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candied-cae · 10 months

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And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Please, Be Gentle with My Breaks - III

Chapter 18/? - - - Read it on AO3

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Word Count: 10,480

Summary: There's a difference between being broken and having a few breaks. But a lot of these kids and been dealt a lot of blows, and not just from physical monsters of the Upside Down. There's still a lot of stuff hidden just under the surface that they haven't been able to show just yet.

TW: Depictions of PTSD - Triggering events and flashbacks

More ST Fics

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Friday morning - the morning Family Video was set to re-open its doors and begin taking business again - had finally come.

It was a sunny morning. The kind that starts with birds chirping from the trees and the smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen. Robin and Steve had made plans to be at the store early, a few hours before opening, to eat breakfast together in the back office and take care of any possible final business that could come up. It was going to be a very good day. They'd decided that much.

Robin was still asleep and a little while away from starting that very good day when a noise that was less pleasant than birdsong rattled through her window.

It had been a week since the morning after the earthquake, and the construction crews had finally made their way to the suburbs near the Buckleys to take care of refortifying, structural concerns, and general repairs. One such house that required their attention, was the neighbor's from right behind them. The one that happened to be closest to the wall of Robin's room.

She was woken up when the racket started.

There was yelling, the workers shouting across distances and making their plans. Her neighbor's house had a lot of worry. She usually wouldn't mind the yelling that much. She could ignore it until Steve arrived to whisk her away. But she had been asleep and would've liked to stay that way. And all the noise outside made it impossible to fall back asleep. So she rolled out of bed and pulled her thin, red curtains closed, trying to block out just a little bit of the early morning sun.

It was about then that the foreman of the crew grunted with displeasure and came to a decision.

“Too much mess here. The whole foundation's got cracks in it, I don't like the way these wooden support beams are splinting, these warps in the flooring don't look good, and that roof damage is only going to get worse with bad weather. Call the homeowners. They can bitch about the facts all they want, but this house is going to be next with the demo team and need a complete reconstruction before anyone moves back in.”

Robin had already finished getting ready. She was washed up and dressed, and finally, the noise softened. Maybe they were done for the day. And she probably had another hour before Steve would be rolling around. So she dove back under her covers and tucked them in around her. Closing her eyes and drifting back off to sleep for just a little bit longer before she'd be taken away from her warm, comfy bed, and would be made to face the daunting trials of customer service.

Maybe forty minutes later, Robin was in that slippery state between sleep and awareness while the heavy machinery of a demolition team rolled down the street. All at once, those titans of force began to unmake the house right behind theirs. So close to where she peacefully slept. And the house did not go down easy.

Robin was startled awake in a red-tinted room, with the impossibly loud sound of destruction erupting from right behind her. The strength of it was rumbling the bed under her body, accompanied by the shriek of over-used and under-cared-for mechanical parts.

And all of it just sent her.

It felt like Thursday night. In the Upside Down. Where the red-tinted sky opened up above her, and the ground shook under her feet so hard she almost fell over. When the groans of an old house moved around her and filled up her ears. Until it all became echoes of screams instead.

Lucas's screams.

“Erica! Call for help!”

She felt it. She felt the fear again. Like it was all occurring to her for the first time.

Max was dead. Lucas was hurt. Eddie was going to die.

Her hands started shaking. She felt the sweat stick to the back of her neck, on her forehead under her bangs. Her arms and legs almost felt numb- or maybe they felt disconnected from her? They didn't feel right. Or useable.

She was frozen. And she tried to reason with herself. Thursday night was Thursday night. It was over a week ago. It all already happened, and she's supposed to be fine. She's in her room.

But as she looked around, none of it seemed familiar. It all looked foreign. Alien. It even started to look like the room was covered in vines, and dust, and cobwebs.

And she was alone. Steve and Nancy weren't there with her. By her side. Helping her run through the terror anyway.

She was alone.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and then one of the neighbor's walls went down. Everything shook even worse. And while she was petrified just a second ago, she was then thrown into urgency. She all but pushed herself out of the bed and backed up under the frame. In the little space between the floorboards and the box spring. She just tried to crawl further and further back, closing herself into something small and hidden.

Nothing bad should be able to find her under there.

She started crying harder.

Somewhere in it, her parents started asking questions. Asking if she wanted any breakfast before she left. Trying to make sure she was still up. Wondering why she wasn't answering. But none of it reached her. She just stared straight forward, trying desperately to cover her ears and make it stop. She just needed it all to stop. But all she felt was the tremble. And all she heard were the screams.

Her dad opened her door. He and her mom poured into her room and kneeled on the floor to find her down there under her bed. They tried talking to her. To figure out what was happening. None of them understood why it was happening.

Max was dead. Lucas was hurt. Erica was in danger. Eddie was going to die. Dustin was limping. Steve was bleeding.

Nothing was okay. And Robin was alone.

Steve's car rolled to a stop in front of the Buckleys. But Robin wasn't sitting, waiting for him on the stoop. She probably just woke up late and needed another minute, or two, to finish getting ready. They were going in early anyway.

Steve wasn't in any rush.

So he just sat in the driveway. Letting the radio play through “You're Much Too Soon” by Hall and Oats. But still, as the song ended and the host announced that The Cars would be playing next, Robin wasn't outside.

Which was starting to seem unusual. He'd never waited very long for her to run out. It's not like she was someone to go to a rager and be hungover the next morning. And there was no way she had something with Vickie that went so late she couldn't wake up. At least no way she wouldn't have mentioned it to him.

He wasn't sure what her deal was, but he still didn't really want to risk getting Mrs. Buckley's stink eye by knocking on the door. A person only makes that mistake once. So he shrugged to himself and honked his horn in two short bursts. To make sure she knew he was there. Not to sound passive-aggressive, but maybe she forgot what time they planned on leaving.

And in that dark space between what was happening and the memory playing over reality, Steve's car broke through.

Robin knew that beep.

From all the times she was already packed into his car after closing, and he was taking too long to lock the door to Family Video, so she'd lean over to the driver's seat and honk at him from his own car. From every time they'd gotten talked into running one or a couple of the kids somewhere, and they were taking their sweet time, so he'd honk at them. From any time someone peeled out past a stop sign in front of them, Steve would curse, ask how much they think his car is worth, and he'd honk at them because he couldn't expect an answer.

Robin knew the sound of Steve's Beemer.

Which meant Steve was there.

That was the only thing she could grasp and hold on to. Steve was there. Somewhere out of sight, but there. Steve was there, so she wasn't alone.

“Steve? STEVE?” she called for him. Past her parents that didn't fit the picture in front of her, she yelled for her best friend to fill in.

Just when Steve was really starting to wonder what was up, he saw Robin's father open the door.

“There's something wrong with her!” he shouted, looking more scared than grown-ups usually let him see.

And Steve didn't even think he'd ever run so fast for anything. Before he could even worry about what specifically could be wrong, before he could worry about the Buckleys not being his biggest fans, before he could worry about not technically having been invited inside their house - he was through the front door and following the sound of Robin's voice down the hallway to her room. Where her mother was crouched on the floor trying to reason with where Robin must've been under her bed.

He just shucked the jacket off his arms and scooted himself under there beside her.

“Hey. Hey, Rob. I'm here. It's me.”

She looked at him. And he made sense. As much as all of it didn't make sense, Steve being there with her while she felt terrified? That made sense.

Robin's fingers released a sweater that had been lost under her bed and instead grabbed onto the short sleeve of Steve's white shirt.

“Steve. Steve, it's- i- it's shaking. Everything is…”

“I know. I know, it is.” He nodded with her,” But, hey, I’m right here with you. Okay?”

There was barely enough room for the width of their bodies under there. But even so, Steve untucked his arm from beside him and pushed it into the space over Robin. He held her tight around her shoulders, her hand still twisted in the fabric of his shirt. She was probably going to stretch it out, but Steve wasn't even a little worried about it then.

“It's so loud…” she whispered, trying to cover up one ear without letting go of Steve.

“That's okay. That's okay, because…” Steve reached over to his discarded jacket. In the pocket was his walkman and one of his mixes he was keeping on him until he made the one specifically for Vecna. He slipped the headphones over her ears with a little difficulty, due to the angle and tight quarters. But after he got it on, he'd quickly sped through the first third of the tape, because ABBA's “Lay All Your Love On Me” should've been the fifth song on it.

He pulled her tighter against him while she listened to the music and spoke right into her hair,“ I’m right here. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She continued to cry.

Robin's parents just looked at the two in shock. They knew that they had gotten close, but they never imagined… Steve was the kid in town with a reputation for getting around. They always assumed there was something there, something he was chasing her for. They weren’t happy about it but figured - maybe just maybe - Steve Harrington got drawn into Robin’s refusal of his advances and it just made a game for him after they worked together at the mall.

But the way he was looking at her, it was love.

And not a romantic or lustful thing. It was just love in its purest form. Like they were two halves of the same person. Destined to link their arms together for the rest of their lives, despite whatever husband and wife they would get tied to down the road. It was something bigger than her parents understood.

But they were starting to.

Robin eventually stopped shaking so badly, and stopped crying so hard. Steve asked them if the construction crew could stop what they were doing. Even for just fifteen minutes. Just long enough to let Robin calm down some and get out from under the mattress and put some distance between them.

And the parents left them to each other. Somehow, they completely trusted that all Steve Harrington wanted to do was help their daughter feel better. When they told the crew that their kid was having something of a nervous breakdown, they were incredibly apologetic and immediately shut off all the equipment. Mrs. Buckley brought out some lemonade for them as a thank-you while they killed a little time.

“You doing better, Rob?” Steve asked when she looked like she was coming back to herself.

The room didn't look so scary anymore. Her mind wasn't covering her floor and walls in leathery tentacles. She couldn't hear kids screaming and crying in her ears. She knew Max was safe in the hospital, and Eddie was right next to her recovering. Lucas, Erica, Dustin, and Steve all made it out with bumps and bruises, but they were fine.

Robin pushed the headphones off of one of her ears and nodded to Steve, wiping off her face,” Yeah. Yeah.”

“Do you wanna get up?” he offered.

She thought about it. But her legs still felt like jello, and she still had an icky feeling making her hair stand up. It didn't look like the Upside Down anymore, but she was still scared it would again as soon as she made it to her feet.

“Not yet? It feels safer down here. Closed in, nothing can surprise me.”

“Okay. We’ll stay down here for a few minutes.”

Robin shook her head. She felt silly. “We’re going to be late to work,” she told him.

“Fuck work.” Steve remarked, and she laughed through a sniffle,” I’m the manager now. I say Family Video can re-open tomorrow.”

But then the worry hit her again,“ But, Steve, if I stay here all day and they start again, I-”

Steve just shrugged against her shoulder,“ We can go wherever. Wherever you want.”

And she relaxed again.

They got her up off the floor, splashed some water on her face, and got packed into the car after Robin hugged her parents. Told them she was going to be fine.

They blared music from his car and stopped back at his house first to grab snacks. She met the Antonovs while Steve stole a boombox and a handful of cassettes from his room. And then they made quick goodbyes and were off again. Steve figured a good place to go, to get away from everything, was that junkyard past the quarry.

They drove up the gravel road, around the big open water, into the break of the trees, and out through the clearing of abandoned cars and scrap.

“So, this is where Dustin took you, huh?”

She'd wondered what kind of place made for a demodog trap and makeshift fortress to hunker down in. Not enough to actually ask for a visit to a place that screamed serial killer central, but she'd wondered about it.

“Yeah. Except we came from the tracks and walked the whole way from town.” Steve told her.

Robin crinkled up her nose at the idea,“ If you're gonna bring me to the edge of the world, I'm not walking there. Only way you're getting me all the way out here is if I'm riding in style.” She leaned back in the seat, popped her feet up on the dash, and closed her eyes. Like she was trying to become the picture of luxury.

Steve just smiled softly and hummed,“ Of course, you are.”

The Beemer was parked and the two climbed out together. Robin's first instinct was to comment on the mess. The broken glass and the dented-up metal. Steve pretended it was all damage from the demodogs. She didn't know any better to push it. But they sat down in an open spot. Dug into the leftovers of Claudia's brownies while they just talked and looked out over the hill.

And then Robin brought the conversation back to something she considered to be of high importance.

“So, what's the plan with Nancy?”

Steve completely turned away from her, echoing her question like that'd make her drop it,“ What's the plan?”

And, as if she didn't even hear the annoyance in his tone, she agreed,“ Yeah. What's the plan? What sort of idea do we have on the docket?”

“Robin. Her boyfriend is sleeping on my couch right now.” Steve reminded her.

“Which is why I want to know the plan. Situation's gotten complicated.” Robin crossed her legs and popped a bit of brownie into her mouth.

But he declared,“ There is no plan.”

And she almost sounded disappointed. "Steve.”

“You guys keep trying to open that door - and maybe you could entertain the idea while Jonathan wasn't around - but it's different now.”

“You guys?” Robin pointed out,” Who else has been talking about you and Nancy?”

Steve muttered,“ Munson might've said something stupid…”

Her eyes widened,“ See! Multiple people-”

“Just the two-”

“Multiple people think there's something there! So why aren't you going for it? We got your confidence back, you're acting like the hot commodity you are again. Don't get why you're wasting time.”

He tried to redirect her,“ Why don't we focus on the Vickie front?”

She argued,“ The Vickie front is fine!”

“Oh? So what are the two of you then?” Steve pressed.

Robin got quiet before eventually saying,” I don't know.”

“That doesn't sound very fine.”

Which thankfully seemed to pull her away from Nancy Wheeler.

“How do I broach that topic then, Steve?” she asked.

“Well, you're gonna wanna get all dressed up, look real nice, lean in close, and then you're going to ask her where this thing is going.”

“And if she doesn't think 'this thing' is going where I want it to go? Then I've just outed myself and started the countdown until I become the town pariah.”

“You just gotta be covert enough it's safe, and direct enough you get a clear answer,” Steve advised. Which sounded like an impossible balance to strike.

And Robin was at least a little bit annoyed he'd even say such a thing. “Oh? Is that all?“

“That's all it takes!”

“Then…” Robin leaned over and got all in Steve's space before she put on a husky voice,“ Where do you think this Nancy thing is going?”

Steve cried out “Shut up!” and shoved her shoulder. They both fell into boisterous laughter while they lay out on the grass. Leaving behind the horrors of that morning and knowing full well that Family Video wasn't opening by 10 am as they planned.

Karen got a phone call that morning from Theresa. Robin's mother mentioned that they'd had a rough morning at their house, and asked if Karen had noticed Nancy going through anything after the earthquake. Seeming like she was reliving it at all, or stuff like night terrors? Karen truthfully told her that she hadn't seen any of that from Nancy, but what she kept to herself was that their kids didn't just face an earthquake. Karen knew they'd seen more than they needed to.

And with her soft heart, knowing that Robin got really shaken up and quickly left with Steve that morning to get away from the ruckus, Karen decided she'd pay the two of them a visit. Offer a little kindness and remind them that - even if they couldn't turn to their own parents for help - she was on their team now. Like what Nancy had said the night she found out what was going on.

So Karen baked a batch of fresh cookies in the oven. Her oldest daughter was pouring over her school work, the new and the old, and paying extra attention to her essays. Karen slid a plate on the dining room table to Nancy as they came out. Still warm and gooey, practically falling apart as Karen warned her to let them cool a minute so she didn't burn herself. And then she headed out the door. Packing herself and her Tupperware container away while she drove over to Steve's place. Where surely the two of them would have gone after Robin's fright.

The oddest thing was, as she came up to the front porch and knocked on the door, it wasn't either of them that answered. Nor was it Hopper or Joyce, or any of the kids. Instead, there was a man she'd never met before. A very attractive man, for the record, wearing a pretty skimpy pair of cut-off jeans that were halfway up his thighs and what probably used to be a tee shirt until the sleeves were snipped off to the shoulder and the bottom cropped until it almost showed skin.

Which was a little out of the usual considering Spring just started and nobody else in Hawkins would be dressing like that for weeks, if not months. Just wasn't warm enough for it yet. But there this mystery man was, looking like he was ready to host a Summer cookout and work on his poolside tan.

He pursed his lips under a crisp mustache and asked, with a strong, deep voice and accent,” Yes?”

“Uh, yes, I- uh- I’m Karen. Wheeler. Mike and Nancy’s mom.” she explained. Remembering herself after a moment and shifting the cookies onto one arm, reaching out with her other hand to shake his. Friendly, polite, and mannerly. Maybe a little more bashful than she should be.

He smiled kindly and shook it with a firm grip,” Dmitri. I am Mikhail’s father.”

“Oh, yes, I’d heard- that, um, that we had someone new coming into town.” she made the connection and thought to herself that she was being silly. Stuttering and sputtering for no reason.

“Ah, yes.” Dmitri nodded,” Once your government sends me some papers, I may move out of this boy’s home. Maybe then we will even be neighbors, yes?”

Karen smiled and agreed,” Yeah, maybe.”

It was quiet for only a moment before he wondered,“ Was there something…?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, um, I assumed Steve and Robin would be around. Wanted to drop off a snack for them.” she motioned to the container she held.

“That is very kind of you. They are out, but I can put it in the kitchen.” he offered.

She handed the sweets over with a simple “thank you,” but she didn't exactly want to run back home so quickly. And she thought it was only reasonable to try and get to know him. Being another adult on the end-of-the-world team and all.

“How- how are you and your son adjusting? To Hawkins? I'm sure it must be a big change.”

“It is fine,” he assured her. “Mikhail wishes he were in school. Also wishes he had his own room, but that will change in time. We are fine. Much better away from where we were. And I, myself, am most enjoying all the time free from work and the warm temperature.”

Dmitri remarked on it all with a smile. Pale, blue eyes shining under the midwest sun. Which must've been a stark difference compared to the snow-covered country he'd called home just days before. He really seemed happy to have completely turned his whole life around.

It wasn't like he had much of a choice. By the sound of it from Murray, Hop, and Joyce, he had to leave. There wasn't anything left for him or his son in the Soviet Union after he was imprisoned, escaped, and every person at his workplace - convicts and guards alike - was killed. He was a renegade, no matter what. So he had to pack up his kid and him, board a sketchy helicopter, and come with the people he'd become loose companions with. Chasing “hope of a better life” and “the American dream” as far as it'd take him.

It sounded terrifying for Karen to imagine putting her own family through. But here, the man stood. In the door of a teenage boy's home because it had a spare room to borrow. In a country he didn't know. Without a clue about what exactly was going to happen in the coming days, weeks, months, or years. If they made it that long.

And he smiled under the sunshine. Because he was away from work, and they had nice weather in Hawkins, Indiana. And that was enough to be happy about.

“Really?” she asked him.

“Oh, yes. Certainly. If I could spend the rest of my days like this, though in a home of my own, I would. Waking up early, making food, spending time with Mikhail and sending him off, enjoying this lovely weather… it is all I need.”

Karen had to laugh to herself. It sounded like the life of a housewife this man was wishing for. And she knew it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. It wasn't as easy or as fulfilling as it seemed like it was when a person summed up in one clean sentence.

“Your son must be better behaved than mine.” she joked.

But Dmitri's eyebrow raised, and he leaned in closer to drop his voice,“ You think too highly of Mikhail. He is still a handful.” He sat back and mentioned,” Though, I suspect I am lucky to just have the one. You manage two.”

“Three, actually.” she corrected,” I have my youngest, Holly, too.”

“Three, then. Miss Wheeler, you are a mother of considerable strength, to do so on your own.”

“Oh, I’m not on my own. My husband, Ted, he-” Karen stumbled for a second. Not exactly sure how much she could speak to her husband's adequacy as a father. Not when it came to the softer parts of childcare. “Well, he supports us. Has a good job and brings home the bacon.”

“But you manage the home and children?” the man restated.

“Uh, yes, I guess, he mostly catches the bills, and I manage the house. And the kids. The day-to-day. If you want to look at it like that.”

“Then that makes you strong,” he argued.

Karen just averted her eyes and brushed her hair off her shoulder. “You’d be the first to think so.”

“Americans do not think their mothers are strong?”

“It’s-” She didn't get very far.

“They should. I believe you are very strong woman, Miss Karen Wheeler.” Dmitri said with full sincerity.

She couldn't help but notice he didn't correct to “Mrs.” even though she brought up her marriage. But it was nice to hear the rest of that sentence too. She was a strong woman. Seriously spoken, because it was no laughing matter.

Karen also couldn't help but ask a question she's wondered a few times by herself.

“Was it easy? To work and take care of your son on your own?”

It seemed a little rude to ask. She'd only known the man for a few minutes, and she only knew he was a widower or some kind of divorcee because it was sort of the elephant in the room. You don't think to grab the kid and not the mom if everything is going well. So he was in the parenting game on his own. And maybe sometimes Karen wondered if she could do something like that.

“Absolutely not.” he answered honestly,” My wife passed many years back. And my job it- it kept me away from home a lot. Only way we got through it was our sweet neighbor watching him when I could not. I only hope I may find way to tend to him more now.”

“You’d want to be a house-husband?” she asked, surprised.

“If I could? Absolutely. Just be a little… little trophy for the Missus to show off while I take care of the home and my boy.” he mused. “Sounds like a fine life to me.”

Karen only let out about half a laugh. “You’re a very interesting man, Dmitri.”

“What? You do not agree?”

“I can see the appeal, from the outside view. I’ve been in the housewife spot for a while now. It can be nice at times, but I definitely miss…” her eyes wandered,” the freedom.”

“I take it you have a passion then? One you put away to take care of your family?” Dmitri leaned against the door frame. His exposed bicep squished against woodgrain, though Karen tried not to notice, and he watched her carefully. Listening.

She admitted to him,“ Yeah, I did. Once upon a time. Many, many years ago.”

“Well, I hope you find it again, Miss Karen.” There it was with the “Miss” again- “Maybe your kids straighten up and give you time to chase it? Or your husband takes over some responsibilities of the house?”

“Oh, that’ll be the day.”

“You think Mr. Wheeler is not strong enough for the job?”

“He does his job.” Karen had to defend her husband. She began to count on her fingers,” Provides the roof over our heads, food on the table-”

But this Dmitri wasn't having it. With one hand, he gently closed his grip around hers. Only enough pressure to stop her, so he could say,“ If your husband leaves you so dissatisfied, then I do not believe he does his job very well.”

And Karen could feel the heat in her cheeks go hotter. He was close. And touching her hands. And serious but not afraid to laugh. And sweet in the way he talked about his kid. And attentive to her in a way no one has been since she and Ted first met.

It swelled something in her chest that scared her.

She smiled politely, and pulled her hands back,“ Sorry to have taken up so much of your time. I wasn't planning on more than a quick drop-off. But I’m happy to hear you’re both settling in. Feel free to help yourselves to the cookies as well.”

“Thank you,” he said, smoothly. No hint of dismay as she backed out. And then he added,” But it was no bother to speak with a beautiful woman on a nice day. Especially if she's brought over her own baking.”

In a moment of bravery, Karen agreed.

“It was no bother speaking to you either. I’ll see you again sometime.”

“Until then, Miss Karen. To your free time and the rise of house-husbandry.”

And Mr. Antonov stayed at the door while Karen returned to her car. He popped open the top and swiped himself a cookie in the wait. Watching as she opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. He only closed the front door of Steve's house once he'd seen the engine turn over fine. Making sure she'd have no problem getting home.

A length of care just beyond what was necessary.

It'd been a long, long time since Karen felt like anyone had extended that attention toward her.

Not that it mattered much. She was a married woman. A housewife. A stay-at-home mom. And Dmitri didn't convey much confidence that she was able to be anything else anymore. Not with three children to look out for. Even if Nancy was going to be off to college soon, Mike still had three years left. Hell- Holly was only six.

She needed to get back home.

Get back to what she knew how to do.

Time passed by in the junkyard. The sun rose up and eventually hung high in the sky overhead. Steve and Robin nearly emptied the last of Claudia's brownies. They were probably ready for some real food soon. And to get back to civilization.

But, for the moment, they just lay out on the ground next to each other.

Trying not to think about all the dirt getting into their hair and rubbing into the back of their clothes.

But Robin finally felt like herself again.

“Thank you,” she said to him. Her best friend. Who sat with her through the whole thing. Even though it snuck up on them out of nowhere, and they've never dealt with anything like it themselves.

“For?” he asked her.

She filled in,“ For being there for me.”

“Rob,” Steve rolled over onto his side to look at her,” I always will be. You know that.”

Robin nodded,“ I know. I just…” she started to explain,” didn’t realize it could get that bad. Nothing ever hit me like that after last summer. Nothing was ever similar enough to what happened that I just- I don’t know. But then I was just in my room, and I looked around, and it was just like Thursday night. Like some amalgamation of my bedroom and the Creel house, and the sounds were just- ”

Steve put his hand on hers where she'd started mindlessly ripping grass up by the roots.

“I know. But we’re fine. We’re fine.” he assured her.

“Yeah. We are.”

“So we’re feeling better now?”

“Yeah. We’re feeling better now.” Robin squeezed his hand.

“All the way better, or is there still something you need to be all the way there?”

She chuckled and smiled up at the bright blue sky. A big toothy smile. The kind her mother would've told her to reign in if they were taking family pictures. But the gentle fondness of Steve Harrington could be funny when he overdid it. Like a mother hen checking on his little chickadees over and over again.

And Steve might've been thinking about cruising by a drive-thru to finish off the comfort, but Robin had another solution in mind to settle any lingering anxiety.

“Well, if you’re offering… you know what my favorite thing ever is…”

And that was all the leading she had to do. Steve's eyes narrowed at her. But he didn't resist much.

“… Fine. Since you had a shitty morning.”

And then Steve went to his cassette player and dropped in “Robin’s Mix.” A tape he'd put together some time ago that always got the most runtime when its namesake was with him. It only took seconds for the sounds of ABBA's “Dancing Queen” to come out through the speakers. The first song on it. Robin stood, dusted herself off, and joined Steve by the hood of his Beemer where he'd propped the player. Fully set on turning the patch of seclusion into their own private dance floor.

And as the Swedish singers came in, Steve was quick to mime a microphone of his own. Directing every single word to his very best friend. Just like they had for her birthday.

“You are the dancing Queen, Young and sweet, Only seventeen! You can dance, You can jive, Having the time of your life, Ooooo~ See that girl, Watch that screen, Digging the Dancing Queen!”

They spun around each other. Robin shook out her hair, dropped her shoulders, and grooved side-to-side. Put her hands up in the air and swept them around in smooth motions. Steve was jumping around, posing, and kneeling to bask up at her. Like she was a real celebrity.

They probably put too much energy into it. If anyone serious was looking at them and compared their moves to the music at hand, they'd probably have said they didn't fit together. But to the two of them, it was how the song was meant to be danced to. It's what was right when everything came down to just Steve and Robin. No one else on the planet was invited.

And just being Steve and Robin was the easiest thing most days.

They made it all the way through the song before Robin nearly collapsed against him in giggles. He put away the phony mic, tossing it somewhere behind him to catch her before they both ended up on their asses. “One Way Or Another” began to fire up, but neither was listening too carefully.

“Thank you,” Robin said, almost out of breath.

“You already said that.” Steve pointed out.

“I know. But seriously,” she grabbed his hand and squeezed it like it was the most tangible lifeline she's ever had,” Thank you. For being my favorite person in the whole world.”

He squeezed her hand back, just as much love expressed in the simple act,” Thank you for being mine.”

Eventually, Robin stood back up on her own two feet. And they decided on that drive-thru meal to offset all the sugar and chocolate they'd had in lieu of a balanced breakfast. And interestingly enough, they also decided on going back to Family Video anyway.

They had no plans to open. More so just get out from under the sun before one of them (Robin) got sunburnt. Maybe even avoid the mosquitoes for the rest of the day. And Robin's Mix played through Steve's stereo the whole drive.

It might've only been Friday, and the nurses might've said they wanted to hold on to Eddie through Tuesday, but he was getting stir-crazy.

He hated, hated, hated just sitting there on that bed. He wasn't supposed to get up and move around too much, lest he desire to face Nurse Tracey's wrath. But it was torture. The tv was no adequate entertainment, and it killed him to know that everyone else had something to do. Some way they were healing or fixing things.

Just “getting better” wasn't a good enough assignment.

Not when there was so much at stake. Not when he was laying down right next to Max, who was stuck where he'd gotten out of. They told him it wasn't the same. But it should've been. They both died, and El brought them both back, and they both got to a hospital. But she wasn't awake.

And it pissed him off so much.

She played decoy, and so did he. And they both did their parts a little too well. But she didn’t get up after.

Wayne dropped in and ate breakfast with him on his way to work. Expressed his sorrow about Eddie's ring. Eddie's mom's ring. His fingertips drifted to his right ring finger where he'd always worn it. Not on the left, because that was the spot dedicated to his own engagement one day.

He missed it. The black gem, cut in too many facets that it caught the light too much. It didn't have the same mystique as domed, smooth onyx that seemed more like a void set in silver than a stone. He'd looked at some in pawn shops and understood the appeal.

But as much as his mom's ring didn't exactly fit the idea of what his aesthetic "should" be, it was better.

And it was gone.

He didn't cry when Wayne mentioned it. Didn't cry when Wayne said he was going to ask around, keep an eye out, and look wherever he could think to. Didn't ruin it for him by saying," I know I wore it into battle. I fucking kissed it before climbing up a twisted version of our trailer and starting my set. So if it's gone, it's gone in another dimension. And, honestly, it was probably eaten by a demobat, given how much they bit at me. So it had to be fucked up for good after sitting in dead monster stomach acid all this time."

No. Eddie just smiled at his uncle. Told him thanks for everything. Said he was going to make it up to him with a spaghetti night when they settled in a new place to call their home again. Wayne smiled and told him not to forget the garlic bread.

"You know that's the best part." he laughed.

Wayne's eyes caught on his watch, and it was time to go. He laid a hand on his boy's shoulder, kissed him on his forehead, and told him to just keep getting better. Try not to worry about anything in the meantime.

Eddie didn't promise him anything.

He finished his re-read of The Hobbit. Sniffled at the end like he always did. He looked over old notes and put together new ones for a campaign. The boys, including Josie and Erica, and even Will, all came by. It was nice.

It wasn't a very complex storyline he'd thought up, but for a one-shot, it would do. The gang of nine players packed around his bed was given the task of sneaking into a masquerade party held in a castle. The queen had received word that her daughter was in danger, but she didn't know who it was. It could've even been a member of their own royal guard. So she'd hired the band of adventurers to make sure the princess would be safe. The hard part was, she'd survived an insane labor of nine. Yup, nonuplets. So there were nine identical princesses to keep an eye on and protect while they tried to find the bad guy. And just as fate would have it, one of them died.

It was only thanks to Will's impeccable notetaking that they figured out it was not actually Daphne in the pale green dress, but Rowena who'd swapped their clothes and taken the place of her sister. A scheme worked up with an assassin she'd fallen in love with to steal the title of "eldest daughter" and have the first claim to the throne. She had been the youngest of nine, after all, she was far down the list before she'd see a crown.

But they solvest the mystery. Earned a good chunk of change from an incredibly distraught royal family who not only lost one child, but a second too. Everyone cheered for each other when they got the confession and defeated the enemies in combat. Tucked away the characters with mentions that it might be nice to dust them off and revisit the theme again another time. Make a regular habit of these Sherlock Holmes-like mysteries dipped in a little bit of fantasy flair and ass-kicking to close it all out.

It was fun. Mostly. But holding the session around his bed, where he felt like he was some weak little thing he didn't think he was… it hurt Eddie in a way he wasn't expecting. It itched against all the other feelings he was holding on to. And he didn't like it.

He was feeling cagey.

So, after they all said their goodbyes, he made a break for it.

Or, more exactly, he told Tracey he had to get out of there and begged for any way to make it happen. She was not happy. Looked at him down her hooked nose, through her thick glasses, from under crumbling mascara that rimmed her eyes. A scornful expression like she was trying to intimidate him into pulling up his covers and saying how much he actually liked it there.

But he stood his ground. And she admitted, him being a legal adult and all, that he could fill out an Against Medical Advice form - meaning he couldn't sue if he fucked himself up for leaving early - and he'd be free. So he asked her, very nicely, to fetch such a document for him. And she did. She still pestered him about calling or coming in the minute he felt bad. To watch himself for a high temperature, upset stomach, sweating or chills, bleeding, puss, or extra sensitivity around the injuries. So he swore up and down he would.

And he made it out.

His car was still at Wayne's hotel, wherever that was exactly, so Eddie just hopped the bus and made it downtown. He didn't have an exact plan, but he was not going to go home. That trailer was practically a fallout zone and wouldn't make for much of a shelter at that point. And he also didn't want to even figure out where Wayne was pitched up at. Because he was bound to go stir crazy there just the same as he had in the hospital.

He ended up on the idea to stop by a certain video store to annoy a certain pair of employees and whatever poor souls decided to shop there on the day Eddie Munson became a truly free man.

“What? Am I not pretty enough for you, Robin?” Steve asked.

His voice dripped with offense, like the discussion at hand was the cruelest thing anyone had ever said to him. They'd been making plans for Robin to ask Vickie on something more obviously a date. To help bridge that gap between girl friends and girlfriends. Robin had suggested something more like what she and Steve do anyway, getting together at someone's house when there are no parents home for a movie. But that also painted what they do as being inherently romantic and she gagged. Now, Steve was on some tirade about being a wonderful date and she should be so lucky.

He leaned against the shop counter and struggled to pop his hip out in a way that could even come close to feminine. But none of the shapes were there, and Robin could only look at him with pity. Not an admission of defeat.

“As much as I love you, Steve…” she tried to soften the blow,” You already know the key thing keeping us apart is my particular interest in…”

”Oh, right.” Steve's tone dropped, and he cupped his hands on his chest as if it was the first time the thought had occurred to him,” Boobies. I don’t have those for you.”

The comment caused Robin to crinkle her nose in a sharp cringe,” Stop calling them that!”

“Why?! It’s what they are! Not my fault you can’t handle the proper word for them!” he pushed.

“ANYWAY!” she tried to take control of the conversation,” I like them a lot, so stop pressing it. It's starting to get really sad.”

“Alright, alright, I'm hearing you, but what if I turned like this.” Steve turned around and arched his back as he shyly looked over his shoulder at Robin. Trying to pull off a more pin-up pose. Like, because she couldn't see his front, she could forget he was missing the pair features they both enjoyed so much. Like it made him girly enough at all.

Robin tried to hold back her snickers at his display. Steve closed his eyes and shook out his hair behind him for effect. He put on a pretend sultry voice before asking her,“ Does this do it for you?”

“What did I just walk in on?” Eddie froze in the open doorway.

As Steve's brain registered that the question didn't come from Robin, he snapped open his eyes and jumped out of the pose. Some kind of less-than-manly shriek flew up from his mouth, and all too quickly he practically tumbled over the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest to cover himself behind it. As if he was even topless in the first place. He wasn't, but he still felt pretty exposed.

“Can't you read the sign?!” Steve griped. A pointer finger shot out to where the “closed” side of the board was clearly facing out the door to any foot traffic on the sidewalk.

Robin was less focused on Steve's cause for concern and complaint. Instead, she joyfully exclaimed,“ Eddie! You’re out of the hospital!”

“Yup, doc declared me as less than ‘healthy as a horse’ but not likely to bleed out at any moment, so I've been released on good behavior for bedrest at my own home while the wounds, you know, do their thing and scar over.”

“If it’s bedrest, shouldn’t you be, ya know… in a bed? Resting?” Steve questioned him. Maybe a little pointedly, but hey, he was allowed to feel a little sour over Eddie walking in on his and Robin's nonsense. That stuff's supposed to be private.

“Didn’t really feel like hitching a ride across town for a quiet hotel room packed with Wayne's and I's stuff while he finishes the rest of his shift.” Eddie excused,” Plus I’d miss out on whatever the hell all this is. So I’ll ask again; what did I just walk in on?”

“Steve’s just really sad that he’s not pretty enough for me.” Robin mused teasingly. Figuring that context was innocuous enough for the present company.

“Oh, man. Tough break, Princess Harrington. My condolences.” Eddie said, putting one hand over his heart and the other on Steve's shoulder like he actually meant to console the man's wounded pride.

Steve swatted away the gesture immediately. And then he decided something new about Eddie being a member of the party.

”You two are insufferable!” he said with a pair of aggressive finger-pointing,” I don't like this duo! I don't need the two of you ganging up on me! It's unfair!”

“Wait till we get Dustin in on the action too. Three on Steve seems like fine odds.” Eddie added just to see the way it made Steve twist up his face. He even started getting a little red!

Through it all, Eddie and Robin found some kind of understanding between the two of them. An understanding of how fun it was to push all of Steve's buttons. And somehow, they still secured invites to his place for dinner. Maybe it was their wicked pair of sad eyes, maybe it was more of that “feeling way too bad for everyone” gene he's got, but Steve let them both pile into his car while he made his way home.

Eddie met their European guests, shook more hands, and made more small talk. And by the end of the meal, Steve would say he narrowly survived the onslaught of teasing. Steve ran Robin back to her place and stayed parked right outside until she buzzed him on the walkie and said she wasn't having a panic attack in her room again and he needed to clear out before someone accused him of stalking. Eddie and Steve laughed, and as the driver wondered where he was sending Eddie off, he admitted he didn't know.

Still hadn't even called his uncle to find out which spot across town he was camped up in.

And somehow… that conversation ended with another invitation to Steve's house. That time, one to spend the night. Eddie was eager to accept. A bustling house of kids and the most random assortment of adults sounded like the exact opposite of falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat beeping on a machine next to him, and Max's a few feet away.

And thanks to an already stacked dance card - the Byers and Co. on the couch, Joyce and Hop sharing the master, Murray laid claim to the first guest room, the Antonovs in the other - there was really only one place with any spare room without tossing one the injured men to the floorboards.

And that was to partner up and share Steve's bed with him.

It started with Eddie trying to break the ice. Pointing out the grid pattern painted on Steve's walls and hung up on his curtains. Mentioning that it was nothing like how he imagined the King of Hawkins slept. It looked more like a cage than anything else.

Steve shrugged, agreed with the sentiment, and tried to focus on grabbing his own pajama options and getting the night over with. As awkward as it was shaping up to be. But drawing attention to his closet, drew attention to the desk and chair right in front of it. And the denim vest hanging on the back of that chair, which rightfully belonged to Steve's most recent guest.

“There it is!”

Steve turned around and followed Eddie's eyes to the battle vest he'd accidentally borrowed for too long.

“Oh, right! Sorry.” he picked it up from its perch. “Didn't mean to steal it. Just forgot it was there a little.”

“Wow. I let you dress yourself in my battle vest - watching out for your delicate purity so that it might not be besmirched - and you forget about such a deep moment we shared?” Eddie lamented the tragedy. Wondering to himself if it would be too much to try and force a tear.

“I didn't mean I forgot about it like that. Just- I was trying to figure out what to do with it, and I forgot to give it back.” Steve quickly handed it over,” Here.”

Eddie barely looked at the item before he asked,“ What to do with it? That sounds a little spooky. Did you have some kind of black magic spell in mind that you needed it for? You're not gonna steal a lock of my hair after I fall asleep, right?”

“No. Absolutely not. I, just, I was wearing it while I was all gross and sweaty and bleeding, so I figured the same rules as borrowing gym clothes applied, and I should wash it before I gave it back.” Steve tried to explain,” But you have so much stuff on it I didn't want to get ruined, and I wasn't sure how to go about it, and everything has been so insane all the time-”

“I get it. Worry not, Stevie.” Eddie tried to release him from whatever pressure he put on the idea. “Plus you don't really wash a battle vest. It's kinda supposed to go through hell and come out the other side with some authentic grime.”

“But another guy's blood and sweat? That's pretty extreme.” Steve commented. But his face said he leaned more towards 'nasty' than just 'hardcore.'

“You don't understand the culture. That's okay.”

“Alright. Well, then I guess my dilemma turned out for the best.” Steve ducked back into his closet.

Eddie more carefully examined his vest for all the wear and tear it saw. None of the patches or pins looked like they were in danger, but there were some new loose threads he could think about playing with. As he looked it over, he commented with a chuckle,“ Yeah, if you wanna uselessly panic about other stuff and wind up saving the day through inaction, there's the Vecna guy I don't know if you've heard about. I think those magic powers could really speed things along and get us all to summer break in one piece.”

Steve quickly turned out of the hanging garments and urged Eddie,“ Don't let Murray hear you strategize, or he'll barge in and spend an hour actually trying to make a plan out of it.”

He said it so seriously Eddie couldn't even get a response ready while Steve slinked out of the room to go across the hall. To change into the jammies and take care of his nightly routine in the comfort and privacy of his own bathroom. And before Eddie knew it, he was left alone in Steve Harrington's room. Sitting crisscross on the edge of his bed, a pile of denim in his lap, and far too much awareness of how fresh their friendship really was.

The rest of the house had gotten pretty quiet. They'd all turned in for an earlier evening after a long afternoon of work at Hop's cabin and some folks still adjusting their internal clocks to Hawkins time. A big, big house, packed with people, and yet there wasn't much noise.

Steve came back to his room just after a few minutes. He tossed his clothes from the day in a dirty laundry hamper and sat on the other side of the bed. Pushing down the covers before he swung his legs up under them. Eddie followed suit. Standing up to put his vest back on the desk chair for the time being, and climbed into the bed next to his roomie for the night.

And then Eddie and Steve were left to each other. In Steve's bed. Laying still as statues to get some well-deserved rest.

And it was nerve-racking. All of Eddie Munson's nerves were racked. He couldn't help thinking about how the whole situation was so far off the map for him a few weeks ago. On the 22nd of March, Eddie Munson held a broken glass to his neck, and everything's been so strangely on the up and up since. Minus the whole almost-dying part. They'd been forging a bond, a weird one, given such a distinctly separate history. But there they were. Having a sleepover in the famed King's bedroom.

And it wasn't any easier for Steve to deal with. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It shouldn’t do or mean anything to him. Steve's done this sort of thing with Robin tons of times. Falling asleep next to someone you’re not attracted to should be easy and simple. But it wasn't.

Like, with Robin, they were both allowed to stretch their limbs out in all directions and hug the night away before they tried to kick one another off the bed. But, with Eddie, they were both practically on the edges of the mattress with their backs to each other so they wouldn't accidentally touch or even look at one another. And Steve wasn’t falling asleep. Instead, he felt like he couldn’t move without bothering Eddie.

What if his stitches were still super sore? What if he was lying about the vest and was actually bothered about the condition it was in? What if he was mad about his mom's ring?

And all of a sudden, Eddie started talking.

“You didn’t, by the way.”

Which didn't exactly make any sense as the first thing either of them had said in almost thirty minutes.

“What?”

“Stomp on me.” he clarified.

And it didn't immediately click. But after a second, Steve remembered what he said while Eddie was still in the coma. The part about “I was a bully,” and “I hope I didn't bully you,” but “I wouldn't really remember,” and “Tommy called it stomping on the ants” like that excused any of it. So that was the stomping Eddie was thinking about.

“Oh… so you…“

“Heard that bit?” Eddie finished for him. “Yeah. When our girlie woke me up in my head, some stuff outside started coming through. When there were a lot of you in the room, I couldn’t really follow any of it or understand what you were saying. But you stopped by on your own. Said that bit. It was easy to hear then.”

“Sorry. I honestly didn’t think you’d catch any of it.” Steve tucked his hands in closer to his face. More thankful than anything else that they couldn't see one another for this conversation.

And yet, Eddie joked,“ You planned to waste such a moving monologue on deaf ears? For shame, Harrington, for shame.”

“I just-” he tried again,” I’m sorry-“

But the other wouldn't hear it. “I just said you didn’t do it. Alright? Nothing to waste ‘sorry’ on.”

“But I must have, at some point.” Steve reasoned.

Unsure why his idea was to argue that, no, no, Eddie, actually he did mistreat you, you must be mistaken, think harder. But Eddie didn't waver. His voice was sure and even. And he simply affirmed the fact.

“You didn’t.”

“But-“

“I’ll admit, I convinced myself once or twice that you orchestrated all of it. Sent out your legions of jocks and goons to carry out your dastardly demands for you while keeping your hands clean. But, I know now that I was wrong about that idea.”

And with a pang of guilt that gnawed at his ribs, Steve spoke quietly,“ But I know I’ve said it.”

Freak. He called him The Freak. He knew he did. Hell, he said it just weeks ago when Dustin invited him to the game. He knew that.

But Eddie didn't dwell on it. Didn't deem it the important part.

“Not to me. Not once did you shove my face in it.”

“I’m still sorr-“ but Steve felt a smack on his shoulder. Carefully, he looked over to see that Eddie was laying face up, no longer with his back to Steve. The wall of air between them was gone, in one way or another. So Steve shifted over, joining him in laying back until he was looking up at his ceiling too.

“And do you always do that?” Eddie asked as he tried to get comfortable.

“Do what? Apologiz-”

“Talk through movies?” Eddie interrupted, steering the conversation way out into the left field,” I mean, I was unconscious, but I still heard your whole commentary on Grease. Very strong opinions you have on that one.”

“Okay, Sandy did nothing wrong and shouldn't have had to 'compromise' with Danny at the end just because he lied about their relationship to his guys for points. Had her story been about actually wanting to be less of a goody-two-shoes for her own reasons-”

Eddie stopped him before he really got going,“ That is what I'm talking about. Seriously, dude? And you had something specific to say every minute of it. Was practically watching it with you even with my eyes closed because you'd remind me what beat we were on without fail.”

He bumped into Steve's shoulder with his own. Small laughs bubbled up. And the whole situation didn't feel so awkward and stilted anymore.

“Yeah, I guess.” Steve agreed with a smile,” Rob and I are usually pretty chatty when we watch ‘em together. I think I picked it up from her.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re a real Chatty Cathy, Steve Harrington.”

“That such a bad thing?”

Eddie paused to think on it. But quickly decided otherwise. “Nah. I wouldn’t say so. Felt way less lonely with someone talking.”

Steve felt some pride settle back into himself,“ Then you’re welcome.”

“Oh, great,” he groaned,” Now I went and gave you a big head about it.”

“I think most people would tell you I already had one.” Steve pointed out.

“A big, stupid head.” Eddie took a finger and poked Steve right on the side of his forehead. But before Steve could really say anything else, he tugged the blanket up and rolled over in the bed. His back was up again, but it didn't feel so insurmountable. It was comfortable.

“Go to sleep,” he commanded. As if he wasn't the one that started their discussion in the first place.

Steve rolled onto his own side,” You go to sleep.”

A comeback fit for a first grader. My, how the mighty have fallen. But sometimes falling could be a good thing. Brings a person back down to Earth. Reminds them of all the other people that didn't climb too tall on their high horse.

And that kind of falling, the kind that Steve Harrington did, didn't make him shatter into broken pieces on the ground.

Some parts of a person need to break. Explicitly so they can put themselves back together. And maybe the breaks were always going to be there. But maybe he'd be the better for it. Maybe they all would.

#Totally didn't forget to post this for a while what are you talking about I've never-#Yeah #I did. Sorry Tumblr I need to get back into the habit of checking in on y'all over here. Working on it.#Anyway #I hope this chapter was everything a person could hope for a more?#I really wanted to develop the trauma they're all kind of going through - Robin has some PTSD - Eddie has some survivors guilt - etc #And more importantly than just the pain they are going through is the reality that none of them are alone #Even if they feel alone for a little while. Someone always shows up. And they don't have to sit in it by themselves anymore.#Also some Karen Wheeler X Dmitri Antanov because when I'm not making her sapphic that's my fave guy for her <3 #And I really really really love the scene in season 3 where Karen tells Nancy not to give up on what she wants from this life #And you can kind of see there's a little bit of longing as she says it to her. Pushing away maybe a little bit of regret what she didn't?#And I never see that stuff addressed - so I'm doing it #These characters are so complex goddamn #Also the lil D&D bit was heavily inspired by Drawfee's Drawtectives on YouTube and everyone should watch it #I dm-ed a similar session and it's so fun highly highly highly recommend #And I finally threw two character into an 'and there was only one bed' situation #After all my years of writing fanfiction I'm finally hitting first base #I have a lot of reasons on why I wrote that Steve didn't really bully Eddie in HS - I might make a whole discussion post about it #I know it's a pretty divisive headcanon - but after all the times I've poured over this show - this feels like the most accurate answer #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Steveddie #Steve x Eddie #Nancy Wheeler #Robin Buckney #Ronance #Robin x Nancy #The Fruity Four #Stranger Things

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hungermakesmonsters · 6 months

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Catch Me If You Can

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done , Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : this one is pretty PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing in this chapter is warning worthy, but the story in general is going to turn pretty smutty from chapter 3 onwards and there will be strong language throughout. I’m not going to list all the different ways things get smutty unless I think it’s something that could be considered triggering. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.5k

A/N : this started life as an original piece that I couldn’t finish, so I decided to make a few little changes and turn it into a fanfic. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a tumblr, so sorry if I fuck this up. The story as a whole is going to veer recklessly between cute fluff and some much darker things with themes of obsession, will-they-won’t-they, and running from past trauma. Both Billy and reader are messy AF.

CHAPTER ONE

You checked your phone for what had to be the hundredth time. A measly two minutes had passed but the August heat made it feel longer. You found yourself thinking about how you were going to kill your roommate for making you chauffeur her around in the height of summer, trying to ignore the way the sticky New York heat made your tank top cling to your body beneath your unzipped hoodie.

You’d given up on waiting in the car after the first ten minutes - the AC in the old VW was busted, making it even less comfortable than sitting on the hood of the car under the glaring sun. Still, the parking lot was nicer than some of the places you’d found yourself waiting for your roommate over the years. That was the thing with Tammy; everyone around her lived on her schedule, did what she wanted to do. And you were no exception.

Actually, this whole thing was your idea. A friend, albeit in a very loose sense of the word, had told you that ANVIL were hiring office staff, and you’d passed the message along to Tammy who’d - well, she’d turned her nose up at it at first, she’d even laughed at you. But Tammy needed a job and ANVIL had a reputation for paying well.

So, you agreed to drive her to the interview and even agreed to wait.

Every now and then someone would appear - honestly, it looked like a steady stream of models leaving the building, the sorts that Tammy fit well with - but, for the most part, it was just you, mindlessly scrolling Instagram, trying not to think.

Until you saw him.

He came out the door and just stopped. It looked like he was breathing a sigh of relief at being out of there, and you couldn’t help but smirk a little at that. Poor guy.

Despite the weather he was dressed in a suit, dark hair slicked back, tall and slender. You suddenly felt out of place, like you shouldn’t be there, like you shouldn’t keep watching him, but the longer it went without him noticing you, the harder it was to try and tear away your eyes. He answered his phone as you watched, even without being able to hear a word, you knew he wasn’t happy. When he turned you got your first glimpse of his face and -

Fuck.

Your eyes dropped back to your phone, knowing that he’d seen you watching him. Fingers swiped across the screen, jumping from Instagram to emails to Facebook, looking for anything to reply to. Your eyes stayed fixed on the phone even as you heard the shuffle of boots on gravel moving towards you, trying to act like you hadn’t been staring at him even as his shadow fell over you.

“Do you make a habit of hanging out in parking lots or are you here to interview?” His voice didn’t sound quite the way you’d imagined - though you weren’t really sure why you’d been imagining his voice to begin with. There was an edge to it, something that sent a shiver up your spine.

“I’m waiting for someone,” you answered, squinting as you looked up and the light seemed to halo around him.

“Friend?” he asked.

“Roommate,” you answered awkwardly before shaking your head, “but, yeah, she’s my friend too.”

You weren’t expecting him to laugh at that, for him to smile the sort of smile that probably had women all across the five boroughs ready to drop their panties. (And that was another thought you weren’t sure you should be having.)

He didn’t move, for a few moments he just looked at you as if he was taking measure, and all you could think about was how there was a bead of sweat rolling down your back. You probably looked completely gross while he was standing there in what looked like a professionally tailored suit that probably cost more than you could make in a year, with not a hair out of place despite the oppressive heat.

“Does she make you wait around for her a lot?” He asked as if it was the strangest thing he’d ever heard, like he’d never allow anyone to put him in your position.

“She doesn’t drive,” you shrug, “anyway, this is nicer than most of the places she drags me to.”

“Yeah?” he prompted with little more than a raise of his eyebrow.

“Tammy’s an actress - at least, she wants to be. So I end up waiting around while she auditions.”

The look he gave you was surprisingly sympathetic. “Actresses can be hard work.” You didn’t think to ask how he knew that.

“Yeah, I’m just glad she gets to keep her clothes on for this interview,” the words slipped out and you instantly grimaced but if he noticed that, he didn’t let it show. “Not like - I mean, she’s not doing porn or anything. Not that there’s anything wrong with women wanting to -”

You could see him fighting back a laugh the more flustered you got.

“I mean, it’s not the nudity that’s a problem - you should read some of the scripts, they’re just so bad.” You finally managed. “It’s like ‘oh no the serial killer caught me with his knife and now my tits are out’.”

Silence fell again and you watched him glance away, daring to hope that he was done with you. He’d walk away and forget all about you, and you’d spend the rest of the day replaying this moment in your mind, cringing at how ridiculous you are.

“I was going to grab a coffee, your friend is probably going to be another hour or so, so if you want you could always join me?”

You quickly started coming up with reasons why you couldn’t, why you shouldn’t. But, it was just coffee, it wasn’t like he was asking you to leave the country with him. And, besides, you weren’t sure you could stand the heat much longer.

“There’s a place nearby that does amazing iced coffee,” like he was reading your mind. And that sold it.

“Yeah, sure, that sounds great,” you decided, sliding off the hood of the car in a less than graceful manner.

Once you were standing you could really appreciate the height difference between the two of you; you almost had to tilt your head to look at him. You pushed the thought away, taking a moment to check that your car was locked up, following after him when he started to leave the way.

As you walked, it dawned on you that you still didn’t know his name, so you clumsily introduced yourself.

“Billy,” he responded with a smile, realising that he’d made the same mistake you had, “come on, it’s just across the street.”

You both fell into silence as you left the parking lot, but it wasn’t long before it got to be too much for you in an awkward, uncomfortable sort of way. It struck you that he didn’t look uncomfortable though, in fact you were already pretty certain that he wasn’t the kind of man to get uncomfortable easily.

“So, do you work at Anvil?” You asked him, wanting to fill the silence but also wanting to know a little bit more about him. You weren’t sure what he found so funny about the question but the smirk he shot you left you feeling like you were missing something obvious and he found your ignorance amusing. You started to fiddle with your sleeves, gaze dropping from his.

“Yeah, I work at Anvil.” And then silence fell again.

When you looked up again you were outside a little coffee shop that was so small and non-descript that you’d completely missed it when you drove by it earlier. He held the door open for you and let you slip inside before following, watching as you breathed a sigh of relief as the cool air from the AC hit. When you moved towards the counter, you realised he was only a step behind, towering over you almost possessively.

The girl behind the counter smiled at him first before bothering to spare you a glance.

“What would you like?” He asked. You quickly realised that he was intending to pay and that just unsettled you further.

“I can get mine,” you were quick to tell him. You didn’t need him paying for you and you’d never been the sort to accept drinks from men you didn’t know, not even coffee. So, you ordered your drink, your favourite iced coffee with syrup, before he ordered his, an americano with an extra shot of espresso. But before you could pay, he reached over and tapped his phone on the reader, flashing you what you could only describe as a darkly mischievous smile.

“You didn’t have to -” you started to tell him.

“I know, but I wanted to,” Billy shrugged, “besides, I owe you for keeping me company.”

The girl behind the counter shot you the sort of look that made you think that she would have been more than happy to keep Billy company herself and that she saw your presence there as an annoyance. You guess that was probably the effect he had on a lot of women.

“Here you go, Billy, just how you like it,” she smiled as put your drinks on the counter, leaning and fluttering her eyelashes at him, completely ignoring you. Billy gave her a muttered thanks and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as you reached for your drink.

As you turned, Billy placed a hand on your back, leading you towards a table by the window, far enough from the counter that it felt a little more private. You sat on the edge of your seat, eyes nervously wandering towards the door for a second and, when you looked back, you found him watching you. There was a confidence about him that was getting harder and harder to ignore, he was clearly a man who knew what he wanted and exactly how to get it - so, what did he want from you?

Company? Or maybe you were being used to make the barista jealous? No, that didn’t feel right, he’d barely even looked at her, anything between them was obviously one-sided. Maybe you were there to keep her at bay so he could drink his coffee in peace? Though from looking at him you knew he had to be used to women fawning over him, with those dark eyes that looked right through you and the shirt that fit so perfectly you could make out the muscles beneath as he shrugged off his jacket.

“What?”

Shit. You realised that you’d been staring at him and your cheeks started to warm. He didn’t look bothered, in fact he was still smiling at you, amused, almost as if he wanted you to look.

“Sorry,” you apologised, dropping your eyes to the table, quickly thinking of a way to move the conversation along, “so how long have you worked for Anvil?”

“Too long,” he answered and, again, there was that little laugh, that little smirk telling you that you were missing something. Billy obviously didn’t want to talk about himself though. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Bike messenger, mostly...” you shrugged awkwardly knowing how guys like him looked down on people like you. You weren’t ashamed of what you did; it paid the rent, put food on the table, you just hated having to defend it to someone like him who probably made money in his sleep. He surprised you by not reacting - there was no look of superiority, no pity, just a nod of his head.

“Mostly?”

“What?”

“You said mostly,”

“Oh, right, yeah. I do some work as a photographer. Just freelance and a couple of exhibitions,” you shrugged again, “it’s actually how I found out that Anvil were hiring.”

“Really?” It was hard not to notice how intently he was looking at you, like he was hanging on your every word. You started fiddling with your sleeve again.

“Yeah, sometimes I do work for The Bulletin if someone is out sick, and my friend Karen knew Tammy was looking for a job, so -”

“Karen? Frank’s girl?”

“Yeah,” you’d never met him but Karen had been talking about him a lot since they got together, “we were talking and I guess I let slip that we might have to move to a smaller apartment if Tammy can’t find a job…”

“High rent?”

You nodded. “Higher than either of us can really afford, but Tammy’s parents pay half and we split the rest.”

“Her parents still pay for her?”

“They’re loaded and I guess they didn’t want her having to live anywhere that might be ‘dangerous’,” you offered, but you knew how it sounded. You and Tammy were both in your thirties , it was strange that they still went out of their way to provide for her, but you didn’t fault them for wanting to look after their child, something that your own parents had never seemed inclined to do. The thought sent you down a rabbit hole and had you falling silent, wondering how he’d look at you if he knew the truth about you.

You took a drink, letting your eyes drift to the window and the street beyond. His eyes stayed firmly on you and you could almost feel him watching you. It made you tense and shift uncomfortably.

“What kind of photography are you into?”

“Mostly candids, but since I moved to New York, I’ve been really getting into urban stuff and I’ve been playing around with architecture shots.” Billy listened, looking interested in everything you had to say in a way that had you smiling again.

“And you put on exhibitions?”

“Little shows sometimes, yeah.”

“I’d love to see one sometime.” He kept smiling at you, all his focus completely on you, and you found that you didn’t entirely mind it. It was nice talking to someone who seemed to care about what you were actually saying. “Did you study photography in college or -”

“No, I never got to go to college.” It wasn’t until you’d said it that you realised how much it gave away; that college wasn’t your choice, that you’d been stopped from going.

“I never went to college either,” Billy offered, as if he sensed your sudden discomfort. You nodded, eyes dropping to your fingers, tugging at your sleeve again. “Do I make you nervous?” He asked suddenly, pulling your attention back towards him. He was still smiling, still looking at you in a way that made you feel like he was taking you apart in his mind, piece by piece.

“What? No - that’s not -” you stumbled over your words, embarrassed that he’d caught on so easily. You took a second before letting out a sigh. “It’s not you, I just don’t do this a lot.”

“Which part?”

“The whole going for coffee with a random guy I’ve never met before.”

“Is that because guys don’t ask or because you don’t normally say yes?” He asked but didn’t give you time to respond. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I already know the answer.”

An eyebrow raised, unimpressed by the assumption; the situation might have been making you nervous but you weren’t going to take shit from a stranger. “Oh yeah, and how’s that?”

“You’re too attractive for men to ignore.” Billy shrugged and your eyes rolled. Yikes, what a fucking line.

“Maybe I’ve got a boyfriend,” you retorted, “or a girlfriend.”

Billy laughed. “You know that wouldn’t stop most guys, right?”

“Would it have stopped you?” You were pretty sure you knew the answer to that.

“I dunno, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked. “Or a girlfriend?”

“Do you?”

“Have a boyfriend?”

“Or a girlfriend.”

“Would you be here having coffee with me if I did?” He asked, turning the tables so effortlessly that it made it seem like flirting was an olympic sport and he was a gold medallist.

“Would you have asked me if you did?” You answered back, trying to fight back a smirk of your own at how ridiculous this was becoming.

“Do you always answer innocent questions with more questions?” It was obvious he was enjoying whatever this was, his dark eyes practically shining with excitement as he watched you from the other side of the table.

“You call that an innocent question?” You retorted, letting out a snort of laughter.

Billy let out another laugh, holding up his hands and signalling surrender.

“Maybe you should come work for Anvil, I bet you’re a pro at interrogations.” And that really made you laugh, and the sight of it had his gaze fixing more intently on you and his smile widening.

“I don’t think I have the necessary qualifications to work somewhere like that,” you shrug, “besides, I like my job.”

“Really?” Usually his question would have pissed you off, but there was something in the way he asked that made it seem like he was genuinely curious to hear your reasons rather than it being some kind of judgement.

“Yeah, I get to see the whole city, there’s no office politics to deal with, and I get to listen to music all day,” you found yourself shrugging again, and his eyes were still fixed on you, like he was fascinated. So, it felt like your turn to ask; “what?”

“Nothing,” he sat back and lifted his mug, taking a long drink, “I think it’s great that you like your job, there’s a lot to be said for enjoying your work.”

“Do you? Enjoy what you do, I mean. With Anvil?” Whatever that was.

“Some days more than others,” he smiled at you.

“And today?” You asked stupidly, before considering the implications and how it might sound.

“Today’s definitely getting better.”

Your eyes dropped to your drink again, teeth running over your bottom lip. He wasn’t talking about you, he couldn’t be talking about you, but some part of you wished he was. But you wouldn’t have known even if he was, you’d never been good with those sorts of things, flirting and separating a little bit of fun from something more. Billy was an enigma to you in the same way that most people were, but there was something about him that made you almost want to break all of your rules, just to see what might happen.

“What do you do for Anvil?”

“These days I mostly deal with the bureaucracy,” and the look on his face told you just what he thought of that.

“So you don’t - I don’t know, go on missions, all Seal Team 6, kicking down doors?”

Billy let slip a laugh that was equal parts amused and offended.

“Seal Team 6?”

“What?” You laughed, awkwardly.

“You know a lot of Anvil are ex-Marine Corps, right? I’m an ex-Marine.”

“Is there a difference?” You knew there was though, honestly, you couldn’t remember exactly what it was, and the look on his face was priceless enough that you didn’t regret asking.

“Okay, wow, you’re really going to make me explain it to you?” You nodded in response. “Okay, it’s -“

Before he could start on whatever lecture he was about to give, your phone started to ring, loudly - loud enough to make you almost jump out of your skin. (You must have knocked the volume while you’d been frantically trying to look like you hadn’t been spying on him earlier.)

“Fuck, it’s Tammy,” you tell him before answering.

Moments later, you’d wish that you hadn’t. She was at the car waiting for her ride home and you were nowhere to be found, which was apparently so inconsiderate of you. You finished the call with a sigh and looked at Billy.

“Guess her interview didn’t go well,” you took one final drink before pushing back your chair and getting to your feet. “I’ve got to go, if I leave her standing around out there I’ll never hear the end of it, it’s been -“ you stopped as he got to his feet.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“No, that’s fine, really, you don’t have to.”

“I insist.” His tone making it clear that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m sorry, she’s just -“

“You don’t have anything to apologise for.”

When you started towards the door, he was right behind you, again staying close to you. Outside the oppressive heat hit you again and it pissed you off; you’d been having a nice time and Tammy just had to ruin it. Now it was over and you’d never see him again.

Billy didn’t say anything, even as you picked up the pace. You wanted to get this all over and done with, you wanted to drive Tammy back to the apartment and - you didn’t know. All you knew was that you didn’t want to be around her, you didn't want to have to deal with her bullshit, and you didn’t want to think about the man walking a step behind you.

You didn’t see him frown at you, you didn’t dare look back because it just felt childish. You’d met him forty minutes ago, he’d probably forget you by the end of the day.

You rounded the corner, about to cross the street when you felt his fingers around your wrist. All it took was one gentle pull and you were turning back towards him, stumbling into his arms. It felt like a moment pulled from some romcom; you spilled forward into his arms, your hands against his chest. And then you looked up, finding those impossibly dark eyes staring down at you.

Billy looked at you like he was trying to decide something, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. The, less than a second later, he was kissing you, pulling your body against his. And you let him. Later you’d tell yourself that it was shock but, in that moment, you wanted him to kiss you for no other reason than he was nice; you’d had fun getting coffee with him. It took you a moment to return to your senses, to use the hands on his chest to gently push him away.

“Billy —”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself. I’ve been thinking about doing that for the last thirty minutes.” He grinned. “Go to dinner with me.” You couldn’t tell if he meant it as a question or a command, but it definitely sounded more like the latter. Maybe he was just that used to women doing what he wanted them to do.

“I think you’re supposed to ask that before kissing someone,” was all you could think to say with a nervous laugh.

“Well, now I’ve asked…” And a second later, his lips were on yours again, tongue running against the seam of your lips, desperately wanting to deepen the kiss, and you let him. For a few sweet moments, you gave yourself over to him - to a random stranger you’d known for all of forty minutes.

Finally, you pushed him again, taking a step back, out of his arms and back to reality.

“I can’t,” is what you told him once you’d managed to find your voice again.

“Can’t or won’t?” He dared to try and take a step closer, forcing you to take another step back.

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?” Honestly not sure you even wanted an answer from him.

“So I can figure out how to change your mind.” He explained, like he thought it would really be that simple

“You can’t.” But that just made him laugh.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got no idea what I’m capable of.” And there was something dangerous in that; you didn’t know what he was capable of. “And I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

“I told you; I don’t do this.”

“This can be whatever you want it to be. I’m very adaptable.” He reached for you again, fingers brushing your cheek before you managed to pull away.

He looked ready to say something else, like he had some line on the tip of his tongue that he was sure would convince you, his lips even parted ready, but nothing came out. You weren’t sure why until a moment later.

“Oh my god, there you are! Do you know how long I’ve been standing around waiting for you?”

Tammy. You didn’t know whether to be glad of the interruption or pissed at the tone she was taking with you.

“Sorry,” Billy stepped around you, towards Tammy, “I distracted her.”

“That’s -“ and then the impossible happened. Tammy actually fell silent. You decided that it must just be the effect that Billy tended to have on women.

“I’m Billy,” he offered out his hand and Tammy was quick to take it, no doubt falling for his charms already. And Billy, well, obviously he’d managed to get over whatever momentary insanity he’d been suffering from when he kissed you and had moved onto the next victim.

Only that wasn’t exactly what happened.

“Oh, I know who you are, Mr Russo. I’m Tammy.”

“Wait… what?” If anyone heard you, neither bothered to respond. How did Tammy know who he was?

“I hear you’ve just been interviewing to come work for me,”

For him. Not with him.

Your stomach dropped, remembering something Karen had said about a Russo, about how Frank called him a pretty boy and Karen thought he was a bit of a womaniser. He kept talking to Tammy but you barely caught a word, too stuck on everything that had happened and how you’d let it.

“Come on, Tammy,” finally, you snapped out of it and started to walk, “if you want a ride home we need to go now.”

You didn’t even wait for an answer, you just let her say her goodbyes to Billy.

“Let me know when you’re free to go for that dinner,” Billy called after you, You chose not to answer, some part of you hoping that Tammy wasn’t going to follow because you knew what would come next.

Fumbling for your keys, you had them in hand before you got back to your car, not daring to look behind you. What had just happened? Your lips still tingled from his kiss, you could still taste him, could still feel his hand on your hip. And some part of you was inexplicably still annoyed that the moment was over.

Tammy followed behind you, calling after, barely making it into the passenger seat before you started the car.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed and you steeled yourself for the oncoming argument, “you are the best friend ever.”

There was no sarcasm, no anger - she was actually smiling at you. What the hell did she think you’d done?

“What?” Throwing the car into reverse and trying to ignore the fact that Billy was there, watching you as he made his way back towards the office building, his office building. There was something unknowable in his dark gaze as it followed you and, again, you found yourself thinking about how you had no idea what he was capable of.

“Flirting with Billy-fucking-Russo to get me a job at Anvil.”

CHAPTER TWO

END NOTES : if you made it this far, thanks for sticking around. Like I said, this is something that started out as an original piece and I was struggling to find the energy to finish it. I’ll be trying to release a new chapter at least once a week, though the second part will probably be up in a few days time because the first two chapters are really just to help set things up, and I know that’s not what people are interested in. I already have the first five chapters pretty much written, they just need some editing before going in the queue and, in total, I have around 20 chapters planned. I’ll be working on this through NaNoWriMo too, so how much I get done might change the posting schedule a little.

Likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, though this fic will be posted regardless of engagement because I just need to get this story out of my head once and for all.

Anyway thanks for stopping by, I hope you have a wonderful day wherever you are!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader #cmifyc ff

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Note

Hiiiiii

Okay so I am absolutely obsessed with your writing .

Every day I check Tumblr to see if you've uploaded anything

When they move in together how do you think they will spilt the chores ?

And do you think their aesthetic would change as they grow older ?

Thank youuu

Love youuu

OH i love this. okay.

when they move in together, how do you think they will split the chores?

they do not.

they are in an interesting situation: nico has never had to do chores in his life. as a kid, he was the son of Literal Hades and an aristocrat, he for sure had people doing that shit for him. in the lotus, they presumably had room service. he may have had to do a few chores at the military school, but a) they weren't there for long and b) as an older sister with a younger brother, bianca was doing that shit for him. she ordered him to make his bed, he did a horrible job, she huffed and did it herself because it's more of a pain in the ass to make your brother do it again than it is to do it yourself. bianca i get you. after that he was homeless, so there was obviously no cleaning there, and then he lived in his father's palace. he has never so much as done a load of laundry except maybe hastily with a public washroom sink and a bar of soap. he barely knows what a mop is.

will, on the other hand, has been in charge of both a cabin and a literal infirmary since he was 13 years old. on top of that, if i am not mistaken (i'm so sorry i still havent read toa and tsats im getting there i swear), he grew up on a farm. his ass knows how chores work, in fact i would bet money that he gets a little obsessive when it comes to cleaning. he is acutely aware of how many germs are on every single surface ever. he cleans and he does it a lot.

this could go really badly, because habit would indicate that will would be doing all of the housework and nico none, which is Bad For Relationships.

however:

nico really likes will.

will is a massive hypocrite who overworks himself. he also is a bit of a control freak.

nico is also very, very observant.

i think, in the beginning of their friendship, even, nico noticed that will, like bianca, would let the onus of cleaning and tidying fall to him because 'no one else does it right', and also, maybe, it's just easier not to fight people about it. i think this would bother him. i think he would, in his inability to, like, be normal, impulsively challenge will to a cleaning contest.

and. like. will is a competitive person, okay. maybe not about things he knows he can't win, but when he knows he's good at something? he is not letting that shit slide. look at how fast he was to dunk on octavian, how prickly he got when nico doubted his ability to outrun the romans. if nico, who will knows damn well has done like four chores in his life, tries to challenge will, mr. antiseptic is my closest friend solace, to a cleaning contest?

he is going to sweep the floor with him.

pun absolutely intended.

from there things kind of spiral. at first it's a dorky ass learning curve, because nico loses every cleaning competition so so badly and quit fucking laughing, solace, you dickead, the windows are not that streaked and also watch me spray you in the goddamn eyes, huh, how do you like that and it's just kind of...fun. for the first time in a long time cleaning up doesn't make will quietly bitter.

plus, as an added bonus, nico helping will clean up makes it less invisible when he does it. now people are starting to notice that, no, the infirmary does not magically clean and organise itself, someone does that. and maybe a few more people pitch in to help. and maybe will realises, and maybe he smiles gratefully at nico when, for the first time in years, he has two entire days off, back to back, in the summer, for the first time in years. and maybe nico thinks he is going to collapse into dust because gods will has a nice smile. not that he cares or notices or anything.

do they need to keep having competitive chores forever?

no.

but does it make both of them kind of shyly pleased and happy to remember how they started? to remember how much their friendship means to them, first and foremost, and not just their relationship?

yes.

(also, by the gods, nico is going to beat will at laundry one day. he is. as soon as he learns to fold without creasing the whole stupid shirt it's over.)

how do you think their aesthetic would change as they get older?

not much tbh.

will is pretty happy in his cargo shorts, which, mood. and nico is very committed to his Prince of Darkness look.

they are gonna have to get used to like...regular weather when they leave camp tho. i think will might begrudgingly have to get used to pants. he hates jeans with a fiery passion and any kind of slacks, but he will accept track pants.

he is also into shirts with horrible horrible puns on them. especially medical puns. he and nico frequently fight over who gets to buy shirts with bone puns on them, because they both find it funny. their closet (lol) is quickly morphing into one monster.

will complains about wearing shoes every single time he has to wear something that isn't flip-flops (again, understandable). he likes buying off-brand white converse and customizing them, though, so those are acceptable.

he refuses to wear boots under literally any circumstances. there could be three feet of snow on the ground and dumbass will be wearing chucks.

while their t-shirt situation is pretty similar, nico literally doesn't wear pants that aren't jeans. sometimes he sleeps in jeans. (not to make will's eye twitch, noooo, of course not, sometimes he just Reasonably Forgets or is Reasonably Too Lazy to get changed)

nico does also, on occasion, wear button ups, sleeves folded to just above the elbow.

will likes these very much.

especially the green one.

the green one is Very Very nice.

as for hair, nico grows his out to shoulder length so he can tie it back. he doesnt keep it much longer than that, because too long and he looks like bianca -- he always looks like her, and he never forgets that, but its important to him to remember her while still being able to think of himself as a separate person. he cuts it when it goes past his shoulders.

wills hair is literally untamable. it grows where it pleases. he hasnt had a haircut since he was six years old and somehow his hair doesnt grow down to his waist. he has no idea how long it actually is. they tried to measure it once but it changed every two minutes. the literal only time it resembles anything close to maintained is when he wears it in two french braid pigtails :) nico likes to buy him elastics with little charms on them. he wears them to suit his mood, he has a whole collection.

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neevblanc · 11 days

Text

„curious” ♡

a/n —hey all! hope ur doin' well, drink water if you haven't! have this as a treat. it's 2k and some more but i cant be bothered to check for specifics. (p.s sorry if the tarot aspects of this are wonky! i did my best to research and i pulled reference from my sister's experience with tarot cards/reading.)

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Dazai Osamu x GN!reader

Tags— 22/ada dazai, flirting?, pre-slash, don't question why reader's given a key, reader works under ango but he's also they're dad figure, it's a whole thing, mentions of sskk though not explicitly platonic or romantic, take that as you wish, dazai's infuriating habit of burying feelings and then one day he'll die

CW/TW— dazai. (/j, none i can think of.)

note — reader's ability in this is based on one that my friend chose for our self-ship au. "Teacher of Truth by Saneatsu Mushanokoji: The user can employ tarot cards to gain insight into the past, current, and possible future situations. The user needs to know what each of the cards mean in order to properly interpret what they say." it's from a post on tumblr, but I couldn't find it for the life of me! i'll credit if i can. anyway, it's been tweaked a little so i'm here to explain. in this, reader can choose to use their ability during a reading or not, but the tarot cards are always personal to them. people they know will sometimes show in the cards if they're important to them.

The next time Dazai sees you, it’s well before the ADA opens for the day. He’d admittedly had a rough night—sleep evaded him like always, and he hadn’t had dinner because of his own laziness. His futon was impossibly comfy. How was he meant to part with its loving warmth?

The Door to the agency creaks open, the sound not unlike the groan of the cafe floorboards only steps away. One of Dazai’s favorite activities was purposely seeking out the creaky floorboards and dancing on them so loud Kunikida would have to berate him, of course. He was intimately familiar with the annoying sounds this old building could make.

The office is darker than during working hours, but he notices the meager amount of lights still switched on. Distantly, he knows Kunikida would’ve blown a gasket about the electric bill if he had found them still on. He takes a step into the room-

Something rustles. Downstairs, an old radio plays a song he does not recognize. Pigeons flutter and coo from outside the window.

Somebody was in the agency, and had it been any of his fellow detectives, he’d have known.

“Hmmm, what’s this,” he mutters absently, volume low enough to alert whoever it was had decided to trespass.

”Dazai-san?” a soft voice calls, and Dazai pauses for a moment. A short, hollow sound follows—cards shuffling. He bites the inside of his cheek. How curious.

”Last I checked, you don’t clock in with the rest of us measly agents. Surely Ango’s fuming by now?” He hums, stepping into view of you. you’re sat at Atsushi’s desk, bag perched on top of Atsushi’s empty report trays. Dazai almost smirks at the sight— silly Atsushi, always rushing to complete everything in a timely manner. One day, he’d get him to turn them in later, hopefully months later- like he did.

”Hm, no. I clocked in earlier, but Ango wanted me over here early. Something about a mission I have to hand over to Fukuzawa-dono. I got a key from him last time, so I just let myself in.” you explained. Dazai pulled his own chair out and collapsed into it, peering down at what your hands were busying themselves with.

He realizes they’re tarot cards. Thick and sturdy under your fingers, you set them up neatly in front of yourself. The backs are a matte purple, decorated with silver details that glint as the sunrise light hits them for just a fraction of a second. The illustrations seem to flicker with movement, almost like snapshots of time shifting through an old camera, frame after frame.

”What’s got you so busy?” he asks, exaggeratingly leaning over to look at the cards. You laugh and smile, expression wobbly. He notes the change. You briefly shake out the bracelet laying on your wrist, almost nervously. You lay the last card on the desk’s surface. Atsushi’s cute cat clock ticks from where it’s placed near his report trays.

“I do readings for the day early in the morning, just in case. Sometimes, I don’t even use my ability.” You explain, keeping your voice low so as not to break the morning peace. Dazai glances at the cat clock. Soon, the secretaries and Kunikida will clock in and begin their work day. He focuses back on you and grins, intrigued.

“Anxious, then? I guess the ability to see the future will do that to ‘ya.” Dazai sighed, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his hand. He was content to watch you finish setting the cards down in a formation he admittedly did not understand.

” What does that one mean?” he says, pointing to one of the cards. Its flickering surface shows a woman with mint-colored hair pulled up into a bun. Behind her, there’s a black mass, and she seems to be standing in a graveyard. There are two Xs at the top of the card. You redirect your attention to the card he’s hovering his finger over and smile.

”That’s Judgment—renewal, reflection, awakening, or reckoning. For a personal reading, it would mean going through a period of self-evaluation or maybe even trying to understand the people around you and your situation more.” You explain, seemingly done with the spread and setting down the other cards nearby. Dazai purses his lips.

”Sounds gloomy. Lame!” He huffs, upset by his choice. you gasp and narrow your eyes.

”Don’t call them lame! You’ll piss them off, Dazai.” You hiss, smacking him on the arm. Dazai grins and leans closer, smile growing coy.

”Really now? And how exactly does one do that?” Dazai prods. You stick your tongue out and cross your arms.

“Not telling. Now shut up and let me do my reading.” You grumble, eyes flicking over the cards. Dazai whines and throws himself forward, almost shoving you off of Atsushi’s chair.

”Dude!” You yelp, hands scrambling to grasp his coat as he rights himself. Dazai grabs you by the shoulders and shakes, intent on being the biggest possible nuisance.

”That’s boring! Do your reading laterrrr; it won’t matter, right? Ne- do a reading for me! I wanna know my future,” He begs, grinning. You blink and scowl, pushing him away.

”First off, it would matter. Doing a reading later would be a completely different outcome. Just wait. All I have to do is interpret these. I’ll do yours after.” You grumble, adjusting their sleeves and settling back into the chair. Dazai harrumphs but settles into his own chair to watch you silently read the cards.

You focus back on the cards, and Dazai settles himself by watching you idly. You’re dressed in what you always wear to work, but it’s casual enough to know doubt have been breaking the dress code had you not been working under Ango for so long. There’s a small scrunch to your nose as you focus on your task, and Dazai can spot how you run your tongue over your teeth in thought. Dazai looks away pointedly. Taking a few breaths, he forcibly clears his mind. How odd.

”Okay, done.” You hum, straightening and starting to pick up the cards. He shifts so his whole body is faced toward you. You take gentle care of the cards, putting them back into the deck.

”Why do they flicker like that? You aren’t using your ability,” he asks, curious about the shifting images on the cards. You shrug.

”Don’t know. It happens no matter what deck I use, though I prefer using this one. The images just shift into the same ones most of the time, though some have changed over time.” You explain, shuffling the cards. Dazai reaches out and hovers over your hand before poking the back of it gently. You let him despite knowing the outcome.

The images on the cards still lying on the table flicker, completely uninterrupted, even as Dazai feels the shiver of his ability eating away at yours. He hums and pulls away. He hadn’t been paying attention when he jostled you earlier, but you were right- they were unaffected.

”Strange, but not unheard of. Some ability effects aren’t considered active enough for my ability to erase.” Dazai says, allowing you to continue. you finish and present him with the deck, pulling away when he goes to take them.

”Don’t be mean to them. They’ll be mean to you. You can’t even think anything negative; they’ll know. You’re gonna cut the deck in 3, okay? We’ll do a simple reading.” you explain, and only once Dazai agrees (crosses his heart and hopes to die!) is he gently handed the cards.

”What do you want to read? We can focus on love, or money, or your career, things like that.” You say. Dazai ponders for a moment before sniffing, mouth settled into a pompous pout.

”I want to know if someone will finally be interested in a double suicide with me.” He huffs. You scoff.

”You’re insane. Okay, so love. Think about that while you cut them.” You nod, giving him the go-ahead. He runs his fingers over the well-loved edges and slots his thumbs through the deck where it feels right, setting the individual cuts down on the desk before them. He tries to take it as seriously as possible, though thinking about love has always made him squirm and itch beneath his skin.

You reach over once he’s done and clear your throat, carefully picking the top cards on each deck and laying them out in front of him. On the left, the first card flipped is a wheel, seemingly in the sky and surrounded by clouds. The clouds float by calmly, though Dazai can’t find anything particularly personal to you the way some of the other cards would show.

It’s made a little more difficult considering the card’s orientation- upside down.

You hum at it before moving on. The card in the middle is revealed, and this one piques his interest. He grins a little at the image. Two figures hold goblets in their hands, strings of power rising from the cups and meeting above their heads to form a Yin and Yang sign. The figures are startingly familiar- one dark-haired, the other light-haired. Accents in their hair match each other, silver and black clashing and melding nicely. This one’s facing right-side up. The image flickers to show the energy that swirls around, occasionally circling their respective holders.

The last one flicks onto the wooden desk with a hollow sound. The image is soft, not unlike the first one with the blue sky. A sun takes up the upper half, rays pronounced against the sky. Ttheire’s a little kid in the illustration, their beaming face scrunched up in happiness. There’s a flag clutched in one hand, with the other gripping onto the mane of the white horse they’re perched upon. Sunflowers frame them, peaking over the illustrated garden wall behind them.

It’s an endlessly endearing picture, and from the smile, he has a feeling he knows who it is. Like the last one, it’s right-side up.

You settle your chin against your palm, leaning on the table with a hum.

”That’s….a really nice reading, actually.” You move to point at the cards. Dazai sits patiently with his hands on his lap. Nothing more fascinating than seeing someone in their element, he supposed.

”That first one is The Wheel of Fortune. Upside down, it’s a little darker. It represents your past,” you pause, looking at him for a moment. “I think for you, it’s focused on the feeling of helplessness—lack of power or control…like you had love but couldn’t control how and when you lost it,” you say, your voice soft. Dazai fights to ignore the discomfort building in his throat.

”Well, what can I say? My dark past haunts me,” he bemoans, and you huff a soft laugh. You move on to the next card- the cups. You look a little embarrassed by this one.

”This one is the present. Two cups represent…well, partnership. More specifically, the realization of a new partnership. This one can be pretty romantic. I guess you’ve got something to look forward to soon,” you say, pointedly ignoring the images of his two kohais. He grins, sparing you of the teasing. He didn’t know how well you even knew Akutagawa- but it was amusing to see everyone could see what those two denied vehemently.

”The last one is the future. You got The Sun, which is actually really sweet.” Through your embarrassment, Dazai watches a sweet smile grow on your face. He matches it easily.

“It means joy and success, for you in particular. It means…whatever or whoever your two cups is for, you’ll be very happy together.” You say, and Dazai sighs wistfully.

”Maybe someone will finally want to commit suicide with me! This news might keep me alive a day longer just yet,” Dazai coos. You groan and take a deep breath, seemingly ignoring him as you duck your head down and then start to put the cards back.

”You better hope you didn’t piss this deck off, Dazai.” you huff, glaring. Dazai pouts, cradling his face in his hands.

“What?! I followed all your rules; I would never,” he whines. You flip him off and busily tuck the cards into a soft leather pouch. He lets his hands drop and watches for a moment.

”Thanks for the reading,” Dazai says, his voice back to normal. You glance at him and smile.

”Yeah, no problem. It’s nice to read without my ability once in a while,” you admit, expression soft. He grins. Something stirs in his chest.

”You can read me whenever you want, lovely.” He purrs jokingly. You startle, flushing. You glare and kick him with your foot.

”Don’t say shit like that,” you mutter. Dazai whines out a laugh, having settled on teasing you until he could see the smoke coming out your ears.

Before he could continue, the door creaks open, and the overhead lights flick on. Multiple people come shuffling in, and Dazai can hear Kunikida conversing lowly with Fukuzawa. The secretaries also file in, chattering contently amongst themselves. Fukuzawa and Kunkida pause only to greet them both. you wave politely, and Dazai salutes them both.

you blink your eyes to adjust to the light now flooding the room. Dazai huffs and stands with a groan.

”Alright, I’ve got five minutes to get out of here. You’ll be going in to see Shachou, right?” He asks, stretching. you stand and nod, giving him a look.

”Where are you going?” you ask, picking up your bag. He groans at the way his back pops as he rights himself from his stretching.

”Home. I only came here 'cause I was bored. But in the long run, it’ll be a lot funnier if Kunikida’s mad all morning when I don’t show up~” He snickers. you shake your head, a smile pulling at your mouth.

“You’re so lame. See you, then.” You sighed, heading down the hall Kunikida and Fukuzawa had disappeared down.

”And yet you love me. ‘Till we meet again,” he calls, pointedly ignoring the yell you let out.

”Whatever!” you yelped, and Dazai let the agency door click closed behind him.

He grins. Curious indeed.

note — can you tell i love brothers! atsushi and dazai? also, the woman in Judgement is Mizuki Tsujimura, who I headcanon is pretty good friends with reader in this one. :) please let me know if there are any pronoun inconsistencies! this was originally written with she/her pronouns, and i did my best to fix it to match the gender neutral style i like to use for tumblr stuffs.

©neevblanc 2024 // do not plagiarize or repost

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #gn!y/n #dazai osamu x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x you #gender neutral y/n #neev.doc

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heyitsspiders · 2 months

Text

Lucifer x Transmasc! Reader - Falling for the Fallen Angel - Chapter 4

Errands

Charlie asks you to run some errands and things don't go as planned

Graphic violence in this chapter

a/n: moving all of this to tumblr is taking forever considering there are so far 8 chapters

Ever since that day Lucifer came around everyday. He’d always be talking to Charlie about something you just couldn’t make out and when you got too close he’d see you, smile, and hug you. It was adorable but very frustrating. What were they talking about? You knew it was none of your business but that didn’t make you want to know any less.

However, you never pushed for information. Even if you didn’t know, it did cause Lucifer to come over and you liked seeing him. He got in the habit of joining you while you were cooking and he’d talk with you about whatever he could think of, giving you soft kisses as you worked which always made you very flustered. He’d also help you set the table once the food was done. You had fallen hard and it was nice to know it was mutual.

Today he and Charlie were talking once more. Lucifer spotted you and did his usual greeting of “Hello!” and hugging you with that big smile of his. He was warm as you hugged him back, breaking away as Charlie nervously walked up to you.

“Hey, Twist, do you think you could run a few errands for me? I’m sorry for asking out of the blue but I have a lot of things I need to do-” She rambled.

You cut her off with a smile, “Of course! What do you need?”

She sighed with relief and handed you a list she had made, along with the money to pay for everything. She thanked you again and you were off. You would have asked Lucifer to join you but he had things to do as well. Oh well, you’d just have to make do alone.

You walked down the hill the hotel sat on and wandered into the bright, loud city. It was as busy as ever as you slid past people and made your way down to the market. You looked over the list again, Charlie wanted quite a few things that included some vegetables, fruits, and cleaning supplies. Seems you were just helping restock, easy enough.

You hummed as you walked, shoving your way past the crowds of people and finally entering the shopping district. You looked through the windows to see if any of the places held what you needed and stopped at a decently sized grocery store. You walked in, the bell above the door dinging as you did. You grabbed a basket and walked off to the produce section. You shifted through the vegetables, grabbing the ripest ones in each section and did the same with the fruits. Your basket already felt pretty heavy as you walked across the store to the cleaning supplies. Seems you just needed some paper towels, window cleaner and soap. Your eyes glossed over the shelves, looking for the aforementioned products until the white of the paper towels caught your eyes. You grabbed them and planted it in your basket, changing your search for the other two items.

Once you finished your scavenger hunt across the store you walked up to the registers and checked out. The total seemed impossibly high but you paid with the money that had been given to you and you walked out, the bags weighing heavily in your hands. You set the bags on the ground and checked the list again, double-checking you had grabbed everything. While reading over it you noticed an item you had neglected to get, which were… Children’s books? She listed a few specific titles she wanted, all of them seeming to revolve around loving one another and being kind. Yeah that checks out.

You picked up your bags and looked around, there had to be a bookstore around here somewhere. You started down the sidewalk, really wishing you had some sort of car as the bags dug into your hands. Look, you had done enough ‘one-trips’ to get you the strength to carry these bags, but after a while the bags became like knives to your hands so you stopped at a nearby bench to let your hands recover.

You flexed your hands as the deep lines on your palms slowly faded. You sighed. You needed to get out more. You watched the demons pass you, all in a hurry to their own destinations.

After your hands recovered and you regained your strength, you picked up your bags and continued your search. If there was a bookstore they were doing a damn good job at hiding it. All the streets started to blur together and you had no idea if you were walking onto new streets or the same one. Eventually you saw a store sign with a book decal and you nearly melted into the concrete with joy and relief. Next time you ran errands for Charlie, you’d ask for directions.

You walked over to the store and went inside. It was rather empty, maybe no one else could find it either. You rummaged through the books on the shelves. None of them were the ones you needed. You sighed. Was this not the right place? You groaned as you defeatedly walked back to the door.

“Hey!” A demon from behind a register called. “You better pay for what you took!”

You looked at her, confused. “Ms, I didn’t take anything, I wasn’t able to find what I needed.”

She glared at you, “Uh-huh, that’s what they all say. Now pay up before I call security.”

“Wh- what? But, I didn’t take anything!” You replied frantically. “You can search me if you want!”

“You wish! As if I’d ever put my hands on you,” She growled.

Was she being serious? You didn’t have time for this. You groaned again and walked over to her and handed her cash. “Here, I don’t know what I took but take this, it should cover anything I ‘took’.”

She grinned as she pocketed the money. She waved a hand at you, “now shoo, I don’t want to see your filthy face here ever again.”

That was fine by you, you didn’t want to be here ever again. You stomped out of the store, your blood boiling. You grumbled to yourself as you continued to walk around the endless city. You were near ready to give up when someone bashed the back of your head with a blunt object. You fell on your hands and knees, the skin on your hands getting scratched off as you landed harshly on the concrete. You spun around on the ground just in time for another blow to hit you, this time in the face. You could feel your nose pour blood and you blindly kicked at the demon. You heard them hiss as you made contact with one of their knees and you scrambled backwards, trying to stand up. The demon, who you now saw looked like a werewolf of some sort, pounced on you, grabbing your hands and pinning them to the ground. A butcher knife materialized in your hand as you thrashed, trying to stab them. Lucifer had taught you that all sinners have their own demonic powers and he had shown you how to use it. Yours just so happened to be cooking related.

The dog was stronger than you were and your attempts to get your hands free were failing. You kicked at their stomach with both of your feet, which allowed you a moment of freedom. You took this moment to move your weapon into the hellhound’s shoulder, which caused them to recoil and hold their shoulder. You scrambled to your feet and ran. You heard them growl and they ran after you. They were gaining on you quickly and you had no other choice. You flapped your wings, desperately trying to lift yourself in the air. You had never tried to fly, you didn’t think you could but you had to try. Your feet started to lift off the ground and you beat your wings, trying to get away.

Just as it felt like you were getting away a sharp pain shot through your left wing and you came crashing down on the asphalt. He had used your own knife against you, your weapon piercing your wing. Adrenaline fought back the pain as you tried to crawl away. You could hear the dog howling with laughter as he got closer. They crushed your ankle with his foot, stopping you. You cried out for help as the demon chuckled. You flapped your wings desperately, pain shooting through your body. The hellhound growled and gripped your wounded wing.

“Still trying to get away? Tsk,” their grasp tightened. “Let’s see how well you can fare without one of your precious little wings.”

Your eyes widened in horror as you took in his words, his claws tearing through the membrane of your wing and yanking a good portion of your wing off. You cried out in pain and agony, gripping the concrete.

They threw the useless chunk of flesh in front of you so you could see it. They barked out a laugh, “pathetic.”

You choked back a sob as they plunged the knife into your side for good measure. You gritted your teeth as you tried to summon another weapon but failed. Your strength was fleeting as you bled out.

The demon laughed from behind you. “Good luck, bitch!” They called out, walking away.

You waited until you couldn’t hear them anymore before you tried to move. You grasped the concrete with your nails as you used all your strength to move your body along the sidewalk, leaving a trail of blood behind you. You gave up on begging for help, it was clear no one was. The anger and spite that bloomed within you gave you enough strength to grab onto the side of a wall and pull yourself onto your feet.

You hobbled your way back to the hotel, focusing on just putting one foot in front of the other and fighting to remain conscious. Your vision felt fuzzy, the edges slowly fading to black but you fought it off. You couldn’t collapse in the middle of the city, you’d surely die. You gritted your teeth and continued, fighting back the sobs in your throat as pain rang throughout your bleeding body. Your knife still laid within your side, taking it out would only increase the bleeding so you left it in. It clawed painfully against your insides as you did your best to walk.

You could see the glowing lights of the hotel in the distance, you were headed the right direction, thankfully. Your vision blurred as you made your way closer to the Hazbin Hotel. Relief coated your pain, you’d be fine soon. You’d be safe soon. You just had to keep walking, one foot in front of the others. You could do it, you’d survive. You would live.

You failed to notice the sidewalk ending and stumbled onto the grass. You groaned. You couldn’t stand back up, you’d have to crawl up hill. Your nails dug into the ground as you shoved your body forward. You cried out for help, hopefully they could hear you now.

“Lucifer! Help! Someone, please! Please help me!” You sobbed, clawing at the grass.

You could faintly hear the doors open and a few voices. You then heard someone sharply gasp. Before you knew it someone landed by your side.

“Twist! Are you alright? What happened?” It was Lucifer. He was looking down at you, his yellow eyes scanning your body in a frantic manner.

He gently picked you up and six wings sprouted from his back as he flew you into the hotel. You melted into his arms. You had made it. You were safe. Your vision grew darker as more voices spoke up around you. You couldn’t help in your loopy state to feel guilty, Lucifer’s white coat was now stained with your blood. You looked up at him as he carried you into a room, his pupils now slits as he focused.

You finally gave into the pain and closed your eyes. You were in safe hands. You’d be okay.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #reader insert #x reader #transmasc reader #no y/n

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mikalara-dracula · 1 year

Note

What about drunk Shu?

🍷 Drunk Shu Hcs—

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor and aren't comfortable with slight NSFW and drinking/alcohol-related concepts. This is a fictional work and should not be taken seriously.

Caution: Unfortunately, Tumblr has a history of admins quarreling over completing carbon copy asks due to users sending the same request(s) to multiple admins, thus, resulting in unintentional plagiarism. With this, please DO NOT send the same request to multiple blogs as it can cause unintended plagiarism discord to other blogs across Tumblr. The word “plagiarism” stems from the early 17th-century Latin word, “plagiarius,” meaning “kidnapper.” So please, do not send in the same request to multiple blogs and make admins appear to be “kidnapping” other people’s work when it isn’t their intention. If this is to occur with any of my posts, please contact me so we can work something out.

Tagging: @liannelara-dracula

Hi there!

Thank you so much for requesting! I'm sorry that this took so long. This was so fun to write. Feel free to request again any time. :)

🍷 Seeing a drunk Shu isn’t common since he views getting drunk to be bothersome, especially with the hangover that’ll come the next day.

🍷 But still, every once in a while, Shu does drink to take his mind off things, especially when his music isn’t doing it for him, or his brothers have been too annoying.

🍷 Now, when it comes to vampires getting drunk, @liannelara-dracula and I have headcanoned that normal alcohol won’t do and that immortals need a special type of alcohol specifically from the demon world.

🍷 Here’s our post on alcohol in the demon world if you want to check it out.

🍷 With Shu is drunk, one can expect the unexpected because he totally peels away from acting like his usual self. It’s honestly a sight to see.

🍷 Shu has a habit of taking his clothes off when he’s drunk, mostly because the alcohol messes with his body temperature a lot and he ends up feeling all hot and sweaty.

🍷 Has walked around the house only in his underwear since he feels hot.

🍷 Even naked a few times, but this is pretty rare.

🍷 One time you were busy tending to your things and heard him come in, but to your surprise you turned around to see a smirking, naked Shu behind you.

🍷 Gasping, you turned around feeling caught off guard, saying, “Shu! W-what are you doing? P-put some clothes on!”

🍷 With his usual hazed voice, “It’s too much of a bother.”

🍷He even encourages you to join and get naked with him.

🍷“C’mon, Y/N.” He’d coax.

🍷“No!”

🍷“Heh, you say that yet your body says otherwise. Admit it, you’ve wanted to join me from the minute I came in.”

🍷“Shut up! I did not!” You’d defy.

🍷 Only becomes a sleepy drunk when he’s about to pass out from exhaustion, so you definitely have your hands full while dealing with him in his active drunk phase.

🍷And let’s just say, you end up chasing Shu around for a while to keep him out of trouble before he officially passes out.

🍷When he’s drunk, he wants to do so many things with you, like he has too much energy.

🍷"Y/N, let's cook something."

🍷"Why?"

🍷 "No reason."

🍷 It's canon that when Shu's drunk, he'll laugh until he cries if he sees something funny.

🍷 Like honestly, you could trip over something and this boi is laughing his ass off to the point of tears.

🍷 "Shu, I just tripped is all."

🍷 "Yeah, but it's the face you made though." He'd smirk, a laugh entailing soon afterward.

🍷 "Shut up."

🍷 Since you’re chasing him around to keep him out of trouble, he has a habit of picking you up and spinning you around for no reason.

🍷 Will pinch, spank, and touch your ass a lot, especially when you're not paying attention.

🍷 “Shu, quit it!”

🍷 “Who told you to be around me?” He’d smirk.

🍷 Will literally lick your ear out of nowhere just to get a reaction out of you.

🍷 Also likes to get into heated makeout sessions with you and loves leaving hickies on the back your thighs especially.

🍷 Becomes very suggestive about having sex with you on the living room couch.

🍷 Will sometimes pull you in to drink from you and claims that your blood is better than any alcohol.

�� But little do you know that him drinking blood only amps up his energy more when drunk, and like hell he’s going to tell you that.

🍷 If he goes into the kitchen, it’s very hard to keep him out of trouble.

🍷 Because he has so much energy, he has a habit of jumping up onto the table and starting to dance.

🍷 He even starts taking off his cardigan or whatever he’s wearing one piece at a time and has a move for each article of clothing he has on.

🍷 So dramatic lmao. xDD

🍷 And of course, he tells you to join him, but with Reiji’s china cabinets being around the table, you’re on pins and needles and want him to get out of there quickly before something breaks.

🍷 But to your dismay, Shu manages to grab you and pull you up onto the table to dance with him.

🍷 “Shu, we should stop. Reiji’s gonna get-,”

🍷 “Reiji who?” He’d say.

🍷 (Nice touch here @liannelara-dracula. Rei who? Lmao. xDD)

🍷 He even tries to take your clothes off while he’s up there with you.

🍷 “Shu!”

🍷 “What? I can’t be the only one without them.” He’d smirk.

🍷 But of course, it’s all fun and games until the table flips over and you both end up crashing into one of the china cabinets.

🍷 There goes Rei’s china xDD

🍷 Due to having so much energy, he turned one of the house's marble pillars into a stripper pole once.

🍷 Don't ask me how. xDD

🍷 “Shu, stop it! Your brothers might walk in.”

🍷 “Then let’s give them a show.” He’d smirk, pulling you in to join.

🍷 Likes to play tag with you when he's drunk and he's not fair about it.

🍷 Loves to chase you and uses his vampire powers even though you two decided not to since it wouldn’t be fair. But does he ever follow rules lmao?

🍷 Is also into playing hide and seek with you, and of course, is he fair? No.

🍷 “Loser has to do whatever the winner wants.”

🍷 “Fine.” You’d say, agreeing to his terms.

🍷 “If I win, we’re doing it on the roof.”

🍷 “Shu!”

🍷 And he makes damn sure that you lose.

🍷 In hide and seek, he likes to play the seeker, it’s the dog in him since he loves to scare you when he’s sure he’s found you.

🍷 Asshole.

🍷 Going back to his drunken state, at some point, Shu is going to run out of energy.

🍷And when this happens, he tells you to carry him around.

🍷 So with this, you end up helping him up the stairs to go to his room, but because all his weight’s on you, it’s kinda hard to help an a 5’11 dude up the stairs.

🍷 And because he’s so out of it, he ends up tripping and falls down the stairs with you, landing on top of you as a result.

🍷 “Shu, get up! You’re . . . you’re heavy.” You’d say, trying to catch your breath after the impact of the fall.

🍷 Reiji would appear out of nowhere, quickly asking, “What is all this commotion?”

🍷 “Um, sorry, Reiji.” You’d apologize, feeling awkward in this state since it was in front of Reiji. “Shu's a little out of it.”

🍷 “This is completely inappropriate, even for you.” The magenta eyed vampire would complain.

🍷 Upon hearing this, Shu would pipe up saying, “Huh, proves how much fun you have with a woman.”

🍷 “Shu, stop it!” You’d say, trying to ease a potential argument since you knew him and Reiji didn’t get along.

🍷 Reiji would sigh, finding this atrocious and not wanting to deal with him, remarking sternly before heading off. “See to it that he returns to his room. This house can't bear any more interruptions.”

🍷 When you finally manage to get him to his room, you figure having him relax would help put him at ease since he is running out of energy.

🍷 So with this, you coax him to settle down to take a bath, but of course he has to twist things.

🍷 “Fine, but only if you join.”

🍷 “Shu!”

🍷 Because you were out of energy yourself, having him bathe in his clothes was just fine.

🍷 And even when you managed to get him into the tub, it still wasn’t enough for him, his hand reaching for your wrist as he’d pull you into the tub with him, getting you soaking wet.

🍷 “Shu, look what you’ve done! I’m all wet!”

🍷 “Hm, I have that much of an effect on you and I’ve barely touched you.”

🍷 “Shut up!”

🍷 It’s canon that he likes to be dressed up by girls. It happened with Yui in one of the game routes.

🍷 So you can best bet that once you get his ass out of the tub, you’re the one dressing him since he’s lazy af.

🍷 Teases you endlessly while dressing him.

🍷 “Admit it, dressing me turns you on, doesn’t it?”

🍷 “Shut up!”

🍷 Since you’re soaking wet as well, he tells you to strip for him.

🍷 “What? Why keep them on? You can’t exactly go to sleep in those clothes.”

🍷 “Shu!”

🍷 When you finally get him to his bed, he’s honestly exhausted, but you’re honestly more exhausted than him.

🍷 But yet, he still persists on teasing you.

🍷 “So, are you up for it?”

🍷 “I’m tired, Shu. Let’s go to bed.”

🍷 “See? I knew you wanted to see me naked.”

🍷 “Knock it off!”

🍷 And when laying down with you, he’s still relentless in leaving you alone.

🍷 And since he’s famous for this, he has to clutch or spank your ass.

🍷 “Shu, stop!”

🍷 “You’ve been waiting for it all night. Stop lying.” He’d grin.

🍷 “Ugh!”

🍷 Ends up falling asleep with you in his arms because at some point he ends up becoming tired and softens up, leading him to be sincerely affectionate.

🍷 He blames his bruises on you the next morning, despite them being from the previous night when he fell down the stairs.

🍷 "See what you did? You couldn't control yourself."

🍷 "Shut up! You're the one that fell."

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #shu sakamaki #shuu sakamaki #sakamaki shu #sakamaki shuu #diabolik lovers shu #diabolik lovers shuu #anime #anime requests #anime headcanons #diaboys #dialovers #diahell #diabolik brothers

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malue-505 · 7 months

Note

Hi! Sorry for my absence, School has been kicking my butt 😭. Do you have any general hcs for the creeps?

-🫧 anon

Oh welcome back 🫧 anon!

School can be a pain in the ass so don’t be afraid to take a break off tumblr if you need to. Be strong, I believe in you!

As for general headcanon for the creeps, I’ll share the ones I remember for now and we’ll see which ones are the most intriguing:

Liu is two years older than Jeff in my AU. Liu did forgive Jeff after he attacked him, he understands that his brother was quite young and was overwhelmed by bloodlust at the time. Jeff and Liu currently have a very peculiar dynamic. Jeff knows that Liu forgives him but can’t bring himself to open up to him ever since all those events that happened 10 years ago. Liu wants to repair his relationship with him but Jeff is too distraught from seeing his brother alive and feels immense guilt.

In general, their relationship is very awkward. Liu tries his best to reassure him and has been incredibly patient but Jeff still can’t fully face his past, especially his past mistakes, fully.

Sully’s distaste for Jeff is quite reasonable, Jeff did try to kill Liu after all. Sully isn’t as bloodthirsty as he’s usually portrayed fanon-wise. Yes he has some moments, he’s very snarky, sarcastic and childish since he is 7 years old. But deep down, he’s just a 7 year old alter than holds some signifying trauma and that’s a role he has had to endure for a while. So his emotional outbursts are quite reasonable, especially in relation to Jeff.

Slenderman really likes chess, it’s probably his favorite hobby. He’s used to playing against his grandfather but nowadays he just likes to randomly invite any of the mansion residents to play against him. Even if they aren’t ready for it.

Also Slenderman’s birth name is Edward and he used to have long hair as a kid.

Trenderman is quite the well known fashion designer in a lot of Midrealm cities, one of his favorite models to work with is actually Jane. She didn’t think much of it when she accepted Trender’s offer but it turned out that she loved modeling and continued to model for him. Jane literally fits for almost all of his designs.

Sally has made pink aprons for all of the male mansion residents, enbies included. The aprons have their names or nicknames hand-stitched on the apron too. They wear it with pride whenever they are in the kitchen whether it be making breakfast or having a cook off.

Lazari is generally really artistic. She loves drawing (obviously), painting, poetry, watercolor, you name it. It’s part of how she copes with her trauma as a creative outlet but also because just loves being spontaneous and expressive because she wasn’t allowed to do that before.

Toby has made it a habit to constantly check his body for any wounds, scratches or generally any injuries he might’ve gotten without noticing. He checks every time before he goes to bed. Toby doesn’t really wear a bandage over his cheek gash, he only does if he isn’t wearing his mouth guard mask for a considerable amount of time. He doesn’t want it infected obviously.

Ben can be quite the prankster and quite the rascal. He’s acts like every 12 year old boy basically. Ben isn’t super powerful or anything, he has all the powers that is expected of his species (he’s in multiple categories, another post for another time).

EJ has a mini-fridge in his room full on kidneys, mostly because he hates going back and forth to the kitchen whenever he wants one. Man definitely has some anger/temper issues, he sometimes gets one of those days where he will yell at someone if they briefly glance at him “the wrong way.”

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haarrrys · 2 years

Text

play groups aren’t for daddies

wc - 1.1k

pairing - singledad!harry & daughter!amani

summary - in which harry worries, is kinda a helicopter parent, and amani is starting her playgroup.

(a/n not proof read so I apologize in advance for any mistakes + this was written months ago but I’ve only just decided to post it on tumblr!)

more harry & amani

as much as harry denied it, he could sometimes be placed into the category, "helicopter parenting." and no, it's not that he meant to be overzealous and protective but when it came to amani styles, his four year old– who harry's love ran unconditional and eternal for, he couldn't help it if he tried.

parents often found him over the top when this certain profound trait of his was displayed; whether that be tagging along on her playdates, or staying over at a sleepover, wisping her away from the kids and into his own comfort. he didn't trust anyone with her, even if he knew the parents and children on a personal level. he knew it was excessive, but if it was another worry not on his list then you could catch him playing dress up with kids decades younger than him.

he continued this habit, whether he realized it or not and it didn't seem to bother either amani or him until he found out from her therapist otherwise. she stated giving amani a play group, or daycare could help strengthen her social skills that sometimes were hindered due to being coddled by harry. (and okay, he took offense to that.)

yes she saw people, mainly his family, friends, and tour crew but when he listed it off in defense to the therapist only then did he notice, with blush becoming visible on the apples of his cheeks that he was definitely stunting her social growth by not letting her interact with kids in her own age group. (not that he did it on purpose, he just got used to having her around “his” people that he forgot she needed her own.)

so after a lot of research on the most safestest playgroups in his city he finally agreed to letting his daughter step away from the nest. yes 'nest', the therapist visibly cringed when he said it out loud. you can call him dramatic. he doesn't care.

harry stalled around the cubbies, checking over everything in his daughters book bag, obviously to waste time since he knew very well that everything she could ever need was in their. amani was getting restless as she watched the other kids play around with all the toys and games– but not her, cause apparently her dad had to make sure her blanket and extra set of clothes were packed numerous amount of times. his behavior was quickly noticed by the daycare teacher who was watching him. "everything okay?" the daycare teacher, ms.charlotte, as harry came to learn, asked them.

"everything's fine, m'just checking over her stuff." he said, realizing how much of an idiot he appeared to be.

"she could go play while I check over everything with you." she suggested, looking to amani first for approval, which harry sensed was good. it meant the teacher valued his child's comfort which was very important to him. the girl perked up, looking at her dad with hopeful eyes that he couldn't say no to. harry sighed, but nodded, only smiling when she squealed with excitement and ran off to the dress up box that caught her eye earlier.

once harry forcefully tore his eyes away from his daughter he put his attention back on the teacher.

"uhm could you just– tell me what she would need?" he asked, opening her overly expensive gucci bag, which had teachers eyes widening. "oh um of course. she would only need an extra pair of clothes, and a blanket for nap time. everything else is provided." she said, causing harry to look sheepishly at all the other unnecessary items he packed. "okay. what're the kids gonna be doing today?" he asked.

"–sorry if these are odd questions she's just never been away from me and.." he rambled, but ms.charlotte smiled and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. "I know the feeling. i cried the first day my son went to kindergarten, ––i could barely walk away from the door at drop off," she laughed, causing him to join in "it was a mess and i was so scared about how kids would treat him and if he'd be okay. but after awhile I realized as parents we can't always watch them, and that at some point they have to grow up and do things on their own. amani will be fine, I swear. she may miss you, and vise versa but she'll have loads of new friends and you'll have time to do things you need to do." she carefully put amani's book bag in a cubbie, then looked back at harry who seemed more relax.

"they're gonna have free time for awhile, then do crafts and have lunch time, read a book, have naptime then you can pick her up at six, but we officially close up at eight." she said. harry was nodding, making mental notes although he already had alarms and reminders set on his phone.

now it seemed nothing was keeping harry there. he knew the schedule, knew what she'd be doing, and knew she'd be in good hands but that wouldn't be enough to diminish the anxiety he felt for her being alone without his guidance.

but then, as he saw amani playing dress up with a girl, laughing at her new friend spinning around in an blue elsa dress he felt as if she'd be okay– like he had a father instinct inside of him that was telling him everything would be okay.

ms.charlotte had already walked away, getting materials out and preparing for the crafts they'd soon be doing. he knew he should walk away now, and that is was kinda creepy to just watch the children play but he wanted to say a proper goodbye. (as cheesy as it was)

he walked over, not disturbing the other children but close enough so that amani could see him. "bug?" he said, making amani lift her head to meet his gaze. she whispered something to her friend before picking herself off the floor, running over to harry. (which made one of the teachers advise her to instead walk, making harry giggle to himself.)

"yes? why're you still here daddy?" she asked, confused as to why her dad wasn't home by now. harry shrugged, "im going now, but ill miss you sooo much ‘kay?" he said, kissing her cheeks while exaggerating the noise, making her giggle. the staff were trying to hide it, but they were watching the whole adorable exchange. "ill miss you too, now go, playgroups aren't for daddy's!" she said, making him, and everyone watching laugh.

and for the first time, harry wasn't a helicopter parent.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #husband!harry #soft!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fiction #harry fic #dad!harry instagram #dad!harry styles #dad!1d #dad!harry #one direction #harry styles imagines #harry styles dad #harry x amani

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barbiewritesstuff · 1 year

Text

Church Encounters: Chapter 23

-- Sorry this took a while, life got busy! Also please don't be mad, this is 15k words... enjoy!

This fic is written in collaboration with @lgg5989 who will be posting this to her tumblr and her AO3

Previous Part

Taglist: @acarboni21 @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1998 @bbooks-and-teas @roosterscock @positivelyholland --

“Cupcakes are done!” Natasha said, popping her head through the doorway, her hair covered in four where she had brushed it away from her forehead, “I know I know, I look like whatsername from X-men.”

“Rogue?” Jake volunteered.

“That’s the one!” Natasha smiled,” Anyway, they’re cooling in the fridge, I can make the icing if you want but I don’t know if you want to frost them now or if you’re keeping that for tomorrow…”

“No, I want to get it out of the way, I think. We’ll be busy enough tomorrow as is,” you replied, slowly getting out of the rocking chair, placing Charlotte back in Jake’s arms so the three of them could snuggle while you worked.

“I made you a coffee,” Phoenix said, “It’s decaf though. I know y’all are only allowed like three cups total, my sister had to kick the habit when she got pregnant,” she explained. You hummed in agreement, placing one hand on her arm and giving it a gentle squeeze of thanks.

“So we’re making --,” you started, quickly checking your phone for Maria’s cake instructions, “-- a chocolate ganache for the chocolate cake, a vanilla cream cheese frosting with caramel drizzle for the carrot cake and a whipped cream frosting for the strawberry tier -- actually, I’ll do that one tomorrow, whipped cream frosting doesn’t last great in the fridge … I think we can make vanilla cream cheese and caramel for the cupcakes, what do you think?”

“Sounds great to me. What are we doing for the like outside decorations? How does she want it to look?” Nat asked, glancing over at your phone.

“White frosting over the entire cake, with a small chocolate heart saying ‘B + M’ like a carving in a tree,” you replied, “Easy peasy,” you smiled.

Making the frosting was the easy bit, you knew the recipes by heart now after years and years of baking and being the designated dessert person at every barbecue, dinner party and birthday party any of your friends had ever had, but as much as you enjoyed baking, cake decorating was your least favourite bit.

Still, you did your best to bring Maria’s vision to life. You whipped up the ganache and spread it between layers of the chocolate cake, made a well in the carrot cake’s cream cheese frosting to pour cooled caramel in, and painstakingly piped buttercream over every single one of the vegan cupcakes. In order to limit what you would need to do tomorrow, you also made the white buttercream that would cover the whole cake, making sure to add a drop of purple food colouring into the mix to really bring out the white.

You crashed down into the sofa, exhausted and horrified to find out it was already lunch. You mentally went through your pantry and fridge, wondering what you could cook up when the doorbell rang.

“I’ve got it!” Jake called, coming out of the nursery, still wearing his pyjamas. He made his way to the front door, patting down his hair to look a little more presentable before opening it.

“I bring lunch,” Beau announced, “And bad news, I’m afraid. The Seresin clan are stuck at the airport, the plane’s had a mystery malfunction and they don’t know when they’ll get there. I’m on standby to pick them up until then… I haven’t told Bob and Maria, obviously, they’re already stressed enough…”

“Bob was a wreck last night while we were fixing the car, Father Dan ended up sending him home while we fixed the car just so he could take a breather,” Jake said, “It’s all good, though, the car’s running again.”

“What was wrong with it?”

“Would not be able to tell you,” Jake laughed, “I’m not a car guy, they just told me what to do and I did it.”

“I would have thought you’d know something about cars, Jake,” Nat said, coming in with a pot of coffee for everyone and four mugs.

“Nat, please move in,” you sighed, gratefully taking your second cup of caffeinated coffee of the day into two hands. Natasha laughed, she took the seat next to you on the sofa, sitting as far away from Cyclone as physically possible.

“It’s weird seeing him outside of work,” she whispered in your ear, “He’s so… normal,” she added. You chuckled, “I keep thinking he’s going to glare at me and tell me off for reckless flying,” she said

“I wouldn’t have to, Lieutenant Trace, if you didn’t fly recklessly. I know Bob trusts you, but that doesn’t mean I have to give you carte blanche for every manoeuvre you can think of when you’re flying against Bradshaw,” Cyclone said, fixing her with one of his famous glares, “I like my son to come home in one piece.”

“Yessir,” she said, making herself as small as possible, like a student being told of by a teacher.

“Anyway, tuck in,” Beau replied, pulling little boxes out of the brown bag he had brought in. He placed one in front of you, removing the lid at the same time to reveal a portion of Lizzie’s infamous lasagna. Jake disappeared into the kitchen for a second, coming back with cutlery for everyone but before you could scoop a mouthful onto your plate, Jake’s phone rang. He picked up, putting it on speaker

“Well I’m fucking cursed, is this what I get for getting Maria --” Bob started

“Speaker!” Jake warned, “Beau is here, and so is Phoenix,”

The line went quiet for a moment before Bob answered, more calmly, “Right, thanks.”

“What’s gone wrong now?” you asked.

“The Dj was setting up, we had a power cut and the computer won’t start,” Bob sighed, “I’m cursed, I swear…”

“Calm down. I’ll come by and see what’s up, I might be able to fix it for you,” Jake said, abandoning his lasagna and pushing it towards you, “Give me twenty minutes to hop in the shower and drive over, though.”

He bounded up the stairs, skipping every other step to speed up the process. A few seconds later you heard your ensuite shower turn on and another moment later you heard it turn off as Jake stepped out to find some clothes to wear. Bob was still on the phone, talking to Phoenix and Beau as Maria talked to the wedding planner, telling them where she wanted things to go.

“Most of the out of state guests on my side have made it here okay, we’re having dinner with my mom tonight. She’s not met Maria, yet -- Oh, I’ve just realised, she doesn’t know I’m catholic… That’ll be interesting…,” he said, chuckling nervously, “Anyway, I better go before something else breaks… I don’t want Maria to have to deal with the stress all by herself…”

Jake barrelled back down the stairs, his own laptop tucked under his arm in case the DJ’s couldn’t be fixed. He kissed you on the lips, waved at Phoenix and clapped Beau on the shoulder before vanishing down the corridor to bid your napping babies goodbye.

“I forgot how much they slept,” Beau said as he watched Jake quietly close the nursery’s door, “And how tiny they are at that age,” he added.

“They’ve already grown up so much,” you replied, looking past Beau at the gallery wall of family pictures. While many were of just you and Jake, you had started adding pictures of the little ones too.

Taking centre stage was one of the first pictures you had ever taken as a family, albeit none of you knew it at the time, Bob had sneaked in after his first visit, having forgotten his jacket and caught all of you sleeping. You were laying on the bed, the babies were peacefully snoozing in their crib, and Jake had fallen asleep on a chair, his leg over one of the arm rests and his head resting against the wall behind him. Bob had sent it to you as soon as you woke up, and you had it printed two days after getting home. Although it was supposed to be a funny picture, you found it sweet and it showcased just how tiny the twins had been the day they finally arrived.

“Hmm,” Beau sighed, “Feels like the triplets arrived yesterday…They’re in primary school now… They can write and read a little. Goodness, soon enough I’ll have to worry about them dating,” he laughed but you could tell by the way his head hung low that he felt sad about it. Phoenix stood up, taking the empty cups and lasagna boxes with her to the kitchen.

“You grew up so fast,” he whispered, kissing your forehead, “One second you fit into my arms and now look at you…”

You stood up, grabbing the waist of his shirt to pull him closer and hugged him tightly, “I still fit,” you mumbled into his shirt, “I’ll always fit.”

You felt him smile against your forehead as he placed a kiss against your skin, “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you replied.

----

You worried over the arrival of the Seresins’ flight all night, but early the next morning you received the text from Beau saying that they had landed.

You opened the front door and shivered. While California didn’t know true cold weather, you had lived here long enough to shiver as soon as the temperature dropped below 50F, much to Annie and Audrey’s amusement. At the thought of them, a frown marred your face. Annie and Audrey’s flight had been delayed since yesterday. Lake effect snow from Chicago had hit Indianapolis, grounding their flights. You weren’t sure if they would even make the wedding, but you hadn’t given up hope yet.

You wrapped your knit cardigan tighter around you, hoping it would keep you protected from the wind but it proved no barrier against the breeze as you stretched out your arm to hug Sophia, who, in her puffy coat, was equally unused to the cold.

“Hello mama!” she said, her teeth shattering as she spoke, still cheerful despite the time and the lack of sleep. Their flight had landed three hours ago after a six hour delay. They had gone to the hotel to check in and shower, but the adults, full of giddy energy, had all opted to stay awake and come over.

“How are you feeling? How is the baby?” She asked. You paused for a moment, debating what to say. Jake had briefed you earlier that none of his siblings had been told about the twins.

“We’re all good!” you answered, deciding on the most diplomatic answer you could manage, one that was technically not a lie. You let Sophia through into the warm house where she settled herself onto the sofa, in front of the open fire, palms stretched out in front of her to warm herself up.

You looked back out towards the driveway where Giovanni Senior, Gio and Tony were unbuckling sleeping children and passing them onto Beau, Isabella and Alessandra to carry into the house. Leaving your post by the door you went to check up on the dryer cycle in the laundry room, you saw the timer had run out. You pulled warm blankets out, folding them into a laundry basket as you went and carried them all to the spare room, where you had set up mattresses and camp beds for the children to sleep in. Giving each bed a blanket, you made sure it all looked comfortable before taking Agostino out of his father’s arms and placing him down on a bed, his toy monkey held tightly in his hands.

“Where is yours then?” Gio asked with a grin, nodding towards his son.

“Still sleeping, you’ll meet them when they wake up,” you said, plastering a smile on your face.

“Oh come on, enough with the secrecy. We tried to get mom to tell us anything and even she wouldn’t budge,” he said, his voice rather whiney for a grown man, “Wouldn’t even tell us if it was a boy or a girl.”

You let out a quiet laugh, “You’ll just have to wait and see! I think Jake wanted to be here when you met them.”

“Fine!” he huffed, “I’ll be patient. They better be f--” he started, trying to censor his swear “--firetrucking cute.”

“Firetrucking?” you asked, barely trying to hold in your grin.

“Silenzio,” Gio replied, sticking his tongue out at you. He exited the room and you followed up behind, crossing Tony in the corridor.

When you emerged into the kitchen, you found Isabella already puttering about, talking to Jake in Italian as she searched through cupboards for the premium Italian coffee grounds. You always kept a small amount for Isabella who simply refused to drink ‘any of that American shit’ as she called it.

“Bellissimo! È bello vederti!” she exclaimed as soon as she spotted you, engulfing you in a bone breaking hug. Beautiful! So good to see you!, “Sembri in salute,” she added, stepping back a little so she could properly look at you. You look healthy.

“Mi sento in salute, se non si contano la privazione del sonno,” you replied, dusting off whatever remained of the duolingo course you had started, and never finished after first meeting the Seresins. I feel healthy, if you don't count the sleep deprivation.

Your attempt raised cheers, Tony and Gio enthusiastically clapping and Alessa letting out a couple of ‘Whoop whoops’ of celebration while Jake beamed at you from the other side of the room.

“Dov'è il caffè, tesoro? Non posso bere questa merda americana,” Isabella asked, getting right back to business. Where is the coffee, darling? I cannot drink this American shit. You walked around her, opening one of the cupboards she hadn’t managed to search through yet and pulled the small tin out from the back, handing it to her with a smile.

“Shh!” Alessa suddenly said, putting her index in front of her lips, “Ascoltare,” she whispered. The entire room grew quiet, listening out for whatever Alessandra had heard. Quietly, as if talking to himself, you heard Christopher’s little voice. Jake moved to get to the nursery, but he was almost immediately pushed to the side and into Giovanni Senior by Gio.

Giovanni Junior booked it to the nursery and for a second, no one else moved. Your gaze crossed Jake’s and suddenly, as if everyone else had made up their mind at the same time they all stood up and ran. Jake followed right behind, passing in front of Tony and your sisters-in-law but not quite making it to the door before Gio. Both reached for the door handle at the same time, Gio’s hand landing underneath Jake’s, the weight of which pushed the handle down and the door swung open revealing two cribs, two names painted above the beds and two babies.

“Buon Dio,” Tony said. Good God, bringing his hand to his forehead, “Ce ne sono due.” There are two.

Jake pushed past his brother so he could step into the nursery to soothe Christopher, Tony stepping in next to Gio to take his place, effectively blocking the door and any hope to see into the room for Alessa and Sophia who had resorted to standing on their tiptoes, straining their necks to catch a glimpse of the babies.

“Bontà Graziosa” Gio sighed. Graceful goodness.

“Cosa hai detto?” Alessa asked, touching Tony’s shoulder to grab his attention. What did you say?

“Gemelli? Gesù Cristo…Non fai le cose a mezze misure,” Gio said, his voice so low only Jake and Tony could hear. Twins? Jesus Christ, you don’t do things in half measures.

“Di cosa stai parlando?” Alessa asked, what are you talking about, getting more frustrated. She threw herself against her husband’s shoulder, causing him to stumble forward and her to fall though, “Gesù, Maria e Giuseppe,” Jesus, Mary and Joseph, she swore, “Sono gemelli,” They are twins, she called out to her sister-in-law.

Sophia gasped. Seeing you making your way to join them, she ran up and hugged you, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Hai avuto un taglio cesareo?” Did you have a c-section? she asked, looking horrified when you shook your head, “Sei più coraggioso di quanto lo sarei mai stato io,” You are braver than I would have been, she breathed. Sophia paused for a second, holding you at arms length so she could look into your eyes as she spoke, “Per favore, dimmi che hai avuto un'epidurale.” Please tell me you had an epidural.

You shook your head again, laughing at her expression of half horror and half reverence.

“Non sapevamo che avremmo avuto due gemelli. Lo abbiamo scoperto solo quando ha dato alla luce il primo,” Jake laughed. We didn’t know we were having twins. We only found out when she gave birth to the first one.

“I wouldn’t have had an epidural even if I knew I was having twins,” you said, “I had gas and air so it wasn’t completely natural,” you told Sophia.

“More natural than I would have ever wanted. I would have had morphine if I could, especially with Catalina,” she replied.

“Possiamo vedere i bambini o dobbiamo aspettare un altro mese?” Gio grumbled. Can we see them or do we have to wait another month?

“Li vedrai quando decideremo che puoi vederli. Hanno fame,” You can see them when we decide you can. They are hungry. Jake replied, raising an eyebrow at his brother. The crowd parted to let you through and he handed you Christopher after kissing his chubby cheek, still happily making noises by himself, trying to figure out everything his little voice could do. Jake walked back towards his siblings and into the corridor, closing the door behind him to give you privacy as you fed them.

“Sei svenuto?” Did you faint? Gio asked Jake as you emerged from the nursery, holding both of your babies against your chest

“I’m not you Gio, I’m not a coward,” he replied, winking at his brother.

Isabella gasped, seeing you arrive with your precious cargo, “Guarda come sono cresciuti!” See how they have grown! She exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air, crossing the distance between the two of you in two large strides. She fussed over the babies, petting their little cheeks and making cooing noises at them while they looked on with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Non dirlo, mamma. Sono minuscoli. Sono i nostri bambini piccoli,” Don't say it, mom. They are tiny. They are our little children, Jake said, flinchingat his mother’s words.

Giovanni Senior smiled, engulfing him in a side hug, “Saranno sempre dei bambini piccoli. Anche quando sono cresciuti. Anche quando hanno i loro bambini,” They will always be small children. Even when they have grown up. Even when they have their own children, he said.

“Ma cresceranno, è inevitabile. Un giorno ti svegli e sono tutti sposati, ma saranno comunque i tuoi figli,” But they will grow, it is inevitable. One day you wake up and they are all married, but they will still be your children, he continued with a sigh, tears welling up in his eyes, “Non sono pronto per oggi,” I'm not ready for today Giovanni whispered.

“Andrà tutto bene, papà. Starai bene,” Everything will be fine, dad. You'll be fine, Jake replied, turning around to properly hug his father, “Non è stato male quando tutti noi ci siamo sposati, andrà bene anche con Maria.” It wasn't bad when we all got married, it will be fine with Maria too.

Isabella shot him a look, “Ha pianto per due giorni quando ti sei sposato...Continuava a dirmi che non era pronto per far crescere il suo bambino,” she said. Jake looked at his father, mouth ajar, looking dumbfounded and amused. He cried for two days when you got married ... He wasn’t ready to see his baby grow up.

“Oh, papà! Sei un tale tenero!” Jake laughed but the blush spreading over his face betrayed how touched he truly was. Oh, dad! You are going soft!

“Va bene, basta. Basta!” Okay, that's enough. That's enough! Giovanni Senior grumbled, swatting his youngest son’s hands away from him in embarrassment, “Vediamo quei bambini. Maria sarà qui presto,” he added. Let's see those children. Maria will be here soon.

“Arriverà tra due ore! Sei solo imbarazzato” Jake replied smiling broadly, lunging away from his dad when Giovanni pretended to raise his hand at him. She will arrive in two hours! You're just embarrassed.

“Hai pianto al mio matrimonio?” Gio asked. Did you cry at my wedding?

“No,” Giovanni replied.

“Bugiardo,” Isabella laughed, “Ha pianto a tutti i tuoi matrimoni. Era molto triste vedervi crescere, ma è molto orgoglioso di ciò che siete diventati,” she said, going around to kiss all of her sons on their cheeks. Liar, he cried at all your weddings. He was very sad to see you grow up, but he is very proud of who you have become.

“Siamo entrambi molto orgogliosi,” she added. We are both very proud.

“So,” Sophia said, looking at you with eager eyes, “Who’s who and can I hold one?”

You laughed, quickly introducing the twins to the group and passing Christopher off to Sophia while you kept Charlotte to yourself. While you were having a much easier time allowing anyone other than Jake hold the babies, your panic still flared up sometimes. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, because you did, but having your babies in the arms of another felt a little too much like having someone rip a part of you away. Having Charlotte in your arms was just as much for your reassurance as it was for hers, she was the least sociable of the twins and tended to get panicky if anyone else so much as looked at her for a little too long.

After Sophia, Christopher was passed onto Tony, then Gio and then Alessa, and, after the commotion woke Luca and Agostino, your baby was passed on to the children who gently held him in their arms as they sat on the sofa, a little scared to move. Eventually, after your little boy had met the entire family, Jake took him in his arms again and Beanie breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Look at him, so happy to be in daddy’s arms. He knows he’s safe with you, Jake,” you whispered to him, leaning against his shoulder, “He knows who you are and he loves you,” you added, kissing the sleeve of his shirt.

The doorbell rang, making you all jump. You stood up and walked to get the door, swinging it open clumsily, Charlotte still laying in your arms, swaddled in a pale pink blanket. The wind and cold had turned to rain at some point in the morning and although the sun had risen hours ago, it was still dark out, thick grey storm clouds hanging low above San Diego. Maria stood on the doorstep, soaked through the bone despite Bob’s leather coat, holding a large blue shopping bag.

You stepped aside to let her in. She stripped off her jacket and kicked off her shoes and her wet socks, shedding her woollen cardigan at the same time.

“Ugh!” she groaned, “We’re cursed. I swear we’re cursed. First the cake, then the car, then the DJ’s stupid computer and now torrential rain… Oh! And I didn’t sleep last night,” she added, “I feel like such a hot mess,” Maria said, “Did morning sickness kick your ass this much?” she asked in a whisper.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make you a ginger and lemon tea. It helps with nausea. We can say it’s to fight off a cold,” you whispered back.

“You are my favourite sister-in-law, you know that?” she said, shooting you a wink, “Is this my darling baby niece?”

Maria leaned over to kiss Charlotte, leaving a perfect print of her red lipstick on her little forehead, “See this is why I told the makeup artist to use lipstick and not lipgloss. Lipgloss bleeds on everything,” she mumbled, using her long sleeve to wipe away the mark.

You chuckled, “Relax, it’ll all be okay,” you said, rubbing her arm reassuringly.

“I can’t relax,” she sighed, “I desperately want to relax but I can’t because everything is just going wrong.”

“Maria, are you healthy?” you asked sternly. She nodded, “And is Bob healthy?” you said. She nodded again, “And is the baby healthy?” you asked. She nodded again, “Then nothing’s going wrong.”

“I just feel like we’re being punished,” she admitted, “We’ve sinned against Him.”

“Maria, I don’t think the Lord would bother exacting vengeance on something -- I’m sorry -- on something so minor. He’s blessed you with a baby and He will bless you with a happy marriage so just try and enjoy the day you’re having. I know it’s chaotic and stressful, but there are blessings to be found in the hardest days,” you said, “Isaiah 41:10-13: fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. The Lord is with you and he will stay with you for as long as you let Him.”

“You’re right,” she said, “You’re right,” she repeated, a little brighter and more enthusiastic, “Everyone is healthy, I am about to get married to the love of my life and the Lord is with me, everything is going great,” Maria smiled, “But if anything else breaks, I swear I will cry.”

“I’ll bring tissues,” you grinned, “let’s get you that tea before you actually need it to fight a cold.”

You walked into the living room, dropping Charlotte off on Jake’s lap so he could hold both of the children, and continued on your way until you got to the kitchen where you switched on the kettle and prepared a teapot.

“Who wants tea?” you called out. Four hands shot out into the air while their owners continued the conversation they were having.

As you opened the fridge, Maria made her entrance, having dropped off her bag in the corridor where it could dry off on the welcome mat without staining your hardwood floor any more than you already had. You pulled out a small chopping board and a knife.

“You’re early!” you heard Isabella shout, Maria’s answer muffled by the hug her mother had pulled her in, “You’re freezing, bellissima,” she gasped, “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I’ll restart the fire, I think Y/n is making tea,” Jake said, standing up. You saw him hand the twins over to Sophia and Alessa and your heart wrenched a little before you forced yourself to ignore what was going on in the other room and got back to the task at hand.

You cut up the lemon, dropping it in a teapot before peeling and thinly slicing some ginger to go with it, you drowned it all in boiling water and topped it off with a healthy drizzle of honey, mixing it all by gently swirling it around. Once you were satisfied, you put it all onto a tray with cups and some biscuits and joined everyone on the sofas.

----

Once tea was done, Maria joined you in your bedroom so that you could help her into her dress. You had skipped out on tea early to take a shower and do your own hair and makeup while your children were being carefully watched by Jake and the family.

“Y/n, you look beautiful!” she exclaimed, taking in the deep emerald velvet of the dress you had chosen for the wedding. It was the first time you had dressed up since having the twins and you were feeling a little more self conscious than usual.

“Do you really think so?” you asked her.

“Absolutely, my brother isn’t going to be able to keep his hands to himself,” she said, a devious look on her face. “Thank you again for the tea, I feel much better,” she continued as she put her things down on your bed, “I was hoping no one would realise I wasn’t staying here anymore but apparently someone did some snooping.”

“Oh?” you asked, confused as to who would go wandering through your house.

“Dad said he wrote me a letter and that he went to put it in my room, but he found it empty,” she explained, a pained expression on her face.

You felt more at ease knowing that it was Giovanni, “What did you tell him?” you asked her as you took her dress bag, hanging it on the back of your bathroom door.

“I just told him Bob and I were doing what you and Jake did, where he sleeps in the guest room and I am in the master,” she answered.

“Do you think he believed you?” you questioned as you unzipped the bag for her dress.

“I’m not sure, I hope so,” she said, “Regardless, we are getting married today so it’s not like it’ll matter in,” she stopped for a minute, looking down at her phone, “Three hours.”

You let out a quiet chuckle as you freed the skirt of her dress from the bag, “Maria, this dress is beautiful,” you said, your eyes widening at the beautiful white material hanging in front of you. Maria’s dress was simply stunning. The gown was a pure, brilliant white. It had a simple strapless, sweetheart neckline, and the fitted bodice led down to a fluffy, full skirt that was every bit as princess looking as Maria was. Unlike what you were expecting, the dress was rather plain, with no beading or lace to be seen. It didn’t need it though, the snow white material was so beautiful, and with its silver underskirt, the dress was literally shimmering in the light of your bedroom.

“Thank you,” she said, coming to stand beside you, “I just hope it fits, I’m not too far along but I have a little bump forming.”

“I’m sure it’ll fit just fine,” you said with a smile, “Let’s get you in it!”

You helped Maria into the dress, only struggling for a moment with the zipper and buttons on the back before carefully pinning her veil into her gorgeous updo.

“I think you are going to kill him,” you said, your hands pressed over your mouth.

“I hope not,” Maria replied with a laugh, “I kinda need him.”

You cracked open the door to your room and peeked out into the hall before fully opening it and ushering Maria into the hall.

The two of you descended the stairs to find the rest of the family dressed up for the occasion, all except for Jake. When Maria entered the room everyone crowded around her, singing high praise at her dress and how beautiful she looked, but your husband only had eyes for you.

“Hey beautiful,” he said, coming to stand in front of you.

“Hey handsome,” you replied, “You need to get dressed.”

“On my way love, will you watch this one for me? Amanda has Christopher,” he told you as he carefully transferred Charlotte into your arms.

Amanda came highly recommended to you by your paediatrician, she was a nurse at the hospital you gave birth at who babysat small babies in her free time for some extra money. While it made you nervous to leave your precious babies home with someone else, you didn’t want to worry about them all night at the wedding and you knew that they wouldn’t be able to sleep with the noise of the music at the reception.

“Of course,” you replied immediately, smiling down at your daughter, “I hung your dress blues on the bathroom door,” you called out after him.

“Thanks love!” he shouted as he made it to the top of the stairs.

Once Jake was dressed and you were all ready to leave, not without triple checking Amanda had everyone’s numbers and knew exactly where everything was, you loaded into your Tahoe, Jake’s truck, and the rental SUV that Giovanni had gotten at the airport to drive to the church.

The drive from yours to the Immaculate Conception Church in San Diego took double what it should have. Traffic, despite the fact that it was nearing two in the afternoon on a Tuesday, seemed to have San Diego at a standstill, but when you finally made it to the church’s carpark, the only one seeming stress-free was Maria.

“It’s not like they can start without me,” she smiled, smoothing out her dress and readjusting her veil.

“How are you feeling?” Isabella asked, having fussed over Giovanni’s tie so much that she hadn’t heard her daughter speak.

Maria beamed, “Giddy. Mi sposo, mamma!” she said, adding the last bit in a whisper, as if she was telling her mother a secret. I’m getting married, mom! Isabella giggled, taking her daughter's hand in hers and kissing the knuckles.

Gio came up behind her, throwing his arm around her shoulders with the hint of a tear in his eyes, “Sì, lo sei, sorellina,” he sniffled, “E sai cosa ti rende?” he asked. Yes you are, little sister. And you know what that makes you?

“Tutti cresciuti?” Maria answered. All grown up?

“Non è più un nostro problema,” he replied, barking out a teary laugh, high fiving with Tony while Maria rolled her eyes. Not our problem anymore.

“Non essere cattivo con tua sorella il giorno del suo matrimonio” Isabella said, outraged at her eldest sons’ behaviour. Don't be mean to your sister on her wedding day.

“Mamma, si sta per sposare, non è sul letto di morte,” Gio replied, still masking his genuine emotionality with sarcasm and jokes. Mom, she’s getting married, she’s not on her deathbed.

“Mi prenderesti ancora in giro sul letto di morte,” Maria replied. You would still tease me on my deathbed. “Almeno Jacob ha la decenza di sembrare emotivo,” she grinned, pointing at Jake as he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his dress blues. At least Jacob has the decency to look emotional.

“Queste sono lacrime di tristezza per Bob,” Jake replied, soon devolving into full-on sobs. He grabbed Maria by the forearm and pulled her into a hug, “Ti amo, piccola seccatrice. Prenditi cura del mio amico,” he said against her hairline. I love you, you little nuisance. Take care of my friend.

“Everyone ready?” Father Dan asked, appearing out of his Toyota, slamming the door behind him as he climbed out, “Traffic’s a nightmare today,” he told you.

“Jacob, pull yourself together,” he sighed, sounding exasperated at the sight of a sobbing Jake. Although he sounded annoyed, you saw the sides of his mouth twitch upwards in a concealed smile. Father Dan caught your gaze and winked, “You’ll make her dress wet,” he added before turning to Maria, grabbing her delicate, manicured hands into his surprisingly calloused ones, “Maria, you look beautiful. Are you ready to become Mrs Floyd?” Daniel asked and she nodded, “Let’s get you married then.”

“Yes please,” she breathed

“Alright, Mr Seresin, you stay behind with Maria. The rest of you find your seats. I’ll get Bob and the photographer to come out for the first look” he said.

You nodded at Father Dan, putting your veil on and handing Jake a tissue before stepping into the church, curtseying at the altar and finding your seat. The Seresin side of the church was packed while Bob’s was largely empty. He’d decided not to invite his father or anyone from his paternal family, so the only people currently filling up his side were Beau, Lizzie and the kids, as well as friends from home and from the navy. To make things more equal, you and Jake bid goodbye to the Seresin clan and made your way to the Floyd pews, finding seats next to the Simpsons.

As soon as you sat down, Mass began, the sound of the Wedding March playing through the church’s organ as Bob walked down, cheeks glistening with tears, with his mother by his side. Minutes later, Maria walked down the aisle, beautiful and beaming, squeezing Giovanni’s arm reassuringly as he led her to Bob, his eyes red and bottom lip wobbling.

After a beautiful wedding mass, Father Dan pronounced the happy couple man and wife. Guests were ushered out of the church and given cones of white petals, ready for when Bob and Maria would step out. Everyone found their spots at each side of the church steps and waited.

The first few bars of ‘Die A Happy Man’ by Thomas Rhett started playing and the church doors opened again, revealing Bob and Maria, holding hands. You threw a handful of petals up in the air, signalling for everyone to do the same as the photographer stepped out to the middle to get a clear shot of the newlyweds, petals raining down like snowflakes.

----

Maria had told you three weeks ago about their ‘last minute’ wedding theme change. She had never made it a secret that she had always wanted a white Christmas themed wedding, and after her impromptu pregnancy announcement in your hospital room, Bob was even more determined to give her everything she wanted. But when she had told you about the theme, you hadn’t quite imagined it would look the way it did when you walked into the venue.

You were fairly certain that Santa’s workshop was less Christmassy than this.

At the back of the venue, a sixteen foot tall Norway spruce, decorated to perfection with red, gold and pearl coloured baubles and lit up with thousands of fairy lights, seemed to hold up the ceiling. Its foot was hidden by a pure white tree skirt, giving the impression that it had snowed inside and making the room feel magical.

Around the tree, tables had been arranged, dressed with white tablecloths, gold rimmed plates and a stunning centrepiece of candles, holly, cranberries and golden baubles. To the side of the tables, against the brick wall, Maria and Bob had arranged the bar and buffet, providing guests with an assortment of food, a hot chocolate and mulled wine section, candy apples and showing off the gorgeous wedding cake you had made, that Beau had volunteered to bring over to the wedding venue that very morning.

“Sorry,” the photographer said, tapping you on the shoulder as you looked on in awe, “The bride and groom want a few family photos in front of the tree.”

You made your way down, careful not to bump into any of the other, smaller christmas trees so as to not spray the floor with needles, choosing that path specifically to avoid talking to Mrs Wilkinson, your church’s infamous busybody. You could see her looking in your direction, already calculating a path to ambush you with the same question she always asked at church, and that you had begun to resent. Mrs Wilkingson, coming from an older generation, as was her excuse, seemed to have missed the memo that asking a young mother when she might be ready to ‘bounce back’ and ‘get her lovely, slender body back’, were entirely inappropriate questions to be asking.

The photographer positioned you to Bob’s side and Jake to Maria’s. He had stopped sobbing about halfway through the wedding ceremony, exactly two minutes before Giovanni Junior started sobbing, and, unlike Gio, his face had lost all puffiness and redness. You both beamed at the camera, feeling a little disappointed that you hadn’t taken the babies, as seeing the little suits and dresses Maria had forced the children to wear made your heart melt. You’d have to make do with Agostino and Luca, who both seemed happy enough to preen and prance in exchange of a steady stream of compliments.

“One more of the happy couple and then I will let you all sit down and eat!” The photographer said, pointing his camera at Bob and Maria as the rest of you stepped away from the tree. “Three,” he counted, “Two,” his hand moved to his lens, twisting it slightly, “Smile!” he ordered. The flash went off. The camera went down again, and Bob’s smile faltered, his eyes glued to something further in the room. You tried to spot what he had seen but, being smaller than most people present, you couldn’t see anything.

“I’ll just be a minute,” you heard him say to Maria, a tense smile on his face.

You watched him walk hastily towards the doors at the side of the ballroom. While everyone else dispersed and Maria was caught up with other guests, you noticed her eyes kept glancing towards the doors that Bob had disappeared through. A sinking feeling fell upon you when Beau followed Bob away from the party. Trying to ignore what you were feeling, you made your way to the bar, hoping that a glass of champagne might settle your mind.

It was a few minutes later, glass of champagne in hand, that all hell broke loose. Maria ran through the room, her voice calling out, “Jacob! Gio! Tony!”

All three men immediately rushed to her side as you and the rest of the guests stood shocked at her state. Her dress was ripped at the bodice, and her makeup was starting to run with the tears she had running down her cheeks. You quickly set your glass down and made your way to her as the three men took off running to the doors she had just come through.

Isabella and Nonna met you at Maria’s side where the three of you guided her out of the room and into the hallway. Isabella, though concerned for her daughter, paused at the doors as you and Nonna continued guiding Maria out of the room.

Isabella turned around to face the crowd of guests who were now gathering towards the door, “We will be back in a moment, please enjoy a few drinks!” with that, she closed the doors behind her and joined your small group at a bench in the lobby of the hotel.

“Cos'è successo tesoro?” she asked Maria as she crouched down in front of her and wiped a few tears from her face. What’s happened darling?

“Bob left, and when he didn’t come back…” Maria started, a sob breaking up her words, “Then I watched Beau go after him…” she paused again shaking her head, “There was a man in the hall, I came out of the door and he turned to swing at me, like he was going to hit me.”

Her words made your heart clench in your chest, “Did he hit you?” you asked.

“No,” Maria said quietly, “Bob stepped in front of me, he took the hit. It pushed him back, and he stepped on the hem,” she said, bringing her hands up to gesture at the rip in the seam between the bodice and skirt of her dress.

Before she could be interrupted again, she continued speaking, “Bob pushed me back inside, he told me to get the guys, I–”

At that moment, a fuming Jake came around the corner, behind him, Gio and Tony were flanking a man who had a bloody nose. Jake brought the group to a stop in the middle of the hall and his voice startled you as he directed the man to speak, “Apologise, now.”

If you had been in that man’s position, you would have done so immediately. Jake’s voice was deep and threatening, and the way that Gio and Tony were holding him, made you believe he would have bruises on his arms for days if not weeks to come.

The man stayed silent. Jake continued, “Fine, don’t apologise,” he turned to Maria, “We will be right back, just taking out the trash.”

She let out a small sniffle and your group watched as Jake led his brothers towards the rear of the hotel.

The lobby was quiet for a minute before Bob came running around the corner, his eyes widened at Maria’s state. You and Isabella took a step out of the way, watching as he came to kneel before her.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay? He didn’t touch you right?” Bob fussed, pulling Maria into a tight hug.

You, Isabella, and Nonna wandered back towards the reception hall, not wanting to intrude on their private moment. When Bob pulled back from the hug, one of his hands ghosting over Maria’s stomach, you turned to Isabella and Nonna, catching their attention.

“Do we have something to fix her dress with?” you asked quietly.

Nonna nodded, “I keep a kit in my purse dear. Bella, could you take me back inside?”

“Of course, I will reassure everyone that everything is alright and then we can fix her dress,” Isabella directed towards you before offering her arm to Nonna. You closed the door to the hall behind them once they were through and turned to find Bob holding Maria to him, his mouth was moving, but you couldn’t tell what was being said.

When Isabella reappeared with the sewing kit, the two of you made your way over to the couple. Giving Bob a tense smile, you caught Maria’s attention, “Let’s fix your dress, shall we?” you asked, gesturing for her to stand against the wall.

Bob took a step back from her and seemed to notice the exposed silk of the slip she was wearing beneath her gown. He took his place beside her, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder as you crouched down and carefully sewed the gap shut.

When you were done, you stood in front of them, “There, now let’s just…” you started, looking around the lobby. Finding a tissue box on a table a few feet away, you pulled a few from the top.

Gently, you wiped away the streaks of mascara from underneath Maria’s eyes. You felt her take a deep breath and saw the surprise on her face as you pulled the exact bottle she used earlier out from your clutch.

“What are sister-in-law’s for if not planning ahead?” you asked, a little laugh escaping you as you pulled the stick from the tube and reapplied a fresh coat of the black cream to her eyelashes.

“Thank you,” she whispered once you were done.

You gave her a smile, “Anytime,” you paused only when you heard footsteps approaching from down the hall. Turning, you saw Jake, Gio, Tony, and Beau approaching you from the back of the hotel.

You turned back to Maria and Bob, “Are you ready to go back in there?”

Maria took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Bob smiled, his hand clasping with hers, “I’m ready as long as I’m with you.”

As soon as you were rejoined by Jake, you led the way back through the doors. Isabella was standing next to the DJ and as Maria and Bob walked in at the back of your group, she prompted him to announce them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for the second time, can we please have a hand for Mr. and Mrs. Bob Floyd?” his voice boomed through the speakers.

Every guest was standing and cheering as they came into the room, and not two seconds later, everyone was tapping their champagne glasses so that the couple would share a kiss.

You smiled at the sight of their happiness, the moment interrupted by the bartender, “What can I getcha?” he asked.

You paused a moment before answering, “A glass of champagne please.”

Suddenly, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist beforeyour husband’s voice added, “And a whiskey, neat please.”

You turned to face Jake as the song for Bob and Maria’s first dance started to play through the room. He leaned down so that his mouth was next to your ear, “It was Bob’s dad, not too happy that he didn’t receive an invite to the wedding,” he whispered.

You nodded, letting him know that you heard what he said, “I don’t think he’ll be back,” Jake added before pulling back and beginning to sway with you to the song as you waited for your drinks.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, and by the end of the night, Jake had to carry you back to the truck because your feet hurt from dancing. You were even surprised when you came home to a quiet house, Amanda was seated on the couch, watching a show on Netflix.

“Hello you two!” she said quietly, turning the tv off, “How was the wedding?”

“Magical!” you said, the excitement from the night had not yet left you.

She gave you a smile, “That’s wonderful! Just so you know, I put them down just a little bit ago after they needed to eat again so I’d say you’re good for at least 3 hours.”

“Thank you so much Amanda,” Jake said, pulling the cash out of his wallet to pay her.

“No, thank you two. It’s not often I get to spend time with such adorable babies,” she replied with a laugh as she made her way to the door, “Well I will be on my way. Let me know when you need someone again?”

“Will do!” Jake confirmed as she made her way outside. You heard him shut and lock the door as you made your way upstairs. Jake’s heavy footsteps were not far behind you.

The two of you glanced into the nursery, content to find both your babes sleeping peacefully, before making your way into the bedroom.

“Besides Bob’s dad's wedding crashing, I had a wonderful night,” you said, spreading your arms out as you fell back on your mattress.

Jake let out a chuckle, which was much closer than you expected it to be. You opened your eyes just as his weight caused the mattress to dip. He was holding himself above you, his arms bracketing your head.

“I’m glad you had a good night,” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips.

The kiss went from gentle to passionate rather quickly, and suddenly, you and Jake were wrapped up in one another for the first time in the long weeks since your bundles of joy had been born.

---

Even though the weathermen of your local radio station had predicted ‘biblical downpours’ for the Sunday that followed Bob and Maria’s wedding, when you came out of the house with the babies dressed to the nines for their baptisms, the sun was out in full force, beating down so hard that you wished you had brought a hat and forgotten your coat.

The church was full when you arrived, as the normal congregation had been joined by your guests, all ready to attend your babies’ baptisms. You and Jake looked on with pride as Bob and Maria took their place as godparents, promising to help guide your children towards a faithful life and helping them understand what it meant to be a Christian, beaming at each other as they did so, Maria’s hand resting on her stomach for a second as she said the words.

After mass, your family joined you at your house, everyone enjoying the garden and sun room while the weather lasted, drinking champagne and eating the sandwiches and finger foods the caterers had brought over. Jake had turned on some music, mainly as a way to keep blanks in conversations less noticeable but partly because Peter Simpson had asked him and Bob for a word and didn’t want to be heard.

You had noticed them pulling up chairs at the back of the garden, talking quietly, slightly hunched over the firepit while Jake held Charlotte who seemed to desperately want to touch the pretty flames. You chuckled at the way her little hands reached down, trying to grab at the fire while Jake and Bob both battled to keep her hands to herself, their serious conversations occasionally interrupted with “Would you stop that,” and “You’ll hurt yourself,” and even an exasperated “You’ve got an arsonist on your hands, Jacob,” from Bob. Peter seemed to be enjoying these interruptions immensely, the grin he had plastered on his face never leaving.

You approached hesitantly, carrying three flutes of champagne in your hands, and a sleeping Christopher strapped to your chest. Peter noticed and nodded, silently giving you the go-ahead to approach. You handed each man a drink and perched yourself on Jake’s armrest.

“Discussing state secrets?” you asked.

“Just college plans,” Peter replied, “I wanted their advice.”

“On degree or specific school? Because you know Jake is a die hard UT fan, right?” you asked him.

“Neither, actually,” Peter hesitated, “And I heard UT was terrible if you want to do an English degree, anyway. Sorry Jake.”

“That’s just plain wrong,” Jake scoffed.

Peter raised an eyebrow at him before refuting his claim, “I mean their reviews online --”

“Okay so maybe the english department is bad, but you said you weren’t sure about doing that anyway. Their political science faculty is very good and --” Jake started.

“You did political sciences?” Bob interrupted.

“Yessir,” Jake agreed with a smirk, “Not as stupid as I look, am I?” he laughed.

“Okay so, you meet your first girlfriend at a D&D campaign, then you tell me you’re the designated IT technician and computer builder for the family, and now I learn you did a pol sci degree?” Bob asked with an incredulous smile.

“And I was on the debate team,” Jake winked.

“Jake Seresin--” Bob started but stopped. He turned to you, “Y/n, darling, I don’t know how to tell you this but… You married a nerd,” he said, grabbing both of your hands in his and adding the last bit in a whisper.

“I know I did,” you replied, “You want to know what I caught him watching, no, practically participating in last night?” you asked the boys while Jake tried to hide his head behind Charlotte in mock embarrassment, “I caught him answering all the questions on University Challenge, you know, that british college quiz show?”

“Please tell me he got some wrong,” Bob pleaded.

“None,” you answered.

Both boys gasped, pretending to be horrified before Bob spoke up, “Jacob, you need a new callsign. What should it be, Peter?”

“Err,” Peter panicked, “Sudoku?”

“Bob, you’re bleeding off on him,” Jake said, “Look at that! Absolutely terrible!”

“Shut up,” Bob retorted.

“Hey, language!” you told him, frowning at him while trying to hold in your laughter as he opened his mouth in protest and waved his arms about, mostly pointing at Charlotte, trying to silently convey that she was too young to understand anything anyway.

“How about LBJ?” Bob offered, “Jake ‘LBJ’ Seresin… Sounds decent! And it fits, he was a politician, an ex-debate teacher and he was from Texas.”

“Not bad, Bobby boy,” Jake nodded.

“So if you’re LBJ and he’s Bob, what’s my callsign?” Peter asked, grinning widely.

“You know callsigns aren’t supposed to be flattering, right?” you smiled, “They have to come from embarrassing stories or things like that… You know, like that time you lost some of your hair when you used Lizzie’s shaving cream as shampoo, --” you said, sending both Jake and Bob in hysterics.

“Peter ‘Nair’ Simpson,” Bob laughed.

“-- or that time we went swimming at a lake and you got chased by geese,” you continued.

“I still have that scar, by the way,” Peter added, “It bit my butt so hard Dad had to take me to get stitches!”

“It’s a shame the callsign Goose is already taken,” Jake laughed, wiping tears out of the corner of his eye.

“How’d you get your callsign then, Dove?” Peter asked. You rolled your eyes, ready to ignore the questions, but both Bob and Jake turned towards you.

“Yes, baby, how did you get your callsign?” Jake insisted.

“I slipped in the showers at the academy after dropping my bar of Dove branded soap. I broke my wrist trying to catch myself,” you replied. The boys tried to keep their laughter in, aware that they shouldn’t find your injury amusing, but the image of it soon had them cackling.

You huffed out a sigh before turning on Jake, “Alright then Hangman, how did you get yours?”

“I leave people out to dry, honey,” Jake shrugged, “Just so detached, that’s how I am, you know,” he added, concealing a smile.

You swatted his arm, “Oh come on!”

“I played a prank on some kid on our like, second week at the academy. We duck taped him to a wall at a pool party…” Jake started, trailing off with a smirk on his face.

“Hey, I thought they were supposed to be embarrassing stories!” Peter exclaimed, looking disappointed.

“They are, Jake’s a liar,” Bob retorted, a sly smile on his face, “I heard of that prank, and weirdly enough, I remember the name of the duck tape kid… Something like J--” Bob started, Jake’s hand quickly coming to cover his mouth and muffle his words.

“Oh my God, you got duck taped to a wall?!” Peter exclaimed, “Why?!”

“I don’t remember,” Jake groaned, “I fell asleep on a deck chair, three seconds later and I’m duck taped to a wall, three feet up in the air. I don’t even know how they did it… But I’ll tell you what,” he said, pointing a finger at Peter, “Removing the duck tape was the single most painful experience in my life. I was shirtless, it was very much like that scene in The Forty Year Old Virgin.”

“Fairly certain that’s the reason I can’t grow much chest hair,” he added in a grumble which made everyone around the firepit laugh, even Christopher and Charlotte who joined in, looking slightly more alarmed than amused.

“So, how did dad get his callsign?” Peter asked.

“Hey dad!” Bob shouted, catching Beau’s attention, waving him closer, “Pee-nut wants to know how you got your callsign,” he explained.

“Nope,” Cyclone said, turning on his heels.

“Oh come on, dad! You’re no fun. We’ve all shared,” you said, egging him on, “It’s your turn now.”

“If anyone -- especially Maverick -- hears anything about it, and I mean anything, I will --” Beau hesitated, trying to come up with something, “ground you two for life,” he said, pointing at Bob and Jake, whose smiles only grew, “And you, young man, I will show any and all future girlfriends the special photo album I have made of ALL the embarrassing pictures I took of you as a child. And might I remind you that until you hit twenty one, you still count as a child, so those pictures of you in Y/n’s wedding dress? She’ll see those too…”

Peter had tried on your wedding dress one day when you had taken Lizzie to one of your bridal appointments. He had finished school early, and bored out of his mind, he had decided to join you. You had been standing on heeled shoes for the entire day, blisters had formed, making standing any longer ever so painful. Peter had seen your struggle, and seeing as he was about the right height anyway, he had put on the dress and played model while the bridal assistants adjusted the size of the skirt. You didn’t quite remember when or where the blonde wig had been found, but when Beau went to pick all three of you up, he had found his son dressed to the nines as a beautiful bride. Between fits of hysterical laughing, he had managed to take a picture.

“Pinky promise,” Peter swore, smiling from ear to ear.

“Fine,” Cyclone said, “You know the Cyclone roller coaster in Coney Island?” he asked, pausing until everyone had nodded, “I made the mistake of going to an all-you-can-eat-buffet beforehand… I’ll leave it at that…”

“Oh!” Peter exclaimed, “You barfed?!”

“Scream louder, would you?” Beau asked sarcastically.

“You know, I don’t know if I can keep quiet about this…” you said, “I mean it’s a hilarious story, and you didn’t really threaten me with anything so I guess I’m -- MAVERICK” you called, Beau lunged forward, covering your mouth with his hand, careful not to hit Christopher in the process.

“Shit stirrer,” he whispered. With his hand still keeping you from talking, Beau turned to the boys, “What got started on callsigns anyway?”

“I’m thinking of joining the navy,” Peter said, “I’m not sure what I want to do in college for sure, but I want to apply for UC San Diego. Hopefully I get in. Otherwise maybe Cal State, or worse come to worse, I can apply for John Paul the Great Catholic University, if I decide to do science.”

“That’s --” Beau said, “That’s great, Pete…How come this is the first I’m hearing about it?” he added, letting go of you, wiping his hand on his trouser leg.

“I just wanted to check with Jake and Bob, see if they think it’s a good idea, considering I’ve applied to replace Bob as youth minister…”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, touching Bob’s shoulder lightly.

He smiled, “No, I’m staying. I’m just taking over Jake’s duties. I’m keeping the teens though, I don’t really know what to do with little kids,...”

“Hey, it’s good practice,” Beau said.

The blood drained from Bob’s face as he looked at you, a horrified expression on his face; You tried to stay neutral so as to not attract too much attention and make Beau question what other meaning his words could have, “Sorry?” Bob asked.

“Didn’t Y/n say you were on babysitting duty for like, a year?” he asked.

“Right! Yes! I’m sorry, I completely forgot,” Bob chuckled nervously.

“I won’t let you,” Beau winked, “Because any evening where you are babysitting is an evening I am not babysitting,” he chuckled, “Don’t get me wrong, I love my grandkids -- Gosh, I feel old -- I love my grandkids, but I forgot how fragiles babies are, and I don’t think I have it in me anymore,” he said, shaking his head, “I’ll gladly take over when they’re older though.”

“Like how old?” Bob asked, “Old enough to drive?!”

“Yeah,” Beau replied, “That sounds good. Good luck till then,” he added, clapping Bob on the back and leaving to find Lizzie again.

Peter watched him walk off, “You know, he’s usually more emotional when I talk about college…” he said.

“I saw a tear,” Bob said, “Worry not, Peter Pan, worry not. He’s still an old sap.”

“Hey, you didn’t mind him being a sap when he told Captain Floyd to never touch, look or breathe near his son again if he wanted to stay alive…” Jake grinned.

“I never said I minded it,” Bob beamed, leaning back against his chair, “I like it, actually,” he added, a deep crimson blush covering his cheeks.

----

Rooster walked through the sunroom of the house, two beers in his hands, looking for Annie. They had barely been able to catch a moment together since she had landed three days ago, largely because Admiral Simpson watched their interactions like a hawk, and partially since Annie felt guilty about missing the wedding that she had tried to spend as much time with the newlyweds to make up for it.

She had been looking forward to the wedding since the day Bob proposed, Rooster knew, but an impromptu snow storm grounded the planes for the foreseeable future. Going by train would have just as much time but the Admiral had vetoed the choice as soon as he heard the words ‘greyhound bus’ which Rooster privately agreed with. In the end, Annie and Audrey had made the drive in Audrey’s uncomfortable, baby blue Cruise and arrived, exhausted and aching after thirty-one hours of highways.

He found her in the kitchen, puttering about the cupboards to plate up some brownies and cupcakes, wearing a lovely white cotton dress that reached her knees. She looked wonderful, she always did, but seeing her like this made Rooster feel a little funny. Somehow, it felt a little too domestic.

“Got you a present,” he said as soon as she spotted him, raising the hand that held the beers up in the air so she could see it.

“Just what I needed, thanks Brad,” she sighed, brushing a lonely strand of her short blonde bob away from her face, “I swear I emptied a whole can of hairspray on it this morning and it’s still loose,” she added, the hair falling in front of her face again, “I guess this is going to be it, then.”

“You look nice,” Rooster replied, brushing the strand away himself. By miracle, it stayed put. Annie beamed at him, taking the beer from his hand and taking a large swig.

“Could you help me?” she asked, looking up at him from the task of cutting brownies into perfect squares.

Bradley smiled, placing the beers down on the counter, he came up behind her, pulling her back to his front in a hug, “Of course, what do you need?”

“Could you reach the platter for the cupcakes?” she directed, using the knife in her hand to gesture to the cabinet to her right, “It’s too high up for me to reach.”

Brad quickly removed his hands from her hips, holding them up at his sides, “Yes ma’am!” he said, imitating how he would respond to his CO.

Annie let out a peal of laughter as she cut the brownies. Once Bradley had brought down the platter, he began filling it with cupcakes. The silence they had been standing in was starting to turn awkward and he wasn’t sure what to do other than break it.

Before he could, Annie let out a huff before speaking, “You know my friend, Chloe?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Bradley said, his attention still focused on the cupcakes, “What about her?”

“Well you remember I told you about her boyfriend, the one who works in Texas?” she continued, now placing the brownies on a plate.

“Yes, I remember,” Brad replied, his brow raising at where this conversation could be going.

“She called me the other day, just to chat,” Annie continued, “Said she was moving to Texas. That she needed to get out of Indiana for once in her life, be by the man she loves, all that…”

Bradley almost dropped a cupcake. He didn’t quite know what to say to that. Turning around slowly, he was met with Annie’s back, her hands were clenched tightly on the edge of the counter, and every muscle in her body looked stiff, like she was waiting for something.

“That sounds…nice,” he said, his brain slow to find the right words to her story.

“It does, doesn’t it?” she asked, finally spinning to face him, her eyes bright with hope.

Bradley’s heart dropped, he couldn’t give Annie the life she wanted. Not with the risks his job provided. Suddenly, an image of his mother and her grief flashed across his mind. There were two days a year he saw Carole Bradshaw cry, he wasn’t sure he could, in good conscience, do that to Annie.

Realising that what she asked wasn’t rhetorical, Bradley felt his mouth open, then close, then open again, the words he spoke sounded strangled, even to him, “Yeah, I’m happy for them.”

Not daring to watch the hope leave her eyes, he turned back around, his focus now back on the cupcakes she had directed him towards earlier. He heard a sharp inhale behind him before Annie’s quiet voice caused him to stiffen, “Is there something wrong with me?” she asked.

Bradley didn’t need to turn around to see her lip quivering, he could hear it in her voice. He turned around anyway, his heart clenching when he saw her. There were tears welled up in her eyes and her chin was dimpled, like she was trying to hold back her tears.

“No, baby, there’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, trying to diffuse the situation, “Why would you even think that?”

“Well,” she said, her voice cracking on the word, “You say you love me, but you are content to be over two thousand miles away from me, so there must be something wrong with me.”

Bradley took a step towards her, but Annie immediately stepped back, the only thing keeping her from retreating further was the counter that was now dug into her lower back, “No,” he said again, his voice firm, “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

She let out a humourless laugh, “I suppose there is someone else then? Someone skinnier? Prettier? More bubbly?”

Before Bradley had been confused, but now he was angry, “There is no one else. Why would you even think that?”

“It’s not a hard conclusion to come to, Rooster,” she said, her voice harder than before, her tears still threatening to swallow her up.

“Honey, I’m yours,” he said, his voice raising slightly, “You have had me wrapped around your finger since the day we met, there isn’t anyone else, there never could be!”

“Then why? Why do you string me along with promises of the future? Why do you always choose to leave them empty?” she asked, her own voice raising to match his level.

“Because I can’t do this now, it’s not the right time,” he exclaimed, turning away from her and running his hands over his face, “It's not the right time,” he repeated.

“Not the right time for what? You to finally commit to something other than your truck?” she asked, pointing the knife she still held at his back.

Bradley turned around, pointing a finger at her, “It’s more than that, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Why don’t you try me then?” she asked, her eyes flaring with the fiery passion he knew and loved, it hurt to see it turned against him.

“I had to see my mother, for years, mourn the loss of my father. Every birthday, every holiday, every anniversary. She loved him so much, she never even dared to look at another man, I can’t-” he exclaimed, startled when her voice cut through his.

“Don’t you stand there and talk to me about how I wouldn’t understand. My father died in a crash too, and not only did I have to watch my mother mourn, I had to watch her abandon our family,” Annie had tears running down her cheeks, and her voice was thick with emotion, “Abandon me, every day since he died. At least you had your mother’s love, and Maverick, that man loves you like only a father could. Beau came around when he was able and I love him to bits, but he was focused on Y/n, making sure my mother’s grief didn’t kill her.”

Bradley felt a heaving breath leave him. He opened and closed his mouth, feeling like a gaping fish, unable to draw a breath. Annie’s own childhood wasn’t much different from his, if anything, it was worse. He didn’t know what to say, so he did what he knew best, he ran.

As he made to slam the front door behind him, he heard a gut wrenching sob. Bradley was wracked with guilt as he threw himself in the Bronco and shifted it into first, tearing off the side of the street and out of the neighbourhood.

----

Rooster sat on the pew and laced his fingers together on his knees, wondering if he was even doing this correctly. He remembered pieces of the Our Father but he was fairly sure they were all in the wrong order and some of the bits he heard Bob pray before were different from what his father had once prayed with him, but he figured the Lord probably wouldn't mind too much.

"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven," Rooster muttered, confident about the first few lines.

"Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. Give us today our daily bread -- No, no. Is this right? Does it even matter?" He asked. Silence reigned in the church, his whispers magnified as they echoes through the empty building, "Fuck, do You even care? I've shat on You for thirty years now, if you care about how I say the Our Father, if this is the line you draw, then you have your priorities wrong, man -- God. Sorry," he stuttered out.

"Err, I don't -- how does this work? Do I just talk?" He asked, "Because I'll be honest this feels fucking weird. I'm just --"

"Perhaps you would like some help?" Someone asked, snapping him out of his reverie. He’d been so concentrated on staring at the ceiling, that he hadn’t noticed that the church was no longer empty. The voice belonged to a small, chubby woman with a straight black bob, and a kindly smile. She walked up to him with long, calm strides, her feet hitting the bottom of her black dress with every step.

"I -- err -- I'm not sure what I'm doing," Bradley admitted.

"Is this your first time?" She asked, a thick accent coming through her voice. It sounded unmistakably British.

"First time in thirty years, I think," he replied.

"Out of practice then," she said with a smile,

"I don't know if I believe, to be honest," Rooster replied, his eyes finding a place on his shoes.

"Well, dear, I think you do. I don’t usually find non-believers praying in my church,” she replied.

Rooster paused for a second, “Fair…”

“My name is Dawn,” she said, sticking her hand out for him to shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Bradley,” he said.

“Well, Bradley, if you need any help. You can find me in the vicarage,” she said, turning on her heels, “I’ll have you know I make a very good cup of tea. And I’m a very good listener,” she added.

Bradley smiled, endeared by the forwardness of the priest and he stood, following right behind her.

“So,” she said, once she had led him out of the church and into the vicarage, a tiny house right off the side of the church. What it lacked in size it made up for in personal effects. The entire house was crammed full. From floorboard to ceiling, Rooster could see books, knicknacks, porcelain dishes and picture frames. Dawn made her way through everything to reach the only tidy room in the house.

The kitchen was impeccable, the counters clean and tidy, and when she searched through cupboards for two cups, Rooster could see that the cupboards were similarly organised. All in all, the kitchen was fairly minimalist. Rooster liked where her priorities lay. She flicked the kettle on and pulled a large aluminium box from the top of the fridge.

“What’s bothering you then, love?” she asked, shaking the box. It rattled with something heavy. Dawn pried the top open. She looked inside, seeming pleased with the contents and overturned it onto a plate, sending shortbread cascading onto the table, “Oops, I am so clumsy sometimes,” she laughed, “My mum used to say I’d fare better in life if I slowed down a bit, I reckon she’s right but life would be a whole lot less fun, wouldn’t it?”

Bradley just nodded, a small chuckle escaping him.

“What do you do in life, Bradley? How about we start with that?” she said.

“I’m a naval aviator,” he replied.

“Oh!” she giggled, “You agree with my opinion on slowing down then!”

Bradley smiled. There was something about Dawn he liked, she seemed motherly and welcoming and he felt like he could tell her anything.

“I’m having trouble with something,” he said.

“I’m listening,” she replied, getting up as the kettle clicked, “But before you start, should we have tea in the Noah’s ark teapot, or the Holy Bible teapot?” she asked, holding up the two choices, “We’re having Earl grey, if it helps?” she adds.

“Holy Bible, I think,” Rooster replied, having never been so confused in his life. He watched her pour the water into it and carry it gingerly over to the table, placing it down in front of him. In all fairness, it was a very nice teapot. It depicted two pages out of an ancient illustrated Bible, separated in the middle by a red bookmark. Acting as the lid was a tiny porcelain black cat, peacefully snoozing.

“You were saying?” Dawn asked, now giving him his full attention, her hands crossed in front of her.

“I’m having trouble with something,” he tried again. He tried to figure out how to explain it to her, but the right words wouldn’t come out. Starting from the beginning would take ages and he didn’t want to bother her with the details.

“Yes. I can see that,” she replied.

“It’s hard to explain,” he said, trying to defend himself.

“Yes, so is the word of Jesus Christ and I do it every week, so get on with it boy!” she said, her words were harsh but she had spoken in such a voice that it sounded encouraging.

“I lost my dad when I was four. He was a naval aviator like me, only he was a weapons systems’ officer -- which means he sat at the back -- anyway, there was a training exercise and he died on the spot,” Rooster said. While the words weren’t exactly the ones he had wanted to use, now that he had started talking he couldn’t stop and soon enough, he had explained everything from his father’s death, to his mother’s, to Maverick and to the dagger squad. The only thing he hadn’t explained was Annie, and he knew Dawn could feel it.

“I’m sorry you have to live with that, I can tell it weighs heavy on you. That’s not why you’re here, though, is it?” she asked.

Rooster squirmed under her gaze. He felt a little like a child at the principal’s office, regardless of how nice Dawn actually was, “I’m having trouble with my girl. She’s catholic, I’m…whatever I am,” he said

“Is she serious about it?” Dawn asked, Rooster raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I think people take God too seriously sometimes.”

“Now I don’t mean that you shouldn’t take God seriously, I mean, and this is coming from a vicar, believe me, I can take God seriously,” she laughed, “I just mean that I think the Lord likes a laugh,” she explained, pronouncing ‘laugh’ like ‘laff’, “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have invented jokes and he wouldn’t have bestowed english sitcoms upon this green earth. No, what I mean is you know, is she --,” Dawn mimed a frown, “-- about it?”

“No,” Rooster grinned, slowly getting used to Dawn’s strange personality, “She’s fun.”

“Oh, dearie, if fun’s the only thing you have to describe her then I can believe you’re having issues with your girl,” she said with a frown.

“I’m just answering your question!” Rooster defended himself, “Annie’s kind, she’s caring, she’s bubbly, she’s funny, she’s smart, she’s --”

“Catholic?” Dawn volunteered, seeing him struggle.

Rooster nodded, “It feels like she wants me to be that too,” he said, “We had an argument and she unloaded on me. I like her, I really like her, but I don’t know if I can be the kind of guy she wants me to be.”

“Her sister’s married a friend, they have this great life together and it feels like Annie wants the same. Honestly I wish I could give it to her, but I can’t. I don’t believe, I don’t want to do the cute church dates and I don’t want to centre my life around someone I’m not sure I believe in,” Bradley said, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Then don’t,” Dawn said, “Well, if only they were all this easy…”

“Wait, what?” Rooster asked, feeling ever so confused, “Aren’t you supposed to try and convince me? To, whatsitcalled, ‘evangelise’ me?”

“Do you want me to?” she asked, “Despite what people think, I am actually quite busy, and I’d rather not waste my time trying to convince someone who will not be convinced. Don’t get me wrong, I love to ‘evangelise’, as you say, but it’s almost time for my kids to come home from school, and I have to get dinner started.”

“I’m so confused,” Rooster admitted.

Dawn pursed her lips, “Look Bradley, obviously this girl means a lot to you, but if she wants to change who you are then she’s not right for you. Even if she thinks she’s doing the right thing by asking you to bring the Lord into your life. The Lord wants believers, yes, but He does not want people to pretend to believe, Bradley. And I doubt she wants to wake up one day after fifty years of marriage and three kids to find that you only ever pretended to believe. I’m sure she’s nice, and I’m sure she thinks you need to have a faith, but as much as I would like to see you in my church every Sunday, pretending to love the Lord is as much of a betrayal to the Lord as it would be to the friends and family you’d make in church.”

“She didn’t --” Bradley started.

“What did she say?”

“She talked about her best friend. How she is moving to Texas, to be with her boyfriend,” Bradley started, and he found that he couldn’t stop, the words just kept coming, “I didn’t know what to say so I said that was good for them. Then she asked if there was something wrong with her, or if I was seeing someone else. When I tried to tell her why…why I can’t give her what she wants, she reminded me that we aren’t that different. We both grew up in broken homes and…I don’t know…that I’m not the only one who’s ever lost someone.”

“It doesn’t sound like she wants you to be faithful, it sounds like she wants commitment,” Dawn smiled, “It sounds like you put the Lord in there. It’s been on your mind a lot, hasn’t it?”

“I guess,” Rooster agreed, “I spoke to a friend of mine months ago. He really let me hear it and I guess I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

“About believing?”

“No, about how the Lord didn’t make mistakes but people did, and that if my dad died it was because of a human mistake. He said I shouldn’t be looking to make the Lord pay for my loss, said I should work through it some other way,” he explained, “He made a point, I guess. He asked if my dad was a Christian, and if he’d be blaming God if he was in my spot…”

Dawn paused for a moment, considering what he said, before asking, “Would he?”

“Don’t know, it’s not like I can ask, is it?” Bradley asked, his hands coming out to the sides in frustration.

“Well, why not?” Dawn shrugged.

“Right,” Rooster scoffed, “Let me just bust out my ouija board,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Hey Dad, hope heaven’s good if you’re there, are you pissed at the Almighty for killing you and making your kid an orphan?” he added, pretending to pick up a phone and placing it next to his ear.

Dawn shrugged, “Well, what’s the worst that can happen? I mean you said it yourself, you’re not sure you believe in all of that, so worst case scenario, you don’t get an answer.”

Bradley remained silent a moment longer before lamely adding, “I mean, I guess…”

“Best case scenario…” she trailed off.

“It doesn’t solve my problem though,” he said.

“Bradley, I can do a lot of things, but I cannot help your allergy to commitment,” she smiled.

“I’m not --” Bradley started “I’m not allergic! It’s just that, in my line of work --”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there. First off, you like her, she likes you, you’re both adults so work it out. Second off, you can break it off with her if you’re so keen on not committing for the sake of your job, but it looks like she doesn’t mind the risks,” Dawn said in a no nonsense tone.

“It’s not that she doesn’t mind, it’s that I can’t--” Bradley started, trying to defend his position.

Dawn interrupted him, her voice raised only slightly, “This isn’t just your choice Bradley! Let her have a say in what you do! If she accepts your reasons, your fears, and you still like her, then time to man up and commit, boy!”

“And if she doesn’t?” he asked, his heart sinking at the thought.

“Oh honey,” Dawn said, suddenly looking sad, “You’re not scared of commitment, you’re scared of abandonment. Nothing I can do about that, I’m afraid. I often think that’s the saddest part of humanity. We live, we love and then we die, that’s what happens and there’s nothing we can do to stop it, no matter how much we try, even pushing people away won’t work. We’re social animals, Bradley, we need contact and attachment,” she continued, placing one hand on top of Rooster’s, “And we need it from people, otherwise we get sad and miserable and I’d really rather you didn’t become the kind of person who cries when their roomba breaks,” Dawn winked, eliciting a chuckle from the man in front of her.

“I guess you’re right. I can’t keep closing the door on people who want in on my life,” he sighed. A key turned in a lock and the front door flew open. The sounds of rowdy kids and an exhausted man approached the kitchen, shooting a look at the doorway, Dawn removed her hand from Bradley’s and leaned back in her chair.

“Yes. Now go home, pray to your dad and come back to tell me about the results,” she said, waving her hands to shoo him out of the house. Rooster stood up and thanked her for the tea before making his way back to the front door, crossing two ginger haired girls and a small man with an impressive moustache.

Once the cool wind hit his face, Bradley felt like he woke up from a perplexing dream, but somehow he had come out knowing exactly what he needed to do. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw he had gotten a text.

Annie: Going back to Indiana. Have fun in San Diego.

Rooster’s heart dropped in his chest. He knew he’d hurt her, but he didn’t think it would make her leave early. Annie had been telling him how excited she was to see everyone and finally meet her niece and nephew for weeks now, she’d even joked about permanently moving to California with Audrey a few times. The thought that he had done enough damage to make her leave early truly broke his heart. He pressed on her name. It rang five times before she picked up.

“We need to talk. Can I come see you? We can have coffee,” Bradley asked as soon as she picked up, checking his watch to see if he had enough time.

“Bradley, I’m at the airport. I’m waiting for my flight home,” she replied. Behind her, he heard a computerised voice announce boarding times and gate numbers for another flight.

“I know, I can make it in time for boarding if I start now, can I meet you?” he insisted, getting in the Bronco and prepping the key in case she said yes. He wasn’t proud of how he had behaved with her and she had every right to refuse to see him, but he really hoped he hadn’t messed this up. Annie was a wonderful girl, and he truly liked her. He didn’t want her to break up with him because he couldn’t commit, something he had often reproached Jake, but now, Bradley wondered if he hadn’t been projecting.

“I’m sure we can talk over the phone,” she snapped.

Rooster turned the key, feeling a little victorious. Although it hadn’t been a ‘yes’, the fact that she hadn’t outright refused him meant there was still a chance for him to make things right.

“I thought you wanted commitment?” he asked.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you at Starbucks, don’t make me late,” Annie replied, trying to sound like she was still mad at him but Rooster could hear a hint of excitement in her voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he assured her, hanging up the call with a smile as he backed out of the church parking lot and down the street, letting gravel fly underneath the wheels of his truck.

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #original fic #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman top gun

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