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the-froschamethyst4 · 3 months

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My wife’s the boss

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, language, married couple, mentions of children, drinking, mentions of smoking, jealous, flirting, pregnancy,

𖤐Summary: The Team likes to tease their Captain John Price on how whipped he is for his wife

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"Do you guys think Y/n wears the pants in hers and Price's marriage?" Soap asked as they all looked at Price outside the bar cigar in between his finger and he was talking on the phone to whom?

His wife.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Ghost asked.

"Well, he doesn't seem like he's arguing with her...he seems calm-oh smirking, he's smirking, he's flirting with her," Gaz says, the guys all looked at Gaz on who the hell he knows that. "What? I took some body language classes in college, leave me alone," he says, sipping from his glass.

"I wonder what he's saying to flirt with her?" Soap said.

"You guys are so fucking nosy it's embarrassing," Kate says as she came back from the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, wanna bet?"

"With you? No fucking chance," she says, sipping from her glass.

"Oh shut up, he's coming back."

"No one was talking about him," Ghost says as Price opened the door to the bar placing his phone in his pocket and paying for his tap.

"Gotta head out."

"What why?"

"The missus wants me home," he says as he thanked the bartender.

"What?" Soap groans.

"We just started having fun, Captain."

"Have fun without me, my wife needs me right now," Price says as he called for a cab and went home.

-----

Y/n sat on the nice white couch watching TV a bag of Cheetos between her thighs, a glass of apple juice on the coffee table in front of her, and a bowl of popcorn on her right side.

She was craving every single one of these.

She was also watching a sad romcom.

"I love you...always and forever-" the TV says.

"LIAR!!" She throws popcorn at the TV.

"My love?" She heard Price come in from the front door.

"Oh hi, baby," she said, looking over the couch. She rubs her big belly and looked back at her TV. "What a cheat."

"Huh?" Price sat next to her, he knows not to touch her snacks, so he got his own snacks.

"Oh this prick, he cheated on his wife and claims to love her," Y/n says.

"Haven't you watched this before?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, don't you know that already?" She just shrugs at him.

"I like this movie," she says, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

"I know, my love," he says, rubbing her belly and placing his head on her stomach, the baby was moving around.

"He's been kicking so much," she says.

"I bet...hey now...stop hurting your mama, she needs to rest, she can't if you keep kicking her in the ribs," Price says. She giggles at him.

"He doesn't listen."

"Yeah, well that just shows he's my son."

"Oh I know that, you are stubborn as a mule," she giggles.

-------

Price held Y/n stomach as she placing dirty clothes in the washing machine. Price was also just naming off some names for the little baby.

"Tony."

"Tony? No," she says.

"Liam."

"Maybe."

"Ian."

"Hm~"

"Well, what do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking...Hudson or Beau."

"I like Beau...Beau Hudson Price," John says.

"I love it," Y/n says, turning and kissing his jawline. Y/n smiled as Price had picked up her belly from behind. She lets out a soft moan as the heavy weight was lifted off from her front.

"Thank you, I need that."

"Anything, for the woman carrying my baby," he says as he then gently brought the weight back on.

She lets out a soft groan.

-------

Price was off to work putting on his favorite bucket hat and making sure he has all of his gear before heading out. He looks at the master bed and saw how peaceful Y/n looked while she was sleeping.

She just have the covers on her body, unfortunately none of her usual pajama fit her so she resorted into wearing either his clothes or half naked.

"Price," she rolls over not feeling him next to her, John stopped and rushed to her side.

"Hey, I'm here, is everything okay?" He says, cupping her face and brushing a piece of her hair from her face.

"Yes, I'm fine," she sits up and the blanket just falls off her shoulder exposing her black bra and he can barely see the matching black panties. "I was just seeing if you were gone."

"Not yet, my love," Price says, kissing her lips. "You look so sexy," he says, kissing her neck and then her chest.

"Price, you need to get going for work."

"It's okay," he says kissing her neck again. "God, if you weren't pregnant I'd take you right here and right now."

"Then why not?"

"Because I don't want to tire yourself out," he says. "I'm off, okay."

"Okay, be safe," he kissed her lips.

-------

As Price left Y/n waddled back to her bathroom, her little baby has been sitting on her bladder all day long. She's been to the bathroom around 13 different times since Price had left.

She at the this point just sits in the bathroom on the edge of the tub just waiting for it to happen.

"Come on, baby, I have things I need to get done around the house. I need to get your nursery ready, can I work?" She asked, rubbing her big belly. She slowly stood up and she didn't feel anything. "Thank you, baby," she mumbles.

Y/n had ordered somethings online without Price's acknowledge and had came in a few weeks ago, she had to hide them so she could be able to put them up.

She likes Price's help and all but sometimes, she wants to do everything for once.

She had order pictures online of cute wild animals, Price and Y/n had gone with a gender neutral themed nursery for the baby, even way before knowing the baby was a boy.

Now that they decided on the name Beau, Y/n was ordering some letters to hang up over Beau's crib.

She grabs a small step ladder and started to hang up the pictures, making sure they're even and straight. She steps off and looks at the photos.

"Perfect," she says.

As she takes her photo off the baby's changing table to take a photo and send it to Price.

My Love: Look what I did

Price: I wish you waited till I got home to help

My Love: It's okay, I got it under control, I also ordered some letters to put above his crib, you can help with that

Price: Okay, I hope you were careful

My Love: I was

"Price you want to come and start training the rookies?" Ghost called.

"I'm coming, just had to see what my love sent me," he says, placing his phone back into his pocket.

"Here we go, whipped Price with his wife."

"Yeah, I love my wife, she's my everything and she is my pride and joy, AND she's carrying my child, of course I'm going to be 'whipped' for her. You'd be too if someone was carrying your child," Price says as Soap, Ghost and Price all stood in front of the new recruits.

Price crossed his arms over his chest as he listened to Ghost yell at the recruits and Soap clapped his hands to get the recruits to move faster through the course.

Price felt his phone buzz and he looks down seeing that Y/n had sent him a new message. He opened it and saw it was her in front of her full body mirror in his old dark green Military shirt with Task Force 141's logo on the front.

Her big belly in view and her hand just under her belly. She wasn't wearing any shorts.

Price: How do you always look so good?

My Love: Because I am 8 months pregnant and I have that pregnancy glow

Price: Yeah, that's true *I do want to kiss your body*

My Love: Maybe when I'm not pregnant, I'm too sensitive

"PRICE!" Ghost yells, Price lifted his head from his phone and looked at Ghost and Soap.

--------

Y/n was back on the couch sliced apples on a plate in her hands, orange juice sitting on the coffee table, and a peanut butter jar sitting on the little table next to the couch.

"God I feel fat-"

"Don't say that, my love."

"Price, you're home too early."

"I know, I wanted to come home early and spend time with you." He drops his gear at the door and placed his bucket hat on the coat rack by the front door.

Y/n placed the plate on the coffee table. She stood up and walked to him. His hands went around her waist and kissed her lips.

"You taste like peanut butter," he chuckles and then down to her belly.

"I was eating apples and peanut butter," she says with a smile.

"Was it good?"

"Yep, the apples were juicy and so sweet," she says.

Price bent down on his knees and kissed her belly. "I can't wait for him to finally be here."

"I can't wait till he stops sitting on my bladder," she says.

"Bet that was fun?"

"I hated every minute of it but I love my baby," she says, her hands went to Price's hair.

-------

After some time, Y/n was sitting in a bubble bath, Price was sitting behind her washing her body or caressing her stomach.

"You do look so fucking gorgeous," he mumbles in her neck, gently kissing her neck. "You wanna know what Ghost and Soap told me today?"

"What?" She asked, leaning back into his touch.

"When we were training the new recruits and when you showed me the photo of you in the full body mirror, they had asked if they wanted to go for drinks afterwards. I told them no because I wanted to get back home to you and spend my time with you. They said that you must be my boss or something because of me always wanting to come home to you, and I was like damn straight," He chuckles. "My wife is the boss and that's why I love her," he kissed her neck.

"Price, you should at least hang out with them at some point."

"I always hung out with them before you got pregnant, I want to spend my time with you before Beau's born," he says, kissing her neck. "And my time will be towards you and Beau, I'll only be able to hang out with the guys every now and then."

Y/n and Price had gotten out of the bath, he wraps her body in a towel and she walks out of the bathroom to Price's closet.

"I like you better when you sleep naked," he smirks. His hands went to her waist and pulling her back against his hard chest. His hands started to unwrap her towel from her chest and letting it fall on the ground.

"As long as you join me?"

"You know, I will," he says, dropping his towel.

--------

A Month Later

Y/n was having a hard time getting out of bed without almost falling because of how weak she felt. Price stayed home ever since she said she could barely move.

Price was by her side taking one step at a time, the doctor had told them both to keep moving around to make sure the baby be ready in time and so Y/n won't be in so much pain.

"W-Wait, hang on," she stops and leans on the back of the couch trying to catch her breath. Price's hand went to her back.

"Deep breaths, my love," Price says, rubbing her back, her eyes closed like she was in more pain than before.

"My knees hurt, my legs hurt, my whole body hurts, this moving around...doesn't feel like it's working," she cries.

"Aww my love, it's okay," he says.

"Price, I just want to go to the hospital already."

"We can, I'll get everything ready you just relax on the couch okay?"

"Okay."

Price was getting the hospital bag ready and getting some fresh new clothes for the both of them, and maybe some baby clothes.

“Price.”

“Hold on, my love, where are the-oh found them.”

“Price.”

“Okay, and that’s all, yes my love?”

“My water broke.”

“What?”

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #price x y/n #price x you #price x reader #cod price #captain john price #john price #captain price #price

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mikareo · 5 months

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“ ࣭⸰ ★ WHEN SPRING COMES . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀呪術廻戦 ; megumi fushiguro x fem reader

⊹ ⠀⠀ your love for megumi can be compared to a snowflake; delicate and beautiful, stunning and unique. however, spring is coming— and eventually, all snowflakes have to melt. (1.2k)

contains; hanahaki au, rejection, angst, implied death author's note; this is 2 years old pls forgive me,, n hanahaki used to be my favorite trope IM SORRY I POST IT SM ajskl

it’s been over a decade, fifteen years really, of the never-ending winter that you’ve grown so accustomed to. the settled snow has been your comfort zone, a weighted blanket tying you down to his presence since primary school, freezing the ribbon that tied your heart to his for eternity— though only now, you realize that ribbon is a chain, shackling you to a hopeless series of unrequited feelings that could never be returned. you’ve imprisoned yourself to an idea of love that never was. love that you viewed as your personal one-of-a kind snowflake between the two of you; something special and passionate with no barriers or boundaries, which softly flurried around you for your entire lives...

...but snowflakes melt when they touch the ground.

the soft powder is nothing but water now; dirtied water on the blood-ridden pavement, speckled with pink petals of a flower that you used to love. the snowflake is dying. it’s dead. and spring has come.

“tilt your head up,” megumi murmurs with the softest, most lovely voice you’ve ever heard. “you’ve still got some on your chin.”

he’s being generous with his words. you know your skin is stained red, dripping with blood and broken leaves that refuse to be wiped away. luckily for you, he tells you that red is his favorite color— that the scarlet shade compliments your complexion and makes you look beautiful— but you know he’s lying.

the deep clots and black chunks would send anyone into a nauseous fit, he’s too kind to you.

you wish he would be horrible. that he’d hurdle insulting comments, awful remarks, and unforgivable curses— but he’d never.

— and you love him for that.

it’s too bad that he doesn’t feel the same.

he never has.

he never will.

“does that feel alright?” his washcloth is cold and damp. it’s a muddied mahogany after previously being a gorgeous forrest green. “it’s still warm, right?”

you nod, believing that one more lie won’t hurt your already dreadful situation. “i think you’ve got it all,” the reflection before you is one you recognize, a person of the past that you can’t seem to let go of no matter how many hours you spend wishing them away. “thank you, really.”

despite the normal appearance you now display, with rose-tinted cheeks and swollen eyes, there’s a garden growing in the sink. vines slithering their way down the drain as the water stream attempts to rid them from view. torn tulip petals are strewn across the bathroom floor, and in another life perhaps it would have been romantic to see a flower petal pathway leading towards the bedroom— that’s not your life though. you’ve been left with emptiness and a void of feelings with no return.

“i’m always here to hold your hair back, i hope you know that.” he smiles with kindness, a genuine goodness that can only be portrayed by him. he’s the best person you know. there’s no mystery as to why you fell for him all those years ago, and why that love has followed you through adulthood. “it’s almost pretty…y’know, in a morbid way.”

hm, funny. morbidly beautiful.

“yeah,” you reply in a snap. “maybe they can be my funeral flowers.”

you've made him angry.

“don’t even joke about that, what the hell?” megumi always gets upset when you say those type of things. his vision turns red and he’s blinded by his own sadness that he forgets that he’s the cause— he’s the calamity that uprooted your formally blissful life. he’s the one who fell in love with someone new.

winter could’ve lasted forever had he not gone to class that day.

it could raged onwards had he not met her.

you could’ve been hand-in-hand dancing beneath the moonlight on a snowy eve if she hadn’t asked for directions to the library. his kisses could’ve been peppering your face rather than hers if only you’d been more fun, more outgoing, more persuasive, more everything, then maybe he would’ve stayed.

but megumi didn’t stay...

...he left.

he left as the leaves grew on the barren trees and pollen drifted through the breeze. he said his brief goodbyes to your heart while his chased her’s in yearning. he didn’t so much as glance your way as the hanahaki roots planted themselves in your heart— only choosing to show concern after they’d already grown terminal. he disappeared from your point of view before you could even acknowledge his absence— which was and continues to be unfair.

megumi was yours and now he isn’t. it’s as simple as that. as awful and simple as that.

“we both know i’m dying.” you murmur, hands folded together as if they're the only things you have left to hang onto. you wish one of those hands could find their place in his warm palm, but the black marker ink etched onto his skin in the shapes of mini hearts and smiley faces are more than enough to drive you away. “there’s no point in denying it anymore. i can barely breathe.”

he shakes his head, backing away from you despite your obvious need for physical comfort.

you thought he knew you better than that. you thought he’d know exactly how to ease your pain, but he doesn’t. he’s very clearly not your soulmate, but for some reason your heart tells you otherwise.

“you’d be able to if you’d just get the surgery,” he says. “please.”

he's begging for something he could solve.

megumi's eyes look dark under the overhead light. “please don’t make me have to see you in a casket.”

the surgery in which the roots are removed from your heart is a tricky one. a procedure that many endure and survive, where they get to continue living their lives healthy and happy— though, are they truly living if they’re void of the love that once consumed them?

“i wouldn’t be able to live with myself, you know that.” your voice is firm, after having had this conversation many times before, “i’d know a part of me was missing. you’re too important for me to just…erase.”

if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’d rather remain in your eternal winter for the rest of your soul’s existence. yes, it’s cold and dreary, with little to no sunlight and hope of a new love or progression in your relationship with him— but it’s familiar. you find it comfortable and there’s no fear in the feelings that you’re already so accustomed to living with everyday. the thought of spring is terrifying. the season following your beloved winter that represents rebirth and new blossoming love is one that you’ll never come to know— which is completely by choice. there’s no point in limping yourself towards spring when there’s no one you’d rather love than megumi.

these hanahaki tulips won’t see the sunshine they yearn for when the grass regains its color. they’ll simply wither away with you and the lock that refuses to fall, holding your feelings for him in an eternal slumber that will never be woken.

“i love you.” you say, whilst knowing that that’s the last thing he wants to hear. “i love you so much.”

your confessions of love are a reminder of your little time left, and he hates it.

he wishes it would all stop; but it can’t and it won’t.

perhaps he should’ve given you a chance when the opportunity arose. then you may have been happy. however, he knows that there’s no forcing love.

you’ve been doomed since the moment you’d laid eyes on him.

love isn't your happiness.

“i’ve only ever loved you.”

it's your demise.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

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xiaq · 7 months

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Steddie Time Travel Fixit: Pt. 6

Ao3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7

Steve wears the Hellfire shirt.

He wears it half tucked in to a pair of tight distressed jeans with black lace-up shitkicker boots, both of which Eddie knows Steve has never worn to school before because he would have fucking remembered.

His hair is just as stupidly teased as usual, but paired with the rest of him it looks a whole lot less preppy and a whole lot more like he should have a cigarette tucked behind his ear and a leather jacket over his shoulder.

And Eddie knows that he should be focused on whatever the hell is happening with the kids and Hopper and the fact that Steve apparently has war flashbacks involving D&D characters but all that mystery falls to the wayside when the former reigning jock king is walking around the hallways like a living breathing wet dream in a shirt Eddie created.

Eddie is but a man.

Distractible.

Fallible.

Horny.

Steve catches him staring from down the hall and gives him a lazy two finger salute, grinning with the kind of ease that comes from being attractive and knowing it.

It should be infuriating.

It is not.

“Is this a dream?” Gareth says, drawing even with Eddie. “This has to be a dream, right? No way is Steve fucking Harrington wearing a Hellfire shirt.”

“I don’t know about you,” Eddie says faintly, “but if this was my dream he wouldn’t be wearing anything at all.”

“Oh, gross.”

“Look at him,” Eddie insists. Ever since that time at Jeff’s last year when the band was all high and Eddie got a little too honest, they’ve all sort of ignored the fact that Eddie is gay. They don’t ask him about girls and he doesn’t talk to them about guys. But this is…a special circumstance.

And it’s fine. Because Eddie is not the only person looking. Everyone is looking—some with sneers or confusion but most with envy or probably equal amounts of the lust that Eddie is currently trying to subdue. Even the straightest guy in the world has to admit that Steve is—

“Yeah,” Gareth says. “I mean no, still gross because it’s Harrington, but yeah I can see how—no. Never mind. I’m going to class.” Gareth pauses. “Wait. Do you think he’s going to sit with us at lunch?”

He sits with them at lunch.

Eddie more or less sleepwalks through his morning classes and leaves History before the bell so he can get to the lunchroom first and he does not save Steve a seat. He has no expectations when he enters the cafeteria. No hopes related to the company he’ll keep while consuming his soggy PB&J. He just has a jacket that ends up on the seat next to him and when Jeff tries to move it he maybe glares at him a little.

When Steve moves the jacket so he can sit down, Eddie does not glare.

“Fucking figures,” Jeff mutters.

Eddie is never going to live this down and he doesn’t even care.

“Nice shirt, big boy,” he says, because apparently Eddie’s mouth is just saying things.

Steve stills. For a moment, Eddie is reminded of the night before–of terror and gasped breathing. But then, just as quickly, he’s grinning at Eddie like some sort of sunshine creature, like joy incarnate, plucking at the tight fabric straining across his chest.

“I dunno, I don’t think I’m particularly big, it’s not my fault you gave me such a small size.”

“Well, beggars can’t be choosers,” Eddie retorts.“Everyone who signed up at the beginning of the year got one custom made,” he gestures to the guys as proof before drumming his fingers against Steve’s shoulder. “This’s one of mine and the most exercise I get is hauling amps and running from cops.”

Steve reaches over to wrap his hand around Eddie’s bicep and it’s Eddie’s turn to go still under the heat of his palm and the weight of his attention. Steve meets his eyes for a fleeting second before they flick down to his own fingers. Steve squeezes.

“You seem plenty fit to me.”

“Amps,” Eddie repeats. It’s a little breathless. It’s fine.

“Jesus christ,” Jeff mutters.

Steve’s hand is still on his arm when nearly half the basketball team approaches, detouring to stop on their way to their standard table.

He wouldn’t say that a hush falls over the cafeteria but there are certainly a lot of eyes suddenly on their table. And not much talking.

“What the fuck, Harrington,” one of them––Eddie doesn’t know, nor does he care to know, his name––says. “You ditched us for the freaks?” He looks genuinely baffled, which Eddie has to admit is fair. “Is this some kind of joke? Does Munson have something on you?”

Steve leans away from the table, hand moving from Eddie’s arm to the back of his chair, he hitches his opposite elbow on the back of his own chair. He kicks one foot up to brace on the table leg. It’s the stereotypical jock position: chest wide, staking a possessive claim, except Eddie isn’t a cheerleader.

“I don’t like what you’re implying,” Steve says.

“Dude, whatever it is,” the guy’s eyes linger on Eddie in a way that Eddie really does not like, “we can take care of it.”

Steve sighs.

It’s long and loud and purposeful.

“Listen, I feel like maybe Hagan hasn’t held up his end of our bargain, so let me make this as clear as I can and we can all be mature about it. Ah––” he interrupts himself, raising his voice a little, “No, hey. Look at me. All of you.” His tone is calm and level and patronizing in a way that Eddie knows would be infuriating if it was directed at him.

“I need you to understand,” he says slowly, making eye contact with each of them in turn, “That I’m not joking. I’m not posturing. If you touch Eddie, if you touch anyone at this table, you’re going to have a lot more to worry about than passing your driving test or making the starting lineup. There are people in the world with real problems and if you fuck with any of my new friends, you’re going join them.”

A couple scoff. Tommy, near the back, is distinctly silent. And without their usual ringleader, no one else volunteers to step forward as the aggressor.

“What happened to you, man?” One of the guys says instead.

Steve sighs again. It feels more genuine this time. “I grew up,” he says. “I recommend it.”

And then he just…waves them off, like he’s tired.

And they leave.

The group retreats to their own table in a wake of low murmurs, and everyone lets out a collective exhale.

Except for Steve, who is leaning into Eddie’s space again.

“You were weirdly quiet through that,” Steve murmurs, pushing Eddie’s hair over his shoulder so he can whisper in his ear. It’s an entitled gesture. The heat of his breath, fanned against Eddie’s neck, sends goosebumps down his arms.

“If I’m mouthy, it tends to just piss people off,” Eddie mutters back. “And I’m trying not to cause trouble for you seeing as you seem to create plenty for yourself.”

“Do what you want,” Steve says easily. “I know how to fight.”

Eddie tells his dick to calm the fuck down.

Now is not the time.

“Besides,” Steve whispers, even quieter, lips practically against Eddie’s ear, “I think I prefer you mouthy.”

Fuck.

This is flirting, right? It has to be flirting.

He makes frantic eye contact with Jeff and––yeah, judging by the expression on Jeff’s face Eddie is not making shit up. Steve Harrington is hitting on him. In the school cafeteria.

“Oh hey,” Steve says abruptly, turning to pull a Tupperware container out of his stuffed full backpack. “I made cookies last night if you guys want some.”

“Cookies?” Gareth says faintly.

“Yeah, peanut butter chocolate chip. The kids I babysit wanted some so I made a double batch to share. They’re good, I promise. And I substituted applesauce for some of the sugar and oil so they’re not as unhealthy as they could be––but don’t tell the kids that.”

He peels off the lid and Eddie is hit with the second-most heavenly smell he’s ever encountered. The first may or may not be Steve Harrington himself, who is now handing him one of the cookies. Eddie takes it wordlessly, watching as Steve stands to carry the container around to everyone else.

Gareth leans across the table so only Eddie can hear him. “How confused is your boner right now?” Gareth whispers.

Eddie suppresses a slightly hysterical whine. “Oh, are we talking about this? We don’t need to talk about this.”

“I think we’re going to have to if he keeps this shit up.”

“No,” Eddie says. “No, no. I’ll be fine. I just need to…get my head straight.”

“Good luck with that.” Gareth takes a bite of his cookie, “Oh, damn, these are good.”

Eddie eats his own cookie and tries not to moan about it.

He’s fine. Everything is fine.

••••

Steve Harrington is good at D&D.

Eddie had been worried, at first, that Steve might not take things seriously. That he’d laugh at their silly voices or make fun of the guys who wear costumes or just…make it clear that he thought they were ridiculous. Childish.

Instead, he maybe takes things too seriously––asking detailed questions about terrain and weather patterns and doing so many perception checks that Jeff is about ready to strangle him an hour in, but his overly cautious approach uncovers more than one trap Eddie had set. Steve is excellent at strategy and disconcertingly good at organizing the party when there’s something to fight. Even more disconcerting, most of his strategies appear to involve martyrdom and it’s only through Eddie fudging his combat rolls a little that Steve’s character survives the night.

He’s not perfect, of course. Steve’s math skills are abysmal and he constantly has to be reminded what his modifiers are, which Eddie does gently and without complaint, because he’d copied down Steve’s stats the night before and he doesn’t want Steve to be embarrassed. The guys will definitely never, ever, let him live it down, but he figures he’s already lost so much credibility with them at this point a little more won’t be the end of the world.

And Steve keeps smiling at him, so.

Worth it.

When Steve’s watch alarm goes off, a minute before 7pm, he makes a hasty exit for the bathroom, bag in hand, and the other guys decide he must have some sort of medication he has to take and he didn’t want to do it in front of them. Eddie doesn’t correct them, doesn’t know how he would even try to correct the assumption because he doesn’t actually understand what Steve is doing. But it does remind him that there is a Mystery afoot and Eddie really should be trying to figure out what the hell is going on instead of just…mooning over Harrington’s pretty face.

Then again, nothing is stopping him from doing both.

The guys warm to Steve by the end of the session, patting his back and calling goodbye as they exit the doors under the external halogen lights.

The night is quiet and cool and when Steve offers to drive Eddie home, Eddie can only say yes. Eddie slides into the passenger seat, tossing his backpack into the back, and decides to take the opportunity to snoop. He opens the glove compartment and pulls out the handful of cassettes inside.

“Oh,” Steve says, “wait, that’s not––”

There’s Dio and Metallica, Iron Maiden and Motorhead, and then the artists Eddie suspected all along: Madonna, A-ha, Donna Summer, ABBA, Journey, The Eagles and—oh.

Fleetwood Mac. With Landslide on the B side.

It’s shiny and new. No scuffs on the case.

“Shit,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“When did you even have time to get this?” Eddie asks, baffled. And maybe he shouldn’t assume, maybe he’s completely off-base, but Steve looks like he’s been caught doing something illegal so he thinks the assumption is apt. “You left our place at like 10pm last night and you’ve been in school all day.”

“I have a free period before lunch. The record store is a five minute drive from campus.”

“But…why?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says, with the soft resignation of someone lying. It sounds more like, “I can’t tell you,” which makes Eddie want to shake him.

Eddie considers Steve’s shadowed face: his downturned mouth and his stupidly long eyelashes. He looks tired.

Eddie exhales. “Well, we’re listening to it.”

Steve doesn’t argue.

He doesn’t say anything else at all until they get to the trailer and he’s hurrying around to open Eddie’s door for him and get his bag from the backseat like Eddie is some girl he’s dropping off after a date.

“Oh wait,” he says, ducking back to grab his own bag. “I have—hold on, it’s—there we go.”

He emerges with another tupperware container in his hands, this one smaller than the one he passed around at lunch.

“I thought Wayne might want some,” he says shyly, eyes on the cookies in his hands. “As a thank you. For yesterday.”

Eddie is going to scream.

“That’s really nice. I’m sure he’ll love them, and if he doesn’t I’ll eat them because apparently you’ve been possessed by Betty Crocker’s ghost. Or—actually I don’t know if she’s dead or not. Or if she was a real person. Anyway, the point is that—“

Steve is smiling at him. Softly. Like he’d be happy to listen to Eddie ramble as long as he wants.

Eddie clears his throat. “Wayne should be home if you want to give them to him.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll, uh, walk you in.”

So much screaming.

Steve does walk him in, hands over the cookies to a baffled-looking Wayne, and then touches Eddie’s hand—hardly a touch at all really, his first two fingers resting, briefly, on Eddie’s wrist, his thumb tucked just under the meat of Eddie’s palm, almost like he’s checking Eddie’s pulse.

“Goodnight,” he says.

Eddie doesn’t even know if he responds.

He’s still looking down at his wrist when Steve’s car engine starts and the headlights fan over the windows before everything goes dark and still outside.

“So,” Wayne says. “Is he…”

“What?” Eddie asks blankly.

“...your sweetheart?”

That’s enough to break Eddie out of whatever trance he’d been in. “My–? Jesus. No. You know who you’re talking about, right?”

“I know what I’m seeing,” Wayne mutters. “Not sure I’m happy about it.”

Eddie’s stomach immediately goes sour. They’ve never actually discussed Eddie’s romantic preferences. Wayne knew. He had to know, considering the circumstances in which Wayne became Eddie’s guardian. But they’ve never said anything out loud to each other and Eddie was hoping to continue that tradition potentially for forever.

“Wait,” Wayne says, moving forward to squeeze his shoulder, “I didn’t mean––fuck, you know I’m no good at this shit. Come sit down.”

They move to the couch.

They sit.

Wayne digs the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“I don’t care who you’re sweet on or who you bring home, you hear me? As long as they treat you right and they don’t get you into trouble. But that Harrington boy… I get the feeling he’s trouble. And with his folks being who they are, I just want you to be careful. That boy has a history and I don’t know what it is, but I’d wager it isn’t pretty.”

“I don’t know what it is either,” Eddie murmurs. “He’s not––I don’t think he’s bad trouble, though. He’s trying to protect me. Us. At school. Even though it’s put a giant target on his back. He’s quit basketball and joined Hellfire and he’s. I don’t know. I like him.” It feels like a confession.

“I wonder how his Daddy feels about all that,” Wayne murmurs. “You ever seen him come to school hurt?”

Eddie considers. “I don’t know. Why?”

Wayne just looks at him.

“You think his parents––?”

“I think I know the kind of boy his father was. I can imagine the sort of man he turned into.”

Eddie feels chilled all the sudden. He gets up from the couch to close the open window above the sink. It doesn’t help. He rests his hands, fingers splayed, on the countertop. He taps his nails on the fornica.

Abuse wouldn’t explain the kids or the panic attack or why he suddenly seems obsessed with Eddie. But it would explain some things.

“I’m not going to start avoiding him,” Eddie says.

Wayne sighs. “I didn’t expect you would. Considering.”

Eddie doesn’t ask him to elaborate.

He holds up the container of cookies Wayne had abandoned on the counter, then carries them over to the couch when he nods.

Wayne selects the largest one from the top. “Did he actually play your dragons game?”

Eddie nearly chokes on a laugh, helping himself to a cookie as well. “He did. Wasn’t half bad, either.”

Wayne takes a bite. His eyebrows go up. “Shit, did he make these?”

“He did,” Eddie says.

“Well. I suppose we can keep him around.”

Pt. 7

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve/eddie #eddie/steve #myfic #time travel fix it #stranger things fic

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yuellii · 8 months

Text

baby, we’re the new romantics !

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 some born-rich, noisy man falls for a completely normal ( maybe struggling ) woman

feat. childe, referred to as ajax

wc. 2.7k

note. gn reader, modern au, references a scene from I Love Yoo, this is a little birthday fic for one of my very best friends in the whole wide world : @vivinens !!

To put it bluntly, it sucked working at McDonald’s.

Other than the fast-paced environment and the tough remarks from rude customers, what arguably sucked the most was that he worked in the building just across the street. Literally just a few steps and you’d be at risk of seeing him.

It wasn’t that you hated Ajax ( okay, maybe you did a little ); he was a fun way to wind down in-between classes sometimes at university because of his loud personality. And, he was attractive to stand next to, you’ll give him that in addition to being a very understanding friend. But seeing him in the workplace is quite possibly the last thing you could ever want to ask for.

What made matters even worse was during your desperate job search last month, when you got a recruitment offer at the place he worked at. You thought it’d be some small thing like where generic college students worked, not some big multi-million firm in this massive building with workers walking around in suits and pencil skirts galore. And of course, when you met with the mean recruiting lady named Rosalyne for your interview, it was impossible not to spot Ajax at the corner of your eyes with a goofy smile on his face.

And when Ms. Rosalyne went back to scold him after your interview, it was more than obvious you were only here because he pushed your application.

How embarrassing.

“You can try again!” he said to you in good spirits in the university courtyard one week after. The two of you were sitting together as the sun was setting on campus, having both finished all your classes for the day. “They’re opening another clerical position soon since our current one is leaving, apply then!” And to you, he was acting all completely normal in his normal young-adult way, meanwhile you were trying to erase the image of him in a suit from your head.

You sighed, “I don’t think the high-class life of business is for me yet, Ajax.”

The roll of your eyes caused him to visibly deflate. Just how obsessed was he with the idea of you getting hired? “But I want you to work with you so baddd…!” he groaned, dramatically shoving his hands onto his face.Then he leaned back forward, slumping until his forehead came down to rest on your shoulder. Such an attention-grabbing act of depression—you almost came to entertain the idea, too.

“I don’t even have office clothes,” you scoffed, bumping him off your shoulder.

He yelped from the force of your push for a moment before he grabbed your arm, pulling it so harshly with such a force that had you clashing right onto his chest ( Yeah, friends, or something like that ). And even as you began to punch on his chest in protest, he just hugged you tight and whined, “I can buy you some! You’ll fit right in—and I get to see you every day at school and at work!”

Seeing him every day sounded like hell, you were so sure this man was insane.

“You are not buying me office clothes!” you denied, still trying to push yourself away.

“I can totally afford it, though!” he pouted. After he relaxed his grip around your body, you still found it too tough to escape his weird embrace. That’s your karma for being friends with the guy who goes to the gym in-between classes, you suppose. And after more struggling to set yourself free, you eventually gave up as the sunset reduced to silence.

That was when he squeezed you tight once more for a last makeshift hug, then planted an ambiguously-friendly kiss on your cheek as he said, “Let’s go get dinner now? I’ll drive.”

“Yeah, sure. Can we get chicken nuggets?”

He lifted both of your bodies up to your feet, watching as you collected your things off the seat before he led you by the hand to his car. “Pff, you always want nuggets,” he teased. “But yeah, I’m down—there’s a McDonald’s right next to my work, let’s go there while I try to convince you to apply at my job!”

And now you work at said McDonald’s.

You didn’t tell him, of course. Only that you “finally got a job,” so that he could finally stop trying to get you hired at his stuffy building space.

It was pretty busy in the morning when people in office attire would come in for a quick, cheap coffee. Lunch and dinner time was also busy as expected—it was one of the things that made you happy to be a cashier and not one of the cooks or drive-through people.

And the best part about this was that you never saw the uptight Ms. Recruiter Rosalyne here, nor Ajax himself. You knew for a fact that Ajax only went to McDonald’s when it was with you, as he preferred other fast foods, so even if his work was just right there, you really didn’t have to worry about accidentally seeing him. If you did… Well, that would probably be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?

It was one o’clock in the afternoon, lunch rush.

People were rude, your coworkers were irritable, customers were in a rush—horrible, really, but also a normal day for you. Just smile and put on that customer service voice and it will soon be over. Plus, you got free chicken nuggets for your own lunch break before this.

It was not until you felt your phone vibrate in the pocket of your jeans. Well. It was not that common to get a text like that. Your family should know you’re at work; your friends, too. Just one peak—only one, just while the customer in front of you is still holding up the line while he decides what to order. Propping your phone up behind the register, you open it to check your lockscreen.

orange fuckwad: heyyy you want some mcds nuggets?!?!? ;)

Holy shit. Absolutely not.

“Can I order the uhhh…” Oh good lord you have to turn off your phone now. “Can I order the uhhh McLobster?”

“Sorry sir, the McLobster was discontinued five years ago.” You were about to blow your brains out.

“No I swear I just ordered it last week?”

Your eyes kept shifting to the door. And there, finally, in all his glory making your heart absolutely drop in fear, was Ajax coming through the door. And for you, too—to buy you a box of chicken nuggets. In any other case, you’d find it endearing ( and it still was! ) but in this instance you really wanted to die right now.

The customer suddenly raised an eyebrow at you when you shifted your body to the side, trying to use his body as a shield from the eyes of your friend. There was a second cashier next to you—hopefully Ajax will line up on their line instead of yours. And hopefully, you could use this crusty McDonald’s hat to hide your face.

“Hey!” your coworker suddenly called out to you. You looked towards their empty cashier line with a glimmer of hope for good news. “I’m going on my lunch!” Your face dropped. “I’ll see you in 30, yeah?”

No! Not yeah! But you couldn’t do anything but plead with your facial expression as they left to the backroom, leaving Ajax with no choice but to join your line. If you could blow up this whole building right now, God, you would.

Five customers until him, four customers until him, three, two, one—

“Woah!” The surprise on his face felt insulting. Actually, you still used the hat to hide your face as best as you could. It was failing at hiding your identity from him as expected, but at least it helped you obscure the view of his… physique. Him, with his… um, his black slacks and white collared shirt that was just a little too tight on him, and his grey blazer that was thrown over his shoulder. One button at the top unfastened, almost as if he loosened it just to breathe during his lunch break.

And his hair, if you didn’t want to meet his eyes then you were honestly staring there. Whose hair was usually messy and tousled, now slicked perfectly for once with gel, all in a proper yet still very Ajax-way. The sides were in place, meanwhile strands over his eyes and at the top of his hair remained loose in that messy way that still characterized him. God, you might just die from embarrassment and awkwardness right now.

“This is where you work?” he asked, incredulously.

“Good afternoon, sir. What can I get for you today?” you smiled. Please, please just go with it.

He looked surprised at your voice, especially since it was so fabricated and one he had not heard before. You just hoped he wouldn’t be a dumb prick to you today, just this once. “Oh, um…” Please, please. “One ten-piece chicken nugget, please.” Thank God.

“Would you like a drink with that?”

“Yes, one large soda, if that’s okay?”

“Will that be all?”

“Uh.” He looked confused. You just stared at him. “Yeah… Yeah, I think so.”

Then he swiped his card, you directed him to the side, and he left the line. With a lingering gaze, of course. He looked like a lost ( and maybe even a little hurt ) puppy after his order, and as much as this made you feel sad for him, you were just glad to get through with him as a customer without any complications. He’ll definitely be bothering you after this, anyways.

He pretty much watched you the entire time he waited for his food, eyeing you with a look of concern that did not belong on his usual expression. But you ignored him for your own betterment—you’d really just rather get through this rush hour of customers. And when his order number was finally called, he held the small bag with nuggets and his large soda with confusion. Oh, right. That food was probably bought for you.

You sent him a look and a head tilt that notioned ‘Just eat it’, and surprisingly, he got it. Ajax, with his pristine proper suit and blazer over his shoulder, sat down at a dirty barstool and ate his ten-piece chicken nuggets. He was still watching you, though; he glanced at you every few seconds while he was chewing. Minutes that felt so long passed, and you just hoped his lunch break would end soon so he could get back to his building.

“Hello again!” You almost jumped in place when you found him in front of you again, having finished his nuggets.

“Ajax,” you grumbled, trying to speak quietly. There was another customer coming to line up behind him. “I can’t talk during my shift.”

“Oh!” He looked at you in innocent surprise for a second, definitely not as depressed as earlier. “No, I was just gonna order.”

You wanted to die. “Didn’t you already…” Clearing your throat, you remembered there was another customer lined up behind him. Thank heavens the lunch rush was over already. Time to put on the customer service voice for him again. “What can I get for you?”

“A box of ten-piece chicken nuggets, please!” he smiled. “And a large soda!”

If you didn’t feel like killing him before, well you certainly did now. And guess what, he ate this order, too! Was he doing this out of spite now? Ordering nuggets and then eating them right in front of you? Because honestly, it was making you less hungry and more confused, if anything. This was definitely not what you expected—but then again, you fully anticipated he’d hold up the line just to talk to you. But no, suddenly he was a McDonald’s nugget fan?

The moment you get out of here, you’re going to twist his ear. Time passes again where you purposely avoid his gaze. So, so much time. Either his lunch break was just incredibly long, or time was just going so slow because he was here. You bet it was the latter.

And then, once again, you find him at the front of your line.

“Hello!” he smiled. He looks happy just to see you. “Can I get a ten-piece box of chicken nuggets?”

“And a large soda with that?” you asked, almost with a sigh.

He looks uneasy, standing to the tips of his toes for a moment. “No,” he drags out with hesitance. “Side of large fries, actually.”

Ooo, how different! It’s the most entertainment you could wish for in a day. And when you shoo him to the side this time, he has the biggest smile on his face. How unusual—in this situation, at least. Then when his order comes, he actually turns to leave this time. He walked to the glass doors with an innocent grin and a large McDonald’s bag in his hand, happily waving to you goodbye. Finally.

“You never told me you work at the McDonald’s right by me!”

He was there waiting for you when you walked out of your shift, packed up, ready to go home, and definitely smelling like grease. “Well aren��t you out early…” you sighed at him. “It’s only three in the afternoon.”

“I asked if I could leave so I could come see you sooner,” he frowned. Endearing, once again. And your heart may have skipped just a bit when he lifted up the last brown bag he bought. “I saved these for you. They’re not warm anymore but there’s fries, a soda, and fifteen nuggets… I, uh, couldn’t finish the second order.”

You nearly laughed out. “Why in the world did you order so much anyways?”

“So I could see you again,” he pouted.

He was still wearing his office attire, top button unfastened once again and blazer under his arm once you took the fast food bad again. You might’ve just had nuggets during your lunch break, and this food may be cold and soggy by now, but the thought of him buying it for you made it the best meal in the world. And, it was also the fact he left his own shift early just to see you. He could be nice at times; so nice, it almost comforted the fact he made you want to die earlier.

“You embarrassed me,” you tiredly sighed. The both of you were walking together to his car—how he knew you were dropped off here was beyond you.

“Sorry!” he sheepishly smiled. “I really didn’t think I’d see you there…” Which was understandable, sure, but did he really have to order that many McNuggets just to see you at the cashier stand? “But now that I know you work right next to me…”

“Ajax, no.”

“Oh come on!” He pouted with a considerably loud whine while the both of you crossed the street to his building. You figured he was likely parked behind it, wherever the employee parking was. It still felt a little weird to be in your McDonald’s uniform walking next to a big business building. “I get to see you every lunch break—doesn’t that sound so fun?”

“No not really.”

He groaned even louder again, slumping his shoulders as if he was not dressed like he was going to an office party right now. But then, in some sort of comforting silence, he aligned his arm over your shoulders. It was cute, honestly—how he would still do this despite the fact you smelled like pure grease right now ( and the fact you were trying to ignore the feeling of his arm muscles that were practically bursting through his sleeves ).

He eyed you a few times during this silent walk, watching as you stuffed your face with nuggets and fries. Holy God this tasted so good for some reason…?! You totally deserved this after your shift of rude customers and embarrassing moments—then your good friend Ajax brings you nuggets and fries right after. How romantic.

And speaking of your ‘friend’, he pulled you closer against him, arm practically swallowing your entire being over your shoulders. Not that you were complaining, though; you found his weird obsession with being near you all the time just a little bit cute. And besides, he drove you places, and he bought you chicken nuggets.

Who could not love a man that buys you chicken nuggets?

#childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x you #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x gender neutral reader #childe x gender neutral reader

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bluecollarmcandtf · 6 months

Text

Influencer Island

Isn't this generation the worst! My family's resort used to be a peaceful retreat, but now it's crawling with whiney influencers who spend their time staring at their phones and ignoring our service. All of them are rude and obnoxious to the staff, but I have a new plan for every entitled brat I find.

"Hey you!" a snide call comes my direction.

He's lean, muscular, and emerging from the tropical shrubbery of the hotel's expansive gardens. The guy is clearly a fitness YouTuber, and he's just returned from a sweaty jog. His body seems to be the only thing on his mind, because he flaunts it in front of me without even glancing in my direction.

"Grab me a towel," he insists and brushes past, "This place is humid as hell."

A bored look sits on his face as he begins routinely stretching the toned legs inside those tiny shorts. The guy actually scoffs and looks offended when he realizes I haven't raced off to fetch his towel. It's the first time he's actually looking in my direction, and I can practically feel the sense of entitlement dripping off of him.

"Dude, I want a towel. The air on your island is wet and gross," he slowly repeats, like I must be an idiot who can't understand.

"Shut up about the humidity, Carlos!" my anger gets the best of me, but I finally put my diabolical plan in place.

"Who the hell is Carlos?"

For the first time, the influencer's smug face flashes to one of confusion. He doesn't believe someone like me would talk to him like this, let alone call him the wrong name.

"Carlos is the new gardner," I explain in a spiteful voice, "He's hard-working, he's humble, and he isn't bothered by the wet muggy air one bit!"

The athletic social media star looks completely taken aback now. He's retreated from my barrage of words, but there's no escaping the transformation he's already undergoing.

His revealing shorts rapidly unfold into a more coarse material that extends over his shoulders, forming a baggy pair of working overalls. Our hotel staff polo pops up beneath the straps of his workwear and leather gloves appear on his hands.

"How...?" he quietly gasps, "What am I wearing?"

"Carlos isn't very smart, but he makes up for it by shutting up and working hard. Don't you, Carlos?" I continue, "You spend all day in this disgustingly humid air, trimming bushes, pulling weeds, and manicuring the shit out of this garden. It's the only thing you're really good for. Isn't that right, Carlos?"

"Yeah," the former jock answers numbly.

A name tag appears over his chest, sealing his identity as Carlos the gardner. His face ages and takes on the character of a Hispanic local. His once youthfully lean body expands outward, filling his new uniform with a layer of fatherly pudge. This guy looks like he's spent his entire life working on this island. I know he'll spend the rest of it here too.

"Get back to work, Carlos, and don't let me catch you taking a break again," I say.

"Yes, Señor," he answers humbly, turning to a wheelbarrow full of mulch right beside him.

I watch sweat glisten on Carlos' forehead as he dumps the wood chips and rakes them around the plants. I note the damp air already permeating his heavy uniform before leaving and stepping inside the hotel lobby.

The interior of my family's hotel is quite grand and luxurious, but it's Mediterranean architecture creates an atmosphere of culture and class. Unfortunately, not many of my younger guests have the same culture and class. Approaching the front desk, I find a handsome young man in a vehement debate with the concierge. Apparently, his room was not up to his standards.

"Do you know who I am?" he asks tersely.

"I have 300k followers on TickTock! Everyone sees my travel vlog, so don't piss me off," he demands loudly.

My employee working the front desk looks overwhelmed and exhausted. Guests should never verbally assault my staff. This guy needs to learn how to behave at my hotel.

"So you're the famous influencer!" I jump to the defense before voices are raised any further, "We of course prepared a premier experience for you and your followers."

The entitled TickTocker's eyes roll but he seems relieved that somebody is finally treating him as he believes he deserves. I send a comforting wink to the concierge before gracefully escorting the rude guest away from the front.

"About time," he clicks his tongue, "That bellboy could barely speak English. You'd think a supposed luxury resort would be a bit more accommodating."

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, sir. How may we be of service to you?"

"Well to start, my room faces the forest. I booked one with a view of the ocean," he explains, missing my blatant sarcasm.

I'm done playing around.

"Come on, Jose. You don't care about looking out windows," I correct him, "Just cleaning them."

The young man stares back at me like he's just been insulted. He can't believe I have the audacity to call him by the wrong name.

"I'm not Jose," he snaps.

"Sure you are," I go on, "You're the Jose I've always known. The Jose that keeps his head down and gets his work done. The Jose that is quiet and respectful with the guests."

"That's not me," he growls, frustratedly denying it.

"I know there's a bit of a language barrier, Jose, but come on. Just look at yourself!"

The influencer narrows his eyes before nervously glancing down. As he does, his crisp white shirt fades to an old blue color. The buttons latch themselves all the way up to the base of his neck as the shirt tail stitches itself seamlessly with his pants of a now identically worn material.

"What I have on!" he gasps with an awkward inflection.

"Jose, it's your uniform," I laugh, "You're the hotel janitor! You wear coveralls, buddy."

"Estoy el janitor?" he questions with a heavy new accent, but his mind is already accepting the new role.

His eyes glazed over as he pulls out a pair of rubber gloves from his back pocket. He slips them on like it's second nature, and a uniform cap appears on his head of dark hair. The final touch of a name tag reading 'Jose' slides over the breast of his coveralls, cementing the reality of his new life.

"Jose," I say slowly.

"Sí, jefe?" he seems to snap out of an idle daze.

"You know your not supposed to loiter in the lobby unless you are cleaning."

"Lo siento, señor."

Jose fishes a rag and spray bottle out of his pocket to act busy wiping down different surfaces in the lobby. He keeps casting nervous glances in my direction as I supervise his work.

"Jose."

"Sí," he returns to my side like an eager puppy.

"The staff bathroom has a clog in it. Take care of that and the rest of the staff area. You can clean the lobby tonight when guests aren't here," I instruct.

"Por supuesto, jefe," he nods and shuffles through a staff-only door to the rear of the building.

Thank God I took that pretentious jerk down a peg. Thanks to me, the hotel has one less raving social media nut and one more quietly dedicated janitor. He'll certainly help clean up after all the other careless youths who make a mess everywhere they go.

Patting myself on the back for a job well done, I leave the lobby and head deeper into the building and towards the kitchens.

"Excuse me?" a wandering voice calls from down a hall.

An exasperated sigh blows out of my nostrils. Am I really about to deal with another entitled young man again?

"You shouldn't be down here, sir," I explain impatiently, "This is a staff-only area."

"Oh, I know," he throws his hands up in mock surrender, "My family owns a hotel back home, so I just like to check out the behind-the-scenes when I travel different places."

"Well, then you know hotel staff could use less distractions in their work space," I retort.

The young man doesn't seem to understand my frustration. He throws his hands in his pockets and slumps his shoulders.

"I just like to see how the employers of hotels treat their employees," he defends himself, "Especially in a place like this."

"What do you mean a place like this?"

"You know," he continues, "Foreign countries don't have all the protections for the working class that America has. I wouldn't be surprised if this hotel took advantage of the natives."

"You think I take advantage of the people from this island?" I shake my head in utter disbelief.

"Well, maybe," he goes on, "I write a blog about-"

"Let me stop you there," I cut him off, "You know I don't take advantage of the locals because you are one, Pedro."

"I'm not Pedro. Does he work here?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Yup. Pedro started working down here about four years ago. He was so excited to get a decently paying job," I explain, "He reminds me of yourself, only he keeps his hair neat and trim, the way a good employee should."

The young man seems interested in my story but doesn't seem to realize it's about him. His oversized Hawaiian shirt slowly tightens into a fitted jumpsuit while thin gloves glide over his hands. Meanwhile, his wildly long hair shrinks into a head of neatly cropped black curls.

"Pedro doesn't leave the basement too often, but he doesn't mind because he is so excited to finally have a consistent source of income. His bedroom is right around that corner, actually."

"Really," the guy asks dreamily, completely unaware of the uniform cap that's dropped over his new haircut.

"You're Pedro."

"I'm Pedro," he agrees without resistance, and a name tag materializes over his yellow coveralls, finalizing his transformation.

"Pedro," I say, "I know it's nice to catch up, buddy, but don't you have a lot of work to do?"

Pedro glances down the hall towards the laundry room. "Your right, sir," he responds with a new accent.

"A lot of guests arrived today, and I heard quite a few of them put in requests for clothes to be laundered and pressed."

"I'm on it, sir," he assures me.

My newest employee races to find an empty laundry hamper and starts rolling it down the hallway. The idiot is rolling the laundry bin towards the guest elevators in the front of the building.

"Come on, Pedro!" I call.

"Yeah, sir?"

"Son, use the service elevator in the back," I remind him, "The front ones are for guests. You know that."

"Right! Sorry, sir," he shakes his head and turns around, lugging the hamper in the opposite direction.

Pedro climbs on the old elevator and hits the button. Rusted machinery groans to life, pulling the laundry boy and his hamper slowly up to the top floor.

I take a seat and rest in the service corridor. It's been a long day of transforming insufferable influencers into good employees. Their absence will no doubt improve the atmosphere of my hotel greatly, but I may need to consider expanding the business if I keep taking on so many new workers...

#gay hypnosis #hypno story #gay mind control #male transformation #servant #hypnotized #gay ai art #mind control

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coolprettyleo · 2 months

Text

Don't Forget, Don't Forget About Me - Gabe Perreault ☆

wc: 1.9k

tw: angst. alcohol. kissing? cussing. partying. almost sa. slut shaming. weird frat guy.

part 2 of superman !!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

gabe hadn’t called. he hadn’t texted. it was now sunday night; the night before he was supposed to land back in boston and lottie wondered if he had even thought of her.

her little overthinking insecure mind couldn’t help but hope he wouldn’t go off and save some other girl. a girl who desperately needed saving just like the naive little freshmen lottie was a couple of months prior.

*flashback*

“c’mon!! we’re in college now, you have to actually leave your dorm if you want to make friends char” her best friend from home told her while they were face timing.

i mean its not that lottie liked to stay home. she kinda felt burnt out. her whole life she didn’t have strict authority figures who told her she couldn’t go out. so by the time she was eighteen years old in a new city she didn’t feel the hunger of freeness, every other eighteen year old was feeling.

she grew up with her grandmother in california who had already done her part in raising her children. she was raising lottie out of the kindness of her heart. or mainly due to the fact lottie would be in the foster care system since both her parents were in jail.

“i dont know what if something goes wrong” she says, beginning to look like she can be convinced seeing how cute dylan looks.

it might be fun to dress up and take cute pics…

“it’s college! you finally have the opportunity to be somewhere where no one knows you. you can talk freaking australian and stupid bitches would believe you. your just like every other bitch tonight!”

lottie couldn’t help but smile at her friends drunkness desperately regretting the fact she didn’t go to umich with the blonde friend.

“honestly thats so real and tru. when the hell did u start giving such good advice”

“shutup and let me help you pick a fit” dylan excitedly squeals.

—

lottie walked into a frat party alongside her roommate and some girls they had just met. the music was typical frat music but she was honestly feeling it.

maybe because she missed going out or maybe because her and her friends had just pregamed a bottle of titos before leaving the dorm.

the thing about lottie is that she doesn’t usually drink so when she does, she drinks to have a good time.

“oh my gosh!! charlotte pls let’s go dance. plsss” my roommate Mary slurred whining.

lottie was obviously not going to turn that invitation down, so off she went. unbeknownst to her she had already caught the attention of several guys with the worse intentions possible.

all lottie can remember of that part of the night is that she was dancing with mary having the time of her life and then the next thing she knew, mary was making out with some guy.

okay mary!! slay!

she didn’t want to awkwardly third wheel that, so she quickly made her way out the dance floor. into the kitchen where there were several tall guys standing around with red cups.

“hey charlotte right? we have english together” a shorter boy walked up to her. lottie didn't think he was with the taller boys.

ive never seen this man in my life.

but of course she was naive. and in her little naive mind she didn’t want to make this random guy feel bad so she went along with it. as if they were old friends. they weren’t.

“oh yeah! hi!” she told the black haired boy standing way too close for her comfort.

unbeknownst to lottie he didn’t actually have a class with her and he was just another dumb freshman hoping to get into a frat, trying to prove he was somebody to a bunch of nobodies. in all the wrong ways too. he had just been ordered to slip something into her drink.

why he chose lottie, she would never know.

“here let me get you some water, you don’t look too well”

“thanks!! thats so nice! I was just dancing with my roommate but I don’t know where she went, I think she went off with some guy which is totally fine! im not judging or anything, like good for her” lottie drunkly rambled. one thing about lottie is that she becomes a yapper with just one sip of alcohol.

“ya it can get pretty tiring out there” he said looking around and at her nervously handing her some ‘water’. or so she thought.

as lottie was about to pour the liquid down her throat a tall dark haired boy came and slapped the cup out of her hand. spilling it all over the floor and on her top.

what the hell man

“im so sorry but don’t drink that. here” he said handing her a bottled water desperately searching for a towel to give her to wipe off whatever the hell that liquid was which smelled like the farthest thing from water.

“cmon man i was already talking to her and it was just water” the frat boy said grabbing lottie harshly.

“get the fuck out of here ass hat. how stupid can you be”

"that wasn't water!"

the taller boy and i yelled at the same time while the frat boy shoved him.

“don’t fucking touch me or her” he said pushing him back. harder.

"she's pretty easy to touch man, I mean look at her" the frat guy drunkly said.

the tall dark haired boys friends quickly came and got between them before something bigger started.

“cmon gabe it’s not worth it” a freckled boy said to him while shooting a dangerous glare to the stupid frat guy.

lottie just stood off leaned against the counter trying to figure out who’s the hell are these people? and what the hell was going on? and did that asshole just slut shame her? what the hell did he even mean by that? .

“let’s go find your friends” he said taking my arm much gentler and guiding me through the party. trying to see if I recognized anyone.

“thank you for that, honestly. i didn’t think anyone could ever be capable of doing something like that” I told the boy who had gentler eyes now as we stepped outside. as lottie began to sober up, it hit her what could of happened if this mysterious boy never came to save the day.

im so dumb.

lottie couldnt help but think.

“well now you know for next time right” he said with a light smile as he texted on his phone.

whose he texting?

“who we texting!” lottie said jokingly. trying to lighten up the mood.

“im trying to call us an uber, your a freshman right?” he said with a chuckle, feeling a flip in his stomach as he seen her smile.

thats pretty.

“yeah, are you?”

“yeah, my names gabe by the way” he said realizing he never got her name or even told her his.

“charlotte. but i go by lottie” she said smiling at him, noticing gabe was honestly cute.

“the uber is fifteen minutes away” he said looking down at her, into her big brown eyes.

“thank you. really” she said starring into each others eyes, as if they’ve spent all eighteen years of their lives searching for one another.

feeling her heart beat a million times an hour; something lottie has never felt before. so she couldn’t figure out what it meant. heart attack? maybe?

lord save me.

*flashback over*

lottie felt like an idiot. she knew gabe was back from his trip seeing as his location was in his dorm. he usually would have asked her to go over by now or he would of came here, but seeing as he probably believed lottie didn't love him; he was going to be stubborn and not answer her.

screw it I cant take it anymore

lottie rolled her ass out of bed and put on her uggs as she marched down the hill to his dorm with a mission on her mind.

she had spent the weekend wallowing in self pity and she couldn't take it anymore. this had been the longest they had gone without speaking to one another since they got together and lottie realized she did not like it. not one bit.

—

"gabe just call her back, if she's calling you so much then she obviously does care about you" will snapped finally tired of seeing his roommate in such a terrible mood; all weekend.

"thats the problem! i want her to love me not just care for me. you guys know lottie; she cares for the homeless man down the street that she's never even met before!" gabe gestures with his arms.

"dont be complicated gabe" ryan chimes in, knowing all too well how their friend and teammate is.

as gabe opens his mouth to talk further he is cut off by a loud knock on the door.

ryan quickly trying to escape gabes self pity party practically runs to open the door while will and gabe stay sitting back on the couch.

"lottie! come in!" ryan says loudly looking at will with eyes that speak 'lets get outta here'. will practically ran out with ryan. not wanting to deal with depressed gabe any longer, not before waving at lottie on his way out though.

gabe rolled his eyes at their antics before getting up and walking to his room as lottie began to shut the front door.

"gabe wait! please hear me out"

"there's nothing to hear out lottie. its okay to not love someone back, you dont have to explain anything" he said looking anywhere and everywhere but her.

lottie took a good look at him seeing as he looked like his heart was breaking into a million pieces; lottie wanting so desperatly to put it back together one by one, however long it took. she loved him.

"you cant honestly believe that I dont love you gabe" lottie said softly, walking closer to him.

"look at me gabe" she whispered, while softly turning his head down to look at her. his deep green eyes has her wanting to scream from the rooftops.

"I love you" she said as she shook with nothing but raw emotion and pure love.

gabe couldn't help but scoop her up into his arms and kiss his girl like there was no tomorrow. smiling into the kiss because he hated what he had felt all weekend long.

lottie pulled away from the kiss as she wasn't finished. she planned the speech the whole way here, she wanted to tell him. because when you know you know and she knew.

"I love you gabriel perreault. and im sorry for not telling you sooner. i just assumed you knew and that was wrong of me and so sorry. since the very first day I've loved you. since you saved me from my own stupidity, I loved you. since you've put up through every bad habit and fit I've had, I've loved you-"

"lottie, i know. you dont have to say it" gabe said cutting her off knowing well lottie isn't one to scream her love from the rooftops. with his hands on her lower back. making her stomach do cartwheels.

god I love him. I want him.

"I want to though" lottie said, looking into his eyes. eyes that lottie thought were heart shaped starring deeply into her soul. leaning on her tiptoes to kiss his soft sweet lips again.

the boy who was her boyfriend. the boy she loved. the boy who knew she loved him. her version of superman. at least its the same thing too lottie.

the end!!

I dont know if I want to make this into an au or leave it as it is. we'll see!

#gabe perreault #gabe perreault x reader #bc hockey #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey fic #will smith hockey #ryan leonard #hockey imagine

93 notes · View notes

bellysoupset · 13 days

Note

i’d actually requested this a while ago, and iirc it didn’t really fit with the timeline back then? when luke and vince weren’t talking.

i’d asked for a fic where lucas and vin watch leo take care of jon during a vertigo episode. like maybe they’re at jon and leo’s place and leo isn’t back from work yet when jonah gets hit with an episode. and both of them are lowkey freaking out. and leo comes in and takes over effortlessly and manages to calm jonah down so much better than either of them did

but if you’d not written this for some other reason then please feel free to ignore it! 🍄

This is probably my favorite fic so far. Maybe. Possibly. It's also long.

------------------------

“Hey, Monacelli,” Vince raised his head and saw Max tapping lightly on the half open door of his classroom. It was halfway through the day and Vince’s classes were already over. From what he had glanced at the overall teachers’ schedule, Daniels still had two more classes to teach, but Vince could go home… But that just seemed a little depressive.

His parents were busy and his sisters were in class, so going home just meant being alone and he’d much rather stay in school and finish going over the kids’ papers.

“Yeah?” Vince lowered his red pen and the blonde man pointed over his shoulder, to the sunny patio behind him.

“Your boyfriend’s here,” Max said in a smug tone and Vince’s blood immediately boiled over.

He could count in one hand the amount of transphobic shit he had witnessed with Wendy, but Vince wasn’t stupid. He was aware Doveport was fairly conservative and had been bracing for a bigoted comment for a while now.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, you asshole, I have a girlfriend,” he said sharply, dropping the pen immediately and Max jumped back, startled.

“Uhm, okay, sorry for assuming? But there’s some guy in the parking lot waiting for you,” he shrugged, seeming offended, “geez,” the blonde turned around with an exasperated eye roll and power walked away, leaving a befuddled Vince behind.

Vin grimaced, realizing he had assumed the worst for absolutely no reason and making a mental note to apologize to the other teacher, before the reality of some dude caught up with him. Weird, but a good surprise, Vince thought, packing up his bag and locking up his classroom.

He fully expected to find Luke in the parking lot and was not wrong, the guy was sitting on the hood of his green jeep, sunglasses on and chuckling about something. What Vince did not expect was to see Jon standing right next to him, also wearing sunglasses and a jacket, smiling.

Hell must have frozen over, Vince thought with a smirk, watching the two laugh. It wasn’t rare to see Jonah and Lucas laughing together, even if the two wanted everyone to think they hated each other, but today they looked particularly relaxed.

“What is going on…?” Vince asked, opening a huge smile of his own when Luke promptly jumped from the hood of the car in order to tackle him into a hug. He squeezed the guy back, half hugging Luke with one arm as they pulled apart, in order to look at Jonah, “Jon?”

“Hi,” Jonah gave him a small wave, “so uhm- Wendy showed me your birthday gift to her and uh- I wanted - I was wondering-”

It was so weird to watch Jon fumble with his words. Vince frowned, confused, then looked at Luke for an explanation. His best friend was blushing on Jon’s behalf, with a smile so gigantic Vince could see his molars.

“Oh my god, Jonah!” He exclaimed after a minute, “he wants to buy Leo a ring.”

It took Vince a second, but then he let go of Lucas, all but yelling “YOU’RE GONNA PROPOSE TO LEO!?” and rushing to pull Jon into a hug.

The other man stiffened, but he had no chance to fight Vince off, nor did he even want to and he melted into the hug for a minute, muffling a chuckle and mumbling a little sheepish “yeah… And I wanted your jewelry recommendation. I really liked Wendy’s birthday present and I think Leo would have my head if I got him a Cartier.”

“And he wants our help to pick,” Lucas completed the unspoken truth and Jonah glared at him, turning a shade darker with a blush.

“Shut up-”

“Yeah! YEah, of course, of course!” Vince interrupted the bickering, all but bouncing on his feet, his voice breaking and going up a note, “Leo’s going to explode with happiness-”

It took Vin a moment to calm down and then yet another moment as they figured out the logistics of it all. Vince still had his motorcycle, so they decided he should just stick with it and drive ahead of them, Luke and Jon following in the jeep.

The local jewelry shop where Vince had bought Wendy’s birthday was also owned by Italians. The old owner was a friend of Vin’s mom and he lit up as the three men walked into his store.

“Back for more so soon, Vicenzo?” he asked in a thick italian accent, “I told you, there’s no coming back from the first diamond you get her.”

“No,” Vince shook his head, planting his hands on Jonah’s shoulders and shaking him like a rattle toy, “today I’m here just as a helper. My friend wants to buy his man a ring.”

“Hi, I’m Jonah,” Jonah tried to shrug Vince off, offering his hand to the owner.

“Niccolo Fanucci, it’s a pleasure.”

Luke was already inspecting the rings on display, crouching down to get a better look at them, “Leo wouldn’t want anything too flashy,” he said, tunnel vision fully on, “so what are you thinking? Yellow, silver? Tungsten?”

Jonah wrinkled his nose, “tungsten?” he scoffed, “I’m not buying my fiance a tungsten ring.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Vince frowned, completely out of his depth. Buying Wendy her birthday gift had taken him hours and he still wasn’t convinced he had done a good job. Probably had, Jonah wouldn’t be there if he didn’t think the quality and design were good enough.

“Tungsten is extremely durable, almost impossible to scratch-” Luke shrugged and Jonah glared at him.

“And cheap,” he said sharply, “I want a real ring for Leo.”

“How real?” Vince raised his eyebrows, noticing Niccolo — the owner — visibly perk up as it became clear Jon was down for purchasing the whole store if needed.

“The best. I want a diamond. Or a bunch,” Jonah leaned over the display, as Niccolo hurried to get his best stuff out of the safe, as well as his design magazines.

“You want personalized, son?” the man asked and Jon shook his head.

“No time, I want to propose before his birthday,” he explained, “and that’s next month.”

“We could design something in time,” the man shrugged, opening the bunch of magazines, “how’s this boy of yours? Flashy? Shy?”

“Shy,” Luke got up from his crouched down position, “Leo would rather die than walk around with a huge sparkly ring, Jon, you know that.”

Jonah pouted, “but I want it to be a wedding ring,” he stressed, “I want everyone to know he’s married from across the court.”

“Lawyer?” Niccolo raised an eyebrow, shutting his magazine and throwing it to the side, opening a much older one, “is he traditional?”

“More or less…” Jonah shook his head, while Vince interrupted him, nodding.

“Yes,” he flicked at Jon’s ear, “he’s shy and not flashy at all. He also doesn’t wear jewelry, so it has to be comfy.”

“It has to be yellow,” Jon didn’t argue with Vince, despite grimacing.

Luke frowned, “he’s blonde and super pasty, white gold would look prettier-”

“I want yellow gold, I want it to be clear it’s a wedding band.”

“Don’t be silly,” Niccolo shook his head, “it can be white gold or platinum and still look like a wedding band.”

“He’s in a straight dominated field where men wear rings, if he has a silver band people will assume it's just some ring,” Jonah groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “this is pretty.”

“Absolutely not,” Vince and Luke chorused, looking at the yellow band Jon was pointing at, with three baguette diamonds in the peak.

“Alright, so yellow gold,” Niccolo flipped through the pages, “and not flashy, but flashy enough people know.”

“It has to be something he likes,” Jonah sighed, studying the rings, “he’s gonna wear it until he dies, so.”

Luke let out a snort, “or not,” he mumbled, only to immediately recoil and jump back as Jon turned to face him like a snake, “because he might get a new one!” he exclaimed, hands raised as if his friend was gonna hit him, “relax!”

“Shut up, you don’t know Leo enough. What do you think, Vin?” Jonah turned away from Luke and Vince grinned, noticing the other man pout behind Jon.

“I think I agree with you about the yellow,” he shrugged, “but the diamonds are a bit much, man. Let’s focus on how thick it is, how about?”

Jonah didn’t know it could take so long to pick a ring. He had expected it would take more than a couple of minutes, after all he was a perfectionist and not willing to compromise in this matter, but at every little thing he said, Luke and Vince had twenty different arguments.

Finally, after about two hours of back and forth, they settled on a yellow gold ring, with a brushed finish instead of smooth polish and with a baguette small diamond sitting in the middle of it.

“Now you need to pick the thickness,” Niccolo said, “wait a minute while I get my kit. Sit around, Vincenzo knows where the coffee is. Have a torrone.”

Jonah snorted quietly to himself, he had never been to a jewelry shop that offered a torrone or any type of sticky, sweet food. But then again he had never been in a locally owned shop.

He walked outside, hearing as Vince and Luke bickered over the gem cut — Vince still thought the pear one was prettier, Luke was team no gem and partial to some design fussiness on the band — and then pressed his forehead to the brick wall outside the store and picked out his phone.

There wasn’t a text from Leo, they had last spoken that morning, when Jonah had lied through his teeth that he had a surgery to watch that evening and so they couldn’t have lunch together.

Jonah rolled his shoulders, letting out a breath. He felt stiff all over from stress, the huge weight of picking something that could make or break his proposal making him sweat. He felt nauseous too, but in all truth he had been feeling sick to his stomach with nerves ever since Leo got his promotion and Jon made up his mind about proposing.

That had always been his plan, after all. Wait until his boyfriend got the promotion that would put them on equal pay, so Leo wouldn’t have a breakdown over wedding prices or feeling like he was being given anything when Jackie inevitably tried to hijack the bill…

“You okay?” Luke planted a hand on his elbow.

Lucas was almost levitating with how happy he was. It was like he was the one getting married, the dude simply didn’t seem able to stop smiling, even now looking a little concerned and holding a paper cup of coffee.

“Yeah,” Jonah wiped the sweat off and straightened up, “Niccolo is back?”

“Yep, we’re just waiting for you,” Luke chugged the rest of the coffee that his hyper ass definitely didn’t need and squeezed Jon’s bicep in a cuteness aggression fit, shoving him further inside the store.

The old owner was holding a large hoop, with a bunch of silver rings on it. Upon Jonah arriving, he opened the hoop, so he could remove the rings one by one, “you said he’s traditional and shy, but not so traditional —” the man said, barely looking up, with that certainty of someone who’s been doing their job their entire life, “and you’ll have a diamond on the band, so you need some thickness, especially if you don’t want the bling to stand out that much…”

He carefully pushed two bands towards Jon, “try these on and tell me what you think, son.”

Jonah went to grab it, only for his hand to completely miss it. He blinked a couple times, feeling Vince grab him by the elbow.

“Jon, hey- You wanna sit down?”

“No, I’m fine,” Jon shook his head, swallowing down the heightened nausea and grabbing the ring on the left. It was too large on his hand, he had thinner pianist fingers, but the important part was the width, “looks a bit bulky… What size is the rock again?”

Niccolo grabbed a tiny piece of sticker paper and measured, cutting it out and then planting the paper in the middle of the band, “this size.”

“Yeah, no…” Jon shook his head, “not this one.”

“That’s a 5.5mm, try the 4.5mm one,” Niccolo took the ring back, once again doing the paper trick, “that’s a more old fashioned groom width.”

“I think it looks better,” Luke said, as if someone asked him, poking his head in. Jonah nodded, suddenly feeling too woozy. He darted out a hand to grab on something… Anything… Then landed on Vince’s forearm and squeezed.

“That’s the one,” Jon determined, dead set on getting the bloody ring before vertigo took him out, “uhm- Luke, can you…?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can,” Lucas stepped in front of him, smiling to the confused old man, “I’m buying.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jon overheard Niccolo say, but there was a ringing in his ears starting to drown everything out. He squeezed Vince’s arm, “help me outside…”

Vince helped him the couple of steps it took for them to get to the door, then he wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled Jon almost off his feet, dragging him to a bus stop bench.

Jonah crumpled, spreading his legs and grabbing on the plastic of the bench with all his force, breathing through his mouth, “Fuck,” he sighed, cold sweat spreading down his back, “of all days…”

“I’m sorry, man,” Vince squeezed his nape, “help me here, what do I do?”

“No-nothing…” Jonah leaned forward even more, as his stomach rolled, the world turning into a complete blur. He let out a whimper, feeling like he was falling forward, except the ground never met his face, he just kept falling, falling-

“Should he be lying down!?” Vince’s voice broke through the fog, “I don’t know what to do, you’re the one who’s good with sick people!”

“Not sick like this!” Luke’s voice answered and Jonah groaned, blindly trying to grab at Luke and shut him up.

“Ssssstop-” Jonah slurred, realizing his mouth felt super sticky and his pants humid. Oh no. Had he wet himself?

Mortification caused Jon to open his eyes, only to realize the wet spot was just the fact he had puked the McBacon he had had with Luke on their way to Doveport all over the ground and his pants.

The sight of the chunky brown mess caused his stomach to flip again and Jonah heaved once more, the movement ruining the sliver of balance he had regained and sending the world spinning on its axis once more.

“ — My place?” Vince, his voice much closer now, as if he was talking in his ear. Jon let his head roll towards the sound and his cheek met something soft- Vince’s thigh? Stomach?

“I guess!?” Lucas, sounding more than a little nervous, “should we call Leo? Wendy? Hell, your mom?!”

Jon groaned. He wanted none of these people, except maybe Wendy. He desperately wanted Leo’s comfort and the fact his boyfriend wouldn’t be freaking out like the two idiots, but that would mean telling Leo what he was doing in fucking Doveport and-

“Noo,” he slurred, his voice muffled by something, probably Vince’s shirt, “no k- no calling-” his stomach was done with his words and Jonah coughed again, as liquid rushed up his throat and world tilted completely to the left, then right-

“I’m calling Leo,” Lucas, all decisive, “there’s no way this is normal, right? I’m calling him.”

“The fuck will Leo do if this isn’t?” Vince, sounding far away now. Jonah tried to cling to his voice and make himself responsive, but he just… Couldn’t. When he tried to open his eyes again, he realized he was in a completely different place.

A pink room?

The black spots clumped in front of his eyes and Jonah let out a whimper, scared and humiliated, and then darkness swallowed him up.

-----------------------------

“Where is he?” Leo’s heart was hammering in his ears. He didn’t suppose anything was scarier than hearing the person you loved the most was completely down for the count, hours away.

Luke’s call had come at the very end of his day, just as he was packing up to go home. Leo had never made it home, he picked it up on the elevator and felt his heart plummet down to his stomach.

During the four hours of drive he had plenty of time to think, but had actually done none of that. His head was spinning, nothing made sense, but he didn’t actually give a shit about puzzling things together until he got a look on Jon, because from the way Luke described it, all panicked, it sounded like his worst case yet.

In fucking Doveport.

He hadn’t been to Vince’s new place yet and for a second Leo felt completely out of place, standing outside of the small one bedroom apartment. Then Luke stepped out of the bedroom, the front of his shirt with a huge wet spot on it and looking visibly worried and Leo’s confusion melted straight into worry.

“He’s here, but he’s really out of it,” Luke leaned on the doorway as Leo walked past him, storming into Vince’s bedroom.

Jonah was a sight to behold. His six foot tall boyfriend was curled up on his side, almost in a fetal position and looking terribly tiny.

“God, Jon…” Leo walked closer, sitting on the bed and touching the other man’s naked shoulder. Luke and Vince had stripped him down to just his boxers, but he had no fever, in fact he felt cold and clammy to the touch, “why did you dumbasses remove his clothes?”

“Uhm- He kinda, hurled all over ‘em?” Vince scratched at his cheeks, seeming embarrassed, “we didn’t know what to do, once we got them off every time we tried to move him to get him dressed he just seemed to get worse…”

“Great, that’s just fucking great,” Leo scoffed, scooting closer and stroking Jon’s cheek, pushing his tight curls back, “did you get any water in him? When did-”

“It was around 4 PM,” Luke answered, while Vince shook his head to the previous question.

Leo glanced at his watch. 9:26 PM. Amazing.

“Get me some water, the meds that are in my car, in the glovebox, and a straw. And an empty bowl. And a big sweater, he’s fucking freezing,” he glared at the two, before returning his gaze back to Jon, stroking his head again, “Jonah…” he whispered, leaning in, “angel, I need you to wake up.”

His boyfriend was completely out. His breath smelled sweet, causing Leo’s nose to wrinkle, and he was shivering violently. Leo smoothed a hand down his naked back, moving even closer and feeling Jonah’s steady heartbeat.

“Hey, Jon,” he pressed his hand in, instead of shaking him, “baby, wake up.”

It took another minute of gentle pushing and calling until Jon’s eyes slipped open. He was out of it and his eyes rolled back, taking another thirty seconds to fully focus on Leo.

“Oh no,” he groaned, curling up more, “not you.”

“Yeah, me,” Leo rolled his eyes, pushing the flash of hurt he felt at Jonah’s words away and grabbing the items Luke had planted on Vince’s bedside table, “I need you to drink some water, okay?”

“Won’t stay down…” Jonah whispered, closing his eyes again, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows as if he was in pain, “Leo, I don’t feel well…”

“I know, angel, I know,” Leo’s heart squeezed in sympathy and he leaned in, planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s brow, “trust me here, okay?” he squeezed Jon’s arm, before turning slightly around in order to dissolve the little pink pill that was supposed to help with the vertigo episodes in the glass of water.

Technically speaking, Leo was aware he shouldn’t do this. Wendy had scolded him once about it… But so far it worked like a charm every time and Leo was not about to listen to Wendy when the matter was Jon.

“Okay, just a tiny sip,” he held the straw between his fingers, pushing it in Jonah’s mouth and grabbing the man’s pillow in order to tilt his body up just enough he could swallow without choking, “just one, baby.”

It took some prodding, but eventually Jonah took what Leo counted as a fourth of the water. He glanced at his watch again. 09:41 PM.

“Try to keep this down and we’ll try the rest in a bit,” Leo whispered, draping Vince’s older sweater around Jonah’s naked shoulders and continuing to pet his hair.

Luke entered the room, every bit like a dog with his tail between his legs, “is he okay…?”

“He will be,” Leo rolled his tense shoulders, then turned his head until his jaw clicked, holding all the tension on his mouth, “what the fuck is he doing in Doveport?”

Luke and Vince exchanged a look, then they both shrugged.

Leo squinted at them, “well?”

“I called him,” Vince said, his whole face turning red, “I called them both, I’m sorry, I just- I was having a bit of a breakdown over Wendy and Jonah just came over to say I’m stupid and-”

“And he brought Luke?” Leo didn’t buy this for a second, but most importantly, the fact Vince was lying to his face only made him feel more furious, “okay.”

“He did! Because he knows I’m the only one who can get through Vince!” Luke sounded so smug about the lie, Leo stared at him, unimpressed. He let his eyes drift away from the dark haired men, looking around the room.

Jonah’s clothes were folded on top of Vince’s little office table, alongside other papers and all sorts of school items, like stickers and scissors. One of Vin’s bedroom walls was painted dusty pink.

“You called Jonah first?” Leo asked, feeling his blood turn to ice in his veins, as Vince nodded enthusiastically.

“I mean, it was about Wendy,” he said, as if that explained everything. Leo nodded, looking over his shoulder. Outside the window he could see Luke’s green jeep parked all crooked in front of the place.

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed through his teeth, turning mechanically and grabbing the glass of water, “Jon, let’s try another sip, baby.”

It took nearly one hour to have Jon fully draining the glass and by then Leo was in full automatic pilot. If he thought too much about the lies, then his thoughts turned a dark, spiraling path that he didn’t enjoy and he didn’t want to indulge.

Because lies or no lies, he knew Jonah would never do any of the things his brain kept sprouting up. Break up with him. Cheat.

“I’m fine,” Leo overheard Luke say across the house, as Vince ordered all of them food from the living couch, “no, Bell, I’m really fine, I promise. I’m with Vin, Leo and Jon.”

Leo gulped down the knot in his throat and glanced down, to Jonah napping near his thigh, still all curled up. At least now he had quit shivering violently and none of the medicine had made it back up, so it was well into his bloodstream.

They were out of the woods, as soon as Jon woke up he’d feed him another round of meds and then-

“Leo?” Jonah whispered, curling up even more and pressing his forehead to the blonde’s knee, “Leo?”

“Hey,” Leo leaned in, folding in half and forcing his voice past the lump in his throat, “I’m here.”

“Uhm,” Jon let out a little pleased noise, then opened his eyes, “I wanna go home.”

“In a little bit,” Leo kissed his cheek, squeezing his arm, “let’s try sitting up first, okay? It’s a long trip, you really don’t wanna be in the car in case you’re not feeling your best-”

“Leo,” Jonah frowned at him, pushing himself up and letting out a moan, getting a gray cast as he paled, “what’s wrong?”

“My boyfriend is sick?” Leo rolled his eyes, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice, “how’s sitting up?”

“It’s fine,” Jonah raised a shaky hand to his face, rubbing the sleep off his eyes, “I wanna go home.”

“We’re leaving in a bit,” Leo said more firmly, pushing back and collecting his dignity. He felt terrible, equal parts worried and furious and intrigued and terrified – “drink some water, will you?”

Jonah obeyed, frowning, but he was right. He really was as fine as he was going to get so soon, even if weak and shaky, clearly nauseous still.

Leo managed to keep him down for another one hour and a half, but by the time midnight rolled on — Vince flipping through the TV channels clearly trying to be a decent host, while Lucas had passed out on the floor next to the couch, his head tipped back as he snored —, Jonah glared at him and said in a firm voice, “I wanna sleep in my bed. Can we please go home?”

Leo nodded, rubbing his eyes and trying to feel a little less sleepy himself. He wasn’t so sure he could drive, but he was feeling too proud to admit to that.

“Are you sure?” Vince yawned, stumbling up as he saw Leo helping Jonah put on his clothes – they had already been washed and dried long before, “you can stay the night, guys, take my bed and I’ll take the couch and-”

“No, we’re leaving,” Jonah shook his head, holding tightly on the wall to stay upright, “thank you, for everything, but no.”

Vin didn’t look one bit pleased, “this is a horrible idea, it's super late... Leo tell him it’s a horrible idea-”

“We’re going,” Leo couldn’t feel a shred of sympathy for Vince. He was trying, but failing miserably. Now that Jonah was up and stubborn as ever, concern was quickly getting replaced with simple, unmitigated fury.

“Please call me when you get there,” Vince hung at the door, “please? I’m gonna be up.”

“We’ll call,” Jonah agreed, stumbling to Leo’s car and bracing against it, breathing through his mouth. For a split second Leo considered staying, ignoring Jon’s stubbornness and his own pride and the anger and fear bubbling at the pit of his stomach and just stay and think all of this through in the morning-

“Goodnight guys,” Vince said in a small voice and Jonah waved, opening a little secret smile to the guy and Leo’s second thoughts burst like a bubble.

They needed to head home and only then he’d be able to think things through clearly.

Leo’s fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel as they hit the road, Jon curling up against the window and watching the cars zoom past them. Headlights turning into lines of yellow and white and red.

“Why were you there?” Leo asked, one hour into the trip, when he could no longer hold it in. He turned up the heater, just a bit, noticing Jon was trembling again.

His boyfriend shrugged, but didn’t say anything, and Leo squeezed the steering wheel with a bit more force.

“Jonah,” he said, his voice dropping, “I need you to talk with me, because I’m freaking out-”

“I can’t tell you,” Jonah’s voice was shot, “I can’t, okay? You just have to trust me-”

“You already lied to me today, so cut the crap and tell me what were you doing in Doveport and not in surgery like you said-”

“Vince told you!” Jon exclaimed and Leo looked away from the road, his eyes wide in complete shock and anger.

“You mean the lie he told me!? Do you think I’m stupid?!” Leo forced himself to look ahead, “Vince cannot lie to save his life and you want me-”

“It wasn’t a-”

“He called you first, but it was Luke’s jeep outside, not your car. In his story, you picked up Luke,” Leo hissed, starting to see red, “you lied to my face this morning, Jonah, so this was not some random, panicked call you got in the middle of your day. This was premeditated and-”

“Can’t you just please trust me?” Jonah glared at him, “Leo, what reason do you have not to trust me-”

“The fact that you’re LYING!?” Leo exclaimed, pulling the car to the dust shoulder and causing Jon to let out a whine at the sudden motion. He couldn’t drive like this, barely paying the road any attention.

Jon was breathing through the dizziness when Leo turned to him, panting as he tried to keep his emotions at bay, “Jon, just be honest with me-”

“Please, please just drop it. It’s nothing bad-”

“Are you cheating on me?” Leo said without thinking and felt pathetic as he heard the words said out loud. He knew this wasn’t it, he knew it deep in his bones that whatever Jonah did, it would never be that.

It didn’t stop the intrusive thought from continuously sprouting up.

Jonah’s head snapped and he glared at Leo, all vulnerability slipping away for a second and being replaced with anger, “oh my god, listen to yourself, Leo! You really think, I- God, you’re being fucking- You’re ruining everything,” he pushed the passenger door open and pushed himself out, causing Leo to jump out of the car as well.

“I don’t know what to think! You’ve been acting weird for days and now you’re lying to me and your little buddies are all helping in the lie and I’m here, fucking nursing you-”

“I DIDN’T FUCKING ASK YOU TO COME!” Jon yelled, hitting the car with a hand and Leo jumped at the explosion, his eyes wide and his heart speeding up, only to suddenly stop as Jonah’s shoulders shook and he folded in, grabbing on the top of the car with both hands and letting his head hang.

Leo took a second, trying to make any sense of the scene in front of him, but then his body was moving before his mind caught up. Grabbing Jon by the shoulder, feeling his whole frame shake with sobs.

“Jon- Shit, shit, shit, Jonah I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Leo mumbled frantically, his thoughts clearing up due to the searing certainty he had just messed up severely, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby, shit-” he cupped Jonah’s face and tried to wipe away the tears, only for the other man to shove his hands away.

“Stop- Stop fucking t-touching me-” Jonah groaned, stumbling and falling sit on the passenger side, his legs still out of the car, covering his face with his hands as he continued to cry, “I can’t be-believe you think I- I would never- I-”

“No, I know, I know,” Leo sunk to his knees, mind reeling as he ignored Jon’s plea to stop touching him and grabbed his boyfriend’s wrist, “Jon, I’m so sorry, I’m an ass, I know you wouldn’t-”

Jonah’s whole frame shook with a sob and he angrily shoved Leo back, but in his movement the blonde got a decent look at his face and his heart broke in a billion pieces. Jonah looked genuinely hurt, tears streaming down his face and clinging to his chin, green eyes all red due to the crying-

“I’m so sorry,” Leo leaned in, pressing his forehead to Jonah’s and cupping his face, “baby, please stop crying-”

“I- I was-was,” Jonah pulled back, angrily wiping the tears and Leo let out a whine at the loss of contact.

“I don’t wanna know,” he cut him off, “you’ll tell me later, a- another day,” Leo forced himself to say, “it’s fine, I don’t wanna-”

“I was buying your fucking proposal ring,” Jonah spat, glaring at him, his voice raspy, “and now you ruined it.”

Leo’s ears rang and he fell back on his ass in the humid grass, feeling like suddenly he was the one who had vertigo. He opened and closed his mouth, then felt tears springing up, “my proposal ring?” the question didn’t even sound like his voice.

Jonah scoffed, nodding, “yeah. You jackass, your proposal ring. Happy now? I was gonna propose at your birthday and they were just helping me and now you fucking ruined it and-”

“Yes,” Leo answered, without thinking and causing Jon’s mouth to snap shut, then open again, then shut in a tight line.

“No,” he glared at the blonde, “I’m not-”

“I’ll ask then,” Leo rolled his eyes, moving forward so he was resting on just one knee in front of the car door, “you can’t un-propose, you bought me a ring, I- I’ll ask. Are you gonna say no?”

Jonah frowned, clearly stuck between the rock and the sword, because he really didn’t want to propose on the side of the road, with his head throbbing from crying and puking, still wanting to strangle Leo and feeling wounded as fuck- With the ring on the pocket of his jacket… But there was simply no world or reality where he said no to Leo asking him to marry him.

“You can’t steal my proposal,” Jonah scoffed, grabbing the box in his pocket and grossly sniffling, wiping the tears with the back of his hand, “you’re such a dick,” he opened the box.

“You’re a romantic,” Leo grinned, then chuckled, “I can’t see the ring, it’s too dark.”

“SEE!” Jonah exclaimed, angry, “it’s a horrible proposal and you’re the one who ruined-” he never quite finished the complaint, as Leo leaped and kissed him, pushing Jon flat on his back inside the car.

“I don’t need to see the ring,” Leo groaned, kissing him again and again, "the answer is always yes, Jon. Ring, no ring, it's always yes.”

#mywriting #sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #jonah banks #angst #fluff #crying #this fic is a lot #🍄 anon

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dilxcc · 3 months

Text

chapter five

summary. in which two friends who desperately clings to each other until the other slips away . . .

contains. fem!reader, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slowburn, cussing, grammatical errors . . .

note. i swear this chapter would be more enjoyable if you read it while listening to kai's come in. ALSO FOR EVERYONE'S INFORMATION!! i actually was listening to kai's say you love me (i thought it fits the yandere theme much more but angst works too hehe) when i come up with this ff 🤭 im not even going to lie when i say most of his songs inspired me to write

previous chapter

his face was adorned with a sweet smile. one hand caressing your hair while the other were wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. you were too caught up in what was happening until he was suddenly further away from you. your voice were stuck in your throat, desperately trying to call out for him.

that gentle smile were replaced with resentment. you didn't get what was happening. your heart ache as he continue to get further away. you begged for your legs to start moving ― to start chasing after him. but it wouldn't move.

you woke up with a start, slightly out of breath as you take in your surrounding. your head was immediately turned towards the door when it swung open, revealing the very source of your nightmare. "satoru..." you muttered. despite your best effort to look like nothing had happened, he had already caught on to it.

"you good?" he asked, sitting down on the side of the bed. "yeah," you answered almost immediately. he knew that was not the case. hell, he's been friends with you since your teenage years. of course, he would know if something was wrong. but he didn't push the topic any further. "are the kids okay?" you asked softly. he put the plastic bag that he brought with him on the bedside table. "they are. thanks to you," he smiled slightly.

you let out a sigh of relief before laying back down on the bed. "i brought your favorites," he said, his eyes were wandering around the hospital room. "eat it while it's still hot," he added.

for the next few minutes, he accompanied you as you ate your lunch ― that was what he told you. as if noticing your constant need to clear your throat, he suddenly got up from his seat and started walking towards the door. "where are you going?" you immediately asked. "missing me already?" he asked with a teasing smile, making you to crack a smile of your own. "i'm getting you water," he said softly, his hand on the doorknob. "i'll be back in a few,"

after he left, you were left alone with your thoughts. your mind wander back to the dream you just had. was it really a dream..? or was it some sort of prediction that might happen in the future? you shook your head slightly, denying all possibilities. there was no way that would happen... right?

the two students clung onto you, tears staining their faces as they shout words of gratefulness. "you scared us back there!" itadori started. "we thought that you died!"

gojo only watched the scene unfolding before him with amusement. the fushiguro boy had a concerned look on his face but he was trying his hard to not show it.

after a few minutes of consoling your students, they finally calmed down and returned to their usual routine. you were left alone with the gojo satoru yet again. "don't you have a business trip? you usually have one," you muttered.

"told those old men that i'm busy," the white haired male shrugged. "then why are you still here?" you tilted your head in disbelief. he let out a chuckle and shrugged. "let's hang out," he smiled brightly, dodging your question expertly. he do know why he was here ― why he was reluctant to leave your side. he was scared that you might get hurt again; that you might... leave him.

you sighed and shook your head. "i can't, satoru. i still have classes," you rejected. "oh, you mean the one you had after this? loosen up. you still got two more days before you actually need to start teaching again," he said. "plus, those kids won't have a single mission any time soon," he smiled.

"no, means no, satoru," you sighed. "yes, you mean?" he insisted. without asking for your permission, he grabbed your hand and warped the two of you in front of a sweets shop. "satoru!" you groaned.

without letting go of your hand, he starts walking inside the shop, looking through at the various flavors they have. "choose your favorite," he said softly before letting go of your hand and wander around the store in search for his favorite flavors.

you sighed in defeat before you decided to give in and take a look around the store. it had different flavors, some you have heard of and some that you have never heard of. your eyes stopped at the familiar candy that you used to eat back in the days. yours and satoru's favorite.

you wondered if it was still his favorite.

sitting at the park bench, you unwrapped the toffee plastic and popped it inside your mouth. "oh," satoru was frozen in his spot, his eyes glued on the confectionery. he remembered the times during your teenage days when both you and satoru would eat these candies under a tree, laughing at each other's joke.

"still your favorite?" he asked softly, his eyes soften behind his black glasses. you hummed and closed your eyes. "i haven't ate this since..." he trailed off. obviously he meant since the time that your relationship drifted away. "yeah, me too," you smiled bitterly.

he scoot himself closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. there was no words needed to be exchanged. just simply being in silence with him, the chirping of the birds and his raging heartbeats were enough.

taglist: @wooasecret @charisthemaniac @tw0fvced @1lellykins @dnnalssndra

masterlist

#say you love me : chapter five #say you love me #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk #fluff #angst #slow burn #jjk fluff #jjk angst

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arent-i-the-fairest · 2 years

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

some staff members taking care of a sick reader. (platonic)

characters : dire crowley, divus crewel, sam

dire crowley

“headmaster, are you sure you’re fit for this? because this place has plenty of nurses that are.”

your comment made crowley gasp and stop what he was doing. before he had the chance to start running around bawling, you had to backtrack.

“i mean— i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to call you incompetent or anything! it’s just that i, uh… don’t wanna inconvenience you? yeah! y’know, since you’re so busy all the time..” you sputtered, offering him an awkward grin.

crowley held a hand up to his heart, tearing up. “oh! how kind of you, child! it seems my benevolence has rubbed off on you! but not to worry! why, i have plenty of time to finish my work later!” he sniffled.

you immediately relaxed. thank god he bought it! but man, are you gonna make it out alive in his care? is it too late to call someone a bit more reliable?

“i will nurse you back to perfect health! ohoho, how incredibly kind of me~!” he laughs as he skipped away to god knows where.

he’s outraged at the assumption that he doesn’t know how to care for sick people! taking care of you can’t be that hard! he can cook you a hearty meal, and… and read you a bed time story! that’ll make you better! hell, maybe he can even sing you a lullaby! he’s pretty sure he’s got a bandaid or two too if you need them!

—yeah, no, he’s not the most ideal person for the job. the most helpful things he could do is fetch you your medicine and refill your glass of water when it’s empty. and cheer you up, you suppose. he’s very entertaining despite not meaning to be.

you flinch as the door suddenly slams open. standing there in the doorway is crowley with a bowl in hand with a goofy smile on his face.

“please excuse the wait! now here, i’ve made you some soup! i taste tested it, and it’s delicious, if i do say so myself!” he smiles proudly, not at all hiding his haughtiness.

looking at the meal, it actually did look quite good. smelled really good too! you frowned, feeling a bit guilty. maybe you were a bit too harsh, thinking he was totally incapable…

“now, enough of my chatter! open wide, here comes the airplane!” crowley cooed as he started waving a spoonful of the soup towards your mouth.

“i’m not a child, headmaster!” you complained, yet still opened your mouth as the spoon came closer. you drank the soup— and immediately recoiled at the taste. “it’s repulsive!”

divus crewel

“good grief.. i told you not to go out in the rain with those other pups!” crewel hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “look where you are now!”

though the scolding was a bit harsh, he was right. you were sitting in bed with a runny nose, itchy red eyes, and a high fever. while running around and playing in the rain with your friends was fun, it was definitely not worth this.

“honestly, just what am i going to do with you?” crewel looked at you with a softer expression. you sit in silence as he sighs, unboxing the medicine he brought for you.

he’s strict, even while you’re sick. he watches you like a hawk for most of the day, cooks you only the healthiest of meals, doesn’t let you leave your bed unless you absolutely need to, and keeps track of how much time is left until you need to take your medicine down to the second. he’s aware he’s being a bit overbearing, but he just wants to see you better as soon as possible.

“hey, now that i think about it, classes are still in session right now. are alchemy classes cancelled today since you aren’t there?”

crewel scoffs. “of course not. i wouldn’t just give everyone a free day off. but i also don’t trust a single pup using chemicals unsupervised, so i have the headmaster substituting for me.” he said. you quirked an eyebrow and he returned the look.

“you seriously trust the headmaster enough to let him look after a class full of rambunctious, clumsy— and sorry for saying this, but sometimes downright dumb students? who are all handling dangerous chemicals?”

you could see concern growing on crewel’s face as he considered the chaos that could be happening right now in his classroom.

“... perhaps i should check up on them.”

sam

“knock knock, little imp! i heard from my friends from the other side that you’re sick. is that true?” sam asked as he entered your room.

you weakly turned over to look at him and nodded. “it sure is.”

“no worries, i’m here to help ‘ya! just tell me whatcha need and you got it! i’m only here for half an hour though. i’m sorry, kid.” he frowned. “i gotta get back to my shop, but you can always call me!”

sam, while he hates to leave you alone sick, still has to manage his shop. he’s not too concerned though, he knows you’re plenty capable of caring for yourself! but every few hours, he’ll come back to check up on you. each time does, he brings you food/snacks and sometimes a weird (but ultimately cool) knick-knack to come with it. just a little something to brighten your mood!

you perk up at the sound of knocking.

“hey hey~! guess who’s back?” sam whistled. “i brought you some dinner. and your favorite drink! and this little clay statue. ain’t he neat?”

you nodded, thanking him as he put the stuff down beside you. the statue caught your eye, so you picked it up and played around with it. it looked oddly familiar.

“hey wait! i swear i’ve seen this thing sitting on your desk for the past few months..” you flip it around in your hands, analyzing it.

“yeah, it’s been a favorite of mine. there’s actually a funny story behind it if you’re interested in hearin’ it.” sam said, leaning against your bed’s headboard. you looked up at him with interest clear in your eyes.

“ooh, tell me!”

“heh, alright!” sam laughed, ruffling your hair. “so a couple years ago…”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #dire crowley x reader #divus crewel x reader #twst sam x reader #gn reader

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before-it-felt-like-a-sin · 2 months

Note

jackie comforting reader in the bathroom of a party and it ends with her kissing reader.

Teenage Dream

You thought unwinding on a Friday night would be good for you. You didn't think you'd end up in the bathroom with the Yellowjackets captain.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety/anxiety attacks, drug and alcohol usage

-----------------------------------------------------

You thought getting out of the house would help. You really did. Your anxiety had gotten really bad recently. No particular reason for it. Maybe it was your classes. Maybe it was your friends. Maybe it was the weather. Honestly it didn't matter. You were stressed out.

Parties weren't necessarily your thing. Not to say you didn't frequent them. It was hard not to, when your best fiends were Nat and Van. They were always down for a good time.

You sat and sipped your drink on the couch. Van was somewhere with Taissa. You were glad the two of them were getting close. Maybe more than close.

Natalie, on the other hand, was sprawled out across your lap, high as hell. Not that this was out of the ordinary. Nat was high as hell most of the time.

No one else that you recognized was in your immediate vicinity. There were so many people around you. They were all dancing and having fun. The music was blasting.

Maybe coming out tonight wasn't your best idea.

All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your shoulder. This caused you to flinch away. You didn't know who this was. You didn't want to be hit on. Or touched.

"Hey, y/n, it's just me. You don't need to jump." So the hand on your shoulder belonged to Jackie. At least it was someone you knew.

"Oh. Sorry Jax. I'm just a bit on edge today."

"No worries. It's loud as fuck in here. I'd be on edge if someone randomly touched me too. So sorry about that." She smiled apologetically at you. "Mind if I sit?"

"Oh, yeah. If you want." You nudged Natalie out of the way so that you could scoot over.

Jackie sat down next to you, and you were so close to her that your thighs were touching. The couch wasn't exactly built to sit three people at once.

The party was still loud. Everything was still too bright. And now you were squished between two people on a couch that was only supposed to fit like one and a half people. Not to mention that your long-term crush was sitting next to you. Your supposed fun night out was not at all fun right now.

"I'm running to the bathroom," you said abruptly. Before anyone could respond, you were up off the couch and pushing your way through the sea of bodies. Which wasn't helping your anxiety.

When you finally made it to the bathroom, you locked the door and immediately started sobbing. There were so many people. They all thought you were crazy. They thought that you were weird. They knew you were having an anxiety attack. They knew you were crying.

It was hard to catch a breath. You couldn't breathe. Why couldn't you breathe. No matter how many breaths you took, there wasn't any air in your lungs. You were getting lightheaded.

You slid down the door, head in your hands. You still couldn't breathe. God, why couldn't you just get a breath in? This was pathetic. You were pathetic. Normal people didn't fucking break down over a party goddammit.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. You sat there silently trying to regulate your breathing, praying that the person on the other side couldn't hear you. After a moment, when you didn't say anything, the door handle rattled.

"Y/n, are you in there?" You heard Jackie's voice ask. You couldn't respond. You could barely breathe.

"Y/n, please. You have to say something." She sounded worried. You didn't want her to worry for you. You didn't want her to know anything was wrong.

"I'm not leaving until you say something. Or until you let me in there." She pounded on the door again. You still sat in silence, trying to collect yourself.

She just kept knocking.

Eventually, you caved and turned the lock so that she could open the door. When she heard the click, she immediately pushed the door open. Or tried to, since you were sitting in front of it.

You quickly moved out of the way so that Jackie could actually make it inside. She took one step in and when she saw your red, puffy face, hers immediately softened.

"Hey, y/n, what's wrong?" She asked, moving to sit next to you. You couldn't respond. Your breaths were still shallow, and there were still tears streaming down your face.

When you didn't say anything, she just took your hand in hers and squeezed it.

"Everything's going to be okay, alright? I'm here for you. Just try to take a deep breath. Are you able to breathe with me?" She looked at you expectantly and you nodded.

She started to inhale, and you did your best to match it. You both did that for a while, Jackie breathing deeply and you mimicking her.

When you finally caught your breath, you smiled at Jackie.

"Thanks. I'm sorry you had to see me like this. Normally I'm more put together."

"I'm the one who forced you to open the door. Don't apologize. I wanted to help you." She squeezed your hand again.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened? Did something trigger this, or..?" She trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

"There was just a lot going on. This hasn't been the greatest week for me. I failed a math test. My friends are being weird. And my anxiety just kind of peaked here," You explained.

"I'm sorry, y/n. That's horrible. You don't deserve that."

"I just wish it didn't happen today. It feels like nothing can go right this week."

"Can I hug you?" She asked.

You nodded. When she wrapped her arms around you, you immediately relaxed. There was so comforting about her.

The both of you just sat there for a while, Jackie's arms around you, holding you close.

"This is nice," she whispered, so softly you weren't sure if you were even supposed to hear it.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted you to do this," you whispered back.

"Hug me?"

"Not... just hug you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked innocently.

"Come on, Jackie. You know what I mean."

"You have to say it," she teased.

"Oh come on," you responded, rolling your eyes.

"Just say it!"

"Fine! Okay! I like you! Is that good enough for you?" You asked.

Jackie pulled back from the hug and smiled at you.

"Yes. Now you can kiss me."

"Oh, can I?" It was your turn to tease her now. But instead of caving, she just waited for you to lean in.

If course, you caved. You leaned toward her, and met her soft lips in yours. She pulled you in, trying to get you as close as possible. Your hands were tangled in her hair, and hers rested on your hips.

You two sat like that for what seemed like ages, drinking each other in. Tongues and teeth and lips. Your hands ran over each others hips and thighs and got tangled in each others hair. You traced the curve of her jaw. She tugged on your hair. It was perfect.

Until someone knocked on the door.

"Y/n? Are you still in there?" Van's voice sounded from outside the bathroom.

Before you could say anything, Van opened the door to see you and Jackie tangled up on the bathroom floor, still kissing. When you heard the door, you immediately jumped apart.

"You know what? I regret asking. Enjoy yourselves." With that, Van slammed the door shut, and you and Jackie were alone again.

You looked at each other and burst into giggles.

"Maybe we should lock the door," you said, still laughing.

"Maybe you're right."

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #yellowjackets season 1 #jackie taylor #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor x yn #Jackie Taylor x curvy reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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i have a request!

maybe one where steve knows he's bisexual before eddie but ofc, eddie thinks he's straight and doesn't think he has a chance, so he just takes whatever he can get with steve's friendship even though he has the biggest crush on steve and vice versa. but when eddie does find out about both, eddie would be internally screaming bc he could have been in a relationship with him and kissing steve ages ago.

i just love gay disaster eddie and confident bisexual steve haha

THANK YOU FOR THIS!!! This one could genuinely be a multi-chapter fic, so if someone has the time, I would love LOVE LOVE to read that. For now, here's a taste of something that kind of checks all the boxes mentioned but at superspeed. If I could write a 20k fic on it, it probably would have A LOT more pining first. I'm a sucker for pining. I hope you love this little thing! - Mickala ❤️

------------------------------------------------------------

Steve was giving off vibes, okay?

Like, major ones.

And Eddie was convinced he was imagining it or just trying to convince himself that something existed where it didn’t to make his chances higher.

When Robin came out, a small part of him believed that Steve had to be at least a little queer. Men didn’t just accept being turned down by someone they liked when they turned out to be a big old lesbian.

But when he casually asked Robin if Steve had ever been so inclined towards the same sex, she laughed hysterically and said Steve was as straight as they came, that she’d never met anyone as straight as him, and that she’d probably end up with a man before he did.

So he let it go.

But then he said stuff sometimes about actors or singers that just left Eddie’s brain a big pile of question marks.

Maybe Eddie just didn’t know how straight dudes talked about other dudes?

So he let that go too.

And then Steve was genuinely checking out a guy at the public pool. There was no other explanation for the way his eyes focused in on his ass and worked their way up his body, a nod of silent approval hidden to all but Eddie.

But he did the same exact thing to Robin when she came out of the changing room, and while he knew he had feelings for her a while ago, they were long gone.

“What was that all about?” Eddie gave in and asked when everyone else started walking to the steps to get in.

“What?”

“Checking Robin out.”

“What the hell? I wasn’t checking her out! I was making sure her bathing suit fit right. One of the things they taught in lifeguard classes was that a too big or too small bathing suit can kill you.”

“So you were just making sure it fit?”

“Yeah. I don’t want her to drown.”

Eddie sighed.

But he let it go.

He stopped hoping for the chance to be more than friends. He was fine with just being friends. More than fine. Great.

He got to enjoy having Steve as a friend.

He didn’t half ass anything.

If he said he was gonna hang out, he was ready to commit the entire day to making sure you had his attention.

If he had everyone over at his house for movie night, he had everyone’s favorite snacks ready to go.

If he was gonna join Eddie at the quarry and smoke and look at the stars, he was gonna do it while making Eddie fall in love with him.

It wasn’t fair.

But he tried to let it go.

It was one of those nights that he found out he didn’t have to let it go.

“You ever just wonder how you could have ever thought you were a different person?”

What? Okay, Steve was high. Past the silly kind and right into the too existential to make sense kind.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re sayin’, man.”

Steve giggled.

God, Eddie was fucking done for.

“It’s just that I thought I was straight for 17 years of my life. And then spent another two years trying to convince myself that I couldn’t be anything but straight. And then life smacked me with Robin and now you and it didn’t really leave me much room to argue.”

“What are you saying?”

“I mean, I’ve had a crush on you since. Well, definitely since you held a bottle to my throat, but probably before that. Like, way before that. Maybe your first senior year.”

Steve was high. He didn’t mean what he was saying, and even if somehow he did, it wasn’t fair to hold him to it. Being high was sometimes like being drunk: the words may be true, but the feelings may not stick around.

So Eddie took a deep breath, bit back the tears he could feel clinging to his eyes and the burn in his throat, and forced himself to change the subject.

It wasn’t fair, but when Steve let him change the subject easily, he let it go.

————-

It took three weeks for him to break.

He was with Steve at his house, waiting for the kids to show up for movie night. Steve was busy preparing homemade pizza because he thrived on being able to cook for everyone.

Eddie loved him so much.

He was staring. He knew he was.

But how could he not when Steve was in that stupid “Number One Dad” apron that Max got him last Christmas as a joke, but he’d sniffled and said thank you like it was the best gift he got in the world?

Steve was humming something, sliding the last pizza into the oven (pineapple and ham for El, Will, and Mike), when it all seemed to hit him.

Steve had come out to him, had admitted out loud that he wasn’t straight and that he’d had a crush on him for a long time.

Sure, he was high when he did, but he’d been high with Eddie lots of times and never given away any top secret personal information like that.

He’d wanted Eddie to make a move.

He was so stupid.

He stood abruptly, nearly banging his knee against the bar in the kitchen.

Steve looked over at him, brows furrowed in concern, lips pouting out unintentionally.

Eddie stalked over to him, not bothering to explain his theatrics. At this point, Steve should be used to them.

He stopped right in front of him, looking down at the suddenly nervous way Steve was holding himself.

He wasn’t letting it go this time.

He sure as shit wasn’t running. He didn’t do that anymore.

“You remember the quarry?”

“Like, in general…or…?”

“A few weeks ago you said something at the quarry.”

“Oh.” Steve looked down at the floor between them. “Yeah. It’s okay that you don’t feel the same. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”

There was no fucking way Eddie was letting him think he didn’t want him back.

He gripped his cheeks in his hands, palms tilting his face up so he could look into his eyes.

Steve was biting his lip so hard, it looked like it could start bleeding any moment.

Eddie brought his thumb over, pulling his lip from his teeth.

“How can I kiss you if you’re too busy eating your lip?”

Steve’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“Stevie. Did you mean it then?”

“Yeah, ‘course I did. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“Then I need to ask a favor.”

“Anything.”

Eddie wouldn’t let that go to his head. Not yet.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve’s responding smile lit up the room, more than the overhead lights, more than the actual sunlight streaming through the window.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Eddie leaned in as Steve did, their lips meeting in a light peck that quickly deepened, moans escaping their mouths at the same moment.

He let his hands slide down to Steve’s neck, his thumbs rubbing small circles as his tongue begged for entrance into his mouth.

Steve was sinking further against him, his heartbeat steady against Eddie’s chest.

“It’s about damn time. Honestly, I was starting to think I’d have to make Steve come out to you again.”

Robin’s voice shocked them apart, but when they realized who it was, they managed to fall back into each other.

Eddie’s arm slipped around Steve’s waist as Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“The kids will be inside in about 20 seconds so if you would prefer they don’t know what’s going on, you should wipe those lovesick looks off your faces and find a bubble of personal space.”

Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head before pulling away.

“Talk when the kids leave?”

“Yeah. But first,” Steve pulled Eddie in for one more quick kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, he was smirking. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“I don’t plan on letting you out of bed for the next 24 hours after the kids leave. We’ll at least get a good start on the catching up.”

Eddie threw a wink at Steve, ignoring Robin’s gagging noises, and sat back at the bar.

The kids came running in, circling Steve to hug him or ask him what dinner was and Eddie smiled to himself.

Robin nudged him after a few seconds.

“You’re both so hopeless.”

“Not anymore.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #coming out is sort of accidental but not really #like steve is high when he says it but would have told eddie anyway #mutual pining though this is all from eddie's POV #which is weird for me so hopefully it's okay #anon requests #requests #ficlet

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alienpossession · 1 year

Text

Part 3: Spread a Little Wider (Jeff)

Aiden decided that its best to continue the construction of the house to not raise any suspicion. So he, Ricardo and Max decided to stick around in the property to also ensure the safetiness of the rest of their being while instructing the rest of the workers to go back into their respective after-construction life. Of course Aiden cannot let them leave without a handful of souvenir from the extraterrestrial world, and when they are ready, he set those infected puppet to the outside world ready to wreck a little havoc to the rest of the human population

Jeff White sidelined by injury in his sophomore year of university and his career simply never returned after that. In order to keep up the study despite losing his football scholarship, he worked in construction owned by his father's friend. Too bad the place that simply became the source that continued his uni life also ended his life as he knew it when the alien goo infected him just a couple hours ago. Now, he's more than ready to make the rest of his college friends turned into the same cause as him with the little help of the things stored in his massive carry-on

He lived together with some friends that has been living with him since freshman year. The rule is for upperclassmen to no longer use dorm facilities and since Jeff is in his senior year, he's clearly not eligible for dorm any longer. But he and his dorm-mate and 2 juniors managed to rent a rather decent house fitting for 6 college kids who all love to workout and have frequent guests so they have no complaint whatsoever.

Trent just finished his classes late into the afternoon at 5 PM when he arrived in the house, but it seemed a little quiet, except for the lulling yet deep baritone voice of what he recognized as Jeff's voice coming from the kitchen. So Trent decided to swing by and take a peek on what his bro's doing before headed to his bedroom

"Hey bro, meal prep?"

"Oh hell yeah, you wanna come and have a taste?"

"Hmmm, I guess it's not gonna hurt,"

But Trent came for a little surprise as Jeff turned around and shown him a rather stuffed belly while smiling awkwardly

"Glad I could share this with you bro,"

And just like that, Jeff grabbed Trent's head and then lodged copious amount of black slime right into Trent's mouth. The junior year student couldn't put up a fight as he eventually overtaken by the invading goo that quickly gained control of his body.

After the sloppy takeover/kiss from Jeff, Trent simply swiped the goo around his lips with his hands and give it a lick

"Umh so nutritious. Okay, now this makes the two of us. Shall we wait for the others or should we search them and give them a little surprise?"

"Don't you have a party to attend?"

"Oh yeah, Phi Kappa Alpha. But it's still tomorrow though. It's daytime pool party,"

"And who said that they wouldn't have a pre-game tonight? You know how Pike rolled. Infect the brothers before tomorrow's party and I'll wait here to get the rest of the housemates,"

"Sick, I like it,"

"What the fuck you two been talking about?"

A sharp and slightly terrified looking sound comes from the front of the kitchen. It's Gary's voice, and beside him, is Jae, the other two housemates,"

Jeff and Trent glared at the two smaller yet still muscular guy and decided that play pretend won't cut it, so they just simply do a full-front attack to the two that tried to run the quickest they can to exit the house. But the alien enhanced Jeff's and Trent's already insane physicality and stamina and that left both Jae and Gary subdued in less than a minute. The two writhed on the floor fighting for their dear life when both Jeff and Trent simply smiled wickedly and opened their mouth to let black shiny goo sludged down from their mouth to fill and overrun Jae's and Gary's system. Not long after that, the two also taken over by the alien sludge

"We should clean up. My girlfriend is coming,"

"And a nerd is going to tutor me,"

"Hm, the more the merrier. Okay then, Trent, change your clothes and go to Pike. Take control of as many frat boys as possible. You two take care of your own subjects and I'll handle the two housemates, sounds solid?"

"Totally,"

"Okay then, disperse,"

The alien inside Jeff runs the memory to really make sure what he spot in the human's memory was correct. And yeah, the two housemate left are two fucking muscle monster.

Well, he can certainly take them down, but this might be the toughest battle he will have to face so far

***

Meanwhile, 10 minutes later, Trent is already standing outside Pike, ready to spread out a little blessings to the blissfully unaware frat bros of Phi Kappa Alpha

#alien possession #male possession #jock possession

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waitmyturtles · 8 months

Text

Okie-dokes: I'm very late to reporting on Dangerous Romance, episode 3, and listen -- listen. A lot of you know I'm in a compromised life state at the moment, --

(I'M MOVING. HOW. IN THE HELL. DO I OWN. SO MUCH. JUST. FUCKING SHIT. HOW DID I FIT SO MUCH SHIT INTO THIS PLACE THAT I AM LEAVING. OH MY GODDAMN WHAT THE FUCK. LET ME BECOME A MONK AND GIVE UP ALL THIS CRAP.)

-- yes, compromised life state, lol, and can't give too much thought to good meta at the moment. (I had to pause Not Me for the Old GMMTV Challenge because even just three episodes in, I knew it was SO GOOD that it deserves my undivided attention.)

So, yeah, brain is out of service at the moment, and then we have THIS episode of Dangerous Romance, and let me just note: y'all, Dangerous Romance was trending on Tumblr even through Only Friends Saturday last weekend (with Only Friends NOT trending, mind you). DR is clearly serving something (.....sigh, ships) that OF is not giving the fandom girlies, and man, did DR just lay it on THICK this week, huh?

I will admit. I'm a touch bummed. I LOVE PERTH AND CHIMON. I LOOOOOVVVVE THEM, YER HONORESSES! UNABASHEDLY. Yes, I love their faces. I DO, NO SHAME. I love their acting, too! I love them, like ::waves hands in circles:: all of it, all of them. I was hoping they'd chomp into a meatier show.

This is not that show. The puppy music, the reeeeeally fast swings into sympathy and "oh, you're my tutor now, bro, and I will spill all my feelings to you," IN ENGLISH AND KOREAN -- and just a touch of a class division conversation by way of Kang homey buying Sailom homey an extra dinner to-go. Sailom is now Kang's... confidante? Kang wants to make someone, anyone, proud, and it looks like Sailom is the guy.

I mean, this episode was all over the place, but....

Forgive me, meta angels, because this is EXACTLY what I need right now, omg. I'm mentally done, I'm toast! Not to say that I'm not going to enjoy Only Friends tomorrow! I am going to totally eat OF up.

But I will ROBUSTLY ADMIT to ALSO being okay with PerthChimon fan service at the moment. Unfortunately for any of my hopes of them being in a more dramatically complicated series: they still have hilarious chemistry. They're actual real bros in real life (Papang smh lol). They're clearly having fun doing this together, like OhmPerth in Double Savage. Chimon's facial expressions are outta control (that look on his face when Perth/Kang accelerated the bike? I cackled).

This is fluff! As @lurkingshan noted -- a recalibration of expectations is in order for this show. I'm taking this show right now as 100% fan service from my PerthChimon wub woobies. Perth and Chimon (and really, the co-director of this show, Lit Phadung of SOTUS and SOTUS S) -- these dudes know the score. Perth and Chimon have been around for a minute. You need two dudes to dial up to 10 on fluff BL? They have those tropes so memorized that it's burned in their bones. Put 'em in coach, they're ready to play.

If I take this show on THAT tip, then -- as an aiming-to-be-classic romance BL, then it's doing something.... if not right, then at least aligned to some tropes simply by mood. I'm curious about Sailom's flashbacks to Kang's bullying, but I don't have the strength or mindpower to read into it. If a reference back to the bullying comes -- or not -- then, whatever. This show is clearly, at the moment, trying to achieve a more simple goal than I expected of it, but I'm not gonna write it off. I'll thoroughly enjoy Perth and Chimon being poodles to each other -- gimme.

I was wondering to @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm earlier today that I had previously wondered WHY GMMTV would air Dangerous Romance during the Only Friends run, especially with ALL the marketing hype around Only Friends before it premiered. At the time, it seemed to me to be a pre-emptive gong strike on Dangerous Romance. Now it makes me wonder -- did GMMTV want to cover its bases by placing a classic fluff BL on air, to protect the network from losing fandom points through Only Friends? I can only wonder. If some ships are exploding through OF -- then the network can hand PerthChimon over and say, hey, we haven't forgotten our shipping roots, girlies.

Kinda makes me think. In any case -- Shan is right. I'm recalibrated on Dangerous Romance, I'm watching this literally to see PerthChimon ham it up, annnnnddd yeah, that's about it! At this point, give me the make-out sessions, give me pool time, gimme. I unabashedly stan and simp. If we get some real drama out of this show -- it will be a wonderful surprise. I just hope the show doesn't veer into totally unwatchable territory.

#dangerous romance #dangerous romance the series #dangerous romance meta #perthchimon #kang x sailom #sailon x kang #perth tanapon #chimon wachirawit #i'm on my 100th rewatch of until we meet again at the moment and really loving the little perth bits too #so perth and chimon are my stress woobies huh #i wouldn't have called that #but life throws you curves i guess #i want a PURE comedy BL from thailand #just pure straight comedy #if they turned this show into comedy with perthchimon as leads i think it'd be golden

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pochipop · 2 years

Text

＃BNHA !! ♡ — CONFESSING TO YOU.

#. synopsis! — they confess to you after realizing how hard they've fallen following your killer performance at the ua sports festival .

#. characters! —bakugo, kaminari, todoroki .

#. warnings! — none .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. part I! — you can find the prerequisite fic: here .

𖦹. ━ BAKUGO !!

Classwork has really gotten interesting lately. Not because you and your peers are reading anything special, —but because the physical aspects have been amplified in order to prepare for the future. At the start of it all, you weren't sure UA was a good fit for you, nonetheless that Class 1A was a suitable starting point. But you quickly fell into the swing of things, and you fought hard to make a name for yourself in spite of any obstacles. As you built your confidence, a certain hot-tempered someone took notice, although he's hard pressed to admit it.

Even now with this haphazard plan jumbling around in his brain, he's not so sure this is the right way to go about things. But Bakugo knows that if he doesn't do it now, he might never do it at all. And if he's being honest, that part might frazzle him more than the thought of rejection. At the very least, he thinks you should know that. . . That he feels something for you, whatever the hell you wanna call it. He's tired of keeping it inside. Katsuki, of all people, is anything but used to shying away from his opinions, —and this one has been plaguing him for way too long.

"Hey, y/n!" He calls over to you.

You follow through with the punch you're landing on the training bag before turning to him.

"Yeah?" You ask, arms dropping to your side with a distant ache.

It's so commonplace by now that your brain hardly registers anything at all.

"We need to talk," Bakugo states, leaving little room for questions.

You can't say you're devoid of nerves, but he's been quite nice to you recently, so they've tempered off quite a lot. When you think back on it, you don't really know if he was ever mean to you personally. For the most part, he's always been. . . Nice? It's a word you struggle to connect with him due to his aggressive personality, but it seems to be the one that suits this scenario the best. His kindness has never been overt, but asking to spar with you might just be the biggest compliment someone like Bakugo can give. It means he sees you as someone capable of challenging him, and considering he thinks quite highly of himself, that's saying quite a bit.

"Oh?" You tilt your head to the side in confusion, "Is everything okay?"

His cheeks puff out for a moment or two before he responds.

Ah. . . That was cute.

"I don't really know how to say it," he acknowledges, "so just. . . Just listen until I'm done."

The please he tacks on softly at the end is almost too soft for you to hear. You'd even call it desperate.

"Your performance at the Sports Festival was. . ." He pauses, searching for the right words.

"It was really good," Katsuki settles.

Now that he's thinking about it critically, it was there that he solidified his feelings, whether passively or otherwise. It was there that he felt his heart swell with pride for you, —much to his own bewilderment. He felt prouder of you than he did of himself, despite having won the entire thing. When he thinks back on that day, he feels slivers of anger, but the memories of watching you dominate in the first round from the bleachers really set him on fire. It soothes that ball of complete and utter rage inside of him, if only for a moment. It tempers him out for the first time in a long while, eases that ache inside that he tries his best to stuff down and ignore.

An ache that derives from his secret worry that he might never be enough.

"Oh, you think so?" You smile softly, and he feels himself melt a little, lips pulling upward before he can think twice about it.

"That means a lot, especially coming from the one who won the whole thing," you add.

"Winning isn't everything," he replies quickly.

Too quickly to filter his sentiments. Winning has always been important to him, —it's established him as a top contender for all areas of his life. It's been the thing he's fallen back on time and time again. No matter what anyone has ever said, Katsuki is a winner. He's the best.

But even when he wins, something inside always yearns for more. And sometimes it's more than he fears he could ever achieve. More than he could ever be.

"I didn't think you'd say something like that," you acknowledge, "—but I agree. And not just because I lost."

"It's still important to win, of course," he attempts to fix the mask that's slipped, —even now,— "but you did well, even if you lost. And that's good too."

"But not good enough?" You muse, half jokingly.

It goes over his head, to say the least.

"It's good enough," Bakugo says, tone low and firm.

It carries his characteristic bluntness, but lacks the aggression. There's something there that you can't quite place. . . Something you're not sure you're at liberty to ask about, not that you'd really know how in the first place.

"You're good enough."

His words take you aback. It's unlike him to say something so seemingly sentimental. Even so, you're left to wonder if he was saying that to you because he wanted you to say it back. Maybe he was talking to himself here as well.

Before you have the chance to say anything, he speaks again.

"I like you. I don't really know why, so don't go asking for details, —I just do. There's probably a lot of reasons, but I don't know how to say them, so just take it for what it is."

Take me for what I am. For what I'm yet to be as well.

You pause for a few seconds to process everything that's been thrown at you. You know you can't leave him hanging here, especially not after that. On the surface, you like Bakugo. He's a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but he's got his own ways of expressing gratitude and caring for those around him. He's got his own way of giving people compliments, —and he's way outside of his comfort zone right now. That much is obvious.

"Are you hungry?" You ask him, smiling gently.

He looks confused, but simply answers in spite of it.

"Kind of."

"Let's go get some dinner together, then," you suggest. "My treat."

He doesn't really get it, but if you're asking to spend time with him he figures that's not a rejection. Dinner together will give the both of you time to talk, —time to learn more about each other. After that, maybe those disjointed feelings of his will piece themselves together a little more.

Until then, you'll just enjoy his company. He's not a bad conversationalist once you get to know him.

𖦹. ━ KAMINARI !!

Kaminari is a wreck. The closer he gets to you, the more his heart pounds, and he's convinced himself that you can hear it no matter the physical distance between the two of you. These feelings are scary and they make him want to run away from it all, so far that he loses sight of them somewhere.

He asks Mina for advice, but that doesn't quite go as planned. She tries to take over, —tells him he should throw some kind of party and convince you to come so he can ask you to dance with him when a slow song plays.

"Then you'll confess, and by the time you do, y/n will have totally already fallen for you!"

Denki's not so sure about that. He's also nowhere near confident enough in his own dancing abilities to hinge his entire plan on them. Not to mention the fact that, while he can be oblivious to things, he caught on quickly enough that Mina just really wanted a reason to throw a party.

Count Kaminari out for that idea.

He turns to the internet next: a place of vast ideas. He considers buying you chocolate in one of those big, fancy, heart-shaped boxes; but Valentine's Day has already passed for the year, making those much harder to come by. Not to mention that he was far too nervous to ask about your preferences, —because what if you immediately realized what he was planning on doing? What if you rejected him right there before he really had the chance to properly confess?

Kaminari doubts you'd do anything of the sort, and even if you did, he knows it would be put gently, but his fear of humiliation wins out on that one.

No big, elaborate party to slow dance at. And no chocolate.

Flowers then? Everyone likes flowers, right? Everyone except for Bakugo, maybe, Denki notes. That might not even be true, but he has a certain hunch, —not that he plans on asking his easily agitated friend about that anytime soon.

Still, Kaminari ventures to the nearest flower shop one afternoon and asks one of the workers there for some help. They give him a variety of options: —red roses are classic, but in recent years, people have been giving their loved ones roses in their favorite colors instead. The yellow ones are bright and pretty, but the blue ones seem so elegant and refined. And that's simply one type of flower alone! There's tulips, which seem a little more playful but are still beautiful and smell so sweet, peonies, daisies that range in sunset colors, even sunflowers. . .

In the end, he leaves with nothing, feeling lost and confused. He considers other options over the following days as well.

Maybe he could have Sato bake you something? But what if he picks the wrong flavor, just like with the chocolate?

Scratch that, —maybe a teddy bear will do the trick! But what if you'd prefer something different, like a rabbit, or even a unicorn.

No teddy bear. Jewelry? Something handmade? Fancy skincare products?

By the end of the week, Denki has a trashcan full of crumpled papers, all discarded ideas that he found something wrong with. If only he put this much effort into his school assignments. . .

A comment from some random person on an anonymous message board is the one to seal the deal. When he asks what he should do, they respond by telling him "not to be a chicken, just do it lol."

Just do it?

Somehow he'd never really considered that as an option. . .

You're shocked to find a note slipped inside your desk on Monday morning. It doesn't have a name, but it asks you to meet the author of it at a park nearby after school, —in the little garden city officials planted a few springs ago, and now pay people to upkeep in the warmer months. You do as asked, but are cautious. It's daytime, there are many people around, and you have your cellphone on you just in case of an emergency. Better to be safe than sorry!

"Kaminari?" You question upon your arrival.

The poor boy nearly trips over himself spinning around toward you. He'd expected you to come from the other direction. . .

"Y/n, —hi," he manages to say without fumbling for words. "Nice day, huh?"

"Um, yeah! I heard it was supposed to rain, but I'm glad it didn't. I'd have gotten soaked on the way here, —I completely forgot my umbrella back at the dorms," you admit.

I didn't even consider the weather, he thinks. Ugh.

"Anyway, were you the one that wrote this?" You ask, holding up the note between two of your fingers.

"Yeah," he nods, nervousness practically seeping from every pore on his body. "I. . . I have something to tell you, and I didn't know where else we could go, so I thought this might be the best bet."

And I wrote the note because I was still worried about rejection, and wanted to hold onto the idea that it could work for just a while longer.

"Well, I'm all ears," you say softly.

His heart is pumping so loud he's afraid it might burst, but he forces his lips apart to speak.

"I have feelings for you," Denki says, catching you by surprise.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

His edges soften when you crack a bashful smile.

"Yeah," you nod, "I'd like that."

He's too elated by your response to grieve all the hours he spent contemplating it. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until it all came spilling out in a relieved sigh.

Thank you, anonymous message board user!

"Oh! And before I forget, —what do you think about all these flowers?"

𖦹. ━ TODOROKI !!

Overall, Todoroki considers himself to be someone who has pretty good control over his emotions. Sure, that might stem from his rough childhood where he was forced to swallow down his feelings to please others, —but in the end, he's learned to regulate himself quite well, for better or worse.

Even so, you've spun him out. He's floundering, despite hiding it like a master magician. He can keep all of it locked away inside, push it down until it's almost out of sight and out of mind, but it creeps back up to the forefront every chance it gets. It's keeping him awake. And he's almost ashamed to admit it, as someone who's been fairly soured on the idea of "true love," —whatever that's supposed to feel like. He acknowledges that he's both young and inexperienced, but can't shake the thought of you.

Shoto doesn't want to let anyone down. Not even those he's come to resent. After all his hard work, he thinks it would likely be a waste to give it all up now. . . But is that really what would happen if he acknowledged his own feelings? Is the forming of bonds really something that makes you weaker?

Or is that just another residual piece of his father talking from inside him?

"Todoroki," Midoriya nudges the split-haired boy, bringing him out of his thoughts.

He blinks himself back to reality.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"Y/n's looking for you," Izuku repeats, "not sure why though."

"Oh. . . Okay, thanks," Shoto stands, "—where should I go?"

"School gates, probably!"

Todoroki thanks his friend again before rushing off. He's not sure why he's going so fast, it's not like he won't have the opportunity to speak with you at another point if he happens to miss you this time, but. . .

The truth is that he wants to see you. He wants to test things. He wants to pull away from whatever strings his father still holds over him. Shoto would rather hand them over to you.

"Todoroki!" You call out as soon as you see him, "there you are!"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm a little out of it today," he admits. "Do you need something?"

"Nothing in particular," you shake your head, "I just wanna talk, is all. You seem a little. . . Dejected lately."

You noticed? Nobody else had, as far as he was aware. If they had, they hadn't brought it to his attention, nonetheless taken the time to speak with him about it. He's almost ashamed to have let you see him in that state, —but more than that, he's glad someone has cared enough to ask.

The Sports Festival was hard for him; not because he lost, but because he was forced to reconcile with many different aspects of himself that he wasn't sure he was ready to face so adamantly. Still, he gets the feeling that whatever he says, you won't judge him for it, and definitely won't repeat it to anyone.

"I've had a lot on my mind since the Sports Festival," he sighs. "I don't know that I'm ready to get into it, even with myself."

"You don't have to," you assure him quickly. "Even if you never tell me anything, that's okay. I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. I also. . . Just wanted to make sure you knew that I'd be here if you ever need someone to talk to."

To act on these feelings. . . Would that be wrong?

Todoroki smiles softly.

Bonds. . . Can also make you stronger, I believe.

"I appreciate that," he tells you. "Really. The way you care for people is admirable. I think it's one of the reasons I like you so much."

I am allowed to be honest with my feelings.

That takes you by surprise.

"Speaking of that, since school is over. . . Would you like to go get ice cream, or something? Just the two of us?"

This is not a sign of weakness.

"Y-Yeah!" You nod quickly, heart skipping a beat. "I know a place just a few minutes away!"

"Great," Shoto nods, relishing in the warm feeling that bubbles up from inside. "Lead the way."

This is a sign of strength.

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