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sanguineterrain · 10 months

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redamancy | steve harrington

Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)

A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.

divider by firefly-graphics

i. the promise

"Would you ever get married?"

You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it.

You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety!

"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."

You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same.

"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married."

You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.

"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin.

"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago."

You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."

"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."

"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve."

"I guess."

You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten.

"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask.

Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous."

He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."

"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."

Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious.

"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."

Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer."

"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"

"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."

You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."

Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me."

"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?"

"Not even to her."

You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.

"I'd marry you," you say.

Steve's eyebrows shoot up.

"What?"

"Like, if you were in a pinch."

He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth.

"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."

"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."

"I hope she kept the receipt."

Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth.

"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"

"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."

"I scoop ice cream for a living."

You level him with a look.

"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."

His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why.

"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says.

Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with.

"Let's make a pact," you say softly.

He meets your eye. "A pact?"

"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."

"Well, I don't want a pity marriage."

You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."

"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks.

"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say.

"I can't wait till I'm thirty."

"Or you'll turn into an old maid?"

"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat.

You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"

Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!

Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do.

"Do you mean it?" he asks.

"Of course I do."

"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"

"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."

"You'll marry me?"

"I will."

"Swear on it."

You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.

You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?

"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."

"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."

"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."

"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"

"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."

Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart.

"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night."

Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve.

"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"

"Always."

Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you.

"'Kay. See you."

You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb.

Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away.

ii. the wound

The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow.

Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though.

You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep.

Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far.

She looks away, and your not-smile falls.

"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly.

The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die.

Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that.

"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears.

"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—"

The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her.

"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand.

"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long."

They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening.

So he did. And now you're here.

You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better.

"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead.

"Come sit," you say.

"I need to see him," he tells you.

"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"

"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."

You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita.

Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait.

At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all.

"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."

Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels.

A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.

"Go on."

Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway.

"Go see him."

You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.

“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.

“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly.

Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.

"Yes, he does."

She holds out her hand.

You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.

“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there."

God, are you really that obvious?

You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.

Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter.

Steve’s eyes lock with yours.

“Hey,” is all you say.

“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats.

“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”

You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you?

You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side.

The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.

You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.

“Robin called me,” you say.

Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Your breath is punched out of you.

“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”

His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.

You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour.

“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”

You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.

“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared."

He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.

They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him.

But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.

You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.

His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.

"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”

"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't."

You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his.

iii. the brand

“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.

“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.

“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.

It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.

“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks.

“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.”

“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”

Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve.

“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.

“Me?!”

“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”

“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”

“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”

“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.

As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.

“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking.”

“Are you okay?”

He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.

“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”

“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”

He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair.

"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."

"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly.

"Pot, kettle."

"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."

"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks.

"If you get us there in one piece, yes."

Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers.

"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"

"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say.

Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve.

"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."

"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says.

You scoff. "More like the other way around."

He pouts. "Hey."

"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van.

"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks.

You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"

"No!" all three say.

"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters.

Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops.

"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"

"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"

"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat.

You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve.

"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded.

"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests.

"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."

"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."

You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years.

But this? This is way, way beyond that.

"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"

You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair.

"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."

Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."

"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."

Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"

You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always.

"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"

You wince at the wording.

"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."

You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."

Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve.

"Right, so I'll just…"

You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest.

"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."

"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly.

Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time.

"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke.

Steve smiles gently. "Hey."

His tone is fond. You feel sick.

"Everybody good?" Eddie asks.

He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection.

"You two look cozy."

"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already."

Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.

It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again.

You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation.

“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”

Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.

He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.

“Really, Munson?”

“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”

“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.

Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs.

God, you’re never living this down.

“Y’okay?”

Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.

“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”

“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip.

Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin.

The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.

Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.

Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.

Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight.

He looks like he's yours.

"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation.

He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question.

"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you."

He relaxes.

"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."

"Uh-huh."

You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.

The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not.

Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there.

Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks.

"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."

You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face.

iv. the secret

It's raining. You're in Steve's bed.

Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent.

You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you.

"Do you think he'll come back?"

You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though.

Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight.

Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married.

You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars.

"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness.

You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light.

"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."

He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you.

God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you?

"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper.

Steve squeezes your hand harder.

"No one's gonna die."

You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles.

"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?"

"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again.

"You can stay here as long as you want," he says.

"I can go back to my room."

Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.

"Don't," he says.

"Okay."

You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive.

The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him.

His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair.

It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.

+ and, finally, the first.

"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for.

"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."

He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away.

"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"

You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.

"What?" Steve asks, looking at you.

"You're funny, that's what."

"I am?"

"You sound like somebody's grandpa."

"I do not!"

"Do too," you say sweetly.

"Do not."

"Do too infinity."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."

"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man."

"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart.

You smile. Steve shakes his head.

"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."

"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart.

"And you don't push the cart."

You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven."

"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?"

"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle.

You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.

“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”

“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”

You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you.

“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”

You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.

“What?” you ask.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, seriously. What is it?”

He shakes his head again.

“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”

He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.

The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established.

When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.

“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.

You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him.

Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot.

“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”

“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”

You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity.

“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.

“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.

“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back.

Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat.

“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”

You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.

“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”

You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.

“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”

You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty.

“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”

You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”

You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses.

Now you know: tenderly.

He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise.

You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you.

“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.

“Huh?”

“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”

You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.

“What?” he asks.

“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say.

Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times.

You hope you’ll lose track at some point.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things x you

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yxngbxkkie · 7 months

Note

Hey, if you're still up to those drunk conffesions you reblogged 19h ago (im sorry, i dunno if there were any other, im so akward omg) I'm begging you to write 2 and 16 with female reader and Han Jisung, please that would be wholesome, love your work.

With love, 🦕<333

Hannie with 2 from the drunk confessions please☹️ it hurts in just the best way, thinking you won't feel the same because his anxiety/overthinking but like... it's just silly brain things <33

i decided to mix these two together since they have the same prompts! this is pretty wholesome, i think, so i hope you like it!! 🥰

2. "You're all I ever wanted. I'm sorry I can't say it sober."

16. "This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams we're usually kissing."

You unlock your apartment before walking inside. You can hear the voices of Chan and Changbin coming from your living room, a smile gracing your lips. You set your keys onto the table beside the front door and walk towards the voices.

The two members are sitting on your couch and drinks in both of their hands. A frown comes to your lips as you notice Han is missing from the trio. Changbin notices you first and moves to stand up.

"Hey, Y/N! You're home!" He almost squeals, tripping over Chan's feet as he makes his way to you.

A chuckle leaves your lips, wrapping your arms around him. "Hi, Changbinnie," you greet him, gently rubbing his upper back. "Where's Hanji?"

"He's in his room," Chan explains to you, capturing your gaze. "His anxiety is kinda high after he got drunk."

You peel yourself from Changbin, making sure he can stand up straight before walking towards Han's bedroom door. You quickly shove your suitcase into your room and knock on his door.

"Hanji?" You call out his name, turning the door knob to crack the door open. You peek inside, seeing your roommate sitting on his bed. "Can I come in?"

Han nods his head, and you fully step inside. You smile softly at him, climbing onto his mattress. "How was your trip?" He asks you in a hoarse whisper.

"It was good. I wish you could've come," you inform him.

He shuffles closer to you, resting his head on your lap. "Do you really?" You nod your head in response, combing your fingers through his hair. Han nuzzles his face into your thigh, humming loud enough to feel the vibration.

"Chan mentioned that you're not feeling so hot," you say, leaning forward to see his pretty face. "You okay, bub?"

"Yeah, I just… I thought of something that I didn't want to think," Han tells you vaguely, turning his head to look at you.

You push his bangs away from his eyes, giving him a slight pout. "What's your brain lying about now?" You ask him honestly.

His eyes meet yours, and you watch his soften the longer he looks at you. "I love you so much," Han confesses to you, and your hands stop combing his hair.

"You love me?" You repeat quietly, feeling your heart pound against your chest.

"You're all I've ever wanted," he mentions while slowly sitting up. Your knees brush against one another as Han grabs a hold of your hands. "I'm sorry, I can't say it sober."

You squeeze his hands gently before bringing one to his cheek. "It's okay, Hanji. Drunk words are sober thoughts," you reassure him, smiling ear to ear. You stroke his cheek and release a giggle. "This isn't a dream, is it?"

Han shakes his head. "This is not a dream, I think," he mumbles, chuckling softly. "In my dreams, we're usually kissing."

Your cheeks blush at his words, averting your gaze. "You've kissed me in your dreams?" You ask before pressing your lips together.

His breath hitches in his throat, his cheeks blushing as well. "I - Yeah," he stumbles over his words.

"Do you wanna kiss me?" You whisper to him, moving your hand from his cheek to his chin.

"Can I really?"

You nod your head, switching your gaze from his boba eyes to his lips. Han gulps as his hands rest on your thighs, leaning in to kiss you. You glide your hand to the back of his neck, dipping your fingertips into his soft hair.

The kiss doesn't last very long, and Han rests his forehead on yours after pulling away. "If you haven't realized," you begin to whisper, pressing a quick kiss on both of his cheeks, "I love you too."

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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junkissed · 1 year

Text

bedtime cuddles

member — seungcheol x gn reader genre — fluff word count — 660 warnings — none notes — this is the first thing i ever wrote for this blog and it's been sitting in my google drive for a long time so i decided to post it finally. since this is the third "bedtime" drabble i've posted, i'm considering making a mini series so please leave your thoughts on that so i know if that's something people would like. enjoy! note #2 — inspired by this 2018 ttt video!

one reblog = one really good hot shower

the bathroom is foggy when you turn off the shower, the mirror steamed up from the warmth of the water. the rhythmic whir of the overhead fan fills the silence as you wrap a towel around your head, wringing a little bit of the water from your hair. stepping out of the bathroom, you wander down the hallway, peeking into each room, looking for your boyfriend.

"baby?" you call out through the house. a soft, mumbled shout comes from down the hall in reply, and you smile, heading back into the bathroom.

after giving your hair one last shake, you hang the wet towel up, flicking off the fan and the light as you leave. walking into the next room, you find seungcheol in the darkened living area laying on the mattress on the floor, illuminated by the light of the tv.

you stand behind him for a moment, watching him as he lays unmoving on his side, a pillow tucked behind his head. his face is relaxed, lips barely parted, watching the program on the tv through half-lidded eyes. dark hair is strewn across the pillow, already matted, and you hold back a laugh, knowing how much of a mess it'll be when he wakes up tomorrow. but over the years you've come to love his tousled morning look; despite his shy complaints, his wild hair and puffy cheeks are one of the best part of your mornings.

the quilted blanket spread over him is one you made him for christmas or a birthday, you can't remember which. he's used it so much it's starting to wear out, and you make a mental note to make him another for your upcoming anniversary. maybe you can come up with something cute with little pieces of fabric from the places you’ve been together– it’s too late tonight, though, you’ll figure it out in the morning.

hearing you enter the room, he shifts from his curled position and tilts his head back to look behind him.

"hey," he says with a quiet chuckle, his features softening into a smile when he sees you. "feel better now after a shower?"

"mhm." you grin in the darkness and crouch down, claiming your spot next to him on the floor. his phone is plugged into the small tv at your feet, a reality show playing quietly on the screen. "what're you watching?"

he lifts his arm to throw the blanket over you before turning back to the tv. "dunno. something to fall asleep to. i paid for it on my phone."

you scoot closer, cuddling up behind him and gently putting your arm around him. "today was nice," you whisper. "really nice."

he turns his head to the side to face you, giving you a lazy smile. "yeah." he moves his arm on top of yours, rubbing his thumb along your wrist. his voice is warm and already thick with sleep, and you close your eyes, exhaling softly.

there's so much more you could say about your vacation today, but neither of you wants to disrupt the comfortable nighttime silence that has begun to settle over the rented house as sleep slowly starts to creep in on you. the unspoken words show in every gentle touch as you lie next to each other, relaxing in the moment you have together.

"i love you, cheollie," you whisper after a while. minutes have passed, and you're not even sure if he's still awake, but as you snuggle your face into his neck, the faint smell of his body wash lingering in your nose, you know you've never meant any words more than those.

"love you, too, baby," he whispers back a second later, and you lean closer to press the gentlest of kisses to the patch of skin below his ear. soon you hear his breathing even, and quiet snores fill the room. not long after you drift off too, a hint of a smile on both your faces.

drabble taglist | @foxdaisy @tinkerbell460 @just-here-to-read-01 @ny0sang @noraehey @squiishymeow @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @tenn87 @raevyng @odetoyeonjun @dkakapizzaboy @enhacolor @highkey-fangirling @baldi-2 @onlymingyus @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @potatofrieswithketchup @skzzooyaaa @stariightjoyy @pluviophile-xxx @strawberri-uyu @tigermoonbiss @emmmm127 @hybe02z @sstarrysshit @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @yourfavoritefreakyhan @enha-choo @matilde111

also tagging @duhnova for funsies

join my taglist here!

#🌃 : june.writes #k-labels #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #scoups imagines #scoups scenarios #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol drabble #scoups fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seungcheol scenarios #m: scoups #g: seventeen #c: fluff

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sixhours · 1 month

Text

One Day at a Time - Chapter 6 - Transition

Author's note: Good news! The rest of this will probably be posted today, with the exception of an epilogue I haven't had the guts to write. When I do, it will be posted as a separate work, and it's not necessary to wrap up this story. Thank you for reading! Your comments and reblogs are feeding me. <3

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

After weeks of sleeping on the narrow, lumpy mattress in Ellie’s old room, his back finally gives out.

He’s reaching for the coffee pot and something about how he moves his shoulder causes a domino effect of rippling pain that starts at the nape of his neck and ends by setting his sciatic nerve on fire, every muscle along his spine locking up tighter than a fist.

He barely makes it to the couch, easing himself down to a prone position with a groan that he hopes Charlie can’t hear from the bedroom.

Her footsteps echo on the stairs.

No such luck.

“Did someone just die down here?”

“M’fine,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Just my back.”

“What happened?“

Ellie chooses that moment to come through the front door. “Joel? I need a–”

“He’s on the couch. Think his back gave out,” Charlie says, now standing over him, looking concerned.

Ellie’s face pokes over the back of the couch. “Again, old man?”

“M’fine,” he repeats, trying to roll to his side to try to stand, but that only aggravates the nerve and sends a ripple of spasms up his traitorous spine. “Fuck!”

“Should I go find Maria?” Ellie asks. “Those pills she had worked last time–”

“No, I just…need to rest for a minute,” he grumbles, knowing full well he’s out of commission until someone finds him a muscle relaxant.

“Is he always like this?” Charlie asks.

“Pretty much,” Ellie says, too quickly for Joel’s liking.

“I’ll go find Maria,” Charlie says, surprising them both when she takes Joel’s hand and gives it a tender squeeze. Ellie’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself again. I’ll be back,” she addresses Ellie before heading out the door.

When Charlie is gone, Ellie plops into the armchair and leans forward, an almost predatory smirk on her face.

“So…is she your girlfriend yet?”

“S’not like–”

“If you say ‘it’s not like that’ one more time, I’ll take the damn pills myself,” she says.

Joel groans. “Do we have to do this now?”

“Got ya right where I want ya,” she says. “Spill it, dude.”

“No, we’re not…I don’t…I dunno,” he grumbles.

“You ‘don’t know?’”

“S’what I said,” he grits his teeth against another wave of pain, forcing himself to lie absolutely still. “It’s complicated.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “That’s just what grown-ups say when they don’t want to tell you the truth.”

He winces. “Yeah. Well, the truth is…it’s complicated.”

She sighs. “Are you sleeping together?”

“That’s none of your–”

“Just saying, if you’re fucking her, she’s probably your girlfriend. So it’s not that complicated.”

“Ellie, I’m not havin’ this conversation,” he growls, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Well, you should probably figure it out before the baby gets here.”

He can’t argue with that, so he doesn’t.

“It’s gonna be weird…having a baby around,” she says thoughtfully. “Remember how bad Tommy was after Izzy was born? When he kept putting Maria’s breastmilk in his coffee by accident?”

Joel snorts. “Yeah. I remember.”

“You’re gonna be busy,” she says. “Babies are a lot of work.”

Even in his pain, he picks up on the unspoken question in her voice. He softens. He wants to sit up so he can look at her, but his back protests. Instead, he reaches blindly for her hand.

“C’mere.”

There’s a reluctant pause, and then she’s standing beside him, slipping her fingers into his.

“I know I haven’t been, uh…great…lately. M’sorry.”

She shrugs, biting at her lower lip.

“Truth is…I was just gettin’ used to the idea of bein’ your dad, and now with the baby…”

He takes a deep, shaky breath.

“It’s a lot. An’ I know it’s prob’ly a lot for you, too.”

Her voice is too light, like she’s trying to cover something up. “You’ll have a real kid soon.”

He frowns and gives her an experimental pinch between her thumb and index finger. “Dunno. You feel pretty real to me.”

“You know what I mean,” she says softly, and he feels it in his heart, a twinge more powerful than any back spasm. He grips her fingers tighter.

“It’ll be different for a while…and yeah, I’m not gonna get much sleep. Prob’ly be…distracted. But it’s still you and me, kid,” he says. “An’ I’m always gonna be here.”

His back takes that moment to seize up again and he hisses. “Shit, sorry.”

She sighs, but there’s a smile in it. “At this rate, you’re always gonna be here on the couch .”

“What’d you need, anyway?” he groans, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, a hammer.”

“What for?”

“Cat found me this new poster, was gonna hang it in my room.”

“There’s one in my toolbox; s’by the door,” he says. “Just put it back when you’re done.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re not gonna hurt yourself again, are you? Your girlfriend’ll have my ass.”

His answering glare has no effect and she leaves him, laughing.

Charlie returns with the pills a few minutes later, and he swallows two of them eagerly before she can fetch a glass of water. Then he hears her rummaging around up in the bedroom. She comes back with a heating pad.

“Found it at the post,” she explains. “Your kid is killing my hips. Lift up.”

Your kid.

He frowns. “I don’t need—“

“Spare me,” she sighs. “Lift up.”

So he does, still grumbling, and she slides the pad under his lower back and plugs the cord into the wall. It’s instantly warm, oozing heat up his spine, and the muscles slowly start to unwind. He can’t hold back a groan of relief.

“It’s the bed, isn’t it?” she sighs, easing herself into the armchair.

“No,” he says too quickly. “Strained it at work. Tommy’s got us workin’ doubles to get the new barns up.”

“Uh-huh. Maybe you should consider moving back into your room.”

“Not kickin’ you out,” he scoffs.

“I’d stay there, too.”

He side-eyes her. “No playin’ house, remember?”

“I think we might have crossed that line already,” she murmurs, quirking her lips.

Then she’s up and doing something in the kitchen, and Joel tries to focus on letting the heat work its magic. He knows the muscle relaxant has kicked in when he can roll over slightly and it doesn’t make his back seize. He tries to sit up, but Charlie is instantly at his side, holding him down by the shoulders.

“Gotta work,” he mutters weakly.

“Nuh-uh. I already told Tommy you’re out of commission,” she says.

“The hell’d you do–”

“You’re not good at letting people take care of you, are you?”

He grunts. “Says you .”

“Yeah, we have that in common. Not so much fun on the other side, huh?” she murmurs.

She plunks down a mug of coffee, a glass of juice, and a plate of eggs and toast on the table next to him, then puts a DVD in the player and hands him the remote.

“Stay,” she commands. “I’m at the post all day, but I’ll bring you lunch on my break. You’d better be horizontal when I get back.”

He wants to complain, but the pills have made him slow, and she’s out the door before he can think of a response.

The coffee is black and strong, just the way he likes it. The juice is awful–it’s green, some combination of things from the garden–but he chokes it down anyway, thinking of Sarah and her vitamins.

And then he passes out because he forgot that taking muscle relaxants on an empty stomach will do that. He wakes a few hours later, mouth dry and tasting of that awful juice, to find a paper bag and a note from Charlie have replaced the food and drinks on the table.

It’s a sandwich. Take another dose if you need it. I’ll be home by 6.

He’s pleasantly surprised to find he can sit up. Sure, the noise he makes in the process is unflattering, and he’s not going to be doing cartwheels anytime soon, but it’s an improvement.

This time, he eats the sandwich before he takes the second dose and manages to stay awake until Charlie gets home, but his head swims and he barely makes it halfway through their nightly movie. He wakes to her tugging gently on his hand.

“Come to bed.”

He’s too tired to protest. He lets her lead him to his bedroom, lets her pull back the covers and tuck him into bed, lets her wrap her body around his.

“You just wanna take advantage of me,” he slurs lightly into her hair.

She snorts a laugh. “Yes, Joel. This was my grand plan. For you to knock me up and throw your back out so I could keep you as my sex slave.”

“Mmmff. Knew it.”

“Go to sleep, old man,” she murmurs, nuzzling into his chest until he can feel her smile against his skin.

~*~

Sometimes Charlie is so distant, it’s like she isn’t there at all. She stares into space and he has to say her name four or five times before she hears him. Sometimes he has to physically touch her to bring her back, and then she looks at him as though he’s a stranger.

After the second or third time, he recognizes it as the disassociation of grief. He lost days of his life after Sarah was taken from him, days where he existed in body only, when Tess or Tommy would have to pull him back from the edge of a deep, dark pit. He’d wake up unable to remember how he’d gotten to bed or find himself in the middle of a fight with no idea how he’d gotten there. It might have scared him if he thought he had something to lose.

Those are the nights she needs him.

He knows he should turn her away. He knows he’s using her as much as she’s using him. But she comes alive when they’re together, and he tells himself it helps, and maybe it does.

He takes half as many showers.

Tonight, she arches back into him as he thrusts into her on her side from behind, curled around her body, heady with the feeling of being surrounded by her, all soft skin and warmth. She’s murmuring into his palm, slicking her tongue around his fingers, sucking them into her wet mouth and humming. His other hand rubs flutter-like circles against her clit the way he knows she likes.

She’s three orgasms deep and still hungry, panting and pleading, more, there, so close, please .

And then she comes hard, clenching around him and wrenching a hoarse name from her throat.

Not his name.

It barely registers until she’s scrambling away to sit at the edge of the bed, still trembling from the aftershocks, pulling the sheet across her naked chest.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m sorry,” she gasps.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, reaching out to pull her back against him, but she jerks away from his touch.

“Fuck,” she grits out, followed by a low, keening sob. “Shit. Fuck.”

Some part of him has always known; the way her eyes clamp shut at the critical moment, the way she positions him and guides him and takes and takes and takes, the way she asks to forget, to pretend. Joel knows it’s foolish to think she needed him and not just the idea of him: a warm body, a working cock and fingers and tongue.

“Charlie, it’s–”

Her muffled sob cracks something in his heart. Then she’s locking herself in the bathroom before he can find his feet.

Shit.

He gets out of bed and pulls on his boxers, goes to the closed door. “Charlie?”

“Go away.”

He rolls his eyes. “Dammit, I’m not…mad.”

Silence.

“I don’t care if you…if you need…if you…fuck,” he hisses. “Just talk t’me.”

Her voice is so faint it barely registers. “I can’t.”

“Okay, you don’t have to, but…can you at least open the door?”

“No.”

He makes a fist against the wall, gritting his teeth. Without a better idea, he turns and slides down the wall, pressing his back to the door.

I’m here , he thinks helplessly. Just tell me what to do.

Silence. And then…rustling, a soft grunt, until they’re back-to-back with the door between them. He hears the hitch of another muffled sob.

“I always…thought it would be him,” she whispers finally, voice thick. “That we’d do this together.”

He feels a familiar shameful flush. What can he say?

I’m sorry it happened the wrong way, at the wrong time, with the wrong person.

I’m sorry I’m not him.

But he’s not sorry at all. He’s a selfish asshole, so he doesn’t say anything.

“We wanted this so much. And sometimes it feels like a…a betrayal. Like I’m moving on…forgetting him.”

He swallows hard, thinking of Sarah, wondering if he might hold this child in his arms and feel that same gnawing guilt, like he doesn’t deserve to be whole again.

“I think he’d want you to be happy,” Joel says softly.

“I tell myself that, I do…but I don’t think I believe it. I don’t–”

More silence. He shifts his weight. The floor is cold and hard, digging into his ass. It can’t be good for her back.

“When we…started…you said…you needed to pretend,” he tries, tipping his head back against the door and closing his eyes. “I knew that goin’ into this. Knew I wasn’t, uh…I’m not–”

“I thought…I wanted…I don’t know,” she hiccups. “I don’t know anymore.”

“We…you don’t need to—”

“It hurts,” she grates out. “It h-hurts and I miss him and it’s not f-f-fucking fair.”

It’s not fucking fair .

What else is there to say?

“I know,” he whispers roughly. “I know.”

They sit like that until his ass is numb and her silence is too unnerving to bear.

“Come back to bed,” he says, defeated and not expecting her to answer. “Please.”

There’s a watery sigh on the other side of the door. Then he hears her moving, the slightest groan as she gets to her feet, and he eases himself off the floor. The door opens. She’s wrapped in a robe, one hand cradling her belly under the terrycloth, the bedsheet pooled at her feet.

Her eyes meet his, red-rimmed and hollow. He cups the back of her neck and pulls her into an embrace.

“S’alright,” he whispers when her tears wet his chest and she shudders against him. He sways like he used to when Sarah was little, rocking her back and forth until she quiets.

“Oh!”

She jumps suddenly, startling in his arms, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Swiping at her eyes, she grabs his hand, guiding it down her body until it’s resting just below her belly button. Her skin is warm and taut and smooth.

“What—“

Then he feels it, the tapping against his fingers, some tiny arm or elbow or foot poking at him from under her skin. She laughs through tears as the insistent little being seems to dance under their hands.

“Never been this strong before,” she whispers thickly.

Joel doesn’t trust himself to speak, pride warring with sadness in his chest. They stay like that for a long time, his hand on her stomach, new life roiling beneath his palm.

~*~

The baby should be able to hear them now, so at night, he reads out loud from a tattered copy of The Fellowship of the Ring , sitting up in their shared bed with a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose. The reading was his idea, the choice of material was hers.

One hand holds the book, the other rests on Charlie’s stomach. She says she likes the sound of his voice, but most of the time, she’s asleep before he gets to the third page. At this rate, the kid will be twenty before they finish the first book in the trilogy.

Tonight, the baby–Coconut, he thinks–is particularly active, rolling and kicking against his hand. A particularly hard jab causes Charlie to jump, hissing a soft ouch under her breath, and he puts the book aside.

“Hey, kid, settle down,” he says, rubbing at the squirming lump. “Let your mama sleep.”

This earns him another pointed jab; the kid is all attitude.

“Mmm,” Charlie mutters. “I know what’d help me sleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm,” she stretches, arching her back, and he can see the outline of one dark nipple through her bra.

“Again?” he murmurs, sliding a hand up to cup her breast and rolling it gently through the fabric. “Already?”

She sighs at the contact. “Mmm. Please?”

He tosses his glasses on the nightstand, more than happy to abandon the book, and curls around her, nuzzling her neck. “‘Fraid I’m not going to be much help with, uh…y’know.”

Not for the first time, he wishes he was about fifteen years younger. Even then, he’s not sure he could keep up with her. He wonders if she was always like this, or if it’s the pregnancy. He wonders if he’ll get to find out.

They don’t talk about this, or what will happen after the baby comes. They go to her midwife appointments together and Joel grinds his teeth through every second, but he stays by her side. Sometimes she holds his hand, and when she kisses him, she does so with the full force of her being. But just like the baby, their relationship doesn’t have a name.

She guides his hand between her legs, under her panties, finding her slick and swollen. She gives a contented little hum of pleasure when his finger traces her seam. “I’m sure you can figure something out.”

He huffs a breath into her nape, kisses the spot where the soft, downy hairs tickle against his nose, and strokes her the way she likes, circling and tapping until she’s arching against him. She comes almost immediately, fluttering and pulsing against his fingertips. A little one.

“More?” he murmurs, gentling his touch as her breathing calms.

“Mmhm, please.”

Her clit is a hard, slick little pebble under his fingers. He draws her orgasm from her more slowly this time, teasing, building her up until her climax is a growl sprung from the depths of her throat and her thighs clench his hand in a vise. He cups her sex gently and trails kisses along her neck, her throat, her shoulder as she rides it out, whispers into the shell of her ear, “More?”

Charlie reaches back and threads her fingers into his hair in answer, pulling him tighter against her, and he breathes her in, sweat and soap and something uniquely her. It drives him crazy, makes him feel feral and protective and alive. She turns her head, seeking his mouth, and he obliges, tongue parting her lips and tasting her as she hums and shivers and writhes against his hand, don’t stop please don’t please don’t stop .

“I got you,” he murmurs against her lips in between kisses, fingers circling and circling until his wrist aches. He can feel the baby roll and kick under his forearm, feels her fingers gripping him there. He loves watching her like this, loves the way her back arches and jaw goes slack with pleasure, the sounds she makes when she comes.

And then she does, coming undone in his arms with a throaty moan, shuddering and keening in a way that makes his cock twitch.

“Better?” he murmurs, finally pulling his hand away and groping for the blanket they’d tossed aside.

“Much,” she sighs, relinquishing herself to his warmth. “You sure you don’t want me to…”

“M’fine,” he says, wrapping an arm around her belly, which has gone mostly still. “Kid calmed down.”

“Yeah. S’the hormones,” she murmurs drowsily. “Oxytocin.”

“They can feel that, huh?”

“Mmhm,” she says. “They can feel everything.”

“...everything?”

“Don’t make it weird,” she murmurs, and he can feel her smirking against his arm. “Read to us?”

Us . They’re slowly bending all the rules, he thinks.

He groans. “Thought you were goin’ to sleep.”

“I am, but I like your voice.”

“Uh huh. Damnit, lost my place,” he grumbles, grabbing for the hefty paperback. “Never find it again, damn book is six-thousand pages long. Thought this’d have dragons, so far they’re just describing’ stuff and yackin’.”

“It’s Tolkien,” she yawns. “It’s a classic.”

“Buncha elves and gnomes and shit,” he mutters. “This Dildo Baggins character sounds like a porn star.”

“They’re hobbits,” Charlie laughs and pokes him in the thigh. “And it’s ‘Bilbo’, you grouch.”

He squints. “Right, need my glasses. Tiny print.”

Charlie snickers, something about old eyes , and burrows deeper into the covers as he finally finds his reading glasses and his place.

He doesn’t make it two pages before he hears her snore.

~*~

They’ve kept up the movie night routine even though there’s no good reason for Charlie to stay off her feet. They’ve rented the last of the action flicks from the library, so now they’re working through television shows and sitcoms. Some unlucky soul from the time before left behind a sizeable collection of M*A*S*H episodes on tape, so Charlie often falls asleep to the sounds of Hawkeye’s sarcastic drawl.

They’re on the couch in their usual spots, her with a bowl of homemade strawberry ice cream perched on her belly, him with a beer. The ice cream is the only thing she craves–strawberry preserves mixed with cream and sugar, then frozen and scooped into a bowl. Joel makes a new batch every other night before they go to bed. They’re going through Maria’s summer preserves like crazy, and he’ll be doing work on the community greenhouses for the rest of his fucking life at this rate.

But it’s worth it, he thinks, as she takes another bite of the rich, creamy concoction, licking the spoon clean with her strawberry-pink tongue. She’s a fucking distraction. The laugh track is going off in the background, but with every bite, her eyes roll back and her lashes flutter, and he wants to take that spoon out of her mouth and–

He adjusts himself, forces his eyes back to the screen, takes another sip of his beer. Jesus .

A few minutes later the bowl is licked clean, and a well-placed kick from the baby sends it rocking, tumbling into her lap.

“Apparently we demand more,” Charlie laughs.

“Kid’s gonna come out lookin’ like a strawberry,” Joel mutters.

She smiles. “Baby wants what it wants.”

The phrase triggers a memory, and he chuckles. “With Sarah, it was mangoes.”

Sarah’s mom, sitting at the kitchen table in their tiny one-bedroom, devouring the fruit straight from the rind, sticky juice coating her fingers, running down her chin.

Baby wants what it wants , she’d said, and then he’d kissed her, lips syrupy sweet.

He doesn’t remember if he loved her–there was no room for love to grow, really. Not enough time, not enough money, not enough maturity between the two of them. But they’d made Sarah, and he’d loved his baby girl enough to make up for the rest.

“Who’s Sarah?”

Charlie snaps him out of his reverie. She’s looking at him curiously.

Oh.

He reaches for the remote, pausing the show, and the silence around them has weight, he can feel it pressing against his chest. He coughs, clears his throat, tries to figure out how to start.

“She was, uh…my daughter. Before.”

She blinks at him, wide-eyed, her question a small, breathless whisper. “You had a daughter?”

He ducks his head. “Yeah. She, uh…was killed on Outbreak Day. She’d be about your age now. Little younger, I guess.”

Her eyes are so bright, they almost glow.

“Her mom…my ex…liked mangoes,” he explains. “When she was pregnant. Couldn’t keep enough of ‘em in the house.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Didn’t know you liked mangoes,” he says weakly, trying for a joke. She doesn’t smile.

He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to hide it. It never felt like a good time, and it’s…I didn’t want you to feel like I was…replacin’ something.”

She looks around then as if seeking some kind of clue, something obvious she might have missed. There are no photos of Sarah on the mantle, no drawings or keepsakes to indicate he’d been a father before Ellie–only the broken watch on his wrist. He holds it out to her, the shattered glass face shimmering in the light of the TV screen.

“She gave me this for my birthday,” he says, and the words stick in his throat. “It’s…all I have.”

“And her name was Sarah?” she says in a small, tight voice.

His smile is sad. “Go figure, huh?”

Her lip quivers. “Joel…”

She sets the bowl aside and starts to get up, the bulk of her belly and gravity working against her.

“Don’t–” he starts, but she makes it to her feet before he can protest.

Then she’s standing between his knees and cradling his face in her hands. There are tears in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. She cries at everything now, but that doesn’t explain why he wants to cry, too.

He wants to say something reassuring, to set her at ease, but his tongue is thick in his mouth and it hurts like it does sometimes, like the wound is fresh and raw and new all over again.

“I can’t,” he says thickly, pleading. “Not…right now. Not yet.”

She nods slowly, kisses his forehead with something like love, and cradles him against her. Her warm, full belly presses against his chest, against his heart, and he hates that it soothes the ache. It’s too much like forgetting.

Her whisper at his temple is a balm.

“One day at a time.”

#fanfic #fic recs #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us #pregnancy #babyfic

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shayyprasad · 3 months

Text

for a lunch break, i take you | peter parker

this post is a part of a series called "but you're the one i want"! click here to read parts one and two!

ask to be added to the taglist, and check out my full masterlist here...

reblog, like, and comment <3

summary: summary: you've fallen in love with peter, and the worst part? you can't. not when you know you must be with someone else.

warning: flirting, maybe cursing, teeny bit of angst/sad petey for a second (lemme know if i missed any)

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader (this is in 3rd person!)

word count: 1.1k+ words

peter

they walked the streets together, in a silence that was comforting enough. but peter decided that he would rather use this time to talk to her.

he was still mentally fussing over the platonic flirting. if y/n got to do that, he should be able to do that too, right? and peter totally would, was it not for the fact that he didn't know how to flirt. well, he used to with gwen a little, but after she died, he kinda lost his game.

and if he wanted y/n/n to like him, he would need to find that game.

then another thing popped in his head.

what if she was friend zoning peter so that she could pursue her romance with spider-man? that brought a grin to his face… because if not anything, at least she liked him in one way or another.

"whatcha giggling about over there?"

"i don't giggle. my laugh is actually very manly."

"uh-huh. i'm sure, darling."

and then, out of literally nowhere, this newfound confidence appeared.

"so, y/n/n, what do you think about spider-man?" he paused, waiting for an answer. "you know, since you write about him a lot, i'm guessing," peter added, trying to not look suspicious.

"i- uh, he's, um..."

he smirked.

caught you.

she was a bright, bright red. at least peter knew that he did have a chance as spider-man. but for some reason, that really killed his self-confidence.

the only way he can get a girl is by being spider-man. a superhero. but spider-man isn't who he is. he's peter. a dorky dude that skateboards and takes photos.

spider-man is only there to protect his identity. he wants to be able to get people to like him by being himself. by being peter. of course, everyone likes spider-man. why can't they like peter the same way?

i guess i'll make an exception just this once.

"so, what about him?" pete pressed.

"he's, uh, cool. i guess. bearable enough."

"oh?"

"yeah."

"me personally, i would love to meet him. he's pretty good at what does."

"what he does?" she squeaked out.

"don't you think?"

"...how would i know?"

now who's got the upper hand?

"oh, well, would you look at that? we're here!" she exclaimed, straining her voice.

the parker boy/man/spider/thing hummed in amusement, "actually, i think i've been here before."

y/n smiled, pushing the door open for her and peter. they walked inside and picked a table for two.

"hey, how can i help y-"

"hi cindy," y/n smiled. jeez, peter loved that smile.

"what can i get for you? it's on the house."

"um, one coffee and a turkey sandwich for me. what about you, darling?"

"just a coffee with a ham and cheese sandwich."

"so, y/n/n," cindy started. "this your boyfriend? like, how could you not tell me?"

"slipped my mind."

"she's kidding," peter chuckled, "just friends." those words pained him more than he thought they would.

"yeah? seem extra friendly for just friends."

"she insists on the pet name."

y/n/n grinned.

"well, i'll get that to you right away."

"i told you people would think we're dating!" peter whisper-yelled when cindy walked away.

she just shrugged. "it's fun, isn't it?"

"trolling people? is that some pastime i don't know about?"

"i dunno. gotta find entertainment somehow, right peter?"

he sighed.

she grinned, finding enjoyment in this, "you know, you aren't the worst person to be around."

he rolled his eyes playfully. "yeah, you've mentioned that."

"yeah, yeah. making sure you knew. this is what they call good communication."

they spent most of the time going back in forth with witty banter and occasional burns until their food came.

"enjoy, lovebirds!" cindy chirped.

peter noticed how y/n/n didn't make anything of the comment, and that made his insides burst.

oh jeez, he really liked her. maybe even loved her, which was crazy considering that they had only met a couple days ago. peter just found her to be so... special. she was different and her happy energy was almost contagious. her smile could light up a room.

y/n was like a shot of expresso bathed in sunlight, he decided.

currently, she was rambling on about her favorite book and something to do with how unrequited love is one thing, and your lover dying was another. i.e. the fault in our stars. she just went on about which was worse and why. he wasn't really paying attention, peter was gazing at her with a lovesick smile on his face, admiring every part of her.

"what do you think, peter?"

"uh, absolutely."

"yeah, that didn't really answer the question," she noted as she finished up her food. he was just about done, too.

"the question was; which is worse? unrequited love or having the absolute love of your life dying?"

this was a little hard to answer for him. the time he lost gwen were the darkest days of his life.

"having the absolute love of your life dying," he said after a moment, "y/n/n, unrequited love isn't that tragic. it's actually quite beautiful when you think about it. sure, it may be painful to know that they don't feel the same. but think about it, someone loving you knowing that you won't return the feelings? that’s commitment. that's sweet. that's true love."

"woah. i honestly had no clue you were that wise." she pushed her chair back and got up, watching as peter did the same.

"yeah. i guess there's a lot you don't know."

"well, parker, i'll just have to uncover all your mysteries," she said to him. "bye cindy! love you!"

"bye, y/n, peter."

he held the door open for her, and she walked out.

"you know, having the love of your life die is really hard, because i would have had it to be unrequited love if i could, if that would have saved her," he whispered solemnly.

"what do you mean?"

he shrugged, flaming red. that was not supposed to come out. damn you, y/n, he thought. peter just completely let loose around her, and it was normally a good thing. y’know, aside from when he blurted out too much. he just wanted this conversation to be done with.

"my girlfriend- er, ex-girlfriend died a couple years ago. whole spider-man fiasco.” he watched you carefully, waiting to gauge y/n’s reaction. she seemed as if she was thinking, so he added, “clock tower.”

"oh! i think i read about that, gwen stacy? i had no idea you two were... i'm so sorry, peter."

"it's okay. i’ve moved on," he smiled.

y/n/n wrapped her arms around him, giving him a comforting hug.

she gives great hugs.

it caught him slightly off guard, but he returned the gesture. the two of them stayed like that, at least for a couple minutes right in front of the café, unbeknownst to the pair that cindy was smiling at them.

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h

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that-one-anxious-mango · 3 months

Note

I seen your ask/prompt message!

I gotchu girl!

My ask is how many nicknames do reader and austin have for each other?!

They're so cute! I love themmmm!

Summary: Austin puts in a rather odd request that leads to a cute exchange of information.

* This installment directly follows the events after Special*

Contents: LOTS OF FLUFF. Little tension. My two favorite goofballs being adorable.

A/N: Hi Anon! I hope you’re well! Thank you so much for the ask. I adore them too 🫠✨I hope you like this!

P.S Feel free to always comment, reblog, and send me a ask/letter!

———

Once the two of you were inside you greeted a happy Magnus who wagged and snorted at the sight of his two favorite humans.

Tossing your gear to the side you made your way to the kitchen to grab all of the needed ingredients to make your killer three cheese blend grilled cheese for the both of you.

You had finished it up pretty quickly while Austin was in the living room picking his choice of movie.

Turned out he wanted to watch the nineteen ninety nine version of Romeo and Juliet, which also happened to be the version BAZ directed.

“ A throwback. I remember when this came out. My sister and her friends went to go see it in theaters. My mom took them.” He recalled as you set the plates of grilled cheese and chips on the coffee table.

“ Thank you, baby. “ Austin pressed a kiss to the temple when you finally sat down.

You mumbled a quick “ You’re welcome.” Before snuggling up into his chest just enough so you both could still comfortably devour your food.

It wasn’t until you’d gotten to the part of Mercuatio’s long and terribly drawn out death scene that Austin was the first to speak.

“ Hey.” He spoke.

“ Hmm?” You sleepily hummed.

“ This may sound weird….” He started, “ But I didn’t like the way you said my name earlier. And I’m putting in the request for you to actually never say it ever again.” He finished pushing his face into your neck.

Your eyebrows rose and a giggle escaped you, “ Why? That’s your name. Admittedly, I know that it may have come off harsh that time when I said it. I’m sorry. But I like your name, Austin. And I like saying it....and moaning it.” You coyly squeezed in the last part that made him give a toothy smile.

“ Yeah it was and you only do that when I’m in trouble or you’re annoyed. Always sounds sharp when you say it. Doesn’t sound all warm and sweet like when you call me my other names.”

“ Your other names?. Like what? What other names do you have? “ Your laughter coated in curiosity.

Austin’s cheeks began turning a rosy color and his lips upturned at the corners,

“ You know. I’m Aus, babe, or baby, honey-dew, sometimes I’m poppa, I've been called Aussie poo on occasion, Sweet Baboo is pretty standard, Mr. Handsome," He began while you listened in fascination.

"Oh! I’m plant-bae , Sexy Sam, Sir peanut butter, or your most recent favorite…I’m your googly bear.” He listed off all the ridiculous pet names you’d come up with over the last couple months, and it may you smile and laugh so hard.

Truth be told you didn’t know you’d given him that many, but it was too adorable seeing him blush while talking about it.

You could tell he liked them.

“ I see. And out of all of these names.” You added on, “ Which one is your preference to be called? “

“ Hmm.” He thought for a second and then pulled a name, “ I dunno’. I guess I just really like it when you call me, babe.” He confessed. " Basic I know. But it sounds good to me the way it rolls so easily off your tongue. You say it with this feeling of real endearment behind it.” He added, “ I love that.”

“ Awe, BABE.” You goofed grabbing his face and leaned up to plant a fat giggly kiss on his cheek.

“ What about me? What are your nicknames for me?

“ Let’s see. Well, first and foremost you know you're baby. You’re babe too. You’re my sugar mama, sweetheart, sweet thighs.” He said reaching his hand to give your partially exposed thighs a squeeze. You instantly felt tingles.

“ You’re also my baby-girl, honey, madame peach, the wiggly monster, lady jelly, light of my life, my schmoopsie-poo. “ He tickled your sides.

“ But above all else, you're my best girl.” He finished by leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips.

Heat pooled to your cheeks, “ Really?! I’m your best girl.” You coyly teased.

Austin smiled, “ Really. You’re my best girl. You’ll always be my best girl. You know that.” He leaned his face to hover by yours.

“ You sure? No one else? Just me? “ Even though when you asked you were still teasing, you secretly knew that part of you wasn’t.

Though you knew Austin’s nature and morals made you positive he wouldn’t allow himself to step out on you and break your heart that way. You still couldn’t shake the feeling sometimes that he could go out and find someone more appealing or better suited for him. That he was too good for you.

As if he could hear the gears turning in your mind he leaned down and placed a long sweet and semi- sloppy kiss to your lips. You had to contain yourself a bit when you felt his hand come to rest at the back of your neck and his thumb rub there.

In return yours traveled to his hips to pull him closer to you.

You felt him slightly groan and then pull away from you so that your faces were mere inches away from each other. “ No else. Just you. Repeat it.” He added a edge to the tone of his voice.

“ Say it baby. Tell me.” He encouraged.

You had to find the air to come in your lungs so you could speak, “ No else.” You breathed, “ Just me.”

He smiled rubbing your cheek, “ That’s right. Only you.“

#daysofourlove #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black reader #mangoasks #askarie #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine

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itwasthereaminuteago · 10 months

Text

|| Engagement ||

Matt Murdock x gn reader

Tags/warnings: mild angst, mild smut, meta, sorry not sorry I had to!!! 😂

As always, I adore and appreciate any comments, reblogs, etc and I'm extremely thankful to you for reading my fics!

Matt's arms tighten around you as you lie snuggled up together in bed. He can pick up on your disconnected mood from your elevated heart rate and the way he hears your breathing change every time you think about saying something and then stop yourself.

"You know you can talk to me, if something's wrong." He says quietly.

You take a deep inhale, sighing it out as you nuzzle into his t-shirt at his shoulder. "I know," you reply, choosing to ignore the invitation to unload.

He pushes a little harder in response. "Sweetie, you've been off for a while now, you think I hadn't noticed?"

"Urgh. It's stupid."

He turns his head to kiss you on the top of your head, giving you another squeeze. "I'm sure it's not, and talking about might help? If you want."

You huff out another sigh. "I dunno, I've kind of talked it over with others but it doesn't seem to make any difference. I'm not sure it's something I can fix."

Concern washes over Matt's features. "Is– is it something I've done? Or not done?" He gently takes your face in his hands. "Sweetheart, you'd tell me if it was me wouldn't you? I'd want you to."

You smile, bringing your hand up to stroke through his soft, messy hair. "Of course I would, and no it's nothing you've done, so don't fret."

The worry melts from his brow. "Alright, but c'mon, try me. I'm sure we can do something about whatever it is that's got you down."

"Well… it's work related. I'm not getting anywhere near as much feedback on my stuff as I used to. You know how in the creative sector we kinda thrive on others sharing our work to bring it to the attention of others? I've been feeling for a while now that the sense of community that we had has just sort of disappeared. People don't seem to want to interact that much with what we make."

Matt groans. "Baby, is this about the lack of reblogs on Tumblr again? "

You can't help frowning. "It is." You admit.

He smiles and rolls over to cage you underneath him. "I could make you forget about it, for a while at least?"

"Matty!" You push him off with a frustrated sigh. "Are you honestly trying to distract me with sex? You know how important this is to me."

"I know, I'm sorry. I don't mean to trivialise the issue, I just thought I could take your mind off it, maybe make you feel better."

"So kind and selfless of you…" you smirk as he starts to kiss along the column of your neck.

"I try." He smiles. "Anyway, you were saying? And I'm gonna keep kissing you."

"Fine. Okay, so I know that I should create for myself and not for other people…"

"But it's nice to get some recognition, right?" You nod as Matt holds himself over you again continuing to make his way down your neck towards your collarbones.

"Right. I really do appreciate the likes, but if people are just 'liking' my work without sharing it, that means it just ends up dead in the water. No-one else really gets the chance to enjoy it."

"Any idea why they are not sharing?" Matt asks, lightly stroking your side.

"I dunno, maybe they're not familiar with how the site works, that it doesn't have an algorithm? Maybe they're embarrassed to let other people see what they're looking at? Especially if it's something a bit risqué."

Matt hums. "Yeah but didn't you tell me before that they could just create a sideblog that's not associated with their main account, and reblog things they like using that and no one would be any wiser?'

"Exactly! And anyway, it's not like everyone doesn't enjoy looking at and reading porn…"

Matt lifts his head up, a slight sly smile pulling up the corner of his mouth. "Mm true. So what else are you sad about?"

You sigh again. You can't seem to stop yourself.

"Well, people aren't commenting on works either. There's rarely any discussion, I mean even just a manic keyboard smash would be amazing for an artist to see in their notifications, but there's barely even that anymore. Commenting on a stranger's fan works is so much fun, it can really bring people together!"

"That's how a great community grows isn't it?" Matt asks you.

"Yep, and you end up making so many friends you would never have thought. I miss that aspect of it a lot."

Matt's swiftly moving down to lavish attention over your chest, and you momentarily lose your train of thought as his lips brush over your nipple. "And have you brought people's attention to this problem?"

"Of course! Many other creators have explained why reblogs and sharing are so important in eloquently written PSAs, but I guess that the target audience must not see them because they're perhaps only looking at the stories and fanart from tags and they maybe don't see the other dashboard posts. I dunno."

Matt starts to lick an achingly slow intimate path down your stomach and you feel heat spreading throughout your body, your heart rate now elevated for quite a different reason. Then suddenly, he stops.

"Have you thought about maybe incorporating the message into one of your creations? Maybe that might reach the intended audience better."

You close your eyes as you consider the idea. He shifts further down the bed and you allow him to spread your thighs apart and slot his shoulders inbetween.

"Mm, well… that's- actually that's a good idea. I mean, it can't hurt to try, can it? You're the devil on my shoulder Matty."

"Exactly. But leave it till tomorrow sweetheart. Right now this devil wants to make you feel good."

You bite down on your lip as he flashes you a smoldering look before ducking down to make good on his promise.

#matt murdock x you #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock smut #reblog fics and art!!!#comment on stuff!#make friends and keep the community going! 😊#thank you thank you!

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jedipoodoo · 1 year

Note

You want a Hunter request? I gotchu ;D

How about some angst to fluff....Hunter reacts to seeing reader in a wedding dress? Whether or not it is for a mission is up to you :D I saw some react prompts lately and was like ohhh. Perhaps playing dress up with Omega? I dunno.

Did you say... WEDDING DRESS??? 🤩🤩🤩🤩askfidich this request is too cute!!!!

This one shot does not contain spoilers for Season Two. Please do not discuss spoilers in reblogs/comments.

Notes: No warnings, just fluff. First kiss, You make Hunter's heart go doki doki. Divider by @saradika

Sweet Nothings (Sergeant Hunter x fem!Reader)

Hunter was being incredibly patient for a man so tired. You had offered to take Omega out on a shopping trip specifically to get her out of his hair, but when he offered to come with you, Omega refused to let him back out. So now he sat slouched on the bench in front of the dressing rooms, waiting for you and Omega to show off your latest finds from what passed as a dress store on Ord Mantell.

"Can I get some help, please?" Omega asked.

"Everything alright?" Hunter tried his best to not sound panicked as he leaped to Omega's aid. You giggled, in your own dressing room stall, hearing the cacophony of your purchases falling off his lap and onto the floor.

"I can't reach the zipper on the back," she said. You pulled on the dress Omega had chosen for you, listening for the telltale zip of Hunter pulling Omega's zipper closed.

"Osik," He hissed in frustration.

"Language!" Omega scolded loudly.

"Sorry," Hunter apologized abashedly, and you smirked to yourself. You had almost brought your own dress fitting to a standstill, listening to Hunter and Omega.

"Hunter?"

"Yeah, kid?" he gave another frustrated grunt as he dealt with the zipper.

"Thanks for coming with us."

"No problem, kid." Your heart melted at the gentle tone he took with Omega, despite his current irritation with her clothes.

"Aha!" Hunter sounded proud with himself as the dress finally zipped closed.

Omega squealed with delight. "Thank you Hunter!"

There was a rushing of feet, and then a pounding on your dressing room door. You quickly zipped up your own dress so that you could answer.

"Look at this one!" Omega said, spinning around.

It was a magical bright blue dress, layered with glitter and tulle so that she sparkled when she spun for you.

"Omega you look amazing!" You told her. Taking her hand, you led her in another spin.

Omega's laughter rang though the dressing rooms, "Hunter, what do you think?" She asked, lifting the skirt in a curtsey.

You looked at Hunter expectantly, but instead of looking at Omega, he was looking right back at you.

He mumbled something unintelligible, and when Omega prompted him to speak up he shook his head.

"You look amazing, kid. You think you'll get this one?" Was that just a hint of hope in his tone?

Omega placed both hands on her hips and faced the mirror, carefully discerning her appearance with her bottom lip jutting out.

"I'm not sure. I still have a couple more to try on."

She flounced back into her dressing room and shut the door. Hunter, to his credit, gallantly tried not to groan.

"Seriously, Hunter, thank you for coming with us. The extra eye is...helpful." You inwardly cursed that was all you could thank him for.

"Well, I'm glad I can help," He folded his arms, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.

"What're you wearing? I've never seen a dress like that before."

"Oh!" You flushed and ran your hands over the lace and silk woven together, "Um...it's a wedding dress," You knew you mumbled it, but Hunter heard it all the same.

"I know, it's lacey and poofy and it looks stupid, and I'm not even dating anyone but it looked absolutely stunning and Omega said I should try it on, so-"

"You look gorgeous." Hunter interrupted you abruptly.

You had to stand still for a moment, and take it in.

"Thank you," You said softly. And turned to look at yourself in the mirror.

Living on the run for the past few years didn't exactly equate to wearing ballgowns all the time. You felt out of place in the layers of tulle that made up the poofy skirt, but as Hunter moved your things out of the way to let you get a good look at yourself you started to see a bit of what he could see

"Yeah, you're gorgeous," Hunter said, sounding so confident that you could actually believe it. He smiled at you in the mirror's reflection, and you had to look away. If you kept eye contact with him for too much longer, you were going to melt through the floor.

"Are you going to get it?" He asked.

You shook your head, gathering the skirts into your arms, "Heavens no. This is highly inappropriate for any kind of undercover mission, and much to expensive." You marched back into the dressing room, intent on changing into one of the sleek gowns you had selected for the occasion.

Hunter merely shrugged, "You could always save it for later."

You froze again. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

"Hunter! I need help with the zipper again!" Omega threw open the door to her dressing room, halfway out of her dress with limited flexibility.

"I'm on it, kid."

You closed the door to get changing, but you couldn't stop thinking about what Hunter had just said to you. You liked Hunter a lot, but living on the run from the Empire just didn't afford luxuries like falling in love. You'd been trying to have a shopping trip like this with Omega for ages, and the only reason you were actually able to get away was because your latest assignment from Cid was going to require such measures as a revealing, slinky dress.

And then there was Hunter himself. He was always so stressed, so tired, a relationship had to be the last thing on his mind, particularly when it came to taking care of Omega. You thought back to those single-dad holofilms that were always playing on the Holomark channel and how much you absolutely adored them, but pushed them from your mind. This wasn't a holofilm; this was real life.

"What's a wedding dress?" Omega talked quietly. Perhaps she didn't know just how lacking the dressing rooms were in soundproofing. You halted your racing thoughts to listen intently.

"Well, um, a wedding is when two people, two adults," Hunter clarified, "who love each other very much, decide that they want to spend the rest of their lives together. So they have a celebration, and people usually wear a white dress."

"Can I wear a wedding dress when I have a wedding?" Omega asked.

"Absolutely. Whatever you want, ad'ika," Hunter chuckled.

"Will you wear a wedding dress when you get married?" Omega asked innocently.

Hunter sighed. "I don't know if I ever will get married, kid."

You clutched at the fabric of your skirt to resist gasping or making any noise that would give you away. But Hunter's enhanced hearing had to pick up everything. So much for that fantasy.

"Why not?" Omega persisted, dress shopping forgotten.

"I just- I don't know, kid."

"Don't you have anyone that you want to spend the rest of your life with?"

"Well..." Hunter sighed, "It's complicated."

"More complicated than fighting the Empire?" For all of Omega's innocence, it was hard to forget everything she'd seen in her short lifetime.

Hunter chuckled at that, "Well, there is someone..." He tried to whisper, but wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"Do we know them?" Omega was even worse at it.

"Yes, yes you do."

Omega giggled, "Then ask them!"

"It's not that simple, kid."

"You're no fun." Omega humphed, "You should at least try!"

"Okay, okay, change out of that dress already," Hunter teased her, shutting the door to let her change in peace.

"You never said that you wouldn't!" Omega reminded him.

You bit your lip so hard it bled. Did you dare hope that you were the person Hunter thought about marrying? Someday? In the not-to-distant future?

Only one way to find out.

You opened the door just a crack. He was diligently picking up your things that had been knocked over, placing perfumes and makeup pallettes back in their proper bags, even folding up the jacket Omega had been desperate to buy.

"Hunter?"

"Yeah?"

You made sure you didn't have any hair caught in the top of your zipper.

"Can you get the zipper started for me? I can't quite reach it."

He didn't even hesitate. You felt the skirts bunching against the back of your legs as he stepped within reach, deftly grasping the tiny thing that passed as a zipper on such an elegant gown.

You could feel it brushing down your neck to the top of your back.

"There," He said, a traitorous trembling in his voice, "That should get you started."

"Thanks," You said, air thinning in your lungs. He wasn't leaving. Not that you wanted him to. You could feel his breath on your neck and you were desperate to feel more. More of him, like his arm on your waist or his hand in yours; you were desperate to feel this close to him, as often as you could.

"Cyar'ika, sweetheart, I-"

"I have something I wanted to say," You interrupted and turned to face him, but he was much closer than you expected.

You were so surprised to come nose-to-nose with him that you stumbled back, tripping on the skirt of the dress. And then, just as you had dreamed, his arm shot out and wrapped around your waist, holding you upright. You could feel his fingers digging in the back of the dress, pulling it closed as he tried to hold you upright.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"I'm fine," Your arms were trapped between your torso and his, leaving you no place to rest them but against his chest.

Hunter took a deep breath, "So, what was it you wanted to say?"

You gulped a mouthful of fresh air, but hardly any of it reached your lungs.

"I-I, I wanted to say...I just...I-"

Hunter said nothing, waiting patiently as you stumbled over your words, but his face was getting closer, eyes half-lidded, but still glistening in the dim light of your stall. Oh those eyes. You could get lost in those eyes.

You didn't know what else to say except, "Can I kiss you?"

"Please," He begged.

You raised your fingertips to tilt his chin just a bit farther so that his lips met yours.

His lips were soft, if a bit chapped. With how nervous you were, yours were a bit dry as well, but that seemed to be the only downside of the kiss. As far as you were concerned with your own personal experience, Hunter was the perfect kisser. Gentle, but firm. Not pushing too far, but braving the waters where you let him. After a moment or two, you leaned back, and Hunter let you. He simply asked for you to stay by nudging his forehead against yours, allowing you to breathe in his closeness as you stroked the stubble on his chin.

"I never thought about the stubble."

"Hmm?" He asked.

"Whenever I imagined kissing you..." You flushed as you realized the implications of that statement, "...I never thought of how the stubble would feel."

"Is it a bad feeling, or a good feeling?" He asked, "Because if it's bad, I'll just shave."

"Don't you dare," You warned him playfully, "It's a good feeling."

"Good." He pulled you upright, zipping the dress closed again.

"You're thinking that far ahead already?" You asked, tapping his cheek, "You're more scandalous than I thought."

"I think we're gonna have to get you this one, mesh'la," he said.

He turned to kiss your fingertip, catching you completely by surprise.

"You should see yourself in the mirror," Hunter steered you around to face the mirror on the back of the door, this time with his hands around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. Posed like this, you felt every bit the gorgeous he told you that you were. You could almost imagine him in a dark suit. Burgundy, definitely, not something as boring as plain black. And with his hair pulled back in a partial ponytail, you would never make him get rid of the bandana completely, even on his wedding day.

"You're breathtaking, cyar'ika," he whispered in earnest, "I'd fight an arena full of nexus to see you look this happy all the time."

You had no words to respond to that. How could you? What could compare to this confession he'd just made to you?

"I...I can't wear this undercover though," You stammered out.

"But you look so pretty!" Omega interrupted.

You gave a jolt in Hunter's arms, though you shouldn't have been so nervous about being found out.

"When's the wedding?" She beamed up at Hunter. She was wearing a red dress now. Not as floofy as the other dress she'd shown off, but still beautiful.

Hunter kept one arm around your waist, ruffling a hand through Omega's hair. "Not for a long time, kid."

Omega marched back into her dressing room, pouting, and you couldn't help the laugh at her outburst.

"Well," Hunter sighed, "I guess I need to find a suit to go with your dress, huh? Can't have anyone thinking you're not taken."

"Am I taken?" You asked him.

Hunter kissed your cheek, and murmured against your skin, "If you let me, cyar'ika, I'd be the happiest man in the galaxy.

You thought for a moment, swaying back and forth in his arms, "Now how can I refuse an offer like that?"

#single father hunter my beloved #lizart writes #sergeant hunter #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #wedding dresses #marriage #the bad batch x reader

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zlebooks · 2 years

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𓂃 childe + frosting or fondant?

it's 3 am, you want to sleep but childe would rather talk about cake toppings.

under different circumstances, you would've thought that childe's sudden interest in cake decorations is cute.

but then again, it's 3 in the morning and you're sleep deprived from waiting up for your very drunk boyfriend. you're beginning to regret introducing the ginger to venti— how the both of them managed to evade the consequences of drinking God knows how many pints of beer is beyond you.

"babe, frosting or fondant?"

"for what?"

"the cake, duh." childe deadpans, his eyes almost shutting on its own— from intoxication or from sleep depravity, you didn't know.

"frosting then? fondant makes me sick."

the drunk man hums in agreement, muttering something along the lines of 'this is why i love you' under his breath.

"how many tiers? i personally want three because we officially started going out on our third date!" he pauses before giggling akin to a highschool girl in love, "remember when you said yes when i asked to be your boyfriend?"

"yeah. i'm starting to regret going out with you though." you sigh as you stare at the ceiling above you.

childe jolts up, elbowing your side in doing so before he hovers above your face. his breath fans you on the nose, making you scrunch in disgust from the mixed smell of alcohol and mint toothpaste. "what's that supposed to mean?" your boyfriend whines, shaking your entire body

"it means that i'd very much like to sleep. can't you decorate your cake tomorrow or something?"

"dunno, can't you sleep tomorrow instead?"

you shut your eyes as you groan in annoyance. childe is already unreasonable when sober, but drunk? prayers will be sent.

"ajax, it's 3 am already! how could a cake be any more important than my eight hours of sleep?"

your boyfriend gasps and you don't know if he's actually offended by the absurdity or he's just being overdramatic. "it's not just a cake!"

fuming, he adds, "it's a wedding cake!"

"and whose wedding are you meddling with?"

"ours!"

a beat of silence passes by and another. and then it's followed by another, and one more until a whole minute is spent in stillness. neither of you move to speak, that is until childe chokes out a hushed response.

"unless we're not on the same page?"

"oh my god ajax. if you propose to me while suffocating me to death, i swear to god i am going to kick your balls so hard that when you wake up tomorrow, it'll still be painful."

childe, who lets go of his breath that he didn't even know he was holding, smiles foolishly at you. "that's not a no."

you roll your eyes, "it wasn't a yes either."

the ginger hums before rolling off of you. he now lays beside you, but it still didn't change the fact that he's still clinging unto you as if he were a koala.

"i'm going to marry you someday," he whispers against your cheek, "we'll have a big cake with all of our favorite toppings."

you turn to your side, now facing him. "are you sure about marrying me? i'm a handful."

childe rolls his eyes, not believing the words that left your mouth. the both of you knows who's a real handful.

"it doesn't matter babe," peck. "i've got two hands." peck.

"yes. now use that hands to cover your mouth, i'm going to sleep."

your boyfriend (almost fiancee?) grumbles a disagreement under his breath but still goes quiet nonetheless. you sigh in content as you finally get the chance to fall into slumber peacefully. wrapping your arms around your lover, you bid him a quiet good night.

"do you think peonies and daisies would be a good combination for your bouquet?"

"ajax!"

childe went to bed with a bruised thigh that night.

♥︎ please do not repost or translate without my permission . reblogs are heavily appreciated!

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin angst #childe #tartaglia #childe x reader #childe imagines #childe headcanons #childe fluff #childe angst #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia fluff #tartaglia angst

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bratshaws · 8 months

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through the hourglass 233. brb x oc

a/n: ah yes, horny rooster is the best rooster (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: A BIT SUGGESTIVE BUT NOTHIGN MORE

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

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Beatrice knew when Bradley had something in his mind because he’d spend some time staring at the ceiling, hands behind his head and eyes locked on whatever shape was above his gaze. She stops by the bathroom door, rubbing her hands together to spread the moisturizer evenly on her skin, “Roos?” she calls once, smiling when her husband’s eyes turned to her, “Hey,handsome.”

She slowly approaches the bed, crawling on the mattress and then finally settling on his lap, hands on his bare chest, “What’s on your mind? You’ve been quiet ever since Nikki went to sleep.”

“Hm.”

“Roos.” she cups his cheeks “What’s the matter? Why are you so quiet right now?”

Rooster's distant gaze gradually refocused as he met Beatrice's concerned eyes. He offered her a faint smile but didn't say anything for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully.

"Sorry, babe," he finally spoke, his voice low and contemplative. "I've just had a lot on my mind lately. “ his hands caressed the back of her thighs, doing up her spine then all the way down, “I’m just…I don’t know.”

“I have all the time for you.”

He chuckles softly, kissing her forehead a few times, “Course you do, gorgeous.” he whispers, falling back down onto the pillow, biting the inside of his cheek, “Mav’s talking about retirement.” he mutters, tsking softly, ‘Or…something of the sort.”

“Mav?” she questions, sitting on his lap, eyebrows furrowed, “Wait…Maverick, Pete Mitchell, your uncle is talking about retirement?”

“Yep.”

Beatrice frowns, caressing his cheek, “...and that bothers you doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He inhales quietly, one of his hands coming up to rub his jaw as he thinks about his response. Because Maverick was the one father figure he had? Because he wanted more time with him, even if it was in the Navy and both of them were in different areas? Even if he was in the air and Maverick was on land?? “I dunno.”

Beatrice could see the turmoil in Rooster's eyes.She leaned in closer, her voice soft and reassuring. "Roos, it's okay to feel this way. Maverick means a lot to you, and it's natural to want to spend more time with him."

“He doesn’t want to retire.” his frown turned into a proud smirk as he said that, “Stubborn ass that he is, he’s going to make the higher ups keep him on the air, he’s not going to just accept to stay on land so often.”

Beatrice smiles back, folding her arms on his bare chest to keep her eyes on him. "He's always been a pilot through and through," she agreed. "And stubborn.”

“You can say that again.”

“Well,if he doesn’t want to retire then…” she shrugs, making some of her hair fall on her face and Rooster tucked it behind her ear before she could, “Why are you upset about it?”

He let out a sigh, his brows furrowing as he tried to put his feelings into words. "It's not that I'm upset about him not retiring, babe," he began, "it's just... well, it's complicated.”

Rooster ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling once more as he spoke. "I guess part of it is that I...I’ve never seen Mav not doing this." he gestures to the air, “Like, flying, the Navy, I’ve never seen him doing anything but this.” he chews the inside of his lips, “...I think,I think it’s…it’s because it kinda connects us together.”

Oh.

“And my dad.” he whispers, “It connects the three of us.”

Beatrice stares at him once he goes silent, inhaling quietly as she plays with her fingers, trying to figure out what to say back to him without hurting his feelings. She knew he’d understand, he often did, but it never hurt to be cautious.

Beatrice reached out and gently placed her hand on Rooster's cheek,rubbing the tiny scar he had there. "I understand, Roos," she said softly. "You don’t want to lose that connection, which you…won’t, you know? He’s still going to be there,for you,for us, for the kids."

Rooster turned his head to look at her, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Yeah," he replied, his voice a little shaky. "I know it’s just…I’m used to seeing him around and we have lunch together most of the time." he smiles sweetly, “We have our own table in the cafeteria. Kinda…reminds me of when I was a kid and he’d take me out for a burger and shakes.”

Beatrice's smile widened as she listened to Rooster's reminiscing. "That sounds really special," she said. "How old were you?”

He sighs, playing with the end of her shirt, ‘...Eleven? I think? I had just cut my chin while playing soccer and my mom was really nervous about it, Maverick showed up, took me to some of that greasy goodness and we…spent the whole day together.”

His chest inflates when he takes a deep breath, Beatrice was still on top of him, and his eyes turned to the side, “...feels stupid.I know it’d happen, but,I dunno, seem’s weird it’d happen now.”

“Mav is over sixty already,Roos.” she whispers, “He doesn’t show it, but he is.”

“He’s better than half of the new recruits there.” he mutters, “Better than half of our higher ups. I can’t believe they are still pissing on him about stuff.”

“They are still bothering him?”

Rooster clenched his jaw, his annoyance evident. "They never stopped,gorgeous. First it was the drones, then they want to keep him doing paperwork?Mav hates paperwork, but he’s great doing it, he just hates sitting down and being…stable." he frowns, “I think they are just annoyed he remained a captain and refused any sort of promotion.”

Beatrice hums,rubbing the tiny scars on his chin - his chest immediately relaxed when she did that- “We never talked about that.” she whispers, “About why Mav always said no. Do you…have any idea why?”

"I've never asked him directly," Rooster admitted, his brow furrowing in thought. "But I have a feeling it has to do with his need for freedom. Mav's always been the kind of guy who wants to be out there, in the field, making a difference. He hates being tied down by bureaucracy or desk work."

Beatrice nodded in understanding, her fingers still gently tracing the scars on Rooster's chin. "So, it's not about competence or ambition. It's about his love for the job."

Rooster smiled at her,. "Exactly, gorgeous. Mav's a warrior at heart, and I think he feels like he can make a bigger impact out in the field than behind a desk. And I'll always have his back, no matter what."

“I know.” she whispers, “Even if that means arguing with the higher ups?” she questions and it was like she popped out a can he was trying to keep closed. In reality, Bradley’s promotion could give him a bit of leverage amongst the higher ups - he’d be a Lieutenant-Commander, that had to count for something - when it comes to Mav.

Rooster sighed, realizing that Beatrice had touched on a sensitive topic. His mouth parted,then closed, then opened again as he sighed. "You know me too well, babe. I won't hesitate to argue with the higher-ups if it means getting Mav the recognition and freedom he deserves." he frowns, “It might be…too much but, it’s Mav. Everyone knows him, about him…he helped us so much.”

Beatrice smiled, her eyes filled with love and admiration for her husband. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Roos. But please, please be careful?”

“I will be,” he says, “I won’t do anything, at all, I’ll just talk to Mav and see what goes on, he will come up with something. I know he will.” his hand is still playing with the bottom of her shirt and Rooster’s head falls back on the pillow, “He has surprised me many times before.

Beatrice shifted closer to Rooster, her concern etched across her face as she cups his chin. "Just promise me that you'll think things through before you dive into any conflicts," she said softly. "Mav is more than your uncle, he’s our friend, and we want what's best for him, but we also need to be cautious about how we approach this."

Rooster turned his head to meet her gaze,whisky colored eyes meeting her green ones. "I promise, babe. I won't rush into anything. I'll talk to Mav first, and we'll come up with a plan together. We'll handle this the right way. if there’s any need for one.”

Beatrice smiled, her fingers brushing a lock of Rooster's hair away from his forehead. "That's why I love you, Roos.” she says,”Because you are all in for the people you love.”

Rooster grinned, his hand moving to cup her cheek affectionately. "Thank you,babe. I can’t say you are that much different from me.” he kisses her one more time, hugging her close to his chest.

As they lay together in the quiet of their bedroom,the clicking of Eleanor’s claws coming and going from the hallway being the only thing they could hear, Beatrice couldn't help but ask him something. "Roos," she began, breaking the peaceful silence, "what…exactly does a Lieutenant-Commander does?”

“To be completely honest, it’s not that different from what I do now.” he says, popping his chin on her head “Lieutenant-Commander is a fancy way of saying I'm in charge of a bunch of stuff on the ship. Same old,same old."

‘Hm.”

“Why?”

“I just like hearing your voice.” she jokes, smiling up at him. He huffs out a laugh, kissing her nose as she giggles at him, “No,but seriously, I’m just proud of you.”

His gaze softens alongside his smile as he hears those words come out of her mouth. ‘...I know,babe.”

"You've accomplished so much, and you're an incredible husband and father."

Rooster's smile widened, and he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. "We make a good team, don't we, babe?"

She nodded, resting her head against his chest as they swayed gently back and forth. "We do." her gaze turns to the side, seeing the time and parting her lips, “We should sleep.” she tries to climb off his body but he holds her there, ‘Roos.”

“Do we?” he coos, hands going down to cup each butt cheek with his large hands, “Really?” his lips trail down her jawline until he reaches her neck, playfully nipping the skin there, “Cause I think we can stay up a little while longer.”

Beatrice gasps quietly when he pushes his pelvis up to hers, eyelids fluttering, “I…y-you are right. W-We can.” she squeaks in surprise when he flips their position so he’s on top of her, giving her a full on ‘im ready to eat you’ grin.

“Atta girl.” he says as he slaps her ass, “I love how you think.”

Beatrice had so much to do that morning, why did her husband have to be so attractive and keep them awake so late? She couldn’t really complain now,could she? She bites her lower lip trying to hold back her smile as she pulls her hair up in a ponytail, then looks around for her keys, “We’re going to the park Nikki,” she tells her daughter, who’s just lying on her stomach with Eleanor and Jack lying next to her.

She hums a bit, pulling the lycra pants up her waist and wincing when it accidentally slaps her hips, “Ow,” she whispers, “Damn it.” she pats her body a bit, then groans, “Damn it, I need my phone- stay there,Nikki!”

Nicole just gave her mother a small smile over the shoulder before her gaze returned to the screen where Dr.Chimp was playing.

Beatrice quickly searched the living room for her phone, muttering to herself as she went. "Where did I put that thing? It was here last night." She checked the coffee table, the couch cushions, and even under a few magazines before finally spotting her phone on the kitchen counter.

With a relieved sigh, she grabbed her phone and checked the time. She still had a bit of a time buffer before their trip to the park.She then did a double take…because there was another phone right next to hers, “Oh,oh no.” she picks it up and as soon as she grabs it, she sees the background - her cheeks reddening because he still had their picture at her aunt’s wedding as his lock screen and their wedding photo on the main screen - and widens her eyes, “Oh no,Roos forgot his phone!”

She chews her lower lip,checking the time, “I wonder if…I can…give it to him at the base?”

As she glanced at the time, a flicker of concern crossed her mind. Rooster had probably already started his work at the base, and he might need his phone during the day.

Beatrice made a quick decision. She grabbed her own phone and quickly looked up the base's contact information. After finding the number for the front desk, she dialed it, hoping to reach someone who could help her get in touch with her husband.

"Naval Base San Diego, how can I assist you?" a voice on the other end of the line answered.

Beatrice cleared her throat, trying to sound composed. "Hello, this is Beatrice Bradshaw. My husband, Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, forgot his phone at home this morning. Is there any way I can get in touch with him to return it?"

The voice on the other end of the line paused for a second, then returned with a “Oh!Mrs.Bradshaw! So nice to finally meet you! You know, your husband talks about you all the time.”

Her cheeks warmed up,”Oh..um…really??”

"Yes, ma'am," the voice on the other end continued warmly. "He's always mentioning how lucky he is to have you. Let me see if I can reach him for you."

Beatrice could only let out a nervous laugh as she waited, chewing her lower lip. She heard some clicking on the line, indicating that the person on the other end was trying to connect her call to Rooster's office. She also couldn’t deny how sweet it was that Rooster spoke so highly of her to his colleagues.

And everyone, for that matter.

After a brief pause, another voice came on the line. "Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw speaking. How can I assist you?"

Oh.

Oh. That…that was nice.

Beatrice cleared her throat, cheeks still warm as she tries to compose herself to talk to her husband. "Roos, it's me.You left your phone at home this morning."

There was a moment of silence on the other end,then the subtle ‘pat pat pat’ around his uniform before he grunted "Oh shit."

“Yeah…” she pauses, “So um…should I…what should I do? What would be easier for you? Can I bring it to you?” could she? She visited the base once after all…

Rooster's voice on the other end of the line sounded slightly flustered. "Uh, yeah, that would be great, babe. I can't really function without my phone at work. Where can we meet?"

Beatrice thought for a moment. "Well, I could come by the base and drop it off for you. Just tell me where to meet you, and I'll be there."

Rooster hummed on the other end, then there was the noise of paper being messed around before he returned, “Alright, can you come by the base entrance in about an hour? I'll be waiting for you there."

“Oh, okay, you sure?”

“Yeah, it’ll be lunch time then,” he replies, fixing something on his end, “It’ll be okay. And there won’t be any issues.”

“Oh,okay then.” she says while playing with the lycra on her pants, “I’ll see you then…Lieutenant-Commander.” she couldn’t help it, not when his voice sounded so attractive and professional and…just hot.

His silence on the other end was a great answer, “Bea…”he warns.

“Well,it’s your title isn’t it?”

Rooster let out a low chuckle, his voice softening. "Not yet but you've got a way of making that title sound... interesting,"

"Well, maybe I'll have to remind you of your Lieutenant-Commander duties later." another sharp inhale from his end, “Sorry,am I distracting you?”

“You,” he breathes out, “You are a minx.”

Beatrice's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment,lower lip sliding between her teeth, "Well, you do…bring the best out of me," she replied with a mischievous giggle. "But I promise to be on my best behavior when I bring you your phone."

“Gorgeous.” he’s almost pleading “Baby,love of my life, don’t do this to me. I’m at work and it’s hurting me.”

Beatrice laughs again, “See you in one hour,handsome.” he almost whined in complaint, “Love you!”

“...I love you too,baby. One hour.” she knew he wanted to say more, but held himself back out of safety, “Until then.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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elm-writes-stories · 4 months

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Cuphead: Isle of Memories (Rewrite)

*Hey guys! Happy New Year! I'm sorry that I've published this late! I've been busy with work and had been running into a writer's block, but I'm back! Anyway, this episode is published on January 1, 2024. If you guys like this chapter, don't be afraid to heart, reblog, and comment! That would be greatly appreciated! Happy New Year and let's hope this year will be a good year! Enjoy!*

Episode Eleven: Turning Up the Charm

Today was a relaxing day for once in Mugman’s life.

No demons. No Tremaine.

Just him reading a story with Cassidy sitting on his lap to read. Her purring were the only sounds that he could listen to all day. Now, he wished every day could be like this. It didn’t help he was sitting on the bean bag in the corner of the library Djimmi made.

She was resting her eyes while they were reading, which was causing him to fall asleep reading the story with her. And he didn’t mind as long as she was in his arms. But he could’ve sworn he would accidentally drop the book falling asleep like this. He started to move around to close the book, which woke her up a little.

“Oh, sorry,” Mugman whispered to her while putting the book back on the shelf.

“It’s okay,” she said tiredly, cuddling her head on his shoulder. Her paws were making biscuits on his shirt with a content smile.

Once he put the book away, he leaned back so that she could get comfortable laying on him. A smile formed his face. He began resting his eyes and holding her in his arms.

Before he could sink into a deep sleep, Chalice appeared by his side as a ghost.

“Mugsy!” Chalice shouted with a sudden urgency, waking both Mugman and Cassidy up with yelps and jolts.

Mugman took a few deep breaths with a groan. “Chalice…”

“I have a crisis,” Chalice replied. “It’s urgent…and, uh, private.”

“Private?” Mugman questioned.

Chalice nodded her head. “I promise it’ll be real quick.”

“Okay…” Mugman moved a little while Cassidy scooted off of him. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” Cassidy said while watching him get up from the bean bag.

He felt his legs ache from letting Cassidy sit on his lap for too long. He shook off the aches and followed Chalice around the corner away from Cassidy.

“So, what exactly do you need from me?” Mugman questioned.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Chalice stated. Once they got away from Cassidy, she turned to him. “Okay, there’s been something that has been bothering me and you’re the only one…well, besides Cuphead by now, that knows what to do.”

“Uh…know what to do about what?”

“Ya know? Uh…this…um…well, you know how you are when ya first met Cassi.”

Mugman tilted his head for a moment until he realized what she was talking about. Then he smirked teasingly at her. “Yeah?”

“Well, let’s say that there’s a fella who knew how to play the violin, fix some things, and he’s a nerd when it comes to myths and legends. I dont’ know if he likes me back the same way though,” she responded.

He blinked in shock. “I thought he already likes ya.”

She blushed. “He does?!”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious.”

“Wait, we’re talkin’ about the same guy, right?” she asked.

“Canteen Hughes?” Mugman inquired.

“Yeah, we’re talkin’ about the same guy,” she said.

He arched a brow. “And you like him back.”

“Well, yeah…I mean, I think he’s neat. I dunno how this works. You and Cuphead might be the only two ding-dongs I know that knows about this kind of feeling,” Chalice replied. “Ugh, now I realize why Saltbaker kept saying he’s my future boyfriend.”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Mugman responded while rubbing his hands. “Maybe you can ask him out on a date.”

“Oh, like you did with Cassi?”

“Yeah.”

“Good one. But if I were to ask him out on the date, it has to be spectacular!”

“Uh, well, it doesn’t have to be—”

“I know! We can start arguing and then not getting along until finally we confess our feelings for each other and we are dating officially!” Chalice replied.

“Uhhh, I’m not sure that’s how romance works—”

It was sudden that Cuphead zoomed into the scene with a panicked look on his face. “Hey, Mugsy! I just asked Nat out on a date and she said yes! What do I do now?!”

“Whoa, whoa, one at a time!” Mugman shouted until he noticed his brother’s legs bruised. “Wait, what happened to your legs, Cuphead?”

“Uh…it’s a long story,” Cuphead answered nervously.

“Wait, you asked Nat out on a date?” Chalice questioned with a gasp.

“Yeah,” Cuphead responded nervously.

Chalice’s smile brightened. “Way to go, Cups! I knew you had it in you! Now, I have a question for you. How did you do it?”

“Do what?” Cuphead asked.

“Ask her out on a date?” Chalice persisted.

“I dunno. We got ourselves into a dangerous situation and kind of confessed our feelings to each other. I mean, we kissed on the lips first and then I asked her out on a date,” Cuphead responded.

“Wait, what?!” Chalice and Mugman gasped.

“You jumped into it?!” Mugman shouted.

“No, she kissed first!” Cuphead said immaturely.

“Aww,” Chalice replied. “Wait, you said you were in a dangerous situation?”

“Yeah?” Cuphead uttered.

“And you confessed to each other about your feelings?”

“Yes.”

She pondered for a moment and then smirked mischievously. “That gives me an idea.”

“Wait, Mugman, which one of you kiss on the lips first? You or Cassi?” Cuphead asked.

“We haven’t kiss each other on the lips yet,” Mugman answered sheepishly.

“WHAT?! You two have been together all this time and haven’t kissed each other on the lips yet?!” Cuphead yelled.

“Not so loud, Cuphead!” Mugman whispered harshly to his brother.

Chalice groaned impatiently. “Can we get back to the matter at hand?”

Mugman nodded. “Yes, yes, please.”

“How did you two ding-dongs get those girls to like ya? Let alone letting girls kiss ya first?” Chalice asked the brothers.

The cup brothers were silent for a moment while looking at each other. Then they glanced back at Chalice.

“I dunno,” Cuphead responded.

“Yeah, me neither,” Mugman replied.

Chalice slapped her forehead with a sigh in discouragement. “I thought you both would be more experts on romance.”

“Chalice, I just asked Nat out on a date. I don’t know how I got her to even like me,” Cuphead responded. “I mean, I did tell her how I feel about her.”

“Yeah, I did the same to Cassidy…although I thought I was confessing it to you,” Mugman said while looking at his brother.

“Hey, at least, you got together with Cassi thanks to me,” Cuphead replied with a smirk.

“So, I guess I got to tell him how I feel then,” Chalice replied, pondering. “While turning up that charm of acting like a ding-dong! That’s what I’ll do! I get him to come with me on a perilous journey, get trapped in a cave with him, confess to him on how I feel, and then ask him on a date. Or kiss him on the lips first and then ask him out on a date. Whichever works!”

“Uh,” the brothers uttered.

“Thanks, fellas! Wish me luck!” Chalice said as she flew away.

Cuphead and Mugman froze and looked at each other.

“Should we go after her?” Cuphead questioned.

“Nah, she’ll be fine,” Mugman responded and shifted his attention back to Cuphead. “Soooo, you asked Nat on the date, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Cuphead said with a blush. “Mind helpin’ me out?”

“Helping out?”

The cup brothers turned to see Cassidy walking to them.

“Oh, Cassi,” Mugman replied excitedly and hurried over to her. “Sorry I was taking so long to get back to you.”

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “I was wondering about what’s happenin’ with Chalice.”

“She’s on her own journey. Say, maybe you could help us,” Mugman suggested to his girlfriend.

“Ooh, help with what?” Cassidy asked excitedly.

“You see, Cuphead just asked Nat out on a date,” Mugman replied.

“Hey, no need on tellin’ the whole world about it,” Cuphead responded defensively.

“Shush,” Mugman replied, continuing to talk to Cassidy. “I’m going to get Cuphead a nice suit for his date. Do you think you would want to help Natalie with getting ready for the date? Kind of like what they did with us?”

Cassidy seemed uneasy for a moment, which was noticed by Mugman.

“Oh, you don’t have to help if you don’t want to,” Mugman replied.

“No, I want to,” Cassidy said. “It’s just…I’m never a fashion expert. Natalie knows more than I do and I feel like I’m going to mess it up for her.”

“You won’t,” Mugman said softly. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Cassidy thought about it. Her ears perked as soon as an idea struck her. “Ooh! I know someone else who’s a fashion expert!”

The red feline kissed Mugman on the cheek and ran off with a newfound determination.

Mugman gazed at her with a lovey-dovey smile.

Cuphead rubbed his arm. “So, are you gonna help me pick out a suit?”

“Yeah!” Mugman said excitedly. “Right this way, my dear brother!”

Cuphead walked with Mugman while rolling his eyes.

~.~

Canteen had been trying to get back into building things in his tent.

Ever since he was a kid, he had a mechanic family that didn’t have a happy family. Remembering those families that died all those years ago still brought him back to that trauma. However, he wanted to build something…something like a plane.

Canteen had been drawing on a blueprint paper of all the screws and parts needed to build a plane on his wooden desk, but his mind started to drift off today.

Instead of drawing screws, he drew a face on the blueprint. His pencil outlined the details of the person’s face and he found himself drawing Chalice. It appeared to be accurate to the detail. He kept drawing her face, including her eyes and her dimples when she smiled. Then he drew her torso and a skirt she always wore since he first met her. Her heels were last. A smile came on his face as he drew more in detail.

“Whatcha drawin’?” A familiar cheery voice spoke beside him.

Canteen jumped with a yelp and covered the drawing of Chalice. He looked over his shoulder to find Chalice floating next to him.

“Uh…nothing. Nothing…j-just working on a new project,” Canteen stuttered with his face red.

“Ooh, can I see?” Chalice asked excitedly.

“Uh…i-it’s not really complete yet.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind seein’ it anyway. Unless you don’t want me too—”

“No! No, uh, I just…uh, haven’t sketch the full picture yet.”

She turned into her physical form with a bright grin. “Well, you can show me it when you’re ready! But, on a fun side of things, I got an adventure we both can go on! Together!”

“T-Together? As in me and you together?”

“Yep! I heard that there’s a really cool place that we can explore together! It’s about…maybe thirty miles from this place. What d’ya say we go and see what’s there?”

Canteen blushed at the thought of going with Chalice someplace. “Um…yeah, sure.”

“Alright! Let’s go!” Chalice started to walk away.

“Wait,” Canteen urged while leaving the blueprint behind. “Where are we going exactly?”

“Well, that’s for me to know and you to find out,” she said with a wink.

He blushed and followed her out of the camp.

~.~

Natalie had been pacing in front of the ship with her anxious thoughts running through her liquid mind. She couldn’t believe she said yes to dating Cuphead. First, she kissed him and then she accepted his offer for a date.

She had been many dates before because her mother forced her too and most of them were little boys richer than her. Or guys that were way older than she liked to admit. And of course, she chased away the dates who were boys her age. She always thought it was them, but now she believed it to be her once she realized how badly she mistreated Cassidy. Natalie couldn’t believe that it took Cassidy being under the Devil’s control to wake her up.

“Natalie—”

Natalie screeched and spun around to find Cassidy behind her. She grabbed her chest and sighed in relief. “Oh, Cassi, it’s just you. Sorry, I was thinking about stuff.”

Cassidy gave her a smirk. “About your date with Cuphead?”

Natalie’s face turned redder than a tomato. “How did you—?”

“Cuphead told Mugman and Mugman told me,” the red cat said.

“Oh,” Natalie uttered while rubbing her arm nervously.

“And I came to help you get ready for your date. You know, the same way you helped me get ready for a date with Mugman.”

Natalie frowned. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I remembered,” Cassidy said. She noticed Natalie’s frown. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t think you would remember what I’ve done that was good.”

Cassidy softened her gaze. “Well, I would be lying if I said that you never did anything to help me.”

“Yeah, but I—”

“I want to forget the past.”

Natalie glanced up at her friend in shock. “But—”

“You have done horrible things to me in the past,” Cassidy said softly. “I stuck around you, because you were the only friend my age who even tolerated me at the time. I feel like I have to want to do things with you so that I can be around you. Or do the things only you want to do just to be around you. But you’ve changed. I’ve noticed that you’re not like that anymore.”

Natalie widened her eyes more.

“I don’t hate you, Natalie. I’ve never hated you. I’m always going to be your friend…I’ve always made that promise to you. But I want to forget about what happened in the past. It brings pain to even talk about it.”

Natalie softened her gaze and nodded. “Okay. I just want to say I’m sorry…for everything.”

“I forgive you.”

There was silence as both of the friends exchanged soft smiles.

“Now,” Cassidy began excitedly. “Let’s pick a cute dress for you.”

“But you don’t like clothes shopping,” Natalie pointed out.

Cassidy grinned. “Well, I know someone who knows about fashion. C’mon!”

She grabbed Natalie by the wrist, pulling her away from the ship and hurrying away to pick a cute outfit for her.

~.~

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Canteen asked while strolling through the forest with Chalice.

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Chalice said while looking for a cave around them to get trapped in.

Canteen didn’t seem convinced by Chalice’s answer. He looked around the forest to hear the pretty birds chirping and the sun shining through the leaves of the trees. The branches swayed to the gentle breeze, setting chills down on his spine.

He glanced at her and softly gazed at her. “Sooo, are you going to give me some hint as to where we’re going?”

She turned back with a small smirk at him. “It’s gonna blow your socks off.”

“That’s not a hint,” he teased with a blush.

“It’s some hint,” she quipped.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Look, if you think it’s my birthday, you’re way off by two months and twenty days.”

Her smirk widened. “I’ll be sure to note that. But it’s not for your birthday.”

He dropped his playful look. “Then…what are you taking me out for?”

“Well, there’s something I oughta show you and I thought you would like it—”

Both Chalice and Canteen stopped when they noticed a temple ahead of them. For some reason, the white stoned temple seemed familiar to her.

Canteen gasped in recognition of the temple. “Whoa.”

“Whoa what?”

The silver canteen headed off towards the temple, taking the lead now with fascination in his eyes.

“Canteen, wait!” Chalice chased after Canteen towards the temple.

The kids reached to the bottom of the steps, looking up at the two front statues.

Chalice softened her gaze at one of the statues of a cup woman with long wavy hair resting on her shoulder and her name engraved under her feet of her name.

“Esther Cupchal.”

Chalice frowned at the name and then looked at the other statue, a man with a cup for his head that was chipped on the side. His name was engraved under his feet as well, but it was barely readable.

“Chester Cupchal.”

Canteen focused on the entrance of the temple with an awed look. “Is this what you’re trying to show me?”

Chalice faked a smile. “Yeah, definitely. Definitely! Since ya like myths and stuff, you might like looking at a mausoleum.”

He turned to look at her and saw her fake smile. “Are you sure this is the place you want to show me?”

She waved off her emotions and took him by the hand. “Yeah. C’mon. There’s so much to look at.”

They head into the mausoleum. Once they were inside, Chalice found herself more familiar with her surroundings. She looked at more statues of familiar friends, remembering their dead bodies in the glitch of her memories. She moved her eyes away from the statues and focused forward, leaving Canteen in confusion.

Canteen noticed one of the statues that was a spoon with the name under her feet:

Silversmith Spoon.

The canteen realized that Chalice was trying to keep her gaze away from the statues. He frowned at the sight of her and hurried beside her, faking a grin.

“Hey, if you want, we can find somewhere else to explore. I’m sure there are plenty of things in the forest we can explore other than this mausoleum,” Canteen said.

She faked a smile. “Aww, I thought you liked myths and legends.”

“I do,” he replied with a blush. “But I’m sure there are more adventures out there than this old mausoleum.” As he was saying the last part, he stepped on the floor plate that sunk below his foot.

He widened his eyes in shock and looked down to see that he pressed the floor plate.

The ground began to open under their feet as they wrapped their arms around each other and fell into the dark abyss with screams.

~.~

Cassidy was guiding Natalie through the village, looking for this supposed “fashion expert” to help her find her friend a perfect dress for the date.

Natalie was surprised to see this side of Cassidy, the one who was all giddy and excited for her best friend’s date. Not that Cassidy had never been happy for Natalie before, but Natalie could see a gleam in her eyes that were filled with pure genuine joy. She knew Cassidy didn’t like clothes shopping as much as Natalie, but it didn’t feel like Cassidy was sacrificing her own happiness for Natalie’s sake. Or forcing herself to dangerous situations to please her best friend. Maybe because this time…Natalie didn’t ask her too. And maybe this time…Cassidy wanted to do this.

However, Natalie felt a slight disappointment when she was taken to Porkrind’s shop. She blinked in confusion and glanced at her best friend.

“Why are we—?”

The answer was revealed immediately after Cassidy opened the door. The girls noticed Dice leaning over the counter and talking to Porkrind, who seemed to lean a bit towards the former gambler in interest of what he was saying.

“So, here’s the thing, if we can make your shop just a tad bit fancier,” Dice began while gesturing to the shop without looking at the girls. “You should be getting more customers and more customers means more money.”

“Make it fancy?” Porkrind questioned. He crossed his arm with a brow raised. “How fancy are we talking?”

“Well…” Dice looked around the shop until he noticed the girls. “Oh, hey, girls.” He glanced at the pig to whisper, “You got your first customers.”

“Actually, Dice, we’re looking for you,” Cassidy clarified.

“Me?” King Dice glanced at Porkrind, who shrugged his shoulders. Dice shifted his attention back at the girls. “Why me?”

“We need your fashion expertise,” Cassidy replied excitedly.

A smug smile formed on the die’s lips. “Well, well, you came to the right place. So, who do we need to dress up?”

Cassidy glanced at Natalie, who waved at Dice nervously.

“Hi,” Natalie uttered.

“Hello,” Dice responded.

“She needs a perfect dress for her date with Cuphead,” Cassidy said with a bright smile.

Natalie’s entire face turned red and she smiled nervously.

“Oh,” Dice responded with a small chuckle. “I didn’t think that cup is gonna get a girl because of his lack of…well, intelligence. But I see he’s got you fallin’ for him.”

“Hey, Cuphead is not stupid,” Natalie argued with Dice in a defensive manner.

Dice blinked in shock.

Porkrind put his hand on his hip and looked at Dice with a teasing smirk at him. “Better not talk bad about her man.”

Dice giggled and glanced at the one-eyed pig. “He ain’t a man just yet.” He shifted his attention to Natalie while rubbing the bottom edge of his square face. “Buuuut…I can get you pretty up before the date. You know, if we put some light make-up and a pretty pink dress on ya, you would look fabulous. It’ll even knock Cuphead’s socks off.”

Natalie suddenly became uncomfortable when Dice offered his hand to guide her. Cassidy noticed the discomfort in her friend’s face along with Dice and Porkrind.

“You okay, Nat?” Cassidy asked with a brow raised.

Dice blinked in realization and frowned for a moment. He shook off his frown and gave Natalie a comforting smile. “Would it better if you have a lady help getting you ready for your date?”

Natalie glanced at Cassidy for a moment and then back at King Dice with a small nod.

“What—?” Cassidy seemed confused until Dice pulled her aside and whispered to her about what happened to Natalie before they went to rescue the feline from Hell. The red cat gasped in shock and glanced at her friend with a soft look.

Natalie looked away in shame and embarrassment.

Dice turned to Porkrind. “Hey, Porks, you got a phone? I gotta make a call real quick.”

Porkrind darted his gaze at Natalie and then back at Dice. He pointed at the phone hooked on the wall next to him. “Knock yourself out.”

Dice nodded and headed to the phone. He dialed the number and leaned against the wall, holding the speaker.

“Hello, is this Sally?” Dice called. An answer came, causing him to smile. “This is Dice. Uh, say, someone needs your help in dressing her up and getting her ready for her date. Do you mind helping her out?”

Dice smiled when he got a response he wanted to hear. “Great. We’re right inside of Pork’s shop. See you soon.”

He hung up the phone and glanced at the ladies. “So, I got someone on her way to help ya out.”

“Thanks, Dice,” Natalie said with a weak smile.

Not even a minute later, Sally entered the shop with a bright smile and dresses on her arms.

“I heard someone is trying to get ready for a date,” Sally replied excitedly.

Natalie rose her hand slowly. “I am.”

“Ooh, I got a bunch of pretty dresses that are not costumes. Wanna try them on?” Sally asked while showing many dresses on her arms.

Natalie nodded her head. “Sure.”

“I can come with you if it’s okay with Dad,” Cassidy said while looking at her father.

Porkrind smiled. “Yeah, yeah. Just stay safe out there and have fun.”

The feline grinned and stayed by Natalie while they walked away to go with Sally to try on dresses.

Once the girls left, Porkrind huffed a sigh and looked at his desk.

Dice noticed Porkrind’s sigh. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” Porkrind said.

“You sure?”

The one-eyed pig glanced at Dice to notice the former gambler leaning forward a bit in interest.

“It’s nothing. It’s just that…she keeps reminding me too much of an old friend I had once.”

“Shayna, right?”

Porkrind glanced at Dice in shock.

“Uh, Jerry told me about you lost her. I’m sorry for your loss.”

The pig waved it off. “It was years ago.”

Dice frowned to notice him looking away. “But it still hurts you to this day, right?”

“Sometimes.”

Dice tilted his head. “Is she Shayna’s daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…well, that puts things into perspective than.”

“What?”

“Well, most people hate red cats back then. But you didn’t because your friend was one of them. I guess it’s why you cared so much about Cassidy since she’s your friend’s daughter.”

Porkrind huffed a laugh. “You’re a detective now?”

“You can say that I’m connecting the dots here. Am I getting any of it right so far?”

The pig looked away sadly again. “Yeah, you’re getting it right.”

There was a brief silence while Dice frowned and looked away.

Porkrind noticed Dice shifting his glance away and cleared his throat to get his attention back. “You know, I’m wondering what the boys are even doing to get Cuphead ready for his date.”

Dice huffed up a laugh. “Yeah, I wonder that too.”

~.~

Mugman searched through the closet of their new home, finding a bunch of clothes he didn’t know they even had. Suits, shirts, shorts, and pants. Heck, even coats with two pairs of winter boots for the snow.

Cuphead sat at the edge of the bed while staring at his brother looking through the closet.

“Man, to think Djimmi would add clothes on top of giving us a house to live in. Oh! There’s that red suit I was lookin’ for!” He turned to show the red suit to Cuphead. “What do you think, Cuphead—?”

Mugman noticed Cuphead looking at the ground without lifting his eyes up to see the suit. He tilted his head in confusion. “Hey, aren’t you excited about your date?”

“Huh?” Cuphead snapped out of his thoughts and looked at his brother. He faked a smile. “Uh, yeah, I am.”

Mugman wasn’t convinced. “Cuphead, the date is gonna be fine as long as the Devil, the demons, and the infectees won’t find us here. Which they won’t tonight. Or any other night hopefully—”

“I ain’t worried about the date.”

“Then…you’re worried about something.”

Cuphead rubbed his hands without saying a word.

Mugman set the suit aside and sat by his brother. “Hey, if there’s somethin’ bothering ya, you know you can talk to me about it, right?”

Cuphead nodded his head, but there was no response still.

Mugman looked ahead with a sad look. “Did I…do anything that made you feel like you can’t talk to me?”

His brother shook his head. “Nah, you did nothing wrong—”

“Are you sure?”

“Mugman, it ain’t got anything to do with you. I just—” Cuphead couldn’t finish the sentence without hugging himself.

“You just what?”

“I just thought about how I was trying to help you set up for your date with Cassi. Now you’re trying to help me set up for my date with Nat. It’s kind of nice, you know? Like how you were trying to keep me from losing my soul to the Devil. And now, sometimes I feel like I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt.”

Mugman frowned while listening to his brother.

“I’m sorry I hadn’t been the best brudda to you in a past,” Cuphead said.

Mugman chuckled a bit. “I hadn’t been the best brother to you either.” He placed a hand on Cuphead’s shoulder, getting his brother’s attention. “It’s okay, Cuphead. You don’t have to feel guilty about it anymore.”

“I know…I just…can’t help but think about what it could’ve been if I ain’t so stupid.”

“Well, what you did a lot of stupid things,” Mugman corrected his brother. “Going to that carnival where the Devil tries to steal souls, getting answers wrong on Roll the Dice, stealing cookies from the cookie factory, getting ourselves arrested being in that said cookie factory, almost getting yourself injured at every turn, blowing up wood for the winter, stealing the Devil’s pitchfork—”

“Are you trying to make me feel better? Because it ain’t workin’ so far.”

Mugman sighed. “But besides all of that, Cuphead, I couldn’t have asked for a better brother who is also my best friend. You annoy me and irritate me, but you also taught me a lot of things….good things! Like being brave and making decisions that were opposite of yours when situations arise.”

“Okay…”

“You also were there for me when I’m hurt, sad, lonely, and when I needed you the most. You get me into a lot of trouble and it was all fun while it lasted. What it could’ve been doesn’t matter now. We got each other and right now, I’m gonna help you get ready for that date of yours. Just like how you helped me.”

Cuphead smiled softly. “Thanks, Mugsy.”

Mugman nodded and skipped off the subject. “Say, you want to wear the red suit or…any other suit?”

“I’ll stick with the red one since it suits me more.”

“Perfect.”

Cuphead pondered for a moment. “I wonder how Chalice was doing confessing to Canteen.”

“Oh yeah. I’m sure they’re fine.”

~.~

Canteen and Chalice were laying on the ground with groans of pain from the fall.

Chalice sprung herself up on her feet and dusted herself off. “Well, that was quite a fall—” She noticed Canteen barely standing up with wobbly legs. “Golly, Canteen, you okay?!”

“Yep…” Canteen answered with a thumbs up. “Are we still at the mausoleum?”

Chalice looked up at the hole they fell from. “Looks like we’re under it now.”

“Geez…”

“Hey, we got ourselves trapped in the cave.”

“Uh…yeah?”

“Ooh, okay. Um…how should I—how should we—?”

“We just look for the way out,” Canteen said with an obvious tone. He pointed straight ahead. “There might be something ahead. Let’s go.” He limped forward, causing concern for her.

She clenched her teeth. “Man, I didn’t think about the injuries for this trip.”

Both of them walked through the cave, shivering in the soft breeze. Canteen’s limping started to bother Chalice to the point where she contorted her face in guilt.

“Man, this is not how I would imagine this.”

“Imagine what?” Canteen asked with confusion.

“Well, you see…um, I was thinkin’ that we go on a perilous journey—without gettin’ injured…and, you know…say our deepest feelings.”

“Deepest feelings?” Canteen questioned.

“Yeah. What’s your deepest feeling right now?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Well, I’m the one that got us trapped here. I didn’t think there was a pressure plate.”

“Yeah, I didn’t see that either. Don’t feel bad. It happens.”

He frowned.

She noticed it with a curious look. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Canteen…”

He went silent for a moment until he glanced at Chalice. “Have you ever felt like…?”

She leaned a bit to listen what else he had to say.

“You know…have you ever felt like you’re a bad omen?”

Chalice blinked at the question. “A bad omen…?”

“Yeah.”

She pondered for a second. “Well, before I met the two ding-dongs, I did feel like a bad omen. But when I did meet them, I didn’t feel so…alone. I felt like I gained something that I’ve lost a long time ago. It’s…hard to explain.”

He reached his hand out for hers to comfort her until she noticed. He pulled away, blushing in embarrassment. She gave him a warm smile and held his hand. He was shocked at the gesture for a moment until he exchanged a warm smile back to her and held her hand a bit tighter.

“Soo, do you feel like a bad omen?” she asked softly.

He lost his smile. “Well…yeah. I get called ‘Bad Luck Hughes’ growing up.”

“Oh golly! Why?”

“Heh, it’s complicated.”

“I’m all for complicated, you know.”

He paused for a moment and then sighed. “Whenever I get adopted…my parents just died…”

Chalice blinked in shock.

“Like…one of the parents who adopted me got into a car accident. The other parents got themselves killed in a fight…Heck, the third time I got adopted, my parents just got jumped by a gang and died. That’s when the rumor started to spread by the caretakers in the orphanage. They would tell the parents who would think about adopting me that I was ‘Bad Luck Hughes’ and to not adopt me if they don’t want bad luck in their houses. Then the kids became afraid of me…like I was going to hurt them…and I would never hurt anyone…ever…” He started to choke out the words at the end.

She widened her eyes in shock to hear this from him. Then she watched him trying not to sob in front of her with a frown.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone ever…not even you.”

She smiled softly and held his hand tighter while listening to him break down and cry.

“Now I got us trapped in this cave and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t brought the best of luck with the group…it’s almost like every bad thing happened and I’m scared that if I lose you…I-I don’t know what would happen. I just…I guess I don’t want anything bad to take you from me.”

She blushed at his words.

He shook his head while wiping his tears away. “Sorry…that was pretty stupid thing to say.”

“It ain’t stupid. Out of all of the things I’ve heard in my past lives, you ain’t saying anything stupid.”

He glanced at her and sniffled. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she said while leaning her head against his.

He smiled softly and let her lay her head on his. They continued to walk through the cave and saw a door ahead.

“Is that the way out?” Canteen asked timidly.

Chalice opened the door. They both widened their eyes to discover there were three orbs resting on both sides of the wide hallway. One was glowing pink, one was glowing bright green, and one was glowing dark blue.

By the end of the hallway, there was a glowing pool. She stepped forward towards the pool, followed by Canteen.

“Chalice?” Canteen called, but she didn’t respond.

Her eyes started to tremble as she continued towards the pool. She looked down to find that there was no bottom of the glowing pool. She didn’t want to jump into it, but she remembered something about it…something familiar.

“I—I remember this place…”

He looked at her in shock. “What?”

She tilted her head and got on her knees, trying to find the source of the glow in the pool. “I remember this pool.”

He arched a brow in confusion. “What are you remembering?”

She glanced at him. He could see the tears in her eyes.

“I don’t know…” she said sadly.

He frowned and looked at the orbs. He was curious about the dark blue orb, but he didn’t draw near it when he turned to look at her. He came by her and sat next to her to stare at the glowing pool.

“Canteen…there’s something I oughta tell ya…and I need you to not tell the others about it,” she said finally. “Not until I can be brave enough to tell them.”

He looked at her and nodded. “I won’t, I promise.”

She smiled at him softly. “You read the legends of the Legendary Chalice, right?”

He nodded his head.

She continued, “Well, what those legends didn’t tell ya was a long time ago, the Calix Animi were supposed to serve the Most High and protect mortals from dealing with demons, but the gifts from the Most High became their own gifts when the members of the Calix Animi became prideful. The members say that only people who are chosen by the Most High and worthy will obtain the last two gifts. Then a ding-dong thief managed to mix the last two gifts together and became one of them.”

Canteen tilted his head. “ The two gifts mixed together? Wait! Are you talking about the Eternal’s Orb?”

She smiled. “Yep. That’s how the Eternal’s Orb was born. Anyway, the other members didn’t react too kindly when they saw a thief having the Eternal’s Orb inside of him. Of course, that caused a lot of division between them. The Devil sees this and well…took advantage of it. There was a battle and…let’s say that the Legendary Chalice lost everything. She’s the only one who survived the battle.”

He frowned when listening to the story. “She must have felt alone.”

“And a bad omen too.”

He perked his head up.

She sighed sadly. “She decided to do something that she regretted and caused her to reincarnate so many times. She threw her spear down into that pool, gather the powers of her dead friends, and hid them away in this place…except for one.”

“The Eternal’s Orb?”

“Yeah, she placed it over at the other mausoleum at someplace different that eventually became Sugarland,” Chalice replied. “Don’t ask me why…I still didn’t get why I decided to place Eternal’s Orb to this day. Probably scared that the demons might find it…? Not sure.”

He frowned. “And now you’re here.”

“Yep…”

He held her hand, catching her attention. “I won’t say anything to anyone. I promise.”

“I know. I trust you, Hughes,” she said with a soft smile while she grabbed his face and kissed his lips. He widened his eyes before melting into the kiss. He grabbed her face to keep the kiss going until they broke away to look into each other’s eyes. Their eyes suddenly broadened cartoonishly as Canteen let go of her face.

“Whoa,” he uttered.

She felt sudden chills coming down her spine. “Wow…heh, I’ve never felt this before.”

“Me neither…” he said while blushing madly.

She got excited and kissed his lips again, almost knocking him down. He gasped in shock once her lips crashed into his again, but his shock melted away as he caressed her face.

They both broke away, causing Chalice to bounce away like a little kid.

“Whoa, wow! Wow,” she responded, trying to keep herself together.

He giggled giddily. “Yeah…” He realized that they were still in the hallway. “Uh, should we get out of here? Maybe later we can…you know, find someplace to hang out and…”

“Date?” she finished with a smile.

“Yeah.”

She came up to him and helped him up on his feet with a lovesick grin. “I would love that.”

They both turned to look and found a door to the side. They went to the door and opened it to find that there was a way out from under the ground. As they went up the stairs, they were holding hands and walking as close to each other as they could.

~.~

The night was young.

Cuphead had been standing outside of the theater with his red suit after the brothers were told by Cassidy through the phone that they were getting ready at Sally’s theater.

The cup became impatient, which was noticed by his brother.

“She’ll come out. Don’t worry,” Mugman reassured his brother.

Cuphead looked away ashamed. “I know. I’m just…well…you know how it feels, huh?”

“Anxious, impatient, nervous, and excited all mix together?”

“Yeah.”

Mugman smiled softly. “Welcome to dating.”

They heard heels clicked and turned their heads to notice their girlfriends coming out.

Cassidy let Natalie walk towards Cuphead.

Cuphead’s pupils dilated when he saw her wearing her dark pink dress with a skirt that appeared to be fluffy and with feathers dragging on the floor. She had only light make-up with light pink eyeshadows and light blushes on her cheeks. She had her brown liquid hair up in a bun, pinned by the dark pink feathers. She had long light pink gloves on that went up to her elbows and heels.

She seemed nervous. “Heh, I don’t know if I picked the right dress for the date—”

“Pretty,” Cuphead blurted out.

She stopped her sentence and blushed. Then she gave a smile. “You think so?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah.” Then he noticed Natalie wearing the pink pearl necklace that Cuphead gave to her when Mugman was first dating Cassidy. “Hey, you’re wearing the necklace I gave ya a long time ago.”

“Yeah…you don’t mind, right?”

He shook his head. “I bought it for you. I don’t mind at all whether you wear it or not.”

She grinned at him. “Ready?”

He nodded and held his arm out. “Ready.”

She wrapped her arm around his and stayed close to him.

Mugman watched them with a proud smirk at his brother. He felt someone lean against him and looked to see Cassidy rubbing her head against his with purrs. He wrapped his arm around her waist while her tail embraced around his waist.

“Are we going to spy on them like they did to us?” she whispered against the side of his head.

He giggled. “Maybe. Maybe not. I ain’t too worried about them.”

She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. “You know, since everything is getting calmer, do you think we can try another date?”

He looked at her. “Like going out to eat kind of date?”

She nodded her head with a ‘Mhm’.

He gave a small chuckle. “I would love that.”

Chalice and Canteen approached them with bruises and scratches, which were noticed by Mugman and Cassidy.

“By golly, what happened to you both?” Mugman questioned Chalice and Canteen.

Both Chalice and Canteen exchanged glances at each other and snickered a bit.

“Well, let’s just say that we went on a perilous journey,” she said with a shrug.

Mugman looked to see Chalice holding Canteen’s hand. “Oh. Well, congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Canteen answered bashfully.

Chalice looked to see Cuphead and Natalie going to Fly Trap and sitting at the dock of the ferry ship. “Did I miss anything with Cuphead and Natalie?”

“Other than them getting ready for a date, not that much,” Mugman answered.

They watched as the cups were going on date. By the end of the date, Cuphead and Natalie danced with each other to the music played by Ribby and Croaks.

As Mugman watched on, he felt something strange in his body. His vision became a blur for a moment. He almost stumbled, but he felt Cassidy holding him up. He glanced at her to notice her concern look with a clearer vision.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said.

His friends and his girlfriend didn’t believe him, but they didn’t push further.

As they watched, Mugman couldn’t help but felt like something was calling him. It was calling his name. He tried to ignore it, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore. A vision of a pool came and went for a second. He became light-headed from trying to ignore this weird vision. He felt like he was going to throw up, but he couldn’t. His legs were shaking and he was breathing shallow breaths. He could barely hear Cassidy’s concern tone, but it was muffled. He could assume that she was asking if he was okay. He gave a slight nod to her as his vision became a blur. Then the blur became black. He lost his balance and collapsed onto the ground.

He could no longer hear the voices asking him if he was alright. It was just him and the darkness.

To Be Continued...

#cuphead #mugman #ocs x canons #ms chalice #canteen hughes #king dice #porkrind #sally stageplay #cuphead: isle of memories rewrite

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