipping his head, apologizing profusely. Almost bowing to this man dressed in matching pajamas and a robe. In horror, you watched the door close during one such apology. You could tell it happened in the middle of him speaking, because you had to sit through the agony of Eddie animatedly explaining something only for him to look up, straighten at the realization, and stand there for a few more seconds until the sconces dimmed off.

Worse, still, he cowered in the nook as cruel rain belted his back, doing his best to bundle Adrie in her tattered quilt and securing her on his hip, keeping all of her dry except her little legs wrapped around his middle. She buried her face in his neck, and he hesitated on the balls of his feet, judging the distance between the house and the car. His large palm covered the blanket over her head. All he had was his jacket.

Lightning revealed his weary frown.

At the clap of thunder, he sprinted.

Back in New York, at the going away party your friends threw in your and Robin’s honor, they warned you about moving to the Tornado Alley, and what to look for if one were to appear—green skies and all—but most importantly, they told you an incoming tornado sounded like a train. Being city dwellers, they wouldn’t actually know, but Robin confirmed it. And now you could too, because the piercing wail coming towards you could only belong to a natural disaster, not a four-year-old girl.

Murky water flooded to Eddie’s ankles from where it rushed against the sidewalk, sloshing in with his boot stomped to the floorboard for balance as he ducked inside amidst the fuss. He got Adrie into her carseat as quickly as possible. In the chaos, her overnight backpack fell somewhere in the dark, her quilt was chucked aside, and he cursed when the buckle bit into his thumb. She had a fistful of his hair, tangling it, making it harder to see what he was doing. He may have even threatened her full name to let go. It was hard to hear on account of the shrieking.

“Daddy!” The vowels were elongated, broken by hiccups. He shut the door, and in the small space with no escape, her big emotions rang louder. “Daddy!” Again, the y was screamed with the full power of her lungs, which would be impressive for their tiny size if it wasn’t for the pounding in your skull. She hollered louder when he sat heavily behind the wheel, “Daddy!” He didn’t shush her fourth tantrum spilt on his name; he accepted it, knowing it was futile.

It took all your strength to blink. Sat half-turned in your seat, frozen, gaze unfocused, marveling at your brain’s ability to function. You shifted your attention to Eddie’s face, a surprising few inches from yours.

The heat of his concentration scorched shame to your cheeks.

Avoidant no longer, your reaction to Adrie’s meltdown was the sole subject of his interest. Zeroed in on, dissected, and picked apart by just his eyes alone. Didn’t matter which eye you shied from, you were pinned in both, your discomfort blatant for him to witness. Your clamped mouth, your apologetic withdrawal, your fidgety fingers on your skirt; all of it. All of it was captured in his periphery because he didn’t dare break sight as he turned the key in the ignition, and started a raucous engine you couldn’t remember being turned off.

Humbled by the girl assaulting your senses, your questions were answered.

This was why he didn’t want you to come. This was why he slighted you with a pointed look from the recesses of his annoyance when you trivialized his daughter’s behavior as ‘No big deal.’ This was why he kept you separate from his parental sphere where everything wasn’t made of sunshine and rainbows. This—coming to terms with your inexperience staining each uncontrollable contortion of your unprepared expression—was why he never let anyone near his heart.

Adrie could no longer form his name through her open-mouthed cries, resorting to plain, wet screams which trilled past your eardrums, resulting in a throbbing headache.

At that, he grasped the gear shift, put his boot to the gas, and cut fat lines through the river overflowing the pampered neighborhood streets.

Eddie’s anger was a presence. His embarrassment, too. Just like at the auto shop when problems stacked and stacked into an unbearable weight on top of his sleepless nights and long mornings, he turned inward to delay his outburst. To feel everything so fully in his fists wringing the leather covered steering wheel until it creaked, and teeth gritted until they begged no more. Just that one second to release his frustration, and then it was suppressed from sight. But you felt it. His ire rested below your braced muscles, beneath your clammy palms and in your shallow breath. It invaded the tidy home you kept behind your ribs, taking up residence in your hammering heart.

The humiliation of having the date end when it did paid its dues in his bad mood. Disappointment radiated off his narrowed eyes, and slack frown. “Adrie,” he warned in a low tone.

She bawled louder, shriller than the crack of lightning.

The immense pressure to adapt was upon you. There was no sense in parsing what he expected you to do in this situation, it was clear he was soured by your ineptitude the moment you let it show on your face, but.. Only two short weeks ago, he relied on you to divert Adrie’s meltdown before DND night. And sure, she had already stopped crying by the time you got there, but you could come to his rescue again, couldn’t you?

You twisted around in your seat, proud of yourself for thinking of a solution, and showed him you could handle a modicum of parenthood. “Adrie, look!” you tamped down your children’s television host voice to a delightful, excited cheer, “I’m here. Miss Mouse is—!” Shocked with your hand reaching towards her, shooting pain traveled up your arm from her swift kick to your wrist. You recoiled, rubbing at your forearm without blame. It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t even looking at you. Her fit was directed at the window she couldn’t peel her attention from, dropping tear after tear from her swollen eyes at the thunder shaking the car. “Adrie?” you tried softer, but she beat her hands on the carseat harder. Wailed until you were defeated to a wince. Yelled until you accepted a unique heartbreak you weren’t prepared for.

Miss Mouse couldn’t always save the day.

Acute twists of rejection wrung your chest. Eddie wasn’t the type to say I told you so, he wasn’t mean like that, but when you sat forward and your gazes moved past one another, never quite meeting, you knew what he was thinking.

Little else stung worse than his obvious cynicism at how this date was concluding.

Exacerbating the issue, Adrie escalated to screeching her distress. Every open sob of hers pulled your focus, invaded your brainspace, overpowered any thought before it began, and set your teeth on edge from the high-pitched squeals you swore vibrated in your bones. Her behavior seeped into your nerves, winding them up, scratching them with the very tip of a brittle nail, inciting a riot. The need to flee crawled under your skin. Breathing was uncomfortable. Your ankle hurt. There was to break in between the blinding pulses of your headache. The car was too hot, too cold, too swerving from the high winds buffeting it sideways. Your tights were too tight. His hoodie too stifling. Itchy yarn from your sweater chafed your damp neck. Alarms of panic battled inside. Louder, louder, louder—Adrie cried louder. Eddie’s lips tugged down at the corners, chin wrinkled, tensing his face from a sadder response. Your lashes fluttered from the chokehold his frown had on you. Fingernails bit your palms. You tried to bide your time, to resist snapping. Dug down deep for something, something you could do, something.. innate. Some answer within you to fix it all. To get her to stop. To get him to relax. Something, something, something—instinctual.

“Pull over!” you barked; Eddie had every right to whip his head around at your sudden demand, but in your panicked state you only cared about the road ahead. “Ju-Just—just—” You scanned the dark parking lot outside the hardware store, and stabbed your finger on the cold window, pointing past it. “The gas station! Under the roof-thing.”

When it wasn’t clear he heard you, you turned towards him at the same time he leaned forward to catch your eye. Justifiable skepticism burdened his brow, tightening the edges of his crow’s feet. His lips hung parted with a confirmation hesitating between them; however, it was silenced after you maintained your need, and the fight against the wind won.

Soppy pebbles scraped wet asphalt, muddied in the bump and grind from Eddie turning too sharply into the sloped driveway, banging into a pothole, and rattling the innards of his already rocky cargo. He careened towards the closed convenience store with its row of dim fluorescent lights inside. Pulling up alongside the gas pumps, he slammed the breaks. A second later, he slapped the windshield wipers OFF, violently shushing their grating squeak.

His patience strained thinner. Working through the sensory overload festering like infected wounds on blistered skin, he rumbled a shallow apology past his aching teeth. Quickly, it devolved into a barrage of doubt. “Look, I’m sorry she—Wait, where’re you—?” The instant fear of rejection shot past his octave. “Wait! Please don’t—”

Cruelly, he thought; heartlessly, he knew; the sun-faded black cotton draped about your shoulders was the last image his adrenaline latched onto, playing it over, and over, door slam and all. He wasn’t parked for more than a clock tick, and you hurled yourself out into the storm, leaving him behind. His first assumption was gentle. Kind whispers stroked the angst in his chest, telling him you needed a break from the noise, that was all. Then the hatred of abandonment gutted his center.

“Giving up already?” he asked aloud in a conclusion only meant to hurt himself when no one was there to answer.

As if sensing his hopelessness, Adrie sniffled into the worst of her hyperventilated cries. Broken disjointed things. Sinking him deeper, deeper into his seat, crossing his arms over his caved chest, shuddering at the hot sting wobbling his vision at his own inadequacy.

Never good enough for anyone to stay.

Tremors of repressed memories wakened the churn of nausea making him sick.

“Baby, baby, it’s okay,” soothed a voice behind him, trickling in with the splash of faraway drops. “It’s okay, sweet baby, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Eddie jerked his chin up and stretched his neck to see into the rearview mirror. The wall of water teetering on his lash line made everything blur, so he tugged down the slick skin beneath his eyes to suck back the tears, and almost allowed them to spill at the scene behind him anyway.

In the reflection, you crawled across the backseat and unbuckled Adrie’s carseat, learning how to maneuver the straps from watching him. She reached for you, your hair, your clothes; small fists belying their strength. You didn’t care. You calmed her struggles with pretty words. “It’s okay, yeah, you can hold on to me, baby. Let’s get you wrapped up nice and warm. There we go.” Shhh. “Let me see your face, so I can clean you up.” Shhh.

“M–M-Mizz Mou—se,” Adrie got out between body-wracked sobs.

“Mhm, I’m here.” Shhh. “Miss Mouse is here.”

—Oh.

“Baby..” So modest was his whisper when so resolute was his yearn.

He leapt into motion, flushed with adrenaline.

The ripple effect of your actions caused tidal waves to swell and crash over him; body hitched in the place where his past convinced him he lost it all, only to collapse into a stuttered exhale of acceptance, understanding there was someone out there who cared about him to this degree; throat constricting with gratitude he could only express by stumbling out into the foggy cold, throwing open the door, and sliding into the backseat with you.

His fingers grazed the baby hairs at your nape on their way to the side of your head, using his wide palm which took up too much room to cradle you steady with a gentleness unknown to his tough skin. He trusted you to forgive him for how hard he knocked his forehead to your temple, and smashed his nose to the soft of your cheek. He need not worry. Beautifully, you adjusted to the bulky arm behind your neck, leaned into the crook of his body he hollowed out for you, and filled the familiar place at his side. You worked diligently to clear his daughter’s face while he passed a strong hand over her back and dropped it to shape his grip at the end of your thigh, curving his fingers in and slotting them to the underside, behind your knee.

“S’okay, Adrie,” you cooed, wiping at the sticky grossness clinging to her nose. “I’ve got you,” you continued the mantra, albeit with a lapse in motherly tenderness as a result of trying not to gag too hard.

Outside the car, the gas station’s tall canopy provided enough coverage to stop the rain from pounding the roof. Harsh winds howled past, encouraging the woeful sobs dropped onto your breasts, but the lightning stayed within the clouds, and the thunder faded in the distance. “Look at me,” you guided, sweeping the hoodie’s cuff over her puffy cheeks glowing splotchy red from the neon beer signs in the postered up convenience store windows. “We’ve got you. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here.”

Eddie lips pulled thin against your skin, breath stuttering damp and thick on your neck like a smothered cry.

“Nothing bad can happen when we’re here, okay?” Repeating the union of you and him, you went on, “We’ve got you. You’re safe with us. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here. Right, sweet bean?” You tucked the quilt around her feet, and held her close. “We won’t let anything bad happen to you, ever.”

With her hands latched into the folds of fabric around your neck—cotton, yarn, and canvas—her big coughs were cushioned by your arms snuggling her to your front while Eddie’s chest was at her back, embracing her between your two bodies converging to protect her in a toasty nest. Warm air hummed from the vents, shooing off the stale chill clinging to the backseat, now disturbed by activity and plucky guitar strings playing over the radio.

Across the Universe.

Undertaking the complexities of the man rubbing his forehead into your hair with the same sort of neediness as his little girl wringing your clothes, you assumed the responsibility of consoling them both. “Nothings gonna change my world,” you mumbled the lyrics into the patchwork quilt covering Adrie’s curls. “Nothings gonna change my world,” you sang to Eddie, face tipped up and eyes falling closed, seeking out his nose to trace the tip of yours along the soft bumps in a devoted offering after the turbulent events causing you both inner strife.

His fingertips became an imposing force spread across the scope of your cheek, turning you toward him, capturing you in a deeper kiss than you were ready for. It was demanding, hard with desperation, misaligned and urgent. Born out of necessity in the moment. He kissed you in front of his daughter, where she could see if she picked her face up from your chest, and a dart of surprise lit your heart at the recklessness. You kept a level hand atop her head in case he’d come to regret the decision, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. He sighed into a second helping, and at the sound of the wet smack, she stirred.

Adrienne hooked her fingers into your collar and sniffled hard, soothing herself from further cries by hugging you tight, huddling into your comfort, oblivious to what was happening around her.

Easily, you fell into the third kiss. Became what he needed, mouths mashing together at the odd angle, your lower lip plush between his. Dizzying amounts of reverence manifested in his spontaneity. He packed a lifetime’s worth of bottled up feelings into the affection he was privileged to. Giving, and taking. But his impulses were still a puzzle. When he’d drank his fill, he squeezed your leg, broke apart from your lips in a silent slick slide, and drew a deserved breath.

“Sorry, no one’s ever just.. done that for me before.” He shrugged his hand off your thigh at the poor summary of the millions of things on his mind, and left it at that.

Spurred by the praise, you seized the opportunity for communication. “Remember how before we played DND that night, I told you to call me first next time you needed help?” you reminded him, and something vulnerable, maybe even pleadful, entered your tone. “I want to be someone you can rely on, Eddie.”

An unfortunate amount of complicated emotions passed in his eyes. There wasn’t much to garner from them, nor his soft grunt when he dropped his nose to the column of your neck, above Adrie’s head, and regressed into his quiet self. Reserved. Hard to decipher. He did speak up once to warn you she would fall asleep with how you were holding her—same as he did most nights on the couch while Late Night with David Letterman aired—and you embellished your promise to him with a kiss to the stringy curls frizzing at his scalp, “That’s okay.”

And it was okay, truly, when the storm raged heaves of rain against the car, spraying the windows with shocks of water. You dabbed Adrie’s cheeks. Wiped her nose. Rocked her in the same tempo as the backs of Eddie’s fingers stroking your cheekbone, flexed bicep behind your neck. Thunder occurred. Lightning happened. But with your quick thinking, lulling gestures, and genuine effort to speak past the fondness clogging your throat, you calmed her. Calmed her so well, in fact, her hands went limp and her body relaxed, fatigue claiming her victim to the numbered sheep hopping over fences in her dreams. After her tantrums, she was taxed out. Drained.

Stuck in the cramped middle between Eddie and the carseat, you rearranged your legs before they went tingly numb from her weight on your lap, and shifted the pressure off your heels. It was sweet having her fall asleep on you. Her slow breaths filled your arms as a reward for your efforts to hush her. The quilt smelled of their home, cozying itself in your lungs and sweeping you in a sense of longing for the humidity in his kitchen after making soup.

Though, as much as you thrived on the temporary role you played as parent—taking over for Eddie and dwelling on the fact Adrie slept propped on your chest like the many times she napped on his stained coveralls—you could do without the additional pain of him leaning on you too.

You groaned at the sharp twinge in your spine from slouching sideways, and conveniently, your movement roused his consciousness. He launched into a sleepy inhale. Robust, filling his lungs to the brim, too loud, too silly and sweet. He primed you for a solid press of the bridge of his nose to your jaw by thumbing you towards him, after which he pulled away, separating himself from you fully.

Eddie rolled his shoulders, stretching out from the uncomfortable position, and faced the window. He commented in a sincere tone, “You’re good with kids.”

“I know how to entertain kids,” you corrected him. “I don’t know how to do any of the hard shit you do.”

The streetlights painted strokes of dotted orange on his complexion cast in shadow. He played with the tips of his fingers, squishing each one in a line as he ruminated, staring elsewhere, perspiration blurring the outerworld, sealing yourselves in this crowded car together. “You do a good job,” he reassured, petering out in a hoarse whisper.

Ceaseless nerves gnawed at his absent-minded ring spinning. Not a big production like when he wrung his hands or bit his nails, but enough to show he was getting anxious. You’d expected his leg to be bouncing by now, but it was laying softly against yours. Something big was on his mind.

You bumped your knee into his. “Talk to me.”

Talk to me. Yes, you asked the world of him. You knew it, too. Encouraging his gaze to flick to Adrie bundled in your arms, and back to the window. His eyes weren’t wide with fear, just larger than normal at the subtle confrontation. It was time he opened up to you. There wasn’t a concrete ultimatum if he didn’t, but there was a mutual understanding that if this were to continue, he needed to trust you to be there for him. No more reluctance.

He extended his hand towards your knee, patting twice before claiming it in the great breadth of his palm, stroking his thumb over the thin pantyhose; bridging the gap from his earlier behavior, but not yet apologizing for the soreness he caused.

Sorting his thoughts, his throat bobbed twice on the swallow.

And of all the questions he could ask, of all things he could say, of all the topics he could choose, he picked, “Did you ever want kids?”

Heat swam to your cheeks, blood rushed to your ears. Buds of true belonging bloomed at the question, adorning stems of untended longing first planted during the Christmas party at work, ever growing. Your heart pumped faster at the inherent past and implied future of the subject. His curiosity was a mild prod, perhaps not meant to encourage these leaps in logic considering he announced it in the same buckled cadence of someone who was asking about the weather—and yet, the hold it had on you was impossible to deny. A blend of you, Adrie, and him, just like now, but in different contexts—different meanings other than sitting in the back of his car—something domestic, like being piled together on the couch watching Disney movies; that’s what was pushed to the forefront of your mind.

But, despite those instantaneous fantasies, this was a place for honesty, and the significance of your pause between his question and yours was an entity of its own, stiff like his posture.

“Are you ready for this conversation?” you checked. He fostered an anxious glance and nod. “Having kids is not something I ever saw for myself, no.” The consequence of your answer marked his immediate dropped eye contact, but ever patient with him, you continued strongly, “With how I dated and moved around, I didn’t think it was for me, that sort of lifestyle. It’s just not something I put a lot of thought into except when my friends were having kids, and really, they kinda turned me off of the idea. Pregnancy sounds.. daunting. Or—you know—really fucking scary. They’d always talk about how awful it is, all the complications you could have, the risks, the near death experience in one case,” you broke off in a squirm. “And then you don’t even get the relief once the baby comes. Like, seriously, taking care of a newborn sounds straight up terrifying.”

Eddie cracked. His hiss of laughter was a welcomed reprieve, especially when it sank to his chest, gripping his shoulders in a hearty shake. “Y-Yeah,” he got out, face crinkled in all the ways you adored, “it is straight up terrifying.”

You giggled in the softest way, careful to not disturb Adrie’s shallow breaths, and careful to not swoon too head-over-heels over the image of him rocking a baby. “It seems easier when they’re older, though,” you said, broaching the real crux of the conversation with your chin dipped to the top of her head. “Like it’s not as bad when they can actually communicate why they’re crying, or tell you what’s bothering them.”

“Not necessarily easier, just different,” he clarified. “It’s less about making sure this little tiny thing that can choke on its own snot survives the night, and more about the emotionally draining problems like her telling you about her day at preschool, explaining a situation where a group of kids kept giving her tasks to do that sent her away, and she’s smiling so big when she’s telling you, thinking it was a game, but deep down you’re just waiting for the heartbreak years down the line when she realizes they gave her errands to run because they were excluding her, and the reason they were laughing every time she came back was because they took joy in being mean to her.”

Wilt tinted your faint, “Oh..”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He upped the pressure he used to pat and rub your knee. “S’part of life.”

Consumed by his side profile, you studied the scope of his impassive expression set on the premature lines edging his face. The urge to find the right thing to say amidst the convoluted churn of anger on his behalf, and sadness on Adrie’s, itched something fierce beneath your skin. Ultimately, no words of inspiration came.

Eddie took an anticipatory breath.

The radio garbled advertisements for the station’s sponsors.

“Still wouldn’t trade it for those first months when she was a newborn, though.” Pursing his mouth thin, he rolled his lips inward with a hardened brow, releasing and scrunching tension around his nose as he shook his head slowly, addressing the memories of those days with a shine of pain to his eyes, and a loud smack of his tongue. “The moment I found out Adrie’s mom was pregnant, I wanted to do the right thing—y’know?” He took his hand off your leg to demonstrate the narrow path he followed. “Kept my head down, stayed focused, didn’t bother anybody, got a real job, and kept my mouth shut. Lotta places didn’t wanna hire me, obviously, but I applied anywhere I could, and when I got the job, I’d go get another one on a different shift, and another one on a graveyard shift. Sold whatever I had—guitars, ‘nd shit—bought what I could with the money. I wanted to be a good man. Be a provider. Be worth something.” Scrubbing his shaky fingers over the stubble on his chin, he aimed to calm himself, but when bringing up the Hell he went through during those times, there was little to stop his pitch from wavering. “Still wasn’t good enough.”

A verdict aimed at him flippantly, yet the impact on his self-esteem was immeasurable.

Gathering himself, he licked the inside of his cheek, and explained, “In the beginning, when Adrie was born, I tried to make it on my own. Locked in this little motel room with a crying baby. Couldn’t go to work. Didn’t have anyone to call to watch her for me, y’know, didn’t.. didn’t have anyone to rely on after walking out on my uncle, and isolating myself from my friends. The people at the bullshit resource center said I wasn’t eligible for benefits because they were for single moms, not dads. And child support was taking too long to kick in. Not like it mattered when it couldn’t pay for a single canister of Similac. I didn’t have fucking anything. Or know anything.”

His shame was only beginning to unravel.

“There were these free classes at a clinic for expecting parents, but I..” He dropped his knuckles to his thigh and fed them along the coarse cotton, using the friction to burn away the guilt. “I-I didn’t go. I didn’t want to go alone. Be the only guy there, by myself. Have all these people w-who might know who I am fucking.. fucking staring at me.” With how he was looking down at his lap, rocking slightly with his movement, he stood no chance against the wall of tears damming at his lashes. “I didn’t want to go because of my sense of pride, and my baby suffered because of it.”

“Eddie, that’s not true—” you stepped in.

Three effective beats of his fist on his leg, and you were left to witness his face crumple from the utter contempt he had for himself.

“It is true,” his volume fluctuated in jumps. “She wouldn’t eat. She wouldn’t fucking eat and keep it down.” Droplets splashed his jeans in unyielding splats. Drip, drop, drip, drop.. They slipped and spread in splotches of salty remorse he couldn’t wipe away quick enough. “Nothing worked. Couldn’t get her to latch onto a bottle, and, and—I didn’t know, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to microwave the formula, but she wouldn’t take it room temp, so if it was too hot she’d just scream at me until it wasn’t, and I–I just—I was having these breakdowns, I don’t know. I blacked out, and next thing I knew, I was at Harrington’s, and Nancy was taking care of her for me.” The emphasis alluded to much, though the fact their son was only a year older, and Nancy would still be producing milk said it all.

Frantic breaths which wouldn’t catch were pulled past grimaced lips parted on the unrefined sob his confession emerged on. “I never wanted to be with Adrie’s mom, but proving what she said was right, th-that I was a fucking loser who didn’t know what he was doing, it-it-it.” In a desperate flourish, he pointed at his temple, It lives in here, and another tear clung to the tip of his nose, smeared by the back of his wrist.

Stunned useless by the suffocating urge to help him, you blanked. Sat still while your favorite mechanic reduced himself to the wrong opinion of others; the same person who showed his gentle nature by picking worms out of the garage after a heavy rain so they didn’t dry out. Remaining frozen while silent pain wracked your friend’s held breath, heaved and shuddered out as a cough into the same palm he used to catch your ankle when he challenged you to a race on the creepers, and he had to cheat to win before you beat him to the service door. Saying, “Baby, no,” to the man who snuck a smirk over his daughter’s head when he caught you doting over her as she sat on his hip, and the smell of Christmas potluck embedded itself into the memory of Eddie’s eyes hinting at a deeper glint than the tease on his grin.

“I am a fucking failure,” he seeped out his regret. “C-Couldn’t give her what she needed. I still can’t. Still can’t give her what she wants, ever. T-T-Tellin’ her I can’t get her something when she asks for it—and the disappointment. Just a piece of shit who disappoints her. Never good enough—” There was another high-pitched stutter, but it was muffled behind his trembling hands covering his face, and smothered by your intervention.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you shot out, hand and voice working together to untangle the trauma his knotted fingers attempted to hide. “Listen to me.” No please, but no lack of kindness, either. “You are not a disappointment. Not then, not now, not ever. Do you hear me? You’re not any of those things.” You tugged at the canvas jacket around his stiff arms tucked tight to his body, and rocked him away from his huddle against the door.

In the aftermath of your scramble to comfort him, Adrienne startled awake. Her soft hmm? became a grunty whine when the sensation of slipping backwards disoriented her. “Daddy?” One of her fists found your hoodie for balance, but her groggy curiosity dealt a heartbreaking blow.

She traced the wet trail on his cheek, encountered a tear in its path, and broke the droplet’s surface tension on her finger, wondering aloud, “Why’s Daddy crying?”

Thinking quickly, you used your muscles earned through unloading car parts from delivery trucks, and scooped her from your lap onto his, diverting the nuance of grown-up-problems by fumbling out, “Daddies cry sometimes, too. Have you told him you love him today? Can you tell him? It’ll make him feel better. Please, Miss Adrie?” Whether or not it was the perfect phrasing wasn’t important. What mattered was the unsuspecting gratitude laden at the base of his frown.

“I love you, Daddy,” Adrie said, latching her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

“You’re a good man,” you added, and rolled onto your hip, fitting your body to his side. You nosed through his long, frazzly curls, and spoke earnestly, but softly into his ear, “You’re a good man, Eddie. Look at how well you take care of her. Look at how well fed, clothed, and happy she is. You make her so happy.. You make me happy, too. You’re the best dad I’ve ever met. No one else compares.”

He dragged a sniffle from his last sob into an unintelligible mumble.

“I’m here.” Shh. “I’m here.” You included Adrie in your hug as you brought your hand up to the other side of his flustered hot face, blending your fingers through the hair stuck to the sweat and stubble on his jaw. “We’re here for you. We’ve got you. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here.” Sweet with conviction, “It’s okay, handsome, I’ve got you.”

Overwhelmed by the small I love you, Daddy, on one side, followed by You’re a good man, on the other, his inhale shivered, and he cuddled Adrie to him for a watery, “I love you, too.” Croaky and real, and mouth agape on an ugly cry he let you witness until his needy reach cupped the back of your head, and smushed you to his wet cheek, scratching the same sentiment into your nape, just like you were rubbing it into his scalp, exchanging the affection without words.

Us and Them funneled through the car, mellowing the heightened emotions with its dreamy saxophone opener.

“I’m so glad to have met you,” you prized in tender sweeps of whispers and thumbs. “I actually look forward to coming into work because of you, even when you hide my pen cup, and tickle me when I go to reach for it on top of the Coke machine. Which is unfair, by the way.”

“Yeah?” he asked for dear reassurance, and distraction.

Humming against the intimate corner of his jaw, you nudged the prickly scruff, and melted into his uncoordinated pets over your ear. “I see your sacrifices, and trust me, Eddie, you’re doing a great job at raising your daughter. Stuff like buying her toys, or cookies, or whatever doesn’t matter. The love you show her is better than any of that. She’s so lucky to have you.”

Another tear dropped to the tattered quilt. Another, another dropped. He squeezed his eyes shut and more fell. Hindered breaths let go in stuttered huffs shook his chest, swayed his damp hair. You circled your thumb over the rivers on his sensitive skin, and found a dry section of your sleeve to clean the price he paid for being a good father without the proper support he needed. Soothing him with fond shushes and feather touches. Forming a ball of comfort around him: cramped in the tiny car, a cast of solid fog on the windows for privacy, Adrie’s blanket draped about your jumbled legs, and her lanky arms wrapped around his neck where precious words were stoked from the embers of a fire which he built. “I wanna color with you to-mah-rrow,” she pronounced. “You can have the dinosaur book, because I want the kitty cats. Deal?” Deal, he nodded.

Your bottom lip introduced a blessing at his sideburn, “You deserve to see yourself how we see you.”

Recovering from the unbearable throb his stuffed sinuses drove to his headache, he tried—“Thank you, baby,”—though the letters were mashed together, and further pulped by the thickness in his throat. Loud, however, was his hug. Crushing you both to him with honed strength; flexed forearms demonstrating the power lying dormant in the track of muscle he snaked around your waist. Groans were earned from his expertise. Bones protested the gesture, begging to be released. It took several seconds of your heartbeat pumping visibly at the edge of your vision, but he let go. Afterall, there was no praise to be had by flattened lungs.

“That hurt,” Adrie complained.

“Ow,” you agreed.

“Sorry,” he said in non-apology.

At a change in tone, you fawned, “But that was a nice hug.”

Adrie rated it, “An 8 out of 10.”

Crowded together, the bond was unmatched. His arms were spread like a greedy dragon hoarding its wealth. Chest open, collecting his most remarkable treasures to the roaring furnace locked within the confines of his body, ready to share the warmth to those who could appreciate its value. Clasped in your hand was Adrie’s ankle, gaining squirmy kicks for each smile and giggle traded under Eddie’s chin. Dressed in his well-loved hoodie, the crook of his elbow fit to your figure, and the backs of his fingers strummed your bicep in a trained motion. None of it was perfect, no. The hoodie could smell less like cigarettes, his forearm stuffed behind you meant you couldn’t recline comfortably, and when he patted your hip, he awakened the dull throb of the bruising grip he left during earlier events.

Those weren’t bad things, though. They were as real as human flaws. Accepted as such, too.

“Are you feeling better?”

Sporting a grin favoring one cheek more than the other, Eddie’s eyes were framed by clumped together lashes after being stripped to his barest self and given the grace he needed. “Yeah,” he answered Adrie in fondness, “I’m feeling better now.” Not forever. He wasn’t cured. But with time, he guided his gaze to the velcro shoe you were wiggling back and forth onto her heel, and climbed his soft study up to the plump concentration on your bottom lip after you released it from between your teeth.

Perceiving his attention, you clocked him with a sneaky grin. “We’re a sardine family.” Brightening at the bewildered noise he made, you tapped Adrie’s knee, and imparted your wisdom as if he should know it too. “Yeah, you know, you, me, and Adrie. Jammed packed back here like a tin of sardines. All squished together.”

They blinked at you. You blinked back.

“And I thought I was supposed to be the one with bad jokes,” Eddie offered after some thought. You cut him a look. “But I like the image,” he amended.

“I like sardines,” Adrie chimed. She didn’t know what sardines were, but you appreciated her enthusiasm.

The conversation waned from there. Drowsiness from the old night seeped into your collective huddle, slouching you all towards one another. Heavy limbs went boneless. Tender brushes of thumbs came to an end. The sound of deep breaths were heard between the local ads for Indiana’s finest antique mall and an uptick in the rain smacking the paved street. Near the edge of sleep, you convinced yourself to get Adrie up and into her carseat. Eddie sat back and watched you go through the steps of buckling her in, listening to her plea for Fluff in her backpack, tucking the quilt around her just right, and hitting your head on the roof in pursuit of making her happy. Taking care of his kid. You collapsed beside him, far closer than would be proper for coworkers, and basked in his approval, noting the pride in his charged gaze. The emotional rollercoaster of the evening took its toll on his swollen face—nevertheless, romance novels could learn a thing or two from the way his stare rendered you weak.

“Should get you home before the storm gets worse,” he warned in an attractive thrum of sternness. He might call you lil’ lady next. Or remind you he promised your father he’d have you back on time.

Floating in the fizzy pool of your crush's attention, you nodded your dizzy head, and observed without need, “Yeah, should get home before it gets worse.”

He laughed. You swam in his laugh, in the instinctual desire based in his mood after watching someone nurture his young. A silly thing to rock you into a sultry sweat considering the outcome of your second date. Luckily, when you stepped out of the car, the frigid mist stole your focus, hosing you down and keeping you from reading too much into the odd chemical imbalance that must be happening in your brain.

The night was really fucking long.

Driving with the radio on low, Eddie drifted his ringed fingers over your forearm whenever they weren’t being used on the stick shift. A small gesture letting you know he was thinking about you when there wasn’t anything to talk about, not that it was needed. The calm was nice. The storm behaved en route to the Buckley’s, avoiding the occasional tree limb blocking a lane. He removed his touch from your person, and with a glance, you were assured it wasn’t the last.

“You didn’t have to walk me to my door,” you gasped, posing with your arms stuck out, useless against mother nature sagging your soaked clothes.

A puddle formed on the wood planks where he wrung his hair. “And make you do this run all by yourself? C’mon, sweet stuff. I’m a gentleman.”

Shivering on the covered porch, your shoes were partially to blame for the slipping incident(s) in the muddy driveway. The lack of the house lights on was another, slowing down your sprint into a crawl. A yellow cast from a lamp in the back room lit the hallway, but other than its soft glow, that was it. Clearly, no one expected you to come home.

“Is it okay if, uh,” you began, “Is it okay if we kiss in front of Adrie?” Oh, how your awkward pointing from yourself to the car came to a charming halt, fingers caught in the stiff fabric of his jacket, under his spell.

Plush pink lips warmed by vented heat promised your worries away.

“I think she’s asleep anyway.” His voice was playful, tugging syllables in the way his lopsided grin ought. “But,” he softened, “yeah, we can kiss in front of her.”

The permission washed over you. Weeks and months in the making. Brewing tension under the surface in your daily interactions—and now? You kissed him. Just for fun, just to show off. You kissed him again. Gentle, pretty brushes. Tame, refined, and for the sake of exploring the lack of boundary before saying goodbye.

Working man arms defined your waist.

Fingers calloused from gripping pens grazed his steady throat.

He swallowed, and spoke endearments with his busy mouth, “Could kiss you all day, baby.” Your lips kicked into a smile which he devoured, kiss after kiss. Neat little things. Virtues, maybe.

“Could’ve kissed me since the day we met,” you answered, feeling the squeeze around your back when his belly pressed you into his embrace. Though, his dismissive snort caused you to frown. “I’m serious. Coulda had me back then. Or at least you could’ve kissed me when we were slow dancing in the garage, or standing under the mistletoe at the Christmas party. Like, seriously, way to make me feel rejected.”

His wide passionate eyes shared common ground with his genuine smirk at your feigned agony. “Excuse you, but I am not having our first kiss be at work.”

“Then why not at DND when everyone left?”

“Because, sweetheart,“ his cadence loved those two words most of all, “I knew I only had a few minutes with you. And I needed a helluva lot more than a few minutes with you.”

“Or, what about when—”

Crazy how you strove to be silenced by his mouth. Craved it like no other, provoking him into eager unions, fulfilling the itch and providing the scratch with your bottom lip between his, just how he liked.

You shifted. Your inner thighs rubbed through your ripped tights. The untimely circumstances bringing you to Robin’s door lived on the surface of your chilly skin; ushering you to reality, and he as well.

“I’m sorry for how all this turned out.” Eddie’s sincere apology pitched his voice to something sorrowful, something deeper, and maybe you underestimated how much the night ending when it did upset him as a man.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

He shuffled his stance, scraping his boots in dissatisfaction. “Baby, you didn’t even get anything,” and you knew what he meant. And it annoyed you he’d even brought it up.

Combing your fingers up from his nape through his hair, you drove him into you, chasing the molten ooze pooling at your center in effort to shut him up. Wet, hard, nipping kisses at his plump lips until they were raw like his tear-stained cheeks. You forwent air. Mouths melding as one, then apart as two, then one, then a set of awake eyes boring into his drunk ones. “Our date was perfect. We needed this.” The trust, the experience, the uncomfortable glimpse into his life and how you handled it. His breakdown, his shame, his face when he finally let go and ugly cried in front of you. “I don’t regret how our night turned out.”

Nodding into a nudge of his nose stroking the side of yours, he was honest with himself, “I don’t regret it, either.”

“Well, you might regret it in the next half-hour if this storm keeps up, and you’re stranded with Adrie in the car because a tree fell across the road.”

“Shit.” Indeed, the weather was turning again. If luck were on his side, he could deal with the high winds and sheets of rain until he got home, but, more likely, he drained his luck over the course of the date, and lightning was about to start again.

Eyeing the sky with hesitance, he asked, “Can I call you tomorrow? Or—today?”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t.” Acting as an endorsement to get going before things worsened, thick forest branches creaked in the distance, popping like warnings. You followed it with snappier affections doled between your palms fitted to his jaw. “Please be safe, Eddie.”

“I will, I will. Kay?” Urgency swept him from kiss to kiss—needy, and intense, treating them as the last. “I adore you, baby. Tell me you adore me.”

Mushy under his tender affirmations, your body went pliant and he accepted your weighty lean on his chest, making it harder than it already was for him to leave his sweetheart behind. “—dore you too, handsome,” you moaned into his mouth, sending him off on a proper goodbye.

“Jesus Christ, woman.”

Ever the lovestruck fool, he stayed rooted on the porch watching your figure move from shadow to light within the home, eyes glued to sways and curves as you met the hallway and bent to peep inside Robin’s room. It was the single lamp being turned off which broke his greedy gaze, and ended his fun. Oh well. His Monday morning was booked with penciled in meetings for his admiration and your assets.

Eddie spun on his heel and stopped stalling. He didn’t bother throwing his arms over his head, he accepted his fate, and ran. Sloshing through puddles, slipping in mud. He wrenched open the door, and fell inside the car. The heater made him sticky warm in the gross way, so he turned it down, and got comfortable behind the wheel, adjusting, adjusting.

Pulling oxygen into his outkissed lungs, he heaved a solid breath, and sank into his seat, unable to comprehend the recent events carving out a new path for him to consider where there wasn’t one before.

——Then——

In the beginning…

Summer died to autumn, and it was time to move on from Steve's. Eddie tried to make it on his own in the motel room over the three day weekend break from work, but his wallet was empty, his baby was dressed in another family's blue sailboat onesie, and come Tuesday morning at 7AM, he needed someone to watch Adrie who wasn't an overworked Nancy Harrington.

Infant in hand, pride left behind in his boyhood, Eddie knocked on his uncle's door, and in Wayne's usual manner, he answered by clearing his throat when neither words nor greetings failed to repair the strained relationship.

“Can I live with you?”

Taking in the marks of fatigue under his nephew's averted eyes, Wayne said, “Of course, son,” and welcomed him inside with a swung gesture.

The walk to the single bedroom humbled what spirit Eddie had remaining. Or, crushed what was left of it. He passed by the kitchen table which still had his chair cocked out, noticed the patched-up hole in the closet door, and flicked on the lightswitch, grazing the curled edge of a poster he hung over a decade ago. His stomach sank at the familiarity.

Blazed by the ornate lamp hung in the corner, standing out like a behemoth beside his white desk, was the crib he was never able to afford.

Adrie grunted awake in her carseat. Looking down at her would spill his tears, so he cranked his head back to stare at the ceiling, steeling himself after spotting the new bedsheets stretched across his mattress, and he knew—he knew—if he turned around, the pullout bed in the living room would still be set up.

His uncle never took his room back.

Defeated by the routine pang of worthlessness, impressed to have any self-esteem left to be stolen from him at the point, Eddie sank to his childhood mattress with his three-month-old daughter at his feet, undressed himself from his boots, and made a clear spot for them both on the bed, away from blankets or pillows. He laid on his side, legs crossed and knees bent with an arm beneath his head. Same position he assumed on the motel’s carpeted floor yesterday when Adrie experienced a milestone: rolling over. Not from her back to her stomach, she wasn’t coordinated enough for that yet, but with enough powerful kicks and wiggling, his paranoia coaxed his other arm around her.

He molded himself to be her protector. Chest sunken on a shallow breath, forearm spooned to her side closest to the edge, and gaze trained on her chubby cheek. Her babbly noise of happiness brought him a sense of reward, and though the newborn smell had faded in the weeks where motor oil stung his nostrils, he put his nose to the top of her head for a whiff of a sweet scent that wasn’t there, and felt the peace it brought him anyway.

Wayne shuffled into the room with a sizable stack of chunky hardcover books between his hands. “I, uh, checked these out from the library. Been doin’ some readin’ while you were gone.” He set them down on the bedside table, and pointed at a few of them. “Learned a lot from the one on the bottom, but they were all, ah, educational, I s’pose.. Some lean more religious than others,” he grumbled. “But, uhm..”

The expectant pause in his uncle’s speech drew Eddie’s awareness.

“Can I hold her?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah.” He almost had the strength to clear the rasp from his throat. “You can hold her.”

Putting his new knowledge to good use, Wayne first worked his palm under Adrie’s head before scooping her into his folded arms. Eddie took his shame in small doses, glancing at his uncle meeting his grandchild for the first time, and looking away when he cooed over her. Three months and his only family member had yet to meet his baby. Three months spent avoiding this trailer, and depriving his uncle from making these memories.

Self-loathing boiled under Eddie’s skin, and still, there was a fleeting desire to brag about Adrie’s neck strength, and how it wasn’t so necessary to be wary of her head falling back.

But he stayed quiet. He pushed his overgrown bangs out of his eyes, and read the book’s titles, wondering what sparked enough interest for Wayne to stuff receipts between the pages, or mark them with paper clips if they were particularly interesting.

Speaking in his gruff smoker’s voice with an edge of seldom heard unease, Wayne introduced a conversation, “I read in that yellow book there that babies shouldn’t sleep in the same bed as the parent. Dangerous, with how tired you are, ‘nd all. Should I put her in the crib?”

As gingerly and delicately as one could be when discussing the reality of a child suffocating to a parent who was well aware of the risks, Eddie regarded him with an annoyed expression, and Wayne shut his mouth in apology.

“I’ve gotta do her night routine again, so I’ll be up for a bit.”

“Yep.” A solid statement, and conclusion, to the conversation.

Bending down, Wayne positioned Adrie in the hollow Eddie created for her, and mentioned there were leftovers in the fridge on his way out. He shut the door behind him. It didn’t take long for tiny fists and tinier fingers to find a lock of his hair, and pull it into a drooly mouth. Didn’t take long, either, for his exhaustion to kick in and for the emotions to crash through his walls.

Tears slipped sideways along his features. Cresting over the bridge of his nose, colliding with his other eye, and joining the wetness at his hairline, dotting the bedsheet. He pressed his face to his baby who was too innocent for this world. “Daddy loves you,” he whispered, tasting the word for the first time. Daddy. It didn’t feel right when Steve stepped in as a father figure, but he could acknowledge it now. He was a dad. A momentous occasion followed by, “I’m so sorry you’re mine.” An apology uttered on a wet hiccup—borderline unintelligible—but after coming back to this trailer, and enduring his memories trapped between its thin walls, he promised, words slurring to a constricted squeak in his throat, “Daddy’s gonna get us a nice house, okay? Your own room. Your own bed. Daddy’s gonna do it. Just give me some time, okay? I’ll do it, I swear. Daddy loves you so much. So fucking much.” The promises bred dread even then, living in the pit of his stomach as future disappointments, knowing he would fail.

Perhaps sensing his distress, his little girl used the last of her energy to kick his arm in a fair warning before her face scrunched, and the wet coughs preluding her wail for food began.

He dried his face on the bedsheet. In this moment, it was hard to continue crying when he had another human relying on him. It was time to move on. Time to bury the pain, and move on. Time to neglect himself, and move on. Time to give up, and move on. Kiss her chubby cheeks so fucking much he feared he’d never be able to stop, and move on.

——Now——

Now, he checked the rearview mirror and Adrie was looking back at him, possessing a curious pinch between her brows at his reflection.

“You were kissing Miss Mouse,” she accused and questioned.

“I was,” he confirmed.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, ah,” he filled the pause with another ah while he searched, “It means we’ll be seeing more of each other. She’ll be coming around more, and stuff. Hanging out with us.”

Ever ponderous, ever candid, ever blunt, she asked, “Does that mean she’s my–”

Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasted their eardrums.

Eddie’s fingers slipped over the volume dial by accident—totally by accident—as he reached for the stick shift, turning the music on high and drowning out the last word of her sentence.

—Mom.

No way in hell was he ready for that conversation after the emotionally grueling night he’d had.

“Whoops,” he pretended, “Sorry, couldn’t hear you—but, uh! Hey, do you wanna start our bedtime story early? Should I go with the princess one, or the Sesame Street gang running their own bakery? Hmm.." He drew out his hum until he was in the clear of the Buckley's mailbox, swearing he wasn't the reason it was laying flat in a ditch. "How about we pick up where the princess one left off? So! The firbolgs have declared alliances with Toadstool Kingdom, and.." Throwing it into first gear, Eddie raced home as quickly, but responsibly, as possible, talking non-stop. His parched throat begged for a drink by the time he pulled into the trailer park—a scratchy pain made worse by his nervous chatter in the elusive quiet of his parked car.

He wrapped Adrie in her quilt as best he could while securing her on his hip and booked it through the rain, unlocking the front door and ducking inside right as an unlucky flash of lightning came.

And when nature’s nightlight died, he blinked and blinked at the spots in his vision.

It was unfathomably dark in his living room.

Stumbling over a small shoe in his way, he patted the wall for the lightswitch, and flipped it. And flipped it again. And harassed it some more. Sighing heavily in defeat, he grabbed the giant flashlight on the kitchen counter, and lit the way. "Looks like we're camping tonight." (Their codeword for when the power was knocked out.)

"Okie dokie," she said, ignorant to the cruel world of no pancakes for Sunday breakfast when the electric stovetop was out of commission.

In the meantime, he got them both ready for bed with the added pain of doing it by a single wobbly light source, ready to pass out the second his body sank to the mattress and his head hit the flat pillow—

But of course, Adrie rocked his shoulder incessantly, goading him into giving her attention at her whim, sanity be damned. "Mm?" he grunted, coating the noise in mild annoyance.

"Daddy?" she checked.

The wait for her question grew excruciatingly long.

He almost wasted an eye roll. "Yes, my child?"

"I wish Miss Mouse was here."

Surprised more so by his yawn than the request itself—and then surprised again when his heartbeat remained calm when confronted with the reality of Adrie noticing too much—he struggled to stay awake in his best interest, perhaps giving an inappropriate answer, and unwittingly feeding into her inner wishes, "I do too." He was fading, and quick. The hard rain had returned, droning white noise on the roof, soothing his eyelids closed over the dry sting they drew. Rolling, fighting the stiff sheets tucked around them both, he threw an arm over her before the doom-roll of thunder came. Sweet dreams greeted him in a pair of tiny arms folded to his chest. Brain shutting down. Night, night. Asleep.

"I wish she was my mom."

"Goodnight, Adrie," he stressed.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson smut #the yes policy

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ellecdc · 1 month

Note

heyy Elle, could you please write poly!moonchaser × reader where Remus is hurting physically because of the full moon (either before and after) and reader and James take care of him and comfort him

our sweet moonchaser <333 thanks for your request lovie

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!moonchaser x fem!reader who checks in on them after the moon

This was silly; what were you so afraid of?

Okay, perhaps afraid wasn’t the right word, but the way your hands were sweating and your heart was racing (and your thoughts were spiralling) would suggest otherwise.

You had been with Remus and James for about two months before Remus finally shared his secret with you.

You couldn’t deny that you had a hunch - you’d been friends with the boys for a few years now and were aware that Remus has some kind of affliction that caused him issues approximately once a month that James and the other two Marauders seemed to help him with. That, along with the fact that you were very good at astronomy and tracking moon cycles (which was also very useful in Herbology), it didn’t come as a complete surprise when he admitted to you that he was a werewolf.

You were glad he had told you, and though he had given you the chance then to ask him any questions you may have had, you only told him you were glad he trusted you.

Now, though? Now you wished you had asked more questions.

Like what the hell were you supposed to do after full moons now?

Before he had told you, he would fall ill for about three days around the end of the moon cycle, and though you would see James in class the day after, he would scurry back to his room citing that he didn’t want you to get sick and was going to go check in on Remus.

And that had been fine.

Because like you said, you had a hunch.

But now…

Now that you knew, it seemed rude not to check in on him, right?

It would be rude to wait around for your afflicted boyfriend to come and find you after going through relative hell and back, wouldn’t it?

So…you braved yourself to check in on the boys in the infirmary.

Except Madame Pomfrey had informed you that Remus had been allowed to return to his dorm to rest.

And then you nearly lost your nerve again.

Get it together. You scolded yourself. Those boys would likely love a visit.

And even if they weren’t up for a visit, you had brought some chocolate for Rem; perhaps you could leave them with Sirius or Peter.

You crawled through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room to an unusually (and frankly disturbingly) quiet sight.

Sirius was lounging sloppily on the three-seater sofa with a book in his hands as Peter sat on a cushion by the fire playing a game of exploding snap with Marlene.

“Hey Sirius.” You said quietly as you approached the long-haired boy. He looked up at your voice and his surprised expression turned into a salacious one.

“Hello there gorgeous, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Peter snorted, though he never moved his attention from his game. “You’re lucky Prongs and Moony aren’t down here; you’d have been walloped good for hitting on their girl.”

Sirius scoffed in faux derision. “That’s what they get for kicking me out of my own dorm, Wormy.”

You felt your face blanche at the fact that even Sirius wasn’t allowed upstairs. What would make you any different?

Stupid girl.

“Come to see your boys?” Sirius continued, unawares of your inner turmoil.

“Erm,” You started awkwardly, looking down at the silly box of Honeydukes chocolates in your hand. “I just came to drop this off; maybe you can give it to Rem for me?”

Sirius’ teasing expression softened when he looked down at the box you were holding out to him.

“Sorry doll. Like I said, I’ve been banished. You’d have better luck delivering them yourself.”

You tried (and failed) to hide your grimace as you looked towards the stairs to the boys dorm. “I wouldn’t want to bother them.” You admitted shyly.

“You misunderstand, L/N.” Marlene commented. “He’s a bother.” She explained, pointing a manicured finger accusatively as Sirius. “They’d probably cream their pants if you walked in right now.”

“Ew.” You, Peter, and Sirius chorused.

“She’s right though.” Peter agreed, grimacing at Marlene for her rather uncouth comment before turning to look at you. “Pad’s is the only one who was thoroughly banished from the room; I’m only down here because I didn’t feel like third-wheeling.”

“Yeah, I wonder why he was banished.” Marlene muttered sarcastically as she returned to their card game.

“Why were you banished?” You queried, causing Sirius to roll his eyes.

“They accused me of being a menace.” He drawled; the end of his sentence punctuated by a small explosion on the opposite side of the common room which covered a few third year Gryffindor’s in a fluorescent blue powder.

Sirius - gods love him - didn’t even flinch as he held your eye contact “I never said the accusations were unfounded.”

“Go on; check on your lover boys.” Marlene encouraged, shooting you a wink.

You took in a shaky breath and offered them all a smile before making your way upstairs.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, you knocked gently on the door alerting the boys to your presence before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

You could make out two forms curled up on Remus’ bed. James’ back was turned towards you as his slightly wider frame curled protectively around Remus’.

James turned to look over his shoulder at the disruption with an expression far more stern than you think you’ve ever seen on him, but it softened astronomically when he realised who had entered.

“Hi there!” He whispered brightly, causing Remus to stir. “I was just about to tell Pads to get fucked; this is a nice surprise.” He said as he extricated himself from Remus’ bed and began to make for you.

“Who is it?” Remus’ voice could be heard muffled through the blankets he was holding over his head.

“It’s your dovey, Moons.” James said as he pulled you into his chest and pressed a kiss into your hair.

Remus sat up - likely too quickly in his current state - to see for himself.

“Hi lovie.” He whispered in awe; as if seeing you was some miraculous feat.

“Hi Rem. I’m sorry to bug you, I just wanted to-”

“No!” Both boys interrupted you, causing James to laugh.

“No, you’re no bother; of course not. Com’ere.” He said as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and opened his arms as an invitation for you.

Not needing to be told twice, you accepted his embrace and he pulled you into his lap.

“I won’t stay long.” You whispered up at him as James joined him beside the bed to look down at you.

“Please do.” He whispered back. He looked okay, if not extremely tired; he didn’t seem to have any new scars from what you could see, and he was clearly in good enough spirits to entertain you.

“He’s likely getting tired of spending time with just me.” James explained solemnly.

“He’s a coddler.”

“Are you really?” You asked James.

James rolled his eyes and shook his head good-naturedly. “Listen, once a month I get to fuss over this sweet man; you best believe I take full advantage.”

You hummed in understanding and looked back at Remus. “You’re always so busy taking care of everyone else; it makes sense you wouldn’t know what to do when someone returns the favour.” You explained, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Is that why you’re here, Angel?” James said as he tickled your neck teasingly. “You here to take care of him?”

You pushed his hand away and handed Remus the box of chocolates. “I was just bringing you chocolate.”

Remus looked as though you had just handed him a key to the city and not a measly box of chocolates.

“Thank you dovey.” He said earnestly as he pressed a gentle yet lingering kiss to your lips.

You broke apart at the sound of James snorting.

“‘Just bringing him chocolate’ she says. You’ll be lucky if you see the outside of this dorm room in the foreseeable future.” He proclaimed as he picked you up bridal style out of Remus’ lap eliciting a squeal from your lips and he fell backwards onto the bed, situating the two of you there as Remus shifted back into the bed and curled himself around you.

“Your new job every month is cuddles from now on, ‘kay?” Remus whispered into your ear as James pulled the blankets up around the three of you. You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh through your nose as you nuzzled further into him.

“Sounds good to me.” You agreed readily, accepting another kiss from James as he settled beside you.

You’d take away Remus’ pain in a heartbeat if you could, but if this was all you could do for him instead, well…there were certainly worse ways to spend your time.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #remus lupin x james potter #moonchaser #poly!moonchaser #poly!moonchaser x you #poly!moonchaser x reader #hurt/comfort #fluff #ellecdc fics

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229zmi · 3 months

Text

BLIND DATE

Kuroo Tetsurō/Reader | 1.1k words, fluff, reader is a little clueless at first, based off of this tiktok

“I’m sorry, what? Could you— sorry, could you repeat that?”

At the sound of Kuroo’s cackles echoing throughout the study room (that you had booked for yourself, and then he decided to invade it after spotting you through the window), you shake your head, feeling the regret creep up your neck like smoke rising from flames. Still, he continues to offer half-assed apologies in between abrupt laughs, as if that’ll soothe your embarrassment in any way.

“You heard me the first time.” You scowl when he opens his mouth to deny it, feigning cluelessness with a dumbfounded look on his face. “And your sense of humour sucks by the way. It wasn’t that funny.”

“But it is. You really want me, out of all the people, to set you up with someone?” He grins, twirling a pen around his fingers. Inwardly, you wish for the pen to suddenly fly out of control, for him to finally have a moment of failure that will eventually spiral into his downfall in the hopefully near future (a few seconds from now), but it never happens.

“Just one date,” you say, with venom preemptively hanging from the tip of your tongue in case you need to further defend yourself.

However, he surprises you when all he does is lean back in his chair instead of bursting into a fit of laughter again. His eyebrows furrow in thought, and the pen stills in his hand; he sets it down atop his notebook.

“I know someone who has a small crush on you,” he tells you after a beat. You straighten at the newfound information, suddenly interested.

“Really? Are they a friend of yours? Who is it?”

Kuroo — that bastard — shakes his head, now sporting a smug smile as he crosses his arms. “That’s classified information, I’m afraid.”

You groan. “You can’t just say that and not tell me who it is! C’mon, can you at least give me a hint?”

“Sure. What kind of hint?”

Your question hurtles toward him at lightning speed, only half-joking. “Are they rich?”

Waving his finger disapprovingly, he reprimands you, “Such a shallow question. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Yeah, well, are they?”

“Can’t say he is. He’s a college student, same university and year as us,” he says, and you act devastated over the news, slapping a dramatic hand over your chest. It’s too bad your dreams of becoming someone’s sugar baby have been crushed so tragically like this, though you suppose there are other important factors to consider as well.

“Is he—?”

“Hey, you said a hint, not multiple hints.”

“Oh, shut it. Is he hot?”

“Very,” he confirms, so quickly that it’s almost suspicious. You eye him warily, to which he shrugs. “What? Birds of a feather flock together, or something like that.”

“Yeah, okay. So he’s butt-ugly, then, by association with you.” At that, Kuroo kicks your knee as you snicker to yourself.

“You know that by saying that, you’re also calling yourself butt-ugly. Plus, I’m doing you a grand favour, and this is what I get in return?” A long sigh escapes him. “Absolutely nothing but insults. Unbelievable.”

“You’re such a baby.”

“Nothing but insults,” he repeats.

You roll your eyes. There’s no winning with him. “Fine, then. I’ll lend you my old statistics textbook. You’re taking Intro to Stats next semester, right?”

“Yup.” He smiles, and you know you’ve got yourself a deal. “I’ll text you the location and time as soon as possible.”

Disappointingly enough, your date is late.

Kuroo, however, is right on time.

You narrow your eyes at him, glancing at the outfit he’s got on. You’re used to him wearing sweatpants and hoodies with holes in the sleeves every time you see him, but today, he’s put something unusually nice on, although you’re not entirely sure why. You’re also not sure why he’s here, outside of the café and at the exact time he told you your date had agreed to meet you.

“Where’s my date?” you ask before looking around for the umpteenth time to check if he’s arrived yet. However, your movement is stopped when Kuroo gently places a hand under your chin, guiding your focus back to him.

A sly grin reveals itself; his hazel eyes twinkle beneath the glow of the café’s hanging fairy lights.

“Right here. I’m your date.”

You frown, still puzzled. “What? But you said a few days ago, you were gonna set me up with someone who—“

Wait a minute.

Oh, you realise.

Then, you shut your eyes tightly, turning away from him.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight chuckle in his voice that he doesn’t even attempt to hide, obviously entertained by your actions. He steps to the side to see your face, but you turn away again. “Hey, is my hair really that ugly? I tried combing it down like a gazillion times this morning, I swear.”

“No, just—” You stick your arm out, and Kuroo holds onto it awkwardly, both concerned for you and unsure of what he’s supposed to do. “Pinch me, please. I think I’m dreaming.”

“Oh. You’re not dreaming,” he assures you, opting to instead rest his hands on your shoulders, yet it’s pointless in getting you to look at him. Stubborn as always, he thinks fondly.

“That’s exactly what someone in my dreams would say.”

“Ah, I see. So, I’m the man of your dreams?”

Bingo. Picturing himself doing a victory dance in his head, Kuroo watches you open your eyes to glare at him for his remark. His celebration is short-lived, though, because in a matter of seconds, you’re quick to point out, “You’re blushing.”

Rubbing a hand over his cheek as if to erase the pinkish hue, he denies the observation. “I’m not.”

“You are.” You feel all giddy inside, with your heart feeling like it’s about to leap out of your chest, walk inside the café, and buy a cup of coffee. You’re worried a gooey mess of feelings is what’s going to spill onto the pavement if you so much as speak too quickly, so your question comes out tentative, like a butterfly’s wings fluttering in the wind, “And… you like me?”

That, he cannot deny. But there’s a poor attempt at it anyway. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I said a small crush.”

“Really?”

“Really.” A pause. Then, he adds sheepishly, “Well, maybe it’s a little more than that.”

Your expression breaks into a grin at the confession, but before you can tease him any more for the blush that has now spread to the back of his neck, he pulls the door to the café open and uses his free hand to gesture towards the interior, bowing his head slightly.

“For my lovely date,” he says, looking up just to wink at you. Whether this is actually to charm you or just to distract you from his embarrassment, you can’t tell.

Nevertheless, as cheesy as it is, you decide to play along, intertwining your fingers through his and extending your gratitude to him for his chivalrous act before pulling him along as you head inside.

notes: another kuroo fic 4 the Kuroo kissers ♥︎ tumblr user @kyoghurts i hope u like it teehee

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #229ZMI

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alexias-putellas · 2 months

Text

somebody to you // o.batlle x engen!reader

o.batlle x engen!reader

based on this request!

this didn’t turn out as fluffy as i originally planned but i think there’s still a healthy amount.

featuring some google translated norwegian and spanish so apologies for any mistakes.

when ona first laid eyes on you, she thought you were ingrid. your dark hair was in a ponytail and your back was to the spaniard but she recognised the norwegian accent when you spoke to another member of the medical team.

so when ingrid finally arrived at the training grounds, ona was understandably confused. but her confusion didn’t last long as mapi dragged you into the lockeroom, announcing that you were the newest member of the medical team and that you must be referred to as doctor engen at all times.

ona immediately took note of the way you swatted at mapi’s hands, stuttering out that they most certainly did not need to call you that, as your cheeks turned redder by the second. she then watched as your eyes flickered around the room, your entire body relaxing once you’d spotted the familiar faces of frido and caro.

you rushed over, throwing your arms around them both. it was only then that ona realised that whilst you and ingrid had very similar faces, you were not very well matched in the height department. both frido and caro towered over you, as did your sister, and it was something none of them ever let you forget.

“vamos, chiqui!” you heard mapi exclaim before her hands were on your shoulders. “you must meet everyone!”

even though ona had never met you before, by the time you’d reached her, she could tell that you’d had enough so she settled for a wave and a warm smile. and the relief that settled on your face was perfect. and you scampered out of the room before mapi get her hands on you again.

the next day, you had approached ona, apologising for being rude and ignoring her. you weren’t really sure what it was about ona but the way she smiled and reassured you that it was okay, had you realising that there was something about her. something different.

so when ona offered to show you around barcelona, you instantly agreed, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach and waving to her as she headed off to get ready for training.

“what was that?”

you turned your head, narrowing your eyes at mapi. “what was what?”

“that.” she said simply, waving her hand around the space between you where ona had previously stood.

“oh, ona offered to show me around.”

“i was supposed to do that.”

you shrugged. “not anymore.”

needless to say, ingrid was shocked when mapi had informed her of your plans. due to your shyness, you had been miserable at the last club you worked at. the players there often mistook your shyness for rudeness, meaning they rarely interacted with you unless absolutely necessary.

making friends never came easily to you, not everyone was patient enough to wait around for you to grow comfortable and as a child, ingrid was your only true friend. shyness had plagued you since birth and whilst your experiences with it shaped you as a person, you’d become an extrovert any day if you were given a chance since they always seemed to have the most friends.

at first you assumed that everyone was only being nice to you because of ingrid and the last name you carried, because they didn’t want to make things awkward for her by being rude to her little sister.

and even a week later when you and ona finally found time to see the city, these thoughts plagued your mind and you felt yourself spiralling. everytime ona spoke to fill the silence, you panicked because you obviously weren’t speaking as much as you should be. but when you did speak, you stumbled over your words, spoke too fast, and half the time you didn’t know what to say.

so in your mind, the entire day was a massive failure. and at some point during your time together, you realised how much you actually liked ona. and maybe that’s what made you worse. but you knew that you’d ruined it and when she pulled up outside ingrid and mapi’s apartment building, you politely said goodbye before heading inside as quickly as possible.

“hola, chiqui!” you heard mapi shout as you closed the apartment door behind you. she appeared a minute later, a cup of steaming coffee in her hands. she frowned when she finally looked at you. “er du ok?”

the tears you’d been holding back fell like a waterfall and you ran into the spare bedroom that you had been occupying since arriving in barcelona.

you had always envied ingrid’s likability and along with that, her relationship with mapi. they were so happy and in love that you almost hated them for it. almost.

no one had ever loved you. most certainly not enough to ever learn your native language. and you weren’t sure that anyone ever would.

your sobs soon turned to shaky breaths and you pushed yourself up on the bed when you heard the bedroom door creak. through teary eyes, you watched mapi slowly push the door open, arms filled with various snacks as bagheera wandered in behind her.

“ingrid is not back yet,” she told you, making sure bagheera wasn’t in the way before kicking the door shut. “we do not have to talk but if you want to, i am here, vale?”

you nodded silently, picking bagheera up once he’d gotten close enough to the bed as mapi got comfortable next to you, dropping the snacks between you both. you eagerly reached for one of the norwegian snacks ingrid had insisted on buying in for you.

“is everything okay?” mapi asked after a while of silence and seeing you glance at your phone a few times. “did ona do something?”

you shook your head. “no, no, ona was perfect. i—i was the problem. i think that she might think that i am weird.”

“maybe she did not notice the things you did,” mapi shrugged and you looked at her. “when we first met, i did not think you were weird. you were shy, sí, but not weird. i did not notice the way you acted until you pointed it out to me, maybe it is the same with ona.”

ᡣ𐭩

mapi’s words rang through your head the next day as you sat on the sidelines of alexia’s individual training session, your eyes drifting over to where the rest of the team were training every now and again to admire ona.

little did you know that she was doing the same thing. except she was watching with bubbling jealousy at every laugh you let out and how easily your hands freely roamed alexia’s leg as you assisted her stretches.

but she swallowed her feelings since you were just doing your job and she was desperate to keep the girls in the dark. especially ingrid. so ona turned her attention back to training and managed to successfully keep you at the back of her mind.

you however had struggled to do so and alexia’s teasing had been relentless. between the end of training and leaving the building, she’d somehow roped mapi into it as well.

“i was not staring!” you protested quietly to the two older women as you walked towards the cars. “i was just checking that she was not hurt.”

they stared at you blankly and the blush on your cheeks deepened. mapi nudged your side and nodded over at something. “well maybe you should go check that she is still coming tonight.”

you muttered a few norwegian curse words under your breath but walked towards ona anyway, ignoring the snickers from the spaniards behind you. and the way ona smiled at you when you stopped in front of you had butterflies flying around your stomach and it took you a minute to realise that she was actually speaking to you.

“sorry, i wasn’t actually listening.” you said quietly, face flushing again as she laughed softly.

“i was asking if you were okay yesterday, you seemed jumpy in the car.”

“oh! no, yes, i was fine. it was–it was nothing,” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before pointing over your shoulder. “mapi is doing a number check for tonight, she wanted me to ask if you are still coming.”

ona nodded. “i am.”

“greit. i guess i will see you tonight then.”

much to your dismay, the rest of the day seemed to last forever. and when the time for the girls to come over finally rolled around, you were a giant ball of nerves although you weren’t really sure why.

and for everytime ingrid or mapi answered the door to someone who wasn’t ona, you could feel yourself physically deflating. of course you greeted everyone with a smile but you struggled to hide your disappointment so you hid in the kitchen, busying yourself with preparing the snacks.

around ten minutes later, you heard someone enter the kitchen. before you could look at who it was, they pinched your waist and laughed at your yelp.

“mapi!” you hissed, rubbing at your skin and glaring at her. “gå vekk!”

“tu novia está aquí,” she whispered to you, jumping out of the way as you swung for her. “so you can stop being grumpy now.”

“i repeat, maría, gå vekk. go away. irse.”

she held her hands up in surrender and backed out of the kitchen. you moved to carry on transferring the chocolate chip cookies from the baking tray to the plate, humming quietly to yourself.

once you’d finished, you picked up the plate, and turned around. only to bump straight into someone. you gasped, your grip tightening as another pair of hands steadied you.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t hear you come in,” you said quickly, glancing up then doing a double-take when you saw who it was. “you almost ruined the cookies.”

“lo siento,” ona smirked as you playfully glared at her. “you bake?”

“i had a lot of free time in norway and i wanted a productive hobby,” you shrugged. “i made ingrid’s birthday cake once.”

“kirsebær, where are the cookies?!” you heard mapi cry dramatically before ona could say anything. you watched in amusement as mapi re-entered the kitchen, inching her way towards you. “i have been waiting all week for these, give them here.”

you rolled your eyes but handed the cookies over to mapi, who scampered away before you could change your mind. you motioned for ona to follow you and chose to ignore the way mapi grinned at you as you realised the only two spots left were next to each other. with a another glare sent mapi’s way, you sat down and for the second time that day, ignored the butterflies in your stomach at how close you and ona were once again.

as the night progressed, you grew more relaxed and comfortable with the team, but your face still flushed bright red at the flurry of compliments you got for your baking skills.

“she is just so talented.” mapi cooed, reaching over to pinch at your cheeks.

you glared at her and slapped at her hands, poking your tongue out as ingrid told her off. at that point, the early morning you’d had was starting to creep up on you and about halfway through the movie jana had chosen, you could feel the exhaustion taking over your body.

without thinking, you rested your head on ona’s shoulder, feeling her tense up almost immediately. just as you were about to move away and apologise, she slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

if you weren’t already half asleep, you probably would’ve noticed the way ona kept glancing at ingrid. but your sister was far too engrossed in the movie and it really wasn’t unusual for the team to be affectionate with each other. and as ona looked around, she realised that no one was actually paying attention to the two of you.

bagheera jumped onto your lap then, waking you up just enough for you to move your hand to stroke him and for you to realise that ona was drawing patterns along the sliver of skin that was showing on your lower back. you resisted the urge to push her hand further up and chose to nuzzle a little further into her, sighing quietly in content.

ᡣ𐭩

as the weeks flew by and you settled more and more into your new life at barcelona, the more time you spent with the team and with ona. and somewhere along the way, you’d decided that having ona in your life as a friend was better than not having her in it at all.

so you buried your growing feelings for her, shaking your head whenever mapi insisted that ona felt the same way, that she was so sure of it. whilst you desperately wanted to believe it, you just couldn’t. ona was pretty, popular, and funny. you were just ingrid’s little sister and you had been for your entire life. nobody ever chose you.

“i think you should tell her.” alexia said quietly, pulling you from your thoughts. you withdrew your hand from her knee, letting her manoeuvre her leg into the next stretch.

you glanced over your shoulder to see ona stood with pina and patri, the three of them laughing at something. “why? i am happy with being her friend, i do not want to ruin anything.”

alexia frowned but seeing the look on your face, decided not to say anything else. the rest of the session was completed in relative silence, something that hadn’t happened in a while.

later that night, you declined ingrid’s invitation to join her and mapi at the new restaurant down the road.

“are you sure?” she asked for what felt like the millionth time as she slipped her shoes on.

“yes, i’m sure,” you laughed quietly. “i really do not want to third wheel and i invited ona over anyway.”

ingrid froze before approaching you slowly, standing behind where you sat on the sofa. your eyes fluttered shut as she ran her fingers gently though your hair. “i am glad you have her, elskling.”

“me too.” you whispered, smiling as ingrid leaned down and kissed your hair.

“don’t wait up for us,” she told you. “ona can stay the night if she wants.”

“yes but you must behave!” mapi called from somewhere else in the apartment. “all activities must be rated pg!”

“oh my god, maría, cállate!” you snapped, attempting to stand up only to have ingrid push you back down.

“please do not kill my girlfriend,” she whispered before turning around. “maría, we have talked about this, please leave my sister alone!”

you could hear mapi snickering and looked back at ingrid. “if you do not want me to kill her then you should leave right now.”

she ran her fingers through your hair again and as soon as mapi walked in, dragged her out and then you were alone. well, for a minute or two.

you could hear talking and then the door opened again, mapi’s voice ringing through the empty space. “ona’s here, kirsebær!”

with a roll of your eyes, you pushed yourself off the sofa and made your way to the front door. you greeted ona with a smile and slammed the door in mapi’s grinning face.

“i brought food,” ona said and you turned around. “pizza is your favourite, right?”

you blinked quickly, feeling your face heat up. “uh, y–yeah, it is. um, follow me. i don’t know about you but i am starving.”

within five minutes, you and ona were sat on the sofa, the pizza box warm on your lap as a telenovela played on the tv in the background. you were halfway through your second slice when you noticed ona looking at you.

“what?” you asked, wiping at the corners of your mouth in case of any lingering sauce.

much to your surprise, ona’s face flushed the same shade of pink that yours usually would. you turned to hide your smile, realising that you’d caught the spaniard staring at you. you knew that if it was the other way around and ona caught you staring at her, you’d be dying of embarrassment so you let it be.

time always seemed to fly whenever you were with ona and more often than not, the two of you got caught up in whatever you’re doing and never checked the time.

and that night was no different.

it was around halfway through the third movie when you finally checked your phone, eyes widening at the time. you promptly shoved it in ona’s face as well, gaining the same reaction.

“you are not driving home,” was the first thing you said, pushing yourself up. “you can stay tonight but we must make our escape now. ingrid and mapi probably won’t be much longer and mapi will not leave us alone if she finds us so vamos.”

it wasn’t the first time ona had spent the night so when you got into your room, you handed her the spare clothes she’d left behind and headed into the bathroom to give her a bit of privacy and change yourself.

when you re-entered, you found ona looking down at a picture frame, the grinning faces of you and ingrid as kids staring back up at her, the two of you sporting matching norway football kits.

“why don’t you play?” she asked as you walked towards her, gently taking the frame from her hands.

“i was not very good,” you admitted. “i am not as graceful as ingrid. i tried to kick a ball and fell over it. and when i did get the hang of kicking the ball, i almost broke ingrid’s nose so mamma banned me from ever kicking one again.”

“i think she made the right choice,” ona laughed and you put the picture frame back. “you must miss them. your family.”

you shrugged slightly, turning on the tv and flicking through netflix. “of course i do but honestly i missed ingrid more.”

there was a look on your face that ona had never seen before so she quickly dropped the subject, pointed out a good movie and all but dragged you down into the bed next to her.

the skin on your thigh tingled where it was pressed against hers, your stomach flipped everytime she laughed at something in the movie, and when she slipped her hand into yours and entwined your fingers, you were surprised you didn’t explode. and in that moment it hit you like a ton of bricks.

you were inexplicably in love with ona.

and you didn’t really know what to do with that information. especially when you weren’t really sure how the spaniard felt about you. all you had was the insistence of mapi and alexia. but that wasn’t anything really, they didn’t know for sure. did they?

ona squeezed your hand, noticing that familiar look etched onto your face, a look that meant you were getting lost in your thoughts again. you hummed slightly, turning your attention to her and immediately regretting it.

you swallowed thickly. ona’s face was mere inches from yours and you could hear mapi’s voice in your head, screaming at you to kiss her. and when you noticed the spaniard’s eyes flicker to your lips, you felt a sliver of confidence.

so before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned in and closed the gap, connecting your lips sweetly. it only lasted for a few seconds. the realisation of what was happening had you pulling you away, an apology at the tip of your tongue as you searched her eyes in case you did anything wrong. but just as quick, ona’s hand was cupping your jaw and pulling you straight back in.

it was a dream. you had to be dreaming. you’d fallen asleep and were having the best dream ever, that’s what you told yourself. and that’s what you let yourself believe until you felt ona tugging at your waist. your heart pounded in your chest as she pulled you onto her lap, your arms wrapping around her neck to pull her as close as you possibly could.

a fluttery feeling in your stomach grew with every movement of your lips and just as you started to move your hips to get the friction you so desperately needed, the front door flew open, crashing into the wall.

mapi’s drunken giggles and ingrid’s harsh whispers filled the quiet apartment as you quickly clambered to lay next to ona. her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at you in confusion until the door handle started moving.

the door opened ever so slightly but was closed just as quickly, the sound of ingrid quietly scolding mapi in norwegian making you giggle.

“what is she saying?” ona asked you in a hushed whisper.

“nothing interesting, just telling maría to leave us alone.” you whispered back.

the spaniard hummed and the two of you laid in silence for a few moments before she was reaching out to grab at your wrist. “ven aquí.”

you rolled over, throwing your arm over her stomach and resting your head in the crook of her neck, letting the tiredness take over you without much of a fight.

when you woke up the next morning, you panicked for a second feeling something pressed right up against your back. but then you remembered everything that had happened and suddenly the presence was a welcomed one.

you cracked an eye open to see ona’s phone a few inches from your face, her head resting just above yours as she scrolled through her instagram.

“bon dia,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your head after you groaned softly. “we should do something today.”

you hummed, eyes fluttering shut as you nuzzled into your pillow. “ask me out after, s’too early.”

ona laughed and kissed your head again, moving her free hand to stroke your hair. within seconds you had drifted back off.

ingrid’s voice is what woke you up about half an hour later. the bed next to you dipped and you groaned again. hearing ingrid laugh, you reached out blindly, wafting your hand around until you smacked her leg.

“always a morning person, aren’t you elskling?” she teased and you kicked at her this time.

“go away ingrid, m’tryna sleep.” you muttered.

“no. we all have a day off and the weather is beautiful, we are going out for breakfast. all of us.” your sister’s voice held a tone of finality that you couldn’t argue with.

“okay,” you whined slightly, leaning forward to push at her. “bare kom deg ut.”

ingrid held her hands up and quickly slipped out of the room. you sighed in relief at the fact that she was gone and the fact that it could’ve been mapi who had proposed the idea.

it didn’t take a lot of coaxing for ona to get you out of bed. with the promise of a kiss as soon as you were ready, you jumped up and ona watched in amusement as you practically sprinted around, re-emerging from the bathroom about ten minutes later fully dressed and wide awake.

you wasted little time taking her up on her promise, pressing your lips against hers as soon as she stood up from your bed. a knock on the door made you pull apart, a small huff escaping you.

“vamos, tortolitos!” mapi chirped through the wood. “i am hungry.”

you rolled your eyes but grabbed your phone, passing ona hers before swinging the door open. mapi opened her mouth but ingrid yanked her away, not letting her say anything to you.

ona wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you along behind them. thankfully, they chose the cute little cafe down the road, a five minute walk from the apartment.

somewhere along the way, ingrid and ona had taken the lead, chatting happily as you ended up stuck with mapi, who grinned at you smugly. “i told you so.”

“shut up maría.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine

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myfictionaldreams · 9 months

Note

I saw your post about poly marauders x reader inspo. What about angst and fluff where the reader is working really hard and doesn't take care of herself? She ends up fainting, hitting her head and having a seizure. (This is common for me.) The boys freak out and rush her to the infirmary. Maybe they take her back after she's given the all-clear and take care of her.

-🐍

Working Hard // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

A/N: hello, thank you so much for this request! I hope I've been able to write the information about seizures ok, I personally don't have them so was worried I'd get the information wrong but hopefully, this is alright!

Tags: angst, fluff, fainting, head injury, seizures, not looking after yourself, anxiety/crying, emotional hurt, protective marauders, cuddling/kissing etc.

Words: k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The library was fairly vacant of students as it approached the evening time, not that you’d noticed. At one swift glance, anyone could have seen the state of disarray that you were in. Ink stained your fingers and clothes, the whites of your eyes were bloodshot and dry from the lack of blinking, sweat on your brow and hair unkept from the number of times you’d brushed it out of your eyes.

Not to mention the disorganised surroundings you were sitting in with multiple stacks of books covering the desk space with different length parchment paper, ink pots and a single quill also messing up the area.

“How long has she been like this?”, Sirius asked Lily, concern etching deep into his face as he’d just arrived at the library following his day of lessons. Lily briefly looked up at Sirius with the same look of worry on her face from where she sat at a different desk, having been there most of the day just to keep an eye on you as she knew you were slowly spiralling into madness.

“She’s been like this since this morning. I’ve tried to convince her to have a break but she just wants to finish the work. I’m kind of getting worried about her, she hasn’t stopped in hours and keeps pushing my glasses of water away saying she’ll have it later but she’s yet to have any”, Lily explained to Sirius who was now clenching the strap of his school bag so tightly in his hands that his knuckles turned a ghastly shade of white.

“Thanks, Evans, I’ll stay with her don’t worry”, Sirius explained, patting his friend on the shoulder as she stood, having packed her bags ages ago but was reluctant to leave you on your own. “If you see Moony or Prongs, could you tell them where we are please?”

“No worries, I hope you can get through to her”.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head hard enough that his shoulder-length, silky hair flew in all directions as he walked over to your desk. You didn’t so much as flinch when the chair next to you scrapped along the stone floor as he dumped his bag onto the floor.

As he began to talk to you, he kept his voice calm, not wanting to frighten you out of the deep focus you were in. “Darling? Is everything alright?” When you again didn’t respond to having heard his arrival, he reached across and took the quill out of your fierce grip. This snapped you out of your trance as your head whipped in his direction, body jumping in a startle at finding one of your boyfriends casually sitting next to you. Your heart was already racing before the jump scare are you looked between Sirius and the quill you so desperately needed.

“What are you doing? I’m not finished my work yet Sirius and I am not in the mood to mess around, I just want to get it finished”, you demanded to him, reaching out with a trembling hand that had Sirius’ worries increasing.

“What was the last time that you even ate anything? Or had a drink of water?” Sirius asked whilst continuing to hold your quill out of your reach.

Shaking your head in annoyance, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, a couple of hours ago maybe, I can remember. Now please, can I have my quill back!”

Sirius looked at the mess on the desk surrounding you, “Honey, this assignment isn’t even due for another week. You’ve got plenty of time to finish it another day but you need to look after yourself. Let’s have a little break, maybe go and get something to eat and drink and then depending on how you’re feeling, we could potentially finish this later”.

The marauder spoke calmly and slowly, taking in all the signs of your declining health. There were only a few occasions where you had been like this, neglecting to look after yourself and it usually ended with you crying from exhaustion or sleeping a whole day away feeling ill so he needed to be a good protector and make sure this didn’t get any worse but he feared that it was already at that stage anyway with how reluctant you were to listen to his advice.

“No, you aren’t listening to me! I don’t need any of that right now, I just need to finish this today because there’s still the potions assignment due in two days and I need to plot this week's stars for astronomy. There’s also the herbology that I haven’t even started yet so I don’t have time to go for your breaks! Just give it back to me Sirius!” As you were beginning to raise your voice, you caught the attention of the handful of other students who were studying. Sirius didn’t react to being shouted at, especially as it was never something you’d done before, he knew he was getting to the point of no return and was unsure just what it was that he was supposed to do. Let you carry on? Force feed you a snack and make you have a break but then would that anger you more?

Thankfully backup had arrived in the form of Remus and James. “What’s going on here?” the taller Marauder asked, his scarred face flicking back and forth between Sirius and where you were glaring at him.

“We were just about to have a little break”, Sirius began to explain with caution but you were quick to interrupt.

“No we aren’t Sirius! I’m fine, just let me continue other I’ll forget what I’m going to write!”. You were breathing heavily now, like you’d just run up a flight of stairs and Sirius couldn’t tell if it was because of your anger or just another symptom of how worn down you were getting.

It looked like you were close to a panic attack with the way you were reacting irrationally and the two Marauders that were standing took a protective step forward, placing their bags onto the floor.

“My Love”, James spoke carefully, “just take a deep breath for us, okay? We’ll just have a small break and then we’ll help you finish this assignment”.

Your hateful gaze turned to him, “I don’t need help James”.

The way you spoke didn’t falter him in any way as he continued, “Why don’t we just quickly get a drink of water and some fresh air and then we can come back-”

“Don’t talk to me like a child James, I know my limits. I’m just studying, I’m fine, I just need to finish this, but you’re all prolonging it!” You glared at all three of them, not thinking clearly at all and when Sirius once again held the quill away from you, you snapped. “You know what? Fine. Keep the quill. I’ve got plenty more in my dormitory which luckily doesn’t let guys in so I can continue this in some peace and quiet.”

You gathered as many books as possible into a messy pile, bundling them into your arms, along with your parchment paper.

“Wait, Sweetheart, just give us a moment-”. Sirius began reaching forward as you stood abruptly.

One minute you were taking a step forward and then next, it felt like the floor was moving, your eyes unfocused as the books dropped to the floor, swiftly followed by your body as you fainted, accidentally knocking your temple on the corner of your desk as you fell.

Remus, James and Sirius all lurched forward trying to soften your fall but to no avail, as they all watched you hit your head and collapse to the floor However the panic didn’t end there as your body began to convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you didn’t respond to shouts.

“Shit! Go and get Madam Pomfrey!”, James demanded to Sirius who was out of his chair and sprinting within a second as a crowd began to form of scared students. This didn’t stop James though as he remained calm, kneeling next to your head but holding out a hand for Remus, “Hand me your jumper”. Remus pulled the clothing over his head and handed it to his boyfriend who balled it up and gently placed it under your head. “It’s ok baby, it’s going to be ok, it’ll be over soon, you’re safe, everything with be alright”.

With each word that he spoke, he remained calm, even managing to loosen your tie so that it didn’t restrict your breathing as you eventually calmed with your convulsions and remained unmoving on the floor, breathing heavily.

“Remus, help me roll her onto her side”, he asked the man who was also on his knees next to you, looking paler than usual. He followed James’ movements until you were lying in the recovery position, your hair carefully being moved out of your face so that they could assess your head injury as well. Thankfully there was no cut or blood but the area had already begun to swell into a small bump.

Remus shook his head, trying to process anything that had just happened as he then gazed towards James. “How…how did you know what to do?”

“My mum had seizures, usually she takes some potions to stop them from happening but on rare occasions they still do so she and Dad have taught me what to do if they were to happen, It’s not like I’ve done much anyway”. James looked you over, as Remus shook his head in disbelief, feeling guilty that he hadn’t come and found you at an earlier time but just assumed you were doing your usual revision in the library.

Sirius soon arrived with Madam Pomfrey who did her own assessment and praised James for the bits of care that he provided like putting you into the recovery position. You were then moved to the Hospital wing where you remained asleep for the next 12 hours which is what you needed, lots of rest and sleep.

When you did eventually awake, the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains and you were disorientated and confused, being in an unknown area and alone, not remembering how or why you’d gotten there.

Thankfully the Matron was already working and hovering nearby so was able to come over and explain the events that had occurred whilst making sure you drank the numerous healing potions she’d decided you needed. With each glug of the horrible tasting, colourful concoctions, you could feel life beginning to pour back into your body, no longer feeling dehydrated or shaky, however, there was still some memory loss but she explained that was the side effect of the seizure. Your stomach twisted with guilt at not prioritising your health which was also the same sentiment expressed by Madam Pomfrey as she gave you a talking too as well about looking after yourself and making sure to take regular breaks, having food and drink nearby during long study sessions.

Finally, after she declared that you were safe to leave but only if you returned to the dormitory to rest for the next few days, she explained that James, Sirius and Remus had been by your side until late at night. Each of them outright refused to leave your side but as they all fell into their own emotional and physical exhaustion, Madam Pomfrey called for McGonagall who helped to send them to their beds.

The guilt now only increased tenfold at the thought of how worried they must have been. The Matron tried to encourage you to not worry about those emotions for now, but to go and rest and that you’d need to return every morning for additional potions and investigations for the seizure.

Every step towards the Gryffindor common room, nerves bubbled in your stomach, wondering if you should follow the woman's advice and just go to your own dormitory and sleep the day away or knock on the Marauders’ room and discuss what had happened.

Thankfully for your exhausted mind, you didn’t need to decide as soon as you entered the homely common room, the three of them were already rushing down the stairs, dressed in their casual clothes and looking like they were about to run somewhere. They were all startled to see you standing there, relief and worry expressed on each of their faces, along with dark circles under their eyes from the lack of sleep.

Hating the uncomfortable silence, you nervously twisted your fingers together, glancing at the floor, unable to hold their burning eye contact anymore. “Madam Pomfrey said I was okay to leave but said I needed to get some rest”.

Another wave of relief rushed through your boyfriends as they each visibly dropped the tension from their shoulders as they stepped forward. “How are you feeling?”, Remus asked carefully, not being able to watch your nervous twitches anymore as he grabbed your fingers and linked both of your hands with his.

“I feel fine”, you answered honestly, looking guilty up at them still through your lashes.

“What about your head?”, Sirius continued the question, standing to your left and stroking the strand of hair away from the area that he’d seen hit the corner of your desk.

“It doesn’t hurt at all but Pomfrey said those sorts of injuries are easy for her to fix anyway. I um, I don’t actually remember what happened, or even from the last few days but everything else is better, my head doesn’t hurt at all”.

James was the last to approach to your right and you were thankful to see a loving smile on his handsome face as he pushed the rim of his glasses up his nose whilst asking, “And what about the seizures?”

“She said they could happen again but it was mostly triggered because I hadn’t eaten, drank or slept properly and that I needed to be careful in the future. I think it’s something that I had dealt with in my childhood as I remember my mum saying that I used to have some sort of seizures but it’s been so long that I didn’t think it was an issue anymore. She also told me about what you did James and I just… I can’t thank you enough and I’m so so sorry for putting you all through this”. Your eyes were full of tears that quickly escaped and flowed down your cheeks.

James couldn’t watch you cry and rushed to wrap his arms around your body, cupping the back of your head to hold you against his warm, firm chest. Remus and Sirius also managed to join the cuddle. The three of them didn’t expect any sort of apology from you, the anger that had been there initially for you not looking after yourself had swiftly changed to worry and fear so just making sure you were okay was their only goal.

“Shh Sweetheart, please don’t cry. We’re just glad you’re safe. You scared us so much, all I could think about last night was having you in my arms again”, Remus calmed your cries down as he kissed your shoulder, trying not to unload too much of his worries onto you.

The three of them held you for long enough that other students began to wake and enter the common room, rushing past so as to not ruin the sentimental moment. As your sobs turned into hiccups and the tears stopped staining Sirius’ shirt, the long-haired Marauder pulled away to cup your cheeks. “Come on, it’ll do us all no good crying in the middle of the common room and you’re supposed to be resting and to be honest I think we could all do with a rest so let's go upstairs”.

Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you smiled and accepted his outstretched hand, his much larger palm engulfing yours as he gently tugged you along to the boys’ room. The sight of the magically enlarged bed only increased your exhaustion as your body seemed to slump with the need to crawl beneath the sheets.

Before you could do as you wished whilst still wearing your day clothes, James stepped behind, his arms around your waist and held you for a second, swaying slightly on the spot as he dipped to kiss your cheek. “Do you want my jumper? Might be more comfortable than what you’re wearing?” he asked with hope in his voice and you knew he always loved seeing you in his clothes.

Turning in his arms and stroking your fingers through his hair to brush it out of his face you nodded tiredly, “Yes please!”

James grinned, pecking your lips before swiftly pulling his jumper off and then helping you to underdress down to your underwear and helping you into his jumper. Remus and Sirius were already down to their boxers and in bed, Sirius in the centre with his arms open and you smiled in relief, crawling over his body and settling on top of his chest. Everything seemed to fall into place as James followed behind you and lay next to Sirius, all three of their arms wrapping around you like a weighted blanket and a breath later all four of you were asleep.

When you woke next, it was because something was tickling your nose. Squinting open your eyes, you were welcomed to the sight of Sirius’ silky hair completely covering your face and his warm breath only an inch away from yours. Laughing under your breath, being careful not to wake the Marauder, you brushed the strands out of yours and his face, tucking it behind his ear.

As your fingers settled back cuddled into your chest, Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed followed by him groaning and bringing your fingers back up to his hair. You giggled louder now as you began to play with his hair and scratch your nails against his scalp, loving the sweet smile on his pretty-boy face.

“You know Pads, asking her to pet you, isn’t what I’m sure Madam Pomfrey classed as resting”, James mused from across the room, no longer by your side. Peaking open your eyes once more, you lifted your head as Sirius flipped off James who was sitting across the room, playing with his gold snitch with a pile of food waiting beside him.

“Is that pancakes?” you asked hopefully, sitting up further by pushing off of Sirius’ chest. Remus who was also still resting on the bed perked up at his, opening one eye and rolling over, his hair sticking up in all directions nearly as dramatically as James’ as he looked for the food.

“It is indeed, and there’s also toast, sausages, eggs, bacon, fruit, anything you might need”.

The four of you repositioned on the bed, leaving space in the middle to carefully lay the trays of food that James had managed to steal from the kitchens and all ate until stomachs were full and happy.

“What time is it?”, Sirius asked, still trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

“Just after lunch, so we’ve only slept for a few hours but seeing as we missed breakfast I thought it might be a good idea to get some food into our systems”.

“Thanks, Prongs”, Remus said before taking another bite of his toast and looking in your direction. “How are you feeling after a bit more sleep?”

“Good, like nothing even happened, I feel like I’m back to normal”. Remus nodded at your words, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, causing you to sigh and place your fork back onto your plate that was balanced on your nap. “I know we need to discuss what has happened and I’d rather do it now instead of waiting”.

The three Marauders looked at each other, unsure of how to approach the subject before James took one for the team and spoke first. “So you said you don’t remember anything, is that still the case?”

“The last thing I remember is going to Potions on Monday afternoon which was apparently a few days ago, I don't remember anything up until waking up in the hospital wing”.

“Do you understand what’s happened though? And how serious it was?”, James continued, his usual light and laughter not present in his eyes and you had to look at your fingers holding onto your plate as you felt the intensity of his emotions.

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey explained everything and why I had the seizure. I know I hadn’t looked after myself that day, but sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in my assignments for classes and if I don’t do them as soon as they are given to me, I’ll run out of time to complete them and then I’ll fail and then they’ll kick me out of the school and-”.

A scarred, rough hand pulled the plate from your grip so that he could gently hold both of your hands, tipping your chin back so that you were looking up at him as Remus came through with his words of wisdom. “You know that’s just your anxiety talking, there’s no way they would ever kick a talented witch like you from Hogwarts. You’re nearly top of all classes, always help others with their work and get good grades on your own. But you really need to look after yourself. To even get to the point of fainting is so dangerous Sweetheart, imagine if we weren’t there when this all happened?”

It was Sirius who began talking next, “We aren’t saying you need to completely change your ways but you fought us so hard in the library to even just have a little break. From now on, maybe we should put a bottle of water and some snacks in your bag and please, if you’re studying, just give yourself a rest every hour or so, even if it's to have a walk around the library to stretch your legs. Is that ok?”

The way he was speaking to you so softly and kindly had your heart melting and you hated how quickly tears were in your eyes again. You were so thankful for them, expecting them to be angry in some sort of way but once again proving how much you loved them and they loved you.

Unable to form any words, you nodded your response towards Sirius who smiled and opened his arms for you to crawl into again, his hands rubbing up and down your spine, soothing the emotions away.

James sighed away his own anxieties, moving over to kiss the back of your head before clearing away the food, waving his wand and everything disappearing back to the kitchens. “Right, a day of relaxation coming your way my love”, he began, trying to cheer the atmosphere and already causing you to laugh through the tears. “We will be having regular naps throughout the day, and plenty of food that will be ready whenever we are, All I need to do is summon one of the house elves. We have books, Sirius record player, we could even venture down to the common room if we’re feeling adventurous. Oh! I also caught Lily on my way back from the kitchens and she gave me some fruity bubble bath that her muggle parents have sent her that’s supposed to be nice so a nice candlelight bath will be ready whenever you are Love”.

You were beaming at all three of them, “Thank you! For this and everything else you’ve ever done, thank you”.

James shifted closer so that he could peck your lips, slowly and with love. The action was repeated by Remus and Sirius as you all naturally linked together in a cocoon of warmth and safety as you all hugged each other.

“I love you”, you whispered against whichever one of their shoulders you were nuzzling into. The three of them promised their love back to you before deciding on the first plan of the day.

#poly!marauders #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #hp fluff #sirius black fluff #remus lupin fluff #james potter fluff #the marauders #marauders fluff #mine*

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arachniee · 4 months

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࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 ii. He once was mine.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim!reader (main couple)

(side couple) Adam x Seraphim!reader ┈➤

જ⁀➴ Summary : After he fell from grace, you did your best to move on. Drowning yourself in knowledge, hoping that if you continued to fill your mind with information, you’d eventually forget about him. All the effort you put into it was useless in the end and everything came crumbling down after you met his daughter.

જ⁀➴ Warnings: cussing, mentions of wounds and injuries, not proofread; there might be grammatical errors, mc is a workaholic insomniac

જ⁀➴ Note: Alright, so here’s part two. Not what you expected? Well, this series has more parts than you think and I’m determined to make each one surprisingly focus on something different from what you’d expect. The second part of ‘medical haywire’ is still in progress and heavy editing but it’s on its way. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this lol, word count: roughly around 6.7-6.8k part one

╰┈➤ The current situation was… surprising, to say the least. As you sat still, frozen on your chair, your eyes were glued to the young blonde lady. As much as you wanted to look away, as much as the gut-wrenching feeling in the pit of your stomach urged you to shift your gaze, you went against it. It was overwhelmingly ironic. You tried almost everything to forget him, and all it took was one look at his daughter for all those efforts to be wasted. Would you have admitted it? That the reason you couldn’t look away was because she looked almost identical to her father? The hair, the eyes, the smile, the aura, it was all just as you remembered. Was it Deja Vu? Or was it because you never really wanted to forget him?

The second you felt a pang in your chest, you tried to regain composure. The walls felt like they were closing in, the world was spiraling endlessly in your mind. With a quick, sharp breath, you finally tore your gaze from the young lady and turned to face your fellow Seraphim. She was quite confused with the situation, feeling lost as she doesn’t really know what to do since this type of thing hasn’t happened before (at least to her). Once she felt your eyes on her, she tried to speak, wanting to somehow do something to help ease the tense atmosphere.

“A-Alright! So I know that you’re really busy,”

Emily stuttered, taking a step closer to Charlie and gesturing to the princess’s injured hand. Of course, out of instinct, once your gaze fell back onto her, well, on her hand at least, she let out a smile that seemed as tense as the atmosphere. Vaggie noticed this, putting a hand on her lover’s shoulder to try and calm her down, just as how she always did.

“But our dear guest has an injury and we wanted to see if you could check it out!”

The young Seraphim finished, sending you a bright smile as she clasped her hands together. Even at her words, your eyes stayed on the princess's slightly bloodied hand. Her palm was red, red with her blood. I guess that it served as a reminder that her father was no longer an angel with blood that shined gold. Instead, the blood that flowed in his veins was a shade crimson. One a demon would be too familiar with. You let out a small and quiet sigh, leaning back on your chair and bending down slightly to reach one of your table’s drawers.

Once you told them to seat Charlie on the couch on the left part of the room, the three rushed to follow your words. Your voice sounded so beautiful, melodic even. The blonde girl swore that she could fall asleep if you ever sang her a lullaby, wait, what was she even thinking? With the med-kit in your hold, you waited for them to finally settle down. You watched as Emily tried to put a pillow behind the princess to make her ‘more’ comfortable, the other frantically insisting that she’s comfortable enough. The interaction was quite the source of entertainment, you thought. Then again, you’ve been working non-stop, maybe not having access to entertainment slightly altered your standards.

Vaggie tried her best to stay quiet the whole time, hoping to not attract any attention, especially from you. She had a feeling that you recognized her, since she was one of the angels who you monitored for the extermination. She’d always do her best to maintain her health, wanting to be in the best condition to do her job properly. Of course, she’d had a few interactions with you before. But usually, just as when you were going to ask her a question regarding the previous exterminations, Adam would steal you away from her and her group of fellow exorcists.

She couldn’t really be sure, you’ve been alive since the beginning of almost everything, so there was a part of her that hoped you didn’t remember everything that you’ve known and learned. Including her. She couldn’t miss the way your eyes flickered towards her, even if it was just for a moment. She watched as you stood up, there was always this thing about you that seemed so elegant and graceful. Something that she never was. She looked up to you when she wasn’t a fallen one yet. The way you’d take pride in making sure the people around you are in tip-top shape, the way you’d make sure to do your job with perfection. She kept her gaze on your face, scanning your features. You hadn’t changed that much since the last time she saw you, though, you did look a little more drowsy and, well, tired. She couldn’t really help the concern that built within her, you did so much to make sure everyone got the care they needed (at least when she was still in heaven), but it seems that you’ve been neglecting yours up until now.

“Gently now, let me have a look at that hand.”

Her eyes eventually landed on your larger hand holding her lover’s smaller, injured one. She wanted to help but she knew better than to interrupt an expert at what they do best. Though when Charlie let out a small hiss at the disinfectant you sprayed onto the injury, she perked up and scooted closer to the princess.

As soon as your fingertips made contact with her hand, Charlie's nerves somehow stopped going haywire. Your touch is… calming, she thought. But your hands were so cold, she didn't want to put much thought into that, so she chose to believe that it's because of the air conditioning in the room. On the contrary of what others think of her, Charlie never really had someone that cared and treated her. Yeah, she was the princess of hell, but when her parents parted ways, she was all alone in her little world. She learned that she must be independent, regardless of her royal status.

So as your hands worked to delicately treat her injury, she felt warm. Vaggie has been the only one to properly take care of her, so now that another person did help her, she was grateful for the experience and feeling of being cared for. Emily was watching intently from beside the princess, seated on her left while Vaggie was on Charlie’s right. She has never seen you do your work personally, and now she finds it so interesting. She smiled as you finally wrapped a clean bandage around the princess’s hand and tidied your equipment, putting them back inside the med-kit.

She thanked you as she stood up and tried to help you throw away the used medical equipment that laid on the coffee table. As she walked towards the trash can, she turned around to momentarily glance at you when she heard you speak.

“Charlotte, was it?”

No matter how many times your voice rings through her ears, Charlie thought she could never get used to the softness and gentleness that was laced within it. All of her attention was focused on you, each word that spilled from your lips etched itself into her mind. As she cradled her hand, which was now neatly and meticulously wrapped in bandages, she answered.

“Y-Yes! Charlotte Morningstar, but you can call me Charlie!”

She seemed to gain a little bit of her confidence now, and surprisingly, you were somewhat glad. You couldn’t deny the fact that she seemed like a kind person with how her energy leaked of positivity. But that slight pang that made your chest ache after hearing her last name never went unnoticed by you, it was subtle, but it was there. Why were you so affected by it? Haven’t you moved on and changed? Didn’t your heart and mind agree to let go for your own good? Your thoughts were running miles in the back of your mind. But that bright smile that Charlie sent your way made you unconsciously pause. Unintentionally, your eyes softened ever so slightly.

“I am (Name), a Seraphim. Pleased to make your acquaintance, young Morningstar.”

The way her last name rolled off your tongue was bittersweet. The pain from the bitterness came with the tenderness that you’ve been craving desperately for eons. You’re usually zoning out, playing every positive memory you had with a certain someone just to somehow neutralize the pain, but it always ended up worsening that throbbing pain in your soul.

The only time you ever found yourself free from those wretched emotions and feelings were when Adam was in the vicinity. As much as you used to deny it, you’ve grown accustomed to his presence. No, you’ve grown attached to it, better yet, grown attached to him. It was quite draining to interact with the first man, but it was worth every bit of energy you’ve lost, because as time passed, he became your battery. Your source of energy, at some point, that is. You soon faced Vaggie, an eyebrow raised in questioning.

“And may I know who this charming young lady is?”

What an act. You never forgot her, up to this day. But of course, you don’t know her life in hell and what secrets she may be hiding from her lover, so all you could do was to act as clueless as a stranger. You could call it respect, sure, but to you, the reason for it was because you’d chosen to just not meddle with other people’s business. The princess smiled with glee as she linked her arm with her girlfriend’s.

“This is my beautiful girlfriend, Vaggie!”

Vaggie smiled at the compliment Charlie threw in the introduction. To know that despite her disappearance in heaven, you felt a string of relief when you realized that she found her home down there. That feeling of envy somehow crept up on you. She had fallen, an angel that was forsaken, and yet she seemed to have been blessed with a better life than you ever were. You did so much for heaven, much, much more than what she has done. But why were you still stuck in your madness? When will you meet a person who’ll treat and love you just as how the princess of hell loved her?

“A pleasure to meet you as well.”

You nodded in acknowledgement, Vaggie doing the same, though it seemed more like a bow in your opinion. But you didn’t dwell on that any further. Charlie smiled, very happy with your little interaction. The princess of hell reminded you so much of Emily, in many ways too. The said Seraphim soon took her place beside you as you handed the princess a few packets of new bandages, just in case her injury bleeds more than anticipated. She thanked you and pocketed the little packets before reaching for her wallet. Emily saw this and immediately spoke, waving her hands dismissively at Charlie.

“Oh, no no, Let me pay! I was responsible, after all.”

She urged Charlie to keep her money, but the princess insisted. Vaggie couldn’t help but smile a little, uncharacteristically maybe, but seeing how similar the two are, she had hopes that they’d become good friends and that Emily may be able to provide great assistance to her lover’s dream. The more support they have, the more convincing it would be for others.

“There’s no need for such.”

Your voice interrupted their little, polite bickering. You somehow regret it now as the two included you in their small quarrel. You sweatdropped as they continued insisting on paying. Emily almost shoved the money in your hands, though another voice rang through all the chaos. Vaggie’s smile fell as she realized that the cute, wholesome, and amusing little fight was interrupted.

“Doc, lab room 4 has been prepared and is ready as per your orders.”

You recognized the voice from the other side of the door, one of your newer scientists. You focused on the young girls before you, sighing quietly with content now that this little feud can be avoided. The princess and young seraphim were still trying to get you to accept the money, but you raised your hand to dismiss their attempts. Watching them deflate as they finally accepted the fact that you won’t take their money. You found it very amusing, as did Vaggie. You walked back to your table, going around it and grabbing the white lab coat that rested on your chair.

“It has been a pleasure to meet you, young Morningstar. But duty calls, as they say.”

The moment you turned around, she was sure that you really were the woman that her father secretly drew when she was still a child. The colors of your wings were almost the exact same shade, exact same size in terms of proportions with the drawing that she vividly remembered. They were so captivating, though she’d only been able to see a glimpse of them, a small portion peeking from above your shoulders, a little bit from your sides, and below your hips. She didn’t notice it before, but you seemed to fold your wings, it was a random thought but she found it quite cute.

Emily soon broke the silence that fell upon the room after a while, deeming it time for them to depart and leave you to work. Vaggie nodded along as she held Charlie’s uninjured hand and gestured to the door. The princess thanked you again along with Emily and Vaggie. But before they could exit the room, your voice called out to them, or to her, at least.

“May I have a word with you privately, Vagatha?”

On que, Charlie was confused on why her girlfriend seemed to tense up at your request. The princess herself was quite perplexed with it, but she didn’t really have a reason to stop Vaggie. It’s not like you were going to hurt her, right? She soon joined Emily after telling her girlfriend that they’d be waiting in the hospital’s lobby.

As Charlie and the young seraphim walked down the halls, a few angels greeted them here and there, the princess realized something. You knew Vaggie’s real name? Did you know her prior to this meeting? Is that why Vaggie was so nervous when you asked to talk to her? But how’d you know each other? She was a demon, and you were an angel, not only an angel, a seraphim at that. Her thoughts were running a mile per minute, very confused and yet interested in this matter. She’d have to ask her girlfriend about this after you’ve had you talk.

Once the two had left, the silence filled the room once again. Vaggie didn’t speak, waiting for you to speak and tell her why you held her back. She watched as you made your way to the front of your table, leaning back on it slightly. Your gaze was hard and piercing, just like the atmosphere in the room. Her nerves were going crazy, she was sure that you’d ask her about what happened to her, and the thought itself made her frown.

But as soon as she raised her gaze to meet yours, she was speechless. Mouth slightly agape, eyes wide and her eyebrows way above them. For the first time since they entered the room, your face was painted beautifully with a smile. It was small, anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it, but she did. And she knew. The way your eyes were softly scanning her face, the way you seemed to look…content? No words seem to come out of her, staring back at you with what she hoped was the same amount of tranquility as yours.

“I’m glad to have met you once again, Vagatha.”

Your aura was nothing short of relaxed, as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You may not admitted it to anyone, but you’ve grown to be slightly attached to all of your patients, including the exterminators. As much as you were against their job, you still did yours. And that was to make sure that they were well. After Vagatha’s disappearance, you were very concerned for her. She had been lost and left back at hell, a place where nothing but bad happened. You wanted to go down there yourself, but Sera reminded you of your duties. You realized that Vagatha may have needed you, but heaven needed you more. The guilt was killing you, and you suspected that she may not have been feeling well which is why she must’ve lost to a demon. You were partially responsible, in a way.

Vagatha was still star-struck. All her (after) life in heaven, you were there. Monitoring her health, her mental state, and her overall well-being. She knew you did it for the extermination’s sake, but she hoped, deep down, that you did it because you genuinely cared. You were like a big sibling to all the exorcists, always scolding them if they were eating too much junk food. She’d remember the times that you’d spend your rare, 10 minute breaks to watch them train. Sometimes you’d give advice, informing them of a body’s weak spots, you knew that an angel and a demon’s biology may be different, you still wanted to tell them hoping that the information helped. And they were thankful for it, just the thought that you wanted to help, it was enough. You were their family, you were her family.

When she was left to die in the Pride ring, she met Charlie, who then became her family. She may have lost you, she knew you’d be happy that she found home in hell. She didn’t regret anything. She didn’t regret letting that demon child escape and all the consequences that came with it. She promised you that she’d be the best. She didn’t just mean that in her job, she meant it as a person. And she knew you’d understand her, not like the others.

With every passing day, she hoped that you didn’t forget about her. As selfish as that wish was, she still wanted to see you again. She didn’t know how, but she wanted to meet you again. When Charlie brought up the idea of the redemption program for demons, she genuinely supported her lover. But there was a small sliver of desire in her actions, an intention to reunite with you. And to know that you still remembered her, it filled her heart with warmth just like how you used to.

No word in the dictionary could ever describe the way she was feeling. She was overwhelmed with emotions, trying so hard not to let these feelings activate the water works. But when your steps echoed through the silence, she felt your arms cage her in a secure embrace. It was like you were afraid of letting go and potentially losing her again. It took all of her energy to not let the tears fall, she didn’t want to ruin your coat, after all. But instead, she latched herself onto you, holding you with the same strength.

She was glad you didn’t ask about her wings. She was glad you didn’t ask her about her eye. She was glad you didn’t ask about what happened. Glad that you chose to just hold her as she tried to hold back her tears. Glad that you understood. Glad that you still accepted her despite what she did.

“What the fuck is taking her so long!?”

Adam complained, impatiently tapping on the table’s surface. Lute sighed at his antics, deeming his complaining as childish. But then again, you weren’t one to be tardy. You were very particular in terms of time, at least that’s what she knows. She stood with her hands behind her back, unconsciously anticipating your arrival. She was excited to meet you again, yeah, but she was more excited to get Adam to shut up with his complaining. She needed to cool down before she screamed at her boss.

“Come on! She NEVER makes me wait! Something must’ve happened, don’t ‘ya think we shoul-”

Before he could finish his statement, Lute cut him off. In the most respectful (passive) voice she could muster up with her little patience, she spoke.

“We do not need to look for her, Sir.”

Adam grumbled under his breath, complaining even more at her words. You usually spent your breaks with him, sometimes Lute would even be around. One of those times was now, well, you were supposed to be here by now at least. But you were nowhere to be found! Of course, he’d be fussy. Meeting up with you was the best part of his day. You were the only reason he did his work instead of giving it all to his lieutenant. He liked the way you praised him for it. He loved it. No, he needed it.

His displeasure kept increasing with each minute that passed. He wanted to meet you before the meeting with the angelic court and rainbow bitch. And yet here he is, all alone. And no, Lute does not count as company. He only ever likes and acknowledges your company. He could be doing the most important things, like talking to Sera, but as soon as you were involved, may it be a mention of your name or you were present and in the flesh, he’d immediately drop everything to ramble on about how close you two were or take his place beside you and ramble to you about his day.

Sera was, at first, against your closeness with Adam, remembering the last time you opened your heart to someone. But of course, it was your choice and she’d support you no matter what. You seemed to be happy with him after all, and she was happy for you as well. And you seem to keep Adam in his place, what a great bonus, right?

Adam was about to complain again, but a knock came from the door. He instantly perked up, his mood brightening as he expected you to enter. But his eager demeanor was crushed to pieces when a voice resounded from the other side of the door.

“I’m sorry to inform you, Sir, but Doctor (Name) wanted to let you know that she’d be working in the lab and will not be present today.”

Adam was broken hearted, devastated, betrayed, furious, and every negative feeling you could say. Lute wanted to laugh at his face, he was obviously upset. She watched as he stood up, complaining about something along the lines of you cheating on him. How amusing, you two weren’t in a relationship, at least not yet. She’d be lying if she said that she’s not expecting it to happen, it was as obvious as Adam always spoke about you in such a light that it was harder to believe that he didn’t like you.

Lute sighed as she soon followed him, keeping a distance to make sure her ears didn't bleed from his loud voice. She was curious as to why you didn’t show up since she knew how close you were with Adam, and maybe the fact that you always spent your short breaks with him.

Now don’t get her wrong, though she won’t admit it, she too is fond of you. She’s been one of the first exorcists you’ve taken care of. She saw how you’d help everyone who needed you, making sure they were in top condition. She was glad you were on board with the extermination, and maybe the fact that you always made sure to check on every one of the exorcists. The angels of the extermination were almost like her family, they’d train and eat together. And she was grateful for your help.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Adam had stopped walking, thus making her stop as well, right beside him. He was uncharacteristically quiet. His head was hanging low as he seemed to hold something in his hands. Curious, she peaked from his side. Her eyebrows raised as he held a box with his name on it. Is it a gift or something? But who in their right mind would give him a gift?

There seemed to be a note on it. As Adam was about to read it, he shifted his position a little bit to hide its contents from Lute, to which the woman shot him an unimpressed expression. As he did what he needed, she scanned the area to see if the person who gave him the gift was still present. Though no one except them were in the halls, even so, she noticed a small box sitting pretty beside the wall. It was gray, compared to Adam’s golden box. But she grabbed it nonetheless. There was also a note, and as she was about to open it, she heard the man beside her scream and squeal. She turned around to face him and was greeted with a box of fresh, steaming ribs in her face.

“They’re from (Name)! Can you believe it?! Wait, of course you can! She likes me THAT much, after all!”

His previous complaining was soon drowned out by his smug claims. Wow, wasn’t he just almost close to tearing up and throwing a tantrum because he thought you didn’t like him anymore? What a big baby. How do you tolerate him? Lute will never know. As she focused back on the box in her hands, was this from you as well? She took the small note, upon reading the contents, she unconsciously let a smile paint her face from beneath her mask.

“To my dearest Lute,

Just a small token for not showing up.

Consider it as an apology.

Let’s meet another time, shall we?

Have a great day.

- Sincerely,

(Name)”

Man, you were so extra, needing to give gifts just because you couldn’t make it. Couldn’t you have just messaged them? But she wasn’t complaining, not at all. She was kind of happy you thought of giving her a gift as well, not just Adam. Most people saw her as his shadow, a person who they didn’t need to acknowledge. But you saw her for herself. Important enough that you didn’t invalidate her and her feelings, because of that, she often found herself seeking your presence, or anything about you in general. You were the only one who she could show her true self to, after all. Well, she may or may not be a little jealous that Adam’s box was bigger, she’d never admit it, of course. She doesn’t have to be as important as Adam, she was satisfied with being enough to be acknowledged.

“Hey, that from (Name) too? What’d she write? Don’t tell me she confessed her fucking love for yo-”

She immediately cut him off by shoving the note that she received from you in his face, considering it as payback for him shoving stuff in her’s. Adam shut up quite quickly as he read the note with such focus, mumbling the note’s contents. The way his letter was longer and more intimate than her’s made his ego skyrocket. It wasn’t like he was expecting you to write a note similar for Lute, of course not! He took one last glance at it before leaning back before smirking. Unfortunately, he spoke (much to Lute’s dismay).

“Hah! Damn right, it’s not like anyone else’s more important than THE first man himself! It’s only right that she put a lot more effort in mine.”

He grabbed the note from his box, once again, shoving it to her face with such pride. Man, she wanted to punch him. But she read your note to him nonetheless. Reading quietly compared to how Adam read whilst mumbling. The differences in the notes you wrote for them was (painfully) obvious. Adam took pride in that, of course. Lute was partially affected, but she knew she’d never be able to compare to him in your eyes. Though she already accepted that.

“To my dearest, Adam

Forgive me for my absence,

I know you are waiting for me.

A certain project needed more

attention than anticipated.

I’ll make it up to you,

Once we meet again next time.

Be on your best behavior until then, yes?

I’ll be waiting for you.

Sincerely yours,

- (Name)”

Adam swore to himself that he’d frame this note and keep it in his bedroom. Only for him to see. He started thinking about everything he’d tell you once you’ve met again. He didn’t realize it, but he was spewing out his thoughts and it made Lute want to rip her hair out. She gets it, damnit! How many times does he have to openly talk about how much he likes you? God give her strength or else she’d bang her head against the wall she stood beside. As the gift lay pretty in her hands, she decided to just open it once she got home. She didn’t need to hear him ramble about how his gift was better than hers. For now, she needed to focus on the meeting with the princess of hell.

The meeting was a disaster, from what you were told.

You just got out of the lab when one of the angelic court members met you in your office, explaining the events that happened. You were worried for the princess and her lover when you heard every detail. But of course, you were more worried for Emily. You knew she was unaware of the extermination, to know that her sister was the one who ordered for it to happen must affect her greatly. You still had a ton of shit to finish, as always. But you wanted to make sure the princess and Vagatha went back to hell unscathed and well. Wait, you were willing to ditch your work just to make sure they were okay?

Despite your inner turmoil, you made your way out of the hospital after informing your nurses and other doctors that you’d be gone for a while. They were curious about what made you leave your important work, as much of a workaholic you are, this just seemed so uncharacteristic of you but they didn’t question you about it. You were informed of their whereabouts, and your hospital was not too far from it, fortunately.

As soon as they came into view, you came up to them with haste. Instantly calling out to them, you soon noticed the small portal from behind them. You also noticed Emily’s presence, you debated on whether to make your way up to her or the princess. Wait, you were hesitating? Why? Shouldn’t you check on Emily first? With hesitance, you took a place beside the young seraphim to check if she was okay, caressing her face and examining for any scratch of some sort. As soon as you deemed her alright, you turned to Charlie, doing the same as you did with Emily. After the princess, you repeated your actions with Vagatha.

Charlie was surprised to see you here, even more when you seemed so worried for her and her lover. It felt quite weird for a- well, stranger, to show this much care to her. She’s used to demons being fussy and mean upon meeting her, then again, you were an angel. So maybe that was the explanation she needed. She smiled as she watched you check her girlfriend for any injuries. What a warm feeling, she loves it.

“(Name)? What are you doing here?”

Emily asked first, wondering why you were here and not doing your work. Which is really important, by the way. She had a feeling Charlie and Vaggie were confused by your presence. You took a glance at her before turning back to the princess. A soft hand coming up to brush her bangs a little bit to the side, giving you a clearer view of her face.

Your touch is just as warm as the feeling you give her, she thought. Will you still be this kind to her after you heard her plan? Or would you go against it like Sera and the others? She hoped that you’d still be the same, welcoming and warm. Heck, she wanted you to agree with her plan. But it wasn’t impossible for you to deny her anymore of her dreams. What if you deemed redemption as ridiculous? Would you still look at her with the same, kind expression as you’re doing right now? Each question that ran through every corner and crevice of her mind, she started losing even more hope. You spoke to Charlie, voice barely above a whisper. But everyone heard it as clear as day, immediately perking up with wide eyes.

“You have me on your side, young Morningstar.”

The feeling of warmth from deep within Charlie started sparking into firecrackers at your words. Her eyes instantly brightened as her whole demeanor did. Her smile was sparkling, and you somehow found yourself trying to mirror it with your own. This caused even more reactions, more specifically from Emily. She hasn’t seen you smile like this in ages, thus she too smiled with happiness at the sight before her. Now, Vagatha was no different, a bright smile painted on her face as well.

As you exchanged a few more words, laughs, and smiles, you knew you all had to get going. Your duties were probably piling up so high despite only being gone for less than an hour. With a last hug, you made sure to inform them of your stand once again. That you were on their side. It was all Charlie needed as a push to not lose all hope. To know that someone from heaven, one of the highest authorities, believed her and supported her dream. It was a solid factor to achieve the success of her plans, your support, that is.

As you pulled away from each other’s embrace, Emily smiled as the princess and her lover thanked you once again. You were so amazing in her eyes. Aside from her sister, you were always the one she looked up to the most. After the revelation of the extermination, she started losing trust in Sera. Was there anything else that her sister had hid from her? Not only did she lie to her, Sera was even the one who ordered the extermination that killed many souls! Yes, they were demons, but she too believed that they deserved a second chance.

You and your fellow seraphim watched as the princess and her lover waved goodbye, soon entering the portal that would send them back home. You turned around as your phone started vibrating, excusing yourself from Emily and answering it. Unbeknownst to you, another person from the other side of the portal had recognized you despite only seeing the back of your head and your wings.

Lucifer stood near the portal, waiting for his daughter and Vaggie. He relaxed as soon as he saw that they were alright and smiling. It made him think that heaven actually agreed to her plan for a second. He watched as Vaggie came out from the portal first, extending her hand to it. Soon enough, Charlie came out of it as well, her hand in Vaggie’s.

Though he immediately rushed to his daughter once he saw the bandages wrapped around her hand. Asking her a bunch of questions such as “What the fuck happened?” and “Who did this to you?” Though his daughter would just brush her hand off and dismiss the topic, telling him it was merely an accident. But Lucifer wasn’t buying it, so he turned to the portal, making his way towards it before it closed.

He was stuck in his place, eyes wide, mouth agape as he drank in the sight before him. Time must’ve stopped because he couldn’t move nor speak at all. His gaze remained solely on the figure that had him frozen. Everything came rushing down at him, all the memories, all the experiences, all the pain. How funny, wasn’t he the one who turned away from you? So why was he so suffocated by just a glance at your back? He didn’t even know if it was really you. What if this person just had a similar hair color and the exact same wings? Yeah, what if?

You’ve grown taller, he noted.

He'd remember the times he would ask you to grab a book for him, which just happens to be on the highest of shelves. How convenient. He wasn't really interested in whatever topic the book discussed, no, he just wanted your attention. He'd be beaming with joy as soon as you stood up from where you sat, taking your place beside him and extending a hand to grab the book he was asking for. He'd thank you with a kiss, taking pride in the light sign of embarrassment on your face. You'd let out a small huff of air in amusement as he pretended to read the book's contents right after.

Your hair has somehow grown longer than what he remembered.

He'd remember the times that he would visit your libraries, searching every corner and crevice just to find you peacefully sleeping on one of the tables with your head on top of the book that rested on the wooden surface. He'd debate on whether he'd wake you up or not. But as soon as he heard your soft snoring, he'd smile and take a seat beside you. You were breathtaking, he thought. The way your skin reflected the sunlight, the way your hair would shine just as bright. Unconsciously, his hand would take a few strands of your hair, gently caressing them with his fingers. Soft, that was the only thought he had in mind.

Your wings were as beautiful and captivating as ever, were they still as soft as he recalled?

He'd remember the times he'd practically beg you to let him touch your wings. You would often tell him to touch his own, but of course, he wanted to know how yours felt. Even after no matter how much you have allowed his fingertips to glide over you feathers, he's never gotten over how fluffy they felt under his touch. Sometimes, you'd be reading the most boring book (according to him) and he'd be seated beside you, leaning all of his body weight on your wings. You'd even let him fall asleep on them as he was lulled to slumber by your presence.

But will he ever experience those again with you?

You seemed to be talking to someone on the phone, and god, he hoped that you wouldn’t turn around and see him in this state. The tears were already threatening to fall, his throat was suddenly so dry that it hurt. His hands were shaking as his nerves were. What would you do if you ever see him again? Would you run up to him and hug him? Would you smile and open your arms for him to run into?

Or would you just stare at him with displeasure as you recalled all of the pain he caused you?

He’s been living with guilt ever since the day he fell from grace. He knew he left you, he knew he chose his dream instead of staying with you. He knew he fucked it all up. He’s wanted to apologize to you, trust him, he did. But he just… couldn’t bear to face you knowing the influence his actions had on you. Each passing time of his consciousness, he always wondered if you would have forgiven him.

Have you forgiven him?

It was a question that almost seemed like a chant, a chant for forgiveness. Your forgiveness. But he knew that the weight of his decision hurt you more than he could ever imagine. Did you think you weren’t enough for him to stay? Did you blame yourself for not being able to convince him? Have you ever regretted disagreeing with his plans and dreams?

Did you regret ever meeting him?

Did you ever regret liking him?

Did you ever regret loving him?

Would you have been happier if he had never been a part of your life?

As the portal shrunk in size, so did his view of your back. Many, many feelings were spiraling within the king of hell as he watched you walk away with a young seraphim. Those overwhelming feelings seemed to have intensified tenfold once he saw a view of the side of your face as you turned your head to face your companion. Oh, god.

You were as beautiful as the day he lost you.

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