Tumgik
#my favorite disasters so true
pilindiel · 7 months
Note
too shy to talk to you off anon but i just wanted to say that your bi fai icon brings me joy every time i see it ❤️
AWWW no need to be shy, anon! i swear I'm nice most of the time.
But seriously, you can thank @commodorecliche for the lovely icon! It sort of matches her chaotic bi Jean icon :)
2 notes · View notes
bootlegspiders · 4 days
Text
Hey, so for Watcher fans who may not wanna pay for another subscription or just wanna watch something new here are some other youtubers you should take a look at if you want to get a spook or learn some history
(* = potentially triggering topics covered usually associated with crimes, so be careful)
Ghost Hunting and general spooky vibes:
AmysCrypt - Your typical ghost hunting show with two Australians traveling the world, though I will say they do go to places I've never heard of before and they do very good research. And there are some goofs along with the spooks.
The Ouija Brothers - Two British dudes finding ghosts in England. The vibes are generally pretty chill and it's a good time
The Paranormal Scholar - A mixed bag of all paranormal happenings from ghosts to demons to cryptids and aliens. Sort of an overview to deepdives on various paranormal occurrences. The research is immaculate and their voice is very soothing in my opinion.
Paranormal Quest - Ghost hunting in the US, sometimes goofy sometimes serious, but they do go to some interesting places and some familiar ones too
Weird History:
ObsoleteOddity* - This guy is great, like 80% of the things he covers I've never heard of before. Very atmospheric, fun little visuals, and a large variety of weird events and people for topics.
Georgia Marie* - A little bit of everything, but she focuses on strange things that have happened, lgbt history, true crime, and historical disasters. She covers enough of everything that I'm sure you'll find something
Stefanie Valentine* - I'm not sure if she even posts anymore, but I thought what she was doing was great. Think Vampira or Elvira but for older true crime and ghost stories, I think the latest covered would have been like early 1900s. Idk I just thought it was like a cute spooky lil storytime
Caitlin Doughty or Ask A Mortician* - Pretty sure y'all would know who she is but just in case, she's a mortician who covers topics relating to death! From odd ways people have died, or odd things that have happened to people after they've died. And just odd or tragic things that have happened through history. It's silly, but done with levity and care and respect the topics deserve.
General History:
Part-Time Explorer - Mostly history on ships and ghost towns with the occasional train. Lots of research and interviews, very well done and worth checking out even if it may not be your thing.
History's Forgotten People - Talks about sometimes obscure, or sometimes not, historical individuals. Even if you've heard of the person in the topic, they'll talk on something obscure about that person.
History Tea Time with Lindsay Holiday - A heavy focus on royalty around the world, a generally upbeat dive into historic individuals.
(Or you could always go watch time team, that's an option and it's my guilty pleasure love me some archeology)
True Crime:
There are so many out there, so I'll just recommend two of my favorites
Gabulosis* - She focuses on vintage cases 20 years or older (literally in her opener) and is well researched and respectful. Another one that talks on cases I've never heard of that deserve to be heard.
Mysterious WV* - True crime and missing persons based in the West Virginia area and neighboring states. Idk how to even explain the vibes. This guy is just great please watch him trust me you won't be disappointed.
That's all for now, feel free to add your own recs out there!
1K notes · View notes
bogleech · 8 months
Text
TOP TEN DINOSAURUSES
maybe you're wondering my most tenned favorite dinosauruses??? The science study of dinasacacers is called "dinosaurusology" by leading experts like myself, and it is constantly changing as we make new uncoveries almost every tuesday when we find new bones in my cousin rob's garage (he hasn't thrown anything out since the 90's!) As such bear in mind that up to two facts I am about to share could become dated over the course of the next century, however as both the king and queen of science this will only be true if I'm still available to approve the new facts. If I'm dead or kind of tired then nobody will ever know what's true anymore so you should be nice to me. #10: OVIRAPTOR
Tumblr media
OVIRAPTOR was a good model for what all dinosacans were like: it was a wrinkly lizard that slithered in filthy dirt and had difficulty standing upright because its bones were made of rocks. This is why we have the term "the stone age," so be grateful you're living in "the bone age!" Oviraptor's name means "eggs velociraptor" because it was a kind of velociraptor that stole eggs. It didn't know what to do with them because nobody invented cooking yet and raw dinosaur eggs were disgusting, so every oviraptor starved to death.
#9: IGUANADON
Tumblr media
This was the last known photograph of IGUANA DON (not to be confused with his cousin iguana dan) when george washington invented photographs 2 million years ago. Don was an ugly disgusting hilarious lizard monster with one horn on its nose and he died because he evolved a dining room in his torso exactly the right size for 21 cavemen to walk in and eat his kidneys. This was not helped by don's instinct to sleep on a big porch under a chandelier.
#9 DIMETRODON
Tumblr media
DIMETRODON was the most common dinosaur of jurassic, which was the fifth and final era of dinosaurs after the ice age but before the ediacaran. In fact dimetrodon was the very last dinosaur to ever exist on earth before they were all eaten to death by the ediacaran's dominant predator: a species of swirly looking weird rock. Nobody knows why these swirly looking weird rocks died out, but it's most likely because dimetrodon was so poisonous from its diet of entirely pufferfish. You can tell it was a sea dinosaur because of its fish fin! #8: PTERADACTYL
Tumblr media
PTERODACTYL was a regular dinosaur until it got married to a species of bat and its bat wife laid a bunch of pterodactyl eggs! This woodcut is however inaccurate: flying would not be invented until president obama discovered the first airplane in 1998, so pterodactyl couldn't possibly have stayed in the air and just immediately fell. The long 900 million year reign of the pterodactyl abruptly ended when the last one finally hit the ground (it took longer in those days because the oxygen disaster made so much more air) #7 SNORKASAURUS
Tumblr media
SNORKASAURUS was completely unique among all dinocaurs by having a really long neck. It was one of the largest creatures to ever roam the earth at over 7 feet tall, or exactly 12 meters to those of you living in Liberia or Myanmar! This is the last known photograph of snorkasaurus, giving birth to the first cavemen. Snorkasaurus went extinct because all of them did this instead of making baby snorkasauruses. This is because like all dinosaurii they had only a tiny peanut for a brain, and nobody was around to give them 'the talk' because that wasn't invented yet.
#6 SMILODON
Tumblr media
SMILODON was a very special dinosaurn because it was the first one to stand up on its hind legs after years of rigorous exercise and weight training. By inventing this new way of walking, Smilodon made it possible for the first monkeys to evolve! This is called "convergent" evolution.
#5 BULBASAUR
Tumblr media
BULBASAUR was a majestic and beautiful species of neopet unfortunately disliked by the scientific community because it is the reason there are no flying dinosuars. Bulbasaur was the first ever flying dyanasar ever invented, 19 billion years ago on September 10, 2001, but the project was discontinued when its first test flight ended in a tragic accident. That's right: on September 11, 2001, Bulbasaur crashed into the stock market, causing the great depression that lead to the civil war :'( now to this very day, flying dinosarers are against the law.
#4 YOSHI
Tumblr media
YOSHI is a type of dinersaulophus called a "bird," which was actually the second attempt by early neanderthal alchemists to manufacture a street legal flying dinnersauran, but the New Zealand government realized if dinophlofbuses can fly, then bats would no longer be special, and since bats are New Zealand's only major export it would have been an economic disaster. The queen of Australia (New Zealand's largest city) ordered the CIA to sand all of the wings off of these early prototype birds. Every bird tragically went extinct when it looked down, noticed how high up it was and remembered it could not fly, activating the effects of Earth's gravitational field.
#3 ANOMALOCARIS
Tumblr media
ANOMALOCARIS was the dinosorcerous that discovered the first primitive cave painting of a modern day crab and invented carcinisation. All the other dinanders laughed at Anomalocaris for wanting to turn into a crab, but guess what??? Every single kind of dinosaur is dead but there's a crab still alive at 29, making it the oldest person in the world. Who's FUCKING laughing now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#2 EARL SINCLAIR
Tumblr media
This is the last known photograph of Earl Sinclair, seen here as an uncredited extra in "Avatar 3: Lost in New York." Earl Sinclair was a sindonaur species that could disguise itself as a human by putting on sunglasses, a necessary adaptation in order to hide from the largest predator dancasore to ever live: Mellisuga helenae. However, near the end of the coal age, M. Helenae finally remembered that sunglasses hadn't even been invented yet. Look carefully, and you'll notice nobody is wearing sunglasses at all in this scene, making Earl Sinclair stick out like a sore thumb! If you're still having difficulty, here's a zoomed in image of this majestic thunder lizard:
Tumblr media
Unfortunately......this wardrobe malfunction made Mr. Sinclair just as obvious to his ancient enemy, and the last Earl Sinclair's brains were sucked out on September 11, 2001, the darkest day in British history because he was the only one who knew the recipe to chicken mcnuggets (the only british food.) To this day all british people are extinct but you can still see their fossilized skeletons waiting in line at the department of motor vehicles.
#1 CONCAVENATOR
Tumblr media
Concavenator was an Early Cretaceous carcharodontosaurid up to six meters in length with an unusual pointed crest on its back.
2K notes · View notes
Text
wake me from this eternal slumber, rumor has it, a kiss is all it takes; i'm no fairytale but your lips might make me one.
Tumblr media
jh86 x reader: you've sworn off frat boys, but maybe just one more?
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (m on f) yay! we love exceptions, fingering, hair pulling and lips and limbs and all my usual stuff (you guys know what i'm about). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: well, favorites, my ex was in pike in undergrad, so you can thank him for 18k worth of a fantasy-level frat romance (i know, it's too much, i need to cut it down, but i can't. this is how i'm dealing with my breakup. leave me be). and, actually, don't thank him. thank me, because i worked really, really hard on this <3. there are a billion things that i ask you to take for granted, like how i included too many side characters, so i know it will be confusing, but i needed sleazy nh13 in there, okay? and i needed starboy pitcher lh43, and cc22 falling for his postgame reporter, and tz11 not being able to catch, and qh43 being a pawn in a president x president love story featuring alex turcotte. all of it was necessary for my healing process. i wanted to write something in which someone can drop into your life and rewrite all of the things you believe to be true. some star-crossed shit. so, this is my best shot. what is love, after all, but leaving your window open for fratboy jh86 to climb into? i was never actually in greek life, so all of this is based on what my friends have told me (sam is based on my irl best friend, fun fact). forgive me for any plot holes and inconsistencies. please, please, tell me what you think, because i love when you do, and tell me what you want next. thank you for your support. thank you for indulging my silly whims and most delusional daydreams. tell your snakes i love them. getting pretty busy up here in the real world, but until next time. go canucks. all my love).
this day, the first day of classes, had been a real disaster, honestly. what had been the worse part, even? it was hard to decide, with so many natural contenders.
would it be the alarm clock of your roommate, which had gone off for twenty minutes, until you had to get up yourself and shake her awake? or maybe the pop quiz in your lecture, on the very first day, when you forgot to do the reading? but, no, we can't forget the back to back to back texts from that guy, the one who mistook your general friendliness as romantic interest.
it had been a terrible day, genuinely, but this might be the worst of it, you thought, as you stood outside the tke house, on the sidewalk, waiting for your friends. your friends, who said they would be out ten minutes ago.
it was getting kind of brisk outside, and your outfit, compliant with the finance bros and business hoes theme, wasn't keeping you very warm. you looked down at your phone, tried to will a text from one of them into existence. you just wanted to go home, which, honestly, you probably should have already done by now. your sorority house was maybe a five minute walk down the row, but you didn't want to abandon your friends, and you didn't really want to make the walk alone, in the dark.
you could go back inside, you knew. but, this day had sucked, and you weren't in the mood to dance on an elevated surface tonight.
you opened the text conversation with your roommate, typed almost out? and hit send, before a deep voice pulled your head up.
"miss, is that an open container?" you looked up to find a stout officer of campus security shining his flashlight on you and your red plastic cup.
of course, because today was terrible, today would be the day that security cracks down on their no-open-containers-on-the-row rule. of course.
you looked into your solo cup, swirled around the pink liquid. what could you even say this was? the officer could probably smell the vodka in it from where he stood, a few feet away. honestly, it was probably better to just come clean. you'd get, what, a citation? hopefully a warning, if you could conjure up some tears?
you sighed, opened your mouth to spew some sob story, but you were cut off by some goofy voice coming from the door.
"there you are, baby!"
both you and the officer turned to face the voice, now an approaching figure.
your eyes narrowed as you tried to make out a face from the dim street light. you certainly were not anyone's baby. and you were fairly certain the only people who could have been wondering where you were would be the friends you came with, who had much more feminine voices.
before you could tell this guy he had the wrong idea, though, he slung a heavy arm around your shoulders, used it to pull you close to him before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, gentle, doting, fleeting.
you were about to shove this guy off of you, as he had obviously mistaken you for someone else.
"thanks for holding my drink for me," he said, then, taking your cup from your hand and downing it in one go.
you swallowed, your mind buzzing, not just with confusion but with the weight of his body against yours, the ghost of heat from his lips on your temple, the slightly muddled sandalwood scent of him so close. was he covering for you, this stranger? this stranger, who definitely could see your face, now, so there was no one he could be mistaking you for.
was he just being nice?
"'course, baby," you mustered, letting yourself lean into his embrace, hooking an arm around his waist. if he was going to get this officer off of your back, you'd let him.
your savior turned to face the shorter man in front of you both, as if noticing him for the first time. "oh, good evening, officer," he said, ever the gentleman. "can i help you?"
as the officer explained his presence with a gruff tone, you turned your neck to look at the face of the man who currently had his arm around you, whose lips on your forehead you could still feel like a purpling bruise.
you looked up at him, and your stomach flipped, because he was just so pretty. so much so that it flooded your gaze, made him hard to take in all at once. that fairytale profile, cut jaw, sharp cheekbones, soft slope of a nose. long, dark lashes that framed light blue eyes. grown out hair that curled around the brim of his backwards baseball cap, which read the letters tke in bold font. full, pink lips you had the sudden urge to tug on with your teeth.
uh oh, the gossip in your head whispered to her friends. we've seen this before. we know how this ends.
you could have shushed her.
"as you can see, officer, there's no liquid here, at least not anymore," the tke boy above you said with the voice of an experienced sweet-talker, smooth and sugary. "we wish we could be of more help, don't we, baby?"
he turned his gaze down to you, meeting your eyes directly for the first time. oceanic amusement met your careful skepticism, so electric and charged you swore the streetlight above you began to flicker.
"sure do," you said, reluctantly fixing your gaze on the officer and away from the mesmerizing face next to you.
the short man looked unconvinced, but switched his flashlight off anyways.
"have a good night, sir," you added, to which he muttered something and walked in the other direction.
you waited until he was out of earshot before lifting that warm arm from around your shoulders, crossing your own arms over your chest. "right," you began, "so, do i know you, or something?"
he tilted his head, let a bemused smile slant across his face, completely lopsided, completely endearing. "or something," he said, his eyes glinting, brimming over with mirth.
you furrowed your brow, shifted on your feet. "why did you come out here, then?" you asked. "and what was that whole act for?"
he sucked on his teeth for a moment, during which you took in his whole frame, his wide shoulders, tall build, strong stance.
uh oh is right, you thought to yourself, clasping your hands behind your back.
he shrugged, the movement making the muscles in his shoulders tense. you looked at your feet. "saw you come out here by yourself," he said, simply. "just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong."
you narrowed your eyes, which made his gaze shimmer again.
"then i saw you with the security guy, and he's been camping out recently for their open container policy, so i figured i'd-"
"you figured you'd pretend that we're together?" you raised a brow. "awful dramatic, don't you think? could have just smacked the cup from my hand." you cringed internally as soon as you said this. you'd felt his hand on your side, and there was no chance that soft touch was capable of anything so harsh.
he just took a step closer to you, though, and part of you wanted to back away, but you didn't. you couldn't. "maybe i had selfish motives," he added, "maybe i wanted him to think i could pull a pretty girl like you, hm?"
you gave a slight scoff, the smallest shake of your head, before looking up at him again, finding him closer, looking at you like you were something special. something he wouldn't find again.
"okay, you can turn off the charm, now," you warned, more for your own sake than his. "what's your name?"
he stuck out his hand to shake yours, which felt wholly odd, given you could still feel his lips on your skin, like a brand, a scar. "i'm jack," he said, and you took his hand, gave it a shake as you offered him your own name in return.
"and you're in tke?" you asked, half-hoping he would laugh, nod you off, say that fraternities were stupid. hoping he wouldn't be a frat brother, so that he might still be on the table. so that you wouldn't have to walk away from him knowing exactly how he would hurt you if you gave him too much of a chance, too much of yourself.
he nodded though, and you could have sighed in disappointment. he was so, so pretty, but pretty wasn't good enough for your no frat boys rule. not after last time. "are you in a sorority?"
"no," you said immediately, shaking your head. this was a lie, you were in alpha phi, but you were hoping he'd lose interest as soon as you denied it, as so many greek-life boys did.
the light didn't blink out from jack's eyes though. "you must have a walk ahead of you then, if you're not on the row," he said. "i'll walk with you, it's dark."
you peered up at him, dubious. what was his angle, here? what would he have over you if you said yes?
luckily, you didn't have to answer, because you heard your roommate's voice from the door, now walking towards you. "'m so sorry, didn't see your text," she said, walking right past jack and pulling you in for a hug. "of course we can go. let's go back to the house, yeah?"
you nodded, returned her hug.
"the house?" jack's voice asked, to which your roommate pulled away from you, looked at him.
"yeah, a-phi," she said, skeptical. "um, who is this?" she elbowed you.
"this is jack," you explained, "he saved me from a safety citation. jack, this is my roommate, sam."
he nodded to her, which she returned. if jack had put together that you had just lied to his face about being in greek life, he didn't call you out on it, only smiling that goofy grin at you again, the one that awoke butterflies in your stomach, the one that had the street light rolling its eyes at you.
"well, jack, we're off," sam said, linking her arm in yours.
"goodnight, ladies," he said as the two of you set off down the sidewalk. "until you next need saving, baby."
you shook in a disbelieving laugh.
"baby?" sam whisper-screamed at you.
"i'll explain later," you told her.
you did explain later, that night, when the two of you were taking off your makeup in your mirroring vanities.
"i'm sorry, what?" sam said when you had finished recalling the night. "he quite literally kissed you?"
you flushed, waved her off. "barely," you said, "on the head."
"okay, sure," she mused, patting toner into her face. "sure, as if this isn't the longest you've talked about a guy since last year!"
you sighed. "it doesn't matter," you said, trying to make yourself believe it. "he's in tke. and i've sworn off frat guys, you know this."
"oh, i know this," she replied, "but rules are made to be broken."
"that's not right," you sing-songed.
"don't talk back to your president," she sung right back at you, using her position in the sorority as a trump-card, as she was so prone to doing.
"he's probably just like the rest of them," you reminded her, and yourself, "he's charming and sweet and lovely until he gets what he wants, and then he's gone."
the words hurt as you spoke them, jagged and sharp in your throat, like shards of glass. it hurt to think about your history with frat guys, the ones you'd let get close to you.
the guy from pike whom you had been seeing, sort of, for half a year, who had relished in the chase of it all, been so caring until you finally slept with him. and then he acted like you were nothing, not even worth a text. he had acted like you were crazy, delusional, for thinking your relationship went any deeper than sex.
he had all but laughed at you when you had suggested anything different. "i don't, like, do labels," he had told you. "you know that, right?"
you shuddered, now, thinking about how stupid, how utterly childish he had made you feel. thinking about how you had given the next guy, the one from lambda, a chance, about how he had done the same thing, with slightly different words, on a slightly different timeline.
you refused to feel that way again.
sam just shrugged. "i don't know, love," she said, "the way he was looking at you, back there, i swear, it was special."
you scrunched up your nose. "i'm not changing my mind. it's not worth it. he's not worth it."
something in the back of your mind twisted, though, because there was a trace of disbelief in your tone.
"whatever you say," sam said.
"now, tell me about your progress on project peace treaty," you said, hoping to change the subject, referring to sam's crush on the tke president.
one of your other friends had come up with the moniker after sam had been voted president herself, like a relationship between the two leaders would be some kind of deal between nations.
sam pretended to faint in her chair. "i don't know how much more obvious i can be," she whined. "i swear, i can't tell if he's just quiet or if he wants me to get the fuck away from him."
you rolled your eyes. "there's no way he's not into you," you said, and you meant it - sam was your best friend, and the best person you knew. if there was a way not to like her, you were unfamiliar with it.
she just shook her head. "you haven't talked to alex," she said, solemn. "he's, like, impossible to read." she shot you a look. "not all of us can have a tke brother wrapped around our finger after meeting once."
you threw a pillow at her, laughed her off, tried not to dream that night about starry blue eyes and soft lips on your temple.
the week passed, slowly, defined by welcome back mixers and new classes, new faces.
before you knew it, it was friday. you were exhausted, but you only had two classes today, the first of which passed quickly, the second of which was ballroom dance 101.
you had already had your first ballroom class on wednesday, so you knew it was fairly laid back, a good way to get some unit credits, a place to move around a bit before the weekend. you were, however, taking it alone. sam had been planning on taking it with you, but then an opening for a class she really needed had come up, and you had insisted you'd be fine on your own, that obviously her major credits were more important than this random elective dance class.
and it was fine, truly, if not a little less fun without her there. you waited patiently for the instructor to arrive, watching the little circles of friends stretch and chat. you leaned your back against the wall, crossed your arms over your chest, let your mind slow until you felt a presence next to you.
you glanced to your left, felt your heart stutter as you did a double take. "jack?" you asked, almost incredulous. if he looked pretty in the night, he looked downright distracting in the daylight, today in khakis and a polo shirt.
"hey, baby," he said, maybe a trace of smugness in his voice as he mirrored your lean, your posture. "how're you?"
this felt like a trap. he felt like a trap. your eyes narrowed. "you're in ballroom? since when?"
"since i switched into it, yesterday," he answered, simply and plainly, before his mouth quirked up. "is that what the experts are callin' it? just 'ballroom?'" he gave a facetious nod. "i like it. drop the 'dance,' 's too bulky."
you rolled your eyes, but laughed nonetheless. "we went over this kind of expert vocabulary on day one," you said with a shrug, "sorry you missed it."
the instructor clapped her hands, signaling her arrival, before beginning a stretching sequence on the floor.
"you're gonna dance in khakis?" you whispered to jack, who had taken the spot next to you as you both leaned forward to touch your toes.
"was i supposed to bring my tux?" he asked, which made you choke down a laugh. "or are we doing some kind of breakdancing i'm unaware of?"
"what, you don't have your handstand mastered?" you teased, "if you insist, but that's the foundation we're building from, just warning you."
"students, focus!" the instructor demanded, shooting you a glare, which you acknowledged with a nod before sharing a guilty smile with jack, like kids caught laughing too hard on the field trip bus.
after class, the both of you were planning on walking back to the row, so you just walked together, chatted pleasantly. the street was pretty in the daylight in a way it wasn't at night. there was something to be said, you thought, about being able to see everything clearly, about knowing exactly what you were looking at. and sure, there was beauty in mystery, and there was beauty in danger, but there was beauty in comfort, too.
"so, do you think i could get your number?" jack said, as you both turned the corner, the tke house now in clear view. his smile was easy. "for all the questions 'm gonna have about the tango?"
you let out a little laugh, thought for a moment. it was just your number, after all, and he said it was for class. it probably didn't mean anything. it was probably safe. "okay," you said, taking out your phone, handing it to him, "sure." your mouth quirked up as he put in his information, sent himself a text. "don't know how much help 'm gonna be, though."
he handed your phone back to you, that halfway grin on his pretty face. "you're right," he said, making his way towards his front door. "if anything, you'll just distract me from the steps, lookin' like that and all."
you looked down, shook your head, felt the gentle heat of a blush on your face. "focus up, then," you chided, gripping the straps of your backpack.
"oh, i'm focused, baby," he called out, "just not on dance."
you rolled your eyes at him as he smiled at your reaction, both of you saying your goodbyes. you heard his front door shut only when you had completely turned away, began to walk the few houses down the street.
when you got back to your room, you flopped down on your bed, breathing into your soft comforter, until you heard the door swing open again. you looked up.
"all good?" sam asked, raising a brow. she threw her bag and keys on the floor by her desk, slipped off her shoes, hopped up onto her bed, opposite yours.
"yeah," you said, sighed, then laughed, short and breathy. "remember that guy from last weekend?"
her eyes went wide, now alert. her posture straightened. "uh, your valiant hero in the face of danger? of course."
you laughed, then, more naturally this time, hugged a pillow to your chest. "he's in my dance class." you looked down at your hand, examined your fingernails. "and i gave him my number."
sam squinted at you. "okay," she said, slowly. "i know what i think about this, i think you know what i think about this." she tugged her hair elastic down, freeing her hair from the ponytail it had been in. "what do you think about this?"
you sucked on your teeth, thought for a moment. "i don't know," you said. "i guess i'm just confused. and worried. and i don't think i want him to text me first, but i also kind of want-"
a buzz from your phone interrupted you, and sam tilted her head back and groaned. "that's him, isn't it?" she asked. "that's definitely him."
and it shouldn't have been, you thought, there was no way it was him, because it had been what, ten minutes? you knew frat guys, and you knew it couldn't be him.
it was.
forgot to ask if you were coming tonight, he had texted, followed by told you you're distracting lol.
"i knew it," sam said, shaking her head, "i'm like an oracle. it's a gift, i know, but it's also a burden." she gestured for you to speak. "what's he say?"
"asked if i'm coming tonight," you said, looking up at her, "in all lowercase. and he said lol."
she waved you off. "non-issue," she declared.
"but, like," you pushed, giving her a look, "who taught him to use all lowercase?"
"doesn't matter," sam continued, "he called you baby and kissed you on the forehead. he gets a lowercase pass."
"so you're the oracle and the lawmaker?" you asked, teasing.
sam nodded seriously. "and the president," she finished.
you laughed, then sighed, began typing.
"what're you saying?" sam asked, leaning forward on her bed, as if she would be able to read your screen.
"just that 'm not going," you said. not tonight sry, you sent, followed by you might want to get that distraction thing checked out.
sam nodded. "what was their theme tonight? something bad, right?"
"country bros and rodeo hoes," you answered with a grimace.
"who the hell is in their little think tank?" sam asked, shaking her head, "'m gonna tell alex if they do the bros/hoes thing again a phi isn't coming."
you were nodding in agreement when your phone buzzed again. then you'll be up at a reasonable time tomorrow? he had asked, followed by any chance you wanna come watch my friends' baseball fall game?, followed by maybe more exposure will help w my distraction problem :).
you bit your lip, looked up at sam. "what?" she asked.
"have plans tomorrow morning?" you said as you typed. thanks for the invite, you sent, followed by can i bring sam? and can you bring alex?
"of course not," sam said, "it's saturday morning."
as long as you'll be there, you can bring anyone you want, he texted back, followed by alex is in!
see you there :) you said in a final response.
the field @ 9, he sent, followed by thank you!
your brow furrowed at this, because what was he thanking you for? what had you promised him, in this interaction, besides just seeing him? surely that wasn't enough to warrant a thank you?
you cleared your throat, tossed your phone aside. "well, you do now," you said to sam. "we're going to baseball tomorrow morning."
sam groaned. "those guys suck."
"alex is coming," you tried.
"i love baseball!" sam said, straightening again. "and soph is covering it for the paper, so we can support her, too."
you laughed. "so easily convinced, eh?"
"you don't wanna talk to me about being easily persuaded," she sing-songed. visions of easy grins and high cheekbones flashed across your mind, and you knew she was right, so you let it rest.
the next morning, as the two of you walked to the baseball field, sam was reminding you about the plight of being the president.
"we've warned her a million times about what she's posting," she told you, out of breath, referring to one of the freshman who didn't seem to understand your house's social media rules. "i don't know how many times i can remind her politely before i just start smacking cans out of her hand when someone takes their phone out."
you laughed as you rounded the corner by the field entrance. "i say resort to violence," you said, "i hear it's always the answer."
sam groaned while you smiled. "look, there they are," you whispered, spotting him and jack over by the stands. suddenly all evidence of sam's unhappiness was mysteriously gone. her face was the image of alert interest. you imagined you probably looked a little more nervous as you approached where they were standing.
"gentlemen," sam greeted the pair of them as you approached. "good to see you." she shot a wink alex's way. he appeared completely unaffected. "'specially you, handsome."
you and jack shared a gentle smile at sam's boldness, and it felt like a secret language, the kind you make up with your friend during a playdate, the kind everyone understands but that feels extra special, anyways.
"hi, sam," alex said, plainly, but you caught the faintest of a pleased look in his eyes before he nodded to you in greeting.
"thanks for coming," jack said, although when he said it he was speaking directly to you. there was a fluttery feeling in your stomach that you scolded into submission. then he offered you his arm, and you decided that the butterflies were probably here to stay, at least for now. "shall we?"
you exhaled, had the feeling that touching his extended arm would be like touching a loaded gun, dangerous and daunting, but you took it anyways, found him warm and comfortable against your side as you fell into step together. "i'm, uh," you started, testing your limits, "i'm happy you texted."
jack shook his hair from his face. his returning smile was nothing short of stunning. "yeah?" he asked, which had your mouth feeling a bit dry. "made you happy?" this fact seemed to make him especially pleased, proud.
"what, no arm for me, al?" came sam's abrupt voice from behind you. alex appeared horrified by this nickname. "that's fine, i have enough arms, anyways. three would be overdoing it, i think."
you coughed, turned your gaze back to jack. you felt the force of his attention like a suckerpunch to the stomach. "yeah, i, um," you tried, "thanks, i guess. for inviting us."
his soft features lit up with amusement at your uncertainty, obvious discomfort. he appeared just on the verge of laughter, but it didn't really feel like he was laughing at you, somehow. you knew what being on the bad end of joke was like, and this didn't feel like that. maybe you were just distracted by how his mouth curved around his almost-laugh, slow and delighted. "of course, baby," he said, and you sort of wished he would stop calling you that. for your mental well-being, he really needed to stop calling you that. he tugged you slightly closer to him as you made your way towards some empty seats in the stands. "can i have the seat next to you?"
and you let out a little laugh, then, as you sat down, made a motion as if to wipe off the seat to your left. "all yours," you said.
he hummed, something sparking in his eyes as he sat down, which had you rethinking your words, the gravity of them. you couldn't bring yourself to regret them, though, if you were honest. how could you regret them, when they made him look at you like this? like there was some worldly truth in the blush on your cheeks?
the cracking sound of a bat pulled you from your daze. "so, who do you know on the team?" you asked, eager to push the conversation towards something safer, something that didn't have your neck feeling hot, didn't make the arm rest between the two of you feel like something cruel.
he turned his head towards the field slowly, reluctantly. "11, 22," he said, pointing to where they stood, one tall, the other shorter, broader. "trevor and cole." he smiled. "they aren't very good."
you huffed a laugh. "they're on a d1 team," you chided, "so they must not be terrible."
"we still have no idea how they made the team," jack replied, shaking his head. "you'll see, swear trev can't catch a ball."
"and they only took on cole 'cause he's good with media," alex added from the seat on the other side of jack. "he's their backup backup catcher."
sam snapped her fingers. "cole, like cole caufield?" she asked, her eyes widening when alex nodded. sam looked at you. "he's the one soph's been talkin' about. the one she interviews all the time for the paper."
you laughed in recognition. your friend sophie covered almost every baseball game, and apparently a certain backup backup catcher had been giving her a lot of grief whenever she tried to get a useable quote.
"oh, and 43," jack said, pointing to the lanky kid on the pitcher's mound. his smile turned bashful. "'s luke, my younger brother."
your stomach flipped at how his gaze had softened. "didn't know you had siblings," you said, although you didn't know much about him, so you guessed that made sense.
he just nodded. "older brother, too, you might know him, actually."
"'s in tke with you?" you asked, to which jack made some affirmative sound.
"yeah," he said, "quinn, 's close with nico."
you hummed in recognition, picturing their faces, noticing the similarities. "right," you said, "you guys do look similar."
his smile turned indulgent as he tilted his head. "'m better looking though, right, baby?" he asked, and his voice dripped with confidence, but you felt a strange compulsion to reassure him, anyways, could somehow sense that this was important.
so you just ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, gauging what to say, here, how much you could reveal. "i think you're pretty, jack," you said, and it was soft, low, for him. your eyes caught on his for a blazing second. "you know i do." and it was true, you knew he was aware of the way he affected you.
his gaze grew hooded for a moment, which terrified you, a horror-movie jump scare, a reminder of the reason you made your no-frat-boy rule in the first place.
luckily, as always, sam had something to say. she scoffed. "don't know about that," she said, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs over the seat in front of her. "quinn's a straight ten." she gave a satisfied smile, looked to her right. "say, al, d'you think you could set me up with him? you guys are close, right?"
alex didn't answer right away. he shifted slightly in his seat.
"c'mon, from one president to another, think you could help me out?" sam gave a dreamy sort of sigh. "he's got a real face on him, and ever since he's grown out his hair-"
"'m not setting you up with him," was alex's short reply, cutting sam off, not quite looking at her.
you knocked jack's knee with your own, mirroring smiles on your faces.
sam just pouted as the game started. "don't have to be such an ass about it," she said, but you could tell by her face that she had accomplished exactly what she had set out to.
you weren't really a baseball fan, but this particular game flew by, probably because of the shaggy-haired, full-lipped person sitting to your left.
the slow pace of the game was cut with conversations about the party tke threw last night (it was lame, jack insisted, and his knowing, shy grin gave you a hint as to the reason why), which led to a conversation about who picks the themes (a board of esteemed individuals, apparently).
"i know it's just nico," sam said, rolling her eyes. "tell him that if he keeps up with the bros and hoes thing a phi isn't coming."
this actually appeared to alarm alex. "you're not serious," he said.
"as death," sam said, nodding.
alex promptly took out his phone and started to text someone. you had the sneaking suspicion it was nico.
jack asked about what you did last night, which led you to talking about your favorite movies.
"you've never seen scream?" you asked, practically confused.
he just shook his head, something glinting in his eyes.
you scoffed. "you have to. it's the best."
"you'll have to show it to me, sometime, then," was his response, which had you blushing, which had you wanting to.
cole never went in, as was expected. he seemed to spend the majority of his time goofing off in the dugout, throwing paper cups at his teammates, then turning away like he had no idea how they'd been hit.
luke threw a great game. he was the kind of player that drew your attention, that you just knew was good, even if you didn't know anything about the sport.
trevor only batted once (he leaned his shoulder into the pitch and took his walk). as an outfielder, he didn't see a ton of action, only getting one real shot at a catch, of course fumbling an easy out, much to the dismay of his teammates.
cole put his head in his hands but welcomed his friend back to the dugout with open arms.
the game ended with a win for the good guys, and you found yourself sticking around, all because jack wanted to wait to congratulate his friends and brother. he extended a hand to you to help you up from your seat, his grip firm and warm against your palm.
your group of four walked down to where the players would exit. you were surprised to find the silence especially comfortable, easy.
at some point, jack slapped his thigh, lightly. "i meant to ask you, baby, what's your coffee order?"
you gave him a confused sort of look. "just hot coffee with oat milk," you answered, almost wary. "why?"
"for next time," he answered, like it was the easiest thing in the world, maybe the most obvious.
you swallowed down how touched you were by this. it felt like ginger, like something you know is good for you but that feels foreign, harsh, anyways. "how do you like your coffee, then?" you asked.
"sweet," he answered, with a smile that made you feel like he knew something you didn't. "really, really sweet."
a chaotic presence shook you both from the haze you'd settled into. "oh, hey, guys." you turned, found your friend sophie there, hands full with a clipboard and her bag and a voice recorder. she pushed her hair from her face. "how's it going?"
"all good, soph," sam answered. "you?"
sophie blew out a breath. "will be good once i get a couple quotes," she said, "just hope they don't give me twenty-two. readers want quotes from impact players, and-"
"sayin' 'm not an impact player, love?" came a goofy approaching voice. you turned again to see cole coming out of the now open exit gate.
sophie groaned. "tell me they're giving me someone else," she pleaded, to which cole grinned wider. "tell me they're giving me someone who played, today."
cole rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles. "might wanna turn on your recorder," he advised, "you're gonna wanna get this."
sophie just rolled her eyes and pulled him to the side, beginning a short interview about the game as you continued to wait.
shortly after, trevor walked out, grinning when he registered the group of you. jack slung an arm around your shoulders as his friend approached, which you noticed. which you would have questioned, maybe, if he didn't pull you into his side in the best of ways, if his touch didn't make you basically delirious. so delirious that you reached a hand up to hold his, dangling from your shoulder.
you could almost hear his satisfied smile as trevor clapped alex on the shoulder in greeting. "packed the stands for us, eh?" he asked, to which alex laughed.
it was the most emotion you'd seen from him. sam appeared very confused, crossed her arms over her chest. "great game," she said.
"yeah," jack continued. "my favorite part was that gorgeous catch in the sixth." he nodded. "seamless."
trevor scoffed, waved jack off. "almost had that one," he insisted. "was this close." he brought two fingers up to show just how close he had been to making that catch.
"you were not," came another voice. you recognized the tall figure as jack's younger brother.
jack clapped his hand in a handshake, congratulated him on the win. you echoed the sentiment, stuck out your hand in greeting, which he shook. "really good game," you said, "i'm-"
"know who you are," luke said, to which you furrowed your brow.
"how?" you asked. luke shared a look with his brother, halfway amused, halfway bored.
jack cleared his throat. "might've mentioned you," he said, but it came out like a mumble, a murmur into your hair.
your heart felt too big for your chest, for a moment. the peanut gallery around you faded away, suddenly it felt like it was just the two of you, standing here. just the two of you, in this universe. "been talkin' about me?" you whispered, and you couldn't help but lean a little more into his side, your grip on his hand growing a little more substantial, a little more confident.
because you'd been someone's secret before, someone's wyd text late at night, someone's nobody, really, someone's a friend. you knew what it felt like to be traded up for, like an old phone, to be the just old enough model that someone looked for someone else, someone newer.
it felt a little spectacular to be someone to write home about, someone to be seen with in broad daylight, someone to be gushed about to a brother. maybe it just felt spectacular to be that kind of someone for jack, in particular.
"a bit," jack breathed into your ear, the softest, probably most uncertain you'd heard him. like he didn't want to scare you away.
you bumped your hip against his. "real chatterbox, hm?" you whispered, adoring the ghost of a flush up his neck, the shy smile he couldn't seem to hide.
"only about stuff that matters," he said, and whatever joke you were going to say died in your mouth, tasted bitter.
luckily, cole and sophie approached, drawing your attention away.
"good to go?" alex asked, to which cole nodded, a smug smile on his face.
sophie huffed. "i don't know why they give me you every damn game," she exclaimed, shoving her recorder and clipboard into her bag. "as if you could give me a useable quote if your life depended on it."
cole scoffed. "i can't help it if your questions are boring as hell," he said. "why don't you ask me something interesting?"
"like what?" sophie asked. "what do you propose i ask you?"
"to dinner next week," cole answered immediately, his smile more of a toothy smirk, and sophie groaned, shook her head.
"i'm out," she said, taking a quick right. she made eye contact with you and sam. "i'll see you back at the house, tonight, girls?"
you both nodded, called out your agreement and goodbye.
when sophie was out of earshot, trevor clapped cole on the shoulder. "don't you get tired of striking out, coley?" he asked.
"you don't seem to, trev," luke observed, to which jack let out a laugh.
"hey, i got a single out of today," trevor argued. no one seemed to view that as the victory that he did.
cole and trevor eventually peeled off to the athlete's dining hall to get lunch, while luke walked back to the row with the group of you, saying something about grabbing a shirt from quinn's room.
when you all made it back, standing in front of the tke house, jack reluctantly retracted his arm from your shoulders. you felt cold without it.
luke headed up to the door.
"luke, tell quinn i say hi, would you?" sam asked, to which he gave some confused confirmation, before disappearing into the house. sam then turned to alex. "a pleasure, as always, al," she said, barely sparing him a second glance.
"yeah, bye?" alex said, almost a question, obviously wary of sam's change in pace.
jack touched your hand, pulled your gaze to his like two magnets, eliciting some kind of shield between you and the rest of the world. "thanks again for coming," he said, so soft, you could feel in your bones that he meant it.
"'course," you said, found it strange that it was entirely true. of course you would come when he called you. of course you'd indulge his every whim, when he asked so politely. "see you on friday? for dance?"
and he gave the slightest of pouts, but it drew your attention to his mouth nonetheless. made your cheeks feel hot, your heart beat fast, nonetheless. "too long, baby," he said, and you could have rolled your eyes at his boyish whine, but you never would. not when he was whining for you.
you just stayed quiet, let yourself smile, slightly. "maybe before friday, then?"
he grinned as if some plan he'd formed had turned out exactly as he'd hoped. "i'll text you," he said, giving you that fairytale smile, and you'd been told that before.
you'd been told that before, during nighttime hours that passed like slug across rain-drenched walkways. you'd been told that while in boxer shorts that weren't your own, standing in a doorframe that was practically laughing at you.
i'll text you, you'd been told, from some guy on his bed, on his phone, not quite looking at you.
and the doorframe might have cackled at how desperate you seemed, then, desperate for something you'd never get from this guy in the room you were leaving.
kick rocks, girl, the doorframe might have said, you know how many i've seen come in and out, even just this week? and you really think you're special?
but, right now, jack told you that he'd text you, and you couldn't find a doubt in your mind. you knew he would.
you proved to be right. the weekend flew by, because you were busy, yes, but also because of the near-ongoing text conversation you had fallen into with jack.
he might ask you something about the classes you were taking (besides ballroom), to which you would shyly tell him about some finance discussion you found genuinely interesting.
you might ask if he played sports at all, like his brother (he played hockey growing up, but wasn't good enough to play in college, like luke was with baseball), to which you would tell him you found it hard to believe that he could ever be not good enough at something.
and you'd believe it, too, wholeheartedly. sure, he had this ease to him, this softness, but he also seemed to possess a specific kind of eagerness, a delicious sort of hunger you felt must lead him to the things he wanted without exception.
you wouldn't admit it to anyone who asked, but he had you smiling at your phone on more than one occasion, had your heart beating a little faster with every notification. he had you dreamy. it was a good look on you.
that's how he had you, just over the phone, so the feeling was amplified by a million the next monday afternoon, after class, on your walk back from the business building, as you passed the tke house. a walk you'd taken a hundred-something times over the years, but this time was different, because your name was being called out of an upstairs window.
your heart stuttered, because you recognized that voice, in its confidence, in its goofy gentleness. you stopped walking, looked up, searching for an open window.
"that you, jack?" you called back, when you found it, found him leaning out of the pane with a smile you could see from where you stood. even though you knew. even though you'd never mistake his tone for anyone else.
he gave a pout. "who else?" he asked, and it was careful, calculated, even though it was playful. like he really wanted to know who else you thought would call your name from a window. like he really wanted to be the only one.
"oh, no one," you assured him, beginning to walk down the sidewalk again, towards your house, "you're my only romeo." you'd meant it in a joking way, but you could tell the first three words were the ones that mattered to him. the ones that would echo in his head. you're my only.
this made him light up, made him glow like a disco ball in a middle school gymnasium. "look so pretty today, baby!" he said, in response, before the distance between you grew so stark.
you flushed, wanted to feel the word pretty from his mouth against your neck, wanted to swallow it down. but you just smiled. "only today?" you asked, wondered where this confidence had come from, tried to imagine you saying that to anyone else. you couldn't.
"come back tomorrow, just to check!" he called out after you, making you shake your head, look down at your feet.
you weren't even back to your front door yet before your phone buzzed. not just today, he'd texted you.
i knew what you meant :), you sent back.
just didn't want you to think differently, he replied, followed by spend a scary amount of time thinking about how pretty you are.
the following day, you'd be lying if you said a smile didn't bloom across your face as you walked back after class, as you approached the tke house. maybe it was some pavlov response, but it was probably because you recognized the figure sitting on the window pane on the top floor, swinging his legs, just looking out, like he was on the top of a pirate ship.
you smiled, but your pulse stuttered, a bit. "jack?" you asked, although of course you knew it was him, that perfect facial structure, shag of soft hair. "is it safe up there?"
his gaze fixed on you, alight with flame and amusement. "worried 'bout me, baby?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but something in you twitched, because you were, actually. when did that happen?
"why're you hanging outta your window?" you asked, because you didn't need to tell him that you cared that much about him, not yet. you barely wanted to admit it to yourself, even.
he seemed to take your deflection as confirmation, anyways, to see right through you, as he typically did. his grin ticked up, a beautiful combination of a bashful blush and confident smile. he pushed his hair from his face. "knew you'd be walkin' by," he said, swung his feet up and back gently. "had to catch you."
you swallowed, ran your palms along the straps of your backpack in delighted disbelief. "you were waiting for me to walk by?" you asked, still not quite understanding.
he only nodded, tilted his head, gave the softest of smirks. it was almost too much. "don't you know you've got me waitin' by the phone, baby?" he asked, melodic. it was almost like he was making fun of you, with that teasing tone, but you knew in your heart that he wasn't. that he would never.
cherry-blossom pink bloomed across the bridge of your nose as his confession registered in your mind. the thought of him throughout his day, acutely aware of his phone in his pocket, his heart racing at every buzz, like yours did. "bein' so patient, are you?" you asked, the words smooth and drowsy in your throat, like cough syrup.
he hummed, swung a leg back over the pane, starting to shift his body back inside. "'m here when you need me, baby," he said, matter-of-fact, absolute. his gaze sharpened, the temperature of it rising to a scorch you felt like a slap. "or when you want me."
it was something sort of breathtaking, how honest he was with you, from the beginning. how he seemed perfectly content just waiting for you to come to terms with the attraction you felt so deeply. the attraction he could see in your eyes, in your breath, in your words.
you were scared, though, because this was the before part. and the guys you'd had before had appeared genuinely interested during the before part, too. it was the after part you were concerned about.
because what if he lost interest as soon as he had you, like the other guys did? he seemed so different, and so genuine, and sure, you'd never thought anyone to be as beautiful as him, but what if he wasn't different? what if he left you, too, standing alone, dumb, a desperate fool?
how many times had a beautiful trick forced your hand? you shivered at the thought, but the romantic in you wanted to believe. in yourself, in him. she wanted to believe in the love story between the beautiful trick and the desperate fool. she needed to.
the following day, perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised, as you approached tke house on your walk back, to recognize jack's familiar figure in his front yard. he appeared to be making progress closer to you, day by day, from inside his room, to outside his window, to now, just next to the sidewalk.
the scene you approached wasn't necessarily a rare one, not on the row, but it might appear odd to an outsider. a few of the brothers, some that you recognized, were sitting on a couch that they had obviously moved from inside, while a couple others, jack included, were lounging on adirondack chairs. most of them had computers out, doing work, or something like it. and, of course, because it was a sunny afternoon, all of them, save for one, were bare-chested.
you weren't especially sensitive or judgmental when it came to that sort of thing, but, as you got closer, you found your cheeks growing hot, anyways. you were embarrassed like a kid, like you'd been caught with something forbidden, and you might've walked right by the house, avoiding eye contact, if jack hadn't made that impossible.
"tryna sneak by, baby?" he called out from his chair, teasing, his posture so distractingly relaxed, knees spread wide. he waved you over with a knowing smile. "c'mere," he said, but not like a demand. like a request, sweet-sounding from his full mouth.
and you'd do just about anything he asked, so of course you exhaled, turned on your foot, walked nervously from the sidewalk onto the lawn, over to his chair. you nodded your hello to nico, on the couch, on your way, finally stilled in front of jack's chair.
your heart was pounding, your palms felt damp. he'd called you baby, in front of all of his friends, like you weren't something to hide. the opposite, actually, like you were something to show off, someone to be proud of. he looked at you like you were worth something, and he looked so beautiful, drenched in sunlight, so stunning that your throat felt tight.
"hi," you said, internally smacked yourself at how lame you sounded, how dumb.
"hi," jack parroted, his smile growing as he shut his computer, set it down on the ground next to him. you suspected he could probably feel your nerves, your distraction. you suspected he was delighted in it. and that made you feel a bit better, at least. to be his delight, for the moment being. "you know quinn, right?"
you turned your eyes to the chair next to jack, to a face you recognized, the only one in the yard wearing a shirt. "yeah," you answered, giving quinn a small nod, which he returned. "hey, quinn."
the older brother gave you a small smile. "hey," he replied, "heard your sam's been askin' about me."
you laughed, twisted the sole of your sneaker into the grass slowly. "she has," you confirmed, although you highly doubted her interest was genuine. "very recently, at least."
quinn just laughed, gave a slight shake of his head before turning back to his computer. he knew something you didn't, you could tell, but you couldn't focus on that, right now, not when jack's voice called you back from your curious state.
"wanna sit?" he asked, spreading his legs wider as if to make room for you. you scrunched up your nose, slightly, in thought.
"you're not busy?" you asked, sort of shaky, shifting on your feet.
he shook his head, gave his thigh a soft pat in invitation. "wanna hear about your day," he said, and you could have swooned.
you set down your backpack next to his laptop, on the grass, let him pull you onto his lap. you settled into his chest, crossed your feet over the far armrest, rested your hands in your own lap as he draped a heavy arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.
you tried not to ruminate too hard on how warm he was, how his bare skin seemed to spark against you like an electric shock. jesus, had you ever been so awkward?
"nervous, eh?"
you looked up at him, found his smile lazy but his eyes attentive, almost concerned. you nodded, because who could lie to those eyes? "you make me nervous," you said, plainly, because it was true.
he fixed you with that starry gaze, his mouth dipping slightly into something like relief. you were confused, your brow furrowing as he took your hand in his free one, brought your fingers up to his neck, just below his ear. he pressed your index and middle finger into his soft skin until you could feel his pulse, until it vibrated through you.
until you could feel just how fast his heart was beating. you felt molten, all over, like day-old valentine's day chocolate over a flame.
you rubbed careful circles into his neck, as if to soothe the underlying pace. "like you just ran up the stairs," you said, and it came out like a whisper. jack just huffed a laugh, let his hand fall to the top of your legs. there was something mesmerizing in his eyes when he looked at you, then. "thank you," you added, a breath.
"make me nervous, too, baby," he said, so soft only you could hear. his mouth twisted into a teasing grin. "'m just better at hidin' it."
you rolled your eyes, but relaxed deeper into him, all the same, leaning your head back on his extended arm, shifting across his lap. "guess 'll have to get better at it, then," you said, a small smile on your face.
he just shook his head. "hope you don't," he told you. "hope you never hide from me."
your tongue felt too big for your mouth, then, so you just asked about his day, told him about yours, felt yourself grow more and more comfortable with each passing second, as the sun peeled across the sky like a sweet orange. you had homework to do, but you lost track of time, talking with him about everything and nothing, about nonsense and significance. you found yourself hanging off of his words like they were his lips, found yourself laughing so genuinely and sharing more with him than you had with a new person in a long, long time.
his laugh rang in your head like church bells. everything he said to you felt like a secret, like something just between the two of you. people moved to and from the lawn as you spoke, as you listened, but neither of you seemed to notice. the hours melted away in moments.
"jesus, there you are," came a loud voice from the sidewalk, pulling you from your bubble. you turned, found sam, a hand on her hip, looking right at you. "would it kill you to answer your phone?"
guilt bloomed in your chest. you hadn't thought to check your phone in what must have been an eternity. you quickly picked yourself up from jack's lap to grab it from your bag, caught a glimpse of his pout, which made your stomach flip. you scrolled through your notifications, winced at the texts you'd missed, mostly sam asking where you were. "i'm sorry," you said, looking up at her, and you meant it.
sam didn't hold grudges, though, had better things to do. it was one of the things you loved about her. so she just waved you off, approached you where you knelt next to your phone. she tilted her chin up at jack in greeting before noticing his brother. "'sup, quinn," she said, pushing her glasses to the top of her head. "didn't get the tarps-off memo, did you?"
quinn looked up, smiled right back at her. his gaze darted to the front door of the house and back in a second, almost undetectable, but you noticed it, noticed quinn's grin grow almost devious. "sorry to disappoint, sammy," he said, emphasis heavy on the nickname, his eyes settling on the door again. he coughed, nodded his head. "hey, uh, alex."
you bit your lip to stifle a laugh, shared a look with jack, who touched your shoulder lightly. just to say are you getting this? just to say i'm right here with you. as if you'd forget.
sam spun around to face alex, who stood on the front steps, hands in the pockets of his shorts. he wasn't looking at sam, though. he was glaring daggers at quinn, who was acting oblivious, practically humming contently in his seat.
"excuse me?" sam's voice was pitched. "what the hell are you wearing?"
your eyes widened as you registered the front of alex's t-shirt. it was a pretty pale yellow, with some bid day slogan on it, over three identical triangles. alex was wearing something tri delt.
you felt jack lean forward, his mouth right by your ear. "that from this year's bid day?" he asked. you nodded slowly, so as to let the scene unfold in front of you without disruption.
alex just looked down at his shirt, shrugged, appeared to be the picture of confidence, even arrogance. "what's the big deal?"
sam rolled her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest. "tri delt, al, really?" sam sighed, then began to pull at the sleeves of her own sweatshirt, tug it over her head. of course, she was wearing only a bra underneath. of course, she didn't care.
quinn laughed, let out a whistle.
jack's laugh shook through you as he leaned forward, rested his forehead on your shoulder blade. you grinned at the intimacy of it, of letting him hide his laugh in you.
sam exhaled again, her sweatshirt now in her hand, which she extended to alex as she fixed her glasses. "here," she said, impatient.
alex narrowed his eyes, took the blue mass of fabric, pulled it over his head.
sam didn't wait to see him put it on, like she didn't need to check, instead turning on her heel, in pajama pants and pretty much nothing else, and began to walk back towards the a phi house. she gestured your way, "let's go, you," she ordered.
you scurried to grab your bag, pushed up on your feet, touched your fingers to jack's chin, lightly, before making to follow her. "movie tomorrow?" you asked, emboldened by hours of comfort, of being made to feel comfortable.
"yes, please," jack said, and the way he smiled up at you was something of dreams. "i'll text you, yeah?" you nodded, turned to run after your roommate.
"pleasure as always, madam president," nico called out from the couch, to which sam scoffed.
you caught up with her, hugged her into your side. "feeling feisty, eh?" you asked.
"tri delt," she said, biting, "what a moron, honestly. who does he think he is?"
you laughed. "i don't think he's thinking about anyone in tri delt, right now," you tried.
"and don't think we're not talking about you," she said, wagging a warning finger at you, "disappearing for hours, just for me to find you in the lap of a," she gasped dramatically, for emphasis, "frat boy!"
and you did talk about it, later, in the comfort of your room. you talked about jack, and how special he made you feel, and how patient he was with you, and how different he seemed.
and you talked about how scared you were, how you were so worried that as soon as you gave him any more of you, he'd take it all and run like blue and red flashed in the rearview. how you were more scared now, probably than ever before, because of how ready you were to give him whatever he wanted, and after such a short time of knowing him, too. to give him all of you, if he asked.
or, at least, to give him enough of you that, if he did run, he would leave nothing left.
sam listened, and asked questions, and talked for a long while, but the gist of it was that sometimes good things are scary. sometimes to be scared is to care, and sometimes to care is to be human.
"jesus, just look at me," she said, "make a fool out of myself on the daily for that scumbag, and look where it gets me." she sighed. "minus one sweatshirt and plus one poor boy calling me sammy."
you laughed. "you're a lot of things," you mused, "but you're no fool."
unlike you, foolish one, some voice in your head taunted, low and mean. your nose twitched.
sam hummed. "so, i should be out of the room tomorrow night?"
you groaned, hung your head in your hands. "it's a terrible idea, right?" you asked. "of course he's going to think something specific when i asked him to watch a movie at my place, hm?"
she just laughed at your anguish, put her hands up in surrender. "hey, you asked him," she pointed out. "not like he snapped you u up? at three a.m."
you scrunched up your nose. "i guess," you said.
"you make the rules," sam reminded you, "you set the pace." she fixed you with a look. "but you seem to like the fast track, love." she gestured to her cheeks. "you're glowing with it."
and maybe she was right. but you didn't feel like you were glowing, the following night, the night jack was supposed to come over.
you'd fussed over your hair and your clothes and your general being, made and remade your bed, folded all the clothes in your closet, as if he would be doing a thorough inspection.
you felt scattered, scared, so devastatingly nervous. you caught a glimpse of yourself in your mirror, almost flinched at the lack of confidence you found, the physical embodiment of anxiety. it seemed to web under your eyes like spiders, seemed to coat your skin like dull plaster.
it was sort of odd you felt so anxious, you thought, because you trusted jack. you trusted him so much, so truly. brutal memories had your sense of security all twisted around, though. at the moment, you couldn't quite grasp his lips against your temple, you couldn't tangibly touch his kind smile, didn't have the echo of his reassuring words in your ear.
you just felt crazy. crazy for wanting to trust him, somehow even more crazy for not being able to just let go. how badly you wanted to let go of the past, of your insecurities, of your fears.
it was almost like you were being pulled between two realties. you felt the stretch in the lines on your palms, in the seam of your mouth, in your breastbone. it was a pull between the kind of fear you found some deranged sort of certainty in and the future, what could be, what you could almost taste, if you'd just let yourself relax. if you'd only let yourself enjoy it.
why do you have to remember every embarrassment and failure? some voice in your head screamed, why can't you just be normal? you swallowed around your sadness, because he'd probably want someone normal, right? he probably wouldn't want you.
as if summoned by your despair, your attention was pulled upwards by a knock on your window, a few quick raps. you squinted, were shocked to find jack's pretty face on the other side of the glass.
you lived on the first floor, so it wasn't necessarily unsafe, or anything, but the front door was right there, and he was early. he was early, and you looked like a mess, felt like an even bigger one.
still, you walked over to the window, pulled it open. "what're you doing?" you asked, cleared your throat to hide the shake in your voice.
his blue eyes flashed with something like recognition, gone again in a moment. "am i too early?" he asked, like some impatient kid on christmas morning. "i can wait by the front door for another hour, if you want." you could have sighed in his voice, this specific tone that calmed you like lavender, the one that was almost making fun of you, but not quite.
even in your chaotically disorganized state, you just left the window open, stepped back. "'course you can come in now," you said, welcoming him in. you gave him a bit of a laugh, but it sounded kind of sad as it came out. "'m sorry about all this," you said, giving a rough gesture to your room, yourself, as you sat at the foot of your bed. "i'd probably have fixed it by the time you were supposed to get here."
he climbed into your room, and the sight was so intimate it made your chest contract. when he looked up at you, confusion dripped down his gaze like candle wax. "what do you mean?" he asked, coming to sit next to you, warm and easy. "fix what?"
you gave him a half-smile, genuinely believed he was just being polite. "i know i look crazy," you said, running your fingertips under your eyes. "i feel crazy."
his eyes filled with kind concern, not pity, but just care. he tentatively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulled you into his chest in an embrace that felt like a midday nap, exactly what you needed. "then i'm happy i couldn't stay away, crazy girl," he said, and it was so soft it hurt. "tell me." a request, only because he wanted to know. he wanted to know you.
and, after a sigh, you did tell him, just as you'd told sam. you told him about how scared you were, about how you could feel how he was different, how you knew it like some philosophical principle, but how you were terrified, anyways.
you told him about how dumb, how juvenile and stupid you'd felt, over and over again, just for wanting to be taken seriously, just for wanting someone to deem you worthy of something longer than a night. just for wanting someone to stay. you told him about how you'd had people be so sweet and kind and caring, but they'd still left after they'd gotten what they'd wanted.
and you sort of felt pathetic as you spoke, and you half expected him to laugh, to tell you that you were like every other girl, expecting un-promised things from some poor guy. but, of course, he didn't. of course, he just held you to his chest, listened to you the entire time, his thumb rubbing circles into your upper arm.
"i don't want you to think that i think you're a bad guy," you made sure to say, looking up at him, "and i don't want you to think that i don't care about your life, and your anxieties, and stuff, just because i'm rambling about mine." you let your eyes flood with everything you were feeling. "but i also don't want you to think i'm disinterested, or bored, or something."
he hummed, and it was quiet, for a moment, as your words rolled around his head. "what do you want me to think, then?" he asked, finally, gently.
you leaned your head on his shoulder, thought for a second. "i want you to know that i'm into you," you landed on, and the truth tasted sweet on your tongue. "and i want to ask you to keep being patient with me, please." your mouth quirked up. "like you already are, i guess."
his smile was something dreamy before he pressed his lips to your hair. "how about this?" he said, a murmur, "how about you let me try to convince you i'm staying, hm? trust me to?"
you found yourself nodding.
"and if you want something, you just ask me, okay, baby?" he amended. "ask me, and i'll be here. promise."
you looked up at him through your lashes. "thank you," you breathed, after a pause, because a promise was something special. him being so soft with you was something special, too.
he gave a slight shrug, his smile almost a smirk. "you told me you're into me, baby," he said, like that explained everything.
you just laughed into his shoulder, felt fear melt away, dissolve into the air. "what did you come over for, again?" you joked, because you were supposed to be watching a movie, and instead you'd unloaded all this information on him. instead, you'd told him how you felt.
but he didn't seem to hear the joke in your tone. "to see you," he said, simply, making you flush.
eventually, you watched the second scream movie, which was your favorite, and you asked about his day, and you continued to add to the filing cabinet of information about jack that existed in your mind. eventually, the dim light and night air made your words slow and your eyes droopy. eventually, the two of you fell asleep.
when your eyes fluttered awake, sunlight poured in through your curtains like flour through a sieve. your limbs felt stiff, your neck tight, having fallen asleep in an awkward position, but your head was clear, not foggy at all. you'd slept scarily well.
a slight shift on your mattress drew your attention, and your eyes widened when you registered jack, still asleep, still in the clothes he'd come in last night. you looked around to find your laptop on the floor, jack's sweatshirt halfway off the side of the bed.
checking your phone for the time, you mouthed a curse, because you were already late for your eight a.m. you must have forgotten to set your alarm for this morning. admittedly, you had been awfully busy last night, in a comfortable sort of way. you'd had much more important things on your mind than today's lecture, namely the way jack's voice grew rougher as the hours passed. namely, how he shared things with you like he trusted you with everything, like he knew you'd take care of him.
you silently rose, crept to the bathroom to brush your teeth and quickly get ready. when you emerged again, you were relieved to find his eyes still closed.
he looked so peaceful, like this, so blissful, almost angelic. the morning sun settled on his face, the crown of his head like a halo, his chest rising and falling with even breaths.
as you pulled on a different shirt and shorts, you couldn't help the small smile that stretched across your face. because, you remembered, you'd told him everything, and he had stayed. when you looked over at him, he didn't disappear. he was really, genuinely there, and had felt comfortable enough in your bed, in your space, to fall asleep with his arm under your neck, with his knee grazing your hip.
only when you picked up your backpack did he stir, reaching a hand to rub over his face, stretching with a groan that made you blush. when he retracted his hand, resting it up against your headboard, his sleepy gaze found yours. he smiled, an instinct, a compulsion. you smiled back. "tryna sneak out on me?" he said, yawning halfway through.
you approached the side of the bed he was laying on, by your nightstand, bent down and sat back on your heels so you were close to eye level with him. "no," you told him, honestly. you pushed his hair back from his face, and he hummed at your touch, eyes drowsy, getting used to the light from the window. perhaps still getting used to the light of you. "just didn't want to wake you."
he exhaled, and you felt the heat of it on your arm. "going to class?" he asked.
you nodded, smiled. "but i'll see you later, maybe?" you asked, hopeful. "i'll text you?"
"please," was his reply.
before you pushed up from your knees, though, you bit your lip with indecision. "jack," you began.
"yeah, baby?" he asked, almost confused, certainly intrigued.
"remember when you said to tell you when i want something?" you tone had grown cautious.
"'course," he said, reaching a hand forward, under your chin, to keep your eyes trained on his.
you swallowed, shifted. "i want something."
he smiled, shy, in a flash of teeth, just so, so pleased. "anything," he answered, sleep now gone from his gaze, replaced with something sharper, something beautiful. "anything." he said it like a plea.
you breathed out, searched his eyes, then leaned forward slowly, pressed your lips gently to his. only for a second, soft as anything, barely there, before making to pull away again.
then his broad hand was on the side of your face, though, guiding you back to his mouth, this time harder in commitment but not in force. the positioning was kind of awkward, with him propped up on his elbow, and he tasted a little bitter from the morning, and your heart felt like it was buzzing, but it was perfect. it was perfect, all of it, because it was with him.
no running away, his kiss seemed to scream at you, not from me.
you hoped he could sense your promise by the way you reached an arm around his neck, by the way you relaxed into his mouth, practically a sigh of relief.
he felt like lazy laundry days and laughing in the kitchen and pinkie promises. he smelled like worn-out cologne from the night before. he felt like trust, and belief, and something meaningful. he felt like something, someone, you could get used to. someone you wanted to, at least.
you both pulled away, at some point, only just barely, enough to catch your breath. you ran your nails along the nape of his neck, watched his glossy gaze settle on you.
"'m really gonna be late, now," you said, dumb, but you didn't really care. you had greater things to care about, it seemed.
he laughed, and you felt it in your fingers. "they're lucky they're getting you at all," he said, and it was a rasp. his smile grew lopsided. "or maybe 'm the lucky one."
you gave a slight shake of your head. he just said these kinds of things, and he didn't think about how they'd make your vision spin. how terribly inconsiderate. "i'll see you later?" you clarified, giving his shoulder a squeeze before getting up, lugging your backpack on.
he nodded, still a bit dazed, it seemed.
the thought made you smile. "bye, jack," you said, on your way out.
"bye, baby," he called out after you, a sing-song. you could hear the happiness leaking from his voice, could almost taste it.
time passed quickly and blissfully, from there. the semester began to rush forward in a flurry of classes and chapter meetings and philanthropy obligations, all which were cut with movie nights with jack in your room, nights on which he slept over more often than not (you swore every time he came over he stole a different sweatshirt of yours. your closet was starting to look scarce, but whenever you saw him push the too-tight sleeves up on his forearms, you couldn't find it in yourself to mind), dance class on friday afternoons (you didn't know how someone could be so tragically terrible at ballroom as you seemed to be, but you looked forward to it, all the same), parties at tke on the weekends (you grew to know his friends and brothers and their girlfriends, grew to be a part of their little world).
tonight was one of those parties, and you were in your room, trying to figure out what you were going to wear, before sam burst in the door.
"we're not going," she said, plain and simple, sitting on her bed.
you looked at her with a raised brow. "why not?" your eyes widened. "what did alex do?"
she rolled her eyes. "it's not alex," she explained. "i told nico no more bros and hoes bullshit a long time ago, and he didn't listen." she shook her head, as if disappointed. "what is the theme, if not golf bros and tennis club hoes?"
you gave a light laugh. "so we're actually not going?"
"nope," sam declared, "already put it in the chat. a phi is boycotting."
as if on cue, you received a text from jack that read coming tonight?
haven't you heard, you sent back, a phi is on strike :)
you accepted his almost instantaneous face-time request, grinning as his pretty features filled your screen. "what do you mean you're on strike?" was his immediate question.
"hi to you, too, jack," you teased, your stomach flipping when his eyes filled with something soft.
"hi, baby, 'm sorry," he amended, and his voice was genuine.
you waved his apology off lightheartedly. "i'm under strict presidential orders," you told him, "apparently nico didn't heed the warning about the bros and hoes thing."
jack groaned, then looked away from the screen for a second. "they're not coming," he called out to someone, "like, actually, all of a phi is not coming."
"and we're not budging!" sam called out from her bed.
"is that sam?" came another voice from jack's end. "put her on."
and so the phones were passed to alex and sam, respectively.
"c'mon, sam," alex said, the most emotion you'd heard from him in a while. "you guys need to come out. we need you there."
it was true, sort of. they needed girls there, and a phi was plentiful with pretty smiles and kind laughs.
"no can do, al," sam said, smug. "tke needs to learn their lesson."
alex blinked.
"will you put nico on, please?" sam asked, syrupy sweet. "i have some choice words for him."
"no, you can't talk to nico," alex responded, short.
"what's the deal, madam?" came a very nico-sounding voice, off screen. "it's a good theme, eh? think you'd look great in a tennis skirt."
you rolled your eyes.
"what, won't let him talk without his lawyer present?" sam pressed.
jack's laugh was bright. you felt it through the screen.
"he can talk to you when he puts a shirt on," was the curt response.
you smirked. alex was not doing a very good job of shielding his emotions, not anymore.
"you know me better than that, don't you?" sam asked, almost offended. "not one to get distracted easily by a bare chest."
alex sighed, rubbed a hand over his face.
"are you saying you get distracted by nico's abs, al?" sam continued. "i mean, i get it, even if i can't relate personally."
"you're not talking to him, sam," alex said. "our theme for tonight is not up for debate. it's too late."
sam gave a dramatic sigh, appeared deep in thought.
"well, can i talk to quinn, then?" sam said. "not for any reason, really, just want to see his face."
you bit your lip out of frame, smiled, because you had a feeling jack was doing something similar. you had a feeling that if you were in the same room, right now, you'd be sharing a knowing glance, a hidden laugh. you felt warm with that knowledge.
"quinn's busy," alex bit out. you could almost hear his grinding teeth.
sam just gave a theatrical pout that had you giggling.
"shame," sam said, a winning smile on her face.
you heard alex's deep exhale. "you're killing me, here, beautiful," he said, a sigh. your eyes widened. was alex finally breaking?
sam just hummed. "'s that my sweatshirt you're wearing, al?" she asked. "color looks nice on you."
then she handed the phone back to you, walked from the room, and when you looked down at the screen, alex was gone, too, leaving only the soft slope of jack's nose, messy hair in his face. "hi," you said, a smile bubbling free.
"hi," he parroted. "if you're not coming, then, what're you doing tonight?"
you shrugged. "probably just watching a movie here," you said. "nothing crazy."
his nose twitched, his eyes shone with an unasked question.
"wanna join?" you asked, loving the way his face lit up at your invitation.
he sucked on his teeth, and your stomach coiled with heat at the sight. "think 'm technically supposed to be here," he said, to which you pouted. "but i might be able to sneak out."
"sneak outta your own party?" you asked, a light laugh on your mouth like a sparkly gloss.
"for you," he added, which made your laugh settle into something dangerous.
you scrunched up your face in delight. "'ll leave my window open, then," you said.
"thank you, baby," he said, waited for you to hang up first.
you did leave your window open, let the cool nighttime breeze ease in, blowing your curtains slightly, the edges of your sheets by your feet. you were comfortably on your side, your mind quiet as your eyes lazily took in your computer screen.
the tassels on your drapes seemed to sing at jack's knock on the window pane. the fixtures in your room seemed to relax, the wood of your desk turning malleable, the light on the ceiling to burn hotter, dimmer.
play it cool, you wanted to shush them, the way you whisper to your friends in middle school when your crush walks past your locker, just act normal.
your smile crept up on you, slow and genuine, as he swung his other leg over, shut the window again, immediately kicking off his sneakers and collapsing on top of you, the weight of him almost oppressive against your chest, your face.
you laughed nonetheless, wrapped your arms around his middle to hug him closer, to breathe him in. you felt his neck relax, his heavy head hang just above your shoulder. he let out a breath, like he was exhaling everything heavy. like he was making space for you in his lungs, in his chest, in his being.
you rubbed gentle circles into his back over his sweatshirt. "successful jailbreak?" you murmured, your voice muffled into his chest.
he pressed his lips to your shoulder, gently, before rolling off of you, soft as anything but sparking heat between the two of you nonetheless. "you've made a fugitive out of me," he joked, laying an arm over your torso and pulling you into his side.
"sure they won't be missing you?" you asked, brushing his hair from his face. his eyes simmered with something lovely.
he gave a shrug you felt through your whole body. "if i was there, i'd be missin' you," he clarified in explanation. of course, your heart stuttered like a shy kid giving a speech at an all-school assembly.
"i'm glad you're here," you said, soft, the words not feeling like nearly enough. you hooked one leg around his, tangling the two of you further, then rethought your action.
because you'd known guys who'd groan at this kind of thing from you, who would warn you not to start something you couldn't finish, who would call you a tease or something much meaner.
but, of course, jack did no such thing. he just relaxed deeper into the position, nodded towards your abandoned computer. "what're we watching?" he asked.
you swallowed. it struck you as weird, that his endless patience and kindness sparked something hot in your stomach, that you wanted to give him anything and everything, all because he would never demand it of you.
his hand on your back suddenly felt heavy, his leg under yours too warm. you hummed, tilted your head up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
you could feel him smile against your lips. "what's that for, baby?" he asked, rough.
"for you," you answered, simply.
you felt his pleased exhale in your bones as he took your chin in his hand, led your mouth to his in a deeper kiss, this time, one that felt like coffee mugs with lipstick on the rim, like good morning texts before you wake up, like burning fireplaces in the winter, fragrant and lively. "so sweet for me, baby," he mumbled against your mouth.
you sighed, ran your fingertips along his jaw, found courage in the blue of his eyes that willed your nerves away. "can i have something, please?"
"anything," he answered, softly, immediately, as he always had.
you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, wondering what you were actually asking for. "i just want," you started, uncertain, then started again. "just-"
you cut yourself off with a shaky exhale, reaching an arm around his neck, shifted your body until you were on top of him, kissed him with something feverish in your veins. he let out some kind of whimper-ish sound, so strained, so desperate, as his hand found your hips, held you to him with intention.
you kissed him like you were burning, like you needed him to taste the flame of your want, like your desire was some burden you couldn't possibly shoulder alone.
he didn't seem to mind, anyways, quite the opposite - he kissed you back like he'd take anything you'd give him, like the fire you were exuding was water in a drought, like you were some fabled savior. like you were saving him.
you pulled gently at the hem of his pink sweatshirt, or yours, rather, withdrew slightly to help him tug it off. he was so beautiful, always, but especially now, glowing in the light of your bedroom, flushed entirely because of you, eyelids heavy with attraction.
you stilled, straddling his hips, his back against your headboard as you traced the veins in his arms with your fingertips.
his thumbs slipped under your sleep shorts, rubbed feather-light circles into the flesh of your hips. "tell me what you need, baby," he said. "whatever you want, swear it."
you bit your lip to dull your smile, because you realized, in that moment, that there was no semblance of fear in your mind. not even a drop of doubt. you knew, that no matter what you gave to him, no matter how much of yourself you offered up, he wouldn't leave you, dumb and ashamed, standing alone in some taunting doorway. he'd stay.
the fact made unfiltered want flow through you, powerful as a river after heavy rain.
you met his gaze with a confidence that hadn't been there in a long time, that he seemed to pull from you with ease. you rocked your hips against his lap, relished in the strain you saw in his eyes. "wanna feel you inside me," you rasped, continuing to shift back and forth. "wanna make you feel good, hm?"
you felt his groan in your teeth as he flipped you on your back in a single, swift motion, left messy, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck. he didn't saw anything about how long he'd been waiting, about how long you'd made him wait, and you had a feeling it was because he genuinely didn't care.
you had a feeling the only thing he cared about, in this current moment, was the feeling of your collarbone under his teeth, the way your hands rooted in the curls of his hair, the not-nearly-enough friction of his grinding hips against yours.
you both twisted and tugged clothes aside, hurried, almost crazed, until you could take him in your palm, hard and hot, run your grip up and down his length, urging a groan from his throat that you wanted to taste. his exhales were so, so labored as his hips jerked towards you involuntarily.
your eyes widened, because you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be with someone like this, to be with someone whom you trusted entirely, someone whose pleasure you could feel as deeply as if it was your own. it made your blood feel volcanic as it beat from your heart.
"please, jack," you begged, and his overwhelmed gaze found yours, again.
"i know, baby," he cooed, running his fingers through your folds, cursing under his breath at how wet he found you, from barely being touched. all from him. your grip around him faltered as he pushed two fingers inside of you, the stretch immediate. "i know." you cursed, shut your eyes as he thumbed your clit, making your breath feel heavy in your mouth. he retreated further. "just wanna taste you first, baby, please?"
you just nodded, perfectly happy to give him any he wanted. then his mouth was on you, his tongue slow, methodical, as you tugged at his hair, your face pinched in pleasure.
pressure coiled inside of you as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your back arch up of your bed, the friction dreamy.
the weight of him pressed your hips down, heightening the sensation, making each motion of his fingers feel like an eruption of flame, each swipe of his tongue feel monumental.
you choked out a whine of his name, pulled on his curls just a little harder, lewd, slick noises echoing in your ears. "more," you breathed, to which he groaned, rocked his hips against the bed, desperate for some kind of friction, some kind of relief. the sight had you clenching around his fingers.
"not enough?" he asked, his voice gentle, the fervor of his motions anything but. "need more, do you, pretty thing?" you nodded, whimpered a please, which had him pulling his deft fingers from you, shifting closer to you. he angled his cock to your core, held your hips down with his other hand. he hummed. "you can have it, baby."
your eyes fluttered shut as he began to push inside of you with a moan that you swore made your lampshade blush, made the conservative hangers in your closet shake their heads, disappointed. you grasped at his forearm with a reaching hand, fisted the other in your cotton sheets, the texture heightened in your palm.
you felt the stretch everywhere, half expected your bedroom to crack in half, to feel the pressure just as acutely as you did. "almost there, baby, 'atta girl," he bit out, "fuck, feel so good for me."
you whined at his words, at the feeling of him all the way inside of you, that perfect stretch that gave way to something deliriously good as he began to move and in out, slow, deep.
you felt your eyes roll back, as if in slow motion, as you dug your nails into his arm, shuddered at the sensation as he pressed your hips harder into your mattress. "'s so deep, jack, fuck," you breathed, careful as a wince.
he held the top of your headboard with a steady grip, increased his pace. when he spoke, his voice was gritty. "that okay, baby?" he asked, shifting your hips to make you more comfortable, to make the angle feel better. "how's that?"
"so good," you moaned, raw, "feel you everywhere."
and it was true. he thrust in and out of you at a mind-numbing pace, with an intensity that burned through your body. time seemed to freeze, or maybe to liquify, to flow like molten rock. to scatter into oblivion, marked in breathy pants and strained moans, desperate kisses and tired muscles instead of minutes and seconds.
at some point, he took his hand off of your headboard, brought it to his mouth, bit down, as if to stifle a groan, as if to distract himself, last longer for you.
the thought shot right to your core, made your head spin faster, that his pleasure might run so deep, because of you, that he needed a distraction from it.
you moved your hand to your clit, rubbing carefully, moaning at the stimulation, which made you clench down, grip him in a maddening kind of way.
he gave a choked moan. "fuck," he grunted. "can't, jesus, can't do it, baby, so wet for me." his voice was a tortured sort of overwhelmed as his hips sputtered, as his pace continued, harder, faster.
he made to look away from you, maybe to sink his teeth into the flesh of his hand, again, but you wouldn't let him, instead reaching up to pull his fingers to your own mouth, press them against your tongue, soothe the angry red mark that had begun to show.
you swore your mind was somewhere else, somewhere shiny, somewhere sleepy, as you felt his stomach and thighs contract, firm and wiry.
"won't last like this, pretty thing," he breathed, a slight sheen on his collarbones, his forehead, shimmery under the overhead light. "so close, baby, feel too good for me." his exhale was unsteady. "so perfect like this."
"want it," you whined, so impossibly close, yourself. "need it so bad, baby, please. want all of it." your eyes met his. "need you."
he seemed to shatter at your words, at your request, his high, warm and hazy, triggering your own, a blur of whines and pleases and his hot breath at your temple, an all-consuming wave that had your vision blurring, had you clenching down on him so tightly.
he collapsed on top of you for the second time that night, this time his skin glowy and damp, the air sticky and humid as you both let your breathing normalize again, as you let your eyes flutter open.
he rolled to your side, refusing to unclasp his arms around your back, consequently pulling you to his chest, your nose against his breastbone. you traced a hand along the top of his spine, so perfectly content, so wonderfully blissful.
with anyone else, now would be the time when the anxiety really set in. now would be the time that the furniture started to hiss at you to get out.
such anxiety was nowhere to be found, though, not now. not with him. his rough hands felt soft on your back as he shifted deeper into your bed, making himself comfortable, making you comfortable, too, in succession.
and even though you knew it, he knew you, just so, so well. "'m staying," he whispered into your hair, "long as you'll let me."
your heart was pink jello in your chest. you pressed your swollen lips to his shoulder. "i'll let you," you promised.
and so your self-proclaimed frat-boy-ban was broken, completely done away with, replaced instead by the most delicious stability.
the already fast-paced semester was made a fairytale blur by your beautiful exception, in all of his endless kindness, his unrelenting loveliness.
how many afternoons did you spend in his lap, out on his front lawn? how many nights did you fall asleep together, tangled up in each other? how many parties started with his hat backwards on his head, but ended with it on yours, instead? when did you start to leave your window open, every night? how many mornings did he surprise you with coffee, remembering your order like it mattered, simply because it was something you'd told him? how many times did his beauty and thoughtfulness surprise you, again and again?
like the time you went with him to a baseball game, an away one, this time, to support his friends and brother, when you insisted that you'd drive. you'd had to stop for gas, halfway through, gotten out of your truck, had only just stuck the nozzle in before he'd come around the side to lean against the door.
you had felt yourself raise a brow, almost confused. "sort of a one person job," you'd joked, to which he'd smiled, leaned back further against the side, just waiting with you.
like he couldn't bear to sit in the passenger seat, alone, not when you were out here, hands idle.
or like the night of your ballroom dance midterm performance, in front of an audience (an audience that included a lot of your friends). you'd stumbled halfway through the steps, nothing crazy, but certainly enough to notice. your face had grown hot, an embarrassed strawberry-milk flush.
but then, across the stage, jack had tripped over his own feet, in a way that looked pretty intentional, if you thought so yourself, as if he wanted to draw everyone's attention for a moment. as if he wanted to keep any potentially judgmental eyes off of you. he caught your knowing gaze as he pushed himself off of the floor, shot you a cheeky wink.
or, like tonight, a phi's blind date formal. this event was always a highlight of the year, at the very least always entertaining, always a good source of drama, of gossip, for a few weeks following.
planning it was a nightmare, from what sam had told you, a disorienting flurry of spreadsheets and communications with different frats and teams. typically, each house was matched with a frat and an athletic roster, and the dates were assigned from there, based on survey results and different requests.
you were excited for tonight, not nervous at all, because you'd requested jack as your date, and sam practically ran the whole thing, so you knew there would be no surprises.
for you, tonight was just a fun opportunity to dress up, to hang out with your best friends and your favorite boy.
the reveal of the dates was one of the best parts of the night. you'd be called upon to come out the door, and your date was supposed to be standing on the front step to walk you to the venue of the formal, just a few blocks away.
you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror, turned to sam as you slung your clutch over your shoulder. "ready?" you asked, to which sam gave herself a spritz of perfume, nodded. you held the door for her. "did you tell me already if you requested somebody?"
she gave you a grin. "quinn," she said, simply.
you laughed. "you're gonna drive poor alex crazy," you chided.
she just shrugged. "he's driving me crazy, more like," she corrected. "all he does is bitch and moan when i mention other guys, then he wears my sweatshirt like it's all he owns, calls me beautiful, all that nonsense." she gave you a look. "i'm losing hope, love. if he doesn't make a legitimate move soon, i might go for quinn for real, just for all his trouble."
when it was your turn to open the front door, you took a breath, turned the handle, weren't surprised to find that familiar figure on the other side, pink flowers in his hand, his suit fitting him so wonderfully, his eyes softening when they caught on you.
your smile came easily, so naturally, as you approached him. he reached an arm around your middle, pulled you into his embrace by the small of your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you pressed your lips to his jaw in greeting before he pulled back.
"let me get a look at you," he said, soft, holding your hand at a distance, giving you a twirl that made you feel like a princess. he whistled. "i'm the one on your arm, tonight, pretty thing?" he asked, his smile toothy. "must be my lucky night."
you flushed with contentment, ducked into his side. "i'm the lucky one," you insisted, before the door opened again, making the two of you move to the sidewalk as he handed you your flowers, which you accepted with bashful thanks.
sam now stood in the open doorframe, but her wandering eyes narrowed when they landed on the curly-haired boy that stood on the front step. "what the hell is this about, alex?" she hissed.
"you look lovely, sam," alex said, undeterred.
"yeah, okay, thanks," sam said, "you know i requested-"
"i know," alex interrupted. "i vetoed your reuqest." he offered her his arm, which she took, lightly, reluctantly.
"that's not how this works," she reminded him, "you don't get a veto."
"i'm the president," he deadpanned, "of course i get a veto."
"i'm the president," sam retorted, "and i requested-"
alex sighed, turned to face sam, placed his palm over her mouth. "stop," he said, short, "talking."
her eyes narrowed, and jack pinched your side as you took in the sight in front of you. you shared an excited look.
"please be my date, tonight," alex asked, removing his hand from sam's face only after her mouth stopped moving. "for real."
after a brief pause, sam's mouth broke into a wide grin as she looped her arm through alex's, fell into step behind you and jack. "get up off your hands and knees, al," she teased, "'course i'll be your date. waited long enough, haven't i?"
it was a storybook sort of night from there, one defined by shared laughter and good music and gushing with your friends about their dresses.
time passed too fast in a blur of dance-floor spins that made the hem of your dress bloom, gentle touches and laughs into shoulders.
at some point, you and sam took a break by the edge of the venue, next to the refreshment table, having promised to bring jack back a drink. sophie approached you. you smiled, having not really seen her since the last chapter meeting.
"hey, sophie," you said, "this dress is stunning on you."
"thank you," sophie said, genuinely, before her eyes flashed. "if you see cole come up behind me, warn me, okay?"
"isn't cole your date, though?" sam asked.
sophie sighed. "technically, yes," she admitted, "but he thinks i requested him, which i didn't, so now he's being especially persistent."
you tilted your head. "so you got paired together because your survey results matched up? completely organically?"
"i guess," she answered, exasperated. "which i don't get, because we have, like, nothing in common."
"you have a little in common," sam said, "you both love baseball. it's, like, all you talk about."
"okay, so we have one thing in common," sophie conceded. "it's a conflict of interest! i'm supposed to be an impartial reporter!"
you shrugged. "impartiality is overrated," you said, and you meant it. now that you'd settled into being completely honest about how you felt, you couldn't imagine it any other way, couldn't fathom hiding that kind of thing from people that mattered.
"code cole, code cole," sam whispered.
"soph, you gotta stop running away from me," cole said, coming up behind her, shooting her that confident smirk. "tirin' me out, love."
sophie sighed, turned to face him, crossed her arms over her chest.
"care for a dance?" cole asked, extending his hand to her.
her gaze dipped to his fingers, then rose again. "i'll dance with you," she said, which made cole light up with excitement, "if you agree to give me at least one objectively useable quote after ever single game for the rest of the year."
cole blew out a breath like it was the easiest decision of his life. "done," he declared. he gave an enthusiastic fist pump when sophie took his hand and led him to the floor.
leaning back against the table, you and sam scanned the room, laughing at trevor's ridiculously bold suit, scoffing at nico, who was dancing with two girls at the same time, sharing a knowing glance when you registered quinn and luke, sitting at a table on the outskirts, luke's tie completely untied, quinn's tied around his head. the two loners appeared to be engaged in a game of cards with their respective dates.
eventually, you made good on your promise to jack, grabbing two drinks. when you turned your back on the table, he was walking up to you, his face pleasantly flushed, eyes so doting. your smile grew as he got closer. your eyes shut, delighted, when he threw an arm around your shoulders.
"there you are, baby," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. you were hit with a dizzying sense of deja vu, knowing you'd been here before, knowing so much had changed since the last time you'd been in this position. "thanks for holding my drink for me."
you smiled up at him, leaning into his side, warm and firm against you. it was something magnificent, to have it not be an act, this time. to have it be completely genuine. to have it be real.
"of course, baby," you said, the slight tease in your tone made shimmery by the glint in his gaze.
he hummed, moved his arm down to wrap around your waist, pull you against him as he swayed back and forth to the music. you exhaled, so utterly at peace, relaxed into his chest, tilted your head back to look up at him. he met your gaze eagerly, that smile you so adored overtaking his face like a mural on the side of a building. "what?" he asked.
you shook your head, laughed lightly. because what, really? how could you sum it up? "you," you answered, honestly. "just you."
how could you sum him up? he was one million things. your pretend boyfriend in the face of campus security. your ballroom dance partner. your movie-night, good-morning text, sweatshirt stealer. your window-climber, baseball-watcher, owner of your favorite smile. your tke boy. your exception.
he was one million things, but, when he leaned down to press his lips to your hair, he was only one.
yours.
fin.
957 notes · View notes
beetlejuicyy · 14 days
Text
Tumblr media
Ascension | True Form! Sukuna x Reader
Summary: Ryomen Sukuna is a ruthless monster who takes pleasure in slaughter and destruction. You are his favorite, but that makes the other servants on his estate envy your status. What will master Sukuna do to you when he hears the rumors of his favorite slut bedding a common servant from the kitchen?
Warnings: all of them lol it's sukuna violence, blood, death, sexual content, graphic description, exhibitionism (if there are any others I should mention please let me know)
Word count: 6,518
Read on AO3
Notes: I also had the audacity to end it with fluff??
Masterlist
Tumblr media
The corridor leading to master Sukuna’s chambers was infinite. You had walked along the creaking wooden floor so many times before, shortly after you went into his service. Stories of unimaginable violence were spreading from servant to servant, starting with the man who would fix a broken wall to the girl wiping blood off clothes. Clothes of men and women who were called in but never came back. He was a monster. Tall muscular body and four arms, always towering over mortals from his throne in the main hall. People were saying he could have your body sliced in half with only one look from afar. Four blood red eyes, feeding off the trembling of voices, shaking of bodies begging for forgiveness. He had none to spare.
However gruesome the stories about Ryomen Sukuna were all over the country, people still flocked to his mansion, offering their services. People with nowhere left to go, people betrayed and hunted by their own kind, the weak, the poor, the lonely. As much of a monster as he was, his home provided a purpose and a haven for those with no place left among humans.
You were no different. When he first summoned you to his chambers, you expected the most painful and humiliating fuck you could ever imagine.
Violence turns him on.
A lot of the women who survived his bed were saying the same thing. Especially then, when he had just come back from killing an entire village, leaving fire and blood in his footsteps, he was sexually aroused for sure. The girl who was going to be summoned that night was going to die, everyone was sure of that. But you didn’t.
“Men are pathetic.” You told him, looking straight to the floor. That was the first time you saw him, sitting high on his throne, an immaculate white yukata covering his now clean body. No sign of the disasters he had brought upon were left on his body, except the obvious erection you could see poking from underneath the fabric. He crossed one muscular leg over the other, resting his chin on the palm of his lower left arm.
“How so?” His voice didn’t scare you, like you expected. But then again, after you walked along the hall and stopped in front of the stairs of his throne, you couldn’t look at him anymore. His form was so imposing, so intimidating, towering over you. He didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a god.
“They kill and they rape and they destroy. But they pretend to be righteous.” You were wearing a royal green kimono that softened the red of your skin, as blood was running rapidly through your veins.
“I did the same thing just earlier.” He said, exposing his sharp teeth in a vicious grin, as if he had just caught you lying.
“They are weak, master. You are a god.” You forced your eyes away from the floor. If you were to survive in his service, you had one simple thing to do. Obey. “I would rather serve you, my lord.”
He looked at you in silence, all four eyes quietly analyzing you, your posture, your face, your breasts that barely fit in the kimono who belonged to someone else. You could hear the sound of your own breath, empty air echoing in your lungs. He was unmoved.
“I’ve heard this tale before.” He said, eyes looking down at you through lashes.
He never seemed bothered by your daring eyes so you compelled them to keep looking up. You were sick and twisted compared to other people, you’ve noticed it since you were a child. Maybe that’s why, contrary to all the stories you’ve heard in the first few days you had already spent there, you found Sukuna handsome, more than anything else. Yes, he was a monster in size and in strength, his build terrifying, his eyes piercing and deadly. But all of these things came together as hunky, almost statuesque. The way he was looking at you, a mix of boredom and indifference to your existence, like he controlled the way the universe worked. Your eyes roamed along his body, taking advantage of the time he took to ponder on your fate. The most popular rumor, that was acknowledged as a fact by all the stories circulating, was that he had two cocks. Your eyes fell on his lap and your lips parted slightly in curiosity. Did he really? You were so focused on his body that you didn’t notice the corners of his mouth curled in a perverted grin splattered across his face. Sukuna noticed you were practically undressing him with your eyes alone.
“You seem to be sincere.” His voice reverberated in the empty hall, snapping you out of your daydream. You looked at him with eyes round in surprise as he gestured for you to approach him, his arm extended towards you, rough long fingers inviting.
This time, however, you had the feeling you weren’t going to be coming back alive. You had become his favorite quickly. He would always call for a different woman, most of the time specifying certain features that she had to possess. One night he wanted a short woman, the other a big breasted one with short hair, other times he wanted a woman with visible scars on her body. He never knew their names and never bothered with remembering. They were simple objects to fulfill his bodily needs. Soon, he started asking for you, specifically by name. In no time, you were the only one summoned to his chambers. People noticed it as did you, and you began getting ready, washing your body, bathing in perfumes, decorating it with jewels and the most beautiful of fabrics, knowing Sukuna would soon be back drunk on brutality and violence, eager to fuck you numb.
At first, the other servants were relieved. The women gradually let go of the crippling fear of being chosen to entertain the master in his chambers, the men relieved of the fear that, if the woman they brought in front of the master failed to satisfy him, their bodies would be slashed in pieces. But lack of fear allowed enough space for other emotions in the hearts of the servants.
Envy.
You were too quiet, too serene. As if you enjoyed your status. Moreover, the stories about what was happening behind the closed doors of his chambers were now scarce. You abstained from talking about it to others and, besides the usual bruises that covered your body all the time, there were no signs of violence or terror inflicted upon you. Much to their dismay, when you would return to your room, long after sunrise, a smile of satisfaction would always be plastered on your worn out face. You enjoyed whatever was happening to you. And that gave you power.
This is how you ended up being framed. A few servants, both men and women, came up with a false narrative, accusing you of giving yourself to one of the boys working at the kitchen. They had seen you helping him bandage a deep meat knife cut. From that simple gesture to detailed falsehood about sexual activities was only one step. First, they spread it amongst each other and now they went directly to master Sukuna to inform him that his favorite slut was throwing herself at any man.
All you could do was deny. You had been summoned to the main hall and you knew exactly why. It was your word against theirs but, as much time as you spent in Sukuna’s company, you didn’t know if he cared enough to even find the truth. None of his women were allowed to be touched by any other man. There had been multiple instances when the women he forcefully took had lovers or even husbands that they tried to go back to and they all ended up decapitated. You finally reached the end of the corridor, palms sweaty and heart beating relentlessly in your chest.
Pushing the doors open, the first thing you laid your eyes upon was Sukuna, sitting high on his throne, a depraved look glistening in all of his four eyes. On either side of the room stood your accusers, more than you would have imagined. At least half of the servants of the estate were standing humbly, heads kept down, eyes sticking to the floor. Contrary to their form, you could see the looks of pride on some of their faces, while others seemed to doubt the success of their plan. In the middle of the room there was a large futon mat. It was there often times when Sukuna enjoyed having you touch yourself while he instructed your every move as he sat on his throne. You thought you saw the servants take it out last time.
Sukuna didn’t say a word. Only his superior grin could be a hint as to how this charade was going to end, but you never knew what to expect from his eyes clouded with lust when he looked at you. You walked in, not expecting any formal invitation, passing by the group of servants, not bothering to spare them a look. The only important thing was in front of you, sitting at the top of the stairs, sunk back in his throne, legs parted widely, four arms crossed across his chest. You felt like a mouse walking right into a trap.
“I’ve heard some interesting stories from your friends.” His low voice echoed in the room. It seemed as if you were being choked by an invisible hand. “I believe you’re aware of it.”
“They’re all lies, my lord.” You answered, just as you had planned. You had your most beautiful attire on, your most prized golden hairpin he had gifted you. But you didn’t expect he would have the accusers present while he would decide your punishment. Your ears picked up a faint sound of rushed breaths and steps behind you, as one of the women tried to argue with your answer. Sukuna ignored her as well, all his attention on you. “My body and my soul belong to you, master. You can use them however you consider suitable.” In response to your last words he grinned, that wide grin that exposed his teeth, like a predator.
“Come here, slut.” Pressing your lips together in anxiety, you grabbed the sides of your long kimono and pulled it up as you climbed up the steps of his throne.
The servants looked in shock at your body gradually ascending to their master’s place. No one was allowed to even dream to stand as high as him. He had fucked you before on his throne multiple times, especially after fights with jujutsu sorcerers that would wear out his body but make his cocks hard, his skin still stained with the blood of those he had slain. When you reached the last step you dared to look at him. It was one of the few instances when you got to look down at him, as you stood up in front of him while he comfortably sat on his throne. His arms were now resting at his sides, his crimson eyes filled with contained rage. The closer you got to him, the more you could feel the killing intent lingering in the air. He looked at you with indecipherable lust. For sex? For killing? For revenge?
“Show them how you serve your master.” Sukuna’s command had air stuck in your throat and eyes widened in shock.
You expected to be punished, even killed, although you had grown to trust him and feel safe in his presence. But not to have you humiliated in the front of the very people who falsely accused you. Your lips parted in a pathetic attempt to protest. No sound came out. You took a moment, one that would have gotten any other human in your shoes killed in an instant, to look for the reason in his eyes. Have you become arrogant enough to think you knew him that well? The only thing you could see in his wicked gaze was your own reflection, nothing else beyond the crystal clear layer of his four eyes. You obeyed, conscious that you were a moment too late. You ought to be punished for that too. But did it even matter, given your situation?
You kneeled down in front of him, his eyes following your face as it lowered until it was at the same level with his crotch. Your hands effortlessly worked on the knot tied at his waist, undoing it. You heard gasps and murmurs from the people filling the room when your hand reached under the fabric of his clothes, pushing it away and displaying his two throbbing cocks. Most of these people had only heard stories about it. You licked the top one, pressing your tongue flat along its length, while your hands gently stroked the other one, cupping his thick balls full of seed waiting to be released. This was your chance to maintain your status, to remain in his good graces, so you tried to ignore the thought of all those people watching you sucking Sukuna’s cocks. He let you adjust to his size quietly, one hand reaching to take the golden hairpin out of your dark long locks and throwing it away. Your hair fell down over your shoulders and back, thin strands sticking to your face. The metal fell down the stairs with sharp noise that covered the wet sounds of you slurping and licking his cock. The pin fell tapping in the middle of the group of people but none of them dared to move, even though its worth could have easily earned them a new life.
Some of them were looking anywhere else but at your small body compared to his beastly frame, as your head bobbed up and down his length, unable to ignore the sounds. Others, on the contrary, mostly men, were watching fascinated. Sukuna’s upper right hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing it away from your face and you looked up at him when his rough knuckles grazed faintly against your cheek. Your eyes met his only for a fraction of a second before he pushed your head roughly, forcing his cock deeper inside your mouth to touch the back of your throat. He groaned in pleasure, a deep guttural sound coming from deep inside his throat as you choked, tears filling the corners of your eyes.
“Undress.” Sukuna commanded.
You let him fuck your mouth as your hands moved away from his other cock. More than anything, you needed your hold on him for stability. While your body was shaking with every thrust of his cock inside your mouth, his hand a tight grip in your hair keeping your head steady. Your trembling hands moved to weakly remove your obi and push the hems of the kimono away, the soft fabric slipping off your shoulders and falling around you on the floor. You had almost forgot people were watching, but you heart a faint constrained reaction from the crowd as your naked body was revealed. They could only see your back, some of the lucky ones your large breasts from the side as they jiggled in the rhythm of master Sukuna’s movements. Your hands desperately searched to get a hold of his body as soon as you fulfilled his command. One of your hands found his thigh while the other faintly touched his lower cock before he pulled out of your mouth.
You could feel the taste of his precum deep inside your throat. His upper left hand grabbed your jaw harshly. He pulled your face closer to him, forcing you up from the floor. If he wanted to, he could throw you away from up there, and you would land on the other side of the room, skull crushed against the wall. The thought sent terror through your entire body and you began shaking in fear. Instead of this, he held you by the jaw a few inches away from his face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He could see the distress in your eyes and he grinned maniacally. You could feel his hot breath on your face as his cocks rubbed against your chest, between your breasts, while his large lower hands cupped them together, his sharp nails scratching the soft sensitive skin. Eager to satisfy his needs and cling to your pathetic life, you moved your body along his length, creating friction between his cocks and your breasts. Your hands grabbed his forearms for support as you moved and his grip on your jaw softened, allowing you to move up and down as you needed. He cooed in approval against your lips, only for you to hear. A good sign.
“You’re so eager to please.” He said loudly, for everyone to hear. You wanted to play along, let yourself consumed by the humiliation of the servants seeing you being used like a sexual object only for Sukuna’s pleasure. The more time your spent looking in his darkened red eyes, the more you forgot about the people watching. No, that was wrong. You were not forgetting. You were enjoying it.
“Yes ma-“ You noticed his lower eye look to the side full of rage right before the screams of people covered the low sloppy sounds of his cocks fucking your tits.
"Silence." He growled and the commotion stopped, people biting their tongues and looking away from the headless body on the floor, head rolled a few feet away.
Some were sobbing. Others were frozen with terror. The man that just died in an instant was about to touch himself, turned on by the sight of you. No one was allowed to take pleasure in what belonged to Sukuna. You felt his cocks throbbing even more aroused between your breasts and you knew it wasn't just the warm and soft feeling of your body that got him that hard.
Violence turns him on.
Sukuna pushed you by the head, forcing you to take one of his cocks in your mouth again. This time he was aiming to cum, as both his upper hands were holding your head in place, with each movement the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he groaned like a beast. Your hands grabbed his thighs, nails digging into his skin as you took his entire length in and out of your mouth, your tongue running along the veins of his cock. You took a chance to look up at him, knowing he enjoyed the sight of your face while he fucked it relentlessly, teary eyes and brows furrowed upwards in a helpless expression. Instead, you saw his head thrown back in pleasure, mouth slightly open to let out ungodly sounds. Tears fell down your cheeks but you enjoyed the sound of his grunts, and you joined him with moans that reverberated around his girth. He came in no time, one cock inside your mouth the other on your chest. You swallowed all that he gave to you as the tip of his cock softly rubbed against your lips, the last drops of his milky seed dripping at the edges of your mouth.
“Thank you, my lord.” You moaned, grateful, looking up at him through your lashes, waiting anxiously for his next move.
You heard several overlapping sounds of meat slashing, blood spilling and bodies falling on the floor. Sukuna was taking his time effortlessly killing every single man whose dick got unbearably hard because of you, one by one. You were still with your back turned to the crowd so you could only imagine the number of butchered people and the terrified sight of the ones still left alive.
Sukuna let his robe fall off his shoulders on the throne as he leaned down to grab you by the waist, pulling you up over his large shoulder as he descended the stairs. You let your small body relax, hanging over his muscular one, your soft belly pressed against his shoulder. One hand held you firmly by the waist while the other had both your ankles in a lose grip, holding you in place as he walked down the stairs. He was completely naked as were you. Your feet dangled against his abdomen, your ass and leaking cunt exposed. You didn’t even realize you had gotten so wet until the cool air hit your folds. He could feel your juices on his chest as your thighs rubbed together against his skin and he grinned to himself. He hadn’t even done anything to you yet.
With his every step, you could see more and more of the people filling the room. It was a horrifying sight. Blood was pooling on the floor, people were trying to avoid looking at the dead bodies while also avoiding looking at their master, looking at you, at the same time. It was impossible. Your accusers, who were so certain they would get rid of you, were dying one by one.
Sukuna let you fall off his shoulder on the mattress in the middle of the room. So he had it prepared for this, you thought. Suddenly, as you were laying on your back while he stood up next to you, waiting, you became extremely aware of all the eyes looking at your naked body. Up on the throne you felt safer, above everyone else. Who cared if they were watching you choke on their master’s cocks? But down here, with all these people, blood and killing surrounding you, a spark of fright erupted in your mind. What if master Sukuna was going to leave you here? Wasn’t this the most sadistic end you could meet? He got the servants tormented by the deaths of their own, all because of you, and now he was going to let them get their revenge. They would tear you to pieces. You desperately tried to hide your large breasts with your arms, pressing your legs together as if he didn’t parade around with you and your soaking cunt over his shoulder moments ago. You looked up at him with wide doubtful eyes. When did you become so uneasy in his presence?
“You really don’t get it, do you?” You didn’t know at whom this question was directed. His voice was coated with a thick sense of dominance.
In the following seconds, you saw three people falling to the ground, blood spilling out of their bodies. Sukuna kneeled down next to you, grabbing you by the ankles and raising your legs up in the air. The back of your thighs pressed against his abdomen where his tongue rolled out and licked the soft skin. You whimpered, feeling the burning sensation in your lower body that meant one thing you knew very well. Your cunt needed him. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his neck, the feeling of his soft pink hair on your skin making your shiver. You tried pulling him closer to you, but he only watched, amused. You were struggling to have his body closer to yours, get him to penetrate you already. His lower arms pinned your legs in place while another hand lightly slapped you across the face.
“Beg.”
You had never quite felt the need for him to own you like you did right now. You were desperately clinging to him, ever fiber in your being telling you that the only way you could be safe, the only place you belonged to was in his possession.
“Please master.” You whined, without any second thought.
Somehow, only unconsciously, you knew that the reason he took a liking to you was that you weren’t afraid of him. Not once before this day did you doubt your master. The fact that you found him ravishing, the fact that you carnally wanted him so bad out of your own accord, it was something he never expected but got addicted to. Sure, taking whatever he wanted whenever he wanted gave him a sort of high only power could attain. But to feel needed, to feel wanted like you wanted him, to have you suck on his cocks so eagerly, beg for him to fuck you like an animal, cry out in pleasure because of his touch, Sukuna would never give up on these things.
“Please, punish me like I deserve.”
You gasped out of air when you felt his lower cock easily sink deep into your moist pussy, while his top cock rubbed against your folds. The feeling of your warm walls clenching around his girth sent a wave of indescribable pleasure through him, a pleasure that only made him eager to chase even more. His movements picked up a fast paced rhythm from the start, balls slamming against your ass with every slap of his hips against yours. He had his upper arms around your legs, keeping them up on one of his shoulders, while his other rough large hands were grabbing your breasts, kneading, playing with your nipples. You began moaning uncontrollably, the mixed sensation of the cock inside your cunt and the stimulation of the cock rubbing against your folds and over your clit with each thrust sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through your body. Your fists were grabbing the mattress tightly, your body hot and sweaty.
Through half open eyes you could see the golden hairpin on the floor and a woman trying to walk and pick it up. Fool. She really thought Sukuna wouldn’t see her, too drunk on your body to pay attention to his surroundings anymore. You could understand, though. Any man fucking with such violence and focus like he was thrusting inside of you was sure to lose all his other senses. But Sukuna wasn’t just a man. He was your god. Part of you wanted to warn her, tell her not to test her luck. Her head was sliced off her neck right when she was ready to reach out and grab the hairpin.
Your eyes were already tightly shut when that happened, the feeling of Sukuna’s cock throbbing inside you ready to release having your walls clench around him and your whines louder, more desperate as you approached your orgasm as well. He pushed your legs open, leaning over you, reaching deeper and deeper into your sensitive hole. You felt the wet tongue on his abdomen again, licking the sweat off your tummy, circling around your navel. The strain on your thighs was getting more and more painful the more he pushed his heavy body against yours.
“I would massacre the whole country for you.” He grunted against your lips.
His name reverberated in the room when you screamed it as your orgasm washed over you. His cum filled your hole, his sticky seed overflowing and dripping along your thighs and your ass. His other cock released his seed on your belly. Your fucked out face was the most beautiful thing Sukuna had ever witnessed in his life. All hot and sweaty, hair a mess around you like a halo, biting your lips, your eyes closed your eyebrows furrowed as if you still felt him inside you. The sight of your body covered in his seed, marking you as his and his only. It only made him want to ruin you even more. You opened your eyes lazily, your chest rising and falling with big movements as you sucked air inside your lungs.
You saw his eyes already fixed on you. Around the room was only death and blood and despair, while Sukuna sat down calmly, eyes fixed on you. You lost count of how many people were dead and how many were still watching. He didn’t call out for you, didn’t gesture in any way, but his eyes were imperative, commanding you without any effort. You forced your body up, supporting your weight on your arms. You crawled to him slowly, already feeling a mellow pain between your legs that would sure hurt a lot more the next day. He welcomed you at his side, a hand placed between your shoulder blades gently pushing you over his lap. You laid on your belly obediently over his strong thighs. His fingers ghosted over the line of your spine passing over the round curve of your ass.
His right hand was still aimlessly feeling the smoothness of your skin when his other right palm landed in a harsh slap over you other cheek. You cried out in pain, right before you felt two fingers of his left hand savagely pushed inside your mouth. You sucked on his fingers as he landed the second, then the third slap, the muffled sounds of your whines echoing from your throat. He spanked you again, in the same spot, and your eyes filled with tears at the growingly stinging sensation. Sukuna was consumed by your touch, by your scent. He loved how easily you got wet because of him. He could smell it before you were even aware of it. When he pulled you up from the floor, carrying you on his shoulder, your cunt was so close to his face, so obviously releasing that delicious scent of your leaking arousal that had his mouth water. Now he had you sprawled on his lap, the need to consume you insatiable. The urge to abuse your body until you were a trembling mess, unable to control it anymore. He leaned over just when you were expecting another painful slap and he sank his teeth into the plump flesh of your ass. He was careful enough not to seriously hurt you, but impatient to feel you in every way, leave his mark wherever he could. You cried out, drool falling at the corners of your mouth around his fingers. He pulled his teeth away and licked the round red mark left on your skin, making you shiver.
Another slap landed on your other ass cheek and he grabbed a fistful of your hair with his free left hand, forcing your body to arch painfully much. He leaned his face closer to yours, fingers still in your mouth. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, his deep red eyes swallowing you whole.
“Who do you belong to, slut?” When you tried to answer you choked on his fingers, unable to articulate any word.
He slapped you again, his other hand squeezing between your thighs. He could feel your juices mixed with his cum drip over his thigh. Sukuna knew slapping your ass was guaranteed to have your cunt drenched. He wouldn’t repeat himself. You squeezed your eyes shut when his large hand landed another slap, his fingers slightly pulling away from your mouth, allowing you to speak.
“I belong to you, master.” His fingers fell from your lips down your jaw to have your neck in a tight grip, choking you and forcing you to look at him.
“Then you can take your master’s cocks at the same time, can’t you?”
“Yes, master.” You replied weakly. He slapped your face, demanding a better, more convincing answer. “Please, master. I need both your cocks inside me.”
Sukuna seemed pleased with your answer, grinning at your deplorable state. You pushed your muscles to stand but he quickly and easily handled your body, using you as he pleased. He had you on all fours, your face sunk in the mattress soaked with your sweat. He ran his palm along your pussy, feeling his fingers slip, drenched in your arousal, as his lower arms had your hips pinned exactly where he needed you. You cried out in pain, feeling both his cocks stretching your walls. He was massive anyway, and now you had to take double the size. As dripping wet as you were, you still whined in discomfort when he forced himself into you. The mattress was wet with your tears and the room filled with your cries of pain that gradually turned into moans as you adjusted around him and pleasure overcame the pain. He slammed his hips violently against your ass, pulling you into him, his nails digging in your skin. One of his hands was on your head, pushing it further, keeping you in place as if you were a doll specifically made to fulfill his needs.
The beastly sounds he let out seemed to come from deeper inside his being, so savage and violent that seemed he was going to break you in half. You were too fucked out to pick up the sounds around you anymore, only his animalistic groans as he hit your insides, covering your moans and whimpers. You only felt a faint splash of hot thick liquid falling at your sides and the smell of fresh blood mixing with the smell of sex. You didn’t open your eyes until you were out of the room, not even when Sukuna came again inside you, his cum not fitting inside your pussy anymore, leaking out, spilling on the mattress and on your ass. Your body fell limp, exhausted and dirty, as soon as he let you out of his grip. The room grew silent like a grave, only Sukuna’s panting triumphantly overcoming everything.
You felt him pick you up in his arms and carry you in the other room, where two frightened servant girls wiped your body clean of the cum, sweat and blood. You moaned in pain when the wet cloth grazed against parts of your body that were already turning purple. Your body was starting to feel cold.
The feeling of being submerged in warm water was the most comforting thing. That is until you felt Sukuna’s large frame behind you, your back resting against his chest, his hands gently pouring water over your shoulders. You sank into his embrace, flesh melting on your bones. His lips hovered above yours, as if testing to see if you were awake. Or if you would allow it? You pressed your lips against his weakly, and he kissed you gently, almost surprised that he was capable of such a soft touch. You opened your eyes languidly, the first thing you saw being the half opened door that lead to the room where a few servants were already cleaning up the blood and bodies. As if you had only dreamed about it, you blinked several times. Sukuna had killed all the people that accused you.
“So, did you?” Sukuna’s husky voice gently purred in your ear.
“Hm?” You asked, eyes still on the other room, as if you didn’t hear.
“Did you fuck the servant from the kitchen?” He asked calmly, almost unbothered, as if he didn’t kill so many people because of it. Your back straightened and your head turned to him, finding the last bit of strength in indignation.
“Of course not!” He grinned at your fervor. “Did you… ever consider it to be true?”
“I don’t need unthankful servants to tell me. I would smell it on you.” There was a hint of threat in his voice, like warning you not to ever do something you would regret. When you looked at him questioningly, he pulled you closer, pushing your back against him, his cheek touching your soft hair. His hand cupped one of your breasts as he spoke, squeezing it, running his fingers over your warm skin. “If you’re afraid, if you’re sad, if you’re angry, if you’re horny. I can smell it on you.” His other hand ran down on your body, fingers resting just above your pussy. “Now imagine if someone else touches you. You would reek of dirty human.” You were sore already, drained. But you didn’t fight his touch, you didn’t try to stop him.
“I am a human too, master Sukuna.” You said and your breath hitched when you felt his fingers lightly rub circles around your clit.
“No.” He argued, your heavy breaths filling the room. He knew you didn’t get the chance to cum the last time. “You are my queen.”
With your eyes closed your hands searched for his. He took your hands in each of his, resting at the edge of the tub, intertwining your fingers together. Your soft whimpers echoed according to the motion of his fingers and he kissed your hair, encouraging you through your orgasm.
The water was starting to get cold. You were resting there in silence, your mind rewinding everything that happened. Sukuna said he could smell fear. Did he smell the fear on you when you first walked in? When you thought he was going to kill you? When you feared he was going to leave you at the hands of his servants? Instead, he called you his queen.
“There’s… someone.” You said instead, not daring to ask these questions. The silhouette of a man standing still in the hall was visible through the half open door.
“Oh? Yeah, it’s the boy from the kitchen. I haven't decided what to do with him yet.” Sukuna replied. “He’s the only one who defended you. But then again, what could he say? Defending you means defending himself.”
“Someone needs to live to tell the tale.” You mumbled. He cocked his head to the side, encouraging you to continue. “I would free him from your service. Give him some money. He will surely spread the tale of the ruthless Ryomen Sukuna.” He didn't reply. You doubted he was going to listen to your suggestion. 
That night was the first time you went to sleep by his side. Usually you would pick up the moment after he was satisfied enough with your presence and retreated. He never commanded you to leave but never signaled he wanted you to stay, either. This time he carried you in his arms to your new room. You were probably not able to walk on your own anyway. He was going to have you moved away from the servants, closer to his chambers, he explained when he slided the door open. He laid you down on the freshly clean mattress before you felt his large frame next to you. You quickly scooped closer, with much effort since all the muscles in your body felt sore. With your head on his chest, one arm over his wide muscular torso, you fell asleep faster than ever, fatigue winning over your body. The last thing you remembered was the feeling of his fingers in your hair, while his lower hand was softly laying on your hip. You've never felt so relaxed before.
When you woke up, the painful sensation between your legs hit your brain before you were even able to open your eyes. Sukuna was nowhere to be seen. You didn't even feel him leaving your side, fallen deep in your undisturbed sleep. Next to the mattress, on a small low table, a covered tray was waiting for you to wake up. On a small note, written by hand, a message greeted you.
Regain your strength soon, my queen
next 》》 Eraser |
Ryomen Sukuna x reader
Tumblr media
643 notes · View notes
gotoemopunk · 1 month
Text
Don't give the phone to an absent-minded wizard who can barely think when his loved one is around. This will lead to disaster!
Tumblr media
Text:
Harry: *goes live, messes with the camera, says something, points the camera at Draco*
- We're finally going on a date and you're here reading...
Replies:
Pansy: ????
Blaise: Congrats. Finally.
Pansy: You're dating?????
Ron: Harry, you're live.....
Hermione: What book is he reading?
Pansy: DRACO WHY HAVEN'T YOU TOLD ME
Ron: Mum called me because Bill called her and asked if it's true. Harry what have you done...
Luna: Oh, this is simply splendid, Harry. Your wrackspurts are a perfect match.
Dumbledore's ghost: Harry, what wonderful news! I'll drink my favorite tea and candy to celebrate. Always happy to have you as my guests.
Pansy: Dumby's here???
Pansy: Sorry, professor, I didn't mean you.
Blaise: Lol.
Seamus: WHAT'S HAPPENNING IN HERE
Ron: Harry confused a story with a live broadcast...
Pansy: Harry came out of the closet.
Seamus: Closet? They seem to be outdoors. Are you talking about the clothes?
Pansy: Nevermind.
Snape's ghost: Unfathomable.
___
(Aaaand i know you want this one)
Tumblr media
Oh, and I have no idea how to work the broadcast, so sorry if it doesn't look believable enough
479 notes · View notes
thekitsunesiren · 3 months
Text
Dc x Dp #43
(Here's my spin on the existing in another universe as a cartoon plot)
Danny stared at Clockwork with wide eyes as the ancient ghost told him the truth about the universe he had just visited.
He thought that it would've been another alternate universe that had a Dan that he needed to fight and stop from coming to his. But no. No, instead he landed into a universe of his favorite comic book series. DC Comics.
When he came through the portal, he instantly recognized the city that was known as Gotham and its dreary atmosphere that he's only seen in the various comics he kept on his bedroom shelf.
At first, he was excited. DC was real. That means that Batman and the Robins were real. Gasp. He could meet Martian Manhunter.
His fanboying was cut short when the sound of a grappling hook and light footsteps reached his ears caused him to look down and see who it was.
Batman. In the flesh, covered by his long cape and the darkness of the city around him. Honest to Ancients it was Batman! And Nightwing was there as well! Danny was going to die again!
Danny hesitated on approaching as he didn't know how they would react to him being in Gotham all of a sudden. Honestly, other than Deadman, Danny didn't know about anymore ghosts in DC.
What he didn't expect was for Nightwing-Nightwing!-to point to him and mention how he had a good Danny Phantom cosplay? Does that mean he was a hero in the DC world too and that he had fans? Awesome!
He didn't have time to question it as another portal opened and Danny was quick to take it, not wanting to be attacked by his favorite characters.
He definitely had to tell Clockwork about this.
-
"What do you mean I'm a cartoon in other universes?" The halfa asked the ancient of time, feeling as if his entire world was being flipped upside down for Ancient's know how many times already.
Clockwork gave the same smile that showed he knew something that he didn't. An expression that Danny knew all too well.
"Did you truly think that your universe was the only one out there, Daniel? There are
"But all you talk about are timelines
"There are many universes out there, Daniel. All of them have their own stories, their own people, and their own endings that they shall meet when the time is right. But, even then, other universes can exist in them as well. They are simply not physical."
Danny tilted his head at the last part, eye brows furrowing in confusion.
"Physical?" He repeated.
Clockwork nodded. His form shifting from his young looking self to that of his older version with the elongated beard.
"Physical, Daniel. Like how their universe, DC as you call it, your or a version of your universe exist in theirs as a cartoon. Many universes when clashed are too powerful for one universe to handle on their own if they were real, so they exist in forms of novels, shows, movies, even comic books, to allow their existence to prosper. They will be able to exist peacefully without causing any true harm to the universe and causing mass disasters that would happen if they existed on the same plane."
As he listened, his eyes widened in awe. Multiple universes that existed like that. That means there has to be a chance where there was a him that actually existed in the DC world other than being a cartoon.
While lost in thought, his eyes suddenly widened as a thought occurred to him. "Wait! If I'm a cartoon in their world that means that they just need to watch the show and find out all about me. My weaknesses, my past, the ghost zone, everything!" And boy, wasn't that a thought. He didn't want the Batfamily looking up his show and discovering how to beat him. Worse, how he died.
Clockwork simply raised a hand to stop his worrying tirade.
"Peace, Daniel. While your life may be a cartoon, it isn't all there. I've seen small glimpses, and it doesn't compare to your life. Various relationships, parts of your life, your powers, all of it could be underplayed or over exaggerated. While some could be true, they would still have to nitpick through it to find out the bits that are. Just like you would have to with those comic books to determine how much is real and fiction as well."
Hearing that, Danny did calm down some. Placing a hand on his chest with a sigh of relief.
"That is good then. i thought I was gonna die a second time."
The halfa floated closer to Clockwork as his old form turned back to his adult form, red eyes watching the young ghost as
"Though there's one more thing I gotta ask, Clockwork?"
"Yes, Daniel?"
"How many seasons did my show get?"
679 notes · View notes
ballroamblitz · 9 months
Text
caramel pie | J.P
summary: james smells caramel pie on the amortentia potion
james potter x fem!reader
word count: 3.750 content: teeth rotting fluff, angst warnings: crying, reader blushes notes: one thing about me is i love me some amortentia fic with a side of james fluff ughh also i listened to glue song by beabadoobee while writing this :) p.s i accidentally posted this on my side acc so if anyone wanna be mutuals my main blog is @beastofbrden :)
Tumblr media
- Someone please, kindly remind me why I decided that continuing Herbology after the O.W.Ls was a good idea? - Y/N huffed out, sitting at the Gryffindor table for lunch.
The four boys sitting around her laughed. 
- Learned a lot today, uh? - Sirius asked, ironically. 
- Oh yeah, loads! We had to feed toad flesh to those terrible toad-eating plants. For some reason, mine just didn't feel like eating it without regurgitating it all back on me! 
The boys went hysterics, and even the girl couldn't help but laugh along. 
- There's still a little piece there - James pointed. - Here, let me take it out for you.
He took out a small chunk of toad flesh off her hair. 
- Well, may I remind you, Y/N, that no one told you to keep up with Herbology. We all dipped from it while we could and no one else has pieces of toad on our hair - Sirius noted, clearly getting a good laugh out of the girl's toad disaster.
- I just didn't want to hurt Sprout's feelings! 
She sighed and brushed her hair with her fingers, only then looking at the food in front of her.
- Merlin, I'm starving! Could eat anything right now.
- Even toad? - Remus joked, sending the group on another laughing crisis.
By the time of dessert, Y/N started scanning the table for something. Clearly not finding it, her panic started showing. 
- Oh no. Where's the caramel pie? 
- They didn't serve any today - James replied, needing all the strength on his body to stay deadpanned. The other three boys were deep in conversation, and him being the one sitting closer to Y/N (as always) only he noticed the girl's agitation. 
- What??? What do you mean they didn't serve any? In the six years I've been here they never not served it and I can't believe they chose today to…
- I'm just joking - James pulled a plate that was hidden behind the steak pudding, smiling playfully at the girl - Saved it for ya.
- James! I would go mad if they stopped serving this pie, y'know! - she let out a relieved breath. 
- Nah, don't worry. They will keep serving it, or I would fight the elfs for ya. 
- One day I’ll hide your figgy pudding, then we’ll see.
- You wouldn’t dare, missy.
James watched with a soft look on his eyes as the girl took the first bite of her favorite dessert.
- Thank you for saving me a piece, Jamie - she leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment to show gratitude. When she got closer, he smelled the vanilla scent of her hair and the caramel pie on her lips.
Tumblr media
After lunch, the five went straight to Slughorn's classroom. 
- Good evening, dears, good evening! Now if you could get up and get closer, I want to show you something!
The whole class shifted near the table Slughorn was sitting behind. 
- Here, we have a very special potion. - He pointed towards a bubbling caldron full of a crystal clear liquid - Very tricky to make, very characteristic and perhaps one of the most dangerous we can brew. Can anyone tell me it's name?
Y/N's hand rose in the air.
- Yes, ms. Y/L/N. 
- It's Amortentia, or simply the love potion. Since true love can't really be produced by any sort of magic, it causes more of a crush or an obsession. 
- Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor! - Slughorn smiled.
- Nerd - James whispered,  messing up Y/N’s hair.
- Sod off, Potter.
- You see, one of the most intriguing things about Amortentia is its scent. Everyone smells something different, because its scent is completely dependent on what each person feels personally attracted to. Now, who wants to come forward and tell me what it smells like? 
No one volunteered. No wonder, since it's a very particular thing to simply say in front of a whole classroom.
- No one? I'll pick someone then. Let me think... - Slughorn scanned the faces around. - Ah! Mr. Potter, you will do. 
James was caught by surprise. He had been distracted by the warmth radiating off Y/N, that was almost resting her head on his chest. 
- Me? - he asked and pointed towards himself.
- Of course you! Is there any other Mr. Potter?
The whole class laughed as James stepped closer, his signature boyish grin splashed on his face. 
- Now Mr. Potter, lean in and smell the potion.
James ran his hands through his hair and did as told. One single sniff and his smile fell off his face completely. The scent was unmistakable: vanilla and caramel pie. Vanilla body cream, caramel pie for dessert, everyday. He had the urge to see if Y/N wasn't standing next to him, but he knew she hadn't moved from across the table. He knew he had to lie. If he said what it smelled like to him, everyone would know it was Y/N's smell.  
- So, Mr. Potter. Whenever you are ready to share. 
He looked at where Y/N was. She was looking at him, just as well as everyone else. She looked relaxed, the potion's glow making her look specially pretty, angel-like. Think of something, fast. Something not at all related to what you are really smelling, something like...
- It’s wood and broomstick polisher.
- Very well then Mr. Potter. Looks like you've got a thing for Quidditch, uh?
The class laughed, and everyone looked convinced. James Potter, Quidditch captain, smelling broomstick polisher and wood? Fitting. James high-fived himself for his quick thinking, and let out a relieved sight. Now, no one would go around thinking the wrong things. 
Tumblr media
Later that night, in the common room, however, the potions class was almost burning a hole through James' head. Slughorn said Amortentia smelled of what attracted each person the most.  Attraction was romantic, sexual attraction. But Slughorn had been pretty vague, hadn't he? He could've meant attraction in any context. It could mean anything. It could mean platonic love, right? If Slughorn didn't think much of James smelling Quidditch, it probably meant it could smell of anything the person liked a lot, right? But it was a love potion. That caused passion. And Slughorn said he had a thing for Quidditch. A thing. But he didn't have a thing for Y/N! He loved her, of course. Everyone knew she was his best friend, they did everything together and she was probably his favorite person in the world. Yeah, maybe he went to extreme lengths to see her happy, and yeah, maybe he was a bit too affectionate with her, but she was his best friend.
- Can't do homework anymore. - James was ripped off his thoughts by Y/N's presence. She threw her backpack at the ground in front of the sofa he was in and layed down - My brain feels like mush.
James looked at her. Her head was resting on his lap, and she looked extremely comfortable. That was obvious, since they always had been this affectionate towards each other. They both were very touchy people, and it felt natural to be in constant physical contact. James was always happy, eager even, to be like this with her. In a platonic way. Obviously. Today, however, her skin on his felt like it burned. 
- How was it? - James asked, coughing to conceal the way his voice failed a bit in the first word.
- Homework? Awful. It's not that difficult, but it's too much. And it just seems pointless, you know? What will I actually learn from writing 19 inches about toad eating plants? Nothing, I tell you what! - The girl sighed and closed her eyes again - Just wanna go to sleep, really.
He didn't know what to answer. He normally would have made a joke about the plants, added more criticism about essays or something. But he didn’t even do his homework, with how paranoid he was. For the first time ever, he was completely speechless in her presence. Her eyelashes were resting peacefully on her pink cheeks. The light from the fireplace made her skin look more flushed, and her hair had a golden glow to it. She looked awfully pretty. James knew that, of course. She had always been pretty. But tonight.. when she moved her head a little bit, he smelled the amortentia smell. Vanilla and caramel pie, just as strong as it was that afternoon. 
- You are way too quiet today, Jamie. - She opened her eyes and he felt something weird in the pit of his stomach  - Ate too much pudding? 
- Yeah, probably. 
She stretched and yawned, sending another wave of vanilla and caramel pie to James' nostrils. 
- Going to bed - she got up. Her hair was messy and the light from the fireplace behind her looked like a halo. - Night, Jamie.
She lowered herself and pecked his cheek lightly. 
- Sleep well - her soft voice was way too close to his ear, turning James' legs into jelly. 
He watched her going up the stairs to the dormitory, and the place she had kissed burned long after she was gone. 
Tumblr media
He had no reason to be this nervous for the potions class the next morning. Slughorn had already moved on from amortentia, since it was a difficult, dangerous and time-consuming potion to make, but James was half hoping the potion would be brought up again, and half hoping everyone would collectively forget about it completely. Slughorn didn't mention the potion again, moving on directly to Felix Felicis. He watched the whole class on the edge of his seat. He had decided he would ask the teacher about the potion just to calm himself down. Just to make sure. Everyone had been really concentrating on making the best draught of living death the whole period, but James just wanted the class to end so he could ask Slughorn and stop eating himself alive.  
- Alright, alright. Congratulations mr. Snape on your draught. Truly outstanding! - Slughorn said, raising a round of applause - Class dismissed!
Everyone started to gather their backpacks and leave, but James made sure to stay back. He pretended to be very interested in a weird type of algae that Slughorn kept in a little ampoule. Just a few more moments and then he'll say that no, I don't have romantic feelings for Y/N and that i just really like caramel pie or something, and then i'll stop going mental... 
- Gillyweed. - Slughorn’s voice dragged James off of his daydreams 
- Uh? - James frowned in confusion, wondering what the teacher was talking about.
- The algae you're looking at, Mr. Potter. Gillyweed. Helps the person breathe underwater. 
- Oh, yeah, right. Professor Slughorn, I was wondering if I could ask you something.
- Sure, my boy, ask away - Slughorn encouraged while distractingly stacking some parchments.
- I was wondering… about the Amortentia potion.
Slughorn stopped his movements and lifted his eyes directly to James. 
- Oh, I see - He looked very amused, for some reason. - What were you wondering?
- Let's just say a friend of mine smells it and it reminds him of someone. It could smell like someone he just truly cares about, couldn't it? Like, it doesn't necessarily mean he's in love with the person that the scent reminds him of, right? 
Slughorn's lopsided smile grew bigger.
- I'm afraid, no, my boy. 
- What? - James felt like the classroom got three times smaller and hotter by the minute - But I smelled wood and polishing oil, and I'm not in love with a broom, am i? 
- Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter... - Slughorn chuckled. - I think we both know you didn't smell any of that. 
James felt his face getting warm and red. 
- But, if you did, that would mean you have a crush on a Quidditch player, let's just put it like that. Amortentia is a very strong love potion, and we can only smell things in it that romantically attract us very deeply. Those of us that aren't in love with anyone would smell something quite abstract. But if this friend of yours smelled amortentia and recognized the scent as someone's, then boy do I have news for him. Does this answer your question? 
      - Hm, yeah, sure. - James agreed. He felt like he was gonna fall down from the absurd speed at which his mind was racing. - Thank you, Professor.
- Anytime. - James began to leave, completely out of it. - Oh, and Mr. Potter?
- Yes? - James turned around, hopeful that Slughorn would start laughing and admit he was joking.
- Tell your friend I wish him the best of luck with this new, blossoming love. 
As James went out of the classroom and up into the common room, he deeply regretted not stealing that ampoule of gillyweed and swallowing it whole. That way, he could spend the rest of his days in the black lake with the merpeople. I bet amortentia wouldn't smell like anything down there, he thought. 
Tumblr media
For the rest of the week, James spent every waking hour trying to not think about what Slughorn said and what it meant, and he was succeeding. He kept himself busy with classes, Quidditch and even homework. He also did his absolute best to avoid everyone. He ate before anyone else and made sure he was far away from the great hall by the time he knew Y/N and the rest of the Marauders would go down to eat. In classes, he sat very distant and left early. He even pulled some pranks he didn't even feel like pulling on Filch to get detention in the nights he couldn't schedule Quidditch practices. He walked the halls in the invisibility cloak. Anything to keep his thoughts away from the big fire alarm going off inside his head. The only problem was that he missed Y/N in all of those moments. When he was doing homework, he missed the sound of Y/N's pen scratching the parchment next to him. While he ate, he missed the warmth of her body next to his, the satisfaction humming while she ate her pie . He missed laying down together after homework. He missed seeing her on the stands at practice. He even realized that the real fun in pranks wasn't the actual thing, but to see Y/N laughing hysterically afterwards. To put it quite simply, it felt like he was sleep walking all the time. He couldn’t go on avoiding her forever, but what he was gonna do, he had positively no idea.
Until Friday night.
It was late, and he had been in detention. Filch had made him write “I shall not turn the school’s trophies into pigeons” a hundred times, and his hand was hurting from all the repetitive writing. Normally, he would have complained, but this time, he was glad for the distraction. Enjoying detention, he thought bitterly while crossing the fat lady, I must be really going mad. His grouchy thoughts were interrupted by a sound. It sounded like.. crying. Or better yet, it sounded like someone was sobbing their heart out. He looked around the empty common room, but didn’t see anyone. He followed the sound to the sofa near the fireplace, where he and Y/N always rest after studying. Before you turned into a chicken. 
Y/N was laid on the sofa, her face buried in a cushion, her whole body shaking with her sobs. James was flooded with panic.
- Y/N, baby, what happened? - he cooed, his voice altered with anxiety. Y/N never cried, except when something very serious happened.
Y/N looked up like she thought she was seeing visions. 
- Jamie? - her voice was soft and shaky, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot red, like she had been crying for multiple hours. The hurt on her eyes broke James’ heart in a thousand pieces. 
His mind raced with possibilities: maybe someone was mean to her? Maybe someone died? Maybe she was hurt? The thought of her being in pain panicked him even further. He sat down and pushed her into his lap, laying her head on his shoulder. 
- Are you hurt, baby? Where does it hurt? Please, tell me. 
She cried violently on his shoulder. He inspected her legs for bruises, but she seemed well physically. 
- Y/N, tell me what’s wrong, I can’t stand to see you like this - he begged. -  Did someone hurt you?
The question seemed to trigger something on the girl, because suddenly she was on her feet, out of his arms. 
- Did someone hurt me? Seriously? - the tears streamed down her face, but her eyes glimmered with something new: anger.
James was confused, to say the least. He noticed that she was wearing one of his old sweaters, one that had vanished from his suitcase a few weeks ago. 
- Baby...- he begged some more.
She looked as if he had twisted a knife on her wound.
- Don’t you dare “baby” me, James. Not after ignoring me like the plague for a whole week! 
Oh. Oh. James had been so involved with his own confusion regarding the amortentia incident that he forgot almost completely that Y/N didn’t know what he was doing, or why. She was crying because he hurt her feelings. That was a lot worse than if she was crying because of another person: he could’ve gone out to kick said jerk’s ass. But if he hurt her, what was he supposed to do? Punch himself? 
-Y/N - he cooed, apologetically. - Y/N, I…
She showed him her palm, urging him to stop talking.
- You don’t have to explain wanting to be away from me. I’m sure you had your reasons. But you could have at least told me that you wanted some space from me, or something, because I’ve been miserable, and…
She thought he wanted space from her. The sorrowful shaky breath that escaped her lips mid-sentence threw him over the edge. 
- No, no, no… - he repeated while pushing her back into his lap - Oh my god, Y/N, no…
He caressed her hair while she sobbed violently on his shoulder. Her fists were closed tightly on his shirt, her tears dampened his neck, and he couldn’t recall the last time his heart ached this badly.
- Did I do something? Did I bother you? I’m so sorry.. - she whispered softly, like she was voicing what had been repeating in her head over and over again during the last few days. Her words were laced with anger, resentment, but, above all, hurt. He wanted to double over in pain.
- Listen - James lifted her chin up gently, forcing her to look into his eyes. - I’m the one who’s sorry. 
The tears kept coming, but she was listening.
- I shouldn’t have avoided you last week, and it’s not your fault, okay? It’s my fault. I’m the one who got scared. 
She looked confused.
- Scared? Of me? 
James would have to confess what happened at Slughorn’s class. He had given zero thought about his messy feelings, and even though unraveling them in front of Y/N scared him endlessly, he would have to do it, because he could never let her think that he wanted space from her. That he wanted anything but to be close to her, at all times, if he could. 
- Please - she asked, incisively, noticing his wariness. - Tell me.
He took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable, raw. As if he would undress himself fully in front of her.
- Remember Slughorn’s class about amortentia? - Y/N nodded, encouraging him to move on - He asked me to smell it, right, and I…
- You said it smelled like broom polisher. 
- Well, yes. But I lied. - he decided to avert his gaze to the ceiling, or else he would never talk. - It was caramel pie and vanilla cream. So, I smelled… you.
Silence. A moment, two. He couldn’t muster the courage to look at the girl. He felt her hand grazing his cheek, urging him to look at her.. 
- Jamie… - She looked wonderstruck, and his heart seemed like it wanted out of his chest - Really?
- Really.
James was sure he’d never seen something as beautiful as Y/N after his response. She was smiling the biggest, most shiny smile he had ever seen on her face. Her eyes shined like gemstones at him, so soft he wanted to cry.
- Do you want to know what I smelled? - she asked, soft as a feather. 
His heart somersaulted when she brought her face closer to the side of his neck. She whispered on his ear:
- I smelled… - She sniffed his neck once - Sandalwood - another sniff, followed by a chuckle  - Broomstick polisher…
She distanced herself, looking deep into his eyes.
- And homework parchment. And fireplace naps. And figgy pudding.
His heart was hammering against his ribcage. Y/N smelled him. On the amortentia potion. Him.
- Y/N - James whispered, all warm and fuzzy on the inside. - Really?
She didn’t answer, just grabbed his hand, the warmth and softness of her skin overwhelming his senses. Placed his hand on top of the point of her chest where her heart was. Through the fabric of his shirt, he could feel her heart beating faster than a hummingbird's. She never unglued her soft eyes from his. 
She likes him. Suddenly, all the thoughts he had been avoiding throughout the week came crashing down on him, like a dam.
James was an affectionate friend. He liked physical touch. But he never liked it half as much as he did with her. James was a thoughtful friend. He remembered things about his friends. But he remembered every single thing about her. He was a sensitive friend. He hated to see his friends suffering. But every time he saw her cry, it was like his heart was being crushed. James was an attentive friend. He loved spending time with friends. But when he was away from her, he couldn’t even function properly, like he was missing one half of him. Y/N is his best friend. But she is more, too. He loves her. But there’s something else: he is in love.  Amortentia never lies, after all.
When his hands tangled on Y/N’s hair, he smelled vanilla cream. When he kissed Y/N’s lips, he tasted caramel pie.
1K notes · View notes
shadesoflsk · 5 months
Text
BLANCA NAVIDAD
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: leon kennedy x fem reader.
summary: Leon never liked Christmas. Memories of him being taken away from his parents and countless missions made him a bitter man. However, he wouldn't have guessed that one day, he would be placing Christmas stockings with a wife and a little bundle of joy next to him.
warnings: Mostly fluff, dad leon, mentions of injuries, alcohol problems, Leon being an orphan, mild hurt (nothing bad I swear) so cheesy and sappy.
Tumblr media
"to give up one's very self – to think only of others – how to bring the greatest happiness to others – that is the true meaning of Christmas."
The sounds of boxes being moved filled your living room. It’s the first week of December, and both of you have postponed the task of adorning your house with Christmas stuff until now. Between Leon’s job and your newfound activity (taking care of your 1 year old daughter) it’s been nearly impossible to find enough time to dedicate yourself to this special holiday. 
Leon had told you it was more than okay if you wanted to do it by yourself. He knew how much you love this holiday. And ever since halloween ended, you found yourself eager to buy even more stuff to fill your home with. Nonetheless, you waited for your husband. There was no way you would let this opportunity slip away.
And, as you walked into the living room carrying a box albeit Leon’s constant bickering about how you shouldn’t lift heavy things, your heart melted at the sight of Leon placing a christmas hat on you guys’ daughter, which was too big on her and partially covered her sight.
“Da-da” With the baby on his hip, Leon was once again trying to teach his daughter how to say his “name.” It all started with a simple joke about him being the favorite parent, but now it has turned into a serious situation, at least for him. He wanted his daughter to master the art of speaking before Christmas. Although he has noticed that his little one barely said anything else than babbling nonsense. She was almost there, those bwaaah would turn into dada, he was sure.
She had none of that, though. As soon as Leon started talking, she laughed. As if he was telling her the funniest joke ever. Your daughter had heart eyes for both of you, but you had to admit it – she was definitely a daddy's girl. The way her eyes get so big whenever she sees Leon, and how her tiny fingers wrap around his thumb each time he's feeding her – yeah, she loves her dad.
He was an expert in fatherhood. He had no recollection of ever taking care of kids before. But, as soon as his little girl was born, the father's instincts kicked in. The way her cries filled the hospital room made him want to turn off the world for a second and give his daughter and wife a well-deserved moment of peace.
However, he never thought his life would get so lucky that he would get to experience being a dad. Ever since he was born, he was surrounded by disaster and misfortune. Having to grow up at an orphanage wasn't the most ideal place to mold a child into a perfect human being, but it seems that the little time he had spent with his parents shaped him correctly.
“Ma-ma.” You walked behind Leon and placed a hand on his other hip. Your baby instantly kicked her little feet in excitement for seeing her mom. Maybe she's a mama's girl, too.
“Hey! She was almost saying dada.” Leon feigned disappointment as you tried luring your daughter into saying mama first. This was a competition between you and Leon. Which prize will be having the satisfaction of being the “favorite parent.”
“Yeah of course. My bad.” You chuckled, voice filled with sarcasm knowing that your daughter has been the laziest of babies. Most 1 year old babies already say mama or dad. Or both. Yet this little rascal just likes existing, eating, sleeping, and exploring.
Leon saw you carrying a box and sighed in mild disappointment. You could already hear him saying “I told you not to carry heavy things.” Ever since you recovered from surgery, he has gotten even more doting. Every need of you was met by the second, and you wouldn't complain, but you're still a functional adult who can actually lift boxes.
You remember when things didn't used to be like this. In the past, you weren't instantly devoted and whipped for the man that is now teaching your daughter how to say dada. You remember how your past self leaned over the counter, you were met by an usual reek of alcohol this man had. And, with a witty and drunk smile, he said his usual line.
“Another bottle here.” It was his third one that night. Not his third glass, his third bottle. He was slowly killing his liver and himself by the way kept drowning in this deadly and burning liquid. You had never met him before, but the way his dark blue eyes sometimes shone under the dim light, you knew he once was someone important. Or at least, someone needed.
“That would be your third one tonight.” You stated matter-of-factly. However, Leon didn't miss the way you refused to move and get him his booze. 
“Look at that… Smarty knows her numbers. Aren't you so, so clever?” The disdain in his voice had reached your ears. He was never the talkative client, he just spent all of his nights at your bar and drank to his heart's content. You know you shouldn't stick your nose in someone else's business yet you couldn't bear nor allow him to basically kill himself in front of you.
“Now can you please shut up and serve me another bottle.” He groaned as the empty bottle almost fell from the counter. His heavy eyelids almost closing if it wasn't from the fact that after the words he spat, you threw a glass of water to his face.
“You don't fucking talk to me like that.” Your usual warm and easy going self was long forgotten. No matter how many hardships and problems he may have, there was no way you would let him walk all over you like that. “I don't know what fucked up things you have experienced or how many people have betrayed you. But if you have time to drown yourself in this addiction and be mad about it, you also have time to make a change.”
Those words stuck with him. He knew he was being pathetic, Chris, Rebecca, hell even Claire had told him the same thing too. But he felt even more miserable when a random bartender called him out like that. Especially when you just needed to complete your job. Why would someone care? He pays, he gets his booze, repeat. But, you at least cared, even though it was something every rational human would do.
Eventually, his daily dose of booze decreased. You witnessed the small changes in him. Going from three bottles to just one, and to finally a few glasses. You witnessed how his usual dark clothes were replaced with a somewhat more colorful attire which brought out his once dull and empty blue eyes.
His slender frame slowly took form, recovering his muscles which were more visible now. His stubble remained, though. It was like a reminder of his own age – and his now different approach in life. Wiser and more careful with his own decisions. Your words didn't completely change him, but they surely helped him to see his life in another light.
Ultimately, a new Leon set foot in your bar. He was beaten up, his navy blue shirt had some blood spots while his dark brown hair was disheveled. He smelled like sweat and gunpowder. “If you ever need a tour guide in San Francisco let me know.” He said with a charming smile as you moved around your area of work. 
“I'll keep that in mind. What can I get you?” You chuckled as you went to retrieve his order. You could already hear him say it.
“Grape juice...” 
“And your number.”
Soft whines pulled you back from your trance as your babygirl grips on Leon's shirt. She wipes her face against the fabric. The little one was starting to get fuzzy since nap time had come. 
“Oh, someone is sleepy.” He coos, bringing her closer to his chest. Leon takes off the little Christmas hat that was on her head. Immediately, the little one brings her hand to her hair. She has picked up the habit to caress her own hair when falling asleep. Before she even gets to cry, Leon rocks her to sleep. His deep voice soothes her, the gentle tunes of a Christmas song was his choice of the day.
“May your days be merry and bright and may all your christmases be white.” Leon wasn’t the best of the singers but he would sing his heart out to his daughter. It was a tradition now since Leon never had someone to sing to him. The baby calmed down at a comical rate, as if she just needed her dad’s embrace to feel safe. She was safe. As long as Leon lives, you and his miracle would have the best life ever.
“I’m almost jealous, she falls asleep so fast with you.” You set down the box, stretching your arms. This is the first box out of so many, you weren’t the biggest spender nor a shopaholic but when you married Leon, some perks came with him. Those perks included having unlimited access to his black card which you use wisely. 
Wisely was an understatement, though. Having several copies of the same gingerbread man who dances every time you press a button wasn’t the wisest decision. But you and your daughter love it so Leon has to shut up. Everything for his family.
In the past, Christmas was a simple but dreadful date. He didn’t understand the point of it. When he was a rookie cop, he at least tried to force some polite smiles and give words of affirmations to his colleagues back at the police academy. He stupidly thought that once he got to work, his life would change. But the universe had other plans for him that night in September. He spent that year’s Christmas wishing to die. The government had taken away his right to end his life. Dying wasn't an option. The girl he saved back in Raccoon City, Sherry, needed him. 
Year after year, he grew resentful, angry and bitter. He expected to spend this holiday alone until his last days of life. Having to grow old and wither away, no one to care, no one who would remember him as a human and not a machine. Not the government’s lap dog.
But somehow, he met you. He was a dick at first, he knew it. Until this day, he never understood how you could choose him.  There was no guarantee he wouldn’t go back to his addiction one day. He vowed to never do it again, and he was sure to keep his promise. However, you could never know the extent of his words. You lived –at least to Leon– uncertain of how long he would be sober. But much to his dismay (or pleasure) you gave a chance to that renewed man, to that agent who had come from a mission in San Francisco that almost got him killed.
He was content with just you. He never asked for more, scared of being too greedy, too wishful. Your presence was enough for him, your smile made all of his problems go away. Your tender words were the medicine for his broken and beaten up heart, every last bit of self hatred went away with you. There was nothing else he wanted.
Until he realized that maybe, he could have the life he had always wanted.
When you announced you were expecting, Leon couldn’t show his happiness at first. He was scared. Hell, he even had to take a deep breath before telling you something. He never had a father, well he had one but his memories are too foggy. He grew up thinking kids were a mistake and that somehow, he was a mistake, too. 
He found himself slipping into the unborn baby's room when you were asleep. Watching how both of you have decorated the space where your little one will be welcomed. His fingers grazed over the white crib, already imagining what his daughter would look like. He likes to think he looks like his own mother, a blurry memory of her blonde hair swaying with the wind. His daughter will have a better life than his. He's going to fight for it.
His eyes would travel over your body. He knew how anatomy worked but watching it before his eyes was so extraordinary. Your little miracle was safely tucked inside of your belly. He has always known you were beautiful but damn – it seems that motherhood suits you a little too well. He was grateful, really grateful. You gave him the opportunity to indulge in the normal and domestic kind of life. 
“She's already asleep.” Your sweet voice called him, bringing him back to the present. While he was reminiscing about the past, the baby had already fallen asleep. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she breathed softly. Her tiny fingers still gripping his shirt.
“She's so lazy.” Leon whispered, his voice filled with softness and lighthearted teasing. He gently laid her on the couch, making sure to place some pillows around her in case she moved. A welcomed and soothing silence surrounded your still not decorated room. This was the perfect opportunity to start your Christmas task.
“You know… Now you can help me put up the countless decorations we have in these boxes.” You chuckled as you placed your hand on Leon’s cheek, your thumb grazing against the growing stubble. You loved moments like this where the only thing that lingered in the air was normalcy and harmony, no missions, no worries, just a happy family. 
“I’ll help you if you promise you won’t judge my artistic side.” His lips turned into a sly smirk before he pressed soft kisses against your lips. A sweet yet sincere demonstration of love. He always worries he’s not enough. You play your role as wife and mother, so he ought to be the best husband and father he can be while also balancing his job life. No bioweapon could compare with the fear of losing his own little family because of himself.
Time seems to fly when you’re surrounded with love, Leon lives by that saying. You both decided to put up the tree first since that’s the most arduous task to complete. It takes you almost an hour between placing the ornaments in the correct place and Leon being scolded because he can’t match colors even if his life depended on it. 
“Now big boy, you gotta put the star at the top.” You crossed your arms as Leon placed the last ornament on the tree. It wasn’t the best tree, especially since Leon didn’t give any artistic advice on his side. Some colors looked rather odd combined with others, but Leon thought it was abstract.
Almost inaudible babblings made you turn around and found your baby already awake. She was playing by herself, her hands reaching for the ceiling. You had to admit it – she was sometimes an angel. She easily entertained herself and barely cried. 
You reached for her and walked toward the tree. Now her fingers tried to grab the Christmas ornaments. The colors reflecting on her blue eyes – that she got from Leon. By the way she kept babbling nonsense it almost looked like she was talking.
“Huh? Right I told your mom that too but she didn’t like the idea.” Leon acted like he understood what the little one was saying. And she also engaged in the conversation, two people against your own ideas.
For a few minutes, you focused on your daughter and how amazed she seems to be with everything. In her own world, that tree was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen.
But out of nowhere, both of you looked back at Leon who was sniffing and gently sobbing in front of the tree.
“Sorry, sorry…” He chuckled before wiping away some of the tears that continued falling without stopping. He then waved his hand dismissively, expecting you to drop the subject. Now he had two pairs of eyes intensely looking at him, yours and your baby’s.
After a short while of him trying to keep his tears of joy at bay, he eventually spoke once again.
“Thank you. For… For this.” A gentle smile formed in his face as he opened his arms. You wasted no time to welcome the hug. Now, the three of you were in front of the Christmas tree. The babbling, the sobs, and the soothing music in the background formed a domestic and warm scene. Full of love, emotions, and devotion. His thank you conveyed so much more than just merely words of gratitude. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for believing in me, and thank you for marrying me and thank you for giving me the family I never had. He wanted to say those things, but he remained silent. He knew you would understand the meaning behind his simple thank you.
He would have never expected something like this. He had always thought he was doomed from the start. That his life would be about saving others and never being saved. But he was saved, and he will always be saved.
His daughter’s hands reached for his face, her fingers grabbing his cheeks and nose. Leon obliged, moving his face closer. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until her lips moved on her own.
“Dada!”
He will never shut up now.
697 notes · View notes
two-white-butterflies · 8 months
Text
archer | c16
Description: "All of my enemies started out friends, help me hold unto you." After a series of instagram posts - your ex-friend fabricates screenshots that almost end your career.
Author's Note: Inspired after listening to reputation.
Tumblr media
natacha_ziguerra added to their story!
Tumblr media
caption: y/n nation, this yo girl?
replies
ultraviolencekanada: CHAT, IS THIS REAL?
DARKLINGHOMIE23: She is messy
yourusername16: i never typed this thing before, tacha wtf ⁉️
yourusername16: ur broke ass got nothing to eat anymore? 💀
Tumblr media
natacha_ziguerra: Ya'll may have seen my story and I just wanna let ya'll know that this girl has done so much worse... all the deets are in my patreon ... ya'll help a girl out. (Prices start at $5 Dollars.)
liked by 324,239 others
comments
yourusername16: what is this broke-ass behavior? boo i can pay for you and ur patreon, this isn't sum wattpad social media au bs.
yourusername16: trust, i will be in contact with my lawyers. - natacha_ziguerra: BABE you've been talking shit about so MANY popstars, Ari, Sza, Lehlani, Lana... you can call your lawyers but this aint slander because I'm telling the truth. ❤️ - yourusername16: @natacha_ziguerra 💀
Tumblr media Tumblr media
yourusername16: your nemesis will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing. now he's passing by, rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. camera credits to my baby: @Charles_Leclerc16
liked by danielricciardo and 1,293,012 others
comments
ohnoloveme3: YN IS OVER PARTY
righthere99: YN IS OVER 🐍
Charles_Leclerc16: I'm proud of you for being strong ❤️
danielricciardo: You are one of the strongest women that I know. - heidiberger: 💗 stay strong yn!
kellypiquet: True power comes from the truth. You can do this! ✨
Tumblr media
Charles_Leclerc16: I will always support, love and respect you. ✨
liked by kellypiquet and 1,394,192 others
comments
maxverstappen1: ❤️
charlottehope8: Never believe posts that are evidently edited. Some people will use you for clout 💯
pierreGASLY: 💪🏽💗
yourusername16: Likewise, Mr. Leclerc
comments have been restricted.
TRENDING TOPICS ON TWITTER.
Y/NISOVERPARTY
YNSNEK
YNSNAKE
YN AND CHARLES
NATACHA ZIGUERRA PATREON
Tumblr media
YNnation: Y/N has deactivated all of her social media account following the backlash. #YN #CHARLESLECLERC
liked by 82,391 others
comments
boodoyathang7: Imma keep streaming her songs idgaf
honeymoon: It saddens me that people in this modern age still believe in random BS from social media. Y/N is a close friend of mine, and she's never spoken about our peers in the disgusting way that her ex-friend illustrated. Furthermore, her ex-friend hid the evidence behind pay wall...and that says everything.
honeymoon: I will patiently wait until she returns to social media, but you heard it from me. These accusations are NOT real! And everyone who believed them should be ashamed of themselves. - lanadelcake3: SLAY QUEEN
Tumblr media
(ONE YEAR LATER)
Tumblr media
yourusername16: there will be no explanation, there will just be reputation. 🐍
liked by Charles_Leclerc16 and 4,832,192 others
comments
kellypiquet: I hit you like bang 💥
danielricciardo: I listened to it first 🙏🏻 - Charles_Leclerc16: 1/50 🤣
comments have been restricted.
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
yourusername16 with Charles_Leclerc16: This album will have zero promotion - only vibes. My single Queen of Disaster ft. Lana Del Rey will be out tonight - I'll show you more at midnight. ⏰💗💞
liked by kellypiquet and 8,291,029 others
kellypiquet: My favorite lyrics are: I'll be spinning like a ballerina 🩰 feeling gangster every time I see you. You're the King and baby I'm the Queen of Disaster. 💞
honeymoon: THIS WAS AMAZING!
taylorswift: 🥲 that's my baby
comments have been restricted.
Tumblr media
Charles_Leclerc16: I'm proud of who you were, who you are, and who you will be. ❤️
liked by carlossainz55 and 1,282,192 others
comments
daeneryslove: This is real love
bello3chiao: FUCK ROMEO AND JULIET, I WANT WHAT THESE TWO BITCHES HAVE
spitme93: He's supported her throughout everything
honeymoon added to their story!
Tumblr media
replies
yourusername16: aww thank you for the pic, lana 💗
TRENDING TOPICS ON TWITTER.
Y/N and Lana
Queen of Disaster
Reputation
Natacha Ziguerra Patreon
Y/N LECLERC
Tumblr media
Y/N L/N TALKS ABOUT CANCEL CULTURE AND CYBERBULLYING.
Y/N L/N: I remember waking up - completely clueless as to why my phone was blowing up and apparently an ex-friend of mine decided to forge screenshots of me saying nasty things. And that opened up a realm of so much bullying.
Y/N L/N: I didn't love myself, I had a pretty low self esteem. While, the things that she shared weren't true - I thought that the critiques about my looks, my personality and my voice had some truth. When you don't love yourself, it's pretty easy to see your flaws.
Y/N L/N: My boyfriend, actually recommended that I take a social media break just to tune everything out. And that proved to be successful. I left the public eye for a year. I wasn't physically seen for more than a year and i't's been a wonderful journey of healing.
Tumblr media
yourusername16: maybe reputation was the friends we made along the way...?
liked by charlottehope8 and 5,182,192 others
comments
Charles_Leclerc16: The Power of Friendship 👊🏼
charlottehope8: I love this picture
kellypiquet: We should be on the album cover. @maxverstappen1 @charlottehope8 - charlottehope8: Ditto 🤣
Tumblr media
Charles_Leclerc16: My baby's fit like a daydream ☀️
liked by danielricciardo and 1,282,192 others
comments
yourusername16: Walking with his head down, I'm the one he's walking tooo....
comments have been restricted.
Tumblr media
561 notes · View notes
ozzgin · 24 days
Text
BNHA Headcanons: Pro-Hero AU! Todoroki Shoto x Reader
A/N: Posting this separately for @eudonyx so people don't get confused by the Christmas greetings in the ask (I am that slow for some things unfortunately). 😭
Featuring Shoto as a loving husband to Reader. (Gender Neutral, fluff)
Tumblr media
If there's one thing Todoroki greatly appreciates, it's routine. But not the kind of routine you'd expect, such as mere morning habits. You see, his life as a pro-hero is quite erratic and unpredictable. You never know when disaster will hit. Or when a villain needs to be defeated. But among this chaos, there's one thing that always stands true, one aspect that never changes: at the end of the day, he comes home to you.
In fact, he'd go as far as to say you're his little corner of peace. The world may burn; as long as his (Y/N) is by his side, there's still hope to cling onto. It's just the way it's always been: You are his greatest source of comfort. And so, after a long, busy day, he cannot wait to open the door and see your welcoming smile and hear your soothing voice.
It's the little things in life that matter. This is the philosophy Todoroki adheres to. He has a fantastic reputation, and the masses adore him. He's frequently interviewed and invited to events. Yet, for him, nothing compares to an evening spent hanging out with you. No amount of fame can ever compare to the love and understanding he receives from his one and only spouse.
Such thoughts are naturally matched by gestures to prove it. Todoroki is an incredibly thoughtful husband. Mind you, he's not the type to impress you with gestures of grandeur. He's one of the top heroes and could easily arrange extravagant proposals if you so desired. He prefers, however, to show he cares in quieter ways. Randomly returning with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Stopping by your favorite bakery to surprise you with sweets. Handing you tickets to an upcoming concert of your favorite singer (yes, he took the time off from the moment he heard about it).
He is also not one to parade you around, but he will be very firm about his relationship. From an awkward, easily flustered boy, to a tactful, confident man. It's not uncommon for Shouto to be approached by fans with flirtatious intents. In that case, he will smile and keep his distance, adjusting his suit with the same hand that bears his ring. "I hope you find someone who loves you as much as I love my spouse", he'll confess cheerfully. "I can understand your feelings, I am the same as you when it comes to (Y/N)", he'll relate empathetically.
Shouto strives for peace and justice, like any other hero, though he'd be lying if he said it's his main motivation. In reality, his driving force is you. He will do his best again today, so that he can return into your arms once everything is done.
292 notes · View notes
doobea · 8 months
Note
scenario that is rotting my brain (just sharing ! don’t feel pressured to write about this):
cat rin and sae (add anyone else you wish!!)) 😃😃 au them having cat ears and tail and reader’s their ‘owner’ ((nsfw or sfw))
for more context,, they hide their cat characteristics in public but when they come home to reader they let loose and reveal their ‘true form’ 🤭🤭 reader could just be a childhood friend who found out about them or someone who ‘picked them up’ and taken care of them and have since lived tgt
Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: headcanons of cat!sae + cat!rin (sfw + nsfw) bye what if you found them in a trashcan or a cardboard box out in the rain LMAO
content: bro idk they're grumpy cat boys, fem!reader, explicit under sfw, mdni a/n: anon u have a crazy imagination and im living here for it (i got carried away and now this is so long whoops im sorry)
Tumblr media
how you found them
Living day to day as a working college student gets boring fast. You're not the type to have roommates because of your packed schedule of studying, school, part-time job, and more studying right after. With, of course, a couple of "girl meals" sprinkled in throughout the minimal free hours you have. You live in a small studio apartment right off of the main campus and, after your halfway point through the academic year, you started to realize that it's incredibly lonely.
You were heading back late from the library one night in the pouring rain when you heard a series of muffled meows right underneath a parked car outside your apartment. It didn't take much coaxing to convince the pair of scrawny cats to crawl into your bag as you rushed inside from the torrential rainfall. Ok, cool, maybe this was a sign from the above to make you feel less isolated and depressed?
Wrong! They were super cute the first night, snuggled up against each other to keep one another warm but the next morning was an absolute disaster. They hated each other. Cue tons of running around, hissing, biting, and scratching (maybe a few of your potted plants died in the process - rip). You had no idea why they were together in the first place.
It took a solid two weeks before they finally settled down at your place. And it took another two weeks for you to realize that maybe they're not really just cats. With just two quick kisses on their noses, before you went to sleep one night, led to you waking up in bed with two gorgeous men wrapped around your limbs. But wait, they still kept some of their cat characteristics - ears and tails!
cat!sae (sfw)
Sae reverts back into his feline form whenever he feels the urge to explore and have alone time. His favorite spots to lounge around in your apartment consists of the sofa armrests, the top area of the kitchen cabinets that are impossible to reach (he's always so dusty when he jumps off smh), and your clothes.
He's definitely the type to push items off the countertop/table to get your attention. Specifically goes after the ones with food or liquid in them if he's feeling extra needy.
Likes it when you scratch behind his ears and rub his chin - but don't do it for too long! Any wrong angle will cause him to ignore you for the rest of the day (so picky...). He loves/hates it when you pick him up - everything has to be on his schedule!
When you're getting ready to sleep, he claims the space at the end of the bed, almost as if he's guarding you. Probably sleeps curled up in a ball and snores (just a tiny bit).
His humanoid form carried over his cat traits - he wears a hat to hide his folded cat ears and an oversized hoodie in order to shove his tail up his back.
Will straight up ask you to scratch and rub his ears again, not really understanding the difference in circumstances. His favorite position is laying his head on your lap when you're on either the bed or sofa.
Sae loves to tease you physically whenever he has the chance but he's always so expressionless about it. You're cooking in the kitchen? He'll walk by you and let his tail slightly graze against your back. Grabbing something? Suddenly he needs to grab something too and stands behind you to reach for whatever random object his attention shifts to, making sure that his chest leans against your body.
In public, he purposely wears his hat loose so that you have to fix it for him. He thinks it's funny and adorable seeing you panic but it's also just an excuse for him to have you touch him.
cat!rin (sfw)
Whenever Rin is having a bad day he turns back into a cat and hides under your bed or dresser, only coming out when it's time for dinner or when you're about to go to sleep. His favorite spots, when he's not in a mood, are: behind the shower curtains, inside your kitchen cabinets, and underneath the blankets of your bed (he likes dark areas to be emo I guess).
Unlike Sae who pushes things off the surface for your attention, Rin will just come up to you and sit next to you when you're doing tasks. For example, if you're studying for an exam, he'll jump to an empty spot on the table and keep you company until you're done.
Scratch his back and give him head pats! He’ll forever be in your favor and he’ll vocalize it too. He's extremely easy to please when it comes to physical affection but it took you a long time to gain his trust completely.
His favorite place to sleep is next to your head! Definitely the type to sprawl his body across your pillow, purr super loudly, and most likely the type to drool too (hopefully you don't mind!). Bonus: he's always the one to wake you first by making "biscuits" on your stomach.
When he's in his humanoid form, Rin doesn't really go outside that much. If he has to, he's covered from head to toe in a black baseball cap, sunglasses, a face mask, a black jacket, and long trousers.
He stares at you a lot in his cat form, that habit doesn't stop when he's in his humanoid form either. You don't find it weird at all - it's oddly calming and kinda cute that he's always looking after you. Bonus: it took him a while to realize that bringing you dead birds and rats (in both cat/humanoid forms) wasn’t romantic at all.
During a particularly windy day, his hat blew away and a kid saw his ears, you're bad at lying so you tried convincing the kid that Rin was just a very exclusive toy you found online.
He's only physically affectionate with you in his cat form but, outside of that, he shows his affection very awkwardly through small shirt tugs and just tailing you around the apartment.
nsfw feat. both brothers (bye why do i feel embarrassed while writing this)
Everything is a competition to them. Ever since you took them in, they thought about a lot of ways to make it up to you, whether it be helping you with chores around the house or attempting to cook you meals (because let's be real they are unemployed!). It was Sae's brilliant idea to compensate you in the other department.
It starts off almost too innocently. After about three months of living together, your noisy neighbors started asking you about the mysterious men living at your apartment and to which both brothers replied that they were your boyfriends (shocker I know). You assumed that they were just weirdly possessive since you were kinda their only caretaker and still had no idea where they came from.
You made sure that they had enough space to sleep on your sleeper sofa when they decided to stay in their humanoid forms but that night they both decided to crash in your bed (they both couldn't sleep because of "discomfort").
You were quick to pick up on their physical wants and needs. Sae comes off as almost a selfish lover while Rin is rather selfless. Sae likes to focus his attention on your physical traits while Rin makes sure that you're doing mentally and emotionally okay during intimacy.
Both like having their ears pulled, Sae more than Rin, but Rin loves it when you tug on his tail and give him praises (specifically only him). Of course, both also love leaving love bites all over your body and it's an endless amount of licking for down there.
Nights like that usually end up with Sae spooning you and Rin resting peacefully on your chest. The next morning starts off with a breakfast competition of who can cook you the best omelet (spoiler alert it's neither of them).
894 notes · View notes
anakinsdove · 2 months
Text
𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫
pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader
summary: you and anakin arranged a date in your apartment tonight… yes like a normal couple.
c/w: fluff, (and a little bit angsty) ani is in love and so are you, dates dates dates, movie night.
discord - twitter: anakinsdove
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。Love you
𝘄/𝗰 - 2,819
“So you’re free tonight right?” “Yes” Anakin confirms for the millionth time today… it’s not your fault tho, you just wanna make sure this evening goes exactly as planned, it’s not every night you can arrange a date with your boyfriend though it’s exactly what you and him want, but after all, you’re not a normal couple, he’s a Jedi and not to mention dating it’s forbidden for Jedis, he’s also very busy… you pull at his hair excitedly and he hisses a little. “Wait! What movie are we watching?” You ask, and he nuzzles his face in your chest “Not Bribery” “Is that the one about the alien that-” “Yes that one” “It’s a good movie though” “Of course it’s not” your eyes widen at his disrespect…
“I can’t believe you actually said that” “it’s true” you grumble quietly and he chuckles… his eyes remain closed when he suddenly hears his communicator beeping “Is that-” he groans and answers
“Anakin, you must’ve report to the temple immediately” it’s obi wan “Be right there master” there’s clearly annoyance in his voice, and his heart sinks at your disappointed expression written all over your pretty face… “Hey… the sooner I go the sooner I’ll be back okay?” You can only nod already accepting that the date night is already canceled, you think it’s really selfish wanting to keep him all to yourself, after all he’s a Jedi, he saves lives, he does it for the republic, he does it everyday, why can’t you have him for a couple of hours?
“Look love… don’t worry, you go and get yourself all dolled up, I promise the date isn’t cancelled okay?” You can only hope it’s true… you think it’ll be more painful to get yourself ready and having to take your pretty dress off, make up and hairstyle, later when he never shows up than to accept it now, but he’s making you a promise and he will keep it
“I’ll be waiting” you say and kiss his cheek, he grins at this and closes the door and hear from the other side “I’ll be here at 9:00” you nod forgetting he can’t see you…
5:45 PM
There’s a lot left to do, but where to start? Is the real question, you decide to start with cleaning around a little bit, you move the couch only to find Anakin’s beanie you knitted for him Anakin you grumbled angrily “It’s in my drawer I’m sure” he said a while ago when you questioned him why he didn’t wear it anymore… a few minutes later everything is done and the next step is to start dolling yourself up, you want this to be special and none of your dresses seem to match your expectation… too pink, too red, too elegant, too informal, wrong print? too short? I don’t think that would bother Anakin at all but it bothers you for some reason, it’s like your first date all over again, the butterflies, the anxiety and the unbelievable excitement… it was a great date, considering his padawan braid got stuck in your necklace, you cringe at the memory.
After what feels like an eternity you pick a dress… it’s beautiful purple and it has the “right” length, deciding to ignore the complete disaster you made in your closet, buuuuut now… your nails don’t match the stupid dress! Trying to grab your pretty lilac nail polish a knocking the rest of your make up over, you gasp when you hear your eyeshadow palette breaking and see pigment on the ground “oh no” the sadness in your voice equals to a kicked puppy, you kneel on the ground to dust it away.. it was your favorite palette, the pretty and expensive one, whimpering when you throw it in the trash.
Now you’re painting your nails sad and not even doing it right, there’s nail polish all over your fingers… what the fuck? The shower will take care of it
7:09 PM
Fuck! Everything it’s taking longer than usual, you haven’t even showered yet!
You undress yourself and get in a little bit too quick, the water is still cold, it makes you wince, but there’s not enough time and Anakin said he would be here at 9:00… your makeup, take out, your outfit, the candles? It’s not that you can’t do anything right it’s just that the excitement bubble you feel in your stomach betrays you and turns into anxiety. He would be happy to spend an evening with you in the sand just to be by your side, Anakin wouldn’t notice the small details that make you pull your hair, or maybe he would and wouldn’t even care, or maybe he would care-
8:54 PM
The rest of your routine goes slightly more smoothly, everything is set and now you’re just waiting for Anakin to arrive, you sigh and pray that everything goes as planned from now on.
9:01
9:07
9:15
9:23
9:28
Since when is your couch so big? And why do you feel the clock is ticking too loud for your liking? Your dress feels so tight and then is inevitable… You feel the familiar sensation of tears welling up in your eyes “You think it’ll be more painful to get yourself ready and having to take your pretty dress off, make up and hairstyle, later when he never shows up than to accept it now, but he’s making you a promise and he will keep it”
But then there’s an urgent knocking on your door, one that you could’ve never mistake, the kind of knocking that wants to take the stupid door down and your practically jump from the couch and sprint towards the door, opening it with shaky hands… And there he is… he’s frowning and gripping the bouquet of flowers in his hands anxiously, already damaging the wrapper that holds it together. “Y/n” he says breathlessly and he immediately stops when he notices the tears in your eyes.
Your eyes switch to his face to his eyes lips then the bouquet, taking all of him so you can remember this later, his robes are muddy “Ani-" he places the flowers at a nearby table and instantly takes your face in his hands “What’s the matter doll?” He asks and wipes your tears away.. it actually makes you melt.
“I thought you weren’t coming” Your voice comes out small and you feel a little sad for not trusting him from the begging, he promised he would be here and here he is…. “I’m sorry for being so late Y/N I- the mission was- it’s not important” “Are you okay?” You ask, he gives you a small smile and nods “Everything is alright, everyone as well” you sigh in relief “That’s good my love, congrats” you hug him, he’s still sad at the sight of your dried tears on your cheeks, but at least your mascara is still intact.
“You sure that’s all?” Your grip around him tightens as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, suddenly your struggles from earlier don’t seem like a big deal after his own deal being a Jedi is responsibility aswell. “I almost messed up our date?” “Huh? And why’s that love?” And you finally look up at him “I dunno… it’s silly”
“It can’t be silly if it bothered you enough to make you cry” you want to argue and say It is but he might be right and you don’t know better “First I found out you did loose the scarf I made you-” “Where is it!?” He asks excitedly “Then I didn’t like any of my dresses… it took me forever, then my nails wouldn’t match my dress and I dropped my eyeshadow palette-“ “The pretty one with the pink tones?” “Yes, that one” “Aw, I’m sorry doll” “It’s okay… then I got in the shower and the water was freezing and then you wouldn’t show up!” Anakin cringes at the last part and you continue “I-I’m sorry, all of this sounds really stupid compared to any kind of problem you face daily as Jedi-” “Normal” “Huh?” “Your problems are… are normal… I like normal” “Oh… You do?” “Of course Y/N… after dealing with the war everyday and the council… this, this is exactly what I need” you chuckle “Well it’s always a pleasure to be ordinary enough for you” “I didn’t mean it like that-” “I know” you giggle… “I wish our life would be this domestic sometimes, can you imagine? You, me and two little mini you running around the house?” Children… he’s thinking about children, that gives you a reality check, any silly doubt you might have about your relationship is gone just like that because he’s actually dreaming about a life with you, and you wouldn’t prefer any different.
“I would love that” you say sincerely… “They would have your eyes and my hair…. Your eyebrows” He traces them delicately “And maybe my personality, one each” that makes you beam “I can’t wait” “Me neither” He takes your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly… it’s nice and delicate, he hums in the kiss and takes the chance to slide his tongue in his mouth, you suck at it softly and after a few seconds you pull away only to find the completely head over heels gaze he’s giving you.
“You’re all muddy” you say “I didn’t see the hole in the ground-” you shake your head in disbelief and take his hand in yours to guide him to your bathroom “It was Obi wan’s fault!” Now.. how could that possibly be Obi wan’s fault? But you let him ramble. “Undress” you say
“Oh you would’ve loved that wouldn’t you?” he teases and you punch him in the shoulder jokingly. He starts taking his robes off while you start filling the tub, the water is warm this time and you pour a little of your lavander soap in “Hey i thought you wanted a show” he says teasingly, because you made him undress and you didn’t even watch… that’s a shame honestly. “Get in baby” he can’t resist you or a warm bath when needed.
The water is instantly soothing for his aching muscles… he groans and tilts his head back, opening his eyes to find you looking at him adoringly “Thank you my love” he says and you lean in to kiss his cheek “You’re very welcome Ani” you throw him your old rubber duck in he laughs, he closes his eyes and sighs, he couldn’t ask for anything better in life… his eyes remain closed for a few seconds “C’mon Baby don’t pass out… you could’ve drown” “Mmm I know you wouldn’t let me” “Don’t be so sure” he opens his eyes wide and you cackled. “Close your eyes” you say “Make up your mind” he teases but does as you say, You take a small recipient with warm water and pour it over his head, gently soaking his curls, he tilts his head forward like a child, then you pour some of the apple shampoo on your hand, you figured out he liked the scent and you start gently massaging his scalp and smile when you see bubbles, his eyes peaked open to look at your loving and concentrating expression, he’s melting but when your nails escaped along his scalp he purrs… the night goes on and when you’re done washing his hair and his bubble bath is over he turns the shower on to wash his body… you wait for him with a fluffy bath towel, he smiles when he sees you and he wraps himself in it.
He follows you into your bedroom where he find a pair of his sweatpants he keeps in here, the sweater you knitted for him, a pair of your fluffy socks and clean boxers, he gives you a grateful smile… when he’s done he wraps his arms around you and you lean on him as he rubs your back “You’re a little tense hun” “Whaaat? No I’m” “Lay down” you look up at him with puppy eyes “Lay down on your stomach c’mon” And who are you to complain when Anakin Skywalker gives an order.
You lay down on the bed and he takes your heels off and kisses up your calf, and okay you weren’t completely lying, you’re still not completely sure you’re actually tense and that Anakin only wants an excuse to touch you, but his touch already feels amazing… “M’sorry I didn’t say it earlier but you look absolutely beautiful, every single detail about you is perfect” that means a lot to you “Thank you… You’re So Perfect-” he starts kissing down you back covering your spine with kisses, his hands find the zip or your dress “Gonna unzip your dress okay? I’m gonna take it off” “Yeah” you say already agreeing with anything he says, he chuckles, his hand unzips your dress nice and slow while his eyes trace every detail of your back… moles, marks, tattoos, anything… wait that looks like a constellation… he takes the dress off leaving you only in your bra and panties “This too” he pulls at your bra and you roll your eyes not annoyed at all “alright” he instantly unclasps your bra and you lift yourself so he can take it off, his touch is gentle when he slides the straps down your shoulders… his gaze lingers on your chest and you giggle “My massage” “Oh! Right” He pushes your on your stomach again, his hands dig into your shoulder blades and you make a little sound when his metal hand touches your back, it’s cold and it feels good for some reason “There’s a knot here” he says and pushes deeper to massage your skin, you moan and his ears perk up at the sound but he pushes those thoughts to the back of his head for your own sake and his “Ani… that feels really good” “I know” he says cockily and keeps working his magic, suddenly his hands grip your ass and you gasp “You’re tense here too” he massages the skin and you actually think you’re muscles are grateful… the feeling want to make your thighs squeeze Not now You think.
10 minutes later he’s done and you’re actually sleepy, he takes one of your sweaters out of your drawer and you try to put it on but he does it for you, unfortunately his hand tickles your ribs and you giggle, he looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes… “Would you like to watch a movie” he kisses your neck and you close your eyes “Sure!” You beam, “Okay… I’ll make the pop corn” he keeps kissing you and you think he might never stop and make the damn pop corn, though you’re not sure you want him to stop you whimper and your breathing heaves “I’ll go now… promise” however he keeps kissing you and you take the chance to tickle his ribs, he cackles and takes the queue to leave.
You realize you still have makeup on your face and you curse at yourself, feeling lazy to take it off but going to the bathroom and washing your face no matter how much you wanna eat pop corn and get into his arms you want.. he comes back 5 minutes later with the bowl of pop corn and two drinks… you beam at the sight of snacks and he chuckles “Are you happy to see me or the popcorn?” “Both”
“We’re watching Bribery” you say simply “Whatever” he says clearly not happy with your choice but happier nonetheless to be here, he thinks it’s cute how much you like this shitty movie… you nuzzle into his arms and 40 minutes later you’re starting to fall asleep.
“It’s time to sleep love” “Nuh uh” you say with your eyes already closed “What why not?” He asks curiously, your body says otherwise
“You still haven’t fucked me, date night it’s not over” you say boldly and he cackles
“It’s alright love, I’ll promise I’ll fuck you in the morning”
“Promise?”
“Promise”
He stays up for a little after you fell asleep, admiring your features and tracing them gently with his knuckle, careful to not harm you, to not wake you up or disturb you in any way “I love you… more than anything in the entire universe…” something sparked inside him watching your sleep so vulnerable and with your guard completely down, trusting him completely.. “And I would never let something bad happen to you…” he kisses your forehead and stares at you with pure adoration in his eyes… he truly loves you… he tries to find a word bigger than that to state his love for you but the sleepiness is finally getting to him too…
“G’night” he mutters and lastly kisses your nose.
masterslist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.
dividers- @i92-93
234 notes · View notes
jo-harrington · 4 months
Text
Disaster Preparedness (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Maybe it's time to put a name to whatever it is you and Eddie are...but not without some misunderstandings first.
Previous Part: Peak Sales Hours
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Angst, Jealousy, Fluff, and a series of unfortunate misunderstandings with a sweet ending.
Note: A day late, but what can you do. This was sort of always a pre-planned part of the Store Manager Verse (and actually set at Christmas Time at StarCourt) but a very special prompt made me switch it up. So without further ado @allthingsjoeq and @bettyfrommars please consider this collection of Holiday shenanigans inspired by I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus my take on Prompt 14 from your Holiday Prompt Party:
You can tell that the mall Santa is a babe under that beard, and you decide to get closer to investigate.
With a little twist...
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
The holiday season wasn't Eddie's favorite, per se.
Just like Thanksgiving, it was a time to make do. Couldn't really celebrate when you were reminded of the things you'd lost or didn't have in the first place.
Still it had its high points. Cookies were great, having a little extra cash between Wayne's holiday pay and bonus and the handful of parties he'd be able to deal at, and let it be known that...Eddie Munson was a sucker for snow and always wished for a White Christmas.
And for his friends? Eddie would always muster up the Holiday Spirit and Christmas Cheer. A special one-off campaign for Hellfire, a potluck dinner with Corroded Coffin, and handmade gifts that he spent way too much time on.
This year...working at StarCourt brought its own spin on Holiday cheer and it was a little annoying.
If he hadn't worked the closing shift on the 30th, and seen all of the overnight workers and maintenance vehicles that rolled out of the service corridors as he walked out, Eddie would have thought that it was magic that transformed StarCourt Mall into a true Winter Wonderland come December 1st.
Because it was night and day.
Lights were strung around every store entrance, wreaths and garland hung every 50 feet from the ceiling, soap snow fell down from special blowers in the vents onto the food court, and the space in front of Montgomery Ward suddenly contained a special gift-wrapping destination.
And suddenly the mall muzak had a festive flair to it.
It was honestly kind of sickening.
He wasn't a scrooge or anything, it was just overwhelming and appeared all at once. And after how overwhelming Black Friday had been, how was anyone supposed to cope with the bright lights, large crowds, and repetitive music? He intentionally started turning the shop radio to a higher volume to drown out the bells jingling and carols mingling for the next few shifts after the decorations appeared.
"It's Holidazzle," you told him as he leaned against the entryway to your store--"the conversion Eddie, for God's sake!"--and watched you hang a special banner in the window, featuring the Gift of Piercing and cartoon bears ice skating around a tree.
"It's overkill," he argued.
"It's Mall Life." You climbed down from your ladder and surveyed your work with a critical eye. "You get used to the big everything that is Christmas and just deal with it, and then, come January, it all dies. We're decorating today, and next week we start wearing reindeer antlers on the sales floor. It just is what it is. Gotta get the customers into the festive spirit so they buy more before it all tapers out.
"Surprised Kyle isn't already wearing like...a Santa hat and a cheesy sweater with ornaments hanging off it or something."
And Eddie wasn't sure if you were somehow clairvoyant or just knew his boss well enough, but that's exactly what Kyle wore to his next shift and, indeed, every shift for the remainder of December.
Santa hats in every color--and he'd bought hats for everyone else in the store--and if there wasn't a Santa hat, there was tinsel in his hair. A piece of glittery garland strung around his neck and a mug full of cocoa constantly present in his hand, even when he was on the sales floor. And, somehow, a different cheesy holiday sweater on every single shift he had.
Where did he even get them?
"Listen," he clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder and shoved a candy cane in his hand. "I know you're Mr. Non-Conformity, but in this instance, you just gotta go with the flow. No one wants to give their money to the Grinch. But Jolly Old Saint Kyle? He's who they're trusting for their Christmas Gifts. You catch me?"
---
So Eddie tried.
He did. He tried.
For all of 3 days.
He wore the hat, he played the game, he did his spiel about gift certificates and BOGO, and he didn't even get a treat at the end of his shifts because you worked the opposite schedule from him. With school and all it was hard...
He just wanted to kiss you. Was that too much to ask for? It wouldn't be the most romantic place but he figured that he could set out some mistletoe by the baler and trick you into a festive smooch when you took the cardboard out. He could do that now, except he couldn't.
...but Wednesday night you'd both be closing. You'd swapped shifts with Mindy two weeks in a row so you could go to his show last week and she could go to her kids' Christmas Recital at the elementary school this week.
He definitely planned to make his move and get his reward. And give you a little reward of your own, seeing how hard you'd been working too. He wondered if this might be the chance to officially ask you to be his girl. Everyone had already made the assumption the two of you had been dating for months...why not put a name to it? And then he could take you out on a real date.
What could possibly go wrong?
Famous last words.
With a few minutes until his fifteen, anticipation building...Mike and Dustin ran into Tape World, looking out of breath and nervous.
Eddie was finishing up a special order for a customer when he saw them out of the corner of his eye. Little assholes, lurking by the door. Mitch had tried to walk up to them and give them the spiel but they waved him off.
"We're here for Eddie."
Great. This better not be about one of them missing Hellfire on Friday.
"What do you want?" he huffed, trying to be a little patient with them since it was the holidays after all. He picked on them enough at school. "It’s busy tonight."
"Well," Dustin shifted. "We were coming to see the new Ewoks movie--" Eddie snorted and grinned at them fondly. "--and we were just killing some time, when we passed by Mom's store."
Eddie couldn't help the bark of laughter he let out with that one. He told the guys to cut it out, this...continuation of calling you Mom since Halloween.
"You guys gotta stop calling her that," he scoffed. "Steve Harrington's your Mom. Get that straight."
"Well then Mom is upstairs right now flirting with not Mom," Mike sassed, hands on his hips.
Now that gave Eddie pause. Harrington? Upstairs with you?
Flirting?
“Kissing.”
Kissing?!
"What?" Eddie's voice broke a little as he reacted. He chuckled to try and alleviate some of his own nerves. "Isn't Harrington dating someone? Pretty sure I've seen him running around with that cashier from KB Toys."
"Well it was Wicks'n'Sticks."
"But we think they broke up!" Mike piped up. "Because Steve quit Scoops last week."
"Which means we need to pay full price for movie tickets again," Dustin nodded.
"But Nancy said that Robin told her…that he got a job at Santa's Workshop," Mike thumbed over his shoulder. "And we just saw Santa upstairs with Mom and she was wiping strawberry lipgloss out of his beard."
The first thought in Eddie’s head was that you didn’t wear strawberry lipgloss.
The next was that you didn’t wear strawberry lipgloss when you kissed him. What if you wore it for Steve?
No, that was ridiculous.
But unless Santa’s Workshop was operating as a functioning kissing booth and Harrington was looking for a quick and easy fix for a bunch of housewives smooching him after their kids asked for a new bike or Hot Wheels racetrack or Tina the Talking Tabby doll…there was no explanation.
Which, alright, Eddie wouldn’t normally consider himself a jealous person. An envious person. Yeah, he might have seen a little green at the edges of his vision when the kids fawned over Steve Harrington time and again, but ever since he was brought down a few pegs—humbled—he didn’t seem like the same old douchebag from Hawkins High that he used to be.
Eddie might even say Steve was kind of alright.
But you were his girlfriend…or something…
And the jealousy and possessiveness he often mocked others for over the years, as he watched meathead jocks tighten their arms around their girlfriends shoulders as he simply walked past, suddenly overcame him.
“Mitch I’m taking my fifteen!” He called towards the back of the store and strutted out of Tape World, all while Mike and Dustin called after him, fully intending to get to the bottom of this obvious misunderstanding.
---
He planned to ask you about Harrington the moment you opened the door to the loading dock, hauling the dolly of cardboard boxes behind you.
A simple "hey sweetheart, how was your day, anyone named Kris Kringle come to bother you?" and he would have had his answer and all of his doubt would have been alleviated once and for all.
Except that as soon as you appeared--with your disheveled hair and makeup, your slumped shoulders, and your groan of weariness--your eyes got brighter and you melted at the sight of him. So happy to see him, so relieved.
Then he melted.
"God, what a night," you groaned and let the dock door slam behind you. You abandoned your cardboard and walked right into his arms where he was standing by the baler; your arms wrapped around his waist and your face nuzzled into his flannel, just the way he constantly craved. "Some lady wanted an individual gift receipt for every single item she bought. Then Chrissy almost messed up this kid's piercing. Thank God I stopped her as soon as I saw."
"Oh yeah?"
"And then I swear I'm like...I just have one of those faces where everyone comes and complains to me as they're shopping. I have to hear about everyone's life story or their relationship issues, especially this one guy..."
Eddie's ears practically perked up at that.
"This one guy?" he urged you to continue, on the edge of his proverbial seat.
"I dunno," you sighed tiredly. "Not the first time he's come to me for advice. He's a nice guy and he means well, but it just seems I'm always the one. And I'm happy to help just...not during Q4, you know? He needs to figure out how to talk to his ex on his own. And not just...come in looking for extra glossy strawberry lip gloss thinking he's gonna kiss his way back into their good graces."
Extra glossy strawberry lip gloss.
Eddie wondered if he was pushing his luck if he were to ask if this nice guy was dressed in a Santa suit.
Still his heart soared nonetheless. He should have known that it was nothing to worry about, that those little shits just put two and two together to make five, and that mom wasn't actually kissing Santa Claus.
It was just a misunderstanding.
"How was your night?" you backed away from him slightly to look into his eyes. "I feel like I haven't seen you in days."
It was like a weight on his chest had been lifted, as he stared into your sparkling eyes.
"Same old, same old," he chuckled away the doubt. "Probably worse because no one knows what they want to give as gifts for Christmas and they're not listening to me."
"How dare they not take the advice of the great God of Music!" you feigned outrage.
"Gonna give me an inflated ego, sweetheart."
"You mean you don't already have one?" you teased.
Whatever fleeting bits of doubt remained disappeared as his fingers found your sides and he tickled you as punishment for the jab. Even more so as you grabbed his face and kissed him to get him to stop.
---
You'd spent the remainder of your break on Wednesday night softly kissing on the loading dock. You held hands as he walked you back to your store. Then once the mall was closed, you continued the kissing against the side of his van in the employee lot as the rest of the cars disappeared one by one.
With one last kiss goodbye, you agreed to Christmas movies and cocoa at his place on Sunday.
But as he sauntered into the mall on Sunday morning, twirling his lanyard on his finger as he headed to Tape World, Eddie swore that the universe was mocking him--
Or it was just that trademark Munson Bad Luck.
--because with a quick glance up towards your store, he saw you, holding the gate up with one arm, talking and laughing with someone conspicuously dressed in a Santa suit.
Well, he couldn't really see the holly jolly bastard that was up there making you smile, but just a quick glimpse of red velvet and white fur and all of his doubt was back.
The two of you still hadn't put a label on your relationship yet. He'd wondered the other night as he drove home if it was a little juvenile to want to call you his girlfriend. Was it too high school? What did a real life, grown up boyfriend do? He only had TV shows to go by and he figured you'd laugh if he tried to give you his '84 class ring that was stashed in his sock drawer. In fact, he was sure of it.
But how was he supposed to get past the visceral need to be your boyfriend when you were up there being wooed into potentially becoming the new Mrs. Claus yourself?
By Santa Harrington no less.
The doubt was back with a vengeance.
Kyle--decked in red onesie pajamas, butt flap and all--clocked his woes as soon as he walked into the store.
"Don't tell me she broke up with you," he guessed as he counted up the registers for the day. "I know it's not the end of the world, but you guys barely got started. What the hell did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" Eddie answered honestly as he restocked the front display.
"Hmmm, actually come to think of it, that might be exactly the point."
"I don't think we were ever together, if I'm being honest."
"Dumbass," Kyle chuckled under his breath. Eddie, exasperated and just needing someone to commiserate with, explained the whole thing to his boss, who simply ate it up like a gossiping housewife and then laughed louder. "No seriously, you're a dumbass. This is the Mall at Christmas, dude. You're gonna start going cross eyed if you're looking around every corner for a suspicious Santa Claus flirting with your girl.
"Why don't you save yourself some heartache and just talk to her. You know, like you should have been doing this whole time? So, one time only because you're my buddy, I'm letting you take an extra break so you can go up there and talk to her."
And Eddie knew Kyle was right: it was all about communication.
Communication, or the lack thereof, was how the two of you had gotten this far, right? You'd known each other since May? June? And had only figured out that there was some mutual attraction in...what? September if Eddie was going to be honest with himself. Two weeks ago if he wasn't.
Lack of communication, caused by self doubt and fear, cost him...months...of getting to kiss you and hold your hand. And while he cherished the time spent being your friend, he was always gonna wish he had all that time being more.
So no, he shouldn't let it draw out much longer.
---
Unfortunately, he really was a dumbass.
So instead of taking advantage of it being so early in the day that there were practically no customers in the mall to go upstairs and clear things up with you and maybe ask you out on a real date...
Eddie booked it across the mall to Santa's Workshop.
There he stood, wasting his extra break in line with the handful of proactive parents coming in early to get their family pictures with the Big Man himself.
"What's on your wish list this year?" A little boy in a tiny navy suit tugged on the leg of his jeans and asked him.
"Uh..." He was at a loss when it came to kids and his hands wrung around his lanyard. But he couldn't just leave the little guy hanging. "A new amp...and maybe a Skeletor action figure."
The boy's eyes got wide and blabbered on about his desired Castle Greyskull while his mom ran a comb through his hair.
"Eddie?"
Eddie froze and his attention shifted from the kid, up and up green velvet clad legs then torso, to a familiar cherubic face and tousled curls covered by a pointy hat.
"Gareth?" he chuckled, staring incredulously at his friend dressed as one of Santa's Helpers. "...what is this? I didn't know you..." his eyes slid down to the little boy, then back to his friend. "...were an elf."
"I was trying to keep it under the radar," he shrugged and gestured down to his costume. "Especially since they have me dressed like this. Uh....anyway, why are you in line for Santa?"
"Uhh..." Eddie scratched the back of his neck then folded his arms across his chest. "Gotta get my wishlist in before all the good gifts are taken."
Gareth narrowed his eyes in suspicion and Eddie hoped that he would just chalk it up as another one of the million things he'd seen Eddie do over the years of their friendship.
"Can I keep the picture?" Gareth finally asked mischievously. "Or was Wayne planning on sending out a special card this year?"
"Nah man," Eddie nodded, grateful not to have to answer any more...invasive questions. "It's all yours."
"Nice." Gareth held his fist out for Eddie to bump and then let the family ahead of Eddie in to see Santa.
Which meant he was next.
Now, Eddie wasn't big on confrontation, so unless he was actively thwarting bullies and deterring them from picking on his friends, he wasn't the type to pick a fight. He also wasn't the type to have a calm and rational discussion and get to the bottom of a problem either.
So this was new territory for him.
What would he say?
What could he say?
"Now listen here Harrington," he muttered. "You...she...I..."
He ran a hand over his face and shook his head.
"I heard you're having some relationship issues," he tried again. "But you can't keep sniffing around my girl. My girl? Ugh...but what if she isn't."
There were a few flashes of a camera and by that time, Gareth was back to lead him to his execution.
"Alright, young man," he snickered. "Are you ready to meet Santa?"
"Shut up," Eddie shoved him and stalked along the carpet into the little photo area.
He was too preoccupied with the task at hand, too consumed with thoughts of you laughing with Steve Harrington and exactly what he was gonna say, that he didn't notice that it wasn't Steve under the beard and hat until he plopped himself directly on Santa's lap.
Santa groaned as Eddie settled himself and threw an arm over his shoulders.
"Aren't you a little too old for this Munson?" Santa deadpanned. "Or is this one of your little Hellfire pranks."
Eddie froze at the familiar voice, as years of hearing that grumbling gritty tone at Benny's and the police station and around town flashed through his memory.
"Hop?" he whispered in horror.
"Who were you expecting?" Hopper grunted.
"Why are you Santa?"
"...don't tell me you thought Santa Claus was real, kid?"
"No, I just--" Eddie stammered, looking for the right words. "I...Why?"
"I'm doing this to surprise Jane," he explained in exasperation. "Buddy of mine runs Santa's workshop and Joyce said she'd bring the kids to the mall today, maybe get a picture. So I pulled some strings. I don't know what to get her for Christmas; she's keeping her wish list under wraps."
It all started making sense for Eddie. Jane was friends with Dustin and the others so he'd seen her around Hawkins High, even though she wasn't interested in DnD. She was a good kid, if a little shy. Of course Hop was doing this for his adopted daughter, wanting to give her a perfect Christmas.
"But you...were up at Claire's earlier?" Eddie narrowed his eyes, the reason for him being there still eluding explanation.
"Because that's Jane's favorite store. I swear I'm single handedly keeping them in business with the number of earrings and scrunchies I buy every week. The manager promised she'd keep an eye out if Jane and Joyce popped in today, let me know everything Janie was looking at if this ended up being a bust."
Hopper shot Eddie a pointed glare and Eddie, correctly, looked ashamed of himself.
"Alright, less talking," the elf at the camera rolled their eyes and waved for Hop and Eddie to scoot closer. "More smiling. Say jingle!"
There was a flash and a polaroid was shoved into Eddie's hand as Hopper shooed him away.
---
"What is this?" you pulled away from Eddie's soft, warm lips as your hands felt something foreign in his back pocket.
The Year Without Santa Claus wasn't the most romantic Christmas movie, but Eddie was feeling a certain type of resentment when he had chosen the movies at Family Video, and it was mostly going ignored in favor of cuddling and kissing and sweet words.
Until your hands worked their way downward to pull Eddie's weight further into you, and you found--
"Did you go take a picture with Santa?" you giggled as you inspected the Polaroid. Eddie groaned and rested his head on your shoulder. "Can I keep this?"
"Believe it or not," he sighed, "Gareth already has dibs."
"May I ask why?"
"Because he likes to ruin my life. Pretty sure he's gonna take it to Fox Photos and get it made into t-shirts."
"No, why did you go take a picture with Santa silly," you shoved him. "It's really sweet."
He turned to look up into your eyes, to get the courage to just...tell you how silly he was being...to ask you out for fuck's sake...but the way you looked at him, the softness of your gaze, the way you reached out and pushed his bangs out of his eyes...he didn't want to ruin it all.
"I promised I was getting into the holiday spirit didn't I?" he shrugged pathetically. "Couldn't let the opportunity pass without getting photo evidence."
You stared fondly at the picture for another moment and then pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"It's perfect."
---
After Eddie had chickened out, you planned your get-togethers for the rest of December.
Or rather, the lack of them.
With finals coming up and the semester coming, and then mall hours getting later and later the closer to Christmas it got, the opportunities to hang out became sparse.
The best the two of you could unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it--come up with was Christmas Eve.
You'd fight off those final last-minute holiday shoppers, and come 6pm when the mall closed, you'd both be off to Benny's for the special pot roast dinner that he put up for anyone who didn't have family to go to, or didn't want to go see the family they had.
With Rick out making the rounds, and Wayne scheduled for that sweet time-and-a-half holiday double most years, Eddie usually ended up at Benny's anyway.
This year, with you, it would be perfect.
He just had to get through the next few weeks without a hiccup.
The universe, once again, decided to test him.
Mock him.
It was almost comedic at this point.
Santa was everywhere.
Of course, he would be, it was Christmastime but...everywhere in relation to you.
Thankfully, it wasn't Harrington he needed to worry about.
However, that meant it wasn't just Santa he needed to worry about.
It was all of the mall Santas.
Hop had shown his face in the red suit and beard once or twice more and scared the life out of him. Especially when Eddie walked smack into him on the way to drop an Orange Julius for you on the night you closed.
The church's community choir had spent one Saturday afternoon caroling by the Sears, all dressed as Santa Claus. As the two of you made your rounds window-shopping and chatting on your break, one of the Santas grabbed you and spun you around in a circle during a jazzy rendition of The 12 Days of Christmas where you, apparently, were the true love bestowing the many gifts.
How Eddie let a bunch of Santas serenade you before he got a chance to, he would never know. Nor would he let himself live it down.
And then one awful day, he found you sitting at your usual table in the food court with a charismatic older man in a Santa suit--sans hat or beard. The man sat in Eddie's usual seat and leaned quite close, making you look entirely uncomfortable; he couldn't help puff up his chest to ward off the intruder by the time he reached the table.
"This is Henry," you introduced as politely as you could. "He's gonna be the manager at the new Spencer's store when it opens in January."
"Figured I would do the neighborly thing and just say hi," he chuckled and looked down at his attire. "Oh? This? Figured that this would be a great way to do something nice for the community in the mean time."
"That's great," Eddie sniffed judgmentally, getting a weird feeling about this Henry. "Nice to meet you. You're in my spot though."
"Eddie!" Your eyes went wide and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter.
"Hey, nope, totally get it," Henry held his hands up and stood from the seat. "Those lunch breaks are short, especially when you want to spend them with friends and not a stranger like me. Nice to meet you guys. See you around."
Eddie dropped into his seat and you waited until Henry was well out of earshot to scold him.
"That was not nice."
"I'm not nice," Eddie grumbled. "He was looking at you weird, like he wanted to steal your soul or something. Did you not get creepy stalker murderer from him?"
"No, I totally did," you nodded. "He was like...dead behind the eyes. I know, that's awful to say. Anyway, are you feeling soft pretzels and cheese because I--"
"Are you a Santa magnet or something?" Eddie interrupted you and you looked like a deer in the headlights.
"What?" you giggled. "What do you mean?"
"I dunno," he shrugged. "Seems like they're just always around."
"It's Christmas, Eddie," you frowned in confusion. "Even I have a little Santa dress that I'm gonna wear to work. Everyone's just in the spirit."
"Yeah well..."
"I thought you were trying to get in the spirit too," you reminded him and then reached over and plucked at the fair isle sweater Kyle had gotten the whole TapeWorld team so they could match for a group picture. "Exhibit A, Mr. Grinch."
"I am trying," he whined. "It's just hard to be extra jolly when someone's always sniffing around your girl."
"Am I your girl?" you asked. You were obviously teasing him, but still...Eddie froze. "You haven't asked me if I want to be yet."
Everything inside of him was on red alert at that moment.
Evasive maneuvers? No, that was a bad idea. All power to the forward shields, which were holding but weakened. He didn't have enough firepower for this.
"No..." he replied awkwardly. "I haven't."
The way your expression dropped broke him, and he knew he had fucked up.
---
"I'm disowning you," Kyle shook his head in disappointment by the time Eddie got back from lunch. "In fact. We all are."
"Jesus Christ," Eddie groaned.
"Mitch! Paulie! Eddie's disowned."
"You can't fire him, he's closing tonight," Paulie argued.
"Not fired," Kyle pointed across the store with authority. "Disowned. And such a shame; Edward Tapeworldington, first of his name...you shall never be king."
Eddie stewed in the laughter of his coworkers.
"Why don't you ever listen to me?" Kyle threw an arm around his shoulder. "You could have asked her out right then and there. Been like 'hey you wanna be my girlfriend?' And it would have been like...the happiest day of your life. Hell, happiest day of my life. Cuz then I wouldn't have to hear you bitch about it all the time."
"Didn't know I complained that much," Eddie muttered self-consciously.
"All the time," one of the other guys chuckled.
"It's not complaining," Kyle corrected. "It's just that...we want you to be happy. As cliche as this sounds, we're like a family right? Hey, psst, all of you? Savor it, you're only gonna hear me say it once.
"If one of us is miserable, we're all miserable," he continued. "And you've been kind of a miserable piece of shit for a while, Ed. I'm sure your buddies would tell you the same thing. Lovesick puppy act's only gonna get you so much sympathy until you're the one getting in your own way."
Eddie felt his stomach turn because getting in his own way really did hit the nail on the head.
He thought about it for an eternity--really only 30 seconds--went about asking himself what had held him up for all this time. Fear of rejection obviously but even he started to think that some of the things that had gotten him so caught up were just...excuses.
Even now that he knew you liked him just the way he liked you, they were just excuses.
"So why can't I just...say something?" he finally asked.
Kyle clapped his hand down on Eddie's shoulder twice and then turned so he could head out for his own break.
"Only you can answer that question kid."
---
"Hey do you wanna go out sometime? Ugh."
So he practiced.
"So remember how we're supposed to go to Benny's for Christmas Eve? No."
For days he practiced.
"You know how the first time we went out for pizza I mentioned it wasn't a date? Well this one is. No god, you're an idiot."
Through the rest of the semester, during band practice, he even almost flubbed the lyrics at the gig at the Hideout on the Tuesday before Christmas. There were only so many days left until your dinner together at Benny's and he really wanted it to be your first official date.
But if Eddie was gonna fix this, if he was gonna ask you out, he needed to get it right.
"Hey sweetheart." He muttered as he counted down Paulie's register at the start of his closing shift. "I know I really flubbed it last time we talked but I really like you and I want to know if you'd be my girlfriend.
"We've already kissed enough for it," he added at the end and then winced.
"How about you just lose that last bit," Paulie offered beside him and signed a few receipts. "And then it's perfect."
"Yeah?" Eddie asked hopefully. "Alright. Cool. Great."
He would do it after work tonight.
"Edddiiiiieeee!!!" a screeching voice called from inside the mall and Eddie and Paulie both watched as a Santa with flailing arms ran into TapeWorld. "Eddie man, I really need a favor. I need to use your bathroom."
"What the f--Gareth?" Eddie looked around the store to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating. Gareth was already shedding the hat and the fake beard and unbuckling the wide belt from around his waist. "What the hell are you doing here? Why are you Santa? I thought you were an elf?"
"There's no time to explain," Gareth panted. "But there's a line through the food court to use the bathroom and I couldn't wait, so you either need to let me into your back room or I'm gonna exorcise a demon right here on your sales floor man. Please."
"Ugh," Eddie wrinkled his nose and pointed towards the stockroom. "Yeah, sure whatever. Gross."
"I owe you one," Gareth tossed the fluffy jacket of his costume over the counter at Eddie and then ran into the stockroom. Hopefully just in time.
"So glad I'm cleaning the bathrooms tomorrow night," Paulie scrunched his nose in disgust. "Alright, you and Mitch need anything before I go?"
Eddie was about to say no, was about to send Paulie on his way.
But then he looked down at the coat and got an idea.
An awful idea.
Eddie Munson got a wonderful, awful idea.
"Actually, now that you mention it," Eddie grinned and shrugged the coat on, then the belt, and as he glanced up at Paulie, his coworker groaned, clearly able to read Eddie's mind.
"I thought we agreed no more gimmicks," Paulie exclaimed. "You're just gonna go up and talk to her."
"Yeah," Eddie nodded. "I, Santa Claus, am gonna go up and talk to her. I'm not even gonna take my full break, just five minutes, and then you can leave."
"This isn't gonna work man."
"None of my plans ever do," Eddie shrugged and pulled Paulie into a big hug. "But if it does, I owe you my whole life."
And off he went, across the mall, and up the escalator. He adjusted the coat and the hat and then remembered that he forgot the beard on the counter.
No matter, of course; he really didn't want to get fake beard in his mouth when he planted one on you.
There was practically a line out the door by the time he got to your store. He was able to see you through the window, on the register checking one customer out after another.
You were in the zone, but you didn't look stressed. You smiled a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, but every so often Mindy would crack a joke beside you and it did.
"This actually might be the worst idea," he muttered to himself.
But it was too late.
It was now or never.
You were gonna kill him.
Some of the younger kids in the store started muttering in excitement when they spotted him, only for their parents to say "that's not the real Santa" and "Santa doesn't wear ripped jeans" but you were oblivious until he was standing right beside you at the counter.
"Excuse me," he took a breath and lowered his voice like he would during Hellfire. "I heard there was something special on your wish list this year, young lady."
"Sorry sir," you answered without a thought. "I'll be with you in a second."
"You can't even take a second to help jolly old Saint Nicholas?"
You turned your head, obviously about to tell him off as you schooled your features into something plastic and robotic and customer friendly, until you realized it was him. Then something visibly short-circuited in your brain and he smiled brightly.
"I'd like to apologize to all the boys and girls shopping tonight," he announced to the customers theatrically. "But I have very important Christmas business with our dear Store Manager here. It'll only take a minute."
He was surprised when a few of them started laughing and clapping.
"Alright Santa," you finally composed yourself to answer, arms crossing over your chest in annoyance. "What official Christmas business can I help you with?"
"Well, I was reading over the wishlist that you sent up to the North Pole," he explained. "I don't have it with me, you see. Had to leave it down in the workshop so the rest of the elves could work on the scrunchies and the lipgloss you wanted."
"Uh huh."
"And the new windshield wipers that you refuse to let Santa replace."
You rolled your eyes and waved your hand to get him to go on.
"But there was one thing on the list that...maybe it's these tired old eyes--"
"Old?" you giggled and reached out to tug on his curls. "Your hair isn't even white Santa."
A bunch of nearby kids boo'd.
"Clock's ticking," you whispered. "Get on with it, or I'm gonna have to kick you out Ed."
"--maybe these tired old eyes weren't able to read. See I thought it just said friend. But my trusty elves Kyle and Paulie and Mitch assure me it says boyfriend."
Mindy cooed an awww from beside you and Eddie felt his confidence grow.
"So, Miss Store Manager," Eddie held his hand out to you. "Which one is it? Because I happen to have some high quality...boyfriend material that I can use to make your wish come true. Is that what you'd truly like this Christmas?"
Mindy immediately slammed a hand onto your shoulder and squealed, and although your lips were clamped shut and nose was scrunched, Eddie was sure that you were holding back a smile.
It was the longest 30 seconds of his life.
"Yes, actually," you finally responded. "That's exactly what I want for Christmas Santa."
Eddie's heart surely grew 3 sizes in that very moment as a bunch of customers clapped. And he was eagerly about to jump forward and plant a kiss right on your lips when your hand slammed against his chest to hold him back.
You laughed and your eyes sparkled with promise as you pointed to the door, a silent understanding that you'd continue this conversation later. But for now?
"Get out of my store!"
---
Eddie found you leaning against the side of his van when he clocked out. Your car was parked beside his, running idle, as you waited. The radio softly played the Nutcracker Suite and you hummed along to it.
"Alright," he began when he got close enough. "I know that what I did was a big no-no, but I think everyone was in good spirits about it."
"You're lucky they were," you glared at him in--what he hoped was-- fake annoyance. "I really would hate it if my DM got a call complaining about that. Then I'd have to break up with you before we were actually even together."
"I wouldn't blame you," he winced and then looked down at his feet. "So...do you wanna go out sometime?"
"Like a date?"
"Yeah," he glanced up at you and then back down at his feet. He shuffled them back and forth. "Dinner at Benny's on the 24th? How does that sound."
"Ugh, I dunno," you sing-songed and took a few steps to close the distance between you. You grabbed the lapels of his jacket and shook him a few times.
"Wh-what are you doing?" he questioned as you lifted his hair and turned his head back and forth.
"I'm looking to see if this was the quality boyfriend material that Santa just promised me a few hours ago."
"Hey now," he grabbed your hands in his. "I most certainly am. We've just...been friends for so long. I didn't know if..."
"I do," you answered before he could finish.
"But what if I..."
"You aren't."
"I was gonna say 'what if I fart under the blankets while we're cuddling.'" He deadpanned. "See, this is why it's important not to make assumptions."
"Alright, Fartmeister," you challenged him. "If you want to Dutch Oven your girlfriend, I guess I can't fight you. But don't be shocked when I do the same thing to you eventually."
"That's all I want from a girlfriend," he said. "A strong sense of retaliation and justice."
"Alright then."
"Alright." He shook your hand like you were making some kind of deal. "Christmas Eve at Benny's for our first date."
"Sounds perfect," you agreed.
"Good."
"Good."
You launched yourself in his arms and pressed your lips to his and he swore, probably for the first time in his life, he believed in the spirit of Christmas.
---
Next Chapter: Standard Operating Procedures 1.06
246 notes · View notes
wordsinhaled · 1 year
Text
so after that devastating ask neil answered about morpheus and calliope’s wedding i was suddenly beset by a MIGHTY need for a dreamling fix-it so... this is that. part headcanon post, part fic, entirely more than i was planning on it being. it got just a bit out of hand and is possibly a bit too sappy but i'm not sorry!!!
-
Hob introduces Morpheus to his longtime friends and colleagues after they’ve been together for a year. Morpheus carries the suspicion that Hob only agrees to wait this long for love of him.
He’s so excited about it, because he loves Dream, and it brings him the utmost happiness to imagine his friends, his loved ones, the people he works with, his students, getting to meet Dream—who hung the moon, as far as Hob’s concerned.
Dream is... less than enthusiastic about it. He hedges about going out for drinks with Hob’s friends, and he’s cagey about agreeing to be Hob’s plus one to the first department mixer Hob’s thrilled to invite him to. He still goes to these things, because Hob is his beloved and he sees how it lights Hob up to have him by his side at them. He’s the picture of gentility each time; shows up looking incredible, asks all the right questions, says all the right things, makes the small talk. He even personally ensures all of these people have pleasant dreams for a week following, for good measure.
But afterwards, he’s always a mess. Tense, withdrawing into himself.
After the third time this happens, Hob cottons on and asks him about it.
“What is it, love? My friends, or my colleagues, do they bother you?”
“On the contrary. Your friends and your coworkers are as lovely as you are, of course. Well—I must admit Dr. Halliwell is... not my favorite, but... by and large.”
“Oh, he’s no one’s favorite. Bloody insufferable, he is. Alright, well, is there anything I ought to be doing differently? To help make you feel more comfortable?" "You are utterly blameless in this, Hob." "That's..." Hob sighs. "A relief, I suppose. But there is something. And if it’s not that, then...?”
And little by little, it comes out. How the last time Morpheus was as serious about someone as he is about Hob, the last time he was serious enough to want to bind himself to someone... her friends and family opposed it. Opposed him. Thought him entirely ill-suited for her. And on their wedding day, the happiest of days, he was so excited to share his joy with his own family, and none of Calliope’s side were there.
“That’s awful,” Hob says, with a few choice swears thrown in for emphasis. “And it must have been hard for her, too.”
“I believe it is a loneliness she still carries. One far greater than my own.”
~*~
It comes out that Morpheus wants to introduce Hob around, too. Wants to bring Hob to family dinner with his siblings and have Hob with him to receive delegations. How he wants Hob to sit beside him in the throne room of the Dreaming. And how Dream wants to know all Hob’s friends, his little found family of students, his colleagues at the university, his neighbors. How he wants to belong in the life Hob has built for himself.
Yet surely, this is bound to end in disaster, too. Surely he is ill-suited for Hob as well, and surely all of those closest to Hob can see it. Are thinking it to themselves. Are biding their time to tell Hob I told you so.
“But... you’ve got to know everyone adores you. They’re always wondering when they’ll see you next. My students are always asking after you. Everyone tells me we're great together, actually. Never seen me happier, wanting to bake things for you, insisting I bring you along to the next thing—all of it."
"Then it is only a matter of time." "Until what?" "Calliope's family were not exactly... incorrect about me, in the end."
"So... what—you think you're ill-suited to me?"
"I am ill-suited to love."
And of course Hob can't have Dream thinking that. It just isn't true.
So he goes out of his way to be even more vocal about the things Morpheus does that are appreciated. To remind him he is loved. To remind him he is welcomed. To remind him just how well-suited he is to Hob, and how much he fits into Hob's life.
So-and-so says hello, he tells Dream, multiple times per week. Hob stops politely turning down the biscuits his favorite TA sends along, and they've always got a note taped onto the Tupperware ("For you and Morpheus") that Hob makes sure Dream sees. (If Morpheus secrets the little Post-Its away in one of the inner pockets of his coat and Hob never sees them again, well, all the better for Dream to keep them.)
~*~
Hob brings Dream to sit in on his knitting circle one week at the New Inn. All his friends are so excited to have Dream model their scarves and gloves and shawls and cardigans. Morpheus stands there for all of it obligingly, feeling the dreams in each and every one of the stitches.
"Brigitte wants to know what you'd like for your birthday," Hob says to Dream one day, after he runs into his neighbor, who is also in the group, and is held up ten minutes by her asking.
"I do not have a birthday," Morpheus says. "Not as such."
"Yeah, but they all don't know that, do they?" Hob grins, cajoling. "Let her give you something."
"What should I ask for?"
"Well, she is getting on a bit, so nothing too adventurous. She usually just knits me something every year. We could just tell her your favorite color." Hob pauses for dramatic effect. "...What's your favorite color?"
"You jest, I hope." "Right," Hob says, voice full of stifled laughter. "I'll tell her. Nothing but black as the deepest midnight for my darling."
Morpheus wears the resulting jumper, a drapey, soft comfort, constantly; and when the armpits pill and if it ever even approaches becoming threadbare he fixes it gingerly with yarn woven of finely-sifted stardust; and Brigitte has only the best dreams of exactly what she wishes to dream about for the rest of her life. It is the least gift he can give her in return.
~*~
When Morpheus finally invites Hob to visit the Dreaming, Hob comes with an easy smile for even the smallest nightmare and an ear to bend for every dream he meets. He brings a profound and open curiosity for everything about the place. Everyone is charmed. Hob is so regular that some of them are baffled. But Lord Morpheus' happiness rolls off him in tangible waves when he is around Hob Gadling. The denizens of the Dreaming can feel that their lord is lighter than he has been in literal ages of his existence.
Everything in the realm is in fragile bloom for the first time in a very long time. The sunshine is resplendent. The air is balmy. Birds sing in the palace orchards. Hardly so much as a drop of rain dares to fall for weeks.
~*~
The first time Hob is invited to a soiree in the Dreaming he frets about his outfit for days on end.
Morpheus is privately amused by it. "You do recall this event is being held in the Dreaming," he says, sprawled on Hob's bed, watching him pass the fabric of two of his bowties between his fingers, one tie black as night and one so dark a navy it could almost pass for black as well. "You do not actually have to dress for it in the Waking. Your dream-self will simply manifest your preferred attire." Hob just scoffs at him. "Of course. But my imagination's got to start somewhere, right? I don't want to accidentally manifest pyjamas with ducks on them just in time to meet bloody Oberon because my mind forgot what a good suit looks like. Can you imagine?"
"I would not allow you to experience any embarrassment in my realm," Morpheus says, possibly with undue vehemence.
Hob glances over at him. "I know, love."
And the ties go forgotten after that.
~*~
“I’ve got something for you,” Hob tells Dream, one day. 
They are in Hob’s living room, sitting on the couch together, Morpheus adrift on a veritable sea of throw pillows. He could, he thinks idly, craft these exact pillows in the Dreaming, replicate their heft and the give of sinking into them, and still they would not offer him such ease. 
“Hob Gadling,” he says, disguising his delight rather poorly, he thinks. “You should not have.”
But Hob is already slipping to his knees on the rug in front of Dream, already pulling a small box from behind his back with a flourish, with the sleight of hand of long-abandoned habit. “Shouldn’t I?” he asks. “You deserve beautiful things."
Morpheus stares at the ruby ring, nestled on its little velvet cushion, for so long and so intently that Hob starts to sweat.
"I know it's been a long time," he says. "For both of us."
Morpheus is still staring.
"Fuck, I had an entire speech planned. Rehearsed it and everything. Gideon told me it was brilliant. But now it's like all the good words've been knocked right out of my skull. All I can think is—I hope you don't run off in the middle of me asking you to marry me." "I will not run off," Morpheus says.
"Good," Hob says. "That's good."
~*~
Morpheus is nervous, at first, about telling people. There is a part of him that wants to hold this joy inside his heart, hoard the buoyant sensation of being loved by Hob Gadling like it is a precious commodity that will disintegrate if he lets it out.
But Hob is generous with his love. He reminds Morpheus of it constantly.
“Dream,” Hob says, one morning, propping his chin on Morpheus’ bare chest to gaze at him. “You’re my fiancé.”
Warmth tingles through Morpheus’ body. “I am,” he says.
“I’m your fiancé,” Hob goes on, and now he’s grinning so wide Morpheus is sure his cheeks must ache. “God, am I really?”
“You are,” he promises, with a little swoop of something like fear, or elation, or both. Surely he cannot just have this joy. It cannot be so simple.
“I am,” Hob says, “the luckiest person in all creation.” He says it as earnestly as if he’s saying a vow, right there in their bed.
Hob’s exuberance is contagious, and Morpheus finds that his own smile comes to his mouth unbidden.
Perhaps it could be so simple if he allows it to be.
~*~
Hob is sitting at the kitchen table, addressing invitations to their engagement party, working his way through a stack of fifty laid paper envelopes. Morpheus sits sprawled in his customary chair next to Hob’s, observing.
“That is a great many people,” he says, plucking the pen from Hob’s fingers once he finishes the current envelope and setting it down before taking Hob’s hand in his, kneading the tension from his palm. “Are you certain they should all be in attendance?”
Hob looks up from where he’s scrutinizing his own calligraphy. He must catch something in Morpheus’ tone, because his face softens from surprise into concern. “Only if you want, love,” Hob says. “You know I’d elope with you tomorrow, if you preferred that.”
“Would that bring you happiness?” Thinking on it, Morpheus is unsure it would bring him happiness, now that it is being offered as an option. Strong as the greedy part of him that wants to hoard their love is, there is also the part of him that hungers for it to be known. To be seen. To be shown.
Hob’s brows knit together, then smooth out again. “I admit there’s a part of me that wants to shout about all this from the rooftops.” He laughs softly. “And there are a lot of people who are happy for us, you know. But—” And here he turns his hand in Morpheus’, so he can hold it properly. “I want you to be comfortable. I could marry you in this kitchen and not tell a soul til after—”
“I wish to have the party,” Morpheus announces, because it is, he finds, true. “And I wish to have a ceremony. Here. And one in the Dreaming.”
“Two ceremonies?” Hob’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Now you’re just being extravagant.”
Morpheus huffs. “You have seen nothing yet of my extravagance.”
He feels none of his usual trepidation at admitting it.
~*~
Their ceremony in the Dreaming is an intimate one. The castle is resplendent with flowers, and the twilight twinkles with stars and carries a hint of magic.
Morpheus presents Hob with a crown made of dreamstuff and a mantle lined with stardust much like the inside of his own coat. Lucienne gives Hob his own key to the library. He dances with Gault in the palace gardens, face lit by the auroras rippling through her wings. The new Corinthian swears to protect him. Matthew perches on Hob’s shoulder almost the entire rest of the evening.
Late in the night, Morpheus and Hob excuse themselves to walk together in the fields of the Dreaming, and to kiss beneath the endless sky.
A fraction of the tightness in Morpheus dissipates, having Hob here. Having him welcomed by his realm. Having his own choice so honored, and Hob so loved.
~*~
There are fifty people at their engagement party in the Waking world, and two hundred at their Waking wedding reception. Most of them are from Hob's side. By the end of the evening Morpheus’ hand is sore from being wrung so many times by well-wishers, he is surprisingly tipsy off surprisingly good champagne on which Hob had spared no expense, and he feels slightly effervescent himself, even in this Waking body.
The gifts table creaks under the weight of all the presents—many of them handmade. There is a hand-painted portrait and a hand-thrown ceramic bowl and a hand-knit blanket for his and Hob’s bed and a crocheted sweater for the dog they do not yet have together. There is a queue to sign the guestbook.
He drifts in the pleasant dreams their guests have for them—Hob’s fellow professors, his research assistants, his former students, his neighbors, his knitting group, his landlord, his philosophy discussion club. These people dream of happiness for Hob; of happiness for them; of happiness for him. There is love in their hearts for Hob, and now, by extension, a new love for Morpheus.
The rest of the old weight lifts from his shoulders that night, as Hob beams down at him, and kisses him long and slow, and whispers “I love you” while his patchwork of family—their family, now—whoop and holler and clap.
2K notes · View notes
skunkox · 2 months
Text
Darlin's Jacket Headcanon
Been sitting on this for weeks , so just hear me out rq.
Dalrin's jacket was a gift from Asher. It was a present to cheer them up while they were on punishment when they were young. Possibly a birthday? Grades? Faught a kid? Embarrased their parents in front of the pack? Havent worked out the details.
It's a letterman jacket from a band they were really into. But the issue? It's a gooddam Unisex XXL, and the twerp of a Tank is like, barley 14 with not real muscle mass yet. My Tank at least is 13 when they make the move and join the pack in Dahlia while the main shaw pack kids are 14.
▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎
"Ash. Remind me again why you dragged us to Hot Topic." Milo asked, reluctantly following a brace faced Asher into the cramped, and dim lit store.
"Cause Half-pint, your comrad in short arms has been looking miserable. Or at least, more so than normal." Asher snickered, slowly getting more, and more side tracked as he wandered farther into the store. It wasn't long before David grabbed the boy by his collar and dragged him to the back of the store. Milo flashed him a cocky grin while Asher stumbled behind David.
"We got a problem. You said it was this one, right? It's too big." David released Asher to nealty pick up the jacket. "I mean, I know it's the thought that counts, but it's just not practical, Ash."
Asher was already looking through the piles. Wanting to be 100% sure they weren't missing anything. Starting to feel defeated. There was no way Asher was going to ask the clerk if there would be another shipment. Nor would he be willing to wait for a possible restock. Milo looked at his friend. He could tell those puppy dog eyes were gonna start bulging soon. A huff escaped his lips, and he stood straight with his hands on his hips. Trying to seem cool and a little bit taller.
"It's not like they're done growin'. And a jackets a jacket. If it's coverin', it's good." Milo couldn't stop the noogie barreling his way.
•●•●•●•
The handoff was swift. Just as the troublemaker was mounting their skateboard outside their middle school's gate, a familiar truck rolled up. From the truck's bed, Asher gave a quick "Heads up!" Before giving the equivalent of a basketball pass with a heavy black bag. A cackle could be heard, and the truck road off. Leaving them bamboozled.
It wasn't until Tank got home that they viewed the contents of the bag. The biggest, and goofiest smile spread across their face. They couldn't give two fucks about the size. It was from their favorite band. It was a gift. Someone cared enough to gift them something. Anything. But the fact that the few times they did speak, they were actually listened too. It nearly brought the runt to tears. It did. They won't admit it though. That's just embarrassing.
Really embarrassing. They were given a jacket by a boy. An upper classmen boy. A boy who was a part of their pack. Who they'd have to face on a regular basis. They did the jacket at the back of their closet. Still in it bag.
The disappointment in Asher's face really couldn't be hidden. Mostly for the fact that though the week of quick pass bys,they didn't wear the jacket. But he noticed at their next pack meeting, they'd give small waves now. Small smiles were attempted. This continued until Tank would inevitably start sitting near Asher during meetings. Or willingly go on group outing. This snowballed to the occasional video game or movie hangouts.
Still mostly lingering around Ash, or him leaning on them. When he did so, Tank would get flustered. But in true Tank fashion, would give his sides a punch or his legs a kick. Never hard enough to leave heavy bruises. What can I say? They play hard.
As oblivious to this Asher was, it was almost too embarrassing a site for the other second gen pack members. Cristian would poke his fun while Asher was away before Amanda could put him in check. Milo genuinely wanted to see how things would play out. David called them the "Disaster Duo" for a long while.
In true 2008 middle schooler cringe, Tank was convinced that the might have had the tiniest crush on Asher. But they denied it. Denied it so much that the others couldn't be convinced it wasn't true. There were lots of little arguments that summer. But Tank would immediately shut up when ever Asher came around.
•●•●•●•
Freshman year was something......
The teasing started to get out of hand. Asher would definitely hear the snickers and teasing. Especially now that it was directed towards him by his classmates. Asher would deny it during classes and lunches that they were just his "Lil Buddy." It's not like he really helped the situation. Hitting a growthspurt over the summer, it was easy to see him from down the hall. He'd wave and call Tank's name out into the crowd. His little buddy was drawing in a sea of students.
He'd elped them get to their classes by becoming a meat shield. Tank was just barely able to keep up. Asher once thought I'd be funny if he could heave them over his shoulder like a cheap, stringed gym bag. Tank was flustered but kicked and punched all the same.
The teasing one again grew when Tank finally decided to wear the damn jacket during school pictures. Not wanting to be remembered in the preppy outfit their parent picked out for then, they stowed the jacket away in their backpack.
The little smile on Asher's face couldn't have been bigger when he saw them in it. He was on his way to take pictures, and Tank was headed back to class. He pulled them off to the side of a couple half functioning vending machines.
"Sooooo? How're liking the jacket? I know it's too big but you said you like listening to the band. That, and I've never not seen it in your discman. I'm sorry I got it so big. It was t-." Asher's lip got stuck on a braces bracket, and he began to fumble his words. Quickly second-guessing if Tank even really liked the damn thing.
Giggling could be heard from a couple kids passing by. A light shove was made by another to Ash. A quick "Dork." was thrown his way. Heat rose in his face. In Tank's too. But out of frustration. Asher didn't do anything wrong. He was just trying to be a good friend.
And it clicked for the freshman. Why overthink and cause trouble for Asher if they could be a friend? That could be comfortable. They wouldn't have to avoid him like an unwanted puppy. He'd been their friend. Or at least trying to be. Shit didn't have to be weird.
"Hell yeah, bro! It really saved my ass today. My parents wanted me to look like some sort of outstanding citizen or some shit. Can't wait till I can bulk up some, though. I'll totally be able to take on David one on one." Tank beamed and jabbedAsher in the arm with quick fist. This was the loudest they had ever been as far as he knew. His goofy ass grin was back on his face. Before Asher could get out a word, Tank ran past him.
"Thanks dude!" They called out from the crowd, not looking back and focusing on making it through the herd of upper classmem.
•●•●•●•
The following years, Tank continued being bro-y with Asher. He laid off of a lot of physical contact in turn. But this was comfortable for them. Not real close like he was with the others but it was what Tank wanted. They seemed happier that way.
Tank absolutely wore the jacket every chance they got. Around their waist if need be. Ruined absolutely every single yearbook photo. Every pack meeting. Every fight. Even when they felt there was no one to run to for comfort. That jacket had been through hell and back. However, you can only stich fabric so many times.
It looks ratty, but there is no way they're giving it up any time soon. Even if hugs are always offered or dare I say mandatory.
Tank was now yelling at Asher for kicking their controller from their hands during their match of Mario Kart. Hands were thrown, but carefully so. The group of 8 were hanging out at David and Angel's after all. There was no way either of the two were willing to take beating from David. At the very least, another ban from the house. Laugher roared in the home from all sides. Of course, Sweetheart, being an opertunist, took first place of that round.
David and Sam had been in the kitchen, taking a break from the roundy bunch. He had asked Tank about the jacket on multiple occasions, but never gave a straight answer. He'd at least wanted to get it professionally fixed up. Tank had gotten used to all the stains and tears. Saying it was like "The scar that protected their scars." And was proud of it for always being there.
David was willing once again, shed a little light on the troublemaker. Sam let out a chuckle. The next round was starting, and he wanted to make sure he wouldn't be playing doctor that night. The two men returned. David taking his corner seat next to Angel. Same made his way to the recliner. His Darlin' not missing a beat, taking a seat on the beanbag they claimed earlier in the night between their mate's legs. All the while, raspberries were exchanges between them and Asher from across the room. His own mate laughing at their childsh antics.
This was all the comfort they could ask for.
▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎
Jacket really be a security blanket, tho. Sorry for the shit grammar. Caught some kind of cold, and my vision is absolute shit.
Bromance anyone?
134 notes · View notes