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wordsbyrian · 1 year

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No Coat - Hardersson x Kid!Reader

Summary: Kid!R has a very full day but it always comes back to not wanting to wear a coat.

A/N: This is very dialogue heavy and if it seems like a hot mess its because I tried to think like a 3-year-old. Also, how many conversations do you think I've had with my mother about weather appropriate clothing?

Game day is your favorite day of the week.

Mostly because it means that you get to lay in bed for a long time and you don’t have to get dressed and go to nursery or your babysitter’s house.

And sometimes, if you’re really lucky like you seemed to be this morning, you get to have a cuddle with your moms in the big bed.

Grabbing your stuffed moose, Älg, you roll out of bed and make your way down the hall to your mothers’ room.

Opening the door, you aren’t surprised when your Danish mother lifts her head and watches you make your way to her side of the bed.

“What are you doing out of bed lille skat,” your mamma asks you.

“I want to lay in the big bed,” you tell her softly.

She doesn’t respond, just picks you up and pulls you into the bed, where you make yourself comfortable immediately.

The last thing you hear before you drift off is your mamma mumbling about how cuddly you’re being while stroking hair.

You’re practically dead to the world after that, only stirring when you get passed from one set of arms to a different but still familiar pair.

Shortly after that, you’re awoken by a voice asking if you’re ready to wake up and start your day yet.

“Nej,” you whine, trying to bury yourself further within the blankets.

“Nej,” the voice, which your slightly more awake brain recognizes as your Morsa, says in fake shock, “But our friend Älg is awake and ready to eat breakfast. We wouldn’t want him to starve, would we?”

Peeking your head from under the blanket, you see your Swedish mother looking at you and holding your favored stuffed animal.

“If Älg is hungry, I guess we can get out of bed,” you say, sitting up.

“Good choice, älskling,” Morsa says before she gets up and carries you to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Morsan,” you say, once you’ve reached the kitchen and she’s placed you in your seat.

“Yes.”

“Sun’s out today, don’t need to wear my coat,” you tell her pointing out the kitchen window.

That gets a laugh from both your mothers, Mamma placing a plate in front of you while ruffling your hair.

“Sorry skat, it’s still February, the sun is tricking you,” she says, making you pout.

Breakfast passes smoothly for you, in that you’re more focused on what’s on your plate than whatever conversation your parents are having.

When you’re done, and your face and hands more than thoroughly covered with food, your mamma takes you from the table to help you get ready for the day.

It goes well until it comes time to get dressed.

“What jersey do you want to wear today, Y/N/N,” Mamma asks, opening your drawer.

“Jessie?”

“Your Jessie jersey is short-sleeved,” she tells you, “If you wear that you need to wear both a hoodie and your coat.”

“No. No coat,” you say, eyes already beginning to fill with tears.

“Yes, my love, you have to wear a coat,” Mamma says again, “No matter what kit you choose, you’ll be wearing a coat.”

“No, no, no,” you wail, tears starting to fall, “No coat.”

Before you can work yourself into a full tantrum, you feel your mamma take your hands in hers.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” she says firmly, “You and I both know that screaming and crying is not the way to get what you want, I’m sorry you're upset so I'm going to give you a moment to calm down, and then we can try again.”

Taking a deep breath, you roughly wipe the tears from your face, grimacing when your mamma stops you only to do it with a wet wipe instead.

“Finished,” she asks, only continuing when you nod, “Alright. Now we can go back and forth all day about what you’re going to wear but what’s not up for debate is a coat, understand?”

“Yes, Mamma.”

“Good, so let’s go back to jerseys.”

“Wear Jessie’s?”

“We can make that happen,” Mamma says, “But if you wear just that, you’ll get cold, so you need to wear something warm.”

“Won’t get cold, promise.”

“I know you think that but Mamma has been here for a long time,” she says slowly, “So you have to trust me on this one. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great, so we have a couple of options: you can wear a long sleeve shirt or a hoodie as your extra layer,” Mamma explains, “If you wear the hoodie you can wear it underneath your jersey so that everyone can still see your jersey when we get to Kingsmeadow.”

“Long sleeves,” you say simply.

“Good choice, skat. Now, will you be wearing a hat as well?”

“Uhm,” you say thinking about it.

Then you hear your morsa shout from the hallway.

“That was rhetorical, Y/N/N,” she calls out.

“Don’t know what that means,” you yell back, then in a much softer voice, “Mamma, what does that mean?”

“It means that the question doesn’t need an answer,” she tells you, tugging the long sleeve shirt over your head.

“Oh, that’s stupid.”

“You’re not wrong but let’s try to use kind words.”

“Okay.”

With that crisis averted, the rest of the time spent getting ready goes well.

Even the part where your Morsa forces a hat onto your head and your coat onto your body happens without much fuss but that’s mostly because your mini-tantrum has worn you out.

By the time you’re awake enough to protest, she’s carrying you through the players' entrance and into the locker room.

The second the door closes behind your small family, you’re instantly taken from you Morsa’s arms, the culprit none other than Zeçira.

“Everyone, Magda and Pernille brought my good luck charm,” she announces, carrying you to her locker, “Did you wear my jersey today, Y/N/N?”

“No,” you tell her, “Wore it last time. Wearing Jessie’s today.”

“Oh so you’re Fleming’s good luck charm today,” the Swedish goalkeeper says, getting back up and placing you in the space between Jessie and Niamh Charles.

Luckily for you, the two young players are more than happy to keep you company in the spare that they have before they need to head out for warm-ups.

“Lose the battle again today, Y/N/N,” Niamh says, helping you take off your coat.

“I don’t like it,” you tell her pouting, “Don’t like the hat either.”

“Yea mate, we know.”

“It’s not all bad though,” Jessie says, “If you weren’t wearing a hat I couldn’t do this.” She pulls your hat down further so that it covers your eyes. “Much better.”

Pushing the hat back away from your eyes, you begin to grow frustrated when Niamh reaches over and pulls it down again.

“Cut it out,” you whine, looking up at her.

“Yea Niamh, cut it out,” Jessie says, trying not to show her smile.

“Sorry, Y/N/N,” Niamh says, “I know you like being a living ice cube.”

“It’s okay,” you say, forgiving her easily, “We can play still after the game.”

“Sounds like a plan, mate. I bet you and me can score tons of goals on Zeçira.”

“And Jessie too,” you say, unwilling to leave your favorite Chelsea player out of the planned fun.

“Yes, Jessie too. Maybe Alsu will want to play as well.”

“Of course, I want to play,” the Russian woman shouts from across the room.

You smile widely, glad that all four of your favorite Chelsea players have agreed to play with you after the game.

A few minutes later, Emma comes into the locker room to give her pregame talk and send the players to warm up, so you go around giving your customary prematch high-5, making sure to pause and give both your moms a cuddle.

Once in the stands with your babysitter, time passes quickly as she lets you do and eat whatever you want. By the time the game is over, you’ve had a hotdog, a cheeseburger, some chips, and a soda.

It’s safe to say that you go a little overboard with the freedom your babysitter allows.

At the end of the match, you’re allowed on the field and while you do take a moment to congratulate your parents on their performance, it takes less than a minute before you wiggle away and run toward where Jessie and Niamh are kicking around a ball.

When you reach the players you waste no time, stealing the ball away and sprinting towards the goal as fast as your little legs will carry you. You’re laughing gleefully as Jessie and Niamh, and Alsu when she spots you, all put on a show of trying to stop you.

Once you get inside the 6-yard box, you come face to face with Zeçira who dramatically dives the wrong way when you shoot. When it crosses the line, you can hear the fans that remain break out into raucous applause.

You and the four footballers continue your mini-game for a while with them allowing you to take up different roles on the field. Your smile only grows wider each time you steal the ball or stop a goal after Zeçira gives you her gloves.

Eventually, after your third attempt to take off your hat and coat, the players decide that enough is enough and Jessie carries you back to the locker room.

Unfortunately, neither of your moms are to be spotted in the changing room and although you can hear the showers running, you aren’t willing to check there and instead wander back out of the room and down the hall to where the press conferences are held.

After taking off your outer layers of course.

Opening the door, you quietly make your way to the front of the room and the table where Coach Emma and your Morsa are sitting answering questions.

When you get there, you stand silently between the two women, head barely peeking out over the top of the table, patiently waiting for Morsa to finish speaking.

When she does, you make your presence known by climbing into her lap.

As you try to make yourself comfortable, you can hear the soft laughter of the reporters and you’re pretty sure you hear Emma say something about being joined by the youngest member of the squad.

None of that matters to you though.

You’re more than content to sit with your head on your mother’s chest, zoning out as she answers the boring questions.

You stay like that for a while, feeling the vibrations of her voice through her chest before you notice she’s turned her attention to you.

“Are you going to answer the question Y/N/N,” she asks when you make eye contact with her.

When you stare at her in confusion, she repeats the question.

“They want to know who your favorite player is.” She then helps you shift on her lap so that you can speak into the microphone. “Go on.”

Leaning forward you go to speak into the mic pausing for a second to look at your Morsa, when she nods her approval you continue.

“My favorite player is Rolfö,” you say.

“It’s not one of your mummies,” one of the reporters asks.

You shake your head, leaning back once more, feeling your mother laugh again but you tune back out before you hear if she says anything.

The memories you have of the rest of the press conference are blurry, you hadn’t been paying attention and you really had only come in here because you wanted to be held anyway.

Which is why no one should be surprised when you fall asleep despite all the bright lights shining in your face.

You wake up slightly in the locker room when your mamma tries to put your coat on you. You know it’s her because only she would try something like this.

So without opening your eyes you begin to whine in protest, “Nej, Mamma, jag vill inte ha jackan på mig.”

You're pretty sure that your protests are ignored, especially since you fall back asleep almost instantly.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #womens soccer #hardersson x reader #hardersson imagine #pernille harder x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader

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ihavenolife346 · 4 months

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♡♥Heartbreaker♡♥

Pairing: Black!Album James Hetfield x f!mom!reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcoholism, and pregnancy

Summary: James didn’t remember anything about what you or him said that night

Characters: James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich, Jason Newsead, Kirk Hammett, Julie (readers daughter)

“Listen Lars, you know I would love to come and see 𝘺𝘰𝘶 play but I don’t have anyone to watch Julie.” Y/N made it very clear, if she was going to a show, it would be to see Lars play, say hi to Kirk, and meet their new bassist.

For the past 7 years, Lars was the only person Y/N still kept in contact with ever since James left. Lars was the only one who knew Julie was James’s, he was the only one she knew as an uncle. “You can’t keep her hidden from him forever Y/N.” Lars groaned. He’s been trying to get his best friend to come to one of their shows for almost 3 years now. He knows Y/N doesn’t wanna see James, but he knew he could either keep her from seeing him, or he could get her out of there if she had to.

“You were there Lars. He told me he didn’t want anything to do with me or her, he told me he never wanted to see me again. He doesn’t want to see her, so I’m only making sure his wish is my command.” Y/N remembered that day like it was yesterday. She had just come home from the doctor, she found Lars and James sitting in the living room with a beer in their hands. She was so happy. She thought James would have been happy too, she thought he would have been overjoyed. They had talked about kids a bit, they both knew they wanted at least 2, the only thing was the time.

Y/N hadn’t realized at the time how much James had to drink. She remembered the way his face dropped when she told him and Lars. She remembered how his face went from happy to angry. She remembered how Lars was the only one to get up and hug her, Lars was the only one that was happy. “Y/N, I know. But he was drunk out of his mind. He probably doesn’t even remember you telling him.” Lars tried to reason with her, knowing how much his bandmate missed the girl. Over the past 7 years, Lars had seen how James didn’t have the spark he had when Y/N was around, whenever Lars asked about it, James always said “I don’t even know why she left me.” James didn’t know what he said, he didn’t remember.

The only think James knew was that Lars still kept in contact with her. He knew she was ok at least. The only thing he didn’t know what that Julie even existed. Lars wanted to tell him, but he remembered when Y/N told them she was pregnant just as well as she did. Lars wasn’t sure how James would react, and he knew Y/N didn’t wanna tell James unless it was herself.

As much as Y/N hated to admit, she missed James, and she hated the fact that Julie has never met her father. “God damn it…can I bring Julie? I can’t get a babysitter this short.” Y/N threw her head back against the couch.

Lars immediately perked up from his seat on the couch. “So you’ll come?!” Lars was amazed she seemed to agree.

“Can I bring Julie?” Y/N repeated again, looking Lars dead in the eye.

“Yes! You can bring Julie! I’ll get her a pair of headphones, you guys have full access to my dressing room, and I’ll find you a good place on the side of the stage!” Lars clearly forgot his niece was sleeping upstairs.

“Shut it! She’s sleeping!” Y/N whisper yelled, knowing Julie would never go back to bed if she was woken up now.

“Sorry.” Lars chuckled, excited that his best friend was finally coming to see them play after 7 years and that his niece was getting to se her first Metallica show.

_________________

“Mommy, where are we going?” Julie asked her mother as she climbed into the car, clearly forgetting what Y/N had told her this morning.

“We’re gonna go see your uncle Lars play with his band!” Y/N reminded the young girl, checking to make sure she had the backstage passes Lars had given her this hours before.

“Oh right!” Julie cheered, buckling herself in her seat, a huge grin on her face.

Ever since Y/N agreed to go to the show Metallica was playing in her town tonight, she had been thinking about a lot. As much as she wanted to forget it, Y/N remembered how happy her and James were. She missed his voice, she missed the thought of him holding her close at night like he did, she didn’t want to, but even after 7 years she missed him. But she also hated him. She hated him for saying the things he did to her when she told him she was pregnant, she hated him for not being there for their daughter’s life. “You excited baby?” Y/N got them heading down the street.

“Yea!” Julie nodded, imitating her uncles drum playing, making Y/N laugh.

“Now, you do know you have to wear the headphones uncle Lars brought you, right?” Y/N reminded her, knowing Julie may have issues with keeping them on the whole time.

“I know!” Julie smiled. “What type of music does uncle Lars play?” Julie remembered that she had never heard her uncles music besides when she was hanging out with him while he had been practicing.

“Well…” Y/N tried to figure out a way to word it, knowing she herself had kept up with their albums. “You know the music mommy likes to listen too when she takes a bath?” Y/N questioned.

“Yep! Is that uncle Lars?” Julie wondered.

“Yea! That’s your uncles band!” Y/N kept her eyes on the road.

“Oh! Ok! Cool!” Julie grinned, remembering the nights she would listen to the music her mom was listening to from her own room.

_________________

“Lars Ulrich. Lars gave me these…” Y/N put her ears over Julie’s ears. “Lars gave me these fucking passes so please, let us through.” Y/N looked at the two backstage passes in the security guards hand.

“I was not told to allow you two backstage before the show. So fuck off.” The security guard didn’t even look at Y/N.

“Oh for fuck sakes.” Y/N grumbled, about ready to give up and go back home.

“Uncle Lars!” Julie chirped once she saw her uncle coming towards the entrance, knowing that the two of them should’ve been in his dressing room.

“Hi sweetheart!” Lars smiled, knowing that James was in his dressing room, turning his attention to the security guard. “Is there an issue?” Lars questioned, seeing the passes he had given Y/N in his hand.

“No sir, I wasn’t aware they were coming. My apologies miss.” The security guard didn’t ask any other questions one he heard the young girl call Lars “uncle”, not being a further explanation than that.

“Thanks.” Y/N rolled her eyes, letting Julie go in front of her as they made their way backstage with Lars.

“I thought some other guy was working, I didn’t mention it to Sam. Sorry about that.” Lars apologized.

“Nah, all good, don’t worry about it. When does the show start?” Y/N wondered.

“Here in about 20 minutes I think.” Lars shrugged, keeping both girls close to him.

“Ok!” Julie chirped happily, sticking by her mom’s leg to not get in the way of everyone rushing around.

_________________

For the next 15 minutes, Y/N, Lars, and Julie hung out in his dressing room. Lars kept his niece occupied, while Y/N was left with time to think. What if James didn’t actually remember her telling him? What is James saw them, put the pieces together? She knew she couldn’t hide Julie from him forever, but this was his choice. He told her he never wanted to see her again, and that he wanted nothing to do with the baby. That was his choice. But the it crossed her mind that he was drunk, he might not have even known what he was saying. Y/N started getting anxious at the thought of even being in the same place as him like she was, she didn’t know how to handle it if he did see her. Did he miss her? Did he remember anything, at all.

Y/N was snapped out of her thoughts by the door slamming open, 10 minutes before show time, revealing a clearly stressed out Kirk. “La-“ Kirk started, his eyes falling on the child who was seated next to Lars, and the woman on the couch who he couldn’t tell where he knew her from yet. “Who are they? Your wife and kid or something?” Kirk joked but was also serious.

Y/N froze, she didn’t know what to say. Lars saw the panic on her face, making immediate eye contact with her, “can I tell him?” Was the look Lars was giving her, getting a slight nod from her. “Not my wife and kid dumbass. Do you remember Y/N?” Lars wondered, watching the dots click in Kirk’s head.

“Y/N?! Holy shit!” Kirk looked at her with complete shock. He hadn’t seen the woman in 7 years, he didn’t even know if she was still alive, yet there she was right in front of him.

Y/N snapped out of her gaze, a small smile appeared on her face, “hey Kirk.” Y/N got up from her seat, already knowing he would be bringing her into a hug.

Without even thinking, Kirk pulled the girl into a bone crushing hug. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Kirk didn’t let her go for a solid minute.

“Lars invited me and Julie.” Y/N simply explained, nodding her head over to Julie who had a very confused look on her face.

“Mom, who’s he?” Julie wondered over to the spot next to her mom, looking the curly haired man up and down.

Kirk didn’t even need to ask to put the pieces together. Julie clearly wasn’t any older than 8. Kirk was stunned when he heard the word “mom” come out of her mouth. Y/N just simply nodded the second Kirk made eye contact with her with a “she’s his…?” Look on his face. Kirk had so many questions. “This is an old friend of mine and your uncles band mate.” Y/N explained. She knew he had questions. Now that Kirk knew about Julie, she would be willing to answer them. But now two people close to James knew about Julie, Y/N wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it quiet.

“Oh, ok! Hi!” Julie stuck her hand out for Kirk to shake.

“H-hi.” Kirk nervously shook the young girls hand.

Before anyone could say anything else, “5 minutes everyone!!” One of the staff members yelled.

“Does he…I have a lot of questions.” Kirk was still trying to process the fact that he was looking at his best friends daughter.

“No and I know.” Y/N nodded lightly, watching Kirk run off to get on stage, turning her attention back to Julie who seemed as happy as a kid can be.

“There’s a spot behind my drums you and Julie can hang out at.” Lars told her.

“Ok. Go. We’ll be right there.” Y/N smiled, grabbing the headphones for Julie. “You ready baby?” Y/N asked.

“Yea!!” Julie practically skipped after her uncle with a grin on her face.

Following closely behind the girl, Y/N tried to spot Lars’s drum set to find where they could watch the show. Y/N didn’t even realize they were closer to her front of the stage until she heard him… “Derek!” James called for his guitar tech, looking around frantically for him, knowing they only had 2 minutes left until “It’s a long way to the Top” was over.

Julie wasn’t too far ahead of Y/N, at a walking pace now. Y/N froze the second she heard him. There he was, right in front of her, barely 10 feet away, Julie heading right for him. “Derek!!” James yelled again, his eyes landing on the small girl basically skipping right toward him. James had no idea who the hell the kid was, or why she was back here. No stage members had brought their kids in, none of his band mates had kids, and the girl seemed perfectly happy so she probably wasn’t lost.

Julie had felt a pair of eyes on her, stopping when she saw a pair of legs in front of her, Julie looked up with a smile. “Hi!” Julie grinned.

James didn’t even register her hello. The kid looked 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 like him. Long, blond hair, ice blue eyes. She looked just like him. “H-hi.” James stumbled out, looking around to try and find the girls parent.

One having to look up, that’s when James saw 𝘩𝘦𝘳. Right there, right in front of him, with a sad yet panicked look on her face. There she was, his Y/N.

#james hetfield #metallica #lars ulrich #kirk hammett #jason newsted

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charmedslayer · 2 years

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Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead (1991) dir. Stephen Herek Sue Ellen “Swell” Crandell | Outfits

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rrenzwrld · 5 months

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secreto de amor VII

chapter 7! read chapter 6 here

“y/n~i need to talk to you.”

“you always need to talk to me. talk to your other friends.”

“don’t get smart with me. i just wanted to remind you about the business trip i’m going on. i leave next wednesday.” jean worked with a company that providing them with relaxing trips out of the country twice a year because they know how taxing the job can be.

“where you going this time?”

“it’s actually a cruise, going to the bahamas. i’ll be gone for two weeks tho, much longer than last time.”

“two weeks??” that caught your attention. you were used to jean and his trips but you’ve never been left alone for two weeks.

“i figured you don’t need a babysitter because you’re 18 but some people will swing by to check on you.”

“you tell—“

“yes i told mom and dad. they’ll come check on you and if you get scared just stay over there.”

“anything else i need to know?”

“nope, think that’s all. love you!” jean closed the door behind him. although it was only tuesday and he had about a week to prepare, it shouldn’t worry him about leaving you. he knew that you were a good kid, you don’t cause trouble , and you’re practically already independent apart from you living with him. so he didn’t know why he was feeling weird about all of this.

later on that day, you called tia to have your daily conversation and some interesting things were brought up.

“you said he said what now?”

“just reposting tweets n shit and relationships, talkin bout some ‘i’ll take my old bitch over a new bitch any day’” the dude in question was your ex you dated for two years until he cheated. he was your first and last boyfriend and luckily you hadn’t lost your virginity to him or else you’d be going mad even now.

“a weirdo for real. remind me why you follow him again?”

she shrugged. “to be nosy. give us something to talk about.”

“valid.”

“your brother still going on the trip thingy?”

“yeah, why?”

“just asking. don’t he always go around the same time?”

“yeah but i didn’t think you were paying attention. he’s gonna be gone for two weeks this time.”

“two weeks?? oh you’ll be dead before he gets back.”

“don’t say that! i can handle myself fine for two weeks.”

“you don’t even sound like you believe yourself. but look at the bright side,” you rolled your eyes as you already knew what would come next. “connie can come over without any interruptions and he’ll stay and keep you company, and then~” tia started clapping her hands and moaning.

you laughed. “i fucking hate you. i don’t even think about him like that, he 22.”

“so? older dick be the best dick.”

“i’m gonna hang up on you.”

“it’s okay if you wanna hang up on me to call your man.”

“i don’t have a man.”

“sure..”

next wednesday rolled around quicker than you thought and it didn’t seem real to you up until you saw your brother all packed up in suit and tie.

“why you dressed up? i thought you were going on the trip to relax.”

“there’s a meeting right before we board the plane.” you nodded as you watched your brother put on his dress shoes. “are you sure you’ll be okay? you’ll call or text if you need anything right?”

“yes, i’ll be okay. just have fun.”

“i already called everyone to let them know so some one would be there everyday to check on you. and don’t throw any parties or anything while i’m gone.”

“i’ll try not to.” you joked. but he knew you weren’t like that. the most you’d probably do is have tia sleep over or something and just the two of you do stupid shit in the comfort of your own home.

“well,” he started as you helped him load the last of his things in his car. “i love you, i’ll be back in two weeks. i’ll call and text everyday, just don’t die on me.” he laughed while he pulled you into a tight embrace

“i won’t die, promise.”

after the both of you struggled to let go, you bid him a formal farewell as you watched him back out the parking lot, “love you too, be safe!”

after all that, it was weird having the place to yourself but you’d just operate how you would normally do. the only difference was that jean wasn’t present and you had to get used to that. but as he said, over the two weeks, people came to check on you every day.

you had visits from your older stepbrother elliot snd his girlfriend, your mom, your stepdad, and even your biological dad who really just started speaking to you after your mom remarried. but family wasn’t the only people who were there for you. you had visits from sasha who you’d hang out with from time to time, and sleepovers with your friend tia. but one person you really should’ve saw coming was connie. but you didn’t know how you felt just yet.

“y/n~” you heard connie call out to you from your room but he stopped in the doorway when he made it. “your brother told me to—“

“check up on me?”

“yeah, but.. a little more than that.”

“what?”

“he gave me a key, see?” he held it up proudly but you were shocked and maybe a bit upset.

“when did he give you a key? and why?” connie walked into your room and sat at the chair by your desk.

“he wants me to check on you

everyday—“

“people do that already.”

“yeah but he wants me to check on you everyday.. for multiple times a day.”

“so i don’t have a choice.. but to see you everyday?”

“multiple times a day, yes.” he smiles. “but that makes it easier for us to get to know each other.”

“don’t you have things to do? like work or..?”

“yeah but i’ll just come here after.” you rolled your eyes. although jean suspected that connie was trying something with you, he still trusted connie to keep you safe if anything else.

“whatever.” you went back to whatever you were doing.

“right,” connie stood up to walk out the room. “and imma need your number or something.”

“to track me?”

“no, just to keep in contact with you. weirdo.” he laughed. you were the weirdo? you ended up putting your number in his phone and he put his number in yours. “i turned locations on by the way. i’ll be back, bye!” he left before you could even get on him about it.

#aot #aot x reader #black reader #aot x black reader #connie springer #aot connie #connie springer x black y/n #connie x black y/n #connie x black reader

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gaysindistress · 8 months

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As Good a Reason - two

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: mob!Bucky, cursing

word count: 3.1k

Tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn

one | series masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is written vaguely enough for anyone to see themselves in her.

The city never changed during her six year hiatus. Concrete jungle or whatever Jay Z said, that is how she remembered the city and as the car rolls down the streets, it’s obvious that it’s not going to change.

About the only thing that has changed is how much of an outsider Y/N feels like. This place isn’t her home, it hasn’t been since her father put a bullet in her mom right in the middle of dinner. It probably wasn’t even home for her before then but it’s all she knew. God even Phoenix in all its hot glory felt more like home than the lower east side did.

Victoria has remained eerily quiet ever since they got off the plane. Y/N passed it off as nerves but Niklaus whispered to her that neither daughter had been “home” since that night. Brock had chosen to ship Victoria off to Paris to live with some business partner of his. He said it was good for her to travel but when it was really a ploy to marry her off to a 50 year old white man.

That man ended up dead 366 days after they were married and exactly one day after the prenup ended.

Niklaus, on the other hand, was held prisoner in his childhood home and forced to learn the ins and outs of the family business. Brock needed someone to take over in the event of his early death and being the only son, Niklaus was the natural choice. Brock always wanted it to be Y/N, his youngest and most favorite, but Jasmine ruined that for him.

Either way, Y/N almost immediately decides to shoot the man dead the moment the White Wolf’s death is confirmed. She had thought about this very chance every night for six years but now she’s finally getting the chance. A part of her wants to make him suffer and the other part just wants him gone. Both agree that he needs to be dealt with as soon as possible which means cooperating for the time being.

A tall blonde is driving them and she picks up on a strange vibe the moment he gives her the up and down. Any other time and she would’ve broken his nose but Niklaus guides her away before she can do that.

“That’s Caleb Walker’s son, John,” he whispers to her as they drive.

“THAT’S John?”

Victoria smirks, “He got hot.”

“Jesus,” Y/N snorts, “He got weird and creepy.”

“Whatever. More for me then.”

Niklaus makes a face but drops it before either sister can figure out what it means. Their attention gets turned to John when he announces that they’ve arrived at the Rumlow townhouse. Y/N wants to make a comment about how far her father has fallen since she’s left and almost does although the dark presence of the man at the butt of the comment overwhelms her.

Standing on stairs is Brock and his men, all dressed like they stepped out of Call of Duty or some other war video game that teenage boys play. Another tall blonde that rubs her the wrong way flanks her father but he’s dressed alarmingly normal in jeans and a Dodgers tee shirt. Y/N points him out to her brother as they get out and he stalls for a second.

“That… that’s uhhh Steve Rogers. He works for the White Wolf.”

“Don’t tell me that he’s a glorified babysitter.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

Just as they get into ear shot, they stop whispering to each other and greet everyone. Victoria makes a show of greeting Brock who can’t be bothered to even acknowledge her and keeps his whole attention on Y/N.

“There’s my baby girl,” he says with too much gusto and squeezes her too tightly in a bear hug.

She pushes against him as hard as she can to which he utters a warning into her ear of play nice or else. He gives her a fake smile when he releases her and introduces her to Steve who gently shakes her hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Juárez. I’ve heard so much about you.” Brock stiffens at the last name and corrects Steve.

“Sorry, Ms. Rumlow.”

After taking her hand back and exchanging pleasantries, she heads inside in the direction that she saw Victoria go. Niklaus is not far behind but he’s stopped by John who whispers something in his ear and lets him go. His face is a shade paler when he catches up to them however he refuses to say what happened. Victoria is content to unpack her own bags while Y/N helps her and eyes their brother with concern. He occasionally makes eye contact with her only to quickly break it and find lint on his pants to pick off.

Dinner rolls around and Brock requests that all three join him. Flashbacks break the surface and take over Y/N’s mind when she first sits down. Like a true villain, her father had the same dinner made from that night with the same seating so that they can relive possibly the worst night of her life. He smiles at her discomfort and preys on it like a vampire, finding delight in her shivers. As he drains her of her will to cooperate, he spills the details of his plan to kill the White Wolf.

There will be a party on Saturday that the White Wolf will be at. Niklaus and Victoria are to find and isolate him so that Y/N can deliver the kill shot.

Simple enough but still she finds every flaw in it.

Won’t he be suspicious?

If he’s going to be there, won’t he have security?

How is Y/N supposed to kill him?

Why does this “simple” plan need the Snake?

Brock slams his hand on the table and stops her line of questioning, saying, “Because your brother and sister are too fucking stupid to do it. I’ve already tried them and that’s how we got into this position in the first place. I need you to do it.”

“Weren’t you the one who told me to never reveal all of my cards?” Y/N asks as she takes a drink of her wine.

Brock’s nostrils flare and he squeezes his glass so hard it threatens to break, “I swear to god, Y/N.”

“You must be really desperate.”

“Y/N.”

She takes another sip of wine, “Only a truly desperate man would turn to his enemy for help.”

“You’re not my enemy. You’re my daughter even if your mother was a whore and a liar.”

That strikes a cord.

“Say one more thing about her and I will kill you right now.”

Brock laughs in her face, “I’d like to see you try.”

When she doesn’t answer, he continues on explaining his plan for the party. Victoria and Niklaus are listening enough for Y/N to drown everything out.

She squeezes her eyes shut and repeats a mantra to herself;

He’s next.

She opens her eyes, inhales deeply, exhales, and takes a sip of her wine.

“Is there a dress code for this party?”

Steve slides into his car and calls the White Wolf the moment the door closes.

“What do you got for me?” he asks when he answers the phone.

“She hates him with a burning passion. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that she’s here plotting his death, not yours.”

The other man chuckles, “That so?”

“How much did Sam tell you about her mom,” Steve pauses as he searches through his texts for the name, “Jasmine Rumlow?”

“Enough to know that it wouldn’t surprise me if Brock turns up dead tomorrow morning. Did you get anything else?”

“She’s going to be the key to taking out his operation. He has a soft spot for her so we can exploit that but it might be easier to exploit hers, push her to help us.”

The White Wolf sighs and takes a moment to think before answering, “Do we know what that is or are you expecting me to figure it out when she’s pointing a gun at me?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Is that your way of saying that I need to be back here tomorrow?” “And the day after that. Don’t let her leave your sight until you know what her weaknesses are. Even if she hates mornings, I want to know everything.”

“Copy that.”

Growing up with Caleb Walker at Brock’s side meant that Y/N did know his son, John but he stayed out of their fathers’ ways. Maybe it was his parents wanting to protect him or maybe it was that he knew from a young age what a monster Brock was. Either way he failed whoever wanted to protect him.

Working in the same role as his father, John never leaves Brock’s side and it’s unnerving to Y/N. When Brock moved, John moved. When Brock breathed, John breathed. When Brock tried to assert dominance over Y/N, John did the same. The most recent example of this is how he grips at her arm and nearly throws her through her bedroom door after she got caught sneaking back into the house.

“What were you thinking?” he demands, his voice bouncing off the walls and echoing deep into her ears.

Y/N shakes off his hand and voice as she walks towards her bed. She drops herself down and starts to take off her shoes which angers him even more. His question rings out again but she doesn’t care to answer it. He asks for a third time and she stops what she’s doing, straightens up, and half turns to him.

“I’ll answer you when you stop yelling at me.”

He scoffs and puts his hands on his hips, “I don’t have time for this.”

“And I have all the time in the world.”

Shaking his head, he looks to the ground and takes a deep breath, “Fine.”

Y/N goes back to untying her shoes and kicks them off when he finds the peace inside himself to ask the question again. “I won’t be a prisoner while I’m here. Brock might tell you differently but what I’m telling you is to take the presidency; I can and will leave whenever I want. If the White Wolf is really that big of a threat, then I’ll check in with you but no one is going to track, follow, or stalk me.”

John nods along even though deep down it’s painful to be taking orders from her.

“Since the stupid party has a dress code, Vic, Niklaus, and I will be going shopping. If I see anyone tailing us, I will be shooting out their tires and you,” she pauses to turn and look at him, “will get the brunt of my wrath, understood?” John sniffs aggressively but nods in understanding nonetheless. Y/N finishes taking her shoes and socks off before going to her closet to change. He doesn’t leave or move, annoying her even more than she already is. She wants to huff at the invasion of privacy but it won’t be her any good. With her luck, he’ll take it as her being hurt or worse; a threat to his manhood. Before she can think of something snarky to say, John speaks up and starts into the nostalgia of her being back. He goes on and on about how he never thought he would see her again and how he always thought that they would end up together.

Pulling a sweatshirt over her head, Y/N stops in the closet entrance and stares blankly at him. He grows uncomfortable and shifts but keeps up with his line of wishful thinking.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” she says, interrupting his tangent about how he had a crush on her growing up, “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear about our childhood from your point of view. I don’t want to hear about how happy you are that I’m back. I don’t want to hear any of it because I don’t care, John. As soon as I’ve outlived my usefulness with the White Wolf or whoever else Brock pissed off, he’ll send me away or kill me and honestly, I’m good with either. I don’t want this life and I never have so please spare me the romantics of it all.”

The door slams almost immediately after she finishes and she lets out a deep sigh. Of course it would take crushing his dreams of them being endgame to get him to leave. On the bright side, maybe he won’t bother her anymore or it could go the other way and he’ll be stuck to her like glue.

Y/N chooses to not think about it anymore and falls onto her back on her bed, allowing the comfort of the blankets to engulf her. Time slips away from her as she lets her worries and stress disappear even if for a minute or two. Nothing is ever really stressful free for her, not when her father is still alive and controlling her life.

There had been a time, maybe two years into living in Phoenix, did she think that it would be possible to be free form Brock. Maria and her were in the middle of moving from their first tiny apartment to the one she left behind when the letter showed up. It was simple and with no address. All the letter said was “Don’t get comfortable.” Maria hid it as soon as she found it and tried her hardest to hide any fears that it brought it up but it only worked for a few months after that. A car crash is what took Maria but Y/N always knew that it was more than that; a planned attack or something like that. In hindsight, it could’ve been this White Wolf and not Brock but that would mean that he’s been pulling the strings for far longer than she knew or wanted to admit.

Her phone rings on the nightstand, drawing her back to reality and she groans as she grabs it. There’s no caller ID so she’s hestiaant to answer and lets it go to voicemail. Dropping herself back onto her bed, she doesn’t get a second to enjoy it because it starts ringing again. No caller ID flashes once more and she figures that if she doesn’t answer it now, whoever it is will keep calling all night long.

“What do you want?” “No hello?” a man’s voice comes through, harsh and thick but with an undertone of something she can’t place.

“What do you want?” “Open your curtain.”

She closes her eyes in annoyance, “no. You have three seconds to tell me what you want before I hang up.”

“Assuming your father is going to be the most predictable thing and try to pull something at the party, I’m having a dress delivered for you to wear. Something a little different from those cargo pants you wear everyday.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this is the White Wolf asshole that Brock is obsessed with.”

He chuckles, deep and profound, “Ouch. I don’t think I’m an asshole.”

“Well,” Y/N starts as she sits up and pushes the curtain back to peer out the window, “if the shoe fits.”

Across the street is a blacked out car however she can only assume that the man on the phone is sitting in it. Her assumption is correct. The passenger window rolls down and a dark haired man waves at her. From this distance she can’t make out too many details but she can see the speckles of facial hair and penetrating eyes.

“I fully expect you to be wearing my dress and if you’re not, I’ll be very upset, little snake.”

“I’ll try but no promises.”

“Oh and it goes without saying, don’t tell your father we talked.”

Y/N hangs up without answering and the man continues to stare up at her as another man gets out of the car with a big black box in hand. He puts it down in front of their gate and returns to his car. The White Wolf gives her a grin to match his name and the two drive away.

That box sits in her closet for almost three days before she opens it. The decision comes after a few failed shopping trips and with her returning with one dress she only got because Victoria didn’t want to leave it at the store. Y/N and Niklaus argued with her for a solid 45 minutes about how stupid it was to buy a dress only because you don’t want someone else to have it.

Of course her response was that she’ll find another time to wear it if Y/N choose something else. The shimmery emerald green material shines too much and the deep front v cuts too low for her liking hence why she’s sitting in her closet with the box in front of her. She’s been staring at it for probably 15 minutes now and the looming pressure of the party tomorrow is starting to get to her. Aside from the dress being generally not something she would wear, it feels impractical to wear if she’s going to complete a mission.

Curiosity gets the better of her logic and she’s tearing into the box before she knows it. In the white tissue paper lies a simple black dress. No jewels or gems, no elaborate hems, or fancy material. Pulling out the dress, she gets a better look at the floor length dress that will no doubt hug her figure. The boat neck line provides the cover that her sister’s dress lacks and she quickly shoves the dress back into its box.

“No, no. no,” she whispers to herself as she drums her fingers against the lid, “I’m not wearing it. I can’t. I won't.”

It calls to her, chanting her name from beneath her hand.

She slowly reopens it, letting her hands drift over the fabric as she battles with herself about it, “No I can’t wear this. I mean…. I could. It’s more practical. I could probably fight in it. It’d be easier…”

She trails off in her internal line of arguing as she feels its softness.

“I’ll just try it on first.”

Famous last words.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mob au #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #winter soldier imagine #as good a reason bucky barnes

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always-rolling-my-eyes · 2 months

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This is so annoying and unnecessary 🙄

How do movie studios not understand that if they just rerelease classic movies in theaters, they would make so much money. Promote it, make it a special event, people would love it

#don’t tell mom the babysitter’s dead #movies

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harringtonstilinski · 2 months

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Always The Babysitter - Chapter Eighteen: Suzie, Do You Copy?

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 3,233 Warnings: fluff, some teasing, robin (yay!!) Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! Season 3 is upon us!! WE FINALLY GET ROBIN!! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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“And if your path won’t lead you home, you can never surrender,” I sang, putting on a layer of mascara. I had to take the kids, minus my brother, to the mall.

Hawkins got a new mall built; our very first one, and it was the new hangout spot. You either shopped or you hung out, which is what I did most of the time.

When a knock sounded on my window, I knew it was go time. After I opened my bedroom door, I walked down the hallway and to the front door. For some reason, Mom was still awake, so I asked her if I could borrow the car to go see my favorite person, which she smiled and agreed.

When the kids piled in the car, I drove straight to Hawkins new mall; Starcourt. It literally had everything; shops, a food court, - hell, even a damn movie theater.

“Liv, hurry up, we’re gonna miss the opening!” Will groaned.

“Do I detect whining coming from a Mr. Will Byers?” I asked, looking at him through the rearview mirror. “Blame Mike. His ass had us waiting for him. Plus, I’m going the speed limit.”

“We’ll miss it if you keep complaining,” Mike said.

“Oh, look,” I said, pointing to the big ass building. “We’re here.” I parked in the closest spot I could find, the kids and I piling out before we walked inside the mall.

Lucas was making fun of Mike for being at El and Hop’s house… making out with her the whole time. Gross. But I guess I couldn’t say anything. Steve and I made out half the time.

Will and I laughed at Lucas’ tactics, the latter saying, “See? Even Will and Liv think it’s funny.”

“Because it is,” we said.

“Yeah, it’s so funny that I want to spend romantic time with my girlfriend,” Mike said. “And, Liv, you can’t say anything. That’s all you and Steve do.” “Yeah, but doing nothing but making out isn’t romantic,” I said. “You have to take her out, like on a picnic or something.”

He stopped and turned to face me, giving me a look that I chuckled at.

“Okay, I know it’s hard because of Hop, but you can take her on the front porch with a couple sandwiches or something.”

When we reached the escalators, we walked down them instead of enjoying the small ride it gave, everyone exclaiming out “Hey!” as we walked around them. We walked by a few people, me giving apologies to everyone the kids bumped into, someone saying, “Watch it.”

“Yeah, watch it, nerd,” Erica said. She was sitting by some plants, a waffle cone in her hand from the ice cream shop.

“Isn’t past your bedtime?” Lucas asked.

“Isn't it time you died?”

“Erica!” I chuckled.

“Psycho!” Lucas said.

“Butthead!” Erica retorted.

A couple more names were thrown at each other before Lucas blew a raspberry at her, Max grabbing his arm and telling him that what he did was mature.

Mike went into the ice cream shop, Scoops Ahoy, walking up to the counter and ringing the bell. A girl I came to know as Robin, hollered out, “Hey, dingus, your children and girlfriend are here!” before the window doors opened up, Steve coming into view, saying, “Again? Seriously?”

Mike just rang the bell a few more times before Robin let them in the back, where we followed Mike to the back door that Steve opened up for us. The kids went out first, Steve telling them, “I swear if anyone hears about this–”, the kids replying, “We’re dead!” before I tried to sneak by him, but failed as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said. I could hear the smile in his words.

I giggled as he walked me back into the back room of the shop, pressing my back against the wall. “Steve! I have to-” Kiss. “-get back-” Kiss. “- to the kids!”

“Later,” he breathed, diving back in for another kiss. “You have to kiss me stupid.”

I smiled, feeling his lips on my teeth before laughing.

Steve groaned, resting his head on my shoulder. “Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiv.”

“I’m sorry,” I laughed. Taking in a breath, I said, “I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I’ll stop.”

He looked at me, that look of really? in his eyes. I honestly couldn’t help but laugh at his look, him walking away towards the door to the front of the store before I walked up to him, grabbing his hand and turning him around. “I’m sorry.”

Wrapping an arm around my waist, he said, “Uh-huh, sure,” before kissing me again. He pulled away when Robin called, “Hey, dingus! Customers.”

“We’ll finish this later,” he said, nose brushing mine.

“I look forward to it,” I smiled, diving in for one last kiss before he disappeared. Not even five minutes later, the power went out. I stood up and went to the door that led to the front of the store, poking my head out as Steve came walking to the switch by the door. “What happened? Is there a storm coming?”

“I don’t know,” he said, flipping the switch up and down.

I watched Robin walk closer to him, watching him for a moment. “That isn’t gonna work, dingus.”

“Oh, really?” He annoyingly flipped the switch rapidly.

“I give you full permission to murder him,” I said, looking at Robin. Looking back at Steve, I said, “It looks like you’re jacking off.”

When he flipped the switch for on, the power came back on. Steve walked back to the ice cream buckets, saying, “Let there be light.”

“You’re lucky you’re hot as fuck,” I muttered, walking back into the back room. I picked up a book I kept back here for when I came to visit Steve… which happened to be almost every single day.

I guess I had fallen asleep because I woke up to feather-light kisses on my cheek.

“Liv,” Steve said, gently. “Come on, baby, it’s time to wake up. My shift’s over. You have to take the kids home.”

I groaned, opening my eyes. “Shit. I forgot.” I stood, placing my book back in its hiding spot before walking over to Steve at the front of the store so that he could close and lock the door that almost looked like a garage door.

The kids knew to meet me at the front of the mall, so I knew they were there. What surprised me was that Erica was standing there with them, waiting. Then it hit me; I needed to take Erica home as well.

Before I walked to my car with the kids, I kissed Steve goodbye and told him I’d be at his house later. I always dropped the car back at the house before biking to Steve’s, where I slept like a baby in his arms.

~~~

I woke up with a start and sat up in the bed, the word shit on repeat out of my mouth. Steve woke up as I threw the blankets off of me before I got out of the bed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” I swear I looked like a chicken with its head cut off as I ran around his room, opening drawers and his closet door, looking for clothes.

“What time is it?” he asked, groggily.

“Uhm… 7? I think,” I said, pulling on some shorts. I grabbed my favorite graphic tee and put it on before finding my socks and Converse, sitting on the bed to put them on. I felt Steve’s fingers under my shirt, lightly stroking the skin of my back above my shorts.

“What’s the rush?” he asked, yawning.

“I forgot I have to go with Mom today,” I said, standing up, running my fingers through my hair. “We’re picking up Dustin from that camp.”

Steve nodded, remembering what I told him earlier in the week. “Will you come see me?”

I smiled. “Of course.” Bending down, I placed my lips on his, feeling his hand on the back of my head. I squealed when he pulled me down on top of him, peppering kisses all over my face. “Steve! I have to go!”

“One more,” he said, bringing his lips to mine once again in a sweet kiss.

I pulled away, looking at him. We haven’t said those three words yet, mainly because I didn’t want to feel rushed. I do feel it, but with his track record of that four letter word, I wanted to make sure I actually felt it, and I do.

Smiling, I said, “I’ll see you later.”

He smiled back at me, repeating my words.

I gave him one last kiss before getting off the bed once again to walk to the hallway then the staircase before going outside and getting on my bike to pedal myself home.

When I got home, I ran inside to my room for a moment, spritzing myself with my favorite perfume Steve got me for my birthday before my mom and I got in the car to go get Dustin.

Her and I talked about almost anything and everything, her main questions being about Steve.

“So,” she said. “Have you said it yet?”

I shook my head, forgetting she was driving. “No, not yet. I want to make absolutely sure.”

“Well, you have since you two were kids. What’s the holdup?”

I sighed. “His track record. The last girl he was with–”

“Nancy Wheeler,” Mom interrupted.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “She didn’t love him, and it messed with him for a few days. I guess I’m just waiting for the right moment, the right time.”

Mom put her hand in mine, squeezing a little. “You’ve always waited for the perfect time or place to say or do anything.”

“I-is that a good thing?” I wondered.

She laughed a little. “A very good thing. When it comes to you. Now, Dusty on the other hand–”

“He’ll blurt things out without thinking, do things without thinking,” I chuckled. “But that’s what makes him our Dusty.”

“And that’s what makes you you,” she said.

I looked at her and smiled before looking at the sign for the camp Dustin had been at for the last month. Oddly enough… I missed the little shithead. I smiled big when I saw him before I got out of the car and gave him the biggest hug. “I missed you, shithead.”

“I missed you, wiseass,” he said. I could hear the smile behind his words.

Mom telling us to come on caused us to break out of our hug. He tried to go around me to get in the front seat, but I beat him to it. As he got into the backseat, he whined, “Mom, Liv won’t let me sit up front.”

“Okay, first of all,” I said, turning to face him. “Every single time we’re both with Steve, you always sit in the front. On the way to drop your ass off at camp-”

“Livvie,” Mom said, driving back towards Hawkins.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “You got to sit in the front. So it’s my turn. You can sit up front when we leave again.”

“I’m gonna try and hang out with the party today,” Dustin said.

I groaned, turning and resting the back of my head against the headrest.

“He’ll understand,” Mom said.

“I know,” I dragged. “He was asking me about Dustin the other day on the phone.”

It was quiet for a moment before I heard Dustin say, “This is Gold Leader, returning to base. Do you copy? Over.” A few seconds later, he repeated his words. Since no one answered him a second time, I could tell he was frustrated when he repeated it a third time. No answer, so he proceeded to say, “I repeat: This is goddamn Gold Leader–”

“Dusty!” Mom and I exclaimed.

“What?”

“Relax, for goodness sake,” I said.

“Liv, I’m in range, they should be answering.”

“You’ve been away a whole month, honeybun,” Mom said. “Maybe they just… forgot.”

Tension rose in the car as Mom continued to drive us back home. When she pulled in the driveway, she parked the car under the awning. Dustin made his way inside the house as soon as Mom turned off the car, his duffle bag in his hand.

I went straight to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water, drinking about half of it before hearing Dustin say, “Liv, are you seeing this?”

Smiling to myself, I set the glass in the sink, rim side down before walking into the living room, seeing Dustin knelt beside his toys. Feeling hands on my arms and shoulders, I tried not to laugh as I counted from three on my fingers, five out of the six kids blowing their noisemakers.

I laughed as Dustin screamed and turned around, spraying something in Lucas’ eyes causing him to scream as well from the pain. “Dustin, stop!” I laughed. Grabbing Lucas’ shoulder, I led him into the kitchen. “Flush your eyes out.”

Max came in after us, turning on the water and sticking his eyes under the faucet.

I heard my phone ringing, so I ran to my room to answer it. “Hello?” “There’s that voice I adore so much.”

I smiled, laying on my back on my bed. “Steve,” I said. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I am,” he said. “But considering it’s only 10 o’clock, no one really comes in for ice cream this early.”

“Not even for some USS Butterscotch?” I asked, almost seductively.

He chuckled on the other end. “Not even for that. Hey, are you coming up here today?”

“Yes. You think I’m gonna miss you flirting with other girls just to get a sale?”

“I can’t believe you’re okay with that.”

“Well, as long as you don’t leave me for one of those other girls, I have no problem with it,” I smiled. I really did trust him. They really didn’t flirt back with him, which was honestly shocking.

“Dingus! Counter!” I heard Robin say. Steve sighed before saying, “I gotta go. But I'll see you two later?”

“Just me. Dustin wants to hang with the party today since he just got back. Not sure when I’ll bring him up.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you later then.”

I giggled. “Sure. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up the phone, smiling to myself. I was so incredibly happy with Steve. I just hoped nothing would mess it up. I ran out of my room when I heard the word girlfriend come out of Dustin’s mouth.

Popping my head in his room, Will, Mike, El and myself all exclaimed, “Girlfriend?”

~~~

After Dustin had told us about his girlfriend, whose name was Suzie with a Z from Utah, I got on my bike and rode to the mall, needing to tell Robin about this new piece of information. She didn’t know Dustin all that well, so she wouldn’t judge… or really care. Steve, on the other hand, needed to hear this piece of information from Dustin himself.

I ran into the mall, running down the escalators and straight into Scoops Ahoy, where I ran past Steve with a customer. Robin was in the back, so I quickly rushed out my words, out of breath.

She had her board in her hand, giving me a look that said I really don’t care.

Sighing, I said, “I needed to get this piece of information off my chest.”

She opened the window, the back of Steve’s head coming into view. I watched him scoop some ice cream on a cone before handing it to the customer, saying, “Alright, one scoop of chocolate, that’s a buck twenty-five. Anything else?”

The customer handed him some bills before he asked, “Ooh, Purdue. Fancy.”

“Yeah, I’m excited.”

He messed with the register as he said, “Yeah, ya’know, I considered it, Purdue, but then I was like, ya’know what? I-I really think I need some real-life experience, ya’know, before I hit college, see what it feels like.”

I facepalmed before looking at Robin, asking, “Why am I with him again?”

“Kinda like, uhh, I don’t know, see what it’s like to earn a working-man’s wage, ya’know? Uhh…” The register beeping distracted him for a second before he said, “I think that’s, like, really important.”

“Yeah, totally,” the customer said.

“Yeah, anyway, this was, like, so fun,” Steve said, almost throwing the girl's change back at her. “This is… my first day here,” he said, as the girl and her friend walked away.

“Aaaand another one bites the dust,” Robin said.

Steve turned around to face as she handed me her marker.

I looked at the board, counting the tallies as I marked one and said, “You are oh for six, Popeye.”

“Yeah, babe, I can count,” Steve said.

“You know that means you suck,” Robin said.

“Yep, I can read, too, but that doesn’t matter ‘cause I have my beautiful girlfriend right here,” he said, holding his hands out towards me.

“You can read?” I asked, feigning shock. “Since when?”

“Okay, you know what,” he said. I giggled before he added, “It’s this stupid hat. I am telling you, it is totally blowing my best feature.”

“Your heart?” I said, reaching over the counter to press my fingertips to where his heart laid beneath his chest.

He looked at me with a deadpan look. “My hair, wiseass.”

“Company policy really blows, doesn’t it? I mean, you don’t want your customers to eat Faberge with her USS Butterscotch.”

“Haven’t you considered… telling the truth?” Robin asked.

“Oh, you mean, that I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson, I make three bucks an hour, and I have no future? That truth?” Steve said.

“Hey now,” I said. “Future is standing right here.”

“Hey, twelve o’clock,” Robin said, pointing behind Steve.

He turned, saying, “Oh, shit,” before turning back to face me, saying, “Gotta flirt.” He turned to Robin and said, “You know what?” before tossing his hat off in my direction. I caught it and placed it on my own head as he said, “Screw company policy.”

“Oh, my god,” Robin and I said. “You’re a whole new man.”

Steve backed away saying, “Right? Ooh,” before turning around and yelling at the customers. “Ahoy, ladies! I didn’t see you there. Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Kill me,” I whispered. “Kill me now.”

“Can I get you guys a little taste of the Cherries Jubilee? No? Anybody? Banana Boat? Four people, four spoons?”

“Give me the marker,” I said to Robin.

“You still have it, dingette,” she said.

I looked down at my hand, the marker, in fact, still there. I walked over to the board, putting another tally on it before capping the writing utensil and going over to where my book was, grabbing it and sitting on the corner of the counter to lean back against the wall to begin reading.

Once Steve’s shift was over - like, always when I biked - we loaded my bike in the trunk of his car, or what would fit, and drove back to his house, where we took our showers, got dressed in our pajamas and fell asleep, teasing each other about his antics at Scoops Ahoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Posted on February 26, 2024

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collectivecloseness · 2 years

Text

Love Languages: Steve Harrington

A list of Steve Harrington’s love languages, in order of favourite down ~

Acts of service:

Steve is babysitter, mom and dad all in one.

He wants to prove he’s a good friend, and boyfriend, and future husband and father. Never wants to leave you wanting. Anything you need doing, why didn’t you call him earlier? He’s on his way.

Sometimes you tell him though, that he shouldn’t feel like he has to do everything. Not for you, and the kids, and his friends, and the safety of the town, it’s too much on him. He wants to still help, but he appreciates that you don’t want him just for that, and that instead of shutting him out or down, you offer to help with him. Even if it’s something like fixing your car which you have no idea how to do (truthfully Steve is looking over a book on his shelf to make sure he actually remembers things before he helps out) he enjoys letting you help him out.

And reversed, it might be hard to get him to sit down long enough for you to help him, writing his speech asking for a promotion, cooking him dinner, lots of things. He had to learn to be quite independent at a young age. But mostly he’s worried that without helping others out, he’s not worth much to anyone.

But when he starts to get used to the notion of someone doing things just for him, he enjoys those little moments of relaxation. He’d rather it was you rubbing his temples than himself.

Words of affirmation:

He wants to know he’s doing a good enough job, and that you’re happy (and not going to leave him).

He likes to talk about his problems with the upside down because he’s never once felt like he can with the others, as he always had to be brave one. And as everyone knows, boys don’t cry. Well they do now, and he just sobs in pure relief as he is finally able to get it all out, and not do it alone anymore. Soaking your thigh with his tears as your hand has reached under his shirt, scratching his naked back, being careful of any injuries, as you tell him over and over just how amazing he is.

He wants you to know how much he really cares about you, he’s open about that stuff now, confirming with you that he loves you, that you’re perfect, and how much he treasures you. In big speeches as well, even if it’s seemingly at random times. And he’s dead serious during those speeches.

He needs you to know that he’ll always protect you.

Steve has grown so much as a person and he likes your confirmation when you tell him that he really has become a good person, even if you didn’t know him before when he feels like he was a massive douchebag. He likes to have that external reminders that he has grown, he is better, and you add onto that reminder that he should be proud of himself for it.

He also wants to always know what you’re thinking about. He yearns to know what’s going on inside that pretty head. Are they thoughts about him? Are they good? Are they criticisms? Are you okay? Can he help with anything? Talk to him please. He loves hearing your voice! It calms him, and fills him with love so warmly in his chest.

Gift giving:

Likes to buy you flowers, a couple of semi expensive gifts just to see that smile on your face, to know you were happy, and that he made you happy.

Wants to constantly be surprising you with little things to keep you on your toes, he doesn’t like when he thinks things are slowing or feeling less romantic, it worries him, because he doesn’t want you to bore of him. He wants to be fun and spontaneous and to provide for you. Even if sometimes his spontaneity comes off as a little crooked, or forced, but it’s him trying that’s the important factor.

He’s gonna be your spouse after all, he’s gotta prove himself to you. At least he’s sure he does.

Part of it also comes from how he’s grown up, the gentleman buys dinners and jewellery and flowers. But mostly he just loves seeing how happy you get. He literally loves you so much he wants to get you the world.

Probably found something in his parents attic he was 100% sure they wouldn’t care if it was gone, and sold it to buy you a lot of smaller somethings.

Gets excited whenever he sees anything in any store that he thinks you’ll like. Literally grins and places his hands on his knees, bending and squinting at it, before rocking on them for a second. He’s biting his lip in a grin, imagining any multitude of your reactions when he brings it home all bagged up for you at the end of the day. Robin may try pulling him away from store windows, but he always comes back on his own.

Sometimes he goes to shops just to scour blindly for something, any treat to get you when he gets home from work. It makes him happy thinking of you, humming as he gets reminders of your favourite things surrounding him. And the domesticity of strolling around the store, looking at something he can pick out for you, his love, on his way home from work. Even if it’s something smaller like just chocolate, or your favourite drink, he’s happy to come home and have something to chuck at you.

It also lets you know he’s always thinking about you, in his mind.

He’s surprised and always flattered when you buy him something though. Steve doesn’t expect gifts, he doesn’t think he’s good enough to have earned them, or that anyone would think of him spontaneously like that.

He doesn’t think guys get flowers, or chocolates, or personalised gifts that show you know him so well, especially on non special occasions, but he always melts when he gets anything from you, even in those rare times if you thought it was shitty.

You better be careful though, because if you get him something that touches him emotionally, normally something personal, the next day you’re going to be buried alive on the sofa as he shakes out little tokens of affection he just had to grab for you, all over your curled up body.

Bonus, the only time he didn’t care about Eddie stealing, was when he yoinked something Steve had been staring at the entire time in the shop. “Harrington you literally never shut the fuck up about buying this for your girl. And it’s not even that expensive, can’t charge me a felony on that. Go see your wifey. And stop telling me about how awesome this thing is because honestly, a Metallica vinyl has much more value in my books. Plus it wasn’t even that hard to grab.” His friends definitely get annoyed with how obsessed Steve is with the new item he found for you, it’s a mix of being so excited for your reaction and repeating it to himself so he doesn’t forget what he wanted to buy/make, he can’t shut up about it.

Physical touch:

Steve’s still sometimes like a horny teen, cornering you from behind when he lead you to the family video store break room, to kiss your neck and down your chest.

His touch doesn’t always mean he wants sex though, he genuinely just likes touching you, making you smile with his little movements, the feel of you on him. He could just rub his mouth, not even in a kissing way, just nuzzling his face over and over into your shoulder and he’d literally go dizzy. Gets drunk off your scent.

Your scent is comforting to him. It’s his truest version of home. He’s like a scared little child if he wakes in the dark without it; and his parents weren’t exactly ones to tuck him back into bed and kiss the nightmares away. In some ways he almost is like a kid again, gaining an almost trauma response on his worst nights if he wakes up alone, with you not there to lead him hand in hand back to bed, switching the warm lamp on and holding him close. But Steve’s brave, if you’re not home he wants to get over it himself, he put himself back to bed when he was six, he can do it now. But he’ll be very clingy with you the next morning, begging you to stay the night with him.

He likes having a hand on your arm or shoulder in public, or if you hold his hand first he is beaming. It’s not a possessive thing, it’s a support thing, like this is my partner and I’m there for them. Also he’s ready to grab you in case a monster splits the floor in two or something. And just so you know he’s right there with you. Even standing close behind you, just near enough for him to give you reassurances, or for you to extend the same courtesy to him. And again, your warmth and scent are surrounding him, and you’re easy enough to stroke or hold whenever his mind, or body, fathoms of doing so. Casually reminding you of his love and affection for you at all times, even if he can’t say anything because the kids have come to harass him, at least his hand is on your bicep.

Likes laying down with you whenever he has a rest so he can hold you close. Laughing as he snuggles into you, being goofy and vulnerable and stroking every part of your body before just holding you fondly. Probably squeezes a couple of times throughout, just to remind himself that you’re there, and you that he’s there; he’s already hugging you but it’s like an extra hug as an extra reminder of his love for you.

Definitely throws you over his shoulder if you are determined to move because you’ve got to pee, being your own escort to the bathroom before he plops you down, talking to you as he sits with his back to the door, only to wait till the second the tap is turned on to crawl behind you and wrap his arms round your shoulders, smiling into your temple and at your reflection in the bathroom mirror as he kisses your hair, inhaling your smell. Definitely makes a gratuitous sound of content as he sniffs you because it makes you laugh and splash water at him. Not even in a sexual way, just as if your smell makes him so happy and relaxed it’s like a spell.

Please sit on his shoulders in the pool and play wrestle with Eddie and Robin please please please. Wants you to cling onto his back as he wades around with you in the water. Has definitely touched you in the pool as well, obviously only when you two are alone though.

When you’re at home if you’re not sat with him on the couch or in bed, he has his arms wrapped around you and chin tucked into your shoulder or neck, so he can see what you’re doing. Literally gets confused when you mention for the first time that whever you stand up, even if you’re only going to the other side of the room, he’s always following right behind you, like a couple of inches space wise the most, he didn’t even realise he was doing it. You tell him not to stop though. Of course you do reassure that you’re not going to disappear into thin air or abandon him if you walk from the couch to the tv, or worse go into a completely separate room, ugh the dreaded thought, but you also assure him that he is definitely allowed to follow you like a little puppy, he doesn’t have to worry either way. Sometimes when you’re on his lap, playing with his hair as you both watch tv, you’ll just ‘casually’ mention that you were about to go to the kitchen for a snack, because if you’re already on his lap there’s a chance he’s going to not let you out of his arms once and carry you all the way there and all the way back. Cool we’ll go to the kitchen together, you pull the fridge open and take out those blueberries for me please, I’ll make sure not to drop you. Hopefully, he teases.

He’s beaming on the inside when he realises that you touching him has become so normalised to him too! It still makes his brain all happy when you hold his hand to lead him to a new video you wanted an opinion on, or wrapped your arms around his own when he was just giving a stranger directions.

Whenever you grace him with your touch it’s a comforting reminder to him that you really do love him. You want to touch him, you like just so naturally holding him, or getting him to hold you. He craves that confirmation but not in an unhealthy way anymore. It just makes him feel good. Touching you in any way though, makes Steve feel good.

Quality time:

Steve hates having an empty house, he loves you sharing it with him. Even if you don’t officially live with him, you basically do. Steve wants you to casually move in, so you always have each other to come home to. He’s also only told you this, but some nights he gets scared sleeping alone in the big dark house. With you there the scary thoughts of something coming to get him hardly ever even occur to him. It’s family roleplay for real, he can’t wait till the real thing where you have a wedding band on your finger and your first- or sixth- baby in your arm. Not that he wouldn’t be scooping that baby right up.

It may also be the next step for your relationship, even if you’re not sharing a lease, moving in with him still feels so real and normal for Steve. He loves loves loves to talk with you about your future, whether it takes place in that house, or another he’ll buy for you. Hell he’ll even build it for you. White picket fence, a dog, six kids, his dream car, oh what’s that you want the bathroom on the north side too? You got it babe, let him add it to his notebook of example blueprints.

He doesn’t really like being separated from you much, from more of an anxiety and trauma standpoint because what if you get hurt... it is Hawkins after all, and he wouldn’t have been there to be Steve the protector.

Asks you to visit when he’s working, even if he’s not on break, he can still talk to you. Robin likes you so she only bullies Steve about being distracted.

He likes to ask you about your day, and if a day passes and he hasn’t, most likely you just didn’t pick up the phone the only second of the day the poor man had free, he’s worried it was bad and is already thinking of ways to help.

He likes seeing you whenever he is free, likes when you call asking when he’s available. He likes the fact you ask him to spend time with you. Obviously you don’t ask quite like that, not that he’d mind if you did, but when you make plans to see him, just to hang out together; whether you planned something small with him like watching the season finale of that show you were hooked on and playing a board game together, or asking him out on an extravagant date out which fills the entire day with tickets somewhere that cost $100, or just simply asking him for some time between the two of you. It’s something that he’s so happy to do for you.

He likes that you want to spend time with him, but he also likes the fact you don’t feel the need to spend every second with him, like his parents who don’t trust each other. Although Steve would happily spend most of his time with you, not because you two have no trust, but because you just genuinely like each others company that much.

Even if he’s normally working or babysitting the kids, he likes if you’re there with him. Steve doesn’t have a lot of spare time, for moments for just the two of you. He doesn’t particularly mind it, he definitely feels he has to be there for the kids or his friends or work harder towards some goals in life, and doesn’t mind keeping busy vs just watching tv or something. But he’s super snuggly when he does have it, wanting to know everything in your head, or work on something with you like cooking dinner together. If you two can do it together, that’s pretty good in his books.

#sorry for using s1 Steve but the teddy bear kills me n I thought it fit the vibe lol #hope u guys enjoy! <3 #also also just my personal hc’s!#Steve Harrington/reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington headcanons #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington fluff #hc’s #stranger things

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