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#they follow orders and do their job alright
squoxle · 17 hours
Note
Hi ! Could you write something where like y/n is sucking or playing with heeseungs dick & she just got her fresh nails done and they’re pretty and EVERHTING & she poses with heeseungs dick and adds a bow …
(Sorry for taking so long to respond to your request)
French Tip ~ L. HS
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pairing: sugar-daddy!bf!heeseung x babygirl!gf!reader| wc: 1.3k | plot: after getting your nails done, you're excited to show Heeseung your fresh, new set. | cw: 🔞MDNI!! blow job, boob job, hand job, basically touching his dick in every way possible and snapping a few pictures lol bc why tf not (there're also a few cute moments hehe)
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Having your boyfriend pay for your nails was nothing out of the ordinary to you. He did this almost every week, or whenever else he thought they should be done.
Sometimes you would ask for his input, but today was not one of those days. You wanted to surprise him with a fresh, natural-looking set.
French Tips...
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"When you finish getting your nails done, send me a pic. I wanna see what they look like," he said before kissing you on the cheek. You could still smell the scent of coffee from this morning in the air.
That alone was addicting enough, but when the scent of his Channel cologne was mixed in only one thing was on your mind. And that was getting back in bed with him. Or at least pleasing him while he tells you how pretty you look.
"Okay," you smiled softly as you looked into his sweet doe eyes. You pulled the gold chain of your black clutch bag over your shoulder as you headed out the door.
You would've loved for him to take you to your nail appointment today, but he had some business to take care of at home. To be specific, he had a very important meeting over Zoom with a few of his colleagues concerning a very important business deal, which he made crystal clear to you the day before.
Before heading to your appointment, you stopped to place an order for some desserts. Heeseung planned to have a business party next week and he left you in charge of the food.
"Why do you want me to do it? Can't you just hire someone else to take care of this," you asked, not because you had a problem with it, more so for the reason that you were honestly curious.
"Well, you have good taste," he smiled.
"Mhm, sure I do."
"Well, that and you taste good," he smirked, pulling you close to flick his tongue across your lips.
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You took a sip from your water bottle as you walked into the beauty salon. "Good morning, Dear. Are you here for your 9 o'clock appointment?" Mrs. Yanez asked from behind the desk.
"Yes, ma'am," you smiled.
"Alright, I'm just gonna log you in," she said as she clacked away at her keyboard. "Do you know what you want to do today?"
"Yes, I'll need a full, fresh set along with a mani-pedi."
"Did you want a massage as well?"
"No, that's alright."
"You sure, it's 30 percent off today. Plus you've accumulated a total of 1500 pretty points with us."
"Hmm, well I'll definitely use those points another day," you smiled. "And as much as I would love a discounted massage, I kinda wanna get back home a little early today."
"Ooh, Mr. Lee must be home today," she teased.
"Yes, he is," you chuckled.
"Well, then I won't keep you waiting any longer," she smiled before pushing a small black button. She often reminded you of the tía-sobrina relationship you never had. You could talk to her about anything, and trust me...she wanted to hear it.
"Right this way, Miss," a masked employee nodded as you followed her to the back. You giggled as Mrs. Yanez playfully waved to you with a smirk on her face.
You sat down in a soft leather chair as you explained what look you were going for today. "I would like a natural-looking set. Almost like French tips, but with natural shades."
"So no white tip?"
"Well white like the color of my natural nails," you explained pointing to the whites of your nails.
"Okay, perfect. I can do that for you. Gloss or not gloss?"
"Gloss," you smiled, as the lady turned around to pick from the colors on her shelf. A nude color, an off-white color, and a pale yellow--which she mixed with the white to match the natural color of your nails.
Having a custom color mixed made your nails feel pretty unique. Plus, this was a style you never tried before, so you were excited to see how they'd come out.
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After about 45 minutes you were ready to go. Two people ended up working on you which sped up the process.
"Tell Heeseung I said hello," Mrs. Yanez smiled as you walked out.
"I will," you chuckled as she waved to you.
You climbed into your car before heading over to a nearby boba shop to pick up some drinks. Matcha for you and brown sugar for him. You liked extra boba and he liked extra syrup. These were little details you could never forget.
*Click* you snapped a shot of you holding the brown sugar boba because it looked better with your nails, even though it was for Heeseung.
Within seconds he opened the message and hearted the pic you sent. "They look nice, babe," he texted. You were surprised he even said that much.
"Maybe his meeting hasn't started yet. Or maybe they canceled it," you thought to yourself. Either way, you couldn't wait to get back home.
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"Heeseung?" you called out as you stepped out of your shoes. Your car keys, clutch bag, and phone balanced between your fingers as you carried both of the drinks over to the counter. You had drunk about a fourth of your by the time you made it home.
You placed yours on the counter as you walked into his home office.
You knocked softly as you opened the door. Heeseung didn’t say a single word, but the look on his face told you everything. “I’m a little busy right now, babe. You can come back later, okay.”
You paused in both shock and embarrassment for a moment before a cheeky smirk appeared on your face. You closed the door behind you before walking over to his desk.
He was trying his best not to look at you, but you could tell he wanted to.
You placed his drink on the desk next to him before crawling under the desk. As professional as Heeseung tried to be at times, he loved wearing his sweat pants and you liked them too.
They were comfortable and made pulling his dick out so much easier.
You fiddled around with his drawstring causing him to wiggle a bit from your touch before you managed to get his dick out. You felt him harden between your palms as you stroked him up and down. That's when an idea popped into your head.
You pulled your phone out and snapped a shot of his tip against your tongue. You placed your phone down beside you as you began to suck him off. You felt him lean forward slightly, trying his best to contain his excitement.
You kissed the head of his dick to give him a chance to readjust himself. You could hear the voices of his colleagues coming from his computer as you continued to suck him off. You pulled back to unbutton your blouse using your tits to take the place of your hands as you jerked him off.
*Click* you took another pic of his dick nestled in between your tits.
You traced your tongue up the length of his shaft before taking it back in your mouth. It wasn't long before you heard him getting ready to end the call.
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You looked up at him from under the desk. "Couldn't wait until after my meeting," he asked with a smirk.
You shook your head no as you continued to bob your head on his cock.
"Did you at least enjoy yourself?"
"Hmm...almost. I still feel like I'm missing a little something."
"And what would that be?" he asked cheekily, though he was fully aware of what you wanted...especially after you opened your mouth to tap his tip on your tongue.
He grabbed your head, shoving it down as he pumped himself into your mouth. Just as he was getting ready to cum he pulled your head back to coat your tongue.
*Click* He took a photo of your sitting between his legs with his cum all over your tongue and a dazed look on your face.
He paused to tap away at his phone before sending a pic of you with a bow edited on your head looking completely cum drunk.
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❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
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❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmo
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Reveal: android!reader x Kyle Gaz Garrick
Gaz tried to catch you before you fell but just barely missed you. The shock from your sudden fall completely blocked out the loud bang that followed when you face planted onto the floor.
"Oh, fuck." He quickly kneeled down beside you before he yelled out. "Someone get medical!"
He gently grabbed your shoulders to turn you on your back when he saw a blinking red light in the center of your back. His eyebrows knitted together but he elected to ignore it for the time being in favor of helping you.
When he laid you on your back he checked your pulse and his mouth went dry. There was no pulse. A pit formed in his stomach and he immediately got his emotions under control as he went to give you CPR.
However, just as he placed his hands on your chest, your eyes, or rather one eye, opened and you sat up in a flash.
Gaz stared at you with shock and confusion the same way your eye widened as you stared back.
"I have to go-"
"No, you need medical attention."
He tried to get you to lay back down by placing his hands on your shoulders so you didn't give yourself any worse brain damage than you probably had.
You overpowered him easily and were up on your feet without issue. You swiftly walked back to your office while he sat there dumbfounded.
He wasn't sure how you were up and walking after smacking your head so hard. It had to be adrenaline, but if there was anything he knew about it was that it would wear off eventually and soon you'd have to face the consequences.
Gaz shot up and raced after you.
"We have to check to make sure you're alright." He argued and couldn't help but worry that maybe you were trying to save face because of how anxious you were. "You don't need to act tough-"
"The medics are not equipped to fix me." You argued back and he shook his head.
"Trust me, they've seen everything. I'll walk you there-"
"No."
His jaw clenched and he grabbed your arm to stop you. He held you firmly so you wouldn't escape him again but made sure not to squeeze when he felt you tense up.
He gave you a stern look, one that hid his worry before he spoke.
"I know we don't know each other that much but I'm not going to let you make yourself worse. You need help." He hoped that if he insisted enough you'd listen.
He couldn't live with himself if he was the reason you ended up dead.
You looked deep in thought while you stared at him with one eye which made the queasiness in his stomach much worse. You seemed to think for a long moment before you blinked at him.
"I'm an android."
Gaz's eyebrows knitted together and he gave you an incredulous look. He to get you medical attention because you had to have brain damage.
"Look, let's just get you to the infirmary-"
"I was made to be the best data analyst and intelligence library for the military specifically for the 141. My purpose is to make perfect plans and to make your job easier so you succeed at the assignments given to you." You explain but he stared at you as if you had grown three heads. "I will demonstrate my capabilities for you."
He didn't know what to do or think as you broke out of his grasp and walked into your office. He had no choice but to follow you even if he thought you sounded crazy, but he hoped that maybe if he went along with whatever you had planned, he could take you to get help after.
The blinking red light was gone from your back but before he could even question it, you plugged yourself into your laptop and his mouth went agape.
It was impossible. It had to be, you looked completely human and yet your finger was open as mechanical steel and wiring. There were so many questions but he didn't know where to start.
It explained your behavior at least.
"My identity was confidential in order to avoid potential threats such as corrupt data or attempted theft." You explained further and he nodded slowly.
"Did corrupted data cause you to...faint back there?" He sat close to you and still couldn't help but stare at your closed eye.
Did it hurt...well no it didn't. At least, not in the same way it would hurt for him he guess."
"My data has been scrubbed since your accident. After the visit to the pub, my processors began to overload and once it became too much, I was forced into a shutdown to save any of my hardware from frying."
Gaz hummed.
"What's causing it then?" He wondered and you stared at him with that blank look of yours.
Lifeless. Of course, it made sense now.
"You." You said and he scoffed, thinking you were joking for just a moment before he realized that you couldn't. "With the data I've collected about the situation, my processors began to overheat and overload because of you."
He gave you an apologetic and sheepish smile. It's not that he could've known yet he still couldn't help but feel bad since he had inadvertently hurt you...damaged you.
"Sorry about that."
"Your compassionate nature has an unexpected affect on my processors. In fact, it was unexpected that any of you would try to make a connection with me."
A smile tugged on the corner of his lips and he gave you a fond look.
"Are you sure you're not feeling?" He asked and you titled your head.
You blinked a couple times, looking as confused as you could be as something that couldn't have feelings.
Or at the very least, shouldn't.
"I'm incapable of having feelings." You told him but he shrugged.
"Can't rule anything out right now." He said and you looked away from him.
"It doesn't matter. I will contact my engineers about this error so they can remove me and deactivate me to avoid further complications."
Gaz's eyes widened and he shook his head. A strong feeling came over him, one that made him go serious in an instant. He didn't want that, not when he still wanted to get to know you.
"You can still do your job despite you feeling." He argued and your eyebrows knitted together. "We have feelings and we still do bloody good job at what we do."
"But I'm not built for feelings..." You trailed off and looked confused. "And you know I'm an android."
"And that's cool."
You blinked a couple times and got the same look on your face before you fainted. He quickly placed a steady hand on your shoulder to make sure you wouldn't faint again before you looked deep into his eyes.
"If I don't tell them, there could be a lot of risk. It'd be a violation." You said but he smiled.
"Sometimes you have to break a few rules to get the job done." He explained and you titled your head.
"You and Captain Price are alike."
"Learned from the best."
You looked deep in thought and glanced at his hand, causing him to retract it quickly. You looked at him, an unreadable expression across your face that was partly due to you being an android but partly due to the fact that everything seemed to be new to you.
You touched your eye.
"What should I do about my eye?" You wondered expectantly.
"Tell them someone hit you." He suggested and you raised an eyebrow. "And hope they won't ask any other questions."
"I should...lie?"
Gaz nodded with a smile. It was the only way to keep you here but he was hoping that maybe if you did, something good would come from it instead of you fainting again.
He hoped that maybe you'd get used to feeling.
There was a knock on your door and Price opened it with a worried look on his face. He looked between you and Gaz before he stepped in.
"Heard someone yell for medical, everything alright?"
Gaz glanced at you and you glanced at him. When you nodded, his smile grew wider and he looked back at Price.
"Need to catch you up on a few things, Cap."
A/n: i struggled with this for a while because i have no idea how to write someone having this revelation but here we are. Enjoy!
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youraverageaemondsimp · 9 months
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“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter!Reader // PART ONE.
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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! (+200 now) so here is the awaited fic, celebrating a milestone <3 based on this poll, dilf aemond won at the end haha 💞
MDNI
WARNINGS: unprotected p in v sex, dubcon(?), oral (both f and m.), blowjob, cum eating, cum play(?), breeding kink, multiple orgasms, age gap (9ish years), DILF aemond, single father aemond, power imbalance(?), throat fucking, cunnilingus, lots and lots of kissing, + not proofread
WC: 7.1k (yeah...)
« part two // 🎄 special »
Getting fired from your job while trying to pay rent and gathering tuition fees isn't exactly ideal, you wanted to pursue a bachelor's degree after high school, but you didn't have enough money, coming from a family that was barely held by, nor were you eligible to apply for student because there were legal issues.
You moved out of your parents not wanting to financially burden them anymore, renting a decent apartment with just enough space for you to call it a 'home' you've been working for the past 2 years, a decent paying job but it was enough to get by and save up on the fees too, everything seemed to be going perfect until you suddenly got fired and your landlord decided to increase the rent.
You knew you'd have to cut into your savings to pay rent now, but you didn't want that, you halfway there to your goal, you were expected to get promoted and get higher pay, you calculated it, that it would only take one more year for you get enough amount to pay for the first few sems, and then maybe you'll be able to apply for a student loan by then.
But fate had different plans, and here you were on your couch scrolling through multiple apps to find any type of job, extremely desperate.
And that's when you saw it.
“Babysitter needed.” you thought how perfect of a job it would be considering the degree you wanted to so badly was based in psychology, child psychology specifically, and interacting with kids will probably give you some type of experience?
You quickly clicked on it and found the contact number, and decided to call it, you bit your lips nervously hoping they'd pick up.
“Hello?” you heard a cool voice say which sent shivers down your spine.
“Hello- yes uhm, Hi! I am calling because I saw the post on the app that said you needed a babysitter for hire?” you stumble over your words and mentally facepalm yourself for it.
“Yes, indeed. Are you interested in applying?” he asks and you quickly reply with a yes.
“Do you have any prior experience?” he asks and you reply with a quick yes, you've babysat a few kids throughout your highschool era for quick cash, as a way to not rely on your parents for menial things.
“Mhm alright, I don't want to bring your hopes up by saying you got a job, I'd like to have a personal interview first, if you do not mind.” he says and you say, thanking him and he hangs up the call.
You were fucking shaking.
It felt like applying for the first job of your life all again, the nervousness, the anxiety, the everything.
Aemond had saved your phone number and sent it to his assistant, Floris, asking her to run a background check on you, and to see if you had any criminal background, he read your name on the file that got delivered to him, sipping on his coffee while he scanned through your details.
You just turned 21, recently.
‘So young’ he thought, ‘Let me guess, she's probably looking for jobs in order to afford education.’ he guessed and he was exactly on the money with that one.
He wasn't that old himself, barely 30
He inherited his father's business at just age 23, being the only one capable of handling such pressure, his elder siblings couldn't stand a chance against him, and since then, he's maintained the Targaryen name perfectly.
He remembers falling in love with a woman older than him, he was 24, she attended one of the business parties he dreaded going to, Alys rivers was her name, they dated for 2 years before deciding to pace things up and get engaged since everything was going perfect for both of them.
Until Alys got pregnant, Aemond was overjoyed when he heard that news, but he didn't know that the child would suck the life out of her.
She died giving birth to their son, and he was devastated, being heart broken by her death, however he never once blamed his child, it was their choice to birth him, and it failed miserably.
But 3 years had passed since her death and he had moved on from her death, ready to love once again, yet it was extremely hard to find someone that wasn't after his money.
He knew he couldn't just live in the misery of heartbreak, and Alys would've wanted him to move on too.
His son, Aenys, recently turned 3 too, he inherited Aemond's purple eyes and silver blonde hair, typical targ features, but he saw how the softness of his nose, sharpness of his eyes resembled his mother.
But back to you at hand, he went through all your papers deeming you fit for the interview, he called a day later telling you the address where the interview would be held, his office.
Yes, his fucking office, as if you were applying for a job at his company, he justified it by saying that you were technically his employee.
When you got out of the taxi and looked at the company in front of you, it finally clicked in your brain that your employee was none other than Aemond Targaryen, and it only made your anxiety worse.
You went to the receptionist and told her your name, and she typed it in, giving you a small smile, telling you that you were exactly on time. She called his office to tell you that you were here and led you to his office. You looked around and noticed how big this company was, a bunch of employees working in their cubicles, typing away.
“Mr. Targaryen?” she called out and you heard a small ‘come in.’ Before stepping inside and pushing the door open for you to enter, you did and she stepped outside, closing it gently behind you, leaving you alone in the room with the man.
Aemond hadn't looked up from his files until the door closed, and when he did, he felt his breath caught in his throat.
“You may sit.” he says and you nod, sitting across him on the opposite side of the table, you felt so small under his gaze, it was so intimidating but you put up with it.
He began the interview by asking questions about yourself, and all relevant things, but there was one question that caught you off guard.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and you furrow your brows, “Excuse me?” you question, noticing how odd of a question it is.
“Don't get me wrong, the previous babysitter had one, and she used to bring him to the apartment and…” he cleared his throat and you immediately caught on to what he was implying, “Oh! No! I do not have one, and even if I did I would not do that!” you reassure him and he gives you a nod.
He was fucking lying.
But you didn't know that.
The previous babysitter was an old lady, who Aenys liked a lot, but sadly she had to leave the city.
“I hope you know that you're expected to work full time? I leave for the office at 9AM and return back at 7PM, and you'll need to be ready to work those long hours, and sometimes I might not even return till late at night if there is extra work.” he says and you nod, and before the question can leave your mouth he cuts you off.
“Do not worry, you'll be paid for those extra hours.” he confirms and you nod smiling at him.
And then came your terms, which he agreed to, he made you sign a one year contract, and you did it without hesitation.
Frankly the pay was so high you would barely need to work 6 months to reach the full amount, but you still did an extra 6 months considering how having extra money at hand doesn't hurt.
And with a handshake, he accepted you.
You were practically going to spend most of your awake time with the kid, it sounds hectic but the pay was too good to pass up on, I mean, $80 per hour? fuck yes, you'd be having around $230k by the end of the contract. Aemond was filthy rich.
It was finally your day to go to his house and you already knew it was going to be big, but you were still shocked when you arrived to the destination, it was a 20 minute drive from your house, and it was located in the richest neighbourhood to exist in the city, you felt embarrassed getting out of your taxi at an area where everyone probably had their own cars, heck, a collection of them even, but you paid the fare and the guard got up to question you, you told him and he quickly nodded before letting you inside.
It was early in the morning, you came quickly so Aemond could show you around the house and introduce you to his kid, you stood there nervously as you rang the doorbell, Aemond had checked through the security camera before the door opened, revealing the house interior.
You quickly stepped in and he closed the door behind you. You expected him to have maids and a bunch of staff, but you were surprised when you found none. No wonder he asked if you can cook, you'd probably be doing all the work here besides the cleaning.
“Aenys is in his playroom, let me take you there.” he says cooly and you follow him, taking in your surroundings.
He opens the door to the playroom and you immediately find a kid, who you assumed to be older than 2, playing with his dragon toys, making rawr sounds, and yelling the word ‘dracarys.’ you smiled at the cuteness.
Aemond cleared his throat which caught the attention of Aenys and he smiled brightly before he jumped in his arms, “Papa!” he yelled, before he turned his attention to you and looked at his father in question
“Hey aeny, do you know how the previous babysitter had to leave town?” he asks gently and Aenys nods, “And papa needs to be away for work top right? So I got you a new babysitter who will take care of you.” he points towards you, explaining and Aenys looks at you tilting his head slightly
“Hey, Aenys.” you give him a small, waving your hand, he shyly waves back before he hides his face his fathers chest, you chuckle at the cuteness.
“I'll go give her a house tour okay? And then I will visit you once again before I leave, have fun darling.” He says and puts his son down, and Aenys looks at you once again, inspecting you, observing you, you smile at him once again, and this time he gives you a shy smile.
Aemond leaves the room and you wave a quick temporary goodbye to Aenys and follow him.
“Aenys, doesn't have a mother, or at least he had to grow up without one” Aemond randomly begins and you look at him confused. “My fiancee-” he sighs before halting his footsteps, “She- she had died while giving birth to him.” you watch as he takes deep breaths, “It's okay if you don't want to talk about it now, we have a lot of time anyway, just open up to me when you are ready, sir.” you tell him and he looks at you, giving you a nod and resumes the house tour.
It was fucking big.
Just like he said, he visited his son once more before leaving for work and the entire day you spent it with Aenys, getting to know him, observing his behaviour.
You noted that he was extremely shy at first but then he eventually warmed up to you, he still had his guard up of course since you were fairly new and a stranger in his life, you introduced yourself and he did the same.
He showed you all his toy collections, which you were genuinely fascinated by, he had so many dragon figurines and remembered each one by their name, his favourite was vhagar.
“It waass papa's once, when he was jus like mee.” he babbled cutely, the way he pronounced the words were so cute too, you swear you could die at it.
“Vhagar belonged to your papa?” you felt awkward saying the word papa, but you knew you had to considering that it was the term Aenys was used to, he nodded, smiling.
“Yesh! He gwave it to meh.” he says and you smile.
Aenys had quite a developed vocabulary for his age, though he pronunciation was a bit off, but you knew it would improve with time.
And just like that, you and Aenys grew close, he was always cheery to see you, you cooked and looked after him, feeding him vegetables in a way he would enjoy, and Aemond was surprised when he found out, considering Aenys refused to eat vegetables.
You put Aenys to sleep one day, singing him a lullaby and caressing his hair as he fell asleep in his bed, he watched you with big doe eyes, which were slowly beginning to get droopy as sleep overcame him. He closed his eyes and his brows were relaxed. You sat there for a while, watching him sleep, and you look at the time, 8PM, Aemond was running late, but you didn't mind, by the time he usually fell asleep, Aemond would've been there, listening to you sing to his son and when he finally fell asleep, you would leave, politely saying goodbye to Aemond, but this time you had stayed, since Aemond was late.
You noticed how Aenys eyebrows furrowed before you saw tears coat his eyelashes
“Mam… mama… I want mama...” he mumbled in his sleep and you swear you felt your heart wrench at that, then you heard small sniffles.
He was crying in his sleep.
Is this what usually happens after you leave? You felt extremely sad, you remember how Aemond had told you that Aenys grew up without a mother, how she had died during childbirth. You never really thought about it much but you realised how tough it must've been for Aenys, then suddenly you remembered all the times you played together or watched cartoons, how he would say the word "mother" longingly when he was referring to a mom dragon, or how he stared in a daze when a cartoon showed a mom taking care of his child.
He was beginning to notice an absence of a parental figure in his life.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sniffling getting louder, and Aenys was beginning to borderline cry out, you quickly picked him up and carried him, pacing around the room gently as you patted his back, his hand clung tightly onto the sleeve of your arm and he rested his cheek on your shoulder.
“Shhh, Aenys, it's okay.” you try consoling him but he kept repeating the words 'I want mama, mama.' in his sleep over and over again.
Not knowing what to do, you began to feel bad, so you did what you thought was the best.
“Aenys, Mama is here, it's okay hush now..” you coo gently into his ear and that's when he finally stops sniffling, 'mama?' he mumbles and you hum, “Yes, it's mama, do not cry anymore okay? Mama is here.” you caress his hair and he finally relaxes, you were so entranced in comforting him that your brain managed to ignore the presence of Aemond himself, who had arrived when you picked him up and paced around in a panic, he was going to interfere but then he heard you say those words.
You stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed him, heat climbing up your face as you realised he probably heard everything and also you were stricken with fear too cause you likely overstepped.
You gently placed Aenys down on the bed and got out of his room, anxiety coursing through your veins as you realised what you had done
But you were only trying to comfort him.
Aemond soon followed you out the room as well and you turned around to face him when he closed the door.
“I apologize— I'm so sorry—” you began.
“Don't. It's fine, I can understand why you did that.” he cuts you off, and you wince.
“He- he's been noticing.” you began and Aemond nodded, “I've noticed too.” he replies and sighs.
“Aenys has changed a lot since you've started babysitting him in a good way , and I've noticed it, he's becoming more and more aware of the world around him.” He moves to the living room, sitting on the couch and you do the same, sitting on the one opposite to him.
“I've made sure that he never felt a lack of anything in his life, but I guess it's only natural for a person to desire something he can't have.” he says.
“Aenys can have a mother, if you remarry, that void will be fulfilled somewhat.” you suggest and he looks at before chuckling “I've thought of that too, my mother said the same thing, but i cannot trust anyone, especially considering how many are after my money, who knows if they'll be kind to him, or whether Aenys will like them or not.” he sighs.
“That is true.” you agree with him and he looks at you.
“Unless… ” he begins, eye scanning your entire being and you look at him, your heartbeat quickening, just as he was about to say something, your phone rings and it cuts off the trance-like state you were in, and you look at it to see who it is.
It was a spam call.
But then your eyes bulge out of your sockets when you look at the time, “Holy shit it's late, I'm sorry sir but i have to leave now, or else it will be too dangerous.” you say and quickly apologise and he nods, dismissing you. That was the first night, sleep came to Aenys peacefully.
But it didn't to Aemond, he was lost in thought about everything, but then his mind wandered off to somewhere it shouldn't go.
The way you comforted Aenys stirred something inside you, the moment was perfect, you cooing in Aenys' ear that you were here, pretending to be his mother.
It was so perfect.
Almost as if you were made for that.
Aemond felt his heart flutter.
For the first time in years.
He couldn't help but accept the pull he felt towards you.
Aenys doesn't seem to remember the incident, probably cause he was literally just sleep talking so it was left at that, but you and Aemond however grew a bit close after that incident, he came back home early as he can, so he could spend time with his son and you, he was subconsciously trying to get his son used to both of them being around, both present in his life as parental figures.
You obviously weren't able to leave early just because he got home early because those were your mandatory hours, so it became your new normal to spend time with him and Aenys.
You couldn't deny that there was something definitely blooming in between you and Aemond, he would often throw appreciative comments in your way, which made your belly pool up with heat.
You noticed how he wanted to stay by your side, physical touch lingering, he had suggested that you 3 should go grocery shopping, and you found it odd considering he could literally order his clients to fetch them for him, but you agreed anyways, using it as a chance to get outside and let Aenys interact with other people. Aemond was heavily against sending him to the daycare, because he was scared for his son, it was understandable but it also set Aenys behind a bit.
“Mama, I want this!” you hear a kid yell at his mom and you watch as she refuses it gently, telling him no and that she will buy him the next time they come back here, and the kid just pouted, you chuckled at the sight.
You turned your attention to Aenys who was staring at the scene too, and you realised how he was in a daze once again as well, you looked at Aemond who also seemed to notice.
Aenys quickly ran in another direction and you panicked and almost ran after him before he was back in front of you again, grabbing the same toy the other child had grabbed earlier and showing it to you. “Ma-” he cut himself short before pushing the toy to show you “I want this!” he says and Aemond was confused at first and he was about to agree to buy that toy for Aenys until you butted in, “No Aenys, we can't buy it right now! We'll buy it next time when we come back here okay?” you say and he smiles sheepishly at you, before pretending to pout and put the toy back in a random shelf.
You chuckled at the childishness, he just wanted to feel the same type of experience that others do. Aemond knew it was just you both playing around, he didn't miss the way Aenys almost called you his mother, and it spurred him on further, the way you acted as a genuine mother.
Those type of random moments became often, and it pushed Aemond further and further to the edge, the way you would act like such a perfect mom made him want to bend you over any surface and fuck you, filling you up with his cum.
Aemond then suddenly started joining for lunch, he would usually eat at his office, but he made extra effort to drive home so he could eat with his 'family.' He loved your cooking, you made it taste like home, he would watch as you cut smaller pieces of fruits and vegetables for Aenys so he could properly chew and eat. He imagined how perfect you would be as his wife and like an official mother to his child, or better, children, all of these small things were pushing him to the edge
And soon it would push him off it.
Aemond cursed himself when he drove through the rain, already running late, he looked at his watch and read the time, it was 10PM, the meeting in the afternoon stretched over two hours long which set back the rest of his schedule by a lot, he quickly parked his hair before making his way inside his house, open the door with the extra key carried before shutting it close.
“Look Aenys! Dada's here.” he heard you say and he was immediately spun around, he didn't expect you to stick around this long, but then he realised it was raining heavily and you always went by taxi, there probably would've been no taxi available in this weather.
“Aenys didn't go to sleep yet?” he asks, undoing the suit he was wearing before throwing it on the couch, approaching both of you, taking Aenys into his arms.
“He wanted to wait until you got home, he was worried for you, though he seems tired hmm.” you pinch his nose playfully and he scrunches it up, “I'm not twired…” he says but then yawns earning a chuckle from both you and Aemond.
“I'll put him to sleep, you go freshen up.” you say and Aemond nods, giving him back to you.
Fuck everything about that interaction felt too domestic.
And Aemond had lost his resolve.
He found you sitting on the couch, scrolling through something, he sat down next to you.
“What are you doing?” he asks and you look at him, “Trying to book cabs, but there are none available at the moment due to the weather.” you sigh before placing your phone down.
Aemond should've offered to drive you home but instead he offered to let you stay.
“You know you can stay over, I do not mind it.” he says and you look at him “Really? I don't wanna be a bother—”
“Oh please, you are never a bother.” he cuts you off and smiles at you. “You should freshen up for the night, you've been here since morning.” he says but you pout. “I do not have any clothes.” you say and he simply shrugs, “You can wear mine.” he pushes the buttons, wondering how far he can get away with it, he knew offering you to let you stay at his house already broke the employee boss relationship, hell, the moment he desired you was when it already broke.
“Mhm okay! Where is the guest bathroom?” you ask and he shakes his head, “The water heater is broken in that one, it's better if you use the attached bathroom in my room.” he says.
The water heater wasn't broken.
He was lying.
And you believed him.
He watched as you got up and made your way to his room, which was right next to Aenys', considering he has to react if something happens to him, he followed you inside opening the cupboards and giving you his hoodie and fresh pair of boxers which you thanked him for.
He left the room to give you privacy, but oh gods his mind was racing with all the thoughts.
He paced around, trying to contain himself, and he stood there in front of the door.
And then you opened it.
His hoodie reached to your thighs, and you looked at him, shocked to find him in front of the door, lips parted.
He snapped.
He quickly pushed you inside and shut the door behind you, slamming his lips against yours, and kissed you fervent hunger, you stumbled back and you almost fell but he caught you by your waist and pushed deeper into the kiss, moving his lips hungrily against your.
He pulls away, silently giving you a way out if you need it.
You should refuse this.
You should push him away.
But you don't, instead you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a deeper kiss, he groans when he feels you kiss him back, he pulls away once again, before grabbing you by your arm and pushing you onto the bed, making you fall on your back, your hoodie rising up, revealing your stomach, which he kissed lovingly before he pulled the hoodie even more further up, exposing your tits and pressing kisses to the nipples, causing you to gasp.
He pulls the hoodie off of you completely, and you raise your hands to assist him, he pulls off his shirt too, exposing his naked chest, and you bite your lip at the view, next he takes the boxes off you, doing the same, leaving you both completely bare to the room.
He pushes you upwards to the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your face, neck, collar bones and valley between your breasts, his hands grab the flesh of your tits before he kneads them, massaging them, thumbs flicking the nipples making you arch your back.
One of his hands trails down to your core, dipping into the heat, he outright moans when he finds you practically leaking, collecting the arousal and bringing it upwards your bud. Rubbing small circles which makes you gasp.
He pulls his hand away and brings it up to lick at the wetness that has accumulated on the fingers, humming in satisfaction before he pressed kisses which travelled downwards until his mouth stopped right at your core, giving a small kiss to it to, you shivered when you felt his hot breath against it, the way the air he exhaled would hit your clit. He kissed the inner part of your thighs first, making you needy with want, wishing he'd just take you into his mouth.
And then he does, his tongue strides upwards from your opening to your clit, giving you one long lick before he captures your clit with his mouth, suckling on it, causing you moan his name loudly, both of his hands wrap around your thighs and he pulls them further apart, his fingers digging into the flesh as he hungrily devours your cunt, tongue flicking the bud constantly, you grip his hair and buck your hips, practically rutting against his face, you felt his tongue travelling down and lick at the wetness, the tip of his nose pushing against your clit, you felt your core tighten as the movement of his tongue sped up, causing you to topple over the edge and your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you whine loudly.
He greedily licked everything up before he placed wet kisses on your thighs, the residue of your wetness sticking to them before he sat back on his knees between your parted legs, you watched as he got up slightly, making his cock come into view.
Your eyes widened slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by Aemond, this stroked his ego very much.
He was big, bigger than any you've seen before, it was pale with a tip that was flushed pink due to the blood pumping, oozing precum out of it, he pumped his cock in his hand to ease the area, coating his dick in his own precum before he positioned it against your entrance, you bit your lip in anticipation but then you felt him slide against your folds, covering his dick in your wetness as well before slapping your clit with the tip of his dick, making you whimper.
He then lined himself against your entrance and pushed in, and you arched your back at the stretch, it was so delicious, you felt so full.
He leaned on top of you and gave you a passionate kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you taste the tanginess, he supported his weight on his elbows which were on either side of you, gripping yours, fingers intertwined with yours. You were locked in a missionary position, a position that felt intimate.
Then you felt him move, thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, causing you to moan his name, the thrusts made you jolt up the bed, breasts bouncing due to the force emitted from it, his grip tightening as he grunted on top of you, rutting into your wet heat, his hair dropped his shoulders, cascading around his face, and you gasped at how godly his looked like this.
Then you felt his tip hit your gspot, constantly, which caused you moan extremely loudly, “Fuckk! Ahh~ Aemond!” you mewled, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, his hand left one of yours to cover your mouth as he continuously slammed into you.
“Shh, be quiet, or he'll wake up.” he whispers, referring to Aenys who was sleeping in the next room and you nodded, you felt him pull his hand away but his thumb traced your lips, you opened your mouth which made him put his thumb inside and you sucked on him, and you felt him groan, then he pulled it out, hand going back to grip yours, and you bit your lip to hold back your moans from slipping out.
You felt your core begin to tighten again and it snapped once more, causing you to arch you back, pushing your breasts against his chest and he muttered 'fuck' feeling the way you clenched around him.
His thrusts begin to grow sloppy and lose their rhythm, indicating that he was close, “Fuckk, I'm gonna cum inside you.” he says and you whine, “I'm going to get you pregnant, watch you grow round with my kid…” he growls, thrusting into you again and again, “You're going to give Aenys little siblings, You will, right? He looked so lonely, I think he'd appreciate that.” he grunts and you nod quickly, mind too hazy to even comprehend or acknowledge the complications behind you agreeing to this.
“Good girl.” he says before he finishes inside you, and paints your walls white, shooting up his seed far into you, riding his orgasm out.
You felt him pull out and thought that was the end until he pushed you over onto your back, and sat on his knees, he grabbed your waist and pulled it up, and you immediately switched to supporting your on your knees as you arched your back, stretching like a cat, your hands on the side of you.
He groaned when he watched his cum drip down your thighs before he scooped it up and put it in his mouth, tasting your combined essence.
He was still hard.
So he wasted no time, shoving himself back inside you and you whined at the way your walls felt overstimulated, not knowing if you can handle one more orgasm consistently.
He sheathed himself inside your walls, and moved with fervent speed like before, his balls slapping against your thighs, the room was filled with erotic noises, he gripped your waist for support, until his hand travelled slightly upwards, catching one of your tits before gripping it tightly, and rolling the nipple in between his fingers.
“I can't wait to watch them swell.” he grunts.
“You'd look so pretty with my child in your belly, the way your tummy will swell? Gods fuck, that is a vision.” he moans
“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you are meant to.” he notes, thrusting in and out, watching as the previous cum leaks out.
He clicks his tongue
“So much is going to waste, tsk, it's okay I'll fill you up again, make sure you get pregnant.” he groans and you moan, “Ye-yes fill me up.” you say, and he smirks at that, “Good girl, taking my cock like one.” he leans against you, your back pressing to his chest as he leaves kisses on the back of your neck, and you once again, topple over the edge for the third time.
He finishes too, inside you again.
You both fall besides each other on the bed, and realise the weight of the situation after the adrenaline and excitement of the moment fades away and the breathing becomes more stable.
“I- fuck.” Aemond begins not knowing what to say and you lay there quietly.
“Listen, ever since that day you walked in, I felt some type of pull towards you, I wasn't sure what it was, but it was as if we were meant to me, and I couldn't ignore the feelings brewing inside me.” you watch as he speaks.
“I- to put it in simple words, I fell in love with you. I really did, though it's fine if you do not share the same feelings, we can go back to pretending this never happened.” he confesses.
“I am in love with you too.” you confess, “I pushed these feelings away, because it wasn't appropriate.” you say and he looks at you this time.
Silence falls between you two.
A comfortable silence.
He pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you, hugging you, and you hug him back, the he places loving kisses atop you.
You felt something hard pressing against your inner thighs and you looked down, shocked to find him hard again, you chuckle.
“Again?” you tease and he playfully glares at you, “Yeah, you're so fucking irresistible.” he kisses your neck, hips mindlessly grinding against you. “I'm so sensitive.” you pout, but you get an idea, you quickly push him onto his back before getting on top of him, and then crawling down in between his legs, before taking his cock in your hand.
“Fuck!” he moans when he feels your warm hand wrap around it, before you gently tug on it, pumping your hand up and down, watching as the precum leaks out, you collect some with your tongue, poking the slight hole making him groan and grip the side of your head.
You trail kisses down to his balls, before giving them wet kisses as your hand pumps his cock, you lick a long stride up his length before taking him in your mouth, as best as you can, hands resting on his thighs to balance yourself.
You bob your head up and down, swirling the the tongue around him, pulling away time to time to breath before descending onto him once again, the grip on the side of your head tightened and you watched as he sat up slightly leaning on his elbow, before his hips thrusted upwards, and so you let him take control.
He collected your hair into a makeshift pony before gripping the back of your head tightly and thrusting his entire length into your mouth, the tip teaching the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, causing tears to well up in your eyes, you closed them and tried to breathe through your nose as he thrusted upwards and fast, essentially fucking your throat.
You felt him twitch slightly in your mouth, knowing he was close, you sucked him and hollowed your cheeks, he threw his head back at that, he felt steady pleasure rising within him before such a force expelled from his body, causing him to peak, shooting out ropes and ropes after cum into your mouth, you felt it hit the back of your throat, causing you to swallow unknowingly, before he slightly pulled out, cause the remaining to fall in your mouth.
He pulled out completely and watched your face, flushed and hair dishevelled, you held his cum in your mouth, waiting for his command, “Swallow.” and you did, obeying him, opening your mouth to show that there was none left, he groaned as he watched the remnants of his seed drip from the side of your mouth before he collected it with his index finger and shoved it back into your mouth, and you click his finger clean, he grunted before you upwards and kissing you, tasting himself in your mouth, hands squeezing your ass before he gave one of them light slaps, causing you to wince.
You pulled away and breathed heavily, he smiled down at you, before he left the bed to clean both of you up, collecting the clothes and getting dressed before he pulled beside him in the bed, going to sleep while hugging your form.
You dreaded the next morning, wondering how you'll explain your relationship to Aenys, you woke up to an empty bed, you read the time, it's was just 8AM, you felt sad but then you quickly got up and went outside finding Aemond and Aenys awake, sitting at the table conversing, your heart warmed at the sight, Aenys spotted you and ran over to you, lifting his arms up, asking you to silently to carry him, and you did, you picked him up before placing a small kiss to his forehead.
“Mama!” he said and you froze, before you looked at Aemond, who gave you a small smile and nodded and your eyes softened at it, it seems he had done the explaining.
“Mama! Mama!” Aenys grabbed your face making you look at him and you chuckled, “Yes Aenys, it's mama.” you say and he smiles brightly.
“I'll go get ready for work.” Aemond says, getting up from the spot he was sitting on and coming over to both of you before he pressed a kiss to Aenys forehead, and doing the same to you and going inside his room and getting ready.
You put Aenys down on his chair and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, you made simple eggs on toast, and just on the time, Aemond came out of his room, looking all ready and you placed three plates down, along with fruits cut into small pieces of Aenys.
“I made breakfast.” you say and Aemond smiles at you, before sitting down and the three of you ate breakfast.
Applying for this job was the best thing you've ever done.
Who knew your life would change the course of it in the span of just a few months.
There were other things to discuss, and you knew it was plaguing Aemond's mind as well, but you both decided it will be best if discussed later and so you both basked in this moment, listening to Aenys babbles.
“So i hwave a mom now rightt?” he asks Aemond who nods, “Are you happy?” he asks and Aenys nods quickly, “Yesh! Aenys is wery hwappy! But…” he trails off and you feel your heartbeat quicken.
“I want a sibling too…” he murmurs
Oh gods.
Your eyes flickered over to Aemond who stared at you, you blush and look away as you remembered the details of last night.
“I wwant a swister… ! or a bwother!!! Hmm any is fine…” he babbles on, not knowing what he is asking for.
You look at Aemond again, who didn't seem to take his eye off you at all.
He smirks.
Oh fuck.
You quickly get up and collect the empty plates before going behind the kitchen counter and placing them in the sink, washing your hands, focusing your attention on them, until you felt arms wrapped around your waist before one trailed upwards towards your breast giving it squeeze, you quickly looked up to see Aenys was watching until you realised he was nowhere to be seen.
“He's in his playroom.” Aemond whispered in your ear, grinding slowly against your ass.
“Heard that? He wants a sibling so badly, surely you can't deny him right?” he asks, pinching your nipples through the fabric causing you to gasp.
He places kisses down your neck, before he spins you around and kisses you on the mouth, making you wrap your arms around his shoulder. He pulls away before kissing you on the cheek.
His phone rings and he notices the time, 9:15AM, he was running late which was the first for him, and it was his assistant calling him.
“Fuck, mood spoiler.” he grunts before shoving his phone back in his pocket before placing a kiss to your mouth once again.
“Don't think I'm done with you yet, it's gonna be one hell of a ride when I get back home.” he presses one final kiss to your neck before pulling himself away from you, granted it was so fucking difficult considering how he wanted to fuck you on the kitchen counter just moments ago.
You nod and follow him to the front door.
“Have a nice day, Aemond.” you say, and he smiles at you, coming to kiss you but then Aenys comes running towards you both.
“Is dada going to work?? BYE DADAAA” he screams and Aemond chuckles, before waving a small 'bye' to Aenys, and leaving from the front door.
He barely left and he already couldn't wait to get back home from work.
And you gulped, nervous in anticipation.
Oh seven hells.
———
5K notes · View notes
rileyslibrary · 9 months
Text
This or That
A/N: It’s been a while since I made Ghost flustered. Fluff. Self-indulgent. (Render by @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot)
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“Movies or series?” You ask.
“Movies.” He replies instantly.
“Why?”
He shifts his gaze from the scope of his sniper rifle and looks at you.
“You said the game is called this or that,” he states with a low voice. “You didn’t mention anything about me having to justify my choices.”
“Just curious.” You reply, shrugging.
He turns his attention back to the scope and shuts one eye. “Because you finish them within two, maybe three hours max.” He explains.
“Efficient, even in your leisure time, eh Lt.?”
He clicks his tongue. You wait for him to ask you back, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s too focused to bother.
“Well, I prefer-”
“Series.” He interrupts you. “I know.”
“How?”
“I know you binge-watch them late at night.”
“How do you kn-”
“And then struggle to stay awake the next morning.”
You widen your eyes and inhale through gritted teeth. “That obvious, huh?”
He chuckles and murmurs a ‘mhm’ while looking at the distant building.
A message pops up on your laptop’s screen. Kate.
“Laswell says your target is on his way; she’ll let us know when he’s getting closer,” you inform him. “Vanilla or strawberry ice cream?”
“Neither.” He replies sternly. “Boring flavours.”
“Touché.” You agree, tilting your head to the side and shrugging one of your shoulders.
He lets out another chuckle, this time shorter and readjusts his grip on the trigger.
“Any other movement in the area?” He asks, making a subtle head nod towards your laptop.
“Negative, sir,” you reply. “Drone feed is clear.”
“Good; give me another,” he orders.
“Alright,” you say and clear your throat. “Soap or Price?”
He rapidly shakes his head and turns to look at you. “What in the world is that question?” he asks with narrowed eyes.
“If you had to spend a day with either of them, not on a mission,” you explain. “Would you prefer it to be with Soap or with Price?”
He rolls his eyes and exhales slowly. “Price,” he finally mutters.
“What about Gaz or Price?”
“Price.”
“Me or-”
“Price.”
“Why?”
“For the same fucking reason I said Price the first two times,” he replies, annoyed, and resumes his surveillance through the scope.
You both fall quiet. You absently fiddle with the straps of your tactical vest, monitoring the drone’s feed on the laptop in front of you.
“What about yourself?” He asks, breaking the silence. “Soap or Price?”
“You.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“That is my answer.” You murmur, shrugging.
You catch him out of the corner of your eye as he slowly turns to look at you. You don’t dare to meet his gaze. You feel your cheeks burning; you must be as red as a beet now. You reach for a strand of your hair, untucking it from behind your ear and letting it fall to the side of your face, using it as a curtain to hide your embarrassment. You inch closer to the laptop, but he follows your every move.
“Target spotted four kilometres away,” you state, hoping to divert his attention. “We have approximately fifteen minutes.”
“Fuck,” he swears and punches the roof you are both perched on. He shuts both eyes, lowers his head, and takes a few deep breaths.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, urgently. “Everything alright?”
“Be quiet for a moment, will you?” He murmurs and checks his watch.
“Lt, target’s not supposed to be here for the next fifteen min-”
“You shouldn’t be doing that.” He states and taps the digital screen.
“Do what?” You ask puzzled.
“Playing games while we have a target to eliminate,” he snaps and shakes his wrist.
You peek at the watch; he’s measuring his heart rate.
“How much?” You ask.
“145 beats per minute,” he replies as he takes a few more deep breaths to refocus. “Now cut the games, and let’s finish the job.”
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5K notes · View notes
griffonsgrove · 5 months
Note
Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD
General Dating Headcanons | Vox
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a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
wordcount: 1299
cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.
(PLATONIC):
Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.
However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.
When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday. 
You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. 
You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??
You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.
You didn't care too much for the latter.
This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s. 
You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.
You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.
One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??
He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.
He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.
He def goes through your search history.
He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.
You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.
OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.
You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.
But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.
(ROMANTIC):
Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.
Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.
That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.
Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.
He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.
Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.
CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.
Insecure much?
Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.
Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.
You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.
You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked. 
Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.
Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.
Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?
He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.
He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.
He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.
He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.
And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.
If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)
The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.
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Text
It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 7 ] || [ Chapter 9 ]
Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost is making a move.
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Chapter 8: Awooga?
Surprisingly, your one-night stand with John last night did wonders for you. You felt energized all day and made it a point to clean everything instead of moping about like you have tended to do since your break-up with Ethan.
There were days when you considered texting him, neck deep in feelings you couldn’t quite move past, trying your best to stay afloat. Four years by his side couldn’t be forgotten in the blink of an eye, even if neither of you wanted anything to do with the other and had each other blocked on every platform imaginable.
It’s 4 P.M. on Saturday and you’re laying about in your living room wearing lounge clothes, your legs spread over your coffee table, eyes lazily locked on the TV as you fiddle with your phone, twirling it in your hand.
Eventually, you find yourself getting bored… So you decide to open Tinder one last time. You got what you wanted out of it. John scratched that itch… There’s no need to keep it. But it’s still funny enough to judge the men on that app even if you’re no longer doing anything with them.
You start Left Swiping on every profile that comes onto your screen, silently judging each one and murmuring to yourself. You get about 15 profiles in before you find yourself bored of even that.
Sighing and getting peckish, you decide to order yourself something good for dinner from a delivery app. Then, while waiting for the notification that your driver is on his way, you return to Tinder.
You open the DM tab, finding dozens of new DMs from guys and skim through them, none of them catching your eye. If you were in the mood, you’d maybe engage in convo with one of them, maybe annoy them a little… But they all seem so… bland.
Then you find Simon’s chat lost in the influx. You click on it for a moment, smiling a bit as you spot his politeness and excess professionalism for someone that’s on a dating app looking to get laid.
Biting your lip, your fingers glide across the keyboard as you shoot him a quick message.
you: so… are you thinking of ever uploading a new pic of yourself?
The Read indicator popped up under your DM almos instantly, and the bubbles indicating Simon was typing soon followed.
Simon: Look who it is. Simon: Hello to you too. Simon: No, I don’t intend to do that. you: hi, sorry. x you: why not? Simon: I don’t take this app seriously enough to want to show off what I look like. you: was that a dig at me for having a whole gallery? Simon: No. Simon: Unless you want it to be. 😉 you: 😱😱 you: SIMON DID YOU JUST USE AN EMOJI? Simon: I regret doing it now. you: NOOOO pls don’t! you: it was fun!!!! Simon: Alright then. Simon: How are you feeling today?
You’re genuinely shocked by his question and you find yourself smiling a bit.
you: i’m okay hru? Simon: Just okay? I’m fine thanks. you: yeah! feeling lazy. Simon: You had me worried you weren’t feeling well after last night.
Your cheeks warm up so quickly that you even sputter and sit up on the couch with a start.
you: you know?? Simon: Of course I know. Simon: John’s my captain.  you: he told you??????? Simon: No. John’s old school. No kiss and tell. Simon: But we were all expecting he’d go home with you. Simon: Kind of an open secret. you: oh Simon: Does that bother you? you: i don’t think so? you: i guess i should’ve expected you would realize it Simon: I’m sorry. Simon: To be fair, I can tell you that you did a great job, he’s in a much better mood. you: that is not the praise you think it is 😭 Simon: I’m not used to giving praise, cut me some slack alright? you: right. i can see that. you: the whole - my team would say i push them - thing Simon: I stand by that. Simon: I’m not very good at talking. Simon: But I’m not a liar. you: i’ve noticed you: you tend to hate being called that. Simon: Lie enough on the job. Simon: When I’m talking to people outside of that, I like being as honest as I can be. you: i see you: sooo does that mean i can ask you things and you’ll be honest in the answers? Simon: About? you: you Simon: Within reason. you: what do you look like Simon: 6ft4, blonde, brown eyes. you: that’s it? Simon: I said ‘Within reason’. That means I won’t give you more than I think I should. you: infuriating 😤 Simon: That’s life.
Just as you’re about to answer, your doorbell rings. You were so absorbed in Simon’s chat that you didn’t notice your delivery driver arrived.
You slip on some shoes quickly and dash downstairs to the front door of the building to receive your food.
Once upstairs, you set your food on the table and unwrap everything, beginning to eat your Nando’s chicken as you try to resume texting Simon one-handed.
That’s when you spot the message he sent you while you were busy.
Simon: Added some new pics. Simon: Don’t say I never did anything for you. Simon: But I’ll take them down in 2 minutes so you better hurry up.
Eyebrows raised, you quickly click on his profile and rush to tap through to the new pictures.
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The first one makes you chuckle. Of course, it’s him wearing a hoodie and a stupid mask… But the second one? Your jaw drops open and you find yourself swallowing dryly.
“Awooga…” You quip to yourself and giggle, amused at your own silliness as your eyes trail over every inch of exposed skin in Simon’s chest. Even if that’s not him, even if that’s just some… bloke he found online, it’s still a bloody fine picture.
Returning to the chat, you type a quick reply.
you: not bad Simon: Answered your questions? you: raised a couple more. Simon: Good. Simon: You keep them in your mind for later. you: why does it feel like you’re leaving?? Simon: Because I am. Duty calls. Simon: I’ll tell John you said 'Hi'. you: okay... you: be careful!
As soon as you sent that message you found yourself facepalming. Why do you sound like a concerned partner? You don’t even know this man. Any of them really. Even if you had one of them inside of you less than 24 hours ago.
You don't dwell too much on it because soon there's a message from Simon on the screen.
Simon: Always am. Don’t miss us too much.
Shaking your head, you set down your phone, locking the screen, and turning back to your peri-peri chicken and chips, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.
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blughxreader · 5 months
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platonic yandere batfam thoughts...
how you end up integrating into the family.
I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.
Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?
Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.
Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.
It would start small.
It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.
Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.
After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.
Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.
Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.
With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.
Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.
However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.
Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.
Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.
Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.
You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.
When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.
There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.
Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.
So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.
The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.
And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.
You protect your peace. You protect the house.
this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist
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stervrucht · 8 days
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David Bowie plays on the radio and Steve drums his fingers along the steering wheel of his car as he contemplates. He is truly too good for this world. Now he is running errands for Dustin like some common soccer mom. The kid only had to give him one pout – one! – and Steve felt all his resistance crumbling. So, there he is on a Friday evening, seated in his still-running car in a Hawkin’s trailer park.
He stops his car in front of Eddie’s trailer and listens to the music as he gathers the willpower to leave the car.
Laughed at his long black hair, his animal grace, Bowie sings on the radio. 
How fitting
Outside, dusk is setting in and the world colors purple. Closing up Family Video had taken longer than he anticipated due to a difficult customer who couldn’t decide between The Thing and The Nightmare on Elm Street and had asked Steve extensive questions to make up his mind. 
Steve used to be fine with horror movies, but given recent developments (give or take his life the past few years), he isn’t into horror anymore. Out of the two, The Thing is probably the worst offender. Those crazy fleshy monsters hit a bit too close to home. Although, Freddie Krueger does have some vague Vecna vibes to him.
Steve is so lost in thought he doesn't notice the door of the trailer open until Eddie knocks on his window with his knuckle. With a jolt, Steve turns to roll his car window down. Once it is fully open, Eddie leans forward, his arms resting on the car.
“Sup Harrington.” Eddie’s hair falls forward and the low-cut tank top reveals his chest, framed by the silver chain of a guitar-pick necklace. 
Shaved, Steve notes.  Then, realizing he is staring, he tears his eyes away, coming face to face with Eddie Munson who gives him an amused look.
“Oh uh, right” – Steve coughs nervously – “Dustin asked me to give you this…” he unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over to the passenger seat where he grabs the cardboard box of some nerdy game.
“Here–” He hands the box to Eddie’s outstretched hands.
“Hell yeah, Talisman. Took Henderson long enough.” Eddie pushes himself away from the car and inspects the box for a moment. When he turns back to Steve, his eyes move towards the car radio.
“I didn’t take you for a Bowie fan.”
“Oh, I’m not really … Robin must have left it in. It’s … alright, I suppose.” 
“And what type of music does Steve find more than alright?” 
Eddie flashes him a cheeky smile and Steve finds himself somewhat intimidated. Whatever his answer, someone like Eddie will probably find it lame. Steve isn’t all that passionate about music anyway and mostly listens to whatever is on the radio.
“Maybe Queen, The Bee Gees…” he lists in no particular order.
Eddie tuts. “Such a proper boy.”
Although he expects it, Steve still winces.
“I should introduce you to some real music,” Eddie says thoughtfully, then – “Wanna come in?”
Steve takes a moment to think. His parents are out, so it isn’t like he’s expected at home. He has nothing to do tonight except watch some movies (perks of the job). Although the prospect of hanging out with Eddie doesn’t thrill him, it might be the more interesting option.
“Sure,” Steve turns his car off, rolls the window back up and opens the car door. Eddie takes a step back, giving Steve some room to get out. 
Eddie’s eyes move to his chest and Steve realizes he is still wearing the stupid Family Video vest. He quickly takes it off, crumples it and unceremoniously throws it in his car before shutting the door again. With a quick turn of his key, the car is locked.
Steve follows Eddie towards the trailer. It is a warm summer’s night and the shadows of the trees grow long under the purple sky. The trailer park is surrounded by ample woods and fields from which the sound of crickets flares up.
“You coming?” Eddie waits for him at the door. Steve doesn’t realize he stopped moving and quickly makes his way to where Eddie is standing.
“After you, King Steve,” Eddie says, holding open the door with a dramatic bow.
Damn, Eddie is kind of annoying, isn’t he? No wonder Dustin gets on so well with him. Two peas in a pod. Steve lets out an unamused scoff.
Once inside, Steve stands in the middle of the…living room? Kitchen? He isn’t sure what to call such multifunctional rooms. He crosses his arms and shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he waits for Eddie to put the game away.
The main room is crowded and messy. It is the complete opposite of his parents’ living room, which is kept meticulously clean and organized – with the help of their cleaning lady of course. The coffee table is stained with water circles from mugs and the like. Something unthinkable to Steve. If he ever puts a glass down without a coaster, he will face his mother’s wrath.
“Beer?” Eddie calls from the kitchen. He already turned his back to him to make his way to the under-table fridge.
“Sure.” 
Steve is getting sick of standing around and decides to move to the small beige sofa. It is littered with clothes and after a moment of hesitation, he shoves them aside and sits down.
“You’re fucking tense,” Eddie says as he hands Steve a can of beer. He looks down at the pile of clothes and without hesitation grabs them and throws them in a different corner of the room. Then he lets himself fall onto the sofa next to Steve, which objects with a loud creak.
The sofa really is quite small and granted, a bigger one probably wouldn’t fit. The middle of it sagged considerably too, dragging its occupants to the center.
Steve feels the warmth of Eddie’s jeans-clad legs against his own. They are probably sitting a bit too close and Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 
The can lets out an audible hiss as Eddie opens it and takes a quick sip from his beer. Then, he puts it down on the table and jumps up again.
“Fuck, I was gonna play you some music.” He hurries past the kitchen into a separate room. 
Steve opens his own can – cheap store-brand beer – and takes a nervous gulp as he waits for Eddie to return.
He is starting to reconsider his choices this evening. Perhaps he should just have watched Back to the Future again. Instead, he is in the trailer of some guy he kinda-sorta knows because they have shared custody of some annoying kid (one of Steve’s best friends).
“Oh yes, this will be good.” Eddie re-emerges cradling a few cassettes in his arms like he is holding a baby. He squats in front of the coffee table and releases the collection of plastic cases on top of it. Steve eyes the contents, but he recognises none of it. Then he looks over at Eddie – the flesh of his knee peeks through the hole of his jeans and Steve wonders if Eddie made it himself or if it had naturally torn by use. 
Eddie shifts through the cassettes with ring-clad fingers, picking a few up and turning them around to look at the back of the plastic cases.
“Let’s start with Rainbow,” he mumbles to himself, grabbing the cassette (a hand holding a rainbow over mountains on its front). He walks over to a small side table next to the front door where an old-school cassette player stands.
With a loud click, the front of the cassette player opens and Eddie puts the cassette in and closes it again. Immediately, music starts playing.
“Fuck, hold on.”
Eddie rushes over to the kitchen, rummaging through some drawers until he finds what he is looking for.
Victoriously, he holds up a pencil to Steve and clicks his tongue. Steve takes another gulp of his beer as he watches Eddie move through the trailer with a skip in his step. He is actually excited to let Steve hear his music. Steve feels strangely flattered and he lets himself fall back on the sofa. 
The music stops and Eddie takes the cassette out. Using the back of the pencil, he rewinds the tape. Steve looks at Eddie’s hands as he works. The rings are kinda cool. Maybe he should let Robin pick out a ring for him too. Although perhaps not with skulls and crosses like Eddie wears. Maybe something more simple, like a signet ring or something.
Steve is pulled from his thoughts when he hears the cassette player click shut again. 
“Your player doesn’t rewind?” Steve asks.
“Steve” – Eddie puts the pencil behind his ear and turns to look at him – “I live in a trailer…”
Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks. 
Shit, sometimes he forgets his parents are very well off and some things are considered luxuries instead of the default. He made the same mistake with Robin too – multiple times – but it was hard to prevent. He thinks back on his car – not particularly expensive, but also not as beat-up as Jonathan’s. Does Eddie think he is some spoiled rich boy?
“Right, sorry.” Steve takes another mouthful of beer. Eddie turns around again to put the cassette in the cassette player. 
A song begins to play, the sound reminds Steve of something alien – not really like music at all. Once the drums kicks in Eddie begins to bob his head on the beat, his hands hitting an invisible drum. He dances across the room, drumming his invisible drumsticks along the wall before falling back onto the sofa, stringing his fingers as if playing a guitar.
“Shit, I should really learn this on the guitar.” He leans forward to grab his can of beer. Condensation forms on the outside and when he picks it up, a wet circle is left on the table.
Eddie kicks his feet up, white sneakers hitting the wood of the coffee table and the cassettes rattle. He takes a deep swig of his beer and audibly sighs. 
Steve leans forward, arms resting on his thighs and can between his knees. Once the music actually began, it wasn’t too bad. He didn’t understand the long intros though, and preferred it if music would just start.
“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks.
“Not bad.”
“Not bad” – Eddie scoffs – “You, my friend, have not been exposed to nearly enough good music.”
Steve chuckles. “I thought Bowie was pretty acceptable by –” he looks Eddie up and down demonstratively, “ – your kind.”
“My kind, huh?” a smile plays at the corners of Eddie’s lips. “And what would that be, exactly?” 
Well, shit. Steve drove himself straight into possible-insult town. Eddie eyes him curiously, one elbow resting on the sofa’s backrest and his hands holding his can in a way Steve could only describe as cool. 
“Well, you know…” he trails off.
“I know…?”
“Eh, metalheads, I guess?”
“Ziggy Stardust isn’t metal, you know that right?”
Steve sighs exasperatedly. “I know, ugh. I mean he’s–”
“Weird?” Eddie finishes.
Steve takes another gulp of beer, desperate to compose himself. “Yeah,” he answers lamely.
“I suppose he’s pretty weird, huh?” Eddie eyes the ceiling of the trailer while taking a lazy sip from his beer. “Did you know he used to be gay?”
Steve looks to Eddie, who is still eying the ceiling, head lying back against the sofa’s backrest. 
“Used to be?” If Steve is to believe Robin, there is no ‘used to be ’ when it comes to being gay. You either are or you aren’t. Now he thinks about it, Bowie seems somewhat queer with his tight suits and styled hair, but that is what girls dig, isn't it? He has heard countless girls swoon over men just like that.
“You never had a gay phase, Harrington?” 
Steve nearly drops his can.
“Gay….phase?”
“You know, live a little, try some shit, see what sticks –”
“I can’t say I have,” Steve mumbles, his eyes now firmly fixed on the can in his hands. He plays nervously with the lip, pulling it in tandem with the music before taking another sip.
“With a pretty face like yours, you might actually get some good ones.”
Steve chokes on his beer. Actually chokes, and he hits his chest with a fist to get himself to breathe again.
“W-what?”
“How can you know what you like when you never tried it?” Eddie sits up straight, pulling one leg to his chest as he turns to Steve. His dark eyes seem like a bottomless lake and Steve feels small under his gaze.
“H-have you?” Steve stutters and it is utterly embarrassing. Why is he so rattled by some stupid revelation? 
Wait, did Eddie just call him pretty?
Eddie smirks at him like they are sharing in a secret, and perhaps they are.
“Fuck yes, if someone tells me not to do something you can bet your ass I will do it. Besides, humans are humans, big fucking deal.” 
“So – was it a phase? In your case?” Steve asks carefully. He isn’t really sure why he asks. Maybe it is part curiosity. He never seriously considered relationships with men. Some are nice enough to look at, sure, but marriage, a house, children – that is only meant for a man and a woman right? A world in which someone just casually tries homosexuality seems…foreign. 
“Hm, I guess so … Wow, don’t look at me like that Harrington. Are you disappointed?”
“W-what, no!” Steve really doesn’t know why he is getting so flustered. He suddenly feels self-conscious under Eddie’s piercing eyes and runs a hand through his hair – a nervous habit.
“Fuck, you are – well, alright, maybe for you I can arrange an encore.”
Before Steve has time to respond, Eddie pushes himself upright and leans one knee on the sofa between Steve’s legs. He feels the cold metal of Eddie’s rings under his chin as he lays a sprawled hand on his throat and tilts his head. 
Steve freezes, air caught in his chest as Eddie leans over his face, his breath hot on his lips. Steve’s right hand uselessly holds on to the near-empty can – afraid to spill it – while his left hand digs into the sofa next to his thighs. Then, Eddie leans down, capturing his lips with practiced ease. Steve feels his long hair tickle his cheeks and the scruff of a five-o-clock shadow grace his chin. 
Eddie’s lips move over his, slightly chapped and rough in a way that couldn’t possibly be a girl. Without meaning to, Steve feels his own lips move against Eddie’s. 
Well, now he couldn't pretend it was just something happening to him. He had graduated to an active participant. 
Kissing Eddie Munson. Eddie freaking Munson.  
Robin was going to have a field day.
Perhaps the most surprising part is how he doesn’t hate it. He likes the feeling of stubble on his chin, the hard corners of Eddie’s jaw, the way Eddie pushes him back onto the sofa and he wills Steve’s mouth open with a sweep of a thumb and the cold metal of rings on his face. A hot tongue explores his mouth, stroking it against Steve’s in a way that makes him gasp.
Steve has never experienced anything like it. Usually with the girls he dated, he took the lead. Kisses were usually shy and timid. Eddie is completely different. He knows what he wants and he isn’t afraid to get it. Steve feels something stir in him as he presses back.
Eddie bites his bottom lip, taking it between his lips, and breaks away from him. Steve feels breathless and blinks up at Eddie. His hand reaches over to Steve’s right side, gently taking the can from his hand and setting it away on the coffee table. He turns back, eyes dark and Steve wills his mouth close as he regards him. 
Was he gay? Shit, he doesn’t really want to think about it now. Humans are humans was what Eddie had said right?
Steve reaches out, sliding his hands behind Eddie’s neck, and pulls him back. Eddie moves himself into a more comfortable position, placing a knee on either side of Steve’s thighs and straddling him. Eddie’s hands reach for Steve’s temples, threading themselves through Steve’s hair – rings catch on the strands but Steve doesn’t mind the painful sting as it pulls. He just wants to get Eddie’s lips back on his – and so he does.
Their lips meet, fiery and hot. Open-mouthed Steve explores every corner of Eddie. He lowers his hands to Eddie’s back, playing on the edge of his tanktop and the hot skin underneath. If it works for girls, surely it works for guys too right?
He runs his hands up the side of Eddie’s chest, a thumb over a nipple, and Eddie gasps into his mouth. Steve feels heat settle in his crotch and he is glad he chose to wear jeans made of thick fabric rather than thin trousers. Steve’s hands move over Eddie’s chest, feeling the smooth muscle of it and the roughness of regrowing chest hair.
Eddie’s fingers reach the hair on the back of Steve’s head and yank it back, exposing Steve’s throat. He lets out a surprised yelp when he feels Eddie’s mouth latch to the delicate bow of his neck and suck. 
Steve is learning a lot about himself in the span of less than an hour. The way Eddie tugs his hair, and has his way with him is sending a pleasant jolt straight to his cock.  And Steve can’t help but moan under the ministrations of Eddie’s mouth as he sucks and bites. 
“Y-you’re gonna leave a mark,” Steve breathes.
“That’s the plan,” Eddie mouths against his neck. Then, he licks his way up into Steve’s mouth again.
Shit, he is kinda into this. Steve isn’t sure how he could ever go back to girls now he knows what it feels like to be touched by calloused fingers and kissed with such force. 
Eddie’s hand leaves his hair and travels down to the rim of his jeans, pulling out his shirt in the process. Steve feels the ghost of fingers running along its edge and the muscles in his stomach tense pleasantly in response.
Eddie breaks away from him, his breath ghosting over his lips as he searches Steve’s eyes. 
“You wanna take this further?” Eddie asks, his eyes flitting over Steve’s face.
Steve feels drunk, even though half a can of beer isn’t nearly enough to even get him close to being buzzed. He is also turned on. Ridiculously so. But fuck, what does taking it further even mean in this context. Steve feels like a virgin all over again and shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to hide his arousal from Eddie.
Not that they are not actively engaged anymore, anxiety hits Steve like a bag of bricks.
“Uhh…” is all Steve manages to utter.
Eddie throws himself off Steve’s lap onto the empty spot next to him on the sofa. He puts his feet on the table again, hands behind his head.
“You’re right, maybe that’s enough for tonight.” 
It doesn’t escape Steve that Eddie’s jeans look a little tighter than usual.
They sit in silence for a moment, only the voice of Rainbow’s singer cutting through the tension. 
“I thought you said it was a phase,” Steve asks after he finally gets his breathing under control.
“Oh right, I should have clarified” – Eddie grins up at the ceiling – “The gay thing was a phase. I figured I was into both.”
Both? Wasn’t that something only hippies preached with their free love? Somewhere, Steve feels a wave of relief washes over him. He never seriously considered someone could like both. He has some serious soul-searching to do once he gets home.
“Huh,” is all Steve replies. Eddie’s eyebrow quirks in interest as he side-eyes Steve.
“I, uh…probably should get going.” Steve puts his hands on his thighs and pushes himself up. Eddie doesn’t move from his position, but his eyes follow him with interest.
“If you’re ever in the mood for a sequel, you know where to find me.” 
Steve nods, because what else can you do in reply to such a comment? He is baffled at the ease with which the words escape Eddie. There is no shame or self-doubt.
As he lays his hand on the door handle, Steve looks back one final time. Eddie’s feet are bouncing in tandem with the beat of the drums and his eyes are closed. He looks so absolutely unshaken by their encounter that Steve feels almost jealous.
Steve is anything but unshaken.
“See you around,” he offers.
“See you, Harrington,” Eddie’s voice is playful, even though he doesn’t move.
When Steve is safe and sound in the driver’s seat of his car, he leans his head against the steering wheel and stays there for a moment. 
What the hell just happened?
He turns his mirror to his neck and traces the hickey that Eddie left on his throat with a finger. He would have to ask Robin for some make-up to cover that up. 
She is going to love this story.
Steve sighs and pushes the mirror back into its original position. When he starts the car, Bowie continues to sing like nothing happened.
Yes, he was alright, his song went on forever, Bowie sings and Steve groans as he hits the gas.
***
It is Saturday morning when Steve walks up to the Buckley residence. He passes the garden fence and walks around the house to the backdoor.
Hawkins was struck by the beginning of a heatwave and at this point, the temperature was bearable as long as one didn't move too much. The perfect day for a visit to the pool, but too hot for videos. 
Which is why Steve is sure today won’t be too busy at Family Video. Fine by him. 
The quiet days he works with Robin are always his favorite. Sometimes Henderson comes over – either with his friends or alone – and they mess around with the cardboard cut-outs or watch a movie on the little TV screen hanging from the ceiling. Steve has zero regrets about missing out on college. Everything he loves is right here in Hawkins.
He pulls at the red handkerchief around his neck. It is against company policy to wear scarves (and probably too hot too) but Steve needs something to cover up the damage of his little adventure with Eddie. At least, until he gets his hands on some skin paint stuff – or whatever girls call that type of make-up.
He enters through the backdoor straight into the kitchen, where he finds Robin’s mother clearing the table of breakfast plates. The room smells faintly like toast.
“Morning, Ms. Buckley!” he calls, already moving towards the hallway. Steve hears her respond, but he's halfway up the stairs by then.
“Rob!”
“Just a second!” Her voice is muffled. She opens her door, fixing an earring. Her eyes flick to his scarf before meeting his gaze.
“Geez, you’re early.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve walks straight past her and throws himself on her unmade bed.  Robin pays him no mind and she walks over to her dresser again. From his spot on the bed, Steve can see Robin's face reflected in the mirror as she fusses with her hair. When she reaches for a pouch, Steve is suddenly reminded of why he is early to begin with. 
“Do you have that face-stuff?” he asks as he sees Robin pull a pencil from the pouch.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific than ‘face stuff’.”
“You know, the skin-colored goo.” Steve makes motions over his face as if he’s painting.
“Concealer?” Robin’s mouth is open in concentration as she lines her waterline with black.
“That’s it!” Steve throws himself off the bed and walks over to Robin.
“Sure, I’ve got some,” Robin puts down her pencil and rummages through the pouch again. She pulls out a small beige bottle and holds it up for Steve. He reaches for it, but Robin pulls away.
“Does this have anything to do with your avant-garde fashion statement today?” She looks at his scarf again.
Steve laughs sheepishly and pulls his scarf aside. Robin’s eyes widen at the dark hickey on his neck.
“Jesus, Steve! It’s massive” – she leans in closer – “Was it Rebecca? Never thought she’d be the type...” Robin reaches for his neck but Steve pulls away.
“What? No!” – Steve lets go of the scarf – “I stopped seeing her like five weeks ago. Get with the times, Rob.”
“Well, sorry I can’t keep up with your busy love life.” Robin turns back to the mirror. She definitely isn’t sorry and Steve wouldn’t exactly call the origin of the hickey ‘love’. A lapse of judgment, maybe, or something uniquely in the corner of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson. 
“Can I get the stuff now?”
“Fine,” she says and she pushes the bottle in his hands.
***
Outside the car, the world passes in a flash of yellow fields. The windows are down and the scent of drying grass fills the air. Steve turns the music up to drown out the thundering sound of the wind as it enters the car and drums his fingers on the steering wheel while he uselessly mouths along with the music. He doesn’t know the lyrics, but that can’t stop him. The fact it annoys Robin when he does so makes it even more fun in his opinion.
“You’re in a good mood,” Robin remarks while she digs through her bag.
“It’s a beautiful day and I’m working with my best friend,” Steve chirps.
“Uhuh, right,” she replies skeptically. She puts her bag back between her legs on the car floor and fiddles with something in her hands.
Steve’s eyes are focused on the road before him when the music suddenly stops.
“Hey! I was listening to that!”
“I thought you said Bowie was ‘overrated trash’” Robin says while opening the case to another cassette. 
“I didn’t,”
“You so did, and you called his pants too tight,”
“Whatever, driver decides,” 
Robin sighs and pushes the cassette back in. “When I get my license, it will be Blondie all day every day. You better prepare yourself, dingus!”
Steve hums in satisfaction as the music comes back on. Maybe he found it somewhat grating in the beginning, but it was growing on him now. That, of course, had nothing to do with Eddie Munson.
“Did you know he used to be gay?” Steve suddenly says.
“Bisexual, Steve, and of course I know that. The question is, why do you?” From his periphery, he can see Robin staring at him.
“I just heard it somewhere,”
“Somewhere…” Robin repeated. She leans over to put the other cassette back in her bag. 
Steve is relieved when he sees Family Video come into view. It’s not like Robin will forget their conversation, she is far too smart for that. And he really does plan on telling her about what happened yesterday, he just has to find the right moment. Hell, maybe it wouldn’t even be today. 
Steve pulls into the parking space and hops out of the car. He locks his door and throws the keys over the car to Robin. She fumbles in her attempt to catch it and Steve is once again reminded that Robin is a band dweeb and not an athlete.
“Let’s open this baby up,” he says as he tosses the store keys into the air and catches them overhand.
“You’re such a show-off” – she walks past Steve into the store and continues without looking back – “For your information, there are no girls around…”
“Yet,” Steve finishes and Robin groans in response.
There wouldn’t be any girls around for most of the day as it turned out. 
As Steve expected, it was a slow day. The only people who visited were those who probably wouldn’t be found dead sunbathing, nerds who never stepped outside (except to rent a video, apparently), and old people looking for something nice to watch with their grandkids. 
Somewhere between the shelves, Robin is putting returned VHS tapes into their rightful place. Meanwhile, Steve sorts through new arrivals and adds them to the computer system. In the back of the shop,  a guy has been staring at some science fiction movies for probably half an hour by now. Category basement nerd, Steve decides.
They had been working in relative solitude. Steve looks up as he hears the bell signal someone’s entrance. He is greeted with a curly head of hair.
“Henderson!” Steve stands up and throws himself over the counter. The secret handshake is a must and cannot be skipped. 
Shake, box, Star Wars sword thing, guts.
Dustin smiles wildly at him. 
Just as Steve is spilling his guts, the bell chimes again. He looks up, readying himself to apologize to the poor customer he has no doubt scared off with his wild gestures when he comes face to face with dark bottomless eyes.
“Munson,” Steve is probably gawking, at least a little and Eddie looks amused at the scene in front of him.
Dustin, oblivious to it all, immediately starts talking. 
“I was just about to grab my bike when I ran into Eddie. He offered me a ride in his van. Mom’s at the pool today, says it’s too hot to stay indoors; she practically kicked me out of the house,”
“Right,” Steve wasn’t even looking at Dustin as he yapped on. He somehow couldn’t tear his eyes away from Eddie’s. It was strange seeing him in daylight now. The darkness of dusk had made their whole interaction the night prior seem like a dream. Now, face to face with Eddie, Steve was hit by the reality of what had transpired. He felt profoundly awkward.
“ – You should totally get a van, Steve!” Dustin’s voice pulls Steve from his thoughts and he tears his eyes away.
“Y-yeah, probably not. I like my car,” he composed himself, deciding to focus his attention on Dustin rather than Eddie.
“Hey Dustin”  – Robin walks from behind the shelves, carrying a now-empty crate. Her eyes land on Eddie with a hint of surprise – “Hey Eddie,”
“Got anything good yet?” Dustin asks Robin eagerly.
“You’re in luck–” Robin says as she puts the crate away, “We just added The Dark Crystal to our collection,”
“Sweet!” He hears Dustin call when Robin leads him away to one of the shelves in the back.
Steve is left alone with Eddie and doesn’t know how to compose himself. A part of him feels nervous under Eddie’s dark gaze. 
Eddie walks over to the counter and leans against it.
“Cool gig,” Eddie says as he looks around the store. “Do you ever get to keep the cardboard cut-outs?” Eddie points his finger at a life-size cut-out of Indiana Jones that stands proudly at the front of the store. Steve’s eyes involuntary drift back to his fingers again and he really ought to stop that. Sooner or later, Eddie will catch him staring.
“I don’t, but Keith does sometimes,” 
“Sweet,”
A silence falls between them and Eddie kicks his feet. The guy in the back still hasn’t made up his mind and a little distance away Dustin is eagerly explaining something about the ‘Gelflings’ to Robin.
“Hey, uh, are you doing anything next Friday?” Eddie asks suddenly. 
“Nothing yet,” Steve is desperately trying to stop his heart from beating at such an insistent pace and he hopes his voice comes out as nonchalant as he intends it to.
“You wanna…I don’t know…hang out or something?”
‘ Or something’. What does ‘or something’ mean ?
“Yeah, I– …yeah, sure” Steve fumbles a bit, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he doesn’t care. A smile grows on his face.
“Cool,” Eddie says.
He pushes himself away from the counter and walks up to a shelf to inspect some of the movies. He leans forward, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, and hums a song that sounds vaguely familiar. Steve stares at the interlaced fingers behind his back – adorned with silver rings – and shivers at the memory of their coolness against his neck.
“Cool,” Steve echoes.
***
The whole week, Steve had thought of countless excuses to cancel hanging out with Eddie on Friday, but in the end, none of them carried any weight. He couldn’t get Eddie of his freaking mind and the sappy romance movies that played on the television screen at work didn’t help either.
Eddie had visited Family Video again – once – with Dustin to return a movie. Apparently, they regularly hung out when Steve was busy at work and he felt something akin to jealousy. He had always been Dustin’s role model. Heck, the kid even started wearing his hair like him (thank you, Farrah Fawcett). That was until Eddie somehow inserted himself into the equation. Now, Dustin had grown out his hair and was wearing that ridiculous Hellfire shirt religiously; so often, Steve sometimes wondered if it was ever washed at all. 
Eddie had corrupted him, and maybe he had corrupted Steve a little bit as well.
“You seem nervous,” Robin remarks as she flips through a folder, biting in the back of a ballpen. 
“Well, I’m no–” Before Steve can finish his sentence, Robin continues.
“I haven’t heard you talk about your dates the whole week. Whoever gave you that ridiculous hickey has some serious hold over you –”
Steve feels his shoulders tense. The idea of Eddie having any kind of hold over him was crazy. Steve is cool, Steve is casual. Steve is definitely not nervous about his casual hangout with Eddie tonight.
“ –It’s Friday, aren’t you supposed to be on like three different dates tonight?” she continues.
“Uhm, well–”
“And you’ve been acting weird all week. Things are adding up to a very weird sum. The ‘buying thirty watermelons’ kind of weird sum.”
“You have such a way with words,” Steve rolls his eyes as he finally regains his composure.
“Steve!” Robin throws her pen at his head. He ducks, but the pen hits him anyway.
“Robin!” he mimics her tone.
“It’s someone’s mom, isn’t it? God, Steve–” Robin pulls a face in disgust.
“It’s not someone’s mom! Geez, Rob, what kind of person do you take me for?”
“The kind that acts all mysterious and weird, and suddenly listens to music he hates!”
Maybe going out of his way to buy a Rainbow cassette had been somewhat uncharacteristic. Of course, Robin would pick up on that.
“A guy can expand his tastes…” he trails, hit by the ambiguity of his statement.
Robin sighs, picks up her pen from the floor and gives him an irritated glance. 
Steve hears the bell chime just as he closes the door to the vault in which they store cash overnight. It is only a couple of minutes before closing time and Steve grunts audibly as he raises himself into a standing position. Entering a shop this close to closing time is a certified dick move and Steve is not above sending whoever entered away, customer service be damned. 
“We’re closed!” he yells as he walks back into the shop from the backroom. 
“Eddie’s here for you,” Robin calls without looking back at Steve. 
Sure enough, Eddie is standing at the counter. He is wearing a tank top and his hair is pulled up into a messy bun; his skin gleams with sweat from the heat outside and around his neck hangs a wiry set of headphones. Wind from the air conditioner pulls at his hair. When their eyes meet, a smile creeps on his face.
“Sup, Harrington…I’ve brought the van.” He holds the keys up demonstratively, dangling them from his index finger.
"He brought the van!" Robin exclaims looking back at Steve, her eyebrows raised and a sly smile playing on her lips. Steve can almost see the moment of realization dawn upon her as if a lightbulb had been switched on in her mind.
Steve scratches the back of his head. “I promised Robin a ride back–” 
“No problem, We’ll drop her off. I’ll bring you back to pick up your car later.” 
Steve casts Robin a quick glance and she shrugs in response.
“If Robin’s fine with it…” he trails.
“A van,” Robin whispers as Steve joins her at the counter and elbows him in his arm.
Steve rolls his eyes at her, but still can’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.
***
Twigs crack under Steve’s shoes as he follows Eddie through the forest. The canopy of the trees offers ample shadow and Steve finds the heat more bearable here than when they had been walking alongside the road. Still, his shirt clings to his back and sweat is slicking his hair as Steve runs a hand through it. 
When Eddie asked him to hang out, he didn’t expect they would be hiking through the forest behind the trailer park during a freaking heatwave. 
He looks over to Eddie. His bangs cling to his forehead and the veins on his arms are thick as his body fights to keep cool. Despite the oppressive heat, there's a glint of excitement in Eddie's eyes.
“There it is.” Eddie stops and looks somewhere in the distance. Steve squints and follows Eddie’s gaze. Between the trees, he can see the shimmer of water, and he realizes Eddie has taken them to Lover’s lake. 
When they near the water, Eddie ups his pace, stepping around some of the bigger rocks and boulders near the lake’s edge like he has done it a thousand times before. Steve tries to keep up, but his unfamiliarity with the landscape slows him down.
At last, he is standing on the pebbled lakeside. The sun is already lowering itself into the embrace of dusk and Steve thinks they have maybe two hours of light left before sundown. He looks to his right where he sees Eddie standing above a pile of wood. When he gets closer, Steve realizes it is actually an old stranded fisher’s boat.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Eddie remarks.
Steve looks the boat over. It’s medium sized and some of its wood has rotted away. A good portion of it is covered in graffiti, and half of it sits in the water. It has probably been there for years.
“You bring all your conquests here?” Steve asks as he watches Eddie climb onto the boat. The question is mostly meant to be lighthearted, yet he feels a sense of anticipation as he waits for Eddie to reach the deck. 
Eddie squats and looks down on him. “Nah, just you.” 
Somehow, those words make Steve’s heart flutter and his cheeks heat up. He quickly looks away, pretending to search for footing to scale the boat.
When Steve reaches the deck, Eddie is sitting cross-legged facing the lake. 
“This is a nice place,” Steve says, sitting next to Eddie. He lets his feet dangle from the side and follows Eddie’s gaze. Across the lake, some people linger, cooling down before heading back to their hot homes. Some children are playing in the shallows and their joyful screams carry over the water.
“Your work?” Steve asks as he gestures to some of the writing on the boat. The wood is covered in crude phrases, names, and dates – some of them are carved, but most look to be written with a sharpie.
“Some of it is.” Eddie pulls out a pocket knife from his jeans and hands it to Steve. “You can add to it if you want.”
Steve turns the knife in his hand. It is a classic red Swiss knife and it lays heavy in his hand. 
“Here–” Eddie twists around and Steve follows suit. Eddie’s fingers are tracing the wood behind them, running them over the carvings in the wood. “– I think I did this about a year ago.”
Eddie removes his hands and Steve can finally get a good look. It’s nothing crazy, just a simple ‘Eddie was here’ carved in crude scratches – eternalised in some rotting wood in a town no one cares about.
Eddie holds up his hand to Steve and he realizes he is asking for his knife back. Steve hands it over.
Eddie flips out the knife and bends himself over the carving. Steve turns back around, looking over the lake again as the sound of scratching fills his ears.
“All done!” Eddie says after a while.
When Steve turns back, he sees his name freshly carved into the wood, right above Eddie’s original carving.
Steve + Eddie was here
“You wanted to immortalize this?” Steve asks amused.
Eddie flips the knife closed again and shoves it into his pocket. “A year ago, I’d never thought I’d be sitting here with Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. Guess that’s pretty fucking special.” Eddie casts him a toothy grin. 
Steve had to agree though. If someone had told him a year ago he would be hanging out with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson on a Friday evening – rather than spend his night on a date or at a party – he would have declared them crazy.
“I suppose so,” Steve replies.
All is quiet for a moment, save the sound of leaves rustling by a welcome breeze. Steve closes his eyes as the wind kisses his sweaty skin.
“I got you something,” Eddie says, breaking the silence and he stands up. Steve’s gaze follows him and his eyes widen when he sees Eddie move his hands over his head to pull his tank top off. 
“But let's take a dip first…it’s hot as balls.” He throws the sweaty tank top at Steve, who slaps it out of the air before it can hit him. The fabric lands heavily on the wooden deck.
“I didn’t bring my trunks,” 
“You don’t need those here.” Eddie gives him a knowing smile as he kicks on his shoes.
Eddie is lean and he has a nice back, Steve thinks. Not particularly broad like some of his former teammates on the swimming team, but not bad for a guy who spends his time playing board games. His torso is littered with fading scars from the Upside Down and Steve has a fair amount of those himself.
“Get on with it, Harrington!” Eddie is already stripped to his underwear when Steve tears his eyes away and finally tugs his own shirt over his head.
A dip in the lake was a fantastic idea and Steve felt himself relax now that he was slowly but surely cooling down to more humane temperatures.
Steve tries to keep his eyes away from Eddie as they make their way back to the boat. The fabric of his boxers is clinging to his skin.
Eddie lays himself down on the deck, using his jeans as a pillow while he fiddles with his headphones. 
“C’mere Steve.” Eddie pats the space next to him and Steve reluctantly seats himself. Eddie is working the buttons of a walkman.
“Remember when I said I got you something?”
“That was like twenty minutes ago,” Steve feels borderline offended at the implication.
Eddie gestures for Steve to lay down as well and Steve complies begrudgingly, resting his head next to Eddie’s on his crumpled jeans while he stares up at the blue sky. He feels exposed in just his boxers and now Eddie wants them to lay side by side.
“Here.” Eddie hands him one half of the headphones while holding the other side to his own ears. Suddenly it dawns on Steve why they’re lying as they are. Eddie wants to let him listen to music. Steve moves half of the headphones to his ear and sure enough music starts playing.
“I put some things together I thought you might like.” Steve can see Eddie turn his head towards him from his periphery and study his face.
“You made me a mixtape?” Steve asks. The idea of Eddie putting together a mixtape for him was…well, really thoughtful.
“Now you say it out loud it sounds kinda lame,” Eddie laughs.
“No, it– it’s really nice.” Steve offers. 
He closes his eyes and listens to the unfamiliar tunes. Eddie did quite a good job at picking music that he might like. It is definitely less intense than Rainbow – the voices are less shrill, the guitar less cutting, and the drums beat at a lower frequency. It’s nice, ridiculously nice, and Steve can’t think of an instance when someone has ever taken the time to put something together for him like this – not even his ex-girlfriends.
They lay there for a while, each holding one end of the headphone. The people on the other side of the lake must have left by now because the only things Steve can hear are birdsong, the sound of rustling leaves, and the music that comes from the walkman. The breeze feels cool against his damp body, and he wonders why he had never done this before – stay at the lake until the sun went down.
Steve can almost feel himself drift asleep when Eddie nudges him.
“Steve.” Eddie shakes him gently by his shoulder.
“Hm, lemme be…” he whines without opening his eyes.
“You’re gonna be mosquito food.” Beside him, he hears Eddie getting up and when Steve finally opens his eyes, Eddie is already wearing his tank top. 
Steve hadn’t realized how long they had laid there. Only a small line of sun was visible in the distance and Eddie’s figure was dark against the pastel sky.
“I’m afraid I’m gonna need my pants,” Eddie says as he points at Steve’s head.
“Oh right.” Steve finally sits up, handing Eddie the makeshift pillow of his jeans.
Once they’re both dressed, Eddie leads them back through the forest. The sky is pink and the trees form black outlines against it. Steve walks after Eddie, who points out when to be mindful of a hidden boulder or a sudden dip in the forest floor. 
They take Eddie’s van back to Family Video so Steve can get his car. The whole car ride, Steve can’t help the feeling of nervousness that sits in his stomach. 
Today kinda felt like a date. 
Normally he would be on the other end of it – driving a girl home after a movie or something. And then, once he stops the car in front of her house, the girl would fidget and Steve would place his arm on the back of her car seat, confident and reassuring. He would tell her he had a good time and if she did as well, he would seal the deal with a kiss.
But this was Eddie, and they had been just two guys hanging out. 
Two guys that had made out a week ago. 
But that didn’t mean anything. It had just been Steve’s one-day gay phase and he got it out of his system now, hadn’t he? Eddie had only offered out of a misunderstanding, or maybe some weird kindness.
Shit, this train of thought was not helping Steve whatsoever. If anything, it had just made the nervous flutter in his stomach worse.
Eddie stops the van and the red neon light of Family Video plays with the curves of his face.
“There we are.” Eddie pushes himself back into his seat with his arms stretched on the steering wheel. Steve makes no movement to get out. They sit in silence for a while.
“About last week–” Steve starts. If he doesn’t acknowledge it now, he feels like he might go crazy. Besides, he doesn’t know when or if they’ll have another moment alone.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone. We can forget about it if you want…” Eddie says without looking at him. His shoulders are tense and his grip on the steering wheels seems to harden.
“No…it’s not–” Steve tries, but Eddie cuts him off.
“Don’t worry Steve, I get it. I know what people say about me –”
“But–”
“ –and it doesn’t have to mean anything. People make out all the time–”
Steve unbuckles his seatbelt. He’s kind of sick of Eddie not letting him finish his sentences and is ready to return the favor.
He leans over, turning Eddie’s head towards him and kisses him. Hard.
Eddie’s mouth is parted, mid-sentence, and Steve feels teeth beneath his lips. By all accounts, it’s a shoddy kiss – not his best work – but it seems to do the trick.
Eddie loses his grip on the steering wheel, hands moving to Steve’s shoulders instead as he eagerly returns the sentiment.
“Fuck, Harrington, aren’t you full of surprises,” Eddie breaths against his lips.
Steve leans back into his chair and runs a hand through his hair.
“You talk too much,” he says as he opens the door of the van.
By the time he hears Eddie get out of his van, Steve is already opening the door to his  BMW.
“Wait, Steve,” Eddie calls as he jogs over. When he’s standing in front of Steve, he pulls at Steve’s arm, running his hand down and urging Steve’s palm up. He shoves something square in his hand and closes Steve’s fingers around it.
“Next Friday, same time?” Eddie asks him, searching his eyes.
Steve nods silently. He stares after Eddie as he walks back to his van. He opens the door and turns one last time, giving Steve a two-fingered salute before getting in. 
Steve hears the sound of the motor swinging on and looks at his hand. In the dim neon light, he stares down at a small cassette. Steve can hardly read the black letters in the red light, but he realizes Eddie has written something on its white label.
From Freak, to Hair. 
[AO3]
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blackpanda48 · 4 months
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Hazbin Hotel Adam x fem!Reader
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A/n: I made this bc why not. Enjoy💕
Warning: Dirty talk (?)
*It wasn’t everyday that you saw the Commander of Exterminators, but it also wasn’t everyday when you became his Assistant. Yes, out of Gods orders, you are now The assistant of Adam. Yay!*
*You sat in the plush chair with your clipboard— Adam right next to you with an arm around your shoulder, his chin on it too— watching you write. Maybe he was drunk? Nah, that wasn’t him.*
“Hey, babes— what’re you writin’?”
"I'm writing things down for the extermination Sir"
*You said looking at your paper not leaving your eyes off of it*
“You ain’t gotta be so tense hun,”
*He said, nuzzling his chin into your neck and shoulders a little further. He let out a slight chuckle.*
“You’re always being so serious. Chill out.”
"I'm sorry Sir"
*You said looking down at him in your shoulder.*
“You don’t gotta apologize love! I was just messin with ya! God knows how important your job is! But you can’t do your job right if you’re all stressed out right? Relax a little! Let yourself just…”
*He put a finger under your chin, and lifted your head so you were forced to look into his eyes. You felt as if you were melting under his piercing gaze, his eyes seeming to command you.*
"Just…?"
*You said while under his spell that he put you in.*
*He giggled when you trailed off.*
“Just be a little more relaxed sweetie! You’re doin a great job, and I’ll make sure everyone knows that.”
*He said, still not letting you break your gaze from him. You noticed though, that one of his hands was now sliding down your shoulder, down down further…*
*You were just looking at him still under his beautiful spell*
*The hand was now halfway down your back, and he leaned in even closer. His nose was brushing up against yours, his breath hot and stuffy as he whispered into your ear.*
“Do you know what else I’m gonna do besides let everyone know how much you rock at your job, my dear?”
"What else?"
*You asked drunken with his scent. Going closer to him almost brushing his lips against yours.*
*Adam chuckled. He was just waiting for you to break and kiss him.*
“You… are gonna relax with me for the remainder of this long and tedious afternoon.
*He brushed his lips up against yours softly, his eyes still firmly locked onto yours. But he didn’t kiss you. He was just teasing and waiting for you to lean into him first.*
"Alright Sir"
*You said while you licked his lips.*
*Adams eyes widened and his breath hitched at the tease. He pulled you into his lap, keeping his hand on the small of your back.*
“That’s better, my sweet, sweet angel…”
"What are you going to do to me Sir?"
“That all depends on how cooperative you are, my dear.”
*He leaned his forehead to yours, and you could feel his body heat on your body.*
“All you gotta do is follow my lead, and all I ask from you is that you… is that you obey me…”
"Of course. Anything for you Sir"
*He smirked and finally pressed his lips to yours, you deeply as his other hand moved to your hip, squeezing it lightly. It was like the world around you disappeared, all there was, was just you. You were his.*
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emmasbrain · 1 month
Text
Miscommunication (the fun kind)
Part 1 | Part 2
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Warnings: slight alcohol consumption? i think that’s all, nothing NSFW in this one
Synopsis: Your good friend Penelope sees you in a bar and begs you to sit with her and her work friends. You realise you like one. She also realises you like one. She however, thinks you like the wrong one.
The moment Penelope spotted you, she gasped. “Oh my god!” You spun round on your seat on the bar towards her running over to you in unrunnable heels, a brilliant smile gracing her face and a surprised one falling to yours as you saw each other.
“Penelope?” You hopped off your bar stool and pulled her into a hug. “It’s been too long darlin’. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in years.” You gushed, definitely over exaggerating your circumstances.
“Didn’t we go for coffee last Thursday?” She giggles, and you see the familiar glint in her eye that she only got after a couple of margaritas.
“Like I said, years!” You giggled right back, and she held your hands, leaning in towards you more.
“Who are you here with?” She questioned, looking around.
You shrugged casually, “I came with some girls from work, but they all left with guys and I decided to drink my loneliness away… Except I haven’t actually had a drink yet because I’ve been sitting here debating whether I really want to drink alone.” Your words, though holding a little weight, came out with a laugh and a self deprecating sigh.
Penelope gave you a look, and you knew she was brewing something. “What if… you come sit with us?” Before you can ask questions or protest, she continues, “You know I’ve always wanted to introduce you to the team, which is who I’m here with, and it would be good for you too ‘cus it means you can drink not on your own.” She gives you puppy dog eyes, and clasps her hands together waiting for your answer.
You relent, deciding the sooner you had an interaction with her FBI friends the sooner it was over. You had heard some things, and they seemed lovely, but they were her friends and you had the feeling you wouldn’t be very welcome with your job as a journalist. “Okay fine, but you can’t mention my job. I don’t want them to hate me on the first impression.”
“It’s okay they know, I told them ages ago about what you do. Alright you stay here, I’ll go tell them and then I can introduce you.” She was practically buzzing, so excited you could see it in the air around her. She shuffled away happily, and came back to drag you over a moment later.
As you approached the group, she introduced you in order of where they sat around the table. “That’s JJ, Derek, David, Hotch, Emily, and Spencer. Everybody, this is my friend Y/N.” She smiles all big and goofy and then scrunches up her face in disappointment. “There’s no chairs left.”
You take this as an opportunity. “Well, I suppose that means I should g-“
“Here, you can have mine. I’ll grab one from over there.” Spencer quickly finds a solution, standing to walk over to an unused table and fetch another chair. You follow him with your eyes as he lifts it over. Doctor Spencer Reid. Penelope had mentioned the man on multiple occasions. Ever the problem solver, you gathered from her ramblings on the things he would do and say.
Penelope sits in the chair between JJ and Derek, and the latter lets his arm rest on Penelope’s shoulders. As you sit down in Spencer’s sacrificed chair, he pulls another one in between you and JJ, and you both awkwardly smile at each other before you look down to your hands in your lap. “Thank you.” You whisper to him.
“What for?” He whispers back.
“The chair.” You mumble, and he nods.
“It’s no problem.”
“Okay, I say we get some drinks. How bout it, pretty girl?” Derek's words snap you from your awkwardness, and you smile, realising he’s given you a nickname already.
“I am in dire need of a beer.” You reply, and Emily looks at you from your right.
“Beer, huh? I woulda coined you for a vodka redbull kinda girl. All for the thrills.” She looks at you with a smirk and you shake your head with a giggle.
“I’m normally a whiskey kinda girl actually, I get that from my parents. I only very rarely drink vodka, it just makes me want to make out with people.” The embarrassment soaks in the moment the words come out of your mouth and you realise you’ve just told a group of behavioural analysts that vodka makes you horny.
“Alcohol oftentimes does have the effect of making you sexually confident and can heighten feelings of affection and make you more open to try things sexually. One could assume that your specific set of hormones are just more affected by the chemicals in vodka in comparison to other alcohols.” Spencer pulls his lips into a straight line, and you giggle at his readily available information. Penelope wasn’t joking.
“Thanks, Doc.” You bump his shoulder, and he looks a little confused but mumbles a “No problem” anyway. As he looks away towards Derek and Penelope, you take the chance to study his features discreetly. The angle of his jaw perfectly contrasts the softness of his eyes, the honey brown colour almost sparkling within the dim lighting of the bar. His cheeks are tinged pink from the currently inaudible teasing from Derek, and there’s a little smile on his lips that you could almost envision yourself kissing.
Derek breaks you out of your head a second time. “Hey pretty girl, you wanna go get those drinks now?” He flashes you a grin and you smile, nodding.
“Yea let’s do it. Does everyone know what they want?” As you’re trying to split everyone’s orders between you and Derek, Penelope gives you a look that says “do you have the hots for my friend?” and you give her a look back that says “maybe..” she gasps and the whole table turns to look at her, making her realise that she’d turned the conversation into an out loud one now.
“You know what? Us girls can handle those drinks, Derek. Why don’t you have a seat.” She drags you up to the bar and orders quickly before she forgets, and then whips round to face you.
“You like him. I saw it on your face. You like him!!” She whisper shouts and you glance back to Derek and Spencer hunched over the table chatting. You smile.
“Look at him! Of course I like him, who wouldn’t like him? He’s simultaneously cute and hot and I swear men aren’t supposed to work like that.” You whisper shout back at her, and her smiles sadly.
“I wish I could set you up, but he’s taken. And his girlfriend is amazing so I can’t even be mad about it.” She sighs, and you slightly deflate.
“Oh man, I can’t believe the first time in years that I actually want a guy he’s taken. Just my luck, I suppose.” You laugh, and grab the drinks that have been sat on the bar. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” You shrug your shoulders and head back over to the table with her, handing everyone their drinks and sitting back next to Spencer to sip your own.
After an hour or so, conversation was going a tad dry, and you decided to use an old icebreaker your college roommate had taught you to get things flowing again. “Okay, one after the other I want everyone to tell the group something embarrassing. It can be anything, as long as it’s about you.” Everyone nods in agreement, and Derek starts.
“There was this one time I was flirting with a girl while I was out with my mom. Now that was my first mistake, my mom comes over and starts talkin to this girl askin if she’s my girlfriend. I said momma I’ve only just met her, and she said ‘well then you better hurry up, this girl is far too beautiful for you to pass up’. Before I could even speak, the girl says ‘I think you’re too beautiful to pass up’. She was talkin to my mom! And I just thought hey maybe she’s just tryna get on moms good side, you know? You win over mom, you win over me. But then she spent 10 minutes flirting with my mother until I had to drag her away. My mom will not stop bringing it up just to mock me.”
Spencer cracked up beside you at the story, and you couldn't help laughing a little with him.
Penelope pipes in, “Tell them when this happened.” He grimaces.
“Last year.” He barely says it loud enough to hear, but you all catch it and it sends you all into a fit of laughter.
Rossi reminisces about the time he proposed to one of his ex wives, and she said no. In public. Then later in the day said yes, telling him she just wanted to embarrass him the way his public proposal had embarrassed her.
Hotch talks of the time he finished work early and decided to pick up Jack from school. The teacher had asked him if he was Jack’s grandfather, and he had to explain that he most definitely was not.
“I once hugged my friend from behind to tell her goodbye at a party. It wasn’t my friend.” Is all Emily gives for details. She grimaces at the sheer memory of it, and you can’t help the little smile that graces your lips.
“My turn then?” You question the group, and they nod. “I probably should’ve used this time to think of what I was gonna say. Well I suppose I’ll use the only one that’s currently present in my mind,” You turn to face Spencer, “I was gonna ask you out before Penelope had to drag me away and tell me you were taken. Which was slightly embarrassing for me in the moment, but as I’m saying this I realise I’ve just embarrassed myself even more.” You nod through your internal pain at how stupid you felt, and took a deep breath before trying to move on. Spencer looked too taken aback to let that happen.
“You were gonna ask me out? And Penelope told you I was in a relationship? Why would she do that?” He looks plain confused now, and you mirror his expression.
“I never told you Spencer was in a relationship. I told you Derek was in a relationship, because I thought he was the friend you said you liked! Wait. So when you said he was hot you meant Spencer?” Now even Penelope looked confused, although not exactly for the same reason you were.
“Yes! Of course I meant Spencer! No offence Derek, you’re lovely but you’re not my type.” You rushed, giving him a sheepish smile.
“And I am?” Spencer speaks again.
“Pretty much yea.” The smile he gives you at your words makes you look away nervously.
“So what you mean is that if you hadn’t been told I was taken I could have went on a date with you?” He’s looking inquisitively at your face now, tracing for signs of a lie as he waits for you to respond.
“You still could go on a date with me.” You suggest, with a little shrug and a smile that reaches your eyes.
“I’d like that.” He nods, slightly enthusiastic but trying to play it cool.
“Me too.” You nod with him. “I should probably be heading home, I have work I still need to catch up on. But I could give you my number and you could take me to your favourite place or something. Somewhere I can get to know you just from looking around.” You suggest, gathering your things and scribbling your number down on a spare napkin.
“That sounds good- great. That sounds great.” His eyes are filled with a mixture of excitement and something else you’re not sure about, but the look on his face makes you smile.
“Call me then.” You nod finally, getting up to leave. You give everyone their goodbyes, hugging them all lightly and giving Spencer a little wave.
Over the next few days the anticipation of his call is almost overwhelming. And when your phone begins to ring, an unfamiliar number popping up on the screen, you bite your nail before clicking the answer button. “Hello?”
“Hi.”
A/N: I don’t actually really like this, but it’s fine. I wanna do a part two, someone tell me to do a part two plsplsplspls. (May rewrite this once i’m not jet lagged and cramming it between studying but idk)
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hairyjocktf · 2 months
Text
Building a New Life
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Justin was the star wrestler at his high school. He had won regional titles and the adoration of all the local families for years, and was ready to head to college to continue his streak. Senior year he was at his peak, winning matches left and right. All he had to do was wait for those recruitment offers to roll in. He waited and waited, still kicking ass in his wrestling, but while everyone around him was committing and getting accepted, there were no letters to him. To his dismay, one never came. His plans for the future were shattered, what was he supposed to do now? The wrestling scholarship was his only shot for college.
With the year ending and not many options, Justin started looking for entry level jobs that would take him. He lived in a fairly rural area so most of what he found was either farm work or construction, and the latter paid better. He called one of them up and they told him to swing by the site a few days later. He drove out to the construction site later that week and walked into the mobile office they had there. The manager came out to greet him. He was a rugged man in his late 40’s, with a stocky build and thick stubble. He’d clearly been in the business for years and it showed through his worn hands and gruff voice from yelling orders at his lackeys. The man looked Justin up and down.
“A little scrawny but I can work with it,” he said after a few seconds.
“I was a top wrestler in the region!” Justin protested. 
“Doesn’t matter in this industry,” the man said flatly. “Can you handle heavy loads and equipment? Can you deal with being outside most of the day in rough weather?”
Justin was caught off guard, usually people were much nicer to him. “Of course I can! I can handle whatever you throw at me,” he assured.
“Well alright, If you think you can handle it let’s see how you do here,” the manager said, handing a pile of clothes to Justin. “Here’s your safety and HiVis gear, make sure it fits and then we’ll get you set up outside.”
Justin took his uniform to the bathroom to try it on real quick. It included a hard hat that was adjustable, which he fit to his head, a bright orange and yellow HiVis vest, and a couple other things. He put it all on and stepped back into the office. 
“Alright follow me, Justin was it?” the manager gestured towards the door.
“Yes sir,” Justin responded uncharacteristically.
“Name’s Blaine, the manager revealed, “Around here we usually work on residential projects, we’re currently assisting on a development outside of town.” He led them away from the office around the immediate site, which currently seemed to be mostly used as storage for equipment and materials. “Since you’ve got no experience you’ll start by shadowing some of our guys for a few weeks and handling more basic tasks til you’re ready for more,” he continued. “You can head back to the office and they'll take care of the nitty gritty for ya. I’m expecting great things from you, wrestler,” Blaine laughed as he left Justin and headed out towards the development. Justin heard his gruff voice booming in the distance as he barked orders to the workers.
Justin was unsure about all of this, but he didn’t really have a better option at the moment. He felt out of place in his new safety gear, and he was younger than nearly everyone he saw working. He took care of the paperwork and headed home for the day; they'd hired him on the spot to start the next morning. With considerable unease, he went to bed, closing one chapter of his life for the next. 
As the weeks went by Justin began acclimating to this new job fairly well. He got to know the guys he worked with, learned how to use the equipment, and began to feel comfortable on the site. He even felt like he had put on some mass to better handle all the physical work he was doing. His rock solid abs were a little less visible than they had been but for some reason that didn’t bother him. He was already starting to forget the sting of not being recruited for wrestling. Every day he came into work those past dreams seemed to fade a little more, replaced by his new life. His coworkers had made fun of him for having such a baby face at the beginning, but now he was starting to sport a little bit of stubble. Justin was slowly starting to blend in more with his new crowd.
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The months continued to pass, with Justin becoming more and more entrenched in his new construction life. It was getting colder outside, and his body began to adjust without him even noticing. His stubble grew out into a real beard, short and dense. He began packing on more body fat as he spent less and less time at the gym and more and more working and drinking with his new bros. His voice began to sound a little deeper and rougher, matching those around him. The hard hat really suited him now with his more rugged looks. He had never been a good student in school but he seemed to really be taking to this new job, completely forgetting about his old goals. The occassional approving nod from Blaine was driving him forward. He was thriving in this new position, but the job wasn’t done with him yet.
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Unbeknownst to Justin, under his thick winter clothes things were changing. His previously toned body, while still fairly muscular, was steadily becoming thicker with fat. Not only that, but he’d always been near perfectly smooth and that too was slowly changing. It had started with his chest, where on the previously bare skin thin wispy hairs had started to poke out. That didn’t last long though, as they were quickly overrun with thicker, darker hairs that began sprouting in between his pecs. They grew curly as they spread out, covering his entire chest in hair, spreading up across his collarbone and down across his slowly growing stomach. The new hairy coat was just another part of his insulation against the harsh winter weather. But the hairs didn’t stop there either. His pits erupted with thick wiry hairs, coating his underarms in curly hairs that trapped both heat and sweat. The hairs pushed out, tangling together as they formed a thick tuft of hair under each arm, even spreading out to connect with the rug on his chest. After each day of hard work he’d come home stinking like the other men he worked with, and over time he started to enjoy the musk he produced.
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Of course he wasn’t done filling out his uniform quite yet. His formerly modest bush began growing with no end in sight, engulfing his groin in thick, wiry brown hairs that radiated out from his lengthening cock. Sometimes while on the site Justin would instinctively reach down in his pants to itch the growing bush, the feeling and texture of it driving him wild. With pubes erupting day and night his musk only grew stronger, as Justin began to truly have a manly aura around him that he’d never had before. It seemed to help him bond with the other guys more, as they welcomed him into their groups and invited him out more and more frequently. Underneath his work pants his legs bulked up considerably from carrying all sorts of materials around, followed closely by the same dark fur. It raced down his legs and coated them with curly hairs that rubbed against the inside of his increasingly tight jeans as he walked around, an almost arousing feeling. Within the first year of working Justin had gone up four sizes in his work boots, as his feet grew and widened to match the rest of him. The massive steel-toed boots hid how hairy his feet had gotten, with dark hairs covering the tops and toes.
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The next year was largely the same. Justin continued slowly changing to better fit his new job. He was really beginning to excel at it, and he’d attained a close friendship with many of the men he worked with. It almost seemed as if he’d aged ten years over the last one, he certainly looked it at this point. His fur coat only thickened, growing even denser across his chest and stomach to the point you could barely see the skin beneath the hairs. Hair had also spread up and onto his shoulders before enveloping his massive back. The hairs gushed out across his shoulder blades before shooting down his spine and spreading out wide. The heavy coating slowly grew thicker and spread out further as time went on, reaching down to his ass. It too became covered with thick, dark hairs as it inflated to a truly massive size. During the warmer months sometimes he just wore his vest and hard hat, his incredibly thick hair covering the rest of him and sticking through his vest.
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Justin earned the nickname ‘Grizzly’ from his coworkers after they saw how hairy he’d gotten, and his body had put on the size to match. Gone was the small but toned body of a wrestler, replaced by a thick, hairy, and sturdy body of a weathered construction worker. He oozed masculinity from not only his stained and dirty work clothes, but from the thick chest hair that he left his shirt open to show off. His entire body was now coated with a dense coat of hair and he liked to make that known, as long as he wasn’t caught against safety regulations at least. He never questioned why he’d changed so much in such a short span, it never even occurred to him, and honestly he liked his new life. He was just one of the guys working on the site now. The hair felt as natural to him as anything else, and the other guys seemed to like it even if they made fun of him once in a while. Occasionally when they went out drinking some of the guys would have too many beers and start rubbing their hands through his thick fur, but he didn’t mind at all. It felt good to be masculine, and to be appreciated for it by other guys. Months continued to pass though no one could really remember how long Justin had been working there at this point, but they were all glad he was there. He was the best construction worker on their team.
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thestoryofusstan · 3 months
Text
Uptown Girl
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pairing: fashion designer!harry x younger!fashion designer!reader
summary: you’re working in a designer boutique, and just so happen to have a late entrance when world-renowned designer harry styles visits for a collaboration. he seems to take a liking to you, and you aren’t sure if that makes you relieved or more anxious
warnings: some cursing, not edited as usual
-
harry styles was a well-known name. ceo and founder of pleasing, a nail polish and perfume company. he also owned many other companies, but really, there were too many to keep track of. he was also, most importantly, one of the biggest fashion icons.
you were very familiar with him— had saved up every penny when you were younger to buy a pleasing perfume and now owned a very small collection of their nail polishes.
so, of course, you lost your shit when you found out he’d be coming into your job.
you were a fashion design major at nyu, and had gotten a job at a very esteemed designer (not one of the name brands, but still). although you did expect the job to have more opportunities to.. actually design fashion, you were still grateful nonetheless.
it was just your luck that the day that harry styles was coming in, you were late. it wasn’t your fault! really, it wasn’t! you were always on time because you got anxious at the mere thought of being late.
by the time you parked, you practically ran to the store, silently praying you wouldn’t break a leg as you were running in heels.
“i’m not late am i?” you ask breathlessly as you finally enter the store, fixing your hair and outfit.
you had curled your hair the night before, so they were still pretty much intact. your outfit consisted of black heels, brown dress pants, and a black, tight-fitting turtleneck.
“yes, y/n. you are late,” your boss gave you a look, and you knew you’d be in trouble. “mr. styles, i am so sorry. our employs are.. usually punctual.”
your head snaps over to look in the direction she was talking, and your heart drops when you make eye contact with harry styles.
great.
“mr. styles, i am so sorry,” you apologize.
“it’s perfectly alright,” he gives a kind smile.
that makes you feel a bit better.
“y/n, a word in my office please.”
you deflate as you look back to your boss and follow her to her office
the second the door is closed, she’s chewing you out.
“how unprofessional can you be? i know you are in college, but jesus christ!”
“i’m sorry! there was so much traffic, and my car is so old it stops working if i go faster than 50, and—“
“i don’t need excuses,” she cuts you off. “i need you to be more professional.”
you inhale, “i am sorry, but it was not my fault. i have never once been late before, and you know that. it was a one-time mistake.”
“it better be.”
she walks out and slams the door to the office, leaving you alone in there.
you look up to the ceiling as you bite your lip and try not to cry.
after taking a few minutes to collect yourself, you walk back out into the otherwise empty store and slap a smile on your face.
you do your usual tasks of tidying the store and fixing the mannequins.
mr. styles, his team, and your boss (her name was diane but she was more like satan) were all working on sketching designs and throwing some fabrics onto the mannequins to get a rough idea of what they wanted.
“i don’t know if i like it,” mr. styles murmurs, staring at the mannequin. you glace over at it and have to force yourself to not make a face.
no shit, he didn’t like it. it was bad.
the sketch was good, but the color combination was all wrong and the whole thing was too.. chunky. in the way that everything was flowy and baggy, so it had no shape.
“well, what do you not like about it?” diane asks.
“i’m not sure. it doesn’t look quite right.”
“you have to fix the shape,” you say to yourself as you fix the files of custom orders to be done.
“what was that?”
your head snaps up, and you realize he heard you.
“oh. uh.. i was just—“
“talking to herself,” diane interrupts, glaring at you. “she’s an intern. don’t mind her.”
“no, i’d like to hear what she has to say. might have the answer to our issue. let’s hear it— what was your name again?”
“y/n l/n,” you squeak out.
“well, y/n, what do you think is wrong?”
you hesitantly walk over, “well.. i can see the idea. but it’s just not.. executed well. the whole thing is too flowy.”
“isn’t the point for it to flow?” he asks, raising a brow.”
“it is,” you answer quickly, “but.. there has to be something that isn’t as.. baggy, i suppose. something has to be tight-fitting. it doesn’t have any shape. it just kinda.. looks like a box.”
he stares at you for a moment, and diane clears her throat.
“y/n, this is time for the professionals. get back to—“
“no, diane. she is.. she’s right. it does need shape.”
at his words, the people around him begin to pin it differently.
“and the colors,” you rush out. “the colors don’t.. it’s supposed to be a statement piece, right?”
“that’s the goal,” he nods.
“well.. the colors are too.. light. they’re more pastel, which is fine, but for it to really be a statement, it’s better to use brighter ones. or at least make one of them brighter. i would.. i think make the base the brighter one.”
diane looks ready to kill you.
mr. styles laughs, “well, don’t you know a lot? diane, where did you find her? wish my interns knew half as much as her.”
your face grows hot.
“she’s a student,” diane sighs.
“a student?” he asks.
“i… uh.. i study fashion at nyu. fashion design— i’m in my last year.”
he seems to sense that you're damn near about to shit your pants, because he grins at you (slightly patronizing, but also kind), before turning back to diane.
"i'd like her to be with me for the rest of the project. y/n, darling, how much are y'makin' here?"
your stutter, "uh--... $15 an hour."
he tuts his tongue like that's horrible, "i'll pay.. ten times that while y'workin' with me."
your eyes widen, "wh-- that's not-- you don't have to--"
"nonsense. it's what most people i work with start with. i'll up it if needed, of course. and you obviously don't have to, but i'd love your insight."
"i-- no, i-- i'd love to, i.."
"great," he grins, and you're extremely dizzy. what the hell was going on?
"uh.. mr. styles, if i may give my opinion," diane pipes up.
"you may," he eyes her skeptically.
"y/n is a student. she's still learning, and she's never worked on anything here. it's very risky to--"
he cuts her off by asking you a question, "have you designed things? sketched 'em out and all that?"
you nod.
"i'd hope you've also done the whole... actually sewing things together and really making them?"
you nod again.
he turns back to diane, "seems like she's got experience," he looks back to you, "do y'have photos of any of those?"
"yeah-- they're.. i think i left them in my car. i have photos on my phone."
"we'll meet later to look at all that, then. i'll give you my number later. for now.. i'd like your input on our other ideas."
-
for the rest of the day, you follow harry around, and you sort of feel like a lost puppy just following him around and answering when he asks something of you.
after a while, you got more comfortable giving your input without being prompted, but you always tiptoed around what you were really trying to get at in fear that you'd anger him.
at the end of day, he put your number in his phone with the promise that he'd text you later about more details.
-
the text came three days later.
From: (Maybe): Harry
Hello, Y/N. This is Harry. Would you be free to meet tomorrow at noon to discuss the details of the project? Please bring your sketches and any photos of designs you've done, and anything else you feel necessary.
To: Harry Styles
Hi! I should be free tomorrow, yeah. Where do you want to go?
From: Harry Styles
I'll let you decide.
To: Harry Styles
There is this one coffee shop named Maman?
Sent Location: 239 Centre St, New York, NY
From: Harry Styles
Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N. Have a nice rest of your day.
To: Harry Styles
You too!
-
you spend the rest of your night fretting about what to wear. you were stuck in between classy but not too fancy, but also not too casual. comfy, but not so comfy that you looked like you didn't give a shit. but also not so uncomfortable that you were, well, uncomfortable, and looked like you were trying too hard.
you'd eventually settled for something simple. long, light-wash denim skirt, a plain black top, and some mary janes. you tied some of your hair back with a white ribbon, did some natural makeup, and called it a day.
you got to the coffee shop at 11:45 and ordered your drink, as well as a chocolate croissant.
harry walked in at exactly 12:00, and grinned when he saw you sitting at a table, scrolling on your phone with a manilla folder and sketchbook beside you.
-
really, you can't blame him! you were pretty, he'd have to be blind to not know that. and really, you weren't that much younger than him.
he's 29, and you're 23. he's not a stalker, he just did a background check like any good business person would do.
so what he finds you cute? the relationship would be strictly professional. besides, you deserved a break from your horrible boss. contrary to what diane thought, the walls were not soundproof, and he could hear her chewing you out.
sure, he'd done that to one of his employees once or twice, but it was always deserved, and never on the first time of being late. that was ridiculous.
"good morning, y/n," he greets. your head snaps up to make eye contact and he has to force himself to not laugh. he wasn't laughing at you, per se. it was more so the fact that he found it amusing how jumpy you seemed around him.
"good morning. did you order?"
"not yet. never been here, so i've got no clue what's good."
you open your mouth to respond, but the barista calls out, "large iced honey lavender latte with a pain au chocolat for y/n!"
you give a sheepish smile and run up to retrieve your food and drink. when you come back, you take a sip of your drink and set what looks to be a chocolate croissant down on the table.
"well, i'm more of an iced coffee girl. and i also don't really like the taste of coffee, so i've got a bunch of sugar in mine. what do you usually drink?"
"'m more of a black coffee, to be honest. iced is fine, but hot's better."
you wrinkle your nose, "i don't know how you stand the taste of coffee. it's so bitter."
"better than what you've got!" he laughs, "might as well just down a sugar packet."
you giggle at his teasing, "only psychos drink plain black coffee. this," you hold up your drink, "is so much better."
"oh, is it now?"
"yes, it is," you cross your arms proudly.
"lemme have a taste."
you hand over the drink, and he takes a small sip before coughing, "christ, y/n! that cannot be good for your health!"
"hey, i'm still alive, aren't i?" you shrug.
“that you are.”
“well… just ask for an americano, i guess. the rest of their drinks are kinda sugary and fun.”
he got his drink, and once the both of you were sat down, he got to business.
“so, how long have you been designing?”
“i’ve been doing it since middle school. i.. uh.. i saw that one american girl doll movie. where she was a designer. and i just got obsessed. obviously they weren’t good, but…”
“so you’ve got a lot of experience then?”
you nod. he grins.
“may i see the sketches?”
you grab the folder off the top of the sketchbook and pass it over to him.
he flips through it in silence for a few minutes, and you anxiously nibble at the skin around your fingernails.
“..so?” you ask.
“they’re great. really, you’ve got talent. i can’t draw for shit, so you’ve got me beat,” he laughs.
you laugh with him, “most of those are just ideas, i’ve never made them. but i have photos of the ones i have made. i printed them so it’s easier.”
you pass over the manilla folder, and he opens it to look at all the photos you’d printed out. there was around fifty— those were just the ones you actually liked and were confident showing.
he holds one up, and your cheeks flush. “why’s this the only one where you’re the model?” he asks.
“that was.. uh.. that’s my senior prom dress.”
his eyes widen, giving you an impressed look, “you made your own prom dress?”
you nod, “i just wanted something very specific, so.. i figured i’d just make it myself.”
“y’look great— the dress looks great,” he coughs. “you’re very talented.”
“thank you,” you blush.
“so tell me why someone as talented as you is working in diane’s shop not designing a single thing?”
“i didn’t realize that was the job. i just got excited when my professor told me they were interested in my work, so i took the job. i thought i’d at least do a little designing, but.. it pays.. decent, though.”
he scoffs, “darling, 15 bucks an hour is not decent pay. that’s what you make being a hostess. you’re an artist. someone would pay thousands of dollars for just your sketches.”
“i don’t think i’m that good—“
“you are,” he’s firm. resolute. there is no room for argument with him. “i think you’ll be a great asset to the project. i could use your… talent. i’ll send you an email with the nitty gritty details. i’ll see you soon, y/n.”
and with that, he stands and leaves, leaving you to sit there, dumbfounded, confused, and grinning.
-
a/n: guys i have too many series going on 😭😭
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look-at-the-soul · 3 months
Text
Every little thing you do- Part 1
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series Master list
✨So first part is finally here!! Please be aware this part is set to happen in different days therefore you’ll see a little divider in the middle… and also! There’s violence. Please note I’m trying to follow the ideas/education from back in the day so it won’t necessary fit for today’s way of seeing things.
Word count: 2,977
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Waving her sister goodbye, Y/N headed outside. But to her surprise she found Scott stopping his vehicle.
“Hello sweetheart.” He greeted her with a quick kiss on her lips, she stepped back immediately in case her mother was watching behind the curtains.
“Scott, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“We’ll I lied and said I felt sick to get out earlier.”
This wasn’t something he’d do, but she listened to his explanation.
“I wanted to see you.”
Y/N looked over her shoulder, her parents were strict.
“You know you’re only invited for lunch and tea on Sundays.”
“I know, I know.” He moved back retrieving something from the car. “Got you these.”
“I love them, thank you.” Y/N pressed the bouquet of flowers against her chest, the fresh aroma invading her, a smile growing in her lips.
“Why don’t you go back inside and put them in water? Then meet me at the bakery around the corner.”
“Where are we going?”
Scott gave her a wide smile that took her breath away. “It’s a surprise, you’ll like it.”
Butterflies got spread all over her stomach, the expectation building. She hurried to the unexpected date.
“Listen, I want to apologize for acting shitty the other day.” Scott announced. “Can you forgive me love?”
Y/N nodded eagerly, pleased by his change of heart.
“It’s alright, just be careful next time.” Y/N suggested as he drove.
“Careful?”
“You shouldn’t have talked Tommy that way.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “There you go again, defending him. This why we fight.”
“No, Scott I don’t want a war between you two all the time, he didn’t like the way you talked to me.”
“Why does he always sticks his bloody nose in our business?”
“It’s not like that.”
“He’s always standing in the middle, I’m sick of getting orders from him, he leaves me the worst jobs just to please himself, he’s got people to do those things. I thought they wanted me to do other things, not to clean horses shit.”
“Scott I can’t interfere in your role among the gang, he already has done more than enough.”
“There it is, you’re defending him instead of being on my side…”
Y/N realized how unintentionally she always put Tommy on a pedestal, her boyfriend was right, feeling like he was belittled. She knew Tommy didn’t like him, and there was a possibility that she wasn’t impartial.
“I’ll see what I can do.” She finally gave in, not wanting to spend their time together fighting.
“That’s my girl.” He stopped the car on the sideway and began to shower her face with soft kisses.
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”Do you need anything else?” Lizzie walked around the desk, resting against the bookshelf.
“What happened with the contracts you couldn’t find?” Tommy asked leaning back on his chair.
“Arthur took them by mistake.”
“Keep those locked.” He pointed a finger at her.
“Are you going to Karl’s birthday party?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, but Tommy wasn’t looking at her.
“Yes, in a minute.”
Lizzie looked down at him again, hoping he’d ask her to join him.
“Heard Ada bought a huge cake.”
Tommy took his briefcase and hummed nonchalantly.
“I wrapped you a present for Karl, take it before you leave.”
She didn’t get a response.
Giving up to her wishes to be invited with the Shelby family, Lizzie shook her head. Collecting the remains of her dignity from the floor.
Tommy followed her with his eyes as she stomped her foot on her way out but dismissed it a few seconds later, not understanding her attitude.
The office was quiet when he crossed it, everyone had headed home already and his family were already in Polly’s house.
This was the first time he left considerably early in a long time. The need to release some stress made him reach for a cigarette. He had a dozen of things to do, a trip to London in the upcoming days, visit one of the fabrics… before he realized, Tommy parked outside Polly’s property.
Karl’s celebration was a rare family gathering. For his brothers birthdays they’d usually went to camp close to the river and drink all night. He wasn’t used to paper decorations and chocolate cake.
A small figure crashed against his legs. “Oh oh.”
Looking down, he found one of John’s kids. Was this Kate? Or Barbara?
“Careful.”
“There you are.” John appeared with a sandwich in his hand. “Go with your siblings.” He instructed his daughter.
“John.” Tommy called him mysteriously, with his hand motioning his brother to step closer. “Wipe your fucking mouth, you’ve got chocolate all over it.”
Stepping into the living room, he joined his family.
“Uncle Tommy!” Karl ran towards him with his arms open.
Tommy rubbed the kid’s back and offered him his present. “Happy birthday Karl.”
“Thank you!”
“Looks like you owe me money Pol.” Ada chuckled as she helped her son open his present.
Tommy looked from his sister to his aunt, studying them.
“Damn it. I thought he wasn’t going to show up.”
“So you made a bet?” He asked in disbelief.
He usually wouldn’t. But when it came to his sister, he made an effort.
“Where’s Y/N?” Polly asked with a frown.
“I sent her the invitation, thought you’d arrive together.” Ada explained staring at her brother.
But Tommy shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen or heard from her.”
“Shit! Pol! Help me out here!” John shouted holding his son James in his arms, he was bleeding and crying. “Smashed his fucking head.”
As Ada rushed to get some clean towels, Polly tried to comfort the child.
Stepping away from the chaos, Tommy leaned against a column to think he actually hadn’t seen Y/N in almost a week. A million thoughts filling his mind, trying to find a reason for her to be distant.
He needed to know if she was alright because she had always been close to the family, she was always considered part of it to all their gatherings; she was there for them at Freddy’s funeral, at John’s wedding…
“Now that we’re here all together, I’ve something to say.” Arthur announced stepping on a chair, oblivious that Esme and Polly were taking care of a bleeding child.
As the room went quiet, Arthur announced he and Linda were expecting a baby.
“Congratulations.” Esme managed to blurr through gritted teeth. “Now help me hold James, because I need to rearrange his arm.”
As Arthur walked past Tommy, his brother patted his arm and mumbled a low congratulations.
But the thought of Y/N not being with them, stuck in his head.
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Y/N felt like sleeping on the couch. Her feet were swollen, Lady Winchester lost one of her precious earrings and decided to put everyone in the search until they found it under her vanity hours later.
Oddly her family decided to stay up late apparently as she could see the candles still on. But just as she set one foot inside, her mother pushed her abruptly.
“You’re a dishonorable daughter! We gave you everything!” One of her hands intended to land on her cheek but hit her on her ear instead.
“What happened?”
“Y-your aunt says you’re with a child, she saw you this morning and came to ask me.” Y/N’s mother was furious.
A woman came into view, her sister poking her head from the kitchen as her mother pushed her into the room next to it and closed the door. She demanded Y/N to undress and started touching her breasts.
“She’s with a child.” The elder woman confirmed, her hands still on her breasts.
Y/N’s face got paler by the second. Her mother gave the woman money and asked discretion.
A heavy silence filled the room, Y/N could hear a pin drop if someone threw one. Dizziness swept over her as her palms started to sweat.
“Your father will be so disappointed by you.” Her mother sentenced firmly. “You’re a whore, this sin will follow you from now on.”
Blood went to Y/N’s feet and she had to grab the vanity for support.
“You’ll tell Scott tomorrow and get him to ask your father’s permission to marry you before you start showing.” Y/N could hear her mother’s words as if she was underwater.
“I’ll save him the embarrassment, perhaps you can go to your grandmother’s house and hide there…” she was pacing the room as a maniac, Y/N was starting to process everything, she could hardly breathe.
“I didn’t know I could get pregnant without being married.”
Y/N’s mother laughed sarcastically. “It’s too late for that now, you should’ve waited until you got married!”
“You never told me this could happen.” Y/N felt on the edge of tears.
“I educated you with values, God only knows what you learned from that friend of yours.” Her mother mumbled something else Y/N couldn’t understand. Slowly she sat on the carpet, her skirt pooled around her hips and she finally sobbed. When one day Scott touched her breasts and it felt nice, electricity ran through her body. But he stopped right there. Then after taking her to the river, one of his hands sneaked under her skirt and moved her intimate clothes to the side and her body trembled. A week after that, he was about to start a fight with Tommy, for the night when they arrived after visiting Tommy’s new house. So in an attempt to make up for that fight, he took her to the river again and after kissing her, he told her he wanted to do something else. It had been over a month since she stepped in the middle of Tommy and Scott.
Y/N didn’t know she could feel such pleasure until he introduced himself into her body and she exploded of ecstasy. It felt right, he said he loved her and they went back a few days later.
Scott had said this should be between just the two of them, just as their love. But he never told her she could get pregnant.
Worry kept her up all night. She felt sorry for her poor father.
Covering her face with her hands, Y/N felt the tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.
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“Scott,” Y/N breathed with relief, all the worry from the past days when she hadn’t been able to reach out soon, forgotten. “I need to talk to you.”
“Y/N… I’ve to rest, haven’t had a decent sleep yet. Can we talk about this another day?” He had been out of the city, busy with God knows what, but this was important for her, for them, for their future.
Y/N studied their surroundings carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking she placed her hands on his shoulders.
“We’re going to have a child, Scott I’m carrying your baby.” She whispered.
Scott blinked unamused by the news, his nostrils expanding profusely. Y/N wanted to reach out, to throw herself in his arms but as they were outside his house, she had to control herself. Keep her distance with him and behave accordingly.
But when he took a step back, she felt confused.
“I-I’m… this must be a mistake.”
“No, no. There’s a baby growing inside me.” She repeated, keeping her voice down. “We’ll need to figure out about the wedding, it’ll have to be something intimate and soon before it starts showing…”
“I’m not going to marry you.” Scott scoffed. “How can I be sure this child is mine? You could’ve slept with someone else just as you did with me.” He mocked her.
Before she could stop herself, Y/N found her hand flying to his cheek. Her palm tingled after the slap she gave him.
“How could you say something like that?”
“Don’t you ever dare to fucking touch me again!” He snapped. “And as for this little inconvenient… I’m not taking responsibility, you’re on your own.”
He gave her a disgusted look and walked inside his house. Leaving Y/N turned into a crying mess, she was hurt and disappointed by his reaction and terrified of the outcome.
Her mother sent her to talk to Scott to arrange the terms of the wedding and now she just realized he didn’t have her back. But what was worse, he thought she would sleep around like a whore.
Folding her arms, she walked with her head down. Guilt and embarrassment written all over her face. How would she deal with this? How would she tell her mother what Scott just said? She had been so sure she’d be able to hide it from her father by marrying Scott but now she was left in the worst possible way.
She cried uncontrollably feeling defeated, it was now too late to do something, but at the same time she didn’t know how she’d take care and raise a baby by herself.
“Where’s Scott?” Her mother hissed when her daughter appeared in her eyesight.
Y/N couldn’t speak, something heavy made her walk slowly. Her whole world was crashing down and now she’d have to face the consequences.
“He told me he wouldn’t take responsibility for a child who might not be his.” As the words left her mouth, she started crying again.
“Of course he would say that! What did you think Y/N?!” Her mother exploded. “He must think the worst of you now, how easily you have yourself away to him!”
“He told me he loved me!” Managed to shout through her tears and sobs.
Her mother’s hand flew rapidly and hit her hard.
A heavy silence surrounded them. Her cheek was burning from her mother’s slap.
“Leave Y/N!” Her grandmother intervened.
“She deserved that.” Her mother explained, she was beyond angry.
Y/N’s grandmother wrapped an arm around her granddaughter protectively.
“What happened?”
“Tell her, go on… tell your grandmother what you did.”
Y/N kept her head down, she felt like she couldn’t look her grandmother in the eyes. She had failed them terribly, the values and principles they had showed her were thrown through the window.
“No? Well, I’ll tell her myself.” Her mother warned. “Y/N didn’t wait until marriage, she gave herself away like a whore and is now with a child. Couldn’t keep her legs closed.”
“Well we’ll think of something, she won’t start showing right away.”
“There’s nothing to think mother, Scott is out of the picture he didn't accept the responsibility.”
“But he’s as responsible as Y/N.” Her grandmother pointed out thinking this wasn’t fair on Y/N.
“Your granddaughter’s honor is right on the floor, he even suggested the baby isn’t his.”
Y/N saw her mother pacing around the small room, it was making her feel sick.
“And your father arrives tomorrow… should we send her with your sister to Durham?” She pondered the possibilities thinking of her mother’s sibling.
“Absolutely not.” Her grandmother defended.
“Then what? What are we going to do?”
Y/N felt sick and rushed away from them. Her head was pounding, her stomach in a tight knot and her heart shattered into million pieces.
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“Ma’am you can’t go in there.” Tommy heard from outside his office, then saw the door swing open.
“Mr. Shelby you’re the only one who can help me.”
Tommy rose to his feet in a second, the worry he found in Y/N’s grandmother raised all the alarms.
“What happened?”
“My son in law is hitting Y/N badly.” Her voice cracked, her hands reached for the sleeve of his suit. “You’ve to help her.”
Tommy took his coat from the rack and rushed to see what was happening.
“John, get Polly and meet me in Y/N’s house.” He demanded.
“I’ll go with them Mr. Shelby.” Y/N’s grandmother expressed, not wanting to make him wait.
Tommy doubted for a second, but with her hand, the elder woman ushered him, so it must be serious. Stepping in Y/N’s house without knocking because he heard her cries and pained screams from outside, but Tommy wasn’t prepared to find what he’d see.
Y/N was in the middle of the living room half her clothes shattered, kneeling on the floor and her upper body leaned over a chair, her back covered by the belt marks and blood.
He felt a rush of anger and disgust through his body. Tommy could practically taste his bile in his mouth, but as Y/N’s father was about to hit her again, he stepped in his way, holding the man’s hand firmly in the air.
“You touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Stay out of this Shelby, I’m dealing with this whore.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself or you’ll regret it.” Tommy muttered through gritted teeth.
John joined him with a couple of some of their men, they went straight to hold Y/N’s father away from her.
Y/N winced in pain when Tommy tried to help her up.
“This is a family matter!” Y/N’s mother shouted disturbed for the interruption. “You should respect that.”
“Yeah? Just like you’re respecting your daughter?” Tommy snapped, he lost all self control over this injustice.
“She has to deal with the consequences of her acts! Behaved like a whore, gets punished like one.”
Y/N felt her mother’s words like daggers to her heart. She wasn’t sure what felt more hurtful; her father’s hitting her with his belt or her mother’s words.
Tommy felt like throwing up, he apologized when he got Y/N in his arms and she complained from the pain.
“You can’t take her away!” Her mother warned, trying to stop Tommy.
He gave her a warning stare and mumbled; “watch me.”
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Part 2
Divider
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @shydysneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactic3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @withyoutilltheendofthismess
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azulhood · 1 year
Text
Alright, random idea about the Twin AU, or any AU where Danny is an Al Ghul. Everyone knows that Ra's has an entire army of assassins, but what about the dead assassins? I doubt Ra's is dipping everybody in the Lazarus pit.
So, what if they went to the ghost zone?
And then when Danny dies, these assassins, who are extremely loyal to the Al Ghul family, immediately start following him.
The main assassin in charge, I'm gonna call him Carl, whose been around since the very beginning of the league, who was Ra's right hand man, starts acting as Danny's second in command basically becoming his Alfred.
Carl orders some of the assassins to help Danny out with some small stuff, like distracting some of the rouges so he gets to school on time, killing the hotdogs in the fridge so the little prince doesn't die of poisoning, setting off a Fenton invention so Danny get make a getaway. He definitely orders them to not interfere in big fights, unless Danny really needs the help, as a way for Danny to learn how to fight.
Carl has no idea who the GIW is, but he's gonna find out and then he's gonna blackmail/threaten/unalive some people.
Danny doesn't even know that he's suddenly gained a ghost army, all he knows is that there's a few helpful ghosts hanging around that really hate hotdogs. And then when Danny becomes the ghost king, hoo boy. The assassins replace the old ghost kings army, set up their own system and chains of command just completely change everything. Carl takes FrightKnights place as the king's right hand man/ bodyguard, makes sure all the members of the royal family are safe and is ready to fist fight the time ghost if he makes one more attempt to get his job.
Danny: I wanna be an astronaut. Carl who has no idea what that is: Sure, just let me do some info gathering and blackmail some people. Danny: What? And imagine the batfams reaction.
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ceesimz · 3 months
Text
Stand By Me
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Two weeks.
That's all it had been since you last saw each other.
Considering it was only the start of the relationship, it felt like a life time. Work had kept the two of you apart; Alexia seemed to have to travel constantly at the moment, and the busyness of your own job had picked up too. Even when you were in the same city as each other, there still wasn't enough time, and it felt like torture knowing you were just miles away from each other.
But that's what made your relationship so sweet. When the pair of you got together, it was like the rest of the world went away. If it was just the two of you, you saw a different side to Alexia and she saw a different side to you. You felt invincible when you were together. You could never take for granted the soft, tender, shy, and tooth-rottingly sweet persona of Alexia Putellas off the pitch, and you thought maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way about you.
Apparently not.
Here you now were, sat alone at the restaurant that you were supposed to be meeting her at, slowly harbouring a glass of wine as you watched the time tick away on the clock opposite you. Despite the chatter, laughter, music, and general background noise of the restaurant, bustling as it was on this Friday evening, you swore you could hear the hands move on the clock.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Five minutes - fine! Not a problem.
Ten minutes - still alright.
Fifteen minutes - well... a text sent.
Twenty minutes - a bottle of wine ordered.
Thirty minutes? This was unfair. Not even a reply of warning. In fact, you hadn't gotten a single text all day.
Still, the clock, tick, tick, ticking away, mocking, teasing.
Where the hell was she?
"Perdónarme, señorita, if you are not going to order, we have a lot of people waiting for a table."
There we go. The last straw.
At the waiter's words, you stood abruptly from the table, gulped down the rest of your wine, before grabbing your coat and storming out. That was nothing short of utterly humiliating. You were in half a mind to take the bottle of wine with you and drown your sorrows on the walk home, but you'd already had enough embarrassment for one night. Walking out of a restaurant full of lovers on your own with nobody holding your hand, nobody carrying your coat for you, nobody guiding you out to a pre-booked taxi with their hand lingering on your lower back. You had yourself and yourself only, and being seen gaining comfort from a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine was not the impression you were trying to achieve.
Still, that didn't stop you from throwing your heels off in the corridor of your small Barcelona flat and heading straight to the fridge for one of the beers you kept in there. You could only fall asleep later that night after your best friend back in your home town in England called you up and criticised the woman you thought could do no wrong, having you belly laughing until you succumbed to your exhaustion, feeling significantly lighter.
Frustratingly, that was only a temporary thing. The first thing on your mind the following morning, was how badly you missed the feeling of a certain Catalonian's arms being wrapped around you. Again, it was just the start of the relationship (if that was even a thing anymore), so there had only been a few... sleepovers, but that didn't diminish the longing you had.
"Fuck sake." You grumbled, swinging your body to sit on the edge of the bed as you sighed heavily, head dropping back and eyes closing.
Waking up sad and alone in a foreign country, no matter how long you had lived there, never got any easier - especially when you had been so cruelly ghosted the previous night. The embarrassment lingered heavily in your chest, and you wanted to do nothing all day but sulk in your flat, then get drunk in one of Barcelona's many night clubs. Previously, you had rejected your friends' plans for tonight in the hopes of spending time with Alexia, but that had obviously flown out of the window after last night's events, or rather the lack of events.
So, you sent a text to the group chat containing your favourite friends you'd met so far in this beautiful city, informing them of your new decision, smiling when you instantly received an influx of messages conveying their joy. However, to your own annoyance, you found yourself pressing on Alexia's chat to see that she had left you on read.
Un-fucking-believable.
That night, you made sure to put on the little black dress you'd been keeping at the back of your wardrobe, hoping to one day wear it when you were going out with Alexia. But boy had she ruined that chance now.
When you got drunk whilst carrying a variety of angry emotions (especially when it came to relationships), you knew you had a habit of acting a little... petty, to say the least. That habit came in full force at 2am, when you decided to post a picture of yourself in your outfit, a smug and knowing grin on your face, hoping for Alexia to see it on your Instagram story.
Still drunk and awake at 6am, however now thankfully in the comfort of your own bed, you checked your Instagram story views, and there it was. Alexia had seen it. And... liked it? Was she serious right now? With a frustrated huff, you threw your phone down on the bed beside you and tossed onto your side angrily, refusing to let this get to you. Admittedly, that was a little hard to do in your drunk and emotional state.
You weren't entirely surprised to find your pillow coated with the after effects of tear-streaked mascara the next morning, but you were more worried about the pounding on your front door that caused your head to throb. Not quite jumping out of bed, it was more of a stumble really, you threw on your dressing gown and very quickly washed your face as to not scare off whoever was meer minutes away from bashing your door down.
"Fucking hell, it's early, who are-" You cut yourself off when you swung the door open, only to be met with the one person you were not expecting. "No."
Spiteful laughter bubbled out of you before you could control your reactions, and you slammed the door shut in her face.
...okay, maybe that was a little harsh, but in your hungover state, you didn't really have the sympathetic capacity to feel sorry about it.
"Please. I need to talk." Alexia pleads, a tired frown on her face as she held onto a bouquet of flowers.
"Why?" You leaned back against the door, bending over a little to rub stressfully at your face.
"I messed up, I know it. Please. I want to, to explain myself."
You would be lying if you said her English accent, sounding much sadder than you'd heard it before, didn't pull at your heart.
"I'm not in the mood right now, Alexia. It's early."
"It's two o'clock." Comes Alexia's confused voice.
Your eyes went wide as you looked at the digital clock on your coffee table, seeing it was indeed 2pm.
"Well... just not now, Ale!" You groan, rubbing your temple.
"Vale, vale." You just about hear her sigh exasperatedly on the other side of the door. "Soon, por favor. Tengo algo qué admitir." (I have something to admit.)
"What, that you're an arsehole?" You snort, before grimacing at yourself. "Sorry! Sorry, I'm sorry."
"No, it is okay." Alexia sounds a little humoured rather than offended. "I did not mean to... not show up to our date. There was a confusion with my schedule, and I did not mean to hurt you, guapa. I would really like to explain it. Please let me have a chance."
It falls silent between you both for a second as you consider your options. Your head was pounding, you were in a horrendous state appearance wise, and judging by your peculiar actions within the past few moments, you're pretty sure you're still a little drunk.
"How about we meet for coffee in an hour?" You suggest, because you really needed a shower and perhaps 1 or 2 or 10 glasses of water.
Sure, she'd already seen you in your current state, but you were not about to have an adult conversation with panda eyes and awful morning breath.
"Sí, I would like that." Alexia lets out a breath of relief. "At our bakery?"
You smile sadly at that - there was a bakery down the road from your apartment, a tiny but heavenly place with the best coffee and pastries that you had immediately claimed as your favourite breakfast spot within days of moving to Barcelona. When you introduced Alexia to it after your first night together, she had grown to love it just like you. From then on, most times you were together, you would go there.
"Yes, at our bakery." You confirm, closing your eyes as you picture her solemn face behind the door.
"Okay, I will be there. I... your flowers?" Alexia says, again with a hopeful lilt to to her voice.
You pause, before turning to open the door ever so slightly, half your face showing in the gap. This gave you the chance to take in Alexia's appearance, and it caused your defiance towards her to crack a bit. Her eyes were quite red, there seemed to be a frown permanently etched onto her face, and a pair of dull bags under her eyes seemed to drag her skin down. It was quite heartbreaking, to say the least. You're brave enough to think even you looked better than her right now in your current state of appearance.
"Gracias, Ale. Qué son hermosas." You take the bouquet from her, looking down at the abundance of stunningly colourful flowers organised perfectly.
"Tus favoritos." Alexia offers a semi-genuine smile as you meet eye to eye. You return the smile, seeing hers grow at the sight. "I swear I am so sorry for my actions, guapa."
"It was really humiliating on Friday, Ale." You admit. Alexia pinches the bridge of her nose as her frown somehow intensifies.
"Lo siento mucho, de verdad." Alexia mumbles, looking at the floor as she's too ashamed to look you in the eye. "It was not my, my... intentions?" She looks up at you briefly as you nod to confirm she's said the right word. "Sí, it was not my intentions to have you feel like that. I need to explain, please."
Alexia Putellas was not one to beg, you knew that.
"You can, later." You tell her. She nods and brushes her hair back with her hand.
"Gracias. Really, thank you."
"I'll see you soon."
"Vale. I will show up this time." She jokes light-heartedly, making you let out a huff of laughter and shake your head.
"If you don't, I'm never talking to you again." Her eyes widen at that and she nods nervously as you hold back a laugh.
"I will be there." She states firmly.
"Good." You offer a small smile. "Bye, Ale."
She nods once more and takes a few steps backwards, just gazing at you.
"Bye, amor." She murmurs, before turning around and walking away.
To your relief, Alexia stuck true to her word. An hour later, you saw her sat at one of the outdoor tables of the bakery, a hat and a hood allowing her to stay mostly incognito. But you knew her all too well and instantly recognise her despite her shoddy disguise. Her posture was slumped slightly, another sign that maybe mentally she wasn't doing that great.
"Hola." You greet her, making her raise her head immediately and look at you with a face of relief.
"You are here." She states simply, almost in disbelief.
"I could say the same about you." You hit back, wincing as the words leave your mouth.
"Mm." Alexia grimaces, trailing her eyes back down to where her hands rested on the table.
You take a seat across from her, noticing she'd already ordered your favourite pastry and hot drink for you.
"Thanks for these." You smile up at her.
"You want me to... get straight into it?" The English phrase sounds funny coming from her, it sitting unfamiliarly on her tongue.
"Please."
You watch as she shifts uncomfortably in her chair and sighs, folding her arms on the table and keeping her eyes cast down.
"Friday, I was with my family. Friday was... ten years of my Papí's death."
Well, shit.
"Oh my god." You freeze, eyes wide as you stare at her. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I-"
"You didn't know, amor, it is not your issue." Alexia reasurres you. You put your head in your hands and groan quietly.
"I could have been less petty and immature about it though. Fuck, I am so sorry, Alexia. I had no idea." You ramble, mentally kicking yourself and looking at her through your fingers. She responds silently with a soft smile as she gently pulls your hands from your face.
"No, I am sorry, guapa. I didn't talk to you, I left you... in the dark. Or, alone at a restaurant." She jokes, and you let out a breath of relief.
"A text would have been nice." You mumble after a few moments, eyes focused on your connected hands as Alexia brushes her thumbs over your knuckles.
"I know. That is another reason why I feel bad. I left you, and I didn't send you a text to tell you. Really, I am so sorry. It was just... a hard day." It's said in a quiet tone that's laced with emotion, and that paired with her appearance, you knew instantly she was telling you the absolute truth.
"I bet it was." You smile sadly at her.
"I know I should have been... should have told you the truth. But I am now. I did not mean to hurt you, no way. My head was... full. It did not stop running and running. I didn't look at my phone on Friday at all, I just noticed yesterday what I had done. When I knew, I was so angry with myself." Alexia explains. "Alba shouted at me too."
You giggle at that, and she chuckles along with you.
"I believe you. I'm not mad." You admit.
Alexia drops her head so that her chin is to her chest, her anxiety now almost entirely eased thanks to your understanding.
"Dios mío, muchas gracias. Lo aprecio más de lo qué crees, amor." She mumbles, shaking her head before looking back up at you with tears in her eyes. (I appreciate it more than you know.)
"Just please don't do it again. Let me in next time. If we want to have a relationship, we need to communicate better, we need to be clear and honest, okay?" You tell her.
"Sí, I know. I know. I will try." Alexia says affirmatively. "I am not perfect. But I will try. I want this, I do."
You stand up from your chair, and at first Alexia panics internally, but when you offer your arms out for a hug, she leaps up and embraces you tightly.
"Neither of us are perfect, pero tengo muchas ganas de qué funcione también." You whisper in her ear, rubbing your hands up and down her back. (But I want it to work too, so much.)
"Yo también, cariño." Alexia places a handful of light, apologetic kisses on your neck.
"I'm sorry for being rude and petty earlier. I think I was still drunk." You admit sheepishly, Alexia laughing into your skin.
"I think you were. That was not like you." You grimace and nod in agreement. She pulls her head away and clutches at the back of your neck, her eyes searching yours. "We are okay?"
"Sí, amor. Más qué bien." (More than okay.)
When your lips finally connect, all is forgiven.
It's three weeks before the next incident.
In that time, Alexia had done a lot of grovelling. You had reasurred her many times that, as long as it was a one off occasion and due to the event she had missed your date for, you weren't angry. Not only had she surprised you with weekly flowers, date nights, and a night away together, she'd also asked you to be her girlfriend. It was a no-brainer, of course you said yes. Both of you had never been happier.
However, as you lay on the sofa of your apartment, sick supplies and tissues surrounding you and a blanket borderline suffocating you despite your temperature, you could only focus on the pain you felt for your girlfriend as the whistle blew for the Champions League Final.
Barcelona 1 - 3 Lyon.
You felt tears brewing uncomfortably at the sight of the white-kitted team celebrating, but that was nothing compared to the sight of your girlfriend lay on the field, sobbing her heart out.
If you were heartbroken, you can't even begin to imagine her pain. This was her dream, every footballer's dream, and it had been brutally pulled away from her and her team at the very last stage. And it all felt worse because you couldn't be there for her. Instead, you were stuck on your sofa, your whole body hurting and your chest rattling with every breath, completely ruined by a nasty chest infection.
It wasn't meant to end like this for the Barça Femení team. You knew it.
But Alexia... she couldn't even begin to fathom what had occured.
The moment the whistle blew, she went into shock. When she awoke the next morning, she couldn't remember much. The whole evening was a blur. She vaguely remembers the utter disgust she felt when a silver medal was placed around her neck, the anger she felt giving the Lyon team a guard of honour, and the stab in the heart when golden confetti landed on her.
She remembers feeling her mother's arms wrapped around her along with the reasurring whispers of her sister, but she had no idea what was actually said. She doesn't remember picking up her phone once at all that evening. She doesn't remember the silent coach journey back to the hotel. She doesn't remember getting into bed, and she has no idea how she fell asleep. Most importantly, she doesn't remember just how ill her girlfriend was.
Fuck.
Her girlfriend, her sick girlfriend who was devastated to not be able to fly to Turin with Alexia and her family. Her sick girlfriend who was all alone back in Barcelona, feeling worse than she ever had in her life.
Alone.
Alexia was completely unaware of the fact that you had managed to get ahold of Alba to try and find out how your girlfriend was. And when Alba had cared for you more in the space of a twenty minute phone call than Alexia had in the past 24 hours, you knew just what kind of situation you were in now. Despite the pain your girlfriend was feeling, you were nothing short of furious. Not that you could do much about it though, considering everytime you moved, you would cough so hard your vision went fuzzy. But your closest friend, who had dropped whatever she was doing to come to your flat and stay with you, at the request (demand) of Alba, she took all of that fury on for you and held onto it until you could handle it.
Even still, Alexia went down to breakfast shortly after waking up like she hadn't just ignored your messages that she briefly glanced at, along with the flurry of other messages from family and friends. She ate on her own in silence, airpods in with nothing playing in hopes of some peace. That wasn't achieved though, it was a futile and pathetic attempt. Her mind wouldn't stop.
For the whole of yesterday evening and this morning, the defeat ate at Alexia more than any other mistake she'd made. But as she sat there, alone, staring at her empty plate, she knew she had royally fucked up again with you, and this realisation took over every other mistake she'd made. Not only that, but she had also left her phone in her hotel room, and right now that felt like adding fuel to the fire.
Her chair scraped against the floor as she pushed it back quickly, darting off to the elevator and spamming the button for it to pick her up. When it arrives, she almost runs straight into some other hotel guests, but she doesn't apologise. She steps to the side and waits for them to get out, before pressing the button for her floor and willing the doors to close before anyone else could get on. They did, thankfully, and she urged the lift to move quicker, watching the floors increase until finally she got to the right one. As she ran to her room, going past a few of her teammates who simply just stared at her, she stopped outside the door and checked her pockets for her keycard.
She'd left it in the room.
"¡Joder, no!" She shouts, banging her palms against her own door angrily. Her chest heaved as she rested her forehead against the door, finally feeling the tears she had resisted.
"Ale? ¿Qué paso?" Mapi approaches her cautiously, Ingrid standing back and watching on with concern.
"Dame tu teléfono." Alexia demands, holding her hand out. (Give me your phone.)
"Ale-"
"¡Dame tu teléfono ahora!" She shouts, Mapi glancing back worryingly at Ingrid before handing her phone over immediately. As quick as she could, Mapi unlocks the phone for her and Alexia types in your phone number.
"¿Hola?" It's not your voice.
"Where is she?" Alexia questions, hastily wiping away the tears dripping down her face.
"No, Alexia. Too late." Your friend replies angrily.
"Let me talk to her, ahora." Alexia requests weakly, her cold, strong demeanor cracking by the second.
"She is asleep. She cried herself to exhaustion after staying up all night worrying for you. No way am I letting her talk to you." Your friend spat out brutally, before hanging up.
Alexia drops the phone and slumps back against the wall, sliding down against it until she's on the floor.
"Who did you call?" Mapi asks softly, sitting beside her friend.
"Mi novia." Alexia sighs, resting her elbows on her knees and covering her face.
"You have a girlfriend?" Mapi couldn't stop the surprised answer from bursting out of her, and in turn she received a kick in the shin from Ingrid.
"Do you need a new key?" Ingrid questions. When Alexia nods behind her hands, Ingrid looks expectantly at Mapi.
"Why me?" Mapi responds but she gets up immediately when her girlfriend glares at her. She walks away with her hands in the air, going back to the elevator. Ingrid sits in her place.
"¿Qué paso?" Ingrid wonders softly, wrapping an arm around Alexia's shoulders.
"She is really sick. And I have pushed her away, again." Alexia reveals, grabbing her shirt by the collar and pulling it up to cover her face.
"Again?" Ingrid pushes gently.
"Sí, again. I am an idiot. I keep doing it and I do not know why." Alexia groans, angry at nobody but herself.
The two women talk for a while, Ingrid managing to help Alexia work through some of her emotions before Mapi comes back with a new keycard.
"Gracias, mis amigas." Alexia mumbles, being pulled into a hug by Ingrid, quickly joined by Mapi.
"Let us meet her." Ingrid requests with a smile, Mapi nodding in agreement with a grin.
"Who has tamed Alexia?" Mapi teases, earning a smack on the head by her girlfriend. "Ay, lo siento."
Alexia shakes her head at the pair of them, a tiny slither of a smile on her face as she turns to open her door. The couple walk away with a wave, before Alexia closes the door behind her and rushes over to her phone.
The influx of messages from you break her heart. You sent your last text at 04:17AM, and even though Alexia sensed you were angry at her, it was still filled with love and care.
Yes, she'd hugely messed up.
She was sat on the end of the bed, head in her hands, when her phone rang. Her heart hoped it was you, but her brain knew it wasn't. Instead, it was her sister, and she knew she was about to be in for a lecture and a half.
As expected, she answered and was immediately met with an overload of Spanish being bellowed at her down the line. There was no way she could get a word in as Alba went on and on, and with every word that came out of her sister's mouth, the guilt she felt increased tenfold.
How had she done it again?
"Sí, lo sé, Alba. Lo sé." Alexia mumbles when Alba finally pauses. (Yes, I know, Alba. I know.)
The younger woman goes to speak again, but she's interrupted by broken sobs that wreck through Alexia's body. That's when Alba realises her sister didn't need a lecture now, she had realised her mistake, and what she needed was advice. So, for an hour, that's what she gave. Until the cries of her older sister finally subsided, and there were only background sniffles to her solutions.
After they hung up on each other, Alexia went onto your contact and took her time typing out a message to you. She knew the likelihood of receiving a reply was very low, but it was the first step in making up for her idiocy.
Alexia: Amor, I have no words, no excuses for my actions. I have messed up and broken your trust again. I should not have let the defeat get to me as much as it did, and because of it, I neglected you. It is unforgivable but I know I really messed up and I will really try hard to win you back. I'm coming back to Barcelona tonight, I want to see you so bad but if you don't want me I understand. I hope you're feeling better, I'm so sorry I have been so selfish and I wish I was there to look after you. I hope to see you soon, amor. Feel better soon ❤️
Turning her phone off, she drops it beside her and lays back on the bed. Her forearms cover her eyes as she takes a few deep breaths, overwhelmed by everything that had happened.
"Venga, Ale, tenemos nuestra reunión de equipo ahora." Mapi knocks on her door and shouts through. (Come on, Ale, we have our team meeting now.)
With a heavy sigh, Alexia once again wipes her face on the inside of her t-shirt before getting up - taking her phone with her this time - and leaving her room, accompanied by her good friend.
Meanwhile, back at your flat, you had woken up to the sounds of clattering from your kitchen as your friend made you some grilled cheese toasties and tomato soup. You notice your phone wasn't anywhere around you, so you clamber out of bed, not without a cough, and head towards the kitchen.
"Bon día!" Your Catalonian friend smiles brightly at you from her place in front of the stove.
"Have you got my phone?" You croak out, rubbing your eyes tiredly.
"Sí. I'm not sure you want it." Your friend sighs angrily as she turns back to the food.
"Why?" You ask with a frown. "Has Alexia replied?"
"Yes."
"Well, let me see then." You reply flatly, walking over to take your phone from where you spotted it in her jacket pocket. She steps out of your reach and shakes her head.
"I'm so angry with her, chica, I'm not letting you just walk back into her arms." Your friend warns you.
"I'm not just gonna walk back into her arms, I'm not stupid." You argue, and your friend sighs again.
"I never said that. I didn't mean that. Sorry. I just mean... she always throws you to the side when she's going through a hard time. You are the most caring person I have met, I don't see why she acts like the way she does when she's upset. It makes no sense, chica, and you don't deserve that. Especially when you are so ill like you are." Your friend tells you softly, dishing up your food.
"I know and I am fucking angry about it." You mumble, moving to sit at the tiny dining table in your kitchen.
"Good. You better know your worth, because that woman doesn't." She mumbles, bringing your food over and placing it in front of you. "Te amo, amiga."
You smile as she sweetly kisses your forehead before going off and cleaning her mess. The two of you make small talk as you eat, until she sits down in front of you with a pointed look.
"Hm?" You hum, waiting for her to get out whatever she was about to say.
"I will give you your phone. I'm going to do a grocery shop for you, so I'll give you your phone, but please do not sit on it and just make yourself more upset. I will be quick as I can, sí?" You nod and smile at her as she slides her phone over to you. "Call if you need. See you soon."
She grabs her coat and walks out the door. When she's gone, you immediately go on your phone and look for Alexia's message. You read it, your heart being pulled in about a million different directions emotion-wise, and... as much as you hate to admit it, you believe her. Ultimately though, you choose not to reply to it. She doesn't deserve that yet.
Instead, you move over to the sofa and collapse onto it, a devastated frown on your face as your bottom lip quivers. Tears sneak their way out, soaking the pillow you rest your head on, tired of being ill and tired of being cast aside by your girlfriend.
A few hours later, as you sleep with your head on your friend's lap, there is a knock at your door. You don't hear it of course as you got some more much needed rest, so your friend gently slides out from underneath you and answers it.
"Are you fucking serious?" She growls when she opens the door to see Alexia on the other side. "Are you really here right now?"
"I know you have looked after her when I've been gone, but I am here now, and I need to see her, please. I am so sorry." Alexia pleads, her infamous frown seemingly etched permanently on her face nowadays.
"She is asleep, so I'm going to lower my voice but don't forget how angry I am with you." Your friend takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "She has been desperate to speak to you. She didn't stop crying for you and your loss all evening yesterday, and then all night too when she realised you had begun to ignore her again. Imagine how she feels, knowing you are in pain, but being shoved out? And then double her feelings, because she knows that you know she is so sick right now, yet you still choose to act how you have. Her head is all over the place: one part of her is so unbelievably angry at you, another part of her just wants you to hold her until she is better, her mental state seems to just take constant hits because of you. So no, while I am here, you will not see her. I'm taking care of her, giving her my love, doing chores for her since she can hardly breathe, all the things you as a girlfriend should be doing. You are childish and selfish and so fucking egotistical if you think you can march in here and say 'ooh, lo siento bebíta' and expect her to fall back into your arms. You do not deserve her, so go away."
Despite the supposedly calm voice your friend speaks with (it was not calm, it was brutal, spitting, and patronising, with each word hitting Alexia like a bullet), you were woken up by the commotion just a few metres away from you. Neither of the two at your door could see your face where you were on the couch, so you laid still and listened to them.
"I know I have done wrong. I'm a shit girlfriend, I fucking know it. But I still care for her, more than anything in my life. I forgot that for a few hours and I regret it more than anything in my life because I... I love her."
Your eyes widen at that - you and Alexia hadn't admitted that to each other yet. Was she saying it now just to get to you, or did she actually mean it?
"You better mean that, if you are saying that just for the sake of an argument, just to try to win her back, I swear... I can't even think about that. Are you being serious?"
"Sí, absolutely serious. I love her. So much." Alexia's voice cracks from emotion, and you lift your head up a little to see her wipe away a tear. "I can't even explain how much I love her. She... she is the best thing in my life, and I don't know why I keep messing it up but I hate it as much as you do. I cannot even stand myself."
She talks about herself with so much disgust in her voice, it's unsettling to hear.
"You..." Your friend sighs and shakes her head. "Why, Alexia? Why do you do it?"
"I don't know. My, my head gets so... so dark and... clouded. I don't even remember what happened after the game. Uh... mi hermana says I went into shock. I think that's true because I remember nothing. I didn't drink, I had no alcohol. But I don't recall anything. There are... hours that are empty for me. All night. Until I woke up this morning and it's like my life outside of football slowly came back to me and I felt terrible. It's never my intention to neglect her, never. I'm ashamed when it happens because I know she is perfect for me and doesn't deserve me when I am being selfish and stuck in my head. But I love her, I have loved her for a while and I'm sad and fucking disappointed of myself that she doesn't know that." Alexia explains, her hands constantly swiping at her face, determined to not let her tears fall.
"I do know that, Ale." You say quietly, coming to stand beside your friend at the door.
The woman next to you has to suppress an eye roll, but she'd be lying if she said her anger towards Alexia hadn't diminished a little at her seemingly honest words.
"Amor..." Alexia breathes out at the sight of you.
"You can go back to rest, I have this." Your friend reasurres you softly, but you shake your head.
"I want to talk to her." You say, not taking your eyes away from your glum looking girlfriend who gazes at you wordlessly.
"You are sure?" You nod, and your friend walks away to give you both some space.
Alexia watches you, unsure if she should be the first to say anything. But before she can ponder that any longer, you wrap your arms around her tightly. You hide your face in her chest, knowing your friend is watching from the sofa absolutely seething at the image in front of her, but right now you needed this. And judging by Alexia's reaction of crying quietly into your neck, she needed it too.
"I... I am so, so sorry." Alexia says shakily, pulling back and tenderly cupping your face. "How do you feel?"
"Like shit." You mumble, not meeting her eyes. "Do you mean everything you just said?"
"All of it, every word." She answers, and for now, that's all you need.
"We will talk another time because I'm so angry at you, Ale, but right now I think we need each other more than anything." You state in an exasperated voice. Alexia doesn't think she's ever heard a more relieving sentence.
"Sí, sí, amor. I understand you are angry, I really do. Anything you want." Alexia rambles, softly stroking over the skin of your cheekbones.
"Give me a second. Wait here." You tell her. She nods vigorously and doesn't move a muscle when you're away from her.
"Amiga, are you sure this is what you want? I will beat her puta ass right now." Your friend offers, standing up from the couch and placing her hands on your shoulders.
"You don't need to do that. Not right now, anyway." You reply, chuckling at the suggestion and the subsequent image in your head.
"Vale. You call if you need me, I will be here in seconds, you know it. Let me know how it goes. Eres como una hermana para mí, te amo mucho." (You are like a sister to me, I love you so much.)
You smile up at her and gladly accept the hug she offers.
"I love you too, chica. Thank you for everything you've done. I'll speak to you soon." You tell her, squeezing her arm before she walks away.
Silently, you laugh as she glares at Alexia and bumps into her shoulder on her way out of the door. That girl.
"May I come in?" Alexia questions in a shy voice. You nod, and she quietly closes the door behind her. "Is there anything you would like me to do? Anything you need?"
Now that you were alone with her, you were torn. Your brain told you that you should be cautious, that you shouldn't trust her, but your heart wanted you to dive right into her arms and never leave again.
"I, um... I think I need to take my tablets now. The doctors gave me some antibiotics." You answer, your cheeks flushed red as you spoke sheepishly.
"Get yourself comfy on the couch. I will get them for you, and anything else you need or want." Alexia takes a few steps closer until there was less than a metre between you both. "Tell me. It's my job to look after you."
You bit back a nasty response to that, it wasn't the right time. If you wanted to keep the atmosphere as civil and comfortable as possible, now was definitely not the right time to spill every insult and emotion pent up inside you.
"I... I just want my girlfriend, Ale." You admit tearfully.
Alexia didn't think it was possible for such a short sentence to completely crush her heart.
"I am here. Here now." Alexia tells you, pulling you tight against her as yet more tears fall. "I will never forgive myself, amor."
"Please, just..." You sigh frustratedly, moving back from her arms. "Don't talk. I need you, not your words."
Alexia nods affirmatively, and from then on, the evening was spent with no more than a handful of words shared between you both. She helped you take your tablets, held you tightly on the sofa as a movie played on the TV, rubbed your back comfortingly whenever you coughed, cleaned your apartment quickly when you went off to get ready for bed, and whispered the sweetest words imaginable in your ear until you drifted off to sleep.
She didn't sleep at all that night, instead simply just cradled you in a position to ensure your chest wouldn't bother you. It wasn't exactly comfortable for her, but she'd go through anything to you make you feel better. As it often did, her mind spiralled uncontrollably as she sat in silence, the only sounds being your wheezing breaths, and she couldn't stop the stupid tears that leaked from her eyes.
Alexia despised crying. That was only something she had discovered later in her adult life, but she loathed it more than anything. It wasn't something relieving for her, she didn't 'feel better' after it like everyone always says, if anything she felt worse. Frustrated, pathetic, weak, and fucking tired.
But what did she hate more than crying?
Crying because of her disgraceful actions. Crying because you were crying as a result of her.
Whatever it was that was so fucked up wrong with her, she had to deal with it because she couldn't live like this anymore, you couldn't live with her like this anymore. She knew if she got this time right and you forgave her, she had no more chances. One more time of acting like this, you were gone. You didn't even have to say it for her to know it.
Life had no guarantees, she knew her future wasn't going to be perfect and there will be occasions that will have her hating the world, so she must sort through her mind to figure out why she reacted this way and how to fix it, how to react better.
Barcelona had a team of trusted psychologists and psychiatrists, so after her next training session, she would pay them a visit and ask for help.
"What's on your mind, Ale?" You croak out, feeling her tense body underneath you and knowing she was awake. The sunlight was shining through the curtains of your room, signifying it was now the next morning.
"Nada, amor. Vuelve a dormir." She shushes you, lightly trailing her fingers up and down your back. (Nothing, love. Go back to sleep.)
"No." You reply, shifting off of her to sit up against the headboard beside her, mirroring the position she'd been in all night. "Talk to me."
"It's early, we don't have to right now." She brushes you off and feels the temperature of your forehead with the back of her hand. "How do you feel?"
"Better."
It was a lie, you still felt like crap, but you just wanted to talk. Alexia was probably right though, first thing in the morning wasn't likely the best time to talk, but you wanted it over and done with.
"Are you sure?" Alexia checks with a shaky sigh.
"I want to talk. I want you to talk." You demand gently, Alexia nodding. "Be honest with me, Ale. Really fucking honest."
"Sí, I will." Alexia tells you. "Where do you want me to start?" You just stare at her wordlessly. "Okay. Okay."
She clears her throat nervously before she begins.
"Everything I said to your amiga yesterday was absolutely the truth. I swear it. I really don't remember much from after the match, but that's never really happened to me before. It's... a bit scary."
She pauses, fiddling with the drawstrings of her shorts.
"I didn't want it to happen. And I already know I need to speak to somebody about it because it was so scary when I realised what happened, and I never want it to do it again. I was just so set on us winning, getting revenge, defending our trophy, I guess I... didn't even consider us losing. It wasn't an option. But then we did lose and I was..."
She shrugs her shoulders, her eyes glazed over and unfocused as she absentmindedly stared off into your room.
"I was hurt. I gave it my all and it wasn't good enough. I felt like I had no more to give. I must have been really tired, I think I was for a long time, because when I got to my hotel room I think I went straight to sleep. Which again, never happens. I can't really sleep after a game, so for that to happen was really unusual. But I know this isn't what you wanted to hear or expected to hear, you want to hear me talk about how I felt about you. About the situation I put you in again."
She takes a deep breath and turns to look at you.
"I told you all that because I want you to know it wasn't a... a con- conscious?" You nod. "It wasn't a conscious decision or a purpose to act like that. I wasn't even in my head to make my own decisions. But I'm not going to blame my actions on that, I still blame myself for it. I need to make sure that won't happen again, it's only my responsibility, nobody else. It's not fair for me to react that way and for it to affect the people around me. I promise I am going to talk to a mental health helper about it."
Your lips turn up into a tiny smile at her skewed English translation of a therapist.
"But sometimes, when bad things happen, my head gets so negative and it's not a nice place to be. It's dark, and I don't... I don't want you to see that, amor. Because I get really negative. Mamí told me I apparently said I don't even want to play football again after the loss yesterday. That's how bad my mindset was."
The look on Alexia's face is one of pain as she speaks, and you're quite shocked to hear what she's saying right now - you can't remember a time she's ever let you in to her headspace like this. So openly and honestly, telling you her most intense and personal thoughts.
"I think I automatically push people I love away from me when I'm like that because I really, really don't want to hurt anyone. I am going to talk to the mental health team at Barca and set up some sessions with them because I am so serious about you, amor. I want to have this relationship, I want it more than anything. And I would choose to quit football than choose to upset you on purpose. I should have checked on you, cared for you, and let you in. But I was in my own head too much and acted like a selfish... selfish brat."
You huff a breath of laughter at the description choice of herself, something that sparks a bit of hope in her chest.
"If you choose to forgive me, I'll never let you forget how grateful I am. If you want to take it slow, I will take it slow. If... you want me to leave, I will leave. The ball is in your box."
"The ball is in your court." You correct her humourously. She blushes and shakes her head.
"The ball is in your court." She repeats, looking at you with such sincerity and tenderness that it takes away your breath away slightly.
"I'm going to be honest now, okay?" Alexia nods, ready for whatever you're about to say. "I was so upset when I realised you had started to ignore me again. All I ever want to do is care for you, Ale, and when you need it most you push me away. It hurts, it makes me insecure, it makes me feel like I'm not good enough or I'm doing something wrong or-"
"No, no, no, you don't, you never have." She wants to carry on, but you stare at her, unimpressed, and that's enough to stop her in her tracks.
"I know it might be hard for you to open up, but when it comes to hard times like this, the relationship feels quite one-sided. I'm not doing that, Ale. Plain and simple. That's not how a relationship works, you have to let me in. You have to let me be there for you. No protecting your reputation, no shutting off, none of that. You let me do my job as your girlfriend because I care for you. You can rely on me, you're allowed to lay off some of your emotions onto me because that's the only way to survive healthily; accepting help from others when you need it. You can only survive on your own for so long, and this relationship can only survive for so long if you continue like this."
You warn her sternly, looking at her with a firm glare that strikes fear in Alexia.
"If anything like this happens again, Alexia, I'm out. I'm not doing it."
There you go, your last line delivered to perfectly finish off your explanation. To be honest, at such a time in the morning and when you're ill, you can't really believe how well-put together your argument is.
"I hear everything you say, amor. I hear it and I'm going to do better. You are an incredible person. You deserve better than I have given and I swear to you I'm going to be better from now on. I recognise my stupid mistakes and I know how I'm going to start fixing them. I cannot promise I will be perfect, but I do promise that I'm going to work on my flaws and be the best version of myself for you. All this, because I love you."
Is it a bit soon to forgive her? You hope not, because right now you don't think you've ever felt more admiration for someone. She's done everything you've asked for and more in terms of being honest and opening it. Perhaps it almost came too late for other people's standards, but you can't just forget the person she is when she's not being a stubborn mess. You just have to trust her now; trust that she's going to stick to her word, trust that she's going to be better for you. And if she doesn't, well... you'll be ruined.
"Am I... do you forgive me?" Comes Alexia's insecure, tired voice.
"Almost. You just need to stick to your word, please, Alexia." You sigh, returning back to your previous position on her chest. She freezes for a moment, before delicately wrapping her arms back around you and pressing a firm kiss to your warm forehead.
"I will. I promise. I promise." She rests her head atop yours, closing her exhausted eyes.
The room falls silent as you take in the feeling of each other, both relishing in it more comfortably than last night now that everything is mostly just water under the bridge.
"Ale?" You say, lifting your head up to look at her. She hums, smiling slightly deliriously down at you, completely sleep deprived. "I'm so sorry about your game. I know how much it meant to you."
She smiles sadly this time, shrugging her shoulders a little.
"Thank you. Let's not think about that now though, amor. I will be okay with it soon." She responds, leaning her head back against the headboard and closing her eyes.
"Ale?" You say again.
"Mhm?"
"I love you too."
Her eyes shoot open and her head jerks forward at that.
"¿Hablas en serio?" She asks immediately, moving a hand to rest on your cheek. (Are you serious?)
"Sí, absolutamente en serio." You tell her in a quiet giggle. "Te amo, Ale." (Yes, absolutely serious. I love you.)
Alexia gazes down at you, this time not loathing the tears in her eyes, before hugging you tighter than she ever has. It's a moment you'll both cherish forever - the absolute whirlwind of the past 24 hours were an important turning point in your relationship, for the better.
And when it gets to July, that turns out to be more true than you could have ever guessed. Your relationship was thriving, you didn't think it was possible to stay in the 'honeymoon phase' for so long and so intensely, but you were. Every moment possible was spent together, you introduced each other to your individual friends, and even went on holiday together to spend some important time together pre-tournament. That holiday was the best time of your life, being there with Alexia's family and closest friends outside of football, it was a special time that bonded you closer to each other and you'll never forget it.
Now though, you were back to being hundreds of miles apart. Alexia was in training camp in England for the Euros, whilst you were still in Barcelona for unmissable work events before you were due to fly out the night before Spain's first game.
However, you were in a terribly familiar predicament. It had been a few hours since Alexia had finished training that day, it being a morning session, but you hadn't heard a thing from her. That might not seem like something to worry about for others, but nowadays when you two were apart, you were both teased by your respective friends for constantly being on your phones texting each other. So now, you were beginning to worry.
Surely not.
Surely, it cannot be happening again. You had given her a clear warning last time, if she was to do it again then you were gone. Three strikes, and she was out.
But it was indeed radio silence from her for the past few hours. It was nearing 4pm now, signalling the end of your work day, and you had a bad feeling.
No, not anger, it was worry.
And as you reached the door of your apartment a short while later, your worries were confirmed.
Alexia: Hi guapa, sorry for not replying. I got injured in training and they sent me to hospital. Nothing serious but I had scans and they said I have broke my ACL. Not great but I'm okay🫶🏼
"Ale! ¿Eres estúpido?" Mapi scolds her friend after peeking at her phone to see the message she had pressured her to send for the past hour. (Are you stupid?)
"No quiero qué ella se preocupe." Alexia mumbles, sliding her phone back in her pocket and looking out the window of the van. (I don't want her to worry.)
"Ay ay ay." Mapi sighs. She knows what she has to do. "Mujer tonta." (Silly woman.)
Mapi: Chica do not listen to your girlfriend. She is stupid, she is not okay. She needs you, please ring her!!
You read the text from Mapi as soon as you get it. Quickly, you barge through your door and set your bag down before going to your room, flopping down on your bed, and ringing your girlfriend.
"Ni se te occura ignorarlo. Contestarlo." Mapi demands when your call comes through, slapping Alexia's shoulder lightly from her seat in the row behind. (Don't even think about ignoring it. Answer it.)
"Hola." Alexia answers your call quietly.
"Ale. How are you?" You ask in a concerned sigh.
"Um." Her eyes shift around uncomfortably at the question, struggling to answer. "I don't know."
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry." You close your eyes and will the tears to leave; now was not the time.
"There is nothing to do now." Alexia states harshly, not really directed at you but just at the world in general.
"I know." You frown. "So many people are there to support you though, my love. So many people. Including me. I'll be with you every step of the way, okay?"
"There isn't anything you can do. I don't need you to do anything, this is obviously something I have to do on my own. I don't need you."
Alexia's response feels like a stab in your heart. You know in her current circumstance, with it being so fresh still, you shouldn't take it personally. But after everything you've been through together, everything she's put you through, it slips through the cracks of your insecurities. The only comfort you get is the background noise of Mapi swearing and shouting at Alexia in thick and fast Spanish.
"Don't be like that, Ale. I want to support you, do you not remember everything we've been through?" You hit back instantly.
Alexia feels a lump forming in her throat as she recognises herself slipping back into that mindset she had tried so hard to destroy. She hadn't planned for this to happen though. As naïve as it might be, she didn't think this would ever happen to her. But, it has. Now not only does she have to accept that, she has to accept that she has people around her to make the journey easier. And that starts with you.
"Sorry, amor. I didn't mean that. I need you. More than anyone, I am so sorry for saying that. I really, so wish you were here." Alexia admits brokenly, covering her eyes and clutching at the phone almost desperately.
"I wish I was there too." You whisper back, placing a hand over your heart. "Let me in, please."
"I will, I do need you. I just... never thought this could happen." Alexia cries silently as she hides her face in her jumper. "I don't know what to do."
"What you are going to do is take the necessary steps to ensure your health, Ale. It's going to be as much a mental journey as it will a physical one, so you need to take time to come to terms with this, however long that takes, before doing anything else. But we've got you. We're going to take care of you, and you will get through this."
"I don't know, amor. I... it's too soon to know." Alexia admits as much as it pains her. There's too many thoughts in her head, too many possible outcomes, setbacks, and challenges she could face along this long road before she even considers the end result.
"Okay, I understand." You get up from your bed and dart back to the main room to get your diary from your work bag. Checking it quickly, you make a key decision. "How about I pack my bags and get on a flight to you tonight?"
Immediately, Alexia's first instinct is to tell you no, tell you she doesn't need that, that you don't need to worry, it's not necessary. But that's muscle memory, not her true feelings.
"You would really do that?" Alexia mumbles hopefully.
"I absolutely would. I want to be with you, and you need me." You tell her truthfully.
"What about work?" Alexia wonders, looking down at her swollen knee that really hardly even hurt anymore.
"Forget work, amor. You are more important." You answer definitively.
"I would feel so much better if you were here."
That's all it took. By midnight, you were 36,000 feet in the air, on your way to your girlfriend.
When you arrived at the hotel in the early hours of the morning, she was awake and waiting for you in her room. You hug her immediately, and Alexia can't recall a time she had desperately needed to feel the warm embrace of another person outside of her family. It was tender, sensitive, and healing in its own way despite everything that was down the road.
The first and probably the most important challenge came a week later, back in Barcelona. You were sat in the pre-surgery waiting room with Alexia who had been prepped for her reconstruction surgery, gripping one of her large hands with both of yours as she lay, wracked with nerves.
Questions, worries, and insecurities bounced around her mind so intensely, she could hardly even land on a single thought. It was severely overwhelming, which she knew was not needed right now before such a crucial moment. Yet, she couldn't stop the barrage of questions that began to spill out of her.
"What if I never recover?" Alexia murmurs, an arm behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling. You frowned and squeezed her hand - this wasn't the first time you'd heard this question.
"We can't know that yet, Ale. Qué será, será." You remind her. (Whatever will be, will be.)
"Fútbol es mi vida." She states ever so quietly, it was hard to catch but of course you did.
"I know. I have no doubt you'll be back playing football, Alexia. But if for some reason you don't, there are so many options. You can do anything you put your mind to."
"What if... I am not Alexia again? On the pitch?"
You sigh and stand up to move towards the top of the bed where her head lay.
"Mírame." You request in a soft voice. She turns to look at you with glossy eyes and a quivering lower lip. "We have to get through this surgery first, vale? I hear all of your concerns, amor, they are normal and I understand each and every one. But the most important thing right now is ensuring you are in the right head space going into this operation. So, we're going to take some deep breaths together, wipe those irritating tears-"
She chuckles and at that and rubs her eyes; one time, she had voiced her distaste about crying to you. You found it so endearing that she felt that way, much to her annoyance, and spent the last couple months convincing her it was okay to cry. To your face, she still hated it. Behind your back? She loved that she now had a person to go to when she felt the inevitable tears coming. But of course she still despised doing it, it was just slightly more bearable around you.
"And we're going to replace this knotted, messy string of anxious thoughts with our favourite memories. Breathe with me now, sí?"
She nods and you breathe in sync together for a few minutes until Alexia's mind is back present in the room, in the current situation, and not stuck in a nasty cloud of anxiety.
"So, memory one: our holiday this Summer. It was the best holiday I have ever been on. Not because of the location, although it was beautiful, but because of the people I was with. I saw a new side of you, amor, you were so relaxed and it was so fun being with your family and friends. I can't wait for next time."
You're both wearing matching smiles as you reminisce the best few weeks you'd had in a while.
"It was amazing having you with us, guapa. The best guest."
"Gracias, bebé." You place a quick kiss on her cheek, followed by her lips. "Memory two: the first time I met Mapi and Ingrid on that double date at our favourite restaurant."
Alexia laughs before you've even finished telling the memory.
"When she put her wine all over herself and the waiter?" You nod and laugh with her, beyond relieved to see her with a genuine smile on her face. You hadn't seen too many of them recently.
"Yeah, when she spilt her wine. And then tried to blame it on the waiter- he looked so young! He's probably never had a drop of alcohol in his life!"
The two of you laugh and share memories for a little while longer, until the time arrives for Alexia to be taken into her surgery. You whisper a seemingly endless amount of reassuring words in her ear, before she's wheeled away out of your sight. For just under three hours, you sit nervously in the family waiting room, praying for probably the first time in your life, wishing that the operation went well.
Honestly, you could have been sick with relief when the surgeon came out and gave you every detail possible about it, ultimately saying it went off without a hitch. Then, you were being led to Alexia's room where she would stay for the night, excited to see your groggy but possibly loopy girlfriend.
"Hi Ale." You greet quietly, walking in.
"Hm, hola amor." Alexia rasps out, giving you an awkward wave that makes you giggle.
"How do you feel?" You take a seat in the chair next to her, placing a comforting hand on her forearm.
"As long as I still have two knees, bien." She gives you a dopey grin, one you don't think you've ever seen before, and you wish you could get your phone out to photograph it.
"The doctors tell me you do indeed have two knees, so I don't think you need to worry about that." You smile at her, seeing her nod and rest her head back.
"¿Estás bien?" She wonders with a light hum, shakily taking your hand and covering it with both of hers.
"Yes, I'm okay, don't worry about me though." You answer humourously.
"Sabes, te amo muchísimo." Alexia states, and from the sounds of it, it sounds like she's about to make some kind of speech. "I did some thinking waiting for you to come here. I just love you. You are perfect para mí. I did two bad things to you, but here you sit with me. Perfecta. Niña mía. I almost did another bad thing, when my knee broke for no reason, but Mapi stopped me and then you saved me. What's that song you like?"
The random question seems disjointed and out of place in the things she was saying - which had you completely melting - but regardless you answer.
"I like many songs, Ale, you'll have to be more specific."
"No. You know which one." You squint at her confusedly, causing her to give a dramatic sigh. "Ay. The old one. That you did not stop playing on holiday, from that night on the beach."
"Stand by me?" You ask in a laugh.
"Sí, that one. I never tell you, but I love it too." She smiles bashfully, then suddenly frowns. "Sing it, please. I can remember the words but not the song."
"There's no way I'm singing right now." You laugh at her, only resulting in her frown growing. So much so, she looks like an angry toddler.
"Por favor, guapa. That is how I feel about you, that song. 'I won't be afraid if you stand by me'. This stupid ACL can go fuck itself because I have you."
You've never heard her say that phrase in her life, but right now you couldn't even laugh. Your heart warmed at her words, completely falling in love with her all over again.
"You really want me to sing it right this second? In the middle of a hospital?" You respond, because at this moment in time there's not a thing you'd say no to, not when she was being so adorable and honest, even if it was partially due to her pain meds and the anesthetic.
"Sí. Come lay with me, here." She shuffles to one side of the bed, scaring you since she was a little shaky and not very coherent, but she managed to do it.
"I'm not sure I'm allowed." You say, unsure.
"I'm sick, my rules." She shrugs.
"You're not sick." You laugh, but nevertheless, you stand from your chair, slip your shoes off, and slot onto the bed beside her.
"Venga, canta." She orders sweetly as she looks up at you from her position slightly lower down on the bed with her beautiful, irresistible face. With a sigh, you clear your throat gently and do as she says.
"When the night has come." Your voice is soft and quiet, but it's enough for Alexia, who gazes up at you with more adoration than you thought ever to be possible. "And the land is dark. And the moon is the only light we'll see."
"Ay, I remember now." She says quietly as not to disturb you.
"No I won't be afraid. Oh, I won't be afraid. Just as long as you stand, stand by me."
Alexia simply smiles contently and rests her head on your shoulder, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and humming along with you.
"So darlin', darlin', stand by me. Oh, stand by me. Oh stand... stand by me, stand by me."
Her body grows heavier beside you and her breathing slows down, so you stop singing, thinking she was asleep. But...
"If you stand by me, I can do anything. Mi mundo no es nada sin ti, pero me siento invencible cuando estoy contigo." (My world is nothing without you, but I feel invincible when I'm with you.)
She mumbles her statement quietly, before she drifts off into a peaceful rest. Your eyes are burning with tears at her words - just two simple sentences, whispered quietly on the brink of sleep - but they have an impact larger than either of you could ever recognise.
And when she returns to the pitch ten months later, that song being the anthem of her recovery (only to yours and hers knowledge), three words are chanted in her head. Not 'I love you' - instead, the three words of a song which became your own love language for the rest of your relationship.
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bromcommie · 3 months
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tbh I still think Brock Rumlow was an interesting character and upon further examination way more unsettling a villain than most to me because like. Let’s be real, the second you lay eyes on Robert Redford as Pierce monologuing in his pristine suit and glass office high up in the sky he just screams Evil Politician! at you. You can see it coming a mile away. Meanwhile Rumlow is….Just Some Guy. On the surface, he’s just some side dude. He’s not enhanced, he’s not in some major position of power, he’s just someone who’s really good at what he does and seems dedicated enough to the work and functions well with his team. He respects Steve, might admire him even, but not so much that he gets starry eyed like everybody else. He’s lighthearted but focused, he’s no nonsense, he’s the everyman Steve can relate to way more than spooks like Natasha or Fury.
And okay, maybe what Rumlow does for a living is beat intimidate and kill people, but it’s not like that’s the primary objective, right, because SHIELD are the good guys and this is what Steve does now, too, anyway; except that Steve doesn’t really use any weapons other than the shield, he holds back, he doesn’t carry a gun anymore which is usually fine since he’s dangerous enough without it. But when that leaves him vulnerable, he’s covered: Rumlow’s got his six, and he does it well, and he earns some of his trust. This is familiar to Steve.
And maybe Rumlow’s a little too good, fine, maybe he shoots a guy in the head within the first fifteen minutes of the movie when he doesn’t necessarily have to and then cracks jokes immediately after but that’s alright too, because that guy had Steve at gunpoint and that guy was Bad whereas Rumlow is One of the Good Guys just doing his job, right. Rumlow’s joking around because he’s used to the violence, they’re all used to it, and this is just how it works. They’re just soldiers doing the grunt work and following orders, and this is familiar, too.
Except that they’re not soldiers and this isn’t a war, except that the work is for an intelligence agency whose job it is to hoard and steal information and monitor civilians and orchestrate and sabotage and meddle in internal and external state affairs. Except that the Good Guys, in reality, are extremely grey at best. Except that many of the Good Guys turn out to be Nazis on top of everything else, and it’s not that far of a stretch.
But when it’s all starting to unravel, you’re still thinking well maybe some of these guys didn’t know. Maybe they didn’t do it out of individual belief, and if faced with the right choice, they can be redeemed.
That is until you realize that Rumlow maybe didn’t respect Steve and what he did so much as what Steve could do if only Steve weren’t “weak” in other ways, if Steve had chosen the right side. That it not being personal is less a cop out and more a taunt the same way just following orders has always been, for Rumlow and many many men that came before him and will continue to come after. Until the vault when, by the most charitable of interpretations, Rumlow looks at the Winter Soldier letting himself be smacked around and crying and getting shocked like he’s maybe a little unnerved (if not just downright fascinated) by the whole thing, but not enough that it really changes anything for him, because the end justifies the means and it’s not really his problem, anyway.
Until Sam shows up and Rumlow looks at him like a bird of prey and says This is gonna hurt with a fucking smile on his face, and then you think: shit, man, obviously. How was it not clear from the start.
To me, what makes someone like Rumlow a good villain, even a side one, is not that he’s straight up Insane & Evil™️ or suffering from Tragic Backstory Syndrome or all hopped up on magic superstrength juice or whatever, but precisely the fact that he’s Just Some Guy with a cockroach survival mentality who operates well within the established system and just so happens to be really good at his job - a job that he might’ve even joined thinking it was for a good cause, or because he had something to prove, or simply because it gave him one hell of an excuse to be a bully. Because he either wholeheartedly believes in HYDRA or he just doesn’t give much of a shit either way so long as he gets his due in the end, and both are just as bad.
Because when you strip away all the grand scale superhero theatrics, you’ve seen this before. You’ve seen Rumlows in your school and in your neighborhood and in the military and the cop car patrolling your street. They’re the ones who sometimes say or do somewhat offputting shit but you figure it’s fine because they’re otherwise real nice or charismatic or normal looking, or maybe they work a job that’s framed as helpful or protective or inherently good despite the power dynamics at play, or they share your background and interests and you chat about the weather being crap this time of year.
And every time one of them turns out to be a violent, hateful piece of shit, you’re still somehow surprised then, too, when you really shouldn’t be.
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