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#few days ago i told my mom that he and i have literally nothing to talk about
roosterforme · 9 months
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Batting Practice Part 29 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: It was your wedding day, and Bradley realized he was getting everything he wanted... not just a perfect wife, but a perfect family of three. After exchanging vows and promises, you and Everett take him home, because there's something important you want to ask him. 
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing
Length: 3900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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"I can't believe you're getting married tomorrow," Molly said from the spot where she was lounging in the middle of your bed eating tortilla chips dipped in marshmallow fluff. "I remember when you married Danny. God, you looked fucking miserable that day."
"I was miserable that day. Young and stupid, too. Thanks for reminding me." You tried to take the bag of chips away as you said, "I hate crumbs in my bed. Can't you at least sit on the floor or something?"
She whined and reached for the bag. "It's not for me! It's for the baby. Now be a nice auntie and let me have my little snack."
You weren't sure of all the details of what had gone down. All you knew was Molly and Bob were still together, and she was keeping the baby. Apparently there had been some pleading on his end. Molly said he begged her not to leave him, and then he promptly told her about a million times how much the idea of having a child with her thrilled him. And slowly but surely, over the past few weeks, she seemed to become attached to the idea of being a mom.
"Fine," you sighed, handing her the chips. "Have your snack. But just remember, I'm not doing it for you."
"The baby thanks you," she said, rubbing her tiny bump as she shoved four chips into her mouth. "I wonder what the guys are up to," she said after she was done chewing.
"Watching the Phillies game. Or at least that's what Bradley texted me a few minutes ago."
"Give me your phone! You're not supposed to be talking to him! Bob was supposed to hide Bradley's phone under our bathroom sink. My god, I can't trust him to do anything right," she said with a soft smile on her face. She yanked your phone away and tucked it behind her back. "Now try on your dress one more time. Your tits look so good in it."
"I need you to zip it. Go wash your hands."
She rolled her eyes so hard, it was like she was fifteen years old again, and then she went into your bathroom like she was told. "What's it like living with Bradley?" she asked, moving his stuff around on the counter. "Does he like belch all the time and scratch himself?"
You started laughing as you tried to pull your dress on. "No! He's perfect. It feels like he's always been here. He takes care of almost everything for Ev, and he's actually quite tidy." You skipped over all the parts where you and he had been making love all over the house just because you could, but you did add, "I love having him with us."
Molly turned around and smirked as she came to zip your dress. "If I ever marry Bob, which I might not!" she said, cutting off your excited look. "If I do though, it'll be in the middle of a wildflower meadow just after sunset. And I'll make my own bouquet with the flowers beforehand. Oh, and I'll have to make sure Bob takes his allergy pills. But it'll be so dreamy."
You were gaping at her in the mirror as she zipped the dress. "Really?" you asked, flabbergasted. "That's literally nothing like what I thought you were going to say."
Molly sighed and made her way back to the bag of chips. "It's these fucking hormones. Fuck! I want to get married in the middle of some flowers now! What the hell?" She was wiping at her eyes as she told you, "Pull your dress down a little bit. I'm telling you, Bradley won't even be able to focus on the ceremony with your boobs looking like that."
"The ceremony is only going to be like ten minutes long. If that," you reminded her. But damn, she was right. This dress fit you very well. "Thanks for having an emotional breakdown in the middle of the dress shop and kind of forcing me to buy this dress after I sat on the floor with it on."
She smiled at you as she dipped a chip into the fluff. "That's literally what I'm here for."
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The following morning, Bradley pulled up to Petco Park with Bob and Everett in the Bronco just as the sun started to warm everything up for the day. He was getting married in an hour and a half. He felt jittery, but he wasn't nervous. He felt warm, but he wasn't uncomfortable. He felt like everything was the way he never knew, until very recently, that he wanted it to be. 
"Ready, kiddo?" he asked Everett as he opened the back door. Everett scrambled into his arms and wrapped him in a hug around the neck.
"Yep!" he replied, and then the three of them were making their way into the Players Only Entrance where a security guard was waiting for them. "This is so cool," Everett whispered. The ballpark was basically deserted since the game didn't start until three o'clock, and they only passed a few other staff members as they entered the Padres locker room.
"Remember that fun tour we went on?" Bradley asked Everett as Bob held the door for them. He kissed his stepson on the cheek before setting him down on one of the benches. 
Everett muttered, "Yeah," as he looked all around the room in awe. "But we went in the visiting team locker room."
Bradley laughed and looked around as well. "We sure did, because we wanted to see all the Phillies gear."
"Can we all go to Philadelphia?" Everett asked.
"Well, Philadelphia made it to the short list of vacation spots when I talked to your mom. We'll work on her. We already got a Phillies room out of her."
Everett was smiling nonstop as the three of them changed into their baseball jerseys in the same room where the Padres players would be putting on their uniforms in a few hours for their game against the Rockies. Bradley checked himself out in the mirror. They all matched, more or less, in their white jerseys with gold stitching and letters. Molly had been in charge of ordering them from a small boutique shop. Everett's said GRAND SLAM on the back. Bob's just said BOB. And Bradley's said GROOM; he was a little surprised his didn't come back saying TURD-IN-LAW to be honest. 
When the security guard poked his head inside and said, "You can go out onto the field now," Bradley's heart started pounding. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he put his Phillies cap on backwards. Then he put Everett's on him backwards and picked him up again. 
"I love you, Ev," he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes. Bradley was in some ways more emotional about becoming Everett's stepdad than he was about marrying you. Because it was like a bonus. A little extra responsibility he never planned for. Falling in love with you was one thing, but this was something else entirely. Every time he looked at his kid, he saw innocent trust returned to him, and all Bradley wanted to do was make him feel safe and loved.
"I love you, Dad," he replied, like it was already the most natural thing in the world. And Bradley supposed it was. Because the two of them seemed to be cut from the same cloth. And Bradley was more than happy to step into the role of a father for this child.
When Bradley turned to Bob, he asked, "You have the rings?"
"In my pocket," he promised, and then the three of them were on their way. They walked quietly through the tunnel and out onto the turf. Everything smelled fresh, like grass and damp earth. Everett's head was on a swivel, looking all around, just like when they took the ballpark tour months ago. 
They were being waved over to home plate by John, their tour guide from that very special day. "It's nice to see you again," he said, shaking hands with Bradley. "I've just been informed that your bride is on her way up from the other locker room."
"Thanks," Bradley muttered, anxious to see you and be with you. He held onto Everett a little tighter as they waited, and he laughed softly. Somehow you managed to pull off this wedding, and the fact that Jake was the one who helped you do it was almost too funny.
"Hi, Mommy!" Everett called, waving his hand as Bradley whirled around to find you walking out onto the infield. A strangled noise escaped him as you made your way closer with a soft smile on your lips. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. It was the only word to describe the day and how he felt and how you looked with Molly holding the bunched up bottom of your wedding dress.
"Kitten," he whispered, feeling short of breath as you joined him on home plate. Your dress was simple but beautiful, and Bradley wasn't ashamed to admit that he couldn't stop glancing at your tits. But it was the smile on your face that had him grinning, too.
When you leaned in to kiss Everett's cheek, Bradley took your chin in his palm and tried to kiss you. "Stop it!" Molly screeched as she finished straightening out your wedding dress. Bradley froze as she added, "You're not supposed to kiss her until John says it's time! Have you never been to a wedding before?"
"I'm so happy I'm gaining not only a wife and son today, but also such a lovely sister-in-law," he told her in response. 
Molly smiled sweetly at him. "You should be delighted."
"Can we get married now?" you asked with a laugh, and Bradley set Everett gently down next to home plate. 
"It's the only reason I'm here," he promised, taking your hands in his. "To marry my beautiful Kitten and live happily ever after."
You smiled at him as he pulled you a little closer. Everett was practically standing between the two of you, so excited for what was to come, and Bob and Molly stood next to John.
"Ready?" When everyone nodded, John said a few words about how he was pleased that he could perform this short ceremony today after being the one who gave them the tour of Petco Park. He told them that they made him smile so many times that day as they interacted with each other. And then he asked if you and Bradley wanted to say anything to each other.
"I'll go first," you said, ducking your head for a beat before you looked Bradley in the eyes. "The first day we met...the first day of tee ball...I took one look at you interacting with Everett, and I thought maybe there was a small chance that it wouldn't have to be just the two of us forever." You let go of Bradley's left hand and smiled at Everett as you ran your fingers along his cheek. "Not that there was anything wrong with the two of us, Ev. You know that, right?"
Everett nodded and told you, "I know."
"We were so close to perfect. But Bradley makes us even better," you said, looking up to meet his eyes again. You studied him for a beat, and Bradley watched your eyes fill with tears. "It's hard to explain how you make me feel so confident, when at the same time, you make me feel like you'll be strong when I can't."
"Kitten," he whispered, wiping your tears as they fell. 
"I love you, Coach," you said with a soft laugh through your watery eyes that had him smiling and shaking his head. "You belong with us."
"I really do," he agreed. 
"Your turn," you whispered, and with a nod, Bradley knelt down in the dirt next to home plate, his jeans getting messy in the process. 
"Hey, kiddo," he whispered to Everett, loud enough that you could still hear him. 
"Hi, Dad," he replied, and Bradley wrapped him up in his arms as he started to cry.
"Thanks for letting me marry your mom," Bradley told him, his voice a little rough as he kissed Everett's forehead. "And thanks for letting me be your dad. I'm going to make some promises to you, okay?"
"Okay," Everett said with a little shrug that made Bradley chuckle. 
He wiped at his tears as he said, "I promise to play baseball with you in the park all the time. At least until your mom gets annoyed. And I promise we'll watch the Phillies together in Philadelphia, because it's the only way to see the Phanatic up close."
"Yes!" Everett said, clapping his hands.
"And I promise to help you with your homework and make you pancakes and collect baseball cards together. And we can do anything else you decide you want to do, okay? Because I love you, kiddo."
Everett hugged him again, and when Bradley stood and looked at you, he was crying in earnest. "Kitten, I love your son just as much as I love you."
"I know it," you whispered, crying as well. 
He took a deep breath and laughed. "Are you ready for your promises, Kitten?" When you nodded he took your hands in his again. "In front of Ev, Molly and Bob, and this immaculate turf at Petco Park, I promise I love you more than baseball."
You started laughing through your tears, and Bradley turned to see Molly wiping her own tears on Bob's jersey. 
"That's a lot of love," you told him, squeezing his hands. 
He nodded, pulling both of your hands so they were around his waist. "I promise I love you more than the Phillies. And I always will." He let his forehead come to rest against yours and said, "And if you'll let me be strong for you sometimes when you need it, then that's an honor, Kitten. Because you're the strongest person I know. But I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." Your eyes closed as Bradley's lips brushed your forehead and his hands slipped around your waist. "John, I'm ready to kiss my wife."
"By all means," he replied, "go right ahead."
Your hands were around Bradley's neck, nudging his backward cap and pulling him closer, and then he was kissing you while your little cheering section of four people went wild. 
"I love you," he promised against your lips, but you pulled him in for more with a smile. He brushed your nose with his and kissed you one last time. Then Bob was holding out one ring on each palm, and you let Bradley slip yours on before you took his left hand in yours. His ring looked perfect after you slid it into place. And then Everett was reaching for him, and Bradley scooped him up while you hugged your sister and kissed Bob's cheek.
"You're really my dad now," Everett said, letting his head come to rest on Bradley's shoulder. 
Bradley held him close. "I think I already kind of was."
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The fact that your wedding reception consisted of ballpark food and cheap beer in one of the Padres' suites had you and Bradley smiling nonstop. The two of you had taken wedding photos while the park was still empty, and most of the shots were of the three of you.
"Could I interest you in some nachos, Kitten?" Bradley asked, stealing a chip as he handed you a tray.
"Thanks, Coach," you said, kissing his cheek. "You know, I don't think we give Bob enough credit."
"What do you mean?" he asked, dipping another chip into the cheese and eating it. 
"Well, we only met because he got you to coach the team with him in the first place. And he kind of let you bully me into being the Team Mom."
Bradley shook his head. "That seems like ages, not just just five months. You'd wear your little black skirt to practices and prance across the grass in your high heels. Fuck, you're so sexy." You giggled as he kissed you behind your ear. "And your tits look amazing in your dress."
"You can thank Molly for making me buy this one."
Bradley glanced toward where Molly and Bob were making out in the corner. His hands were all over the barely noticeable swell of her pregnant belly, and she was raking her fingers through his hair. "Nah, Bob's busy thanking her himself at the moment."
As more guests showed up just before the game started, you watched Nat squirt some ketchup onto a hotdog for Everett. And then you watched Bradley hold a napkin up while he ate it, just like he always did. The two of them were so shockingly similar, it was jarring at times when you remembered that Danny was Everett's biological father. 
"Talk about an upgrade," you whispered, taking a sip of beer before you went to greet Maverick. You barely watched the game, too busy chatting with your friends and kissing Bradley nonstop. But the Padres won which made Bradley and Everett happy, so it made you happy, too. 
And then by six o'clock, you had an exhausted seven year old son on your hands. He was crashing from all the snacks and the excitement of the day. "Time to head home," Bradley said, picking Everett up and kissing your lips. "And then we can send Ev off with my delightful sister-in-law."
You looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean? Ev's going to their condo for the night?"
"Two nights. I'm taking you to Palm Springs," he told you with a smirk. "We're having a real honeymoon now, and then I was thinking over winter break, we could take a family trip to Disney World?"
You threw yourself at him, and he collected you in his other arm. "That sounds perfect." You'd never been to Palm Springs or Disney World, but suddenly you wanted to go everywhere with him. 
"You said Philadelphia," Everett whined in Bradley's grasp.
Bradley kissed his forehead. "That'll be in the spring, silly. Gotta go when the Phanatic is active in his natural habitat."
Your heart pounded as you walked out across the parking lot to the Bronco. Because it turned out Molly had been keeping two secrets today: one for Bradley and one for you and Ev. You didn't expect to be this nervous, but here you were, barely able to get your seatbelt buckled around your dress.
Bradley was sweet and gentle, taking the buckle from your shaking hands. "Are you okay, Kitten?" he asked, the dying sunlight turning his eyes a deep amber. 
"Yes. Just can't wait to get home. Ev and I have a special wedding gift for you."
"Well, I can't wait either."
You bit your lip and looked out the window as you muttered, "Hope you like it."
Because Molly was the one driving her car, she and Bob got back to your house first. She was unlocking the front door so Bradley could carry Everett inside while he yawned. "We'll be out on the back deck," Molly said, taking Bob by the hand. "Let us know when Ev is all ready for his sleepover."
Now Bradley was the one who looked confused as they closed the back door behind them, leaving the three of you alone in the living room. "Ev's bag is already packed," Bradley said. "He can go with them anytime." 
"That's true." You felt too hot in your wedding dress now, thinking you might need to take a minute to yourself. But then Everett was climbing out of Bradley's arms and reaching for the box you'd stashed under the couch. 
"Can we give it to him?" he asked, looking up at you for permission with wide, innocent eyes. 
"Yeah," you whispered, running your hand over your chest, trying to calm the pounding of your heart. Your eye caught on the baseball covered in hearts that Bradley had used to propose to you where it sat on your mantle. He belonged here with both of you, and you wanted Everett to have every opportunity to live his best life. "We can give it to him."
Then Everett thrust the wrapped box into Bradley's hands, and you realized you were both staring at him. You reached for your son, pulling him closer to you as Bradley shook the box a little bit. "This is for me?"
"Yes," you and Everett said in unison, but now you felt like you were going to be sick as he started to rip into the silver paper. And then he was opening the box. 
A smile lit Bradley's face as he set the box aside and held up a Phillies jersey, examining the front of it. "I love it," he said, nodding his head. "But it looks a little small for me, doesn't it?" 
You pressed your lips together as you squeezed Everett's shoulder. "Look at the back," you told him, your voice a little shaky. 
Bradley turned it around and read it. "Bradshaw. But it's a child's size." When he met your eyes, you could barely see through your tears, and you even sensed that Everett was anxious now. 
"It's not for you, Coach," you informed him softly. Then you looked down at your son for a beat as you said, "It's for Ev. This is just our way of asking you if you'd like to be Everett's father. If you'd like to adopt him."
You watched Bradley's lips part, but no words came out. He was looking between the two of you in awe as tears seemed to fill his eyes. Then he read the back of the jersey again as he sobbed. "Come here," he whispered, kneeling down in front of Everett and tucking the jersey under his arm. "Is that what you want, kiddo?"
Everett wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck and said, "Yes."
Then Bradley looked up at you with tears in his eyes. "You'd let me?"
"Yes!" you said, now crying as well. "It's what we want."
He buried his face in Everett's neck and squeezed him. "Yes, I want to adopt you, Ev," he managed. As he stood with Everett in his arms, he kissed you and whispered, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
"We can do it soon," you told him, hugging him a little awkwardly as he held Everett. "I'll have my lawyer change my petition from child support to adoption. We can get new papers served. No more Danny. We don't need the money anyway. Not like we need you, Coach."
Bradley leaned down and kissed you. "First thing when we get back from Palm Springs, Kitten. Let's get this ball rolling. You won't have to worry about custody or Danny anymore. You won't even have to think about it. And I'll get my bonus," he told Everett with a grin. "A son to go along with my wife."
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Married! Adopting Ev! Happiness! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32
PART 30
Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
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alwritey-aphrodite · 8 months
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head first, fearless
Pairing: Jamie Tartt x single mom!reader
Warnings: swearing, motherhood
Word Count: 5.5k
Author’s Note: here she is!! I also have ideas for a little follow up if anyone’s interested! And a very big thank you to @sokkigarden for being so lovely and helping me so much with this one
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Some days you’re convinced Keeley Jones was put on this Earth simply to make your life better. When you’d moved next door to her five years ago, you never would have thought that the brightly dressed, brightly smiling woman would become one of your closest friends and your go-to babysitter.
It didn’t matter if it was a Wednesday or a Saturday, twelve in the afternoon or twelve at night, Keeley would take five-year-old Stella into her home with open arms and a bright smile.
“Anything you need, babes, I’m always here,” she’d told you the very first time you’d asked her to babysit at the last minute with tears in your eyes, and you’ve come to learn that she meant it.
So today, when you received a call from your boss at nine in the morning on a Saturday, you didn’t think twice before bringing Stella next door. Stella was settled on your hip, chattering away about how excited she is to see Keeley and all the fun things they’ll do together while you knocked on the door.
“You aren’t Keeley,” you say, confusion clouding your face at the man in front of you. He seems vaguely familiar to you, like you’d met in passing before, but you couldn’t place him.
“Jesus, Jamie,” you hear a voice from behind the man and he moves out of the way to reveal Keeley rushing towards the door, “sorry about him, he doesn’t know not to answer the door at other people’s houses,” she tells you as she rolls her eyes before reaching out for Stella with a bright smile.
Stella wriggles out of your arms and rushes towards Keeley’s plush couch with barely any time for you to plant a kiss on her forehead. You sigh with a mixture of relief and exhaustion, gathering yourself mentally before you head into the disaster zone that is your job.
“She’s been doing this thing where literally all she eats is strawberries,” you tell Keeley before you rush off, “but I’m sure you could get her to eat anything.”
“I’ll try my best,” she tells you with a wink before she all but shoves you away, “now don’t you worry about us, we’ll be just fine.” You smile at her one last time before you rush off to work, knowing Stella will be safe and happy for the whole day.
“Who was that?” Jamie asks, trying to seem nonchalant as he watches Keeley pour juice into a sippy cup as the little girl uses her chubby little fingers to turn on her favorite show.
“Oh that’s my neighbor, she’s a single mum and her boss is a total dickhead so I watch Stella whenever I can,” Keeley explains, leaning against the counter as she levels Jamie with a knowing stare, “she’s real fucking fit and I wouldn’t mind watching Stella while she does something actually enjoyable, like go on a date.”
Jamie’s a little embarrassed about how easy Keeley is able to read him, able to clock the way Jamie looked at you as he lingered in the doorway. You seemed magnetic, drawing Jamie towards you even as you rushed away and left him with nothing but the desire to know you better. Keeley stares for a few more seconds, long enough for Jamie to squirm under her gaze, before heading over to give Stella her breakfast with a giant smile.
Unsurprisingly, you were right, and Stella eats anything that Keeley makes for her, even the broccoli she had screamed at the night before. She ate it all with a smile, and Jamie was a little terrified at how quickly the little girl was taking over his heart. He’d always loved kids, loved getting to spend time with them and listen to the nonsensical way they talked, but something about Stella seemed different. She had been apprehensive about him at first, but by the time nap time rolls around, she falls asleep in his lap, her little head nestled against his shoulder.
This is how you find them when you rush home before dinner, not even bothering to knock or wait for Keeley to let you in. There’s still a Disney movie playing softly on the TV, and Keeley and Jamie are talking quietly so they won’t disturb Stella, even though you’re sure that girl could sleep through anything.
“Hi, babe!” Keeley greets you with a grin as she pats the couch next to her, and you’re so exhausted you don’t even think twice about sitting down, “Wanna stay for dinner?” She always tries to get you to stay for dinner, tries to get you to let someone take care of you for a change, but you’ve never once accepted her offer.
Today, though, you’re tired to your bones, and even the thought of ordering takeout seems like too much work, so you just nod. Keeley squeals before she looks over at Stella in mortification, but she’s still fast asleep against the man who opened the door that morning. Keeley must catch you looking because she sends you a wink before introducing the two of you, “That’s Jamie, Stella really seems to love him,” and then scurrying off to the kitchen.
At that, Jamie seems embarrassed, his cheeks tinged pink as he glances down at Stella, “I can try to hand her to you, if ya want?”
“Oh, no, I can never get her to nap this long,” you reassure him, and it almost feels like a swarm of butterflies are let loose in your stomach when he smiles at you.
The two of you talk quietly, Keeley joining in whenever she has something to add, and before long Stella is up and happily watching cartoons again. When it comes time for dinner, she demands to sit next to Jamie, practically vibrating with excitement at the idea of spending more time with her new friend.
Watching the two of them interact throughout the meal creates a pit in your stomach and an aching in your chest, as Jamie kindly helps Stella cut up her food and shoots her a wink when he steals a bite off of her plate and Stella just giggles and grins her way through the meal. As much as you’d like to stick around and catch up with Keeley and thank her properly for all of her help, you’re feeling the need to run so you help clean up in the kitchen before dragging Stella back home.
She’d been more than reluctant to leave and seemed on the verge of tears until you promised her ice cream before her bath and now she’s happily eating her dessert while recounting her entire day from the moment you dropped her off to the second you walked through the door.
“Jamie’s really nice and he let me do his hair and taught me to play football and Auntie Keeley said he thinks you’re pretty and…” you zone out after that, and even though you know Keeley was probably just teasing her friend, the thought sends you into a tailspin.
Sure, Jamie was obviously attractive and he was clearly great with Stella, but you barely knew each other and Stella could be lying to you because she’d recently started doing it just for fun. Knowing Keeley, though, she’s always trying to play matchmaker, and you wouldn’t put it past her to try and set up two of her single friends, regardless of if they’re compatible or not.
Still, you decide to spend some quality time searching for Jamie online after Stella goes to sleep.
What you don’t know, though, is that as you spend hours scrolling through all of Jamie’s socials, Keeley and Jamie are having a very similar conversation next door.
“Please just ask her out!” Keeley pleads for the thousandth time, pouring a glass of wine as Jamie pulls up the most recent episode of their favorite reality show.
“Keeley, I don’t know her at all.”
“I know, but I know her! And I know you, and I know the two of you would have a great time. Please, Jamie, the two of you deserve to have a good time and I want to babysit for something other than her boss being shitty.”
Jamie seems to be contemplating it, and Keeley knows she has him.
“I’ll give you her number, maybe invite her and Stella to a game, and then you can ask her out to dinner?” Keeley’s been toying with the idea of setting the two of you up, and now that you’ve actually met it seems like the most perfect idea and she knows you’ll be perfect together.
Keeley doesn’t wait for confirmation, going ahead and sending Jamie your contact information as he turns up the volume on the TV, as if to drown her out.
“And I’ll know if you don’t ask her,” she adds as she sits down next to him, feeling the need for one last push.
“Watch the show, Keeley,” Jamie says as turns his attention to the drama unfolding as if his heart isn’t racing at the idea of seeing you again, at the idea of taking you out for dinner.
It takes him a while to gather his courage, and he couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times he’s typed a message to you before quickly deleting it. He’d briefly considered asking his teammates for help, but that would mean explaining the whole situation and he remembers how intensely involved everyone was with Sam’s Bantr girl and he has no desire to be on the receiving end of that.
Instead, Keeley’s endless messages of Text. Her. push him over the edge until he types a text and hits send instead of delete.
Hey, it’s Jamie from Keeley’s house. Do you and Stella want to come to the game on Saturday? The seats are next to Keeley.
He couldn’t help the way he checked his phone every five minutes after hitting send, or the way his stomach swooped once you sent a reply.
Stella would love that, thank you :) she hasn’t stopped talking about you or football
Jamie needs to tamper down his smile when he reads that because he knows if any of his teammates catch him smiling at his phone, he’d never hear the end of it. Instead, he tells you that Keeley will have the tickets for you and he goes about the rest of his day as if his stomach isn’t full of butterflies at the idea of seeing you again or getting another text from you.
Saturday can’t come soon enough, with Stella bouncing off the walls at the idea of seeing her new friend again and, even though you’d never admit it to anyone, you’re looking forward to seeing Jamie too. Even though your conversation was brief, it was clear that Stella loved him and you’d gotten to know him a little better through texting, where he made you promise to come down to the dressing room after the match so he could say hello to Stella.
Unsurprisingly, it’s a struggle to get Stella into her little Richmond jersey, an old hand-me-down of Keeley’s niece with Kent plastered on the back; she begs you to wear it all the time, but the one day she’s supposed to, it's like the fabric is made of knives. By the time you stumble out to Keeley’s car, you’re sweaty and aggravated and looking forward to spending the afternoon with your best friend.
What you weren’t expecting, though, was to be led up to the owner’s box, where you were greeted by Keeley’s friend Rebecca, who was intimidatingly beautiful and the owner of AFC Richmond. You’d met a few times, but seeing her in her element while you wrangled a kindergartener made you feel like a fish out of water.
“And you must be Stella,” she says, looking down with a smile at your daughter who’s trying to escape your grip on her hand.
“Normally she has manners,” you respond as you smooth a hand over the girl’s hair, trying to get her to calm down for just a moment, knowing all the excitement of the match is going to make it impossible for her to sleep as it is.
Rebecca just chuckles, her brilliant smile never leaving her face.
“I completely understand, my Jelka sometimes acts like she’s never left the house.”
“I didn’t know you had a daughter?” Your statement comes out more like a question, racking your brain for any memory of Rebecca mentioning a child before.
“It’s a recent development,” Keeley adds with a wink to you as she squeezes Rebecca’s arm, and the taller woman just scoffs.
The four of you make your way out to your seats, Stella insisting on standing up on your legs, blocking everyone behind you. You turn to apologize, but the man sitting behind you just brushes it off.
“Children are strong willed,” he tells you with a reassuring smile, “I couldn’t even get my boys to wear pants when they were her age.”
It’s hard to ignore the urge to apologize for everything you or Stella did, but knowing you were surrounded by parents who understood the struggles of a strong willed child helped calm your nerves. It wasn’t that Stella misbehaved or that you let her run wild, but sometimes people who weren’t parents didn’t understand and expected her to sit quietly and still, as if she was a little adult and not a five year old child. Luckily, as the match started, everyone seemed to get as rambunctious and energetic as her.
Watching the game, you can’t help the way your eyes keep drifting to Jamie, even when he doesn’t have the ball. There’s just something about him that continues to draw your eyes to the large number nine on his back as he runs across the pitch. He scores right before halftime, and no one in that stadium is half as excited as Stella, who’s jumping up and down and screaming as if you just told her you’re taking a trip to Disney.
Richmond scores two more times, winning the game without much of a fight.
“Come on, let’s go see the boys!” Keeley stands and wiggles her fingers at Stella, who clambers out of her seat and eagerly grabs her hand, leaving you no choice but to follow. Keeley all but runs down the stairs with you and Rebecca trailing behind, exchanging information to get your girls together some time.
When you make it to the dressing room, you’re hit in the face with noise and warmth and the smell of sweat, but Stella is so excited you can barely focus on anything other than keeping your grip on her little hand. Keeley knocks and lets herself in with you and Rebecca following and you can’t help the way you immediately feel like there are 27 pairs of eyes on you.
“Jamie!” Stella slips out of your grip and makes a beeline for the striker and your heart stutters at the easy way she jumps into his grip, at the way he smiles at the little girl.
“We’ve gotta get you a better fucking kit,” Jamie tells her when he sees the large Kent plastered on her back, leading to stares and shushes from the rest of the team. Jamie, realizing what he’s said, looks to you with eyes wide with fear and remorse.
“It’s nothing she hasn’t heard before,” you tell him with a smile, and the room erupts into noise again, the team swarming your daughter and asking her opinions on the match, considering everything she says with genuine concern. You keep watch out of the corner of your eye, but from what you’ve heard from Keeley and what you know about Jamie, you’re sure Stella will be fine, but it’s hard to turn off the mom instincts.
Isaac is marching Stella around the room on his shoulders to “give her a better view” when Jamie comes over to where you’re standing with Keeley, Rebecca, and the coaches.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure, of course,” you shoot a glance back at Keeley, but she just winks at you as Jamie leads you out into the hallway.
It’s silent for a few moments, Jamie fiddling with the front of his kit, before he finally says, “Did Stella have a good time?”
“She loved it, probably the best day of her life so far,” you grin at him, hearing your daughter’s happy giggles through the dressing room door.
“Good, good,” he falls silent again, shoving his hands into the front of his kit.
You’re about to head back into the dressing room, even though you’re certain that wasn’t what Jamie wanted to ask you, when a question tumbles out of his mouth so quickly you’re certain you’ve misunderstood him.
“Wanna grab dinner sometime?” He expels a breath as if this is the most difficult thing he’s had to do today.
“What?” You ask in response, confused and surprised and sure you just didn’t hear him right.
“Would you like to get dinner sometime?” He asks again, slower, “Like, as a date?”
“That sounds nice,” and with the way he beams at you, you’re sure you’d agree to whatever he asks you.
“Cool.” You stand in the hallway for a few moments longer, just smiling at each other, before the laughter of your daughter snaps you out of your stupor and you head back into the dressing room. You can tell by the look on Keeley’s face that she knew exactly what Jamie had asked you, and was probably the one who pushed him to do it.
“Need a babysitter Friday night?” she asks as you approach, and you just roll your eyes at her, turning your attention back to Stella and the group of footballers that seem so enamored with her and her opinions.
The celebration starts to die down, even though you’re certain the party’s going to pick up at some exclusive club or bar in a few hours, and Rebecca walks with you and Keeley out into the car park.
“How long has that been a thing?” She asks, jutting her head back towards the building with a knowing little smirk as you buckle Stella into her seat.
“There is no thing,” you fix Keeley with a look, knowing that she’s probably been planning that for months, before you’d even met Jamie, and Rebecca has been in on it the whole time.
Still, you promise to message Rebecca with the dates that you and Stella are free for a playdate before buckling yourself into the driver’s seat, all the excitement of the day starting to wear you down. Hopefully, Stella’s so worn out from excitement she goes right to sleep when you get home, but you know the more likely scenario is that she stays up all night because she’s wound up.
The universe must be on your side, though, because Stella falls asleep before you’re even home and you need Keeley’s help to open your front door.
“God, this was so much easier to do when she was smaller,” you whisper with a grin, thinking of all the times Keeley needed to help you into your house when your arms were full of a sleeping Stella and groceries and your work bag. Keeley grins back, placing a kiss on Stella’s forehead before scampering off to her own house, waving goodbye before she closes the door.
Tell me when Jamie gives you a day + time, I’ll come over to help you get ready ;)
Even though you roll your eyes when you see the message, sent before you could even get Stella into bed, you really do appreciate her offer. You can’t even remember the last time you’d been out on a date, and you’ve certainly never been out with a professional footballer. Jamie’s clearly a nice guy, and you’ve enjoyed the few times you’d talked in person, but you’re already beyond nervous for the date that’s still days away.
Those nerves only grow as the week goes on, as you and Jamie settle on Friday at seven at an upscale restaurant you’d never even heard of, and as Keeley lets herself into your house with her spare key at four o’clock on Friday, your nerves reach their peak.
“Well, I’d totally fuck you,” Keeley says after she zips up the back of your dress, looping her arms around your waist and looking into your eyes through the mirror with a grin.
“Thanks, Keels, I’ll be sure to let him know that,” you reply with a giggle, finally starting to feel a little giddy at the thought of your date, even though your anxiety was pulsing just below the surface. The doorbell rings then, and you’re almost certain your heart is going to stop.
“I’ll get it,” Keeley gently pushes you aside as she makes her way out of the bathroom, “grab a purse before you come down, and not the big one! He won’t need snacks before dinner to stop him from crying!” She gives you a wink and then she’s gone, and you can just barely hear her greet Jamie at the door, followed by Stella making a run for him.
Breathing deeply, you make your way back into your bedroom to stuff all of your belongings into a tiny purse, leaving your trusty, large tote sitting on the bed, overflowing with snacks and toys to keep Stella entertained whenever you go out. As much as you’d love to, you know you can’t hide out in your room forever, so you snap your purse closed and make your way downstairs.
Walking down your steps makes you feel like you’re a teenager again, your prom date eagerly waiting at the door after getting grilled by your father, except this time it’s Jamie getting grilled by Keeley and your daughter. When she sees you, Stella is already reaching for you, attempting to wriggled herself out of the arms of a slack-jawed Jamie.
“C’mon, babe,” Keeley intercepts Stella instead, knowing you’ll never leave otherwise, “let’s go find a movie to watch.” Now, it’s just you and Jamie standing by your front door in silence, Stella’s happy jabbering filtering in from the living room the only noise.
“You look nice,” you finally break the silence, feeling awkward and unsure of yourself and certain you sound lame, like you haven’t been on a date in the last six years.
“So do you,” Jamie responds, gently trailing his eyes up and down your form despite the blush on the tips of his ears, “ready?”
You just nod, still needing time to process the fact that you’re going on a date with Jamie Tartt, who looks nothing less than perfect in dark slacks and a button up, and it’s clear that he had attempted to style his hair but the way he continually runs his hands through it has ruined whatever styling there was before. Hopefully the shock of going out with someone so gorgeous will wear off soon so you can actually participate in conversations.
Luckily, by the time you make it to the restaurant Keeley had recommended to Jamie, you’re able to talk about anything and everything, swapping stories about your childhoods and work and Stella, stories that Jamie seems genuinely interested in.
“I hadn’t put together any of her nursery furniture and she would not stop crying so I couldn’t put her down,” you tell him over dessert, explaining the beginning to your friendship with Keeley, “and then there was a knock on the door and I was ready to scream at whoever was on the other side, but it was Keeley and she took Stella right out of my arms and of course she stopped crying then.” You smile, reminiscing on how essential Keeley was during those first few months where you were convinced you’d made a mistake and you’d never survive.
“And then she sat with me while I put together the rest of Stella’s furniture, and she put her in the crib, turned on the baby monitor, and made me dinner.” Keeley had shown you that you weren’t alone, that you’d be able to handle whatever life throws at you because you had her by your side, and if anyone could understand that feeling it was Jamie. “She sat with me and came over every night, just to hang out, and when I went back to work, she watched Stella for me and I didn’t even need to ask.”
“Yeah, she’s magical like that, making you realize things about yourself, believing in you and shit,” Jamie adds, even as his cursing catches the attention of the tables around you.
“She insisted on being Stella’s fairy godmother,” you add with a giggle, delighting in the way Jamie smiles at you.
“I ordered Stella a Tartt kit, by the way,” as soon as the thought crosses your mind the words are out of your mouth, and it’s worth it when Jamie looks at you like this is the best news he’s ever heard.
“She’ll have to wear it to our next match, then,” and you’d agree to anything he says when he says it with that soft look in his eyes, like he might actually love you.
It’s too soon for any of that, but the thought doesn’t scare you the way it normally does. You think you’d enjoy being in love with Jamie, making breakfast together on the weekends and falling asleep next to each other every night of the week. Stella already adores him, so you’d never need to worry about that, and it seems like he cares for Stella the way you and Keeley do, and you know she needs all the love and support she can get.
Jamie glances at his phone, letting out a sigh as he notices the time.
“This is the best night I’ve had a in a while,” he says and you brace yourself for the finishing blow, “but grandad makes me get up at 4 AM for training. Maybe I can bring you coffee tomorrow?” He looks so hopeful, even if you weren’t already foaming at the mouth at the idea of spending more time with him, you’d say yes.
He walks you to your door, and you have to pretend that you don’t know that Keeley is watching from behind the curtains when you press a kiss to his cheek and he squeezes your hand in a way that makes you want to invite him in, even though you both know that would never happen. He waits until you’re safely inside before driving away, and as soon as the door shuts behind you, Keeley is attacking you for details.
Seated on the couch, legs tucked underneath you and junk food spread out on the coffee table, you recount your whole night, telling her how wonderful he was and how great he made you feel and Keeley looks happy enough to burst. Whether her joy comes from the fact that her two friends are happy or because she set the two of you up, you’ll never be sure.
After she leaves, you find yourself texting Jamie, thanking him for such a great night and wishing him luck with training before throwing yourself into bed, happy and exhausted and ready to sleep forever. You dream of Jamie and Stella and a dog, and when you wake up, you’re a little disappointed that it wasn’t real, though you’d never admit that to anyone.
Jamie brings coffee in the morning, and almost every morning after that. When you tell him to stop going out of his way, he tells you his house is right down the road, but Keeley confirms your suspicions that he’s lying. You just laugh when she tells you he’s wrong, too delighted that someone would go out of their way for you every morning to bring it up with him again.
It’s a little terrifying, how seamlessly Jamie fits into your life. You and Stella find yourself in the owner’s box of most Richmond home games, and Jamie brings over takeout every Friday night. If you’re ever working late or stuck at the office, Jamie always jumps at the chance to pick Stella up from school, sometimes grabbing Phoebe as well so the two girls can play together.
Sometimes you wonder if he does that solely to bother Roy, but you don’t mind as long as the girls get home safely.
Jamie is wonderful with Stella, and that was what scared you the most, because while you were used to dealing with heartbreak and disappointment, your daughter wasn’t. Every time you see them kicking a football around in your backyard or catch Stella asleep in Jamie’s lap during a movie, your heart constricts and your breath catches in your throat because you don’t know how you’re supposed to explain it to her if Jamie decides to leave, decides that a fit young footballer doesn’t need to be tied down by a kindergartener and her workaholic mother.
One night, a few months after that very first dinner, the two of you are sitting on the couch with Stella safely asleep in her bed and you’re so happy it scares you a little. This is everything you’ve always wanted, a loving partner who cares for your daughter like she’s his own, but you need to resist the urge to self-destruct.
“Jamie,” you start, reaching for his hand and pulling his attention away from the movie and hating how much this sounds like you’re about to break up with him, “I love you.” It’s a miracle you’re able to keep your voice steady with the terror you feel, but it all evaporates in a second when Jamie smiles at you, beaming from ear to ear as if he’s scored a game winning goal.
“I love you, too,” and he kisses you so softly it hurts you a little, hurts the part inside your brain that was wishing your life could have always been like this, wishing you could have always been this happy. You kiss him back, though, and the movie sits forgotten for the rest of the night.
“I got pregnant at nineteen,” you tell him later, wrapped up in your sheets and his arms, “and Stella’s dad isn’t a bad guy or anything, he just… wasn’t ready, which is fine, it was my choice in the end, but sometimes it really fucking sucked.” You sniffle, hating yourself a little for ruining such a lovely night but Jamie just pulls you close, presses a kiss to the crown of your head and traces nonsensical shapes on your arm.
“But then I found Keeley, and now I have you, and Stella’s perfect and everything turned out okay but I just wanted you to know,” you finish, breathing deeply for the first time since you started talking. It wasn’t like it was a secret that you had Stella young or that you were a single mom, but sometimes revealing all the details felt too intense, like no one needed or wanted to hear how you got to this point.
“Me mum was only twenty when I was born,” Jamie tells you, continuing his tracing on your arm and it’s then that you realize he’s been drawing hearts, “and my dad’s a real piece of a shit, so she basically raised me all on her own. And then she found Simon when I was a teenager and he’s a good guy, likes baking and shit. I think they’d both like you a lot, you and Stella.”
“Well, your mom must be pretty great, putting up with you all on her own,” you smile, bursting into laughter when Jamie squeezes your side, both of you feeling lighter and falling asleep after sharing more giggle-filled kisses.
Life continues on, leaving you giddy to see what the next day will hold. Jamie continues to bring coffee every morning, stopping by while Stella eats breakfast in front of the TV and you pack up three lunches. If there isn’t a game, Jamie stays over on the weekend and the two of you make breakfast together, swaying gently in the kitchen in your pajamas, basking in the sun and his presence until Stella stomps her way downstairs, hair ruffled and her grumpy little frown blooming into a smile the second she smells the pancake batter.
Stella started playing football on the same team as Phoebe, and you and Keeley get equally as excited as you do at Richmond matches. Whenever he’s available, Jamie will join Roy as an assistant coach, and even though he tells you it’s to spend time with Stella, you’re sure seeing the annoyed look on Roy’s face whenever he shows up is a nice bonus. The four of you will take the girls out to lunch after, and you’re reminded of all the wonderful people you’ve had in your corner, some longer than others but all equally as important to you.
Your life might not have gone the way you expected, but what you have now is better than anything you ever could have dreamed.
Tags: @whimsical-roasting @hopefulromances @onceuponaoneshot @jamietarttdodo @scaramou @ickydollysstuff @drizzyreese @amieinghigh @ilymoonie @better-things-to-do @yepyeahuhhuh @zazima @guccilongboard @shineforever19 @tortilla-maria1 @shakespeareanwannabe @lilweirdgal @flashyourgreeneyesatme @aiyaiy @just35yrsandtrying @chrissy1986 @emmy2811
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cupid-styles · 7 months
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you're my last shot
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second blurb of my fall/halloween series ! this one honestly has nothing to do with halloween but imagine it happens in fall :) there will be a halloween-themed blurb for them coming on sunday!
word count: less than 1,000
content warnings: pregnancy, discussion pertaining to abortion (no action taken)
masterlist | talk to me
fall blurb masterlist
. . .
Y/N isn't quite sure when she and Harry started hating each other so much.
It's been months, probably. Maybe a year? She doesn't really remember; all she knows is that the second he melded into their friend group, she thought he was cocky and annoying, flirting with every person who so much even looked his way, and she didn't like that. She didn't like him. 
The mutual hatred between them was fine up until now, but... now, it seems like it's a major inconvenience, because Y/N is standing in her bathroom staring down at four positive pregnancy tests and Harry — she shudders — is the only person she's slept with in the past three months.
It had been a moment of weakness. A huge one. Massive, really, fueled by a few too many drinks at the bar, a shared spliff outside, an alcohol-fueled decision of, "well, we live in the same neighborhood, may as well just take an Uber together" that ended in a heated makeout session, followed by one of the most passionate nights Y/N has ever had. (She'll never admit that to him, but she swallows it down for herself.)
There was something about that night. He was being less... awful than he typically was when their friends went out. He didn't eye fuck the entire bar, didn't buy any drinks for the cute girls flirting with him. He was tolerable and apparently that was enough for Y/N — well, drunk Y/N who gets a little too horny when she has rosé in her system, and when she eyed his large hands and tattoos in the Uber, and she felt him shift just a little bit closer to her in the backseat, and when he whispered "just for tonight, no one has to know" into her ear, she was a goner.
And now she's pregnant with his child.
What the fuck?
. . .
It turns out that that's Harry's exact response.
"You said you're on birth control—"
"I am."
"So what the fuck happened—"
"It must have failed, Harry, there's still a chance of conception even with the pill."
"Are you serious—"
"Do you think I would joke about this?"
He's pacing around the diameter of his living room, trying to digest the news. She understands. It took her about 48 hours to process that this was happening to her, and then an additional 24 when she realized she had to tell Harry. She hadn't told anyone else — not any of their friends or her mom, because she wasn't sure what she wanted to do and she didn't want her decision to be fueled by any outside opinions. As much as she despised him, she believed Harry was the only other person who had a say in this.
Finally, he sits down. Well, it's more a noisy thump as he crosses his legs on the carpet, burying his head in his hands. She sighs, feeling marginally bad for him, even if she was having the same response a few days ago.
"Listen, I'm fine to have an abortion. I know we're both pro-choice and we really don't have to do anything with this... thing. Just, like, Venmo me half the money for one and I'll get it done."
Harry looks up at her, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why would you get an abortion?"
"Why wouldn't I get an abortion?"
"Because I want to be a dad," he says with a shrug, as if it's a given that he'd want Y/N to mother his child, "You may be my only shot. We all know I have a shitty relationship history, who knows if I'll be able to have another kid."
"Harry, this is insane. We can't stand each other, this would never be a healthy situation."
"Why not?" he presses, and Y/N seriously can't believe he's fighting back on this, "Co-parenting is totally normal. We don't have to be married to have a kid together. I'm ready."
Her eyes widen. "I literally watched you funnel a bag of wine last week, and you're 29 years old."
"I only do that shit because I have no reason not to. If we're having a baby, I'm more than happy to stop partying and focus on becoming a dad."
"Do you— like, do you even know what being a parent requires?" Y/N asks, "You would be committed to dealing with me for at least 18 years. Money, emotional support, being there for everything. Soccer games, school shows, parent-teacher conferences, graduations, doctors appointments..."
"I want kids, Y/N. And if you're my only chance, I'm not gonna say no."
She thinks she might puke on the spot.
"You look like you're gonna pass out. Are you okay?" Harry questions, standing from his spot on the rug and stepping towards her. She puts her hands up, a silent and invisible boundary. He stops.
"Are you... set on having an abortion?" he asks quietly, "It's okay if you are, that's your choice."
She sighs. She hates to admit that she's not. That over the past four days, she's envisioned what it would be like to snuggle her sweet baby, to kiss them and hold them and be a mom to them. That, worst of all, her dating history is just as glum as Harry's and, whether she likes it or not, he may be her only shot at parenthood, too.
"I guess I'm not," Y/N breathes, setting her eyes low to the ground. "I know I only have so much time and... I do get scared that I'll miss my opportunity."
"Yeah," he nods in understanding, "Do you wanna... like, take some time to think then? Maybe reconvene in a couple of days?"
Reluctantly, she agrees. But she already knows that she doesn't need any more time to mull it over — she wants to have this baby with Harry. 
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kedreeva · 1 year
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I tried to make sourdough biscuits to freeze as a test to see if they would bake afterwards, and how, and so I mixed them up and cut them out and carefully preserved them on parchment paper in my freezer and then hours later I bagged them once they were frozen so I could take them to my mom's and then I went to sit down and realized oh FUCK. I fucking forgot the butter. I FORGOT the BUTTER. I skipped a whole ass step.
And I told my mother, shit I forgot the butter, and she goes what do you mean like inside or on top?
Inside!!! Inside!!!!!!!!! I didn't mix the butter in during prep!!! These are unbuttery biscuits!!!
And she goes
I didn't add butter to mine (I had brought her some discard to bake these biscuits with a few days ago)
I said what do you mean?
She goes, the recipe you told me didn't have butter (I told her the recipe from memory)
I FORGOT THE BUTTER TWICE
but wait there's more!!!
She goes, your dad liked them
At which point I'm forced to ask: did he tho. Did he like them, or did he tell you he liked them, the way he LIED to us for 35 years about liking pizza?
Well, she says, I don't know. he did admit tonight to not liking brussel sprouts
Which they've been eating together for years now, literally this man is incapable of telling someone he doesn't like a food which explains a lot of my childhood meals
So I'm like okay okay okay okay. Okay. I know I forgot the butter and I know these biscuits are frozen hockey pucks right now but hear me out... What if I turn the oven on to preheat it, and then put the biscuits under the oven vent to thaw, and then just mix the butter in after? Surely nothing will go wrong with this plan.
So I break out the biscuits, and I turn on the oven, and I start thawing them, and I put the butter into a bowl, and start frantically trying to mash it with a pastry masher. This goes about as well as you might expect, which is to say terribly, because the butter just sort of turns into a pile of butter instead of a stick, and I need it to be pebbles of butter.
So I start sprinkling in flour, just until the butter stops re-amalgamating. The biscuits are basically thawed by this point so I try to mash those in and that goes very very very badly, so I clean the tool and just start folding the butter in with my hands like kneading bread, desperately just trying to mash it into one coherent form. It makes a ball of dough, or good enough to pass for one, and I cut out six biscuit sized chunks.
Put them in. Bake them. My oven light doesn't work so I can't even check on them while they're baking to see if I fucked it up worse.
Finally I pull them out, and I realize I fucked up but at least it was in the right direction. The biscuits don't look like they're supposed to, but they do look like layered biscuits, and they taste fine. I put a bunch of honey on one of them and it was pretty good.
I tell all of this to my partner when he gets home and he listens to all of it in silence. When I'm done his only comment is:
"Well, I guess we know how puff pastry was invented, now."
Yeah, it was some asshole hundreds of years ago trying to cover up biscuit sins!!
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WIBTA if I changed my name because people are overusing the nickname privilege?
2 years ago, I (29, transmasculine) changed my name. For the sake of this ask, since I don't want to use my real name, a decent equivalent is James, so I'll be using that instead.
I originally told my mom and my roommate/close friend (Alex, 29, agender) I was okay with the nickname Jamie, but I'd prefer to mostly be called James, especially when it comes to people I don't know well.
I tried to set this boundary because the nickname feels a little feminine, even if it's technically gender neutral. I don't pass very often, so it makes me uncomfortable to think people who don't know me might misunderstand, and think I am simply a woman with a gender neutral nickname. So I envisioned Jamie being reserved for the people closest to me because of that.
Both my mom and Alex opted to call me Jamie immediately. They introduced me to friends, family members, and even strangers as Jamie, put my name in their phone as Jamie. My mom sends me packages addressed to "Jamie [lastname]". Just the other day, Alex's grandma sent us chocolates in the mail and the note inside said "Merry Christmas Alex and Jamie!" and I am not close to her by any means, I am positive Alex must have told her that's my name. Just tons and tons of little things like that.
It took me a while to catch on - at first I thought people simply decided to call me Jamie on their own, or heard Alex or my mom talk to me and figured it was okay. I'm autistic, so it takes a while to figure out the best way to approach a problem involving social skills. I didn't want to immediately jump in and say "hey, don't call me that, you don't know me well enough," because I think that's a bit callous. And I thought I was dealing with just a few acquaintances - not literally everyone Alex or my mom talks to.
I confronted both of them about a year ago, when I finally put it together. They said they're not intentionally disregarding my feelings, but "Jamie suits you so much more" so they forget and it just slips out.
(I could be wrong, but I think this is probably because Jamie can be a girl's name and I still look like a girl. So, yeah, of course they'd feel that way.)
I begged them to stop and call me James if they're talking to people about me. My mom promptly "forgot" again. Alex has gotten better about it, but still slips up. Even if they were perfect, I feel like the damage is done after 2 years of this.
To further complicate things, Alex actively avoids using pronouns to refer to people in speech. They will say things like "I've been told that the flight was canceled" instead of "he said he canceled the flight". This is due to anxiety because they're not great at remembering pronouns & doesn't want to accidentally misgender anyone. So there is a lot of general confusion about my pronouns amongst the groups that are connected to Alex. (I don't really use social media, so informing people of my pronouns is more complicated than just putting them in my bio and calling it a day. I've asked Alex to please just say he/him, but they're so resistant and weird about it because of their irrational fears, which...honestly just feels transphobic now).
Now I've started to ask them to drop the nickname entirely, even privately. Call me James and nothing else forever. Jamie has been thoroughly ruined for me, I just feel nauseous when I see or hear it. But at this point, since I lost my job & most of my social network is through Alex, everyone calls me Jamie, and it's exhausting to correct them over and over when it's such a small, seemingly pedantic thing. I don't mind a little confrontation or advocating for myself, but this...this is beyond what I can handle without getting severely stressed out.
So I've been considering changing my name to something else that doesn't have such a common gender neutral/feminine nickname. Just start over. Reset.
But this would be the third time I've changed my name. The first time was like 6 years ago, and it only lasted a few months before I decided it didn't fit, and went back to using my deadname while I figured myself out. My family remembers this well, and 2 years ago when I told them I go by James now, expressed their frustration because I "keep changing things and it's confusing". I'm worried that if I change my name again, nobody will bother to take it seriously, they'll just assume I'll change it again, so why bother using the correct name at all.
Plus I do see how it could be considered petty or immature. It took years to settle on the name I have now. I put a ton of thought into it. I used to love it. I might be TA for letting something as unimportant as an overused nickname sway me to the point where I feel like I need to throw the whole name away.
I mean, I understand why younger trans people might do that, since they have less of their life established and are figuring out who they are, but I'm nearly 30, so I feel like I am getting too old for this. It's just tiring.
Idk, I probably won't make any decisions based on the results of this, but the feedback would be helpful to consider. WIBTA?
What are these acronyms?
175 notes · View notes
thefallennightmare · 6 months
Text
Miracle-sixteen
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*gif created by me, feel free to use*
Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader
Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.
Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.
Author Note: Hahaha i'm sorry
Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh
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Darkness.
Emptiness.
Lonliness.
The Void.
Whatever you want to call it, that's what I felt inside as I stared at the wooden box in front of me. It was currently closed and the funeral director said they could open it whenever I was ready. How can someone ever be ready to see their love one dead but dolled up to look alive? It's gut wrenching and disturbing. They're supposed to be dead. Why would anyone want to stare at a dead body to remember them when they were alive?
Maybe I should have cremated her.
With a broken sigh, I raised my gaze away from the casket over to the funeral director who was basically running the entire funeral since I have no idea what I'm doing.
"People actually have open caskets at funerals?" I asked again.
Elaine nodded. "It's very common. Should we open it?"
As I reluctantly nodded, I turned my back to the casket just intime to see Lana walk up to me with two large bouquets of flowers in her hands. Quickly I rushed over to her and grabbed one.
"Where do you want these, dear? They're from your neighbors," Lana asked.
"Uh," I gazed around, purposely avoiding the now open casket, and nodded to the doors at the opening of the room. "Right there is probably fine.
Once we set the flowers down on the ground, I brushed my hands against the thighs of my black dress. It was a chilly October day, but it felt weird not to be dressed up to attend a funeral; especially when it's for your mother.
She died one week ago, twenty minutes before I made it to the hospital. Even with all the anger I felt towards her, it crushed me knowing I wasn't there with her when she died. I wasn't there for her much the last few weeks, too busy on the road and pinning for a life that was never supposed to be mine. Lana was there with my mom at the end, as well as someone I didn't expect to see there, holding her cold hand.
"Do you think he'll show up?" Lana asked tentatively.
The subject was still a sore wound, and she didn't know how I'd react.
My bloodshot eyes lazily tore into her. "I told him to stay away. He'd be smart if he listened."
"Have you eaten anything today, dear?" She asked, changing the subject.
Through all the pain and anguish, I was forcing inside, a small smile pulled at my lips. For the last seven days, Lana had stayed in my house with me to make sure I ate, got out of bed, and took care of myself. I told her many times that she didn't need to. I was alright on my own.
"Lana, you literally made me breakfast, and all but forced it down my throat," I reminded her.
She gently patted my cheek. "Just making sure. I could stay another night if you'd like."
I firmly shook my head. "No, you need to go back to your life after today. You've done so much for me already. I'll be fine on my own."
"Well, maybe if you weren't ignoring all of them, you could always call Mr. Seb-."
"Don't," I pointed a finger at her. "I don't want to hear his name."
There was some commotion coming from down the halls, and various voices, and when I peaked at my watch, I noticed that the service was about to begin. Plastering on a fake smile, I straightened out my dress as I prepared for the next hour of the onslaughts of condolences. I wasn't sure how many people who show up today, my mom never talked about friends before her Alzheimer's.
Lana stood next to me as I greeted person after person, accepting their condolences with a pulled-tight smile and a nod. It went on like this for a long while and when the muscles in my jaw couldn't take the pain any longer; I excused myself and walked out into the hallway. I was only alone for a few seconds until my name was called from behind by a familiar voice.
Turning on my heels, a scowl pulled at my lips as my fists clenched. How dare he show up here after I told him to stay away?
"Hi," he gave me a small smile.
"What the fuck are you doing here, James? I told you at the hospital that you're not welcome here," I forced through gritted teeth.
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I pushed through the door of the hospital room but came to a screeching halt at the sight. My mom laying still in a hospital bed with blood dried to various spots of her face and Lana standing at the foot of the bed, fear in her eyes. The monitors were blank as the tubes that were once connected to my mom lay scattered on the floor. But none of that held my attention. It was the man sitting in the chair next to the bed, my mother's lifeless hand in his.
"Who the fuck are you?" I demanded.
The man looked away from my mom and towards me. His dark hair was falling into his face so he ran a hand through it to push it back, his striking blue eyes boring into me. The sharpness of his jaw could cut the tension in the room. I sucked in a breath when a familiar sensation rang inside my mind. This man looked exactly like my real father in those pictures.
"Hi," the man stood to his feet. "You must be Y/N."
I raised a brow while crossing my arms. "Who the fuck are you?"
His eyes darted from Lana back to me. "I'm James; your brother."
Everything around me fell into hell beneath my feet as my heart stuttered in my chest. My mouth ran dry, and I had to swallow a few times to get the moisture back. Even though he looked like how our father did, I still didn't believe him.
"Bullshit," I spat. "How do I know you're not lying?"
James sighed before pulling out his wallet and handing over a frayed picture. Hesitantly I reached for it and when I realized what I was looking at, my heart shattered into a million pieces. It was of James and my mother, the day he was born. It was taken in the hospital room. On the back was written:
James Boyle. January 2, '99. My son.
"You need to leave," I said while thrusting the picture into his chest.
Tears burned in my eyes but I refused to let them spill.
James chuckled. "She's my mother. I'm not leaving her."
"She's already dead," I said.
I would have been more shocked about missing her last breath if Lana hadn't called me twenty minutes ago to say that there was a man here who decided to the plug. My mom was hooked up to a ventilator and was brain dead, as the doctors said, so he made the choice to end my mom's life. There wasn't any hope for her so I would have done the same thing. Although, it wasn't my choice to make. The doctors allowed this random man to decide when he wasn't familiar with my mother's condition.
"How the fuck did they let you decide to end her life?" I demanded to know.
"She made me her power of attorney," James said, not daring a glance my way as he stared down at our mother.
"You? Why the fuck would she let you be her power of attorney? You've been out of her life for years," I said while walking to the other side of the bed so I could glare at him.
James peered up at me with my words. "Unlike you, I've been keeping in touch with her. While you've been gone the last few weeks, I've called her every day at noon to check in on her."
I glared at Lana who simply held up her hands. "I had no idea."
"Her Alzheimers wasn't nearly as bad as you two made it seemed," James said. "She remembered me everything we talked. It was the highlight of her day when I called."
My shoulders were tense with anger and I was trying to hard not to make a scene over my mother's corpse.
"She attacked me with a bat and nearly choked out a friend of mine because she thought he was my dad," I informed him.
James scoffed. "That man wasn't your father."
"Bullshit! Jonathan raised me, unlike your piece of shit father who wanted nothing to do with me!," I bellowed.
The door to the room opened, a nurse walking inside with a pissed off expression. "Alright, there's way too many people in here. The coroner is coming to retrieve your mother and only one can be here for that."
James gave one last longing glance down at our mother. "I'll leave. I have a flight back home to Texas to catch. I'll let you handle the details of the funeral."
"Gee, thanks," I snarled. "Do me a favor, don't bother showing up."
"I'll be seeing you again; soon." James said right before walking out of the room.
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"You've done a great job with the service. It's what mom would have wanted," James said.
I scoffed while shaking my head. "Just because you would call her to check in doesn't mean you know what she wanted. I was with her every single day dealing with her Alzheimers. I was the one taking care of her, not you. You were too busy living your rich life in Texas."
I'd done my research on James Boyle and found out that he was married with three kids and ran his own investment company: a very popular one in Texas. So while I was struggling to pay out my mother's medical bills, he was spending his money on expensive and lavish things.
"It seems like you've made quite the life for you here," James muttered while smoothing down the front of his tux jacket. "You're a merch girl for some band? Good deeds, was it?
"Bad Omens," I corrected. "And I'm their social media manager."
Was. You quit when Noah compared your Only Fans to amateur porn.
James hummed in response. "Well, it must be paying well if you could provide this kind of service for mom."
No, my most recent pictures and videos on Only Fans did.
I was making a decent amount of money from there and even though I quit tour early, Matt still mailed my paycheck to me. So those two combined was enough to pay for the funeral. Even though I shouldn't have gone to these lengths for a woman who lied to me about my entire existence. Maybe that was the reason I wasn't so heartbroken about my mom because of all the lies.
But the guilt that ate away at me every night because I wasn't here was slowly becoming too much to handle alone.
Lana asked me every day how I was doing but I'd lie by saying I was fine when in fact, I was one wrong word from a breakdown.
"I should get back to it," I motioned to the room behind him where the crowd was taking thier seats.
As I walked passed James, he gripped my elbow. I hissed in pain when his fingers dug into my skin.
"Did you go over her will yet?"
I blinked at him. "What?"
He lowered his face closer to mine. "I need to know if she left me anything."
Mother fucker.
My jaw dropped when I realized this was why he showed up, and prematurely pulled the plug. He wanted whatever was left in the will to him.
"You're such a piece of shit," I seethed while trying to rip my arm out of his grasp.
He held tighter, and I cried out in pain.
"I bet bitch left everything to you," James snarled.
"She had nothing to leave! We were broke, barley affording to pay her medical bills on top of our other bills. The only thing I have left is the house but if you're that desperate to have something, take it. It's yours."
I ripped my arm away from him and rubbed my elbow to ease the pain.
As James took a step towards me, a body stepped in front of me to block me from his wrath.
"I'd suggest you take a step back."
My eyes took in the site of Folio with his hair slicked back and black suit, face tense with anger.
"I'm having a private conversation with my sister," James pointed towards me.
Folio fingers twitched, the only sign that he was surprised, but pulled me closer behind him.
"It looked rougher than that," he said.
James took a side stepped towards me which only made Folio push me into a direction of another body. Nick gave me a warm smile as he wrapped an arm around me. Feeling his warmth eased the anger for a moment and I leaned into him. I only told Folio about my mom but knew that eventually the rest of the guys would find out. I didn't expect them to show up to the funeral, though. Tour ended yesterday, and I figured they'd want to stay home to rest.
"This is none of your business."
"Whenever it involves Y/N, it is our business," Folio said. "If you're done here, I can have a worker show you out."
James' gaze bounced from both of the Nicks then to me, his lips pulled into a tight line. With a shake of his head, he adjusted his suit jacket.
"If it means anything to you, I was hoping to meet under better circumstances," James spoke to me.
"Go fuck yourself, James." I spat.
Not wanting to be in his presence for a second longer, I allowed Nick to turn me away from him and steer me into the direction of the room where my mother's service was seconds away from starting. Folio followed close behind until we were right outside of the doors to the room where he pulled us to a stop.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
No, far from it.
I was holding it together during my altercation with James and was seconds away from breaking down.
Nick gently raised my arm and pushed up the sleeve of my dress to get a look at my elbow. "It doesn't look that bad. Shouldn't leave a bruise."
Without a second thought, I wrapped my arms around Nick in a hug, one he immediately returned.
"Thank you," I muttered. "For being here."
His hand rubbed at my back. "Of course, Y/N."
Leaving his embrace, I folded into Folio's. One hand wrapped around my lower back while the other smoothed the hair away from my face as I buried it into his chest. The tears still didn't fall but this comforting touch was almost enough to make me break down.
"I didn't think you would show up."
Folio pulled away to stare down at me. "Why wouldn't we?"
I shrugged. "Tour ended yesterday. You guys must be exhausted."
Nick spoke next. "We would have be here earlier but Jolly was afraid you'd kick his ass if we stopped the tour early."
"Can you blame me? She's got a strong right hook."
Spinning around, I smiled towards Jolly who held his arms open for a hug, which I gladly accepted.
"I'd never kick your ass, Jolly. You're too sweet." I joked after stepping away from his embrace.
We all chuckled as I took in the sight of the three of them, truly feeling the love and appreciation from them. They may have started out as acquaintances when I first began working for them but slowly over time, they had become good friends of mine. But if the three of them are here, does that mean?
I peered over to Folio. "Is No-."
"Angel."
Wiping my head around, I drank in the sight of Noah standing less than five feet away from me. His hair was falling into his eyes and the long dark jacket covered the black turtleneck he wore. Fuck, he looked so beautiful. Even with the anger I felt boiling inside of me from all the hurtful things he said to me a week ago, my heart still skipped a beat as I continued to watch him.
"I'm sorry," Noah said while stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his pants. "For more than I can even explain right now."
Tears rolled over my cheeks and the taste of them felt bitter on my tongue. My breathing became erratic as I did my best to keep myself calm. I wanted to punch him, pushed him out of those doors away from all of this, and I wanted to tell him what a piece of shit, asshole he was. But yet, more than anything, I wanted to walk up to him and press our lips together.
I needed him so bad, not in a sexual way. I needed the comfort and care he always provided. If anyone could get me through the rest of the day, it was Noah.
"I can't do this right now. The service is about to start," I sputtered before I slipped past him into the room.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Text
Chapter 4
Chapter 1  / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3
Steve arrived home to Robin anxiously pacing.
“Steve! Oh my God. I thought you died.”
“Robin, I literally talked to you an hour ago.”
“You could’ve died in the last hour!”
He smiled at her dramatics. She had his location the entire time, and she easily could have called him any time in the last hour if she was that worried.
She wrapped him in a hug, which was shocking enough on its own, but Steve couldn’t help his confusion when she also kissed the top of his head.
She held him for over a minute and Steve started to wonder if someone had died and she didn’t know how to tell him face to face.
“Robs?”
“Dingus?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Are you okay?”
Steve realized Eddie had probably told her everything. Oh for fuck sake.
“I am begging you to never bring anything of this up to me ever. Like, even if you think it’s okay to talk about it, assume it isn’t. I am never going to talk about this with you. Not ever. Not even on my deathbed. Not even when I’m drunk.”
“Eddie said you should.”
“I will. With Eddie. Not you.”
Steve turned to walk to his room and ignore Robin for the rest of the day, but he could hear her footsteps following him.
He sighed and turned around.
“I’m fine. Eddie took care of me. I’m going back there tonight so we can talk. I’ll keep my location on and you can check in with both of us, okay Mom?”
“Wait wait wait wait. You’re going back there tonight?” Then, she seemed to remember how he even ended up with Eddie. “WAIT! Your tattoo! Show me!”
Steve could do that much at least. He’d been talking about this tattoo for so long and he was really excited about how it turned out.
Eddie had unwrapped it and done the first round of cleaning and moisturizing, making sure Steve was paying attention so he could do it by himself today.
He hadn’t been able to look away from it for nearly ten minutes, the colors more beautiful after the redness of his irritated skin went away.
He held his wrist out to Robin, unable to keep the smile from his face as she looked at it and smiled up at him.
“He did great with this. Will is gonna flip.”
“I hope he likes it. He has an appointment with me tomorrow so I’ll be able to show him.”
Will was one of his best kids. He never had to actually worry about his future, Will knew exactly what he wanted, got good grades, had nearly perfect attendance, and worked towards his goals without any help from Steve. He’d been through a lot though as a child, and his mom had insisted that he regularly meet with Steve just to talk.
He came to appointments once a week, but him, along with his two best friends Dustin and Mike, would often spend their lunchtime in Steve’s office. They weren’t exactly popular, and bullies targeted them often for their size and their interest in more nerdy things. Steve let them, even though the principal had told him he was setting them up for failure in real life. Steve always said this was real life and feeling safe wasn’t a failure.
But this tattoo would really mean a lot to Will. He hoped so, at least.
“When are you going to Eddie’s?”
“7.”
“Bring protection.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen.”
Robin just gave him a look and walked away.
Nothing was gonna happen. Eddie said so.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
When Steve got to Eddie’s place, he was already home, and…cooking?
“Something smells good.”
Steve made his way into the house, brushing past Eddie and looking around. He hadn’t spent much time noticing things earlier, but now he could.
There was a lot of art on the walls, but none of it looked like what was at the shop. This looked more abstract, with a few random watercolors sprinkled in. He noticed pictures frames along the shelves and bookcase that held more records than books. The coffee table looked cluttered, mostly books and sketches spread out along the top.
The couch was old, but looked comfy, and the armchair in the corner seemed mostly unused. A few hats hung from the corner it was placed in, none of them looking like anything Eddie would wear.
Did he have a roommate? Is that how he could afford a house?
“You can set your stuff in my room if you want. You remember where it is?”
Eddie’s voice being so close behind him startled him, but he immediately relaxed when he felt a hand on his hip.
“I remember.”
Eddie squeezed his hip once before letting him go, walking towards the kitchen instead of following Steve.
Steve took in the pictures hanging up in the hall, but didn’t get a close look at any, already rushing to get back to Eddie so they could talk. Robin had given him another look before he left that said there’d be more than talking happening tonight, but he really trusted Eddie when he said they’d be taking it easy.
He dropped his bag on Eddie’s bed, smiling to himself when he saw that the bed was made.
Eddie didn’t seem like the type of person to make his bed, so maybe he was trying to impress him?
Steve shook the thought away. Nothing is happening tonight. He may not even want you in his bed after you talk.
He made his way back out to the kitchen, where Eddie was closing the oven door and placing a casserole dish of something that smelled like heaven on the stove.
“What did you make?”
“Breakfast casserole.”
“Breakfast? For dinner?”
Eddie smirked. “No laws can hold me down.”
Steve resisted the smile he felt trying to creep onto his face.
Eddie really did a number on his whole “I don’t smile for anyone” exterior.
“What’s in it?”
“Well, normally I do a french toast one that has fruit and maple syrup, but you didn’t seem like the type to enjoy that.”
“Excuse me? That sounds amazing,” Steve crossed his arms across his chest and stared at Eddie.
“We can have that next time.”
Next time, next time, next time.
“This one is hashbrowns, cheese, eggs, and bacon with biscuits as the base.”
“That sounds…heavy.”
“We can eat heavy. We don’t have any physical activity to commit to later.”
Steve couldn’t help it, he started pouting.
A small part of him had hoped that maybe after they talked, something would happen. Not necessarily sex or even subspace, but some making out, maybe some handjobs? Yeah, he’d hoped.
But he recognized the boundaries Eddie was setting, and he respected him for sticking to them, even if he really wished he didn’t.
Eddie poked Steve’s bottom lip playfully.
“No need to pout. If our discussion goes well, maybe next time?”
“Promise?”
“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you?”
“I dunno. Am I?”
“And a brat. Noted.”
Steve had never, not even at peak spoiled rich kid, been called a brat. Not even jokingly. He was a little offended, but he could see the hint of a smirk on Eddie’s face letting him know that would be part of their discussion.
“Are we gonna talk during dinner or after?”
“That’s up to you. I’m happy either way, sunshine.”
Steve felt warmth spreading in his chest at the nickname. He’d never been called sunshine either. Being terminally grumpy since your teenage years kind of eliminates that possibility.
“I have some questions so maybe we could start there during dinner?”
Eddie nodded and turned to grab plates and forks for dinner.
“Before you start though, I wanna make sure you know that I will always be honest and do my best to answer your questions, but there are some things I don’t know. I’m not a professional. I’m certainly experienced, but there may be things you want to know that I’ve never done. I don’t want to mislead you, so if there’s stuff you still need to know after this, I have contacts who can probably help.”
Steve felt so out of his depth here. Eddie had fucking contacts for this.
“Stevie? You okay?”
Steve shook himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let himself feel nervous about this. Eddie was kind and wanted him to understand and wouldn’t expect anything of him. He could do this.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry. Just feels a little overwhelming.”
Eddie paused mid-scoop and glanced at Steve. He set the serving spoon in the dish and walked the few steps over to Steve, wrapping his arms around him gently and hugging him to his chest.
Steve quickly found his spot, nuzzling against his collarbone like he belonged there.
“That’s why we’re taking this slow, having discussions first. You can’t go into all of it the way you did last night. It’s dangerous.” Eddie rubbed his back slowly and Steve fought back the noises trying to escape from his chest. “I won’t feel comfortable doing anything at all with you until we’re both comfortable, okay?”
Steve nodded against his chest.
Eddie pulled back and tilted his chin up to look at him.
“You have to use your words, sunshine.”
“Okay.”
“You understand what I said?”
“I understand.”
“Good boy.”
Steve couldn’t contain the whine he let out. Jesus Christ, what was happening to him? He’d never been like this. He’d never made that noise before in his life.
“Alright, sunshine. Let’s eat.”
Steve didn’t want to separate from him, but Eddie didn’t go too far. He made sure Steve was right next to him as he grabbed their plates and walked to the table, setting them down next to each other instead of at the chairs across from each other.
“Don’t want you too far,” Eddie said with a fond smile.
Steve hated the way his heart skipped a beat. Eddie was going to send him into cardiac arrest if he kept this up.
But he did his best to ignore it, take a deep breath, and sit down in the chair.
His anxiety was high, and he was worried he may not be able to even eat, but Eddie took a bite and looked at Steve expectantly.
Steve picked up his fork and took a bite.
“Damn, this is good.”
“Thanks, sunshine. It’s hard to fuck this one up, but I’m glad you like it.”
Steve smiled at him and took another bite.
Where to begin?
He knew Eddie would let him lead, acting as more of a guide for the conversation than anything else, but Steve suddenly didn’t know where to begin.
“Um. I guess I kinda wanna start by saying something?”
Eddie nodded, smiling softly at him and showing him that he could be patient with whatever Steve needed to say, even if it took him some time.
“I’m not, like, a virgin. I mean I know when it comes to this stuff I kind of am, but I’ve had a lot of sex. With women and men. I mean, I almost got engaged once. I’m not new to that.” He ignored the amused look on Eddie’s face and continued, though his voice wavered. “And I’ve seen some stuff in porn or whatever. I’m not completely oblivious to how this works.”
“I don’t think you should go off of what you’ve seen in porn.” Eddie cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, I just didn’t want you to think that’s accurate at all. Most vanilla porn isn’t even accurate, let alone any type of BDSM stuff. I don’t want you to think I have a dungeon or something with whips and chains attached to the walls. That isn’t what this is about for me or most anyone, really.”
Steve felt himself flush.
He’d said he wasn’t a virgin, but he’d never talked so openly about sex with anyone. He reminded himself that Eddie was still very much a stranger to him, and this kind of talk is something that close friends or significant others might have.
“What is it about? For you, I mean?”
There. That was a good start. Learning more about what Eddie did might help Steve understand what he was trying to accomplish.
“I mean, for everyone it’s about power and control or submission. But everyone has different ways of accomplishing those things and things they’re comfortable with.” He took another bite and chewed while he seemed to think of his answer. “For me, it’s about being in charge of someone’s release, whether it be sexual or not. Making someone feel good in a way they can’t experience on their own or with someone else. Having the power to know exactly what they need and give it to them or hold back. Find what makes that person tick and use it to make them feel better than ever.”
“That’s what you like? Seeing someone else get off?”
Eddie let out a small chuckle.
“I guess in a simplified way, sure. But that doesn’t always happen. You didn’t get off last night did you?”
“No, but I was dropping apparently.”
“Before that though. You still got to subspace, and you stayed there a while, even though you never got sexual gratification from it. You just felt good. Sometimes feeling good just means a plateau, not a peak and then fall, ya know? I like to help someone maintain that plateau as long as possible.” He took another bite and nudged Steve to do the same. “I love helping someone peak, too. But that isn’t always on the table.”
“What if I want it to be?”
“Getting ahead of yourself, sunshine. How about you have a couple more bites while I talk?”
Steve nodded and took another bite, watching Eddie as he formed his thoughts.
“Sex is obviously a part of this. I won’t say it doesn’t end that way most of the time. But there are parts of this that aren’t sexual at all that are still just as good. Your tattoo wasn’t sexual at all, right?” Steve shook his head. “Exactly. But you got there. Sometimes, it’s more just giving up the control. Some subs don’t even like the sex parts, you know. They like someone to give them rules and tasks to follow and punishments for when they don’t. I have a friend who is a sub who doesn’t even take off his clothes during his sessions. It’s different for everyone and it’s usually trial and error. That’s why safety and trust is such a big part of it.”
Steve felt like his head was spinning.
“Is that why people use safewords?”
“Yeah or the stop light system, or in some cases, just physical signs. That has to be agreed on before you ever go into a scene, even if it's someone you’ve done scenes with before and trust. You may love being spanked until you bruise on Saturday, but end up hating it on Monday if you’re not in the right headspace for it. It’s not just the sub trusting the dom with everything, it’s the dom trusting that the sub will use their safeword if they can’t keep going. Sometimes that’s hard for people to understand. It goes both ways. Both parties have control, just in different ways.”
“You know a lot about this.”
“I’ve been in a few serious relationships with the dynamic and all my friends have been part of the scene for years. What I don’t know firsthand, I’ve heard plenty about.”
“Okay, but what if I do want the sex stuff to be part of it?”
“If you do, then you have to be open about hard limits before you start. You have to have a safeword and use it if things start to go bad. You have to let yourself test the waters, but not jump into them if that makes sense.”
Steve nodded. It did make sense. He was probably jumping the gun a bit, but he felt like maybe he could trust Eddie to find and test his limits.
“So you wouldn’t wanna do that with me?”
“I didn’t say that, Stevie.” Eddie turned to him and placed his hands on his knees, massaging them lightly. “I’m not a jump right into anything kind of guy, even with just plain vanilla sex. But I’m really careful about starting with sex stuff right off the bat. Oh, stop pouting, sunshine. I’m not saying no.”
“But you’re saying no now.”
Steve knew he was still pouting, and maybe being a bit unreasonable. He normally took things slow too, at least when it came to more than random handjobs or blowjobs at the club. It still made him feel like Eddie might not be interested in him the way he was interested in Eddie.
“I’m saying not yet. There’s a difference. I’d love to be able to do that with you. But you need to experience more first.”
“Like what?”
Eddie studied his face for a moment. Steve felt like he could see right through him, which would have alarmed him more if he wasn’t certain that Eddie was going to be able to make him float again.
“You like to be praised.”
It wasn’t a question, but Steve nodded. He’d figured that much out at least.
“That’s a good start. You can be praised for a lot of things. Sometimes just being told to sit still and being told you’re doing good can make a person float, you know.”
Steve didn’t think he could do that. He certainly believed some people could, but he figured it would take a lot more for him.
“I don’t think I can do that.”
“Do you want to try?”
“Now? I thought we weren’t doing anything tonight?”
Steve was suddenly overwhelmed with nerves again. Despite the fact that he’d wanted something to happen when he first got here, he was now wondering why the hell he thought that was a good idea.
“It doesn’t have to be now. But it would certainly be a good start when you’re ready. Simple, non-sexual, easy to safeword out of if you get uncomfortable, unlikely to drop from it. It’s just an idea. You can always say no.”
Steve didn’t want to say no. He was nervous, sure, but he wanted it. He wanted to try. He wanted to make Eddie proud.
“Could we try tonight?”
“If you finish your supper and we talk about a safeword, yes.”
Steve took three more bites and ignored Eddie’s laughter at his clear excitement.
“So, what can we use for a safeword?”
“Up to you, sunshine. Mine is Metallica.”
“Can I use yours?”
Eddie thought about it for a moment.
“For tonight, yes. But you should have your own in the future.”
“Don’t like sharing?”
Steve smirked at Eddie, who rolled his eyes but smiled fondly back at him.
“More like you may not want to keep doing scenes with me and having your own safeword is best.” He got up and brought their plates to the sink while Steve waited patiently in his chair. “You can go sit on the couch. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”
Steve sat on the couch with his hands folded in his lap, trying to push away any nerves he had over what they were about to do. If all went how he hoped, he’d maybe go to subspace again. Eddie sounded like he could get him there, but he didn’t know exactly what Eddie would have to do.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Eddie came into the room and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side.
“Alright. We’re gonna relax for a few minutes first. You’re tense and you won’t be able to just go right into it.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, sunshine. Just let me hold you for a few minutes, okay?”
Steve wanted nothing more than to never leave Eddie’s side, his arm wrapped just tight enough around him so he felt like he couldn’t escape, his body warming him up just enough for comfort.
He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, and he didn’t really care, all he knew was the next time Eddie moved, he had to open his eyes.
“Alright, sunshine. Gonna move you a little so your head is in my lap, okay?”
“Mhm.”
Eddie adjusted him so he was laying with his head in his lap and his legs out along the length of the couch. He had a hand in Steve’s hair, scratching at his scalp gently, while his other hand was tracing circles on his arm.
“Mmmm. ‘S good,” Steve mumbled against Eddie’s thigh as he let his eyes slip closed again.
“Good.” He felt a gentle tug on his hair and his eyes shot open. Eddie was smirking down at him, but went back to gently scratching at his scalp. “Just testing. You remember the safeword?”
“Metallica.”
“Good boy. You use it the second you feel like you have to.”
Steve ignored the flutters in his stomach at being called a good boy again.
It went on like this for a little while, nothing new happening. Steve started to wonder if Eddie understood what the purpose of this was, when he suddenly felt Eddie stop all movement.
He whimpered, then felt Eddie’s hand tug at his hair harder.
“You have to stay quiet, sunshine. Keep being a good boy for me.”
His tone was different. Not quite stern, but not as soft as before either. Steve didn’t have to know him better to know that he should listen to him.
“I’m going to watch a show. You just sit right there for me and look pretty.”
Oh. Jesus Christ.
Steve was already hard. From that? Really Steve?
He managed to stay quiet this time, but he knew the second Eddie touched him again he would moan.
But Eddie didn’t touch him again.
He turned on the tv and casually looked for a channel. When he found one, he watched with his hands by his sides, not even resting against Steve’s skin.
Steve knew this must be part of it or they wouldn’t be doing it, but he felt himself growing frustrated at not getting any attention.
Minutes passed like that. Steve wondered when Eddie would acknowledge him again, but didn’t want to risk saying something.
Then a hand was in his hair, playing with the ends as if Eddie had never stopped.
Steve let out a content sigh and closed his eyes again.
“Being so good for me, sunshine.”
Steve smiled to himself, keeping his eyes closed so he could relax fully against Eddie’s lap.
The noise from the tv turned distant, but the fingers in his hair felt like fire. Or maybe ice. Both? Could be both. They just felt nice.
Steve drifted, not realizing he was going until he was already gone.
Eddie knew the moment it happened’ Steve’s entire body relaxed entirely against him and the couch, and he let out a sigh that could’ve been held in for years with how loud it was. He didn’t open his eyes, but Eddie didn’t need to see them to know they’d be glazed over.
“So perfect, Stevie. Feeling good, huh?”
“Mmm.”
Eddie smiled down at him, even though he wouldn’t see it.
He wouldn’t let him stay down for long, just for the rest of the show.
Not that he was watching the show.
Not when he had Steve in his lap, floating away because of his gentle touches and words.
Chapter 5
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Text
Road Not Taken | Bang Chan
Synopsis: When your parents tell you that you're to marry the mayors son, Seo Changbin, you're left with two choices. Do you take the easy and sure route with nothing but green grass or do you take the path that's a bit less predictable and rough?
Pairings: au Bang Chan x Female Reader
Content Includes: Fluff, Forbidden romance, Secret romance, Strict parents, A sexually suggestive moment, Runaway, Happy ending, The Notebook vibes, Rich girl x not so rich guy
•Short but sweet. wc 2k•
an: Inspired by the poem The road not taken by Robert Frost and Chan quoting the poem when he talked about yellow wood in the intro.
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“Y/N are you listening? Your father is talking to you.” Your mom sighs and rolls her eyes. “Honestly, get your head out of the clouds. This is a great opportunity and Seo Changbin is a great catch. He's so handsome and strong. Not to mention he'll be mayor one day after his father. You'll be the mayor's wife y/n doesn't that sound wonderful?” She gushes, clasping her hands together happily looking lovingly at your dad, who was the governor.
What is this, some eighteenth century life you're living? Why do you have to marry some guy just because he's rich and smart? Yeah sure, Changbin is great, literally at everything but... You've known him since you were in preschool. Even went to the same prep school together too so you know just how amazing of a guy he is. He's just not your type. He's more of a big brother to you. The problem though, you've always done as you were told. Take up horseback riding even if you were terrified? Yep. Harp even if it made your fingers blister and bleed? Of course. So how could you possibly look your parents in the face and defy them? Your dad looks at you with such a proud expression that you feel like shit for even thinking about going against him.
“Yes.” Is all you can say because the false smile and enthusiasm you give, takes everything out of you.
“That's my princess. You make your mother and I so proud of you. Really, we're so lucky. Isn't that right Grace?” Your dad pats your mother's hand still looking at you and she nods in agreement.
“The luckiest.” She chimes in. “Now make sure not to be late for your piano lessons; your recital is next week.” waving a dismissing hand.
Her large wedding ring and perfectly manicured nails shine in the sunlight that spills through the multiple windows of the conservatory. Removing the white cloth from your lap and setting it onto the table next to your barely eaten lunch, you stand up and leave. The entire conversation replays repetitively in your mind that you don't see your little sister leaving her room and you bump into almost butting heads.
“Shit, I'm sorry sis. I didn't see you. You're not hurt are you?” You fuss over her and she slaps your hands away smiling.
“Jeez will you chill. I'm fine. Where's your head at though?” She questions you, crossing her petite arms over her chest. Her large eyes look up at you and you briefly think back to a few hours ago when you were that carefree. Hopefully she won't share your fate in a few years seeing as she's only four years younger than you.
“Mom and dad just dropped a bomb on me.” Sighing, you lean back against the perfectly decorated wall behind you. “I'm set to marry Seo Changbin.” You finish and your sister's eyes light up.
“Oh my god, no way?” She whispers and covers her mouth. “You're so lucky. I'd give my left ear to marry that man. Have you seen his arms?”
When she giggles you can't help but join in. Just like Changbin, her laugh is infectious. The two of you gossip about boys a little longer in the hallway before you reluctantly make your way to your room to quickly shower and change your clothes before your lessons. Piano lessons were not only important to your mom but even more important to you.
Chris Bang, your piano teacher and the love of your life, secretly for the past two years, makes the lessons worth every second of struggling over the piece you decided to play for your recital. River flows in you by Yiruma has been a favorite of yours since you were really little and because you've heard it so many times you thought it would be easy. It isn't, not even remotely. The increasing tempo is where you seem to struggle and Chris will often tell you “Don't fear a little accelerando baby.”
Seeing his face when you walk in erases all the stress from your body and mind. He's like a hard reset to your mental health. The way his eyes sparkle and even smile along with him, the two dimples perfectly placed on either side of his beautiful mouth and the enveloping scent of smokey vanilla that surrounds you when he pulls you in for a tight hug, it all chases away all the bad and heals you.
“There's my beautiful girl. Gosh, I missed you.” He greets you with open arms that go around your waist when you stroll into him. His lips leave feathery light kisses all over your face making you chuckle softly.
“I missed you too babe.” You happily reply and push his blonde hair back from his brow. In contrast to how heavy your heart felt earlier it feels lightweight now.
His lips find yours turning the sweet embrace into something more intimate. Inside the family library, it's the only space you two are never interrupted. No one, not even staff dare disturb your lessons, not after your mom fired the last person that did so. It was completely uncalled for, the poor guy only came in the room to dust while you were going through the notes and when you messed up your mother blamed him. Now it's a haven for you and Chris. The two of you have spent hours studying each other's body's more times than you've actually studied the music. Thank God that Chris is a good teacher, you're able to show off your progress if or whenever your mom decides to show interest. So when his hands move from your waist and grips your ass you don't stop him.
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“Well now that that part of the lesson is over, what do you say you show me what else your fingers can do?” Chris suggests playfully still breathing heavily above you with a cocky smirk.
“Oh my gosh,” you giggle and cover your face. “you're such a dork but I love you.”
The moment is blissful and if you could lay like this under him for eternity, you gladly would. Unfortunately though, the large black Steinway grand piano sits waiting for you because if your mom doesn't hear any playing she won't hesitate to barge in. So you two unreluctantly separate and get dressed, hands and lips refusing to stray away from each other for too long.
Sitting on the shiny black surface of the piano's bench, your fingers hover over the keys as you inhale deeply through your nose and then exhale slowly out your mouth. The pads of your fingertips lightly press down on the ivory keys in front of you and begin moving effortlessly. Your eyes close upon hearing the sad yet happy music you create. Due to how many times you've played this piece it's become second nature now but when the crescendo approaches you become more focused and tense up.
“Relax babes, you can do this.” Chris whispers in your ear and you breathe him in.
Your fingers move, gradually picking up speed feeling calm and at ease knowing Chris is behind you and believing in your abilities. The worst is over and the tempo slows, ending with a beautiful climax.
“See baby, I knew you could do it!” Chris cheers coming around from behind you to stand beside the instrument and look at you. “Woah woah what's the matter? What happened y/n, why are you crying?” He gently takes your face in his hands stroking your cheeks with his thumbs wiping away the tears that rapidly fall from your eyes.
With the day's news finally getting to you, you break down and tell him everything. About the arrangement and how you are terrified of disobeying your parents but most of all you tell him that the last thing you want to do is be with someone that isn't him. That thought alone fills you with dread and makes you sick to your stomach. Changbin is a good man but he isn't Chris and you could never love another man the way you love him. You're pulled into his strong arms as he consoles you, the soft singing coming from him soothes you until you're able to calm the sobs that wrack through you.
“It's okay baby girl. Don't be sad. I know that I may not have a lot...” He pauses and scoffs at himself, resting his chin on top of your head, still holding you tight. “Honestly the only thing I have a lot of, is the love that I have for you. So whatever path you decide to take I'll always love you.”
“After all this time I still get amazed at how perfect you are, Christopher.” You tell him, voice slightly muffled against his chest, followed by sniffling as you hold back fresh tears that threaten to spill by his words.
He chuckles and his body shakes lulling you like a newborn. Chris's actions and words only proves your point, how can you love someone other than him? There's no one that could possibly take his place, you know that. What you don't know is how you're going to let your family down and tell them that you won't be marrying Seo Changbin. How do you disappoint your parents in a way that won't entirely shatter their hearts to the point where they just cut you off or abandon you? They could never do that to you… could they? That night you replayed Chris's words in your head so much that you gave yourself a headache. Sitting up in bed, after having tossed and turned for a good three hours you ran through all possible scenarios.
If you chose the easy path and agreed to be with Changbin you were sure how your life would be. Exactly like your mother's life. As a rich wife with a simple, boring, predictable life full of other people who just care about money and social politics. You'd spend your days with other wives, expected to dress and act a certain way all while losing a part of yourself if not all. Choosing Chris however, things would be uncertain. You have no idea what the future could possibly hold for you both. There could be rough terrain along the way but you were certain that you would be happy. That you both would get through whatever life decided to throw at you. As long as love continued to bloom and grow like a well taken care of flower, you two would be okay.
Jumping out of bed you look at your phone and see it's just past 5am but it's now or never. Grabbing a backpack from the closet and emptying it of any forgotten items you shove some clothes and a few important items inside. Your heart races and mixed emotions flood through your chest. Fear, excitement, guilt, nervousness and sadness sit comfortably at the top of the iceberg that is you. You keep moving silently throughout your room though, making sure you've got everything that you need.
“Just in case.” You whisper outloud to yourself. ‘Just in case they don't let me come back.’ That thought sits heavy on your heart but it doesn't derail your plans. You've made up your mind.
You're not going to play it safe by marrying Changbin. You've been playing it safe all your life. The uncertainty of taking a path that not many would travel down is scary. All the ‘what ifs’. If you could take both paths some way you would but that's not possible. It's a risk but for love and for Chris, you'd gladly make this choice again. Glancing around the room one last time, a last minute thought springs to your mind and you walk over to your desk to write your parents and sister and note.
“Mom and Dad, please don't be too upset with me. I'm leaving with Chris. I love him and I just couldn't see myself doing as I'm told this time. I hope you can find it in your hearts to continue to love me just the same. If you allow me to, I'll be back someday soon. Sweet little sister go and get Changbin, yeah? He'd be lucky to have you as a wife instead of me anyway we both know that. I love you three. I won't be far but I also won't change my mind.”
With a satisfied sigh you fold the paper in half and set it on your pillow. Your palm lays flat on the surface and you silently say goodbye to the life you had always known for something grander. Love. As the sunrise casts a golden hue on the horizon, you run towards the woods with nothing but the clothes you're wearing and a backpack slung over your shoulder. The sounds of the wildlife waking up throughout the yellow wood around you sounds so beautiful and it keeps your feet moving. The small house fenced in just past the woods comes to view and you smile breathlessly.
Rapping your knuckles on the white painted wooden door you chew on your bottom lip and wait for Chris to open up. Curly, messy blond hair peeks through the crack in the door when he slowly opens it. Almost in unison when he realizes it's you visiting him this early, his sleepy eyes and the door widens.
“Y/n baby what are you doing here?” his eyes go from your face down to the backpack that you now clutched in your hand and he lets out a small gasp that lights you up. “You really chose me?” His voice sounds so small like he can't believe it.
“Yes, I did. How could I not?” you give him a lopsided grin and wink playfully.
He grabs you in his arms and kisses your lips over and over, pecking them with a huge grin on his face. Setting you down, looking down into your eyes with so much love and longing he tells you that he'll make it his life's mission to make you happy every day and to not only tell you but show you just how much he loves you. You could feel your heart swelling from his words and your emotions bubbling up inside. Didn't he know he made you happy everyday already?
Setting your hand into his and interlocking your fingers you look up at him and sweetly smile. “No matter what storms we encounter, I'll always be there holding my hand out to you. I'll never regret the path I've decided to take at your side. I made a choice for love and that will make all the difference.”
The End.
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Sidenote: I wanted to end this the same way the poem ended so there won't be a part 2. Just know they lived happily ever after.
Her sister married Binnie and her parents eventually got the stick out of their asses and were cool with her living her best life as Mrs. Y/N Bang lol ♡ if you've never read the poem or listened to the track Road Not Taken from skz's Yellow Wood album I definitely recommend both.
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callmissrogers · 2 months
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There For His Girl | Steve Rogers x Reader One Short
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Summary: Y/n has reached her limit. Work has been difficult. People have been short, and some just mean. It all brings her back to her childhood, and right now, she just wants to pretend to be ok. So determined to pretend she tries to push her concerned husband away.
WARNINGS ⚠️ This contains mentions of a toxic relationship with the reader's mother and quotes some of their arguments. If this is a trigger for you, please DO NOT proceed. It also contains angst, fluff, and comfort. Also, very little editing and wrote on my phone.
Steve Rogers x wife reader
Word count: 1,370
Notes: The next part in the That's My Girl series will be going up today or tomorrow. I was feeling the need for some comfort myself, so this is what I wrote. Hope you like it!
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Y/n slammed the door, tears streaming down her face she pressed her back into the wall and slid down until she was a small ball on the floor.
"Why do I do this?" She sobbed hating herself.
Y/n had had a rough few days. It seemed like no matter what she did or said, people were short with her. Everything was going wrong, and after one mistake, which led to a snarky backhanded compliment from Tony Stark himself, well, Y/n was done. Usually, it didn't get to her like this anymore, but her emotions frayed to a breaking point.
Her dad always told her she wore her heart on her sleeve but she just thought her mom was right and that instead of enduring this made her a nuisance.
Why should she be so bothered when people utter unkind things to her?
Why can't she pull herself together?
"You're always start crying! Stop trying to make me feel bad"
"You're stabbing me in the back by trying to do something different"
"Don't you know I need you here? Stop thinking about yourself and making everything harder on me"
This and many other instances where y/n would be belittled, ridiculed, screamed at, lectured for two hours at 1 in the morning, and reduced to making herself as small and as unseen as possible while being a sobbing mess, had made her what she is today.
Too sensitive. At least that's what she told herself at times like this.
And why couldn't she just talk about it like a normal person instead of blowing something trivial out of proportion?
Literally five minutes ago....
Steve had come home the night before. Poor guy had been so tired that he fell asleep in uniform on the couch.
Y/n had been carefully tiptoeing around the kitchen so as not to accidentally wake him up. Intending to surprise him before heading to work.
She was supposed to be going over mission plans with Vision today. This was the kind of work that excited her. None of the agents would bother them while they were working, which meant that she could just disappear for the day.
She platted up breakfast and carried it over to set it on the coffee table in front of the sleep soilder.
Tho he didn't actually wake up until she set down his mug of coffee.
Eyes fluttering open he peered up at her groggyily. "Hi" He mumbled, pushing himself upright. "Hey sleepy head." Y/n said, trying to make her voice sound chipper.
Steve sighed contentedly as he stretched out his muscles before standing up.
"Mind if I go change clothes before I enjoy this masterpiece?" He asked. Y/n turned to face him, attempting to smooth down his wild bedhead and then said, "Go ahead"
He was back a matter of moments, settling down next to her and drinking deeply from his coffee.
"Thank you for this," He sighed leaning over and gently kissing her on the cheek. Y/n just nodded, trying to keep her mind on a healthy track she focused on eating.
"Did you sleep well?" Steve asked. Taking another bite, she thought about lying and telling him that she had had the best night sleep.
"Sorta" She said trying to stiffle a yawn. "What does sorta mean?" Steve asked turning to look at her. "Nothing really. I'm good! Nothing some strong coffee won't fix."
Steve placed his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him. He studied the dark circles, the faint tint of bloodshot in her eyes, how she held herself and her fiddling hands.
"Hm," He said, his voice low in his chest.
Y/n knew exactly what he was doing, shaking his hands off her shoulders and standing up she said, "I should probably get ready for work."
Steve stood up, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. "Y/n, you look exhausted." "I'm fine" "You're twirling your hair, which means you're not telling the truth." "Steve, c'mon I don't have time for this" "Y/n, it looks like you've been crying" She pulled his hand off her wrist and started to walk away from him, "I'm going to work." "Sweetheart, please just tell me what's - " "Steve! Please just listen to me and leave me alone!" She yelled, cutting him off. She ran off to the bedroom, and that's when the door slammed.
Steve stood there a moment, thinking about honoring her request and leaving her be. But his protective nature overtook him and he decided that the best thing to do would be to be there for his girl.
In the bedroom.
Y/n sat against the wall still crying into her hands, body trembling, thinking hateful thoughts about herself.
She heard Steve knock on the door, saying "Sweetheart, can I come in?"
When she didn't answer him, he slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
She could feel him kneeling down in front of her, "Sweetheart," He whispered, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear to which she only buried her face further.
The next thing that happened, was Steve scooping her up into his arms and settling down in the arm chair that sat in the room.
Somehow this just made her cry more.
"Oh honey, come on now. Take a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth." He soothed.
After about ten minutes of this, her crying settled down, breath becoming rhythmic.
Once he was sure that she had calmed down enough to be able to communicate with him, he asked his voice low and rumbling through his chest, "Do you wanna talk about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"
She nodded against his shirt. "Everything" she gasped. "Everything?" He asked, pulling her back so he could look her in the face. Dabbing away the leftover tears.
"I'm too emotional. Everything the last few days just hurts. I let everything get under my skin... I just. . Lately, people and Stark are just mean, or maybe I'm just too sensitive.. and now I've yelled at you, too." She said, trying to get up.
"Now hold on a minute, " He cooed, keeping her in place.
"What did Tony say?" "Nothing. I messed up and he was being sarcastic, but I'm such a mess that it hurt" she said her voice breaking. "Alright. Listen to me. One, you are not too emotional. The world tells everyone to button up and be cynical. You, my dear, are a light in all that mess. You do care and that's a very good thing -- I don't want you to listen to anyone that would belittle that, ok?" He asked getting a slow, uncertain nod in response. "Ok. Secondly, people can be mean, especially Stark. People also have power trips and want to pull people down to make themselves feel stronger or better. This means there's one thing you can always be certain of: Do you know what that is?" "What?" "They're wrong. Anyone who would belittle you to make a point or to win an argument or for any other reason, is just a bully." "But what if-" "ah. No what ifs. Thirdly, and this one is the one that's most important of the three." "Then why'd it come last?" She asked clearly beginning to feel a little bit better if she could tease him now. Steve simply rolled his eyes and continued,
"I want you to remember that when you're upset, you can always talk to me. No matter how silly it might make you feel, your feelings are safe with me." "Steve I just yelled at you for no rea-" "No. You had a reason. You were upset. I can see that and you know what that means? It means I can take it too. When I put this ring on your finger," He said taking her hand in his and running a finger across her knuckles. "I signed up for this. I'd rather have you get emotional than bottle things up and hide them from me."
Y/n looked down at their still intertwined hands and then back up at him. Nodding again and breathed out an "ok"
"Ok." Steve replied, giving her his usual comforting smile and kissing her forehead.
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a-aexotic · 1 year
Note
hii i feel like john b doesn't get nearly enough fics and i <3 your writing so could i request a fic where he's having a rough day so he comes over and reader does her whole nighttime routine w him to help de-stress? 💗💗
ren's notes ! yes i totally agree, john b is so overhated for what
pairing. john b x fem!reader
warnings. literally nothing except fluff and ward being ward
➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫
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Today was not John B's day.
He woke up in a shitty mood and everything else just went along with that. He burnt his pancakes, he forgot to pay the water bill so he was stuck with cold water as a shower. He forgot to do laundry so he had to wear his dirty clothes. And the Camerons were being more asshole-ish than usual.
He just wanted to go home and eat, relaxing while watching a TV show. So why did Ward make him clean the yacht for the second time this week?
He texted you throughout working and you felt really bad. You wanted to do something that would cheer him up.
He heard a ding and pulled out his phone.
Y/N:) 💋☀️ oh, im sorry to hear that baby:/
Y/N:) 💋☀️ do u wanna come over and watch something?<3 maybe that'll help
Y/N:) 💋☀️ i love u jb:)
He smiled at your texts as he sent a quick text back, not wanting to hear another lecture about phones from Ward again.
JB 😎 No worries babe 😘💕 I love u too
JB 😎 That sounds like heaven 😫 Be there at 6 x
--
Work couldn't have even sooner for John B. He was so excited to go see you; he's felt like it's been weeks even though in reality, it's only been maybe a day. Today just felt so long but he knew that one kiss from you, and all that stress would go away.
He pulled up to your house and quickly got out. He was prepared to spend the entire night with you, sleeping in your arms so that all his stress would melt away.
He knocked at the door and your mother answered, letting him know you had just got down with your shower and that you were upstairs. She also reminded John B to knock before going in.
As he was told, he knocked before going in.
"Mom, I'll be down in a minute, let me finish my skincare."
"It's not mom, It's John B."
You quickly jumped out of your chair and ran to the door, opening it and embracing John B. He smiled at your enthusiasm.
"Oh, John B. I missed you."
He leaned into you, sighing in content. "Me, too, baby. Me, too."
"I was just going to finish my skincare and we can go get some popcorn and eat, okay?"
"Um, actually. I think after the day I've had, I need a mask."
You smiled at your boyfriend. Your glad your skincare is rubbing off on him because you wanted him to relax (you also didn't want him to age badly). "Of course, baby! Just uh, go take a quick shower and we can get started!"
He didn't even have the energy to be offended at your underlining comment so he just nodded and went into your bathroom, closing the door.
As he showered, you got the candy and popcorn ready. He got out and he sighed in relaxation. He then looked at the bowl next to your bed to find his favorite candy. "Ooo."
He took a handful before you came in with a huge grin on your face. "Okay, we have either a peach collagen mask or a vitamin d matcha mask."
He laughed immaturely at the mention of D. "Vitamin D, of course."
You rolled your eyes playfully as you put down the other mask, opening the vitamin d sheet mask. "Did you wash your face?" You asked before putting it on.
"Yes."
"With my CeraVe cleanser?"
He nodded and sighed as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. But if you asked him that a few months ago, he would've asked who CeraVe was and what a cleanser is. You're glad you've taught him well.
You smiled at that, nodding. "Good."
You put on the mask and John B felt his muscles relaxing from your soft touch, and the gentleness of the sheet mask on his face. "This feels so nice. I can't remember a time when I didn't use masks."
"Mhm, I bet your skin feels the same."
He sighed contently as you fully adjusted the mask to his face. You walked away towards your mini-fridge to get a Jade roller. You went back to John B and started massaging his face with it.
"Wow, this feels nice. Is how the rich feel?" John B commented as you laughed.
You kept massaging for a few minutes before stopping, making John B groan. You rolled your eyes.
"My arms hurt, John B, I can't do this until it dries."
He sighed and nodded, "Okay fine."
John B then went to go sit on your bed and turn on the TV as you put your mask on. John B then went to the bedside table and grabbed the popcorn, eating it happily.
You smiled at your boyfriend. You're glad that he feels better now. You got into the bed too, taking some of the popcorn and eating it.
"Okay, babe. It's your pick, what're we watching?"
"21 Jump Street."
You sighed. "... Again?"
"Oh shush, I know you love staring at Channing Tatum."
You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing it was true.
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chaenqen · 1 year
Text
1432 | n.rk
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n i s h i m u r a r i k i🎓📚📐
♖ pairings: student!riki & student!(gn)reader
♖ genres: fluff, classmates to lovers, drabble
♖ warnings: mathematics/studying but nothing else, lmk if I should add anything though !!
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“I told you it's not the correct answer!” I snapped at my classmate in disappointment.
“well, how am I supposed to know you ‘know-it-all’?” he teasingly said, head laying on his hand as he wiggled his eyebrows.
“I literally told you just a few minutes ago that 122×22÷2 does not equal 2222 Ni-ki!”
he obviously only plays dumb to frustrate me and I gotta say he manages to do so very well but I'm starting to believe that he actually doesn't know anything after trying to explain to him what quadratic equations are a few days ago…
“then tell me, what is the actual answer?” a tiny smirk creeped onto his face as he leaned in more. Ni-ki is only a classmate of mine but every time he does things like this I can feel the butterflies exploring the insides of my stomach.
I click my tongue in annoyance. even though I was flustered by his actions, I still tried to act tough “good try, but I won't tell you the answer” I stated. “You know it already, stop acting dumb, Ni-ki” I slid down in my chair, trying my best to not maintain eye contact but of course he noticed my intentions and moved closer again.
“I’m not acting, I really do not know~,” he noticed that I was ignoring him so he gave in and tried making a deal “ok fine, I will tell you the actual answer but I want something in return.” he sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.
I looked up at him with a clearly confused look on my face. “and that would be what?”
there was his signature smirk again, the one I can almost never get my eyes off.
“no wait, let me guess. I have to buy you a sandwich again, right? or no, I have to tell you the answers for our next exam or-”
“I want a kiss”
my mouth hung open in shock “huh?” I thought I didn't hear that right but I did “what? did you not get a kiss from your mom?” propping his arm up on the table and staring straight into my soul he spoke up again
“no, that is not the exact reason” he rolled his eyes “I just want a kiss from you”
“well uhm… I don't really need to hear the answer, you know? I'm glad you finally got it! so now write it down and-” I wasn't able to finish the sentence because a certain someone’s lips were pressed against mine.
“1342”
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thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed !! If you have any requests, my dms are open~ comments and reblogs are appreciated a lot !!
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bordysbae · 1 year
Note
Can you do surprising luca at his game
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“you made it!”
luca fantilli x reader
the wolverines have an away game on an outdoor rink in ohio, and your boyfriend luca has been begging you to fly out to watch the game. he even offered to pay for your plane ticket. at first you thought you were unable to make it, due to a family issue back home, but it all got resolved only two days before the boys leave for ohio. you texted luca’s mom letting her know you can in fact make it, and how you want to surprise him at the game. she loved the idea and paid for your ticket, despite you insisting that she doesn’t. you just landed in ohio and have to sneak around from luca until tomorrow afternoon at the game.
a few of his teammates are in on the surprise, his brother adam included. you, adam’s girlfriend molly, and rutger’s sister molly have been hanging out in your hotel room, and they’ve been giving you updates on where the boys are in the hotel/around the town. that way you can sneak around and not get caught.
there was one instance where you almost got caught, but thankfully rutger and gavin saw you before luca did, and distracted him as you snuck away to the elevators.
the next morning you and both mollys get ready together, dressing yourselves in michigan attire and colors. after taking cute pictures, you three head to the outdoor rink, waiting for the game to start. you all have an amazing time watching the game, even if the wolverines didn’t take the win.
once the game is over, you’re all brought to the end of the tunnel. you wait for luca as all of his teammates walk by with nothing but disappointed faces passing by you. “oh there’s adam!” molly excitedly says, rushing over to greet her boyfriend. they talk for a few moments before adam addresses you, “y/n hey! luca’s almost coming, but just so you know he’s really sad. he kept complaining about how much he wishes you we’re here, it was hard to keep my mouth shut,” adam chuckles as he walks away towards the locker room.
you notice luca walking in behind gavin, his head hanging low. it pains your heart to see his disappointment, but the second he hears your voice his head shoots up. “hey luca,” you smile, his mouth falling open. he immediately moves around gavin and pulls you into a hug, careful to not let his stick hit you as his arms wrap around your back.
“you made it!” he exclaims, pulling back from the hug as he looks down at you through the little black metal on his helmet.
“of course i did!”
“i thought you couldn’t make it! you told me you were at the airport cause you were flying home?”
“well it’s turns out i wasn’t needed at home, so i told your mom literally two days ago that i was able to make it, and she flew me out to ohio! i’ve been hiding in the hotel,” you chuckle.
“i’m so happy you’re here,” he smiles, examining your michigan themed outfit.
“yeah yeah go shower babe, you’re a little stinky,” you laugh, making him roll his eyes playfully as he walks away from you towards the locker room.
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sukunasdirtylaugh · 2 months
Text
a/n: based off of this piece I wrote literally like not even an hour ago I’m obsessed with these two. happy early Valentine’s Day to all 🤍
tags: gojo x f!reader, slowburn, reader is an older sister raising her brother and Satoru comes in, sort of like found family au, mentions of readers brother having an infection/going to the er and Satoru comforts reader, slight angst there but fluff at the end (inspired by this)
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Satoru doesn’t know when it was he loved you.
He thinks maybe it was the time you answered one of his lonely late night calls. When the moon is faint and the silence too loud for his liking. the floor is too cold and he thinks he’s nothing but a man, with blankets that can’t give him the warmth he seeks. Only those but your words can warm a home, and when he finishes talking to you that night, he feels like maybe there is something to look forward to.
But that was before he met you, the real you in flesh and bone. He wasn’t blessed hearing the sound of your laugh inside the same room, only through landline, and he wasn’t blessed with seeing you blush. He didn’t know how holy it would be be to hold your hand, or how fulfilled he felt when he drove you home after a night full of laughter. No, it wasn’t then.
It could have started when he saw how troubled you were after your sprained ankle that he sent an order of your favorite food to you and your brothers door. He also sent a pack of ice wraps that could help your ankle according to ichiji who always had foot problems and was an expert himself. but that wasn’t it.
Or maybe it was when he heard your distraught call, your brother’s fever had not decreased after 3 days and he had spent most of his days sleeping. He thinks it was then when he loved you, when he helped carry your 10 year old brother into the ER waiting for the doctors to give you reports. He had consoled you that night, your hair was messy and your shirt two days old as you cried into his chest. “I’m such a failure,” you cried into him, “mom... if only mom-”
“You’re doing such a great job, sweetheart.” He tells you, rubbing your back, holding you tight. “I can see it and your mom can too. You love him, and you’ve been doing everything you could, no one can deny it.” He tells you.
“I’ve never met anyone who actively measures every cup or hour, you haven’t slept for days, angel. We’re okay, we’re at the doctor’s. He’s in good hands, okay? I’m here.”
He remembered how you nodded against him and how it broke his heart seeing your tear stained face. It turned out your brother had a minor infection that medication given to him that night lowered all of his fever overnight. He stayed with you that night.
But it wasn’t then.
He found a new sense of love for you after he offered to fix your door. It was late winter, cold air would enter your loose door, and he offered to close a gap within the door that a few screws could fix. Of course, why not change your lock into something safer while he was at it? And if your brother was here too, why not show him too? Serves as a learning experience, and he liked the kid.
When he finished fixing your door, your smile made him feel proud, almost nudging at him to look for something else in your apartment that was broken that he could fix, but before he could do anything else, you spoke. “I thought about making you something. You know, to thank you for fixing my door.” That day, he learned to love your cooking, no matter how small or elaborate. If it was made by you, he would love it.
It finally struck him that he loved you when you were in the comfort of your own home. Your brother long asleep in his room as satoru watched you cook some late night dinner. The two of you had gone out eating, but were both half heartedly dissatisfied with the portions. Still hungry, you suggested making something in your home.
“I told you I could help you,” he gently nudges then pouts at your soft laugh as you stand before the stove.
“I know, but what’s the fun of it since I can’t spoil you, hm?” You smile.
“You should be angry at me, I picked a terrible restaurant.”
“Maybe I should,” you muse, “but I’m not. Maybe I’ll give you the burnt piece, how does that sound?”
“You should be crueler,” he sighs dramatically, “make me do the dishes or something.”
“Maybe. Or how about I don’t kiss you for the night instead?” he gasps dramatically.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I could...”
“That’s too mean.”
“You think?”
“Yeah,” he huffs, setting his chin on your shoulder as he watches you cook. His arms nicely wrap around your waist. “You’re too pretty.”
“And you’re too...” you huff, melting into his embrace, “sweet.”
“Yeah?” He whispers, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw.
“Yeah.” You breathe, closing your eyes as your bloodstream fills with euphoria as does his. Satoru buries his face against the part where your shoulder and neck meet before pressing a kiss there.
“I love you.”
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an unhinged (and unofficial) dissertation on the pjo fandom
so i don't usually post anything that isn't my-works-related, but i had a...mildly heated discussion with a fellow film student tonight about the pjo show and it's got me thinking. bear with me, we'll be here awhile.
as we all know, the first season of pjo has ended. i've stayed relatively OFF tumblr and other social media during this time, but i know there are a lot of OG fans who are (in their words) "massively disappointed" in the show. most of the complaints i've heard have been during in person conversations though, so this post is mostly going to be referencing real complaints i've heard.
i've been a part of this fandom since i was thirteen. that's nearly eight fucking years of my life that i've devoted to the pjo universe. i have written and consumed YEARS' worth of fanfiction, i have read and reread every book so many times i can quote them forwards and backwards, and i went to the bookstore every single year on the new books' release dates to pick up my copies in-person. this fandom, these characters and this world have brought so much joy to my life, and i don't think i could ever fully articulate that in words. when i think of this series, i genuinely feel nothing but happiness.
but a few years ago—around the time i started college—i started distancing myself from the fandom for one glaring reason. this fandom can be such an...angry place? like, genuinely, i don't know how far it goes back—maybe all the way to the release of HoA, honestly—but i wasn't here pre-HoA, so all i know is that i very much remember how much people hated ToA when it came out.
here i was, having the TIME of my life with apollo and his silly little haikus, and people are going to war over how the series' writing quality has gone to shit and how everything was better before, blah, blah, blah. IN SPITE of everything that series gave us—discussion of the repercussions of child abuse and ptsd, representation of lgbtqa+ characters, and deep psychological messages that really teach young readers, i think, how to better understand themselves and their emotions and deal with them in healthy ways. and it just wasn't fun to be in a fandom where, as soon as you go "hey, did you read the new book?" they scoff and roll their eyes and only want to talk about how terrible it is. (i also missed all the discourse on the sun and the star when it came out—PHENOMENAL read, btw—but i've read some things that lead me to believe that it wasn't well received either, in spite of how lovely it was.)
so...it's dramatic to say i "left" the fandom, but i certainly withdrew from it. deleted my pjo ao3 and tumblr, started over with a different fandom. but the love has always been there, and the show starting really helped spark it fully back to life.
but now, the same thing is happening again, i'm noticing. remember back in the day, when we only had the shitty fucking movies, and we were like "man, ANYTHING would be better than this garbage. literally just give us actors who are the right age and we'll be happy." well, now we have PHENOMENAL kid actors who genuinely are having a good time playing our beloved characters, and instead of supporting them, we're STILL complaining about them not being "portrayed correctly"?
i've talked to so many people who complain that percy is "too smart," which is kind of a bullshit insult to percy's canon character. in the books (at least the first five) we're seeing things ONLY from percy's pov. he's a kid who's struggled with learning disabilities and been told he's an idiot all his life by everyone except his mom—but as others have pointed out way more eloquently than i could, percy is a very intelligent and powerful individual while maintaining his goofy fun personality, which is WHY so many people love him so much. he's complex, and i think they managed to capture that really well in the show even amidst all the changes.
don't get me started on the fucking racism towards leah sava jeffries—i'm honest to gods ashamed that there are racists who call themselves pjo fans. she is so talented, and everything we ever could have hoped for in an on-screen annabeth. ALL of the kids are—there's literally no argument to be had there.
and then, if people aren't complaining about the casting, it's the series' writing. or there's too much exposition. rick is changing too many things. the directors don't know what they're doing. it's not a TRUE book adaptation. (someone said that to me, and i genuinely laughed because i thought they were joking. when the MOVIES exist, they wanted to make that comment about the show.)
are there some things i would change about the show, given the opportunity? god, yes. the set design for the underworld was horrendous. (in my opinion, of course.) but here's the thing. i have spent eight years of my life waiting for this show to happen, and in that time, i've learned a lot about how much goes into successfully producing such a complex series. how much money and time is spent, and how many people have to be on board to make it happen. it's genuinely kind of miraculous that we're even getting this show at all, considering all the ways it could have failed before it even made it out of pre-production.
and i think we, as fans, sometimes forget that we aren't owed this. we don't own the percy jackson franchise. it makes me so sick and tired when authors or artists in any capacity feel like they have to cater their works to the masses, because they know they'll get thrown into the fucking fire if they don't. rick and becky riordan didn't have to got to the trouble of producing this show for us. they chose to—everyone involved chose to—because they wanted to make something fun and enjoyable not only for the fans, but everyone who chose to be a part of it.
do you know how insane it is that, when you read pretty much any interview of pjo bts, everyone talks about how fun the production was? i've been on film sets. they can be ABSOLUTELY miserable when they're not done right. but eight months into production, the kids were still laughing and having a good time, everyone's still giving 100%, they're excited, it's fun. walker was willing to go into a diving tank for a full fucking day in order to get one scene—i know i would never have that kind of dedication, and i bet 99% of you wouldn't either.
i know this has gotten really long-winded, but i've said all of that to say that...i'm kind of tired of fans trying to bring down the show, and more than that, trying to bring down each other for having a good time. as i've said before (many times, i'm sure), i waited eight years for this, and i have had SUCH a fun time watching it. assuming we get a season 2 renewal, there are going to be even more new fans coming in than we've already gotten from season 1, and i want this fandom to be a fun and positive place for them. for all of us. we don't have to miserable and angry all time. we can critique the show, sure—it's not perfect, and it was never going to be—but we have to remember that television is an art form, and that art is subjective even when it involves our favorite characters. and we can accept that and still have a good time, because it's just more fun to have fun, you know?
this fandom has always had so much potential to be the BIGGEST, most supportive and kind and loving fandom. with how much representation this series has, with how much content we've been given, with the SHEER massive number of us...i've always thought we could be a really, really great community. maybe it's impossible to hope that we could be the best fandom on earth, but if nothing else...could we all try to just be a little bit kinder? genuinely, as cheesy as it may sound...it's just nicer when we're nice to each other. and when there's so many real things in the world to be mad about...i would much rather this be a place where we can come to at the end of a long day and just...feel at home. personally, i just think that would be really, really nice.
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igncrxntripley · 1 year
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Hey hey.. it’s your fav Dominik simp 😮‍💨
It’s Mother’s Day in the UK and I lost my mother unfortunately soooo I was wondering if you could do some Dominik comfort if you’re feeling it?
(I’ll end up re reading jd smut anyway but I thought I’d ask 🫶)
loss
a/n: literally anything for you ❤️ i hope this makes your day, sending you all the love!!
synopsis: dominik comes home to comfort you on one of the most difficult days of the year.
tags: SFW, grief, loss, mention of death, crying, fem!reader
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Nothing about Mother’s Day was easy for you; a holiday you once loved celebrating turned into a memory after you lost your mother almost a year ago. Dominik knew this day was difficult as well and he wanted to do everything in his power to make you feel at least a little bit better, but he also knew it was going to be difficult. He did his best though by sending you a voice message early that morning, as did your other close friends and family who knew how difficult today was going to be for you. 
You’d found yourself on the couch for the majority of the day waiting for Dominik to get home from the airport. You had a box full of pictures and anything sentimental relating to your mom in front of you, curled up in her favorite blanket as you sorted through pictures. Even though there was a smile on your face getting to see her in some of your favorite memories, that didn’t make it hurt any less. Tears rolled down your cheeks the entire time, and eventually you stopped holding back the quiet sobs that threatened to leave your lips. You didn’t even hear Dominik open the front door. 
When Dominik walked in and saw you, his heart broke immediately. He wanted to be home from the moment you woke up but he also had to work with a busy travel schedule. Luckily he was able to get home as soon as management would allow him, but that didn’t make him feel any less bad about it. Dom’s face fell when he heard your soft cries and he abandoned his bags by the door. “Babe…” he said softly, watching you turn your head to look at him as he made his way to the couch. “Dom, I-I…” you started to say, but Dominik shook his head in response and sat next to you on the couch. As soon as his arms were around you, you started to sob even harder. 
“I know, baby. I know.” Dominik whispered into your hair as he let you cry into his chest. He shifted your body so it was in his lap and his grip tightened on you. “It’s n-not fair.” You cried, and he nodded in response. “It’s not fair. But we’re going to get through it.” Dom responded, running a hand through your hair as his body slowly rocked back and forth. 
Eventually your sobs died down into sniffles, your hand reaching over to grab some pictures of your mom that you’d been looking at before. Dominik looked at them with you, letting you sit in a comfortable silence to grieve your loss. “She would’ve loved you.” You told Dom softly, making him give the tiniest smile into your hair. “She always told me to find a strong man to take care of me.” You looked up at him, his thumb coming up and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I have a feeling I would’ve loved her too.” Dominik said softly. “Show me some more pictures of her.”
You spent the next few hours sorting through pictures with Dominik, telling him all about your family and the moments behind those pictures. He got to see birthday parties, special events, holidays, anything that was sentimental. He also got to tease you for the pictures of younger you, and you made a mental note to get payback for that later. 
Dom spent the rest of the day doing things with you that made you happy; he cooked every meal, watched your favorite tv shows, and ran a hot bath for you that you asked him to join. As you two laid in the tub, bubbles surrounding your bodies and you leaning back into his chest, you looked up at him with a smile. “Thank you for everything.” You said softly as Dom leaned down to kiss your nose. “Anything for you, baby.” He said, his fingers dancing on your skin under the water. “I know I can’t fix it, but I’ll do whatever I can to make it better.” You leaned up to give him his own gentle kiss, smiling for one of the first times that day. “You did a pretty good job.”
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Am I the asshole for watching a movie as a family without including my dad? Writing it out, I think I know the answer, but this has still been bugging me.
Around Thanksgiving I (30s) visited home. It was also a trip to see for my mom (late 60s) for her birthday, so I was there for a few days longer than a Thanksgiving trip would normally account for. My brother (30s) and his wife (30s) visited for her birthday too. My dad (early 70s) was there as well. They've been married over 30 years. Originally I'd planned to take everybody out to see a movie as a birthday present for my mom...but it turned out there was literally nothing at the theater that my mom was interested in at all. The town is pretty small, and the options were limited. So instead, we started out with a nice dinner, and family board game run-through of a trivia game we all thought we'd have some fun with. My mom ended up winning, which is rare and was not deliberate, and it wrapped the game up way faster than we'd anticipated.
My dad immediately went back into the living room after the game ended, openly a little annoyed that mom had won a trivia game based on something he considers himself the family expert in. He watches old reruns of the show he's seen a million times on a loop every day, and it can be pulling teeth to get him to do anything else. It was just a fluke, but something the rest of us considered a pleasant surprise since none of us had expected she'd win. But he was annoyed. Given that it was still early, Mom suggested we find a movie to watch online, so we could all wind down before bed with something the whole family could enjoy.
Dad said no. Now this feels like important context: I...have a lot of problems with my dad. I love him, but he can be extremely emotionally immature. Downright verbally abusive at times. And very petty. I'm in therapy in no small part due to some of the insecurities he instilled in me over the years. I've worked hard to set basic boundaries with him. He also has multiple medical issues, and I'm pretty sure he has untreated depression and other mental health problems he refuses to acknowledge that contribute to him flying off the handle at a moment's notice. That, combined with the fact that my mom will 100% never, ever leave him, because she was raised in a very specific mindset that she's never been fully able to shake...means my brother and I usually have to grit our teeth when he starts ranting/yelling/complaining during a visit, or we'd just end up ruining the day for our mom. She's done so much for us, and we just wanted her to have a good visit. So, that's what I did for most of the trip. I breathed deep when my dad openly mocked my stutter, and refused to get in a fight about it. I stopped myself from getting visibly upset when he tried to feed my cat table scraps even when I told him the cat needs a special diet. On other days I tried to watch his old shows with him, and ignored the sexist comments he'd make about the female leads, all for the sake of keeping the peace.
But, it was Mom's birthday. And she wanted to watch a movie.
And Dad said no.
He refused to give up his marathon of old westerns from 60 years ago to watch a new movie with his family on the big tv in the living room.
My mom seemed disappointed, so I suggested we watch one on my laptop in the kitchen instead. Without my dad, if he really wanted to watch his show instead. She agreed, and my brother, his wife, my mom and I filed into the kitchen, sat in less-than-comfy chairs, and watched a fantasy heist film that I'd thought they would all enjoy. And they did. My brother was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the movie (I'd already vouched for it being good, none of the others had seen it previously) His wife kept making notes for her dnd campaign. My mom found it hilarious, and liked that some actors from another show she liked were in it.
My dad stayed in the living room, watching his marathon.
Partway through the movie, he came in and asked us what we were watching. We told him, and he passed through the kitchen for something he needed, then said that we were being too loud. More context: the kitchen is right next to the living room, but my dad turns the tv up so loud in there it can get physically painful to be in the room with him. He refuses to get hearing aides, and only recently relented on subtitles. He also has a habit of screaming at anyone who tries to talk for a long time when his shows are on and they're in earshot, even if they're in a different room. We thought he couldn't hear it over his tv, and so when he said something we said sorry and that we'd try to keep it down, but we could already barely hear it through the laptop speakers. We already had subtitles turned on to make sure we didn't miss anything. When we told him that, he got even more annoyed. He asked how we'd like it if he turned the tv up so loud we couldn't understand anything, then proceeded to go into the living room and do just that, just as I was trying to figure out how much more we could lower the volume without losing our whole experience. We called in that we were already turning it down, and he finally turned his volume back down as well. We finished our movie, turning the volume down during action scenes and up during speaking scenes so we could actually hear the dialog. We enjoyed the rest of the film, and then people started getting ready for bed, and my mom went to check on my dad. She told me a few minutes later that he was hurt that we'd watched the movie without him. That he felt left out. I told her that he'd had multiple opportunities to join us, and that is was his choice not to watch with us. And honestly, the fact that he wouldn't give up the real tv for a couple hours so she could have a birthday movie was really upsetting to me.
She still seemed to feel bad that he was left out, and I'm a little worried that he might've sulked for days afterwards, leaving my mom in an even more stressful environment after I left. Am I the asshole for insisting my mom get to watch a movie on her birthday? And would I be the asshole if I told my dad off for what I consider to be extremely selfish behavior?
Also before anyone asks, no, I'm not cutting him off. It's literally impossible to do that without pretty much cutting off my mom as well, and she absolutely doesn't deserve that. And yes, I've offered up my apartment as a place she can stay if she ever needs to. Repeatedly. She hasn't taken me up on it yet.
What are these acronyms?
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