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httpjungkookcom · 5 months

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CYBER BOY | JJK (m)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 12K, not bad!

Genre | Android! Jungkook x Grad Student! Reader, Fluff, Smut

Summary | Jimin, as much as you love him, is a major pain in your ass. After dragging you to his store against your will (literally) you end up with; the newly manufactured, eerily human Jungkook android model. He's so human, you begin to have questions.

Index | A lot of fluff, reader is terrified, Jungkook is a sweetheart, Jungkook is absolutely whipped, Jungkook is good at anything and everything you could think of, including pleasing you ;), soft smut, Jungkook just wants you to feel good

A/N | You don't really need to know the lore of Detroit Become Human, it's just briefly mentioned in the story. Cyber Life is basically a manufacturer of robots/androids, that's really all the background you need for the story. Enjoy! <3

Jimin’s very busy today talking your ear off. Well, more than normal you should say. Two weeks ago he scored this huge paid internship with CyberLife, a company that currently holds a monopoly over all other tech companies with its superior android manufacturing, innovative technology, and competitive prices that “Are to sure surpass your expectations.” He was ecstatic, going on about how maybe they’ll gift him an android as an intern present (spoiler alert, they did not.) Regardless, they pay him very well for an internship and he loves their technology so he’s still happy. Now, it’s something about a new android he’s droning on about.

“No, I don’t think you understand Y/n.” Jimin clarifies, walking alongside you on the campus pathway. “One in the entire world, only one is being made.”

“I understand plenty, Jim.” You genuinely laugh, side-eyeing him as he questions your intelligence. “I think I understood the first time you said there’s only one, and the second time, and the third, and now the hundredth.”

“And you don’t even want to see him?! I don’t understand!!” Jimin almost yells, wide eyes as he turns to you to emphasize his point.

Ever since Jimin scored the internship, you constantly refuse to ever step foot in the company. Mostly because you know Jimin would try to market to you, and he’s got a reputation for never getting told no. That’s the excuse you always gave, telling him off every time he’d talk about the “low low price of 4,999 dollars!” Secondly, the androids freak you out a bit. They’re hyper-realistic, all the way down to every single man-made eyelash on their face. You’re sure if you look close enough, you could probably see fake pores.

However, you don’t hate artificial intelligence at all, nor are you a part of the momentum-gaining group of “androids are stealing our jobs, and ruining society!” You suppose for you, it’s just how realistic they look, act, speak, and walk. Everything about them is human-like. Maybe if they had a Siri-sounding voice, or walked stiff, maybe you’d get behind the idea of owning one.

“You would try and get me to buy it, why are you saying him? You never do that Jimin?” You ask, laughing softly. “What, you got a crush on him?” You raise your brows, elbowing him with your hands remaining in your pockets, cold air waiting for the opportunity to bite at your skin.

Jimin scoffs in defense, pretending you offended him as he shoves you away. “We were told to market it as him because he’s so realistic most people apparently won’t know the difference.”

“…And you want me to buy that thing!?! An android that is so human you can’t even tell?!” You ask, feet stopping in their tracks. “Jimin, you’re out of your mind.” You roll your eyes, beginning to turn around, and instead, make your way to your apartment complex.

“Nooo, at least walk me to the store like always. This isn’t fair!” Jimin complains like a child, stomping his feet softly in the thin layer of snow that’s beginning to form on the sidewalk. “I just wanted to tell you because I think it’s interesting, I promise I won’t market him to you.”

“You’re a liar.” You turn back, unable to fight back the smile as you walk up to him. “Fine, let’s get going before it starts snowing harder. I’d hate for you to be covered in it and you ruin all your bots with the liquid.” Sticking out your tongue, Jimin mimics you as he does it back.

“It wouldn’t ruin them, c'mon Y/n. They’re waterproof.”

“Jimin.”

“Right, sorry sorry.”

Jimin stops talking about androids for the rest of the walk, instead beginning his daily oversharing session, as he vents about this mystery boy “Taehyung” he’s been seeing. Jimin claims he’s always on campus, everywhere, but you have yet to see him. Secretly, you’re starting to believe Jimin is making parts of him up. He wraps up the rant as you approach the door, “Anyways, he seems genuinely sweet. I think I’ll give it a chance.”

“Yeah, I also think he seems nice. Maybe it’ll be worth it.” You shrug, beginning to pull your arm away from Jimin’s where they’re interlinked.

“Just like…you should give our androids a chance.” You're dragged into the store before you can even get another word in, Jimin locking down extra hard on your arm in case you fight it. As the doors close behind the both of you, you finally give in. “That big box over there, that’s our new one-of-a-kind boy.” Jimin beams, walking you over to it. There’s only the logo of cyber life on the front, no model codes, details, or specifications anywhere to be seen.

“So, what’s he look like?” You ask, finally able to pry your arm away from Jimin’s chokehold.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know??”

“Exactly what I mean, I don’t know.” Jimin spits jokingly, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “CyberLife is keeping all the details under wraps, I suppose whoever gets him is the first to find out. Personally, I think it’s to see if people recognize it as an android if the owner takes him out into public.” The information feels like whiplash, as does the mixing of it, him, and owner.

“That is the freakiest thing I’ve ever heard.” You laugh. “So, how much is he going for?” You shrug as Jimin smirks at you, eventually punching his arm.

“What, you want him?” He earns himself another punch. “He’s not.”

“Jimin, what the fuck? Is this an empty box???” You're now beginning to think Jimin is fucking with you. Maybe a prank to see how gullible you are to the information he tells you, never really questioning his nerdy rants. “No characteristics, no price, let me guess, no name next huh?”

“Ding ding ding.” Jimin chuckles. “The model doesn’t have a name. He introduces himself to his owner one-on-one.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait wait wait, don’t you want to know how you can get him if he’s not for sale?” He coaxes you back to the box laughing the entire time as he speaks. Once again grabbing you so you don’t have a chance to run away, you’re left trapped. If the androids surrounding you in the store are already this realistic, you’re a bit afraid to see what’s in the box honestly. “Aren’t you at least a bit curious, an android not up for sale hm?”

“With the information you just gave me, it’s an empty box up for sale,” You complain, ready to go home and cozy up on the couch with this weather. It’s cold, wet, and you’re already slipping into your winter break laziness.

“It's a raffle.”

“Oh great.”

“I’ll enter you into it.” Jimin beams, running over to a computer behind the cashier counter. You groan loudly, beginning to follow him to stop his antics. “Uhm ma’am, employees only beyond this point.” Jimin changes his tone to his customer service voice, holding a hand in front of your face. “I’ll be with you in one moment.”

“Jimin, this isn’t funny. I’m going to kick your ass,” You complain, glancing over your shoulder to the large box behind you as if he’d pop out at any moment. “I don’t even want the opportunity to own him, people would probably kill others over him.”

“One moment, please ma’am,” He speaks, breaking up into laughter throughout his sentence. You’re helpless as you stand at the counter, watching in disbelief as he types in all of your information faster than the speed of light.

“I wish we never sat next to each other in Introduction to Computer Science.” You laugh, watching him click submit before making his way back to where you stand by the box.

“Raffle results come out tomorrow. That’s why I had to drag you here.” Jimin beams, “If you don’t want him, you can always give him to me.”

Faking a gag, you begin your way out of the store. “I'm going home, Jimin. I'm gonna be spending my winter break alone, android-less, binge-watching movies, so feel free to stop by.” You smile, waving to him from the door. Jimin inserts some snarky remark that you don’t really catch, rolling your eyes at him through the window regardless.

Doing exactly as you promised yourself, you all but melt into the soft bed you’ve been in a long-distance relationship with the entire semester. Now, you’re able to catch up with spring classes being an entire month away. You spend the rest of your afternoon double-checking that all of your assignments are in before allowing yourself to sleep. The next day, you begin your marathons, finally catching up on all the shows you said you’d watch. With a content sigh, you begin your second binge-watching marathon of the break. It’s cut short just one episode in, a small knock catching your attention. Following it, it’s your front door.

“Hi, Jimin, do you wanna-“ It’s not Jimin standing on the other side of the door, not at all. There are two tall men, with a big box placed in the middle of either one of them. “Oh, sorry. I was expecting someone else. How can I help you guys?”

“Is this the residence of Y/n L/n?” One asks, making your throat run dry as you glance at the box behind them. “If you could just sign off on your delivery, free of charge provided by the company.” Glancing down at the paper presented, CyberLife. Shaky hands sign a sloppy signature, the movers quickly move in and place the box in the middle of the walkway before rushing off. Closing the door behind you, you’re at a loss.

Wouldn’t they call you if you won? Or an email? Or mail? Who in their right mind just comes and delivers such an expensive and precious item without some sort of confirmation beforehand??? Your normally cozy and comfortable apartment suddenly feels too small with the box in it, another human-like thing occupying the space.

“Jimin?!” This has to be a prank, Jimin has to be laughing his ass off in this stupid box. With caution, you press an ear against the metal and try to hear laughing, snorting, breathing, anything. The box is white and blue, only confirming the high possibility of an android being inside. “Jimin, if you're in this box, I’m going to kill you for real this time.” You give a fair warning, pressing and pulling hard on the side handle. It opens smoothly, the door not even creaking once as you pull it open.

You jump hard as you peek into it, not Jimin. Definitely not Jimin. Hiding behind the door, you peek once more into the inside to take in the sight. He’s…pretty? Somehow his android skin is activated without even being turned on yet, hair styled with his bangs pushed back from his forehead. His nose is slightly large, but it fits his face perfectly. There’s a small mole underneath his lower lip that you think is an interesting addition to an android model.

With a hard beating heart that feels as though it’ll burst through your rib cage, you abandon your protection. There’s an owner's manual placed neatly in front of his body that you pick up with shaky hands. Activate your android by pressing on its led sensor for 10 seconds. It’s the longest 10 seconds of your life, heart hammering against your bones.

His eyes slowly peel open, blinking a couple of times as he takes in his surroundings. Human, scarily human. He’s careful of your reaction as he steps out of his box to not scare you too badly, pushing the door closed behind him to create more room in the small apartment. “Hello, I’m Jungkook.”

There it is.

You don’t answer, prompting him to continue introducing himself. “I’m a one-of-a-kind android that was beneficial for promotional purposes, but mainly I'm built to be the best companion possible for my owner. I possess old and new features that are designed to make the everyday life of my companion significantly better.”

“Jungkook?” You mumble, his name feels way too human. “What’s your full name?”

“Jeon Jungkook, from Busan, South Korea.” You could throw up everywhere, the realistic bot smiling softly as he stands in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. I’m Y/n. …you are an android, right? Do you mind if I, uh?” You gesture to his chest. Your brain is struggling to believe he’s an android and not some sort of joke sent to you. Jungkook happily obliges, removing his synthetic skin and popping open his chest panel. Stepping a bit closer, you can definitely confirm that they are CyberLife organs and blue blood. “Okay, sorry I’m just having trouble adjusting, that’s all,” You mumble, closing his panel for him.

“There is usually an adjustment period for new owners. Have you had another android in the past?” Jungkook asks, glancing around your apartment for any sign of one. He takes a couple of steps away from the box, feet making no noise despite being a giant piece of what is essentially machinery. Freaky.

“Oh, no no. It’s not that I’ve been against it, I just haven’t had the money or need for one I suppose.” You explain, feeling like you owe him an explanation as to why you don’t have an earlier model. “I’m a grad student, you see?”

Jungkook nods softly, gesturing to the couch for you to sit down. You follow, a bit confused as to what this could possibly be about. It feels as though he’s about to break up with you, making you laugh softly to yourself as you sit on the opposite side of the couch. “I’m not sure what needs you have, but just let me know and I will do my best to fulfill them. This can range from construction, gardening, cooking, cleaning, companionship, intimacy, etc.”

“Intimacy, what does that even mean in terms of an android?”

“Some androids are designed to carry out human wants and desires for sexual intercourse-”

“Okay, okay, sorry I asked.” You cut Jungkook off before he can give you the long, likely in-depth explanation of their usage. “So, what do you want to do around here? I mean it’s just me, so it’ll probably get pretty lonely unless you come to my classes with me.” You chuckle. “I mean, it’s not very big but it’s comfortable, feel free to help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

“I want to do what you want me to do, Y/n,” Jungkook answers, speaking like a true CyberLife android, a computer.

“God, it’s so weird.” You complain. “You look so human but act like you’re an android, so it’s just throwing me off.” You smile softly, watching as he smiles back. His smile is pretty, perfectly aligned teeth on full display. When he smiles hard, small wrinkles form in the corners of his eyes which you find oddly endearing. “Your LED also is barely noticeable, just all of it together tricks my mind into thinking you’re a human.”

“That’s how I was engineered, with that in mind.” He smiles, “I don’t think I’ll be mass-marketed due to how human my design is, it would likely cause unrest within society.” You nod along to that, it most definitely would only make the anti-android movement worse. “If you’d like, I can adjust my LED to be more of the stereotypical android look.”

“No, no that’s okay. I like you however you present yourself. But, can you change your hairstyle? It’s just a bit too CyberLife, fresh out of the package if you want to go out in public later on.” You shrug, once again feeling the need to explain to him. He does, switching through various hairstyles before deciding on one. It’s slightly longer, with soft waves making it look fluffier than before. It’s still just as dark, but it suits him.

“I can also simulate body modifications such as piercings, tattoos, scarification, split tongue, stretched lobes, whatever you would wish for me to look like,” Jungkook informs, once again sounding fresh out of the box.

“You do whichever ones you’d like, Jungkook. It’s your body, fake or not.” You smile, watching as he shuffles through the catalog of options in his head. A giant smile overtakes his face as he comes out with two face piercings, a couple of ear ones, and most notably his tattoo sleeve.

“Uhm, is this okay? I can always change my setting back if you prefer it-”

“It’s okay, Jungkook. We gotta get you out of your default settings, jeez.” You laugh. “I’m not really sure what to do now, I was watching a TV show if you’d like to watch it with me?”

“I’d love to.” He beams, watching as you jog into your room. (You forgot the name of it already, mind racing 1000 miles a minute with everything going on.) You come back out with blankets to hide it, handing him one as you set up the living room TV. “I’d also love to make you dinner while we watch, would that be okay?”

“Kook, YES. I don’t mind what you do unless it’s like actively punching holes in my drywall. Then maybe I’ll draw the line.” You joke, finally earning a laugh from him. It’s contagious, spreading over to you as you giggle along. You don’t think you’ve completely wrapped your brain around the fact that he’s one of a kind, purposely engineered to basically do anything and everything, and so annoyingly pretty as he sits in your small apartment content as ever. “Also, I’m not sure if you notice, but your footsteps make almost no noise. It’s okay to make sounds. I think if you walk around here completely silent you'll probably scare the shit out of me.”

“Noted.” Jungkook chuckles, sliding off of the couch and making his way into the kitchen. He makes more noise this time, and it’s much more comfortable that way. The soft knocking of pots and pans fills the background, not enough to be annoying but enough to let you know there is someone else here. Maybe, and you’d never ever admit it to Jimin, his addition to your home is starting to feel like it will be a welcomed one.

Getting used to having another person, an android, in the house is a learning experience. The following morning after he was delivered, you had completely forgotten all about him in your half-awake state. After using the bathroom, your feet shuffle out into the kitchen in search of any sustenance before you start the day, Jimin already texting you to ensure you guys are still on for your morning coffee run and walk to the CyberLife store.

“Good morning, I made you-”

You’ve never screamed so loud, so early in the morning. You’re sure you woke up all of your neighbors in a 5-door radius, along with the incoming noise complaint that is surely on its way. You screamed so loud that Jungkook has to recalibrate his audio processing system, standing still for multiple minutes as it reboots.

“Sorry, sorry Kook.” You cackle after the initial fright, hands holding your stomach as you almost cry from laughter. “Adjustment period, remember when you said that?” You laugh harder, making your way over to him. Jungkook laughs softly along with you, not nearly as hard but he feels happy seeing you so happy. He grins hard as you wipe away your tears, your stomach hurting from just how hard you're laughing. “Okay, okay, that’s enough. I have to stop.” With another glance at Jungkook in the kitchen, you’re cracking up again.

“Y/n! I thought I’d be nice and make you breakfast!” Jungkook whines as you continue laughing at him, unable to hold it back for longer than one-minute intervals. You slowly calm down over the course of the next 10 minutes, forcing yourself to not think about it. “Anyway, I made you a breakfast sandwich. I’m not sure if you have anything to do today but-” Jungkook stops talking as he notices your chest heaving, trying hard not to laugh. “Are you-are you serious?? You can't even look at me huh?” Jungkook cracks, smiling hard.

At this point, there are tears rolling down your face. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, I’m done for real this time. Just had to get it out of my system.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Jungkook jokes, putting the plate in front of you regardless of you continuing to giggle every now and then.

“I’m not sure what you’d like to do today, but I’m gonna go out with a friend for a bit. There’s not much to do here, I’m normally used to being out all the time, but there’s Netflix, Hulu, Disney, whatever you’d like to watch.” You talk in between bites, rushing as you inhale the food. You get ready quickly, awkwardly side-hug Jungkook as a goodbye, and rush off to meet up with Jimin.

Jimin is as ecstatic as ever, going on and on about who he thinks got the android in yesterday’s raffle. He gets his hopes up a bit before going to the store, coming up with the idea that maybe no one won and he’ll be unboxed today. Nerves flood throughout your body, your mind thinking back to the sweet boy that made you breakfast this morning. “Anyway, what’re you up to today?” Jimin sighs after his excitement, strolling along the sidewalk with his drink in hand.

“Probably a bit of holiday shopping, and hanging out with a friend-”

“A friend?! Who? Do I know them?” He interrupts you, immediately questioning.

“No, no I don’t think you do. He’s a family friend of my mom’s side-”

“HE?”

“I hate talking to you.” You laugh, no longer feeling the need to continue talking about it. You ignore Jimin’s prying questions, favoring dismissing all of them. What’s he look like? Where’s he from? Is he cute? What’s his name? Is he nice? Jimin brings up anything and everything. “Okay, we’re here, oh noooo.” You chuckle, pretending to be disappointed.

“I’ll find out eventually.” Jimin sticks his tongue out at you before entering the store. He’s beyond disappointed that the box is no longer sitting in the store, texting you about it as you walk home.

Coming home, you’re a bit more prepared as you enter your apartment, spotting Jungkook in the living room. The upcoming week is your adjustment period, slowly becoming less and less spooked by his presence in your cozy home. Jungkook has learned to turn down his hearing slightly in the mornings until you get used to him, no longer having to re-coordinate his processing system constantly. You’ve also warmed up a lot to him over the week, the sweet android quickly becoming a part of your everyday life and holding a fond place in your heart. You’ve made movie nights become a ritual, cuddling up to Jungkook on colder nights. (He’s aware and even adjusts his systems to make himself put out more heat for you.)

Jungkook is also the best listener you know, listening and taking in all of the stories you’re willing to tell him. He knows a lot about Jimin, as you seem to hang out with him the most. He had dumbly asked if he was your boyfriend, sending you into another laughing fit you were unable to stop. Along with this, he’s started accompanying you out more. Jungkook comes on grocery runs with you, goes to the library with you, goes to the nearby cafe you frequent, and even begins joining you on nights out at clubs. It’s scary how no one realizes he’s an android and doesn’t even bat an eye at him even in android-free spaces.

Most nights out, Jungkook has to fight you into bed in your tipsy state. You appreciate him for it, and all of the patience he shows you. “Y/n, let me take off your makeup.” Jungkook giggles softly, sitting on the edge of the bed as he holds a makeup wipe in his hand. He’s carefully holding your ankle in his palm, keeping you from sliding head first off the bed if you move too much. As you shuffle around to better lay on the bed, he no longer needs to restrain you. Currently, you have the spins, holding onto Jungkook’s clothes in a death grip to ground yourself. Jungkook smiles softly at you. “It’ll just take two seconds, come here.”

You finally oblige, shuffling around to place your head in his lap. “Do your worst, pretty boy.” You slur slightly, smiling up at him.

“Pretty boy?” Kook raises a brow at you.

“Mhmm, my pretty boy.” You nod, wearing a soft smile as Jungkook wipes your makeup off. “You wanna sleep with me?”

“Sorry?” Jungkook almost chokes on his fake spit.

“You’re warm, come, lay down.” You coax him, pulling him down. You’re not laying on the bed the right way at all, heads laying at the foot of the bed. You’re also slightly diagonal, not caring at all as you cuddle close to him for warmth. Jungkook smiles hard as you nuzzle into his chest, one of your legs swinging over his. “Warm, soft.” You hum. You get the best sleep of your entire life, and it now becomes a normal thing for Jungkook to lay with you.

You learn a lot about him during this time as well. One, Jungkook can taste and eat as his program allows him to. He doesn’t need to at all, but once again he was built for companionship and he can’t think of anything sadder than people eating meals alone. You had learned this when Jungkook offered to eat with you, confusing you to hell and back before actually explaining. Now, you always make him get something when you guys go out in public, to really sell the whole he’s just a human drinking his overpriced cafe drink!! Considering other androids don't eat or drink anything other than blue blood, it really adds to his non-android appearance.

Two, he’s been programmed to be good at absolutely everything.

Personal fitness: Jungkook is more than happy to accompany you on jogs, encouraging you but also giving you the peace of mind you need when running through rough parts of town. Along with this, he somehow is able to calculate your strides and distance, which you believe blindly and don’t even question. Lastly, he’s able to carry water and electrolyte snacks that he claims are good for you when you’re physically active. When you refuse to drink, Jungkook jokingly wrestles you into submission until you take at least one sip.

Cooking: Jungkook has taken to making all of your meals, and you’re not even upset about it. Every meal is different but just as delicious, you assume he has some sort of chef programming. When you don’t have an item Jungkook needs, he’s more than willing to go out and get it for you. You’re a bit too anxious to send him on his own, but in reality, he’d probably be okay given his appearance. Despite taking over cooking needs, if you’re lucky he sometimes lets you help out with baking holiday cookies. Jungkook still takes to distracting you, twirling you around with a giant smile to the music playing in the background.

“Kook,” You whine, a giant smile plastered on your face despite complaints. You can feel Jungkook smile as he tucks his face into your neck, one hand holding your waist and the other taking your palm into his own. “The cookies will burn.”

“They still have 3 minutes, don’t worry hun.” Jungkook smiles hard, pulling back to look at you. You match the cheek-aching smile, forced to twirl as Kook easily spins you. Getting carried away, the cookies did slightly burn in the oven.

Makeup (yes, even makeup): Jungkook had offered to help you get ready for a research-related conference, let’s just say you got a lot of compliments that night.

Cleaning: You tell him constantly he doesn’t have to spend his days cleaning, but he listens very minimally and still picks up for you every day. Sometimes he tries to hide it from you, placing a very strategic piece of laundry on your floor to give the illusion that he didn’t clean. (It never works how he intends, once there was a random towel in the hallway while every other room was completely spotless. He was embarrassed about it the whole day.)

Security: He’s not a fighter under any circumstances at all, you can’t even imagine Jungkook getting into an altercation. You suppose he could if he needed, it’s likely somewhere deep in his programming. However, it’s the peace of mind he brings to you every night, you no longer deal with the worry of if your door is locked 1000 times.

Helping with your Grad assignments: Kook is a very advanced computer, how can you not?

And just simple companionship on days you’re worn down and tired. On days when you're very stressed out, he happily does your skincare to help you relax along with a small massage he knows from, who knows, somewhere deep in his computer brain.

“Kook, can you really take your time today, I need the relaxation.” You chuckle, grabbing all of your products and walking out of the bathroom. Jungkook follows, confusion growing even more as he watches you lay down on the floor with a pillow.

“....What are you doing?” Jungkook chuckles, standing over you a bit as he peers down.

“Come, sit, sit.” Without any more questioning, Jungkook sits with his legs slightly separated. You move to lay in between them, pillow on his lap. Ohhh, he sees now. Jungkook pulls out all of the stops he can with the tools provided, doing your skincare and giving you a massage. “Holy shit, you’re good at this.”

You suppose the only thing you’re unsure of with his skills is his intimacy feature, as you haven't had any reason or want to test it. You’ve been curious about the extent of the features, Jungkook is more than happy to once again explain all of his programming to you. Artificial saliva, physically soft skin, artificial bodily fluids, flexibility, shapes created with pleasure in mind, etc. The list goes on and on. He was also more than happy to offer his services to you, bright-eyed and excited about your reaction. You postpone the offer, maybe another time. At this, Jungkook begins his lecture about how it’s detrimental to one’s health to be sexually frustrated for too long that you put an end to, as quickly as possible.

You haven't introduced Jungkook to Jimin quite yet, a bit scared Jimin would immediately clock your android counterpart as exactly that, an android. You have to explain this to Jungkook, who wants to meet Jimin more than anyone else since you seem to be such great friends. He understands the dilemma but still wants to meet regardless.

Maybe four weeks into the break, there’s a knock on the door that catches Jungkook’s attention more than yours. You’re busy getting tangled in the Christmas tree lights that are impossibly knotted, Jungkook trying to help out as much as he can. He’s hesitant after accidentally pulling one of the cords and almost swiping your feet out from underneath you. “Can you go get that please, Kook?” You mumble, lights somehow wrapped around your waist, legs, and neck. Jungkook scurries to do as he’s told, not wanting to take over lights for you.

You can hear the door creak open, followed by a period of silence. “Who are you??” Your hands stop moving, eyes blown wide as you glance over to the door. Shit shit shit.

“Hey Jimin! Come in!” You call from the living room, still hard at work at making the lights cooperate with you. You pray to god he doesn’t see you sweat. “I told you about him, remember? He’s in town for a while on an internship. Jimin, this is Jungkook, a family friend. Jungkook, this is Jimin.” You introduce the two of them. Jimin turns around to face Jungkook, Jungkook quickly catches your eye contact. You mouth to him to turn his LED off completely, which he follows.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook smiles wide, garland hanging down from his arms as he shakes Jimin’s hand. Jimin shakes his hand back, turning back to you.

“Y/n! You didn’t tell me said friend was so hot!” Finally, the atmosphere breaks as all of you laugh along with each other. The entire interaction is based solely on the assumption you have that no one has seen Jungkook’s design, including Jimin. He doesn’t seem to clock Jungkook immediately, joining in on your and Kook’s journey of setting up the decorations. Jimin gets ornaments in order, Kook garland, and you get lights. Next, you all take turns walking around the tree stringing everything up. The star is the scariest part, Jungkook insists on just lifting you to place it atop the tree.

Jimin laughs his ass off the entire time, watching as Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs and easily lifts. “Jungkook, my ass is in your face.” You laugh, wobbling slightly as you cackle. Jimin also laughs hard at this.

“I’m not looking, promise.” This only makes the group of you laugh harder. Jimin looks at Jungkook to check the accuracy, falling to his knees as he sees Jungkook’s head at a 90-degree angle looking sideways. “Put the star on!” Jungkook calls, laughing softly. Thankfully, you come down unscathed and unharmed. You all settle in, putting on holiday movies to watch.

“Do you guys want hot chocolate?” You ask, already getting up and making your way into the kitchen to start making them.

“I’ll help.” You send Jungkook a hard glare, seating him back down. “Ugh, fine. You never make mine right though.” He complains, sitting back down and grabbing his blanket once more. You can see him and Jimin talking, but you’re unable to hear it over the movie. Walking back in slowly, you cautiously carry three mugs.

“Here, you big baby. Hot chocolate with extra chocolate and whipped cream.” You hand Jungkook his and then Jimin's. “And regular for you like an adult.” You watch as Jungkook sticks his tongue out at you, making you laugh as you sit down.

“Extra chocolate? Kook, do you mind if I taste yours?” Jimin asks, scooching forward to reach over you. Jungkook mumbles something about wanting his whipped cream, quickly licking the majority of it off the top before handing it over. Jimin glances down at the cup before taking a sip, nodding his head. “Y/n, can you make mine like that next time?”

“Wow.” You laugh, rolling your eyes as you return your attention back to the movie. The night continues without much more commotion, the group of you watching movies and taking turns making cocktails. Jungkook purposely dumbs his down to hide himself, relief washing over you as you’re handed a simple mixed drink. (Jungkook can and will make the most elaborate, bartender-level drinks you’ve ever seen.) Maybe he’s not as clueless as he pretends to be.

“I think I should get going, gotta get up early in the morning.” Jimin yawns, standing up and stretching. “I won’t make you come get coffee with me since I have to be at work at 6 am.”

At this, you recoil. “So generous, Jimin. I definitely would not make it there at 5:30.” You laugh, getting up off the couch to walk him out. “Do you want us to walk with you, it’s a bit late Jim.”

“...Tae is picking me up.” You gasp as Jimin opens the door. Jimin slaps a hand over your mouth. “And NO! You can’t meet him tonight, I have to at least give him a warning in advance.”

“I hate you.” You sigh, jokingly shoving him out of the door frame. “I’ll see you soon, loser. Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe and so I know this weird, unknown, creepy Taehyung that I’ve never met didn’t kidnap you or something.” Waving goodbye to Jimin, you can finally breathe as you shut the door. “He’s skeptical of you.” You huff.

“I know.” Jungkook mumbles, “I think the hot chocolate and drinks convinced him, though. He stopped being skeptical after that. Now, he’s skeptical and thinks we’re dating.”

You don’t know how Jungkook can tell, but you believe him. With a long sigh, you return to the couch, plopping down back onto the blankets. “He’s too skeptical about everything.” You laugh. Kook follows you into the living room, laying down on top of you. “He wouldn’t care that you’re an android, Kook.” You reassure him, “I just don’t want that to be your description and introduction to people we meet.” Jungkook nods in agreement.

After the small bout with Jimin, Jungkook settles in very well over the course of December.

He makes breakfast, wishes you a safe trip before your departure if you’re doing somewhere without him, sometimes earns himself a peck on the cheek that makes him blush bright red, picks up around the apartment or organizes, and then just hangs around until you get home. He genuinely believes you getting home is the best part of his day, can’t even imagine a better person to wait around for. Sometimes you guys will go out for the evening if you’re not tired, other nights you both stay in and watch tv or movies cuddled close together.

For once, you’re not spending the holidays alone. Over the last couple of years, you had always gone over to Jimin’s apartment for company if he was still in town. Other times, you just spent the holiday watching movies. “Merry Christmas Eve, Kook.” You hum, sitting close to him with your head resting on his shoulder. Your knees are folded underneath you, facing Jungkook’s lap but not on him. Jungkook rests his head on yours, a blanket tossed over both of your laps. You’ve already made cookies and Jungkook started cooking ahead for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner. Jungkook has been scolding you constantly for making him do dumb childish Christmas activities, cookies for Santa, carrots for reindeer, etc. You think it’s cute.

“Merry Christmas Eve, pretty girl.” Jungkook hums back, reaching over to hold your hands. He’s taken to calling you pet names, making you blush furiously every time.

“Do you want an early Christmas present?” You smile hard at him, glancing up at him.

“Is that even a question?” Jungkook giggles, watching as you jump off the couch and immediately sprint into the bedroom. He can hear loud rummaging, and he’s about 99% sure you’re in the closet. You come out with a medium-sized gift bag, presenting it to him. Placing it in his lap, you watch with a giant smile as he opens it. Somehow, he reaches underneath his set and instead pulls out your matching pajamas. “Y/n, I don't think these will fit me.” He chuckles.

“How do you go underneath the top thing?” You scoff, snatching them out of his hands and quickly hiding them behind your back. Kook chuckles softly as he finally pulls out his set, a giant smile plastered on his face as he examines it. “And, I also have one. So we can match.” With loud laughter, you and Jungkook begin sprinting to the hall. You duck into your room, and Jungkook disappears into the bathroom.

Your heart feels heavy with emotion as Jungkook steps out of the bathroom on the other side of the hall, you stand in the doorway of your room. “Y/n, thank you.” Jungkook mumbles, voice wavering a bit as he reaches out and takes your hand in his. You could cry as he pulls you into his arms, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for everything.”

“C'mon now, don’t get all sentimental Jeon.” If you get any more sentimental, you’ll cry. “You’re not going anywhere for a while.”

“I wouldn’t even think of it.” He smiles, leading you back to your Christmas movie marathon in the living room. Watching movies for the rest of the night, Christmas comes before you even realize it.

“Merry Christmas,” Jungkook speaks softly, once again kissing your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, my sweet boy.” You kiss his cheek in return, fighting the blush away.

Christmas is exactly what you’ve dreamed of, eating together, watching movies, opening gifts, setting up and playing with said gifts, and spending plenty of time cuddled up together. For Jungkook’s gifts, you got him a game system and a phone to keep him busy once the spring semester starts in a couple of weeks. Jungkook’s quick to input your number, demanding it as soon as it comes out of the box.

“Are you ready for your presents?” Jungkook smiles.

“Am I huh?” You question, raising a brow. You weren't expecting anything since Jungkook is an android, and therefore is unable to work unless it’s programmed into him. Along with this, he hasn’t asked you for any money within the last couple of weeks. “How, Kook?” You mumble as he comes out of your apartment's small storage closet with gifts, a bright smile on his face.

“I maybe, maybe not, went out and did college kid’s homework and assignments for cash.” Jungkook cheekily smiles, avoiding the look you give him. He’s lucky he’s so sweet and kind, otherwise, you’d scold him to hell and back for it. At least he was able to get around without being clocked as an android, you choose to look on the bright side. He sets the prettily wrapped box in your lap, yet another thing he’s good at. It’s a new bookbag and a recipe book, Jungkook’s pretty handwriting, and little doodles filling the pages. There’s a card in the bag, you already know it’s going to be sentimental and doubt you’ll be unable to read it without crying.

As you suspected, you’re in tears by the end of the card. You sniffle hard as you press it against your face, hiding your tears from Jungkook. “Nooo, don’t cry. That wasn’t my intention.” Jungkook coos at you, wrapping you in his arms with ease. “Your bookbag seemed to have a lot of miles on it, I figured I’d get you a new one for the upcoming semester. The recipe book is in case you ever want to cook for me, since you always complain about never being able to make me dinner.” Jungkook explains. “And the note is just my gratitude, I suppose.”

“I told you no more sentimental stuff.” You chuckle, wiping your tears off your face as you turn to properly hug him. “Sorry I didn’t write you a card, I didn’t even think of it.” You mumble.

“I don’t need a card, trust me,” Jungkook speaks softly, kissing your cheek where a tear stain still remains. “Do you wanna get back to our movie?” With a nod, Jungkook is quick to put it back on and pull you close to him, allowing you to lay on his chest. The movie begins to wrap up, your mouth opens before you can rethink it.

“Kook?”

“Hm?”

“Do you wish you were human? Or do you wish you were given to a different owner?” You ask curiosity just genuinely wanting to know his answer.

“I’m not sure, really. I suppose being a human has a lot of rules for socializing, existing, and everything else. I know I’m not a human, but it does feel like I am so I suppose that’s close enough for me to be content.” Jungkook explains, shrugging softly as he holds you to him. “And I don’t wish I was given to another human, I really like it here. I think if I were with anyone else, they’d likely treat me like an android and expect me to, idk, act like one. That seems like a stupid question, given my completely sincere and heartfelt letter.”

You giggle, nodding to agree with him. “Yeah, probably. It’s easy to expect you to act like a perfect android when that’s how you were marketed, after all.” You giggle, sitting up to peer down at him. Your hands rest on his chest to support some of your weight. Jungkook is very pretty, even prettier peering up at you with eyebrows slightly scrunched together. “I still just can't believe you’re an android, Kook. Sometimes I don’t think about it and just see you as a person. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, always.” Jungkook grits as he stares up at you.

“You’ve been using I think and I feel, Jungkook.” Jungkook tenses hard underneath you, fear momentarily flashing across his face. “CyberLife programming doesn’t do that. Were you built with a missing code, or did you break your coding when you got here?” You ask softly, hands meeting his face and gently holding it in your palms. Jungkook seems scared, fighting for an appropriate answer to your question. “I like it, Kook. I was hoping this would happen, but I wasn’t going to try and recode or reprogram you myself. I just want to know. Your note was also a dead giveaway, Jeon.”

“...I broke out of it partly when I got here and you started asking me to just be myself and not be my program.” Jungkook answers truthfully, “And then I broke out of it completely when it wouldn’t let me feel love for you, platonically or romantically. I didn’t like it, so I got out.”

You smile hard at him, rubbing the stress out of his face softly with your thumbs. Leaning forward, you place a soft kiss on his forehead. “I love you too, Jeon.”

Jungkook’s hands meet your knees on the couch, holding onto them as you sit on his lap. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable Y/n,” Jungkook almost whines underneath you, squeezing your knees. “But my programming, it’s uhm, on, right now. I can’t really control it just yet, it's created to react to your actions and body. And you’re, uhm moving a lot right now. Just give me a minute to-”

“...What if I want to, maybe, utilize these features?”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whines, hands coming up to cover his face momentarily. His head pushes itself back into the throw pillow he was resting on. You smile as his hair spreads out around his face as he does so.

“Only if that’s what you want too, Kook.” You mumble, shuffling slightly to better distribute your weight on his lap. Jungkook genuinely whines, his hips bucking slightly against your own as he searches for friction. You rise to your knees slightly at this, Jungkook quickly moving his palms to seat you back down. His warm hands splay across your thighs and finger tips digging at your hips, holding you down. Excitement bubbles deep in your chest, knees squeezing Jungkook’s waist a bit tighter. “Kook, I can feel you.” You whine as his hands press your hips into his, the pajamas much thinner than you realized before. “I need words, Jungkook, for confirmation.”

“Y/n, I’ve been offered my services for weeks. I have been out of my program for weeks as well,” Jungkook grins, hands sliding, moving your hips to grind down onto him. “There is nothing I want more.” He answers honestly, sitting up to meet you. “Please, let me make you feel good.” Jungkook meets your lips, extremely soft as he kisses you. He waits for you to respond, too scared of making you uncomfortable by moving too quickly. Kissing him back, Jungkook is quick to pull you close, chest pressed flush against one another.

His eyes quickly meet yours as you pull him back softly by his hair, searching your face for any discomfort as quickly as his computer brain can process human emotion. You don’t give him much, your eyes scanning across his features as you take them in. “I just wanna see my pretty boy, that’s all.” You reassure, pecking his lips a couple of times as you guide him to lay back down on his back. He happily lets you do as you please, god he’d let you do anything. His eyebrows knit together as your cold hands slip underneath the pajama top, easily slipping it up and off. Jungkook is quick to follow, tossing your top off before quickly pulling you down to him, warm skin pressed together. “So warm, Kook.” You mumble against his lips, your hands finding purchase on his biceps.

“So soft, you’re so soft.” Jungkook groans against your lips, hands kneading your skin underneath them as he explores every inch of exposed skin. He rubs goosebumps away every now and then, holding you even closer. “Let me make you feel good, pretty girl. Lay back for me." Jungkook's voice is husky, lips never fully leaving yours as he talks to you. You follow his instructions, moving to lay on your back as he quickly follows. You’re completely flipped now, Jungkook in between your legs as he leans over you.

His palms never leave you longer than it takes to remove clothing, lips working their way along your jaw. “So perfect for me, just for me. Always wanna be with you, Y/n.” Jungkook almost babbles into your skin, leaving dark marks in his wake. Sooner than you can comprehend, you’re completely bare before him.

“Kook, this feels unfair,” You complain, reaching to pull at his pajama pants.

Jungkook basically rolls his eyes at you, pulling at his pants and kicking them off behind him, not paying much attention and basically clearing the coffee table. “Would you just focus?” He smiles, having to bite back a soft laugh.

“You just swiped everything off the coffee table.” You comment dryly, also having to bite back a laugh at the situation. “You know, you’re literally a house robot, you’ll be cleaning it up-fuck,” Jungkook isn’t listening anymore, sliding down to his torso and nipping at your thighs.

“You were saying?” He humors you, diving in before giving you a real chance to answer his question. It’s impossible to talk, mewls and whines slipping through every time you try to come up with some witty, snarky response. Jungkook, smug, knows that. He’s unrelenting, face buried in between your legs with no signs of moving.

“Kook, how are you, fuck, so good at this?” You whine, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer to you. Jungkook, at the pull, groans, animalistic as he gives you exactly what you want. “Kook,” You mumble, hips lifting off of the couch to grind against him.

“Yes, there you go, pretty girl.” Jungkook groans against your skin. You push and pull, moving him exactly how you need, how you want. Jungkook, ever eager to please, could get off on this alone. His hips unconsciously grind against the couch, needing some sort of relief, it’s almost torture. “Gotta get you ready, feel good, hm?” Jungkook asks softly, vibration shooting straight to the knot in your stomach. One that only tightens as his fingers move, easily sliding inside, kneading at exactly where you need him.

“Is this a programming thing?” You whine, clenching tightly around his fingers from the pleasure. He knows exactly what you need, exactly how to give it to you.

“It's wanting to please you.” He answers quickly, going right back to his work. He can feel you react as you grow closer, clenching tighter around him, grinding harder against his face, thighs closing in around his head. “Feel good, hm?”

“Too good,” You whine, legs beginning to shake as you draw closer, body on fire. “You’re going to make me cum, gonna cum for you.” Your voice cracks, coming unraveled on his fingers. Jungkook relishes in it, committing every sound to memory, every shake, every twitch of your thighs around his head. He groans as he tastes you, tastes it, arms wrapping tighter around your hips to hold you in place.

“Kook, need more, need you,” You whine loudly, hands reaching to his shoulders to pull him up. He follows, moaning softly when your legs wrap around his waist.

“Need it, or want it?” He asks, kissing along your skin, “Take it pretty girl, take all you want.” Jungkook leads, softly pulling you up to straddle his hips. Kook pulls at his boxers, helping you maneuver around to get more comfortable. “Gonna let you lead, make yourself feel good.” It all feels like too much, body on fire as you grind against him, easily slipping along his cock. Your legs are just now recovering, shaky as you pick your body weight up, easily sliding down.

“Kook, wait wait fuck,” You whine, hips pressing themselves down until he’s buried as deep as he can, stopping all your movement. “Feels good, really good.” Your skin is on fire, and you have no doubt that your cheeks and ears are bright red. Trying to find purchase anywhere, your hands grip his forearms where they hold your waist. He feels too good, your mind feeling fuzzy as your chest rises and falls as you try to calm down. Pretty, he looks so pretty underneath you as he peers up through half lidded eyes. A small wrinkle forms in between his brows as he focuses all his attention on your pleasure.

“Pretty girl~” Jungkook almost coos to you, leaning up to press your foreheads against one another. “Let me take care of you, I’ll be so gentle I promise. Lemme make you feel good.” He reassures you, grinding against you to prove his point. Shapes with pleasure in mind weren't a lie, his cock perfectly angled to catch that soft spot inside everytime. Placing your hands onto his chest, you regain a tiny bit of stability as you slide along his cock. The little bit of composure you have is short lived, Jungkook’s beginning to slide out before slowly pushing back in, only stopping when your hips connect again.

“So deep, Kook,” You can only whine, arms losing their strength as you slip down, only holding your hips up and resting on his chest. “Sorry, it feels too good,” You apologize as he does all the work, thrusting while also maneuvering your hips to target where it feels best. Everytime he bottoms out, he’s sure to grind against your clit, only adding to your overwhelmed state. You’ve barely even started, barely even moved, and you’re panting like a bitch in heat. A giant smirk comes across Jungkook's face, pride blooming in his chest as you whine and pant all for him.

“Feels good, hm? You’re gonna be a good girl and let me hear you come for me?” He rasps against your ear, one of his hands moving to hold the back of your head. “So pretty, beautiful. All for me.” He encourages, making your face flush further as he forces you to stare into his eyes. It feels as though if you were pinched hard enough you’d wake up. “Come for me Y/n, all over my cock, wanna feel you.” It hits you out of nowhere, almost blind siding you as it washes over your entire body. Your thighs clamp down around Jungkook’s waist hard, trying to still the stimulation. He doesn’t allow such luxury, determined to thoroughly ride you through the orgasm, continuing his movement until you’re almost begging.

“Kook?” Your voice is rough as you finally speak up, shaky hands meeting his chest as you push yourself up once again.

“Hm?” He acknowledges you, hands running across your skin to smooth out any goosebumps that remain. You’re about 90% sure his touch is what’s sprouting them, but you don’t have the mindfulness right now to tell him that.

“Why does it feel so good? S’like I can't even think with you inside me.” You whimper as you feel him throb, hips beginning to grind against him for some sort of stimulation. Jungkook beams underneath you as you instinctively fuck yourself onto him, so desperate for pleasure. Your brows knit together and bottom lip is quickly caught between your teeth as you grind your clit against him, cock nudging your g spot simultaneously.

“Hmmm, I don't know. Scientifically there are multiple answers for that. But realistically, it’s likely my design and programming, and the fact you haven't been touched the entire time I’ve been here.” He chuckles at the last bit, reminiscing on all the lectures about sexual health and how too much frustration is a bad thing, “You’re extra sensitive, and I know just what to do, where to touch, how to make you tick, Y/n.” He teases as he slowly rubs the pad of his thumb into your swollen clit, the sensation making you cave in on yourself as you try to avoid it. “Cute.”

“Jungkook, m’serious!” You slur, rocking softly.

“I know pretty girl, I know. I can tell.” Jungkook chides, clearly finding some sort of humor as he watches you shake and twitch because of his cock. “You feel good, hm? Help yourself pretty.”

“I'll try,” You nod, your bottom lip finding its place between your teeth once more. Your feet lift a bit to hook around Jungkook’s inner thighs, giving you some sort of leverage to fuck yourself up and down. The very first movement is already pulling a whine from past your lips, so sensitive already. Jungkook's eyes are fixated where the two of you are connected, giant eyes watching his cock disappear and reappear. He feels himself throb as a ring of your cum begins to form, deep, deep pride and smugness brewing.

“Taking me so good, riding me so well.'' Jungkook praises, feeling his cock jump once again as your thighs begin to tremble softly. “Feels good?” Jungkook coos, palms beginning to run over the muscle.

“Really good,” You nod, biting back moans. Jungkook moans softly when you tighten around him, hands reaching up for your face.

“Be my good girl, let me hear you. Gotta hear how good my cock makes you feel,” Jungkook moans softly as you tighten around his cock. His fingers gently slip into your mouth, running along your tongue to hold your mouth open, preventing you from biting down on your lip again. “There you go,” He smiles as you moan and whimper, drool beginning to pool around Jungkook's fingers (not that he minds at all.) “I need to know how good I am to you,” He cracks, a small whimper slipping as he finishes his sentence.

“You look so pretty, Kook-ah,” You babble around his fingers softly, looking down at him. The visual is almost enough to make you cum on the spot, so unbelievably worked up it almost hurts. The way he’s peering up at you like you’re everything to him, chest beginning to artificially flush, lips bright red, cheeks beginning to match. His hair is still splayed around his head, creating a pretty halo. “Gonna cum again for you,” You whimper, hips meeting his own with a small slap.

“Good,” He smiles, rubbing small circles in your clit when you begin avoiding grinding onto him. It makes your legs shake further, your moans growing as you’re unable to muffle yourself, one hand still holding your jaw. You cum hard, thighs shaking harder than you’ve ever experienced before. Jungkook's sensitive to your reaction, slowing down his movements to allow you to ride through it without it hurting too much. “Good girl, so good for me, feels good, hm? Just a bit longer,” He talks you through it gently, voice honey to your ears.

You nod, riding through it for as long as possible. As you finish, your body slumps forward, arms wrapping around Kook’s neck as you hug him close. “Do you not cum? Is that not how this works?” You chuckle softly, his cock still throbbing softly.

“I can, when I feel that my partner has been thoroughly pleased and satisfied.” He informs, his CyberLife popping out for a quick moment. You shake, holding him closer. Jungkook wraps his arms around you, gently stroking your hair as you calm down.

“You’re going to be the death of me, how much more satisfied am I gonna get?”

“We’ll find out.”

“Jungkook,” You pull back the slightest bit to catch his face, a cheeky smirk written all over it. He leans forward, placing a soft kiss onto the tip of your nose.

“I gotta make up for the weeks you were celibate.” He softly grinds up into you, filling you with a wave of want once more. “I need to satisfy you,” He teases, kissing along your jaw and beginning to trail down to your neck. “Make sure no one else ever does it as good as me, no one else can make you cum like I can.” He continues, beginning to sit up and make you sit up as well, easily lifting both of your body weight.

“Fuck, Kook,” You whine, allowing him to maneuver you onto your back, never slipping out once. You can feel him throb softly, beginning to work himself up.

“So even if you look elsewhere, all you’ll think of is me, this pussy all mine, always,” He bites down softly into the flesh of your shoulder, leaving a light mark. “My girl,” He smiles, leaving light marks once more. His hips instinctively grind into you as he talks, not giving you a break for a second.

“All yours, Kook. I'm all yours.” You whimper softly as he slides out entirely, slowly filling you up again.

“Fuck, Y/n,” He whimpers into your neck, seemingly beginning to feel affected. “So tight,” He pants softly, hiking your legs up before pinning them to his shoulders, hands placed firmly on the couch underneath you. He’s deeper like this, able to target exactly where you need him without even really trying to. He slides out slowly, snapping his hips forward this time. It forces a moan from the both of you, sharp spikes of pleasure shooting up your back.

Jungkook holds his torso up, strong arms flexing and veins beginning to show. Your hands grip hard at his biceps, trying to find some sort of stability as he easily folds you in half, hips unrelenting as he snaps them forward. You can't quiet down, mind becoming fuzzy as you moan and whine for him.

“So tight, just, ah fuck, pulling me in, Y/n.” Jungkook pants, hands beginning to form fists where he holds the couch underneath his palms. You clench around him, words shooting straight to your core. “Don’t, shit, do that,” His hips falter the slightest bit, head falling forward slightly.

“Want you to cum with me, Jeon,” You mumble softly, arms reaching around to claw and pull at his back, pulling him closer. “You'll do that for me, please?” You ask, catching his eye contact as he pulls his head up. He lets out a soft moan as you make eye contact, abs beginning to contract as he fights off his pleasure. Fuck, he’d do anything for you.

“Need you to cum again first, just one more,” He speaks softly, reaching forward and pecking your lips softly before pulling away, he leans back a bit, giving himself more room to maneuver. His hips snap hard, chasing both of your highs. You almost complain at the loss of closeness, but quickly forget about it. “Let me have it, Y/n, need to feel you,”

It’s expected, but still rips through you, head thrown back into the couch as you shake hard. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, almost panting through your orgasm. Jungkook's hips don’t relent, chasing his own high. A loud whimper falls past your lips, hands reaching down in an attempt to push his hips away, “I know, I know, just a bit more, gonna cum for you, just like you asked pretty,” He consoles you, reaching down and softly pulling your palm up to his lips. He softly kisses your palm, hips stuttering and becoming uncoordinated as he teeters on the edge.

“Please, Jungkook, cum in me,” You whimper, the overstimulation almost too much. Your hand holds the side of his face, his own hands falling to hold onto you.

“Fuck, fuck, cumming for you,” He whimpers, hips surging forward, cumming as deep as possible. You whine and twitch as he continues, throughly fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the mess the two of you made together. His chest rises and falls, small pants slipping past his soft lips as he leans forward, holding you as close as possible as he kisses you, slow and deep, passionate. It makes you throb, quickly pushing him away before you get going again.

“Kook,” You smile hazily at him.

“Right, right,” Jungkook chuckles softly, pulling out as carefully as he can. He's covered in your cum, and you’d probably be more embarrassed if you had a sense of rationale left. “So fucking pretty,” He comments, and you meet his eyes to see what he’s talking about. He’s not staring at you, he’s looking at your pussy, hands hiking your legs up by your knees.

“JUNGKOOK!!” The embarrassment begins to come back as does your rationality. Your legs pull against his hands, closing in on yourself.

“I mean it,” He laughs softly, letting you go as he leans forward to kiss you once more. “C’mon,” He smiles, wrapping his arms around you and easily lifting you. You don’t pay much attention, but you know he’s walking to the bathroom based on the direction he’s going. He runs you a warm bath, consistently checking the temperature for you. He waits with you while it fills, softly rubbing out sore muscles to the best of his ability, kissing the dark marks in your skin. Once it’s filled, he carefully helps you in, making sure you don’t slip. Once you’re fully in, he gets up and begins to make his way out.

“Kook? Can you not take a bath?”

“I can, I just need to clean up really quick first. I’ll be right back, promise,” He smiles, kissing the top of your head before leaving. You can faintly hear him shuffle about, evening declaring the space clean enough before joining you in the bath, sliding behind you. “You feel okay?” Jungkook asks softly against your shoulder, voice making goosebumps sprout against your skin. Your head is leaned back against his shoulder, back completely rested against his torso. “Anything hurt too badly?” He asks genuinely, not looking as he kisses the bite mark on your shoulder he left behind.

“Yeah, I feel okay,” You smile, nudging against him softly. “I need to know though, how does your cum work? Do I have to buy a plan B or? That’d be kinda freaky, technology so advanced it can create life.”

Jungkook genuinely laughs, making the water slosh as the both of you bounce softly. “No, no. It acts as a lubricant actually, so we could keep going if we really wanted to.” He smiles, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he hugs you close. “I wish though, you’d be such a good mama for me,” His voice vibrates against your skin, his palms splaying across your stomach where he holds you close. Once again, your pussy aches as he talks softly against your skin.

“Do not!” You warn, pushing his face and hand away as it begins trailing further down. “We'll be going round 2,3,4, and 5 if you keep it up.” You laugh, trying to get away from him.

“C’mon, pretty, relax. Let me clean you up,” Jungkook giggles as you slide away from him, trying to sit on the opposite side of the tub. He grabs your ankle, easily manuerving you to rest against his torso once more. He does as he promises, gently cleaning all the fluids and sweat off of your body, hands ghostly as he tries not to stimulate you any further. “I love you Y/n.” Jungkook sighs softly as he finishes his work, arms coming to wrap around you.

“I love you too, Kook.” You smile softly, craning your neck around to kiss him gently. You carefully maneuver your feet under you, shakily standing out of the water.

“Easy there, bambi,” He chuckles, holding his arms out on either side of you in case you really do lose balance and slip. He's persistent in his precaution, careful to hold his arms out until you’re securely on the bath mat on stable footing.

“C’mon, finish cleaning up so you can come warm me up,”

“I like the sound of that-“

“Jeon.”

“Right.”

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stevebabey · 9 months

Text

totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines

“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”

The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.

“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.

Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.

And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.

He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.

Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.

Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.

Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.

How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.

How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.

Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.

Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.

And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.

So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.

They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.

It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.

Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.

Steve gets that a little more now.

So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.

So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”

Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.

“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”

Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”

He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.

“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”

“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”

“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”

Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”

Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”

Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”

He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.

Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”

Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.

“Do you?”

“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”

His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.

Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.

So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?

He’ll do it gladly.

Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.

"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”

Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.

"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"

"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"

“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."

Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.

Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”

Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.

“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”

“Cheese?” Steve suggests.

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”

Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.

“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”

Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.

“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”

—

some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!

@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D

#ignoring the other characters rn lmao #i wrote it in a day. Sue me #something about like eddie being convinced that steve Doesn’t Understand #cos if he did he wouldn’t have done this!!#and steve being like i know eddie… i know #I Knew It And I Did It Anyways #steve’s puts-himself-on-the-line selflessness vs. eddie disbelieving he’s worth it #[street fighter voice] FIGHT!#uhhhhh does baby boy steve even know he likes men yet? probably notttt #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie hurt/comfort

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quizzicalwriter · 5 months

Note

can u plsss do smut dallas x reader where he ties a vibrator to you? thank uuuu

Torment

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas had never been one for toys, but your cute pleading may have swayed him - maybe.

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Porn with very little plot. Kissing, touching, fingering, rough sex, titty attention, toys. A whole lotta stuff.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 3.7k

Curiosity had always been your weak point, pure stupid curiosity. It’d wound you and Dallas up in your fair share of odd and semi-expensive situations; one he’d never let you live down being the impromptu visit to a restaurant in the middle of town, the very place where you’d spit your food into your napkin and pouted at the shitty quality until Dallas relented and drove you to a nearby hole-in-the-wall diner that served way better food for half the price.

Sometimes, to your benefit, your curiosity led you to funny or pleasurable paths - which was the main contender for why Dallas could never turn you down, that and your pout worked on him better than an offer of a cigarette. That said pout was exactly how you wound up in the passenger side of Buck’s T-Bird, humming absentmindedly to whatever song buzzed across the static-ridden radio during your thirty-minute drive into the center of town.

“I suppose I’m buying this thing?” Dallas asked around his cigarette, eyes half-squinted from the blaring overhead sun. You smiled over at him, bright smile and all as you nodded. He shook his head through a laugh, removing his cigarette from between his lips to rid the end of its built-up ash. “It better be worth the money.”

You knew it would be, how could it not? You and Dallas were fairly adventurous in bed, so when you prompted the idea of including a ‘toy’ into your time beneath the sheets he was naturally curious himself - until he heard the price. You’d ended up begging, peppering his still-tired face with small kisses until he relented and pushed your face away with a grunted-out laugh.

That’s how you got him to drive you nearly forty minutes into the town over, the only town that had a sex toy store. It was still new, something that wasn’t relatively talked about, but your friends had been raving about the thing and you couldn’t help but want one of your own. You’d promised Dallas that you two could try it out as soon as you’d gotten back to his apartment, something that noticeably excited him, his excitement made ever so apparent by the subtle bulge against the denim of his jeans.

If there was one thing you were eternally grateful for when it came to Dallas, it was his nonchalant nature. You’d seen the man trip and bust his ass right outside of a grocery store, only to get up and pick up his cigarette and continue walking off as if nothing had happened - that and he’d done his fair share of voicing his foul-mouthed opinions loud enough for the damn neighbor to hear. In all honesty, you didn’t think he could care what others thought of him. You admired him for it.

It certainly came in handy when he pulled into the semi-vacant parking lot, right outside the store that overtly advertised what it sold indoors. Sex toys; vibrators, dildos, lube - everything you could need and more, and by God did everyone and their grandmother watch as you two exited the car. Dallas smiled over his shoulder, flicking his now-dead cigarette to the asphalt below before snubbing it out with his heel. His arm hooked around your waist, escorting you inside and away from prying eyes.

“Hello!” Sounded an employee from behind the counter, a very kind-looking older woman, someone you wouldn’t have expected to work in such a store. “Do you two need any help?”

Dallas waved her off with a small smile, leading you through the aisles as his eyes drifted over the various items. You could feel yourself flush, despite there being nobody else in the store besides you three, you couldn’t help but feel bashful over it - especially when Dallas loudly laughed as you both passed an aisle that had nothing but pornographic movies. Very, very lewdly labeled pornographic movies.

“Should we get one?” He joked, smiling over at you as he picked up a box, waving it like he’d just scored something worth hundreds of dollars. You scoffed out a laugh, pushing his hand down with a giggled, “Put that away, Dal.”

It didn’t take long to find the aisle that seemed to be dedicated to vibrators, they ranged from all sizes, from pinkie length to nearly a foot. You knew exactly which one you’d come for, the infamous body wand. It was a hefty thing, the box as long as your forearm. Dallas looked over to you, raising his eyebrows as you held the box to your chest.

“You want that one?” He asked, hand reaching behind himself to grab his wallet. You smiled, nodding as you rocked forward onto your toes. He sighed out a laugh, free hand moving to the small of your back as he guided you toward the front of the store.

You’d hardly placed the box down on the front counter before the woman gasped, a bright smile on her face as she rang up your purchase with a hushed, “I’ve sold so many of those! Nearly twenty this week alone!”

The words made you laugh, the two of you exchanging pleasantries until you and Dallas left the store, merchandise hidden in a discreet brown paper bag. As you situated yourself in the passenger side seat, you peeked into the bag, reading over the claims that’d been etched into the side of the box. The reviews alone had you giddy to try it out, thighs clenching together in excitement as Dallas started the car, peeling out of the parking lot less than a second later.

“How’s that thing work anyhow?” Dallas asked, eyebrows furrowed together as he looked between you and the road. You shrugged, freeing the box from the paper bag before twisting the package around, face flushing slightly at the look of the thing.

“Says you plug it in,” you mumbled, eyes squinting as you read the finer print near the edge of the box. “Plug in and enjoy, that’s all it says.”

Dallas choked back a snort at the instructions, eyebrows lifting in both amusement and intrigue as he pulled down his street. It was only four in the afternoon, so Buck’s bar would surely have quite a few people in attendance. It’d never stopped you two before and Buck sure as hell never complained, not that he had any right to, you and Dallas had heard your fair share of Buck’s lady friends he kept well into three in the morning.

The air felt charged around you as Dallas pulled into the half-filled parking lot, his eyes flickering over to you with every chance he could grab. You couldn’t ignore the budding arousal and excitement settling heavy in your stomach, each step toward the bar leaving your legs feeling weak beneath you. Your heart thudded in your chest, hard enough to be felt in your throat as Dallas’s hand pressed against the small of your back, gently guiding you through the bar and toward the back steps.

Neither of you stopped to greet anyone, but luckily for you both everyone was either inebriated or caught up in a game of pool or poker. By the time you reached Dallas’s room, your underwear were slick to your cunt, soaked in your arousal. You kicked your shoes off, tossing the paper bag onto his bed as Dallas closed the door behind you.

“Nervous?” He asked, noticing your jittery behavior as he moved behind you. You huffed, trying to hide your feelings but failing miserably. Dallas only hummed, brushing your hair back from your neck, leaning down a fraction to press delicate kisses along the curve of your throat.

You brought your hand up and behind you, threading your fingers through his thick hair as he kissed and nipped at your neck, his hands working on unbuttoning your jeans. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, giving him full access to your throat as he pushed your jeans down your thighs. You did the rest, kicking the denim to the floor along with your soaked underwear.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, pulling away only to pull your shirt up and over your head, leaving you completely nude while he remained dressed.

You obeyed, hurrying over to his bed as fast as your feet would carry you. The bag sat toward the end of the bed, soon lifted and opened by Dallas who tossed the bag over his shoulder, attention focused solely on the semi-heavy box in his hands. You crossed your legs, shifting your hips in anticipation as he took out the body wand.

You’d been right in the car, there were no other needed instructions besides plugging it in. Dallas gave you a brief smile, moving beside the bed to plug the body wand into the wall outlet. The cord connecting the wand to the outlet was relatively long, long enough for you to use it comfortably on the bed - or for Dallas to use it on you.

He situated himself behind you, helping you to lean back against his chest. His warmth radiated through his clothing, calming you immensely as you settled back against him. The coolness of the body wand startled you as Dallas rested it against your thigh. He didn’t seem intent on using it on you just then.

His hands brushed over your body, fingertips trailing over your stomach, down your hips, and onto your thighs. Each touch was followed by a shiver on your part, your arousal thick enough to leave you shaking, desperate for some form of attention to your eager cunt.

Sensing your desperation, his right hand dipped between your thighs, touch featherlight against your soaked folds. Your hips bucked, a mumbled plea for more leaving you as he grazed his index finger over your clit.

Your plea was not met with mercy, instead, Dallas pulled his hand back, his touch drifting upward to your breasts. His lips met the nape of your neck, kisses slow and methodical as he kneaded your breasts, brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples.

“You can wait,” he whispered.

You weren’t sure you could, your cunt clenched around nothing and dripped cum onto the bedspread beneath you. A heavy pang of need throbbed between your thighs, clit aching with each leisurely touch of his hands, focusing everywhere except where you needed him most.

Just when you thought you’d sob from the torment, his right hand moved back between your thighs, finding your cunt drenched in your juices. You could feel him smile against the nape of your neck, a breathy laugh leaving him as he circled your clit.

The soft pads of his fingers against your clit moved in slow, deliberate circles. His lips were hot, leaving lingering kisses along your throat as your head lulled back against his shoulder, giving yourself over to the ecstasy he gave freely. His free hand continued gently kneading the soft flesh of your breast in tandem with his fingers. His thumb and forefinger gently tweaked your nipple, the other hand busying itself swirling around your clit. Your hips bucked up into his touch, desperate for some form of release as his fingers glistened with your arousal. Instead of relief, he gave you cruelty, removing his fingers from your aching cunt with a click of his tongue against his teeth.

“So desperate,” He cooed, tone ever so condescending. The cruel words went straight to your cunt, leaving you clenching around nothing as he watched on in lust-riddled amazement. Your back arched from his chest, unable to do anything further with the position he’d put you in. Laughter rumbled in his chest, the noise making you pout as your eyes batted open to look at him. He feigned a pout, bringing his hand up to cup your chin with a soft, “Poor thing.”

Only when you felt tears lining your vision did he relent, resuming the same featherlight touches against your throbbing clit. It felt perfect, almost enough to bring you to the brink of an orgasm – but nowhere near enough to push you over the edge. A desperate whine fell from your lips, eyes squeezing shut as you begged yourself not to cry over being fingered – it felt stupid, but in your orgasm-deprived mind you were certain you’d go insane if he didn’t let you cum.

With a kiss against your shoulder, he curled his middle and ring finger into you, fingers meeting no resistance as he pushed them up against a spot within you that had your knees bending, thighs clenching together in a silent plea for him to never remove his fingers from your cunt. You could feel him smile against your skin, his thumb brushing against your clit as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, the lewd sound of your cum coating his fingers echoing throughout the room. He could feel you holding back, the way your eyebrows would scrunch together, how your breath caught in your throat, all for a soft, nearly inaudible whine to fall past your parted lips.

“Let them hear you,” he urged, tone nearly pleading. “Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

Dallas wasn’t one to beg, yet the way he spoke conveyed the desperation he poorly concealed underneath his reserved facade. You could only nod as his tempo increased, fingers slicking in and out of your cunt at a pace that left you delirious. Your head rolled back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as moans fell from you, pleas for him to go faster, harder – neither you were sure you wanted, but you needed him and everything he could give you.

He obliged.

“That’s it,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, placing a chaste kiss on your temple as he pumped his fingers into you. “Can feel you clenching around my fingers, doll.”

His crude words pulled another moan from you, one that caught in your throat as your hips rocked with the thrust of his fingers. His other arm hooked around your waist, keeping you pulled back against him as his hand worked between your legs, expertly bringing you to the cusp of your orgasm. Your thighs began to shake, calves tensing as he pushed his fingers deeper into you, the heel of his palm bumping rhythmically into your clit. Your arm moved up to encircle the back of his neck as you buried your face into his throat, moans and whimpers of his name tumbling past your lips like a broken prayer. Before you could register the feeling, you were coming undone around his fingers, cunt pulsing around the thick digits as your voice broke off into a silent scream. You could feel your cum coating his fingers, gushing out of you and onto the bedsheets below. He whispered words of praise, still fucking his fingers into you throughout the throes of your orgasm, not bothering to slow down an inch until your thighs were twitching against the soaked bedsheets.

Your cunt twitched with oversensitivity as he removed his fingers, bringing the wet digits up to your lips. You took them without objection, breath labored as you sucked them clean. He groaned at the feeling, your tongue laving the underside of his fingers as you stared up at him, expression the picture of fucked out.

He slowly lowered his hand from your face, your lips glistening with saliva and cum. He couldn’t help but lean in, capturing you in a wet kiss as his hips rocked against your ass. The subtle friction pulled a grunt from him, his brows furrowing as his hold around your middle tightened. He could taste you on his tongue as he pulled away.

“Lean forward,” he instructed, words barely audible over his heaving breaths. You obeyed, looking over your shoulder toward him as you bent over a nearby pillow, your hips comfortably resting against the fabric. He moved from behind you, sorting through the bedsheets, cursing under his breath until he found what he’d been looking for. You watched; curiosity peaked as he moved to sit down beside you. He smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead with a hushed, “Can’t let my money go to waste.”

His hand guided your hip up, nestling the head of the vibrator against your cunt, just above your clit. With a kiss on your shoulder, he helped you settle back down against the pillow, pushing the vibrator flush with your skin. The metallic clang of his belt buckle hitting the floor and the subtle sound of his zipper being undone followed. You arched your back, face pushed to the soft bedding beneath you. He hummed at the sight, right hand grasping your hip tight as the other trailed the back of his fingers along your folds, the touch causing your hips to quiver.

His arm looped around your middle, hand fumbling with the base of the wand until it buzzed to life, the sudden vibration pulling a yelp from you as your hips jerked away from the sensation. You’d thought you were no longer sensitive from your previous orgasm, but the vibrator pulled that confidence right out from under you. Dallas only stifled a laugh, his hand moving to the small of your back where he pressed down, forcing you flush with the vibrator. A broken moan fell from your lips as your hands grasped at the tangled bedsheets, knuckles white as the large silicone head of the vibrator shuddered against your clit.

“You’re alright,” Dallas taunted, right hand still steady on your hip as he pumped himself with his left, thumb swiping over his tip. You could hardly focus on the lascivious moans coming from Dallas due to the intense vibration of the body wand. He pushed your legs farther apart with his knee, shifting himself behind you until his thighs were flush with the plush of your ass. He swiped his tip along your folds, gathering your slick cum against himself before stroking it down his shaft.

Your cunt twitched, clenching around nothing in anticipation as he slowly pushed himself into you, easing in each inch. The moan that came from you once he’d bottomed out was near pornographic, with pure relief and ecstasy flooding your veins before he’d even had the chance to rock his hips. You pushed back into him, the movement earning you a groan as he grabbed at your hips, stopping you from moving any further.

“Wait,” he ordered, tone strained. You’d half a mind to disregard his words, but the steady pulse of his cock inside of you rendered you obedient, mindlessly whining into the warm bedsheets as you waited for him to move. Only when your breathing settled did he pull out, slowly pushing himself back in after – repeating those movements until your hips were rutting into the vibrator beneath you.

You could feel your cunt stretching around his cock, desperately trying to accommodate his addictive size as he pushed into you, each thrust being paired with a choked-back grunt from Dallas. His fingers dug into your skin as he quickened his pace, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing throughout his bedroom. His hold on your hips grew tighter with each thrust, effectively keeping you cemented to the bed and the vibrator beneath you.

The tip of his cock pushed against your cervix, leaving you clenching around him whenever he’d pull out, your cum leaving a veneer against his shaft, steadily dripping down his body and onto the bedsheets below. The vibration of the body wand thrummed against your clit, your hands tightening their grasp on the bedsheets as you felt your orgasm building in your lower stomach. Each thrust of his hips left you breathless, the position causing him to hit impossibly deep inside of you.

He could feel you clenching around him, the sound of your moans picking up an octave, your hips involuntarily rutting back to meet his thrusts. His hands moved from your hips to the small of your back, pushing you flush with the pillow and vibrator beneath you as he slammed into you. The pace was brutal, small whines forced from your lungs as he stretched you again and again – hitting that same spot within you that sprung pleasure-fueled tears to your eyes. You were left sobbing into the bedding, hands moving behind you to grasp aimlessly at his body as you came undone around his cock.

“Fuck yes,” he grunted, not slowing his pace in the slightest as you gushed around his cock, soaking the bedsheets along with the pillow beneath you. Your eyes squeezed shut as he fucked you through your orgasm, the pleasure soon giving way to mind-numbing oversensitivity. A low laugh reverberated within his chest at your fucked-out state, his hand moved to cup your jaw as he rutted into you with a groaned, “You take me so good, so fucking good.”

All you could manage was a broken-off moan of his name at the words, cunt squeezing around him. He buried his face into your shoulder, choking back moans of his own as he pumped you full of his cum. You let your head fall forward into the bedding, heavy pants muffled by the sheets, hips lifting yourself away from the persistent vibration of the body wand below you. As if reading your mind, his arm hooked around your stomach, shutting off the body wand a second later before pushing it to the floor. He rested back down against you, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulders and along the nape of your neck, only pulling out when his cock had finally stopped twitching inside of your cunt.

“Did so good,” he whispered, hand smoothing up the curve of your back as he rested back on his knees. “So good, doll.”

You hummed, the best response you could manage in your current state. He chuckled, swatting your ass before moving from the bed. You didn’t bother watching where he went, knowing him well enough to know he’d disappeared into the bathroom. Only a moment had passed before you felt the bed dip beside you, followed by the coolness of a wet washcloth against you as he cleaned you up. Once he’d cleaned himself, he hooked an arm around your middle, pulling your back flush to his chest, his free hand moving up to wipe your damp hair from your face.

“You alright?” He asked, words so quiet you’d hardly heard him. You tilted your head back, meeting his gaze with a tired smile and nod. He returned your smile, pressing a kiss to your temple as you resituated yourself against him.

“Definitely worth it.”

A/N: I had to research 70s sex toys for this. Because if Dallas didn’t have the whole gunshot ordeal he would’ve lived to see the 70s and the rise of sexual liberation - and by golly gee were there a LOT of sex toys. Anyways, I hope you guys liked this one! I don’t write rough smut too often so I hope I did this one good. I appreciate all the love and support you guys show my work, more than you know! You can find all my work over on my AO3 under the user, “Unscriptural.” Thank you again!

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

Text

The Last Ride Chapt. Three (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

series masterlist

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: strained parental relationship, flirting, sexism, 1.8k words

a/n: this my work, do not replicate it. do not repost as your own. this is such a filler chapter y'all but i think we needed some character development

“You have anything else for me today?” I ask Chris as I yank off my work gloves and shove them in my pocket. He shoots me a quick glance over his shoulder before he goes back to unloading the truck.

“Did you fill the watering-”

“Yes.”

“Did you walk the fence to see-”

“Yep. And told Uncle there was a loose spot by the north pasture.”

Chris turns and studies me for a second before his mouth pulls up in the ghost of a smile. “Well, alright then, little miss farmer. You can go.”

“Thank god.” I sigh in relief at having survived my first week and spin to leave before tossing Chris a curt, “Have a good weekend.”

He nods back at me in recognition, opening his mouth like he wants to say something else before apparently thinking better of it and turning back to the truck.

*******************

I can’t believe that I’ve become a person whose most exciting plan on a Friday night is a long bubble bath. But I’m not even mad about it. After a week of chasing down animals and lifting feed, I have muscles aching that I’ve never even felt before. Not even after pilates.

When I’m done soaking away my sorrows, I get dressed and head into my room. But before I can follow through on my plan to sleep for approximately the next 22 hours, my phone begins to ring.

I know before I even look down that it’s my dad and I sigh deeply. I’ve been dodging his calls and texts since I got here, using work as an excuse, but he knows I have weekends off. Flopping onto my bed in defeat, I slide the bar over to answer.

“Yes, Dad?” I try to keep the bitterness out of my voice but the pause in his response tells me I failed.

“Hey, honey. I was just, um, calling to check in on you. How’s the ranch?”

I give a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, it’s great. A dream.”

There’s silence on both of our lines for a few beats as we each wait for the other to give in.

“Look…” Dad starts, his normally strong voice wavering a bit. “I just wanted to tell you…”

I wait as he trails off, hoping he’s about to open the door for us to get over this but he seems to bail out on his original thought.

“... I wanted to ask how you’re doing on cash. There are some cool shops in town. Don’t just rot inside all day while you’re there. Here I’ll transfer something to your card.”

Disappointment floods over me as my bank app notifies me of a deposit. “Cool. Thanks.”

We say an awkward goodbye a few minutes later and I throw my phone on the bedside table. I turn off my lamp and stare up at the ceiling, deep in thought. As I drift off to sleep, I can’t help but wonder if my dad and I will ever have more in common than just money.

*******************

I take his advice and take my uncle’s truck into town to explore. The experience of driving a pickup truck is every bit as humbling as I expected it to be, especially with the loud backfiring. But when I pull into the parking lot for the shopping strip, I see that I fit right in for maybe the first time since I got here.

I step into the first clothing store I see, a cute little boutique with pink cowboy hats in their window. It’s pretty busy when I enter so I stick to browsing the walls, smiling to myself at the section of belts with huge buckles.

I pick up a shirt that says “Say howdy, stay rowdy” intending to take a picture but sit it down when I remember I don’t really have anyone to send it to.

A pretty girl in a camo Chevrolet hat taps me on the shoulder and gives me a friendly smile when I turn. “Hi! Can I help you find anything?”

“No thank you...” I glance down at her nametag and return her smile. “...Abby. I’m just looking.”

She nods and leans in close to whisper. “Girl, I really just came over to say how much I love your purse. It was all over my vision board this year.”

I laugh at this and look down at my Marc Jacobs tote bag. “Do you want it? I hardly ever carry this one.”

Abby’s eyes widen and she shakes her head quickly. “No! I couldn’t-”

“Girl, seriously. It’s no big deal. I open the bag and pull out my wallet and lip gloss, having not even bothered to switch the rest of my belongings over this morning, then hand her the bag.

She takes it slowly as if she’s sure it’s a trick and then beams at me. “Thank you so much! That’s way too sweet.”

We talk for a few more minutes, exchanging socials before her boss comes around the corner and calls for her.

“Ugh.” She groans, rolling her eyes. “Let me get back before he has a cow. Don’t be a stranger, okay? Text me.”

I promise I will and leave the store, hiding a smile.

As I start making my way over to the next boutique, the door to the ice cream shop bursts open and a small girl runs out. She just may be the cutest kid I’ve ever seen in my life with her huge blue eyes and pigtails that curl delicately at the ends. The girl skips my way, her little hand holding a cone, and almost bumps into me. She stops short and smiles up at me sweetly. “Sorry!”

I smile back, squatting down a bit. “No problem, honey. I love your shoes.”

At the compliment, her face brightens up even more, stepping back to show off her cowboy boots better. “Thank you! My brother got them for me. They have my name on the side, look. E-V-I-E. Evie!”

I laugh and nod my head. “Very cool, Evie.”

The ice cream door opens again and a familiar frame steps out. “Little girl, what have I told you about walking away from me?”

I raise my eyebrows as Chris comes over and places a hand on Evie’s head. Without my permission, my eyes trail themselves over Chris' outfit, taking in the rare sight of him out of work clothes. Somehow he looks even better than usual in his simple white tee tucked into his jeans, a gold chain hanging casually around his neck. He’s got a cowboy hat in his hand and he pulls it on, adjusting it as he looks up and finally notices me. His brow furrows in confusion as he looks between the two of us. “Scotch?”

I wave awkwardly and smile. “Hi.”

Evie looks up at me blinking slowly. “Your name is Scotch?”

“Y/N.” Chris and I say in unison, making heat creep up my skin.

“This is Mr. Buck’s niece, remember?” He adds, looking down at Evie who nods. With them standing next to each other, the resemblance is striking and I can't believe I didn't make the connection immediately. His eyes dilate with love when he looks at her and I can't help but grin at their sweet bond.

Chris looks back over and me and raises his brow, reaching out and tugging my sleeve. “Ain’t it a little hot for this?”

I scoff and gesture down at myself, smoothing a hand over my faux leather jacket. "You do what you must for the look,” I say with fake cockiness and he laughs. “Why are you always hating on my style?”

He grins, clicking his tongue. “Believe me, Scotch, the last thing i'm doing is hating.” I raise an eyebrow and he adds a quick, “I mean, it don’t make me no nevermind is all.”

My lips pull up in a smirk and the moment stretches on for a bit too long as he holds my eye contact until Evie taps her foot and interrupts. “Why are you looking at her so funny, bubba?”

We snap out of it and look down, Chris giving her a confused look. “What are you on about?”

“Like your eyes are sparkling. It’s weird-”

“Okay! We gotta go. Let’s have a little chat about strangers on the way.” Chris cuts in, taking her hand to lead her away. “See you Monday, Scotch.”

“See you.”

“Bye Y/N!” Evie yells over her shoulder. She turns back to Chris lowering her voice only slightly. “You’re right. She is pretty.”

“Shh-”

Oh wow. My heart does something funny but I ignore it and cross the street, deciding to head back home. As I walk past a group of boys my age, someone lets out a low wolf whistle and I turn in disgust.

A boy with the greasiest mullet the world has ever seen runs over from his group of friends and starts walking backward beside me.

“Well, damn girl. You gotta be the finest thing on this side of the Mason-Dixon. Where they been hiding you at?”

“Jesus. Does that usually work for you?” I say, picking up my pace a bit. He grins, clearly taking my tone as a challenge, and steps into my path so I stop walking. “Get out of my way.”

“Oh c’mon on, darlin’. They don’t let y’all smile in the big city?” The boy flashes me what I’m sure he thinks is a sly smile and leans in closer, running his eyes down my body. “Let a country boy give you a reason to.”

I scoff and cross my arms, opening my mouth to give him hell, when Chris appears behind him and claps a rough hand on his shoulder.

“How about you take a few steps back, man?” Chris suggests, setting his jaw around his toothpick and giving the boy a dark look from under the brim of his hat.

He seems to wilt immediately under Chris’ gaze, cutting his eyes from his to mine. “My bad, bro. Is this you?”

I narrow my eyes, annoyed that the only thing stopping him from harassing me is another man. “Or maybe I’m just a girl who isn’t interested?”

Chris lets the boy go, stepping closer to my side. “You heard the boss, Mason. Why don’t you go mack on your girlfriend?”

He smacks his lips and puts his hands up. “Whatever man. I was just being nice. She ain’t even all-”

Chris levels him with a dangerous stare and he snaps his mouth shut. “Watch your mouth.”

Mason rolls his shoulders back in forced nonchalance and heads back over to his boys who yell out taunts and ooos.

“I could have handled it,” I say stubbornly, looking over Chris’ shoulder and noticing Evie waiting a few feet away.

“I know you could have.” He replies without hesitation. “I don’t think there’s much you can’t handle.”

He doesn’t wait for my response, spinning on his heel and heading back to his sister. I stand there and watch them fade down the street, forcing down a smile as my understanding of who Chris is shifts in my mind.

🏷️/ @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper

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mycurrent-hyperfixation · 2 years

Text

The Pizza Girl: Eddie Munson x Reader (One-Shot)

Summary: Surfer Boy Pizza’s expansion into Hawkins brings delicious delivered pizzas to Eddie Munon’s front door. It apparently also brings a very attractive delivery driver that might also happen to be Eddie’s past crush.

Masterlist

Word Count: 5.5k

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader

Tags: fluff

A/N: The stage of grief I am currently in after watching vol. 2 is denial so Eddie shall live on in all my fics. This takes place after vol. 2 where everyone is HAPPY and SAFE and ALIVE and I will hear no criticisms cause idc. Go check out my last fic The Record Store cause I’m still completely obsessed with it and more people need to read it. Also big shoutout to @alicetweven for being the first person to ask to be on the taglist. Thanks for the support lovely. If anyone else wants to be on it lmk. Enjoy!

Surfer Boy Pizza’s conquest across America reached Indiana in the summer of 1986. 

Whilst such an expansion was expected, their latest branch in the small town of Hawkins was viewed as quite the unfavourable choice of location. Hawkins was quiet, Hawkins was quaint, and the last time a major conglomerate chose Hawkins to expand, it ended in a mall fire.  

Eddie Munson, however, was simply happy to be able to order pizza delivered to the trailer park.  

The day was hot; so painstakingly hot that Eddie could not quite fathom wearing clothes. He wore his swimming shorts partly for modesty—he did have guests over after all—and partly because Dustin and Lucas had managed to find a small paddling pool that he was currently lazing within. He barely fit, his legs hanging predominantly over the side, but the contraption at least succeeded in cooling him down. 

“Shove over, Munson. I’m melting out here,” Dustin whined.

Eddie opened his eyes and glanced at Dustin over the rim of his sunglasses.  

“Patience is a virtue, little Henderson,” Eddie responded before closing his eyes once more, laying his head back against the plastic rim. 

Dustin, unsatisfied, simply forced his way into the pool, shoving Eddie to the side until he practically fell out. Water spilled over the rim as Eddie steadied himself before turning to glare at Dustin.

“I’m hungry,” Mike whined from the shade of Eddie’s trailer porch. The younger boy seemed to burn so easily that it was simply common sense to slather him in sunscreen, wrap him in a towel and confine him to the limits of the shade.  

“That sounds like a you problem, Wheeler,” Eddie lazily mumbled. 

“We should get pizza!” Lucas exclaimed. 

“Yes!” Max agreed. 

“With who’s money?” Eddie questioned. 

“Well, you do owe me $20,” Dustin said. 

“Since when?” 

“Since you bet that I couldn’t roll two twenties in a row last week at hellfire.” 

Eddie, remembering the event, groaned dramatically.  

“I told you not to doubt my skills,” Dustin added. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. You’re ordering though.”

“Lucas, go inside and order,” Dustin said. 

“Why do I have to do it?” 

“Because I’m wet.” 

Lucas groaned before begrudgingly getting up from the lawn chair he had been lazing within and made his way inside.  

“No pineapple,” Mike ordered as Lucas passed him on the porch. 

“No more than two pizzas!” Eddie hastily called. “And get me something with a lot of meat on it.” 

As Lucas disappeared into the trailer, Eddie laid back within the paddling pool and sighed. He could feel the skin on his face growing hot but he could not quite bring himself to get up and apply more sunscreen. He wasn’t quite sure when Lucas came back nor how much time had passed since he ordered. The sun was causing his eyes to feel droopy and his breathing to become deeper, the cool touch of the water around him lapping against his skin. He was quite certain that at some point during his relaxation he must have fallen asleep, for one moment the sun was blaring against his eyelids, and the next they were shrouded in shadow. Eddie opened his eyes slowly.

Eddie told himself that the sudden scream that erupted from his mouth was purely because he had not expected to see you. Or perhaps it was because the last of his morning joint was wearing off and it was making him jittery. Either way the interaction was wholeheartedly embarrassing as he leapt upwards, greatly disturbing the water in the pool so that soon Dustin was screaming as Eddie drenched him in the water that flew from his body. 

Eddie couldn’t tell why he was panting as he looked down at you, nor could he tell which one of the boys was snickering at him. But he could not dwell on the thought, for you were standing before him in your Surfer Boy shirt and your Surfer Boy visor and some denim shorts that gave Eddie an unobstructed view of your legs.

“I have a pizza for Munson,” you said with a smile that Eddie so very wished was not at his expense.

“Y-yes, that’s me!” Eddie hastily spoke, stepping out of the paddling pool so that he was standing before you. For just a second, he thought he saw your gaze flick down his chest, but then your eyes were looking into his once more and he dispelled the idea from his mind.

“Great,” you continued. “It’s just the Meatlovers and the Hawaiian-”

“Lucas! I said no pineapple!” Mike interjected.

“It is delicious and I’m going to make you see that,” Lucas calmly responded.

“Fruit on pizza is simply wrong and-” Mike continued.

Eddie sighed as he turned his attention back to you.

“Sorry about them,” he said, flashing a smile at you.

You smiled back brightly. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen this debate play out many times.”

“Oh?” Eddie said, quirking an eyebrow. “So what’s the verdict?”

The arguing of the boys grew louder so Eddie leaned closer to you so as to make his words clearer. A heat grew steadily up your cheeks and you hoped that the summer sun would disguise it.

“If it’s on the pizza I’ll eat it but I’m not going out of my way to have it,” you shrugged, trying to act nonchalant.

Eddie smirked. “Looks like we’re on opposite sides of this debate then.”

“Is that so?” you smirked back.

“A pizza should not be tarnished by something so colourful. Even vegetables are a stretch sometimes.”

You let out a laugh and Eddie couldn’t help but smile at it. The boys, their argument having slowly dwindled away, turned their attention to you and Eddie.

“So I take it the Meatlovers is for you then?”

Eddie leaned ever so slightly closer until he was practically towering above you. “Would you like a slice?”

You smirked back, unwilling to pull away even as your heart began to race.

“We at Surfer Boy Pizza pride ourselves on the best customer service,” you said in a tone you usually reserved for more uptight customers. “I don’t think they’d appreciate me taking a slice of someone’s pizza.”

Eddie leaned down now so that he was whispering in your ear.

“They don’t have to know.”

Eddie thought for just a moment that maybe leaning so close to you was a bad idea. For surely at this proximity you were bound to be able to hear how hard his heart was thundering against his chest or were sure to notice the way his hands were shaking slightly. He could smell your perfume this close, he realised, something sweet and smoky and wholeheartedly intoxicating.

“Even if I wanted to, Munson,” you paused, smirking up as Eddie pulled away slightly to look at you. “Barbeque sauce is disgusting.”

Eddie couldn’t quite help the strangled gasp that escaped from his throat, his hand flying to his chest in shock as he flung himself dramatically back from you. A large smile spread across your lips as you tried to stifle a laugh.

“Blasphemy!” Eddie cried so loudly that a couple who were lounging outside their caravan several lots away looked over in concern. “Guys, she must be a witch. We’ll have to burn her at the stake.”

The laugh that you were stifling finally erupted from your throat; so sincere, so genuine and so breathtakingly beautiful that Eddie felt the air suddenly leave his lungs as he simply looked at you. Your hair was tied up, most of it swept back by your Surfer Boy visor, yet with a few strands having come loose to frame your face elegantly. The sun, which now hung lower in the sky, cast a warm glow across your skin that had Eddie itching to reach out and brush his hand along the curve of your jaw.

“Well that’ll be $15.50,” you spoke up, your brows slightly furrowed at Eddie’s change in demeanour.

“Oh, r-right,” Eddie stuttered, a deep blush coming up to cover his cheeks. “Lucas could you run inside and grab my wallet?”

“What am I? The butler?” Lucas groaned as he begrudgingly got up from his lounge chair once more.

“So, Eddie, how’s life now that you’re graduated?”

Eddie’s gaze shot up towards you, his brows furrowing deeply.

“You-” he hesitated. “You remember me?”

“Of course I do,” you said, your voice so serious and so sincere that Eddie’s breath hitched within his throat. “Do you remember me?”

Eddie let out a scoff in surprise. “Are you serious?

Eddie could not quite fathom the question. You; who was known around Hawkins as one of the nicest people. You; who was friends with everyone. You; who had never once called Eddie Munson a freak, who had never once not looked upon him and smiled, who had—many times before—defended him and those like him against rude comments and mean statements.

You; quite possibly the most beautiful person Eddie had ever seen.

“How could I forget you? You were like the knight in shining armour that defended us freaks.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” you responded instantly.

Eddie opened his mouth to respond but before he could utter any words something hard collided with his chest. He reached out instinctively to catch it as it fell, only to find his wallet clutched within his hands. He looked up and glared at Lucas who at least had the decency to look slightly apologetic.

Eddie pulled out $20 and held it out towards you. The transaction was awkward as you tried to take the money from him whilst also passing him the pizzas which had begun to grow cold in your hands. In the end Eddie made contact with your arm twice and your hand three times, each touch causing his heart to jump just a little.

When the transaction was complete the two of you continued to stand, neither quite knowing what to say.

“You...uh,” Eddie hesitated, casting his gaze to the ground. “You can keep the change…for your tip.”

“Thanks,” you said.

There it was, your smile was back.

“Well I should probably head out. I’ve got other deliveries to make,” you said after a long silence had lingered between the two of you.

“Y-yeah, of course! Don’t let me keep you.”

You smiled up at him.

“Don’t be a stranger, Munson.”

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat.

And then you were walking away and Eddie couldn’t quite seem to quell the disappointment he felt at the sight of it. He watched on as you hopped back into your car, wasting no time in turning the key in the ignition. Before you left however, you turned to face Eddie one last time to flash him a smile and to offer him a wave. Eddie, wishing his hands were not full of pizzas, was unable to wave back but smiled nonetheless.

And then even when your car had retreated down the road, even when he could no longer see your figure in the front seat, he could not quite seem to bring himself back to reality.

“How could I forget you?” Mike mocked as Lucas and Dustin burst out laughing.

Eddie turned to them, a violent blush creeping onto his features as he scowled at the boys.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, throwing the pizzas down onto the porch of the trailer.

“Wait was that Y/N L/N?” Dustin questioned.

“Yeah,” Eddie said back cautiously.

“The Y/N L/N that you had a huge crush on last year?” Dustin added, a wicked smile creeping onto his features.

“Shut up.”

“You should have asked her out,” Max said.

“Yeah I think she was kinda into whatever version of flirting you were doing,” Lucas added.

“I was not flirting.”

“Well whatever it was,” Dustin said. “You did make her laugh a lot.”

“That, dear Henderson, is because I’m hilarious,” Eddie responded, a smile curling his lips upwards. He turned his attention back to Lucas. “And she was working, Sinclair. She’s probably that nice to all of her customers.”

“We should order something else!” Max blurted out. “You know, to make her come back.”

“Why? So Eddie can scream again when he sees her?” Mike responded.

Eddie glared at him.

“Just pass me a goddamn slice.”

---

Eddie and his uncle did not often receive phone calls at their trailer.

That was at least what Eddie told himself as a way to justify how much he jumped at the sound of the phone ringing. With a sigh, he unfolded himself from his comfortable position on the couch and made his way over to the landline.

“Hello?”

“Eddie!” Dustin screamed excitedly so that Eddie had to pull the phone hastily away from his ear. “Good, you’re home.”

“Where else would I be?” Eddie questioned, and then before Dustin could answer, asked suspiciously, “Why do you care?”

“N-no reason,” Dustin stammered. “Have you seen Y/N again yet?”

Eddie furrowed his brows at the question.

“Where on earth would I have seen her?”

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you had manned up and went to ask her out.”

Eddie sighed, bringing one hand up to rub at his eyes.

“Did you seriously call me just for this?”

Eddie could hear something being mumbled, as if someone were far away from the phone.

“Who are you with?” Eddie asked suspiciously.

“N-no one!” Dustin hastily replied. “I gotta go, Eddie. My, ugh, my mom’s calling me.”

“Wait, but-”

Dustin hung up.

Eddie groaned and put the phone back on the receiver slightly harder than was strictly necessary. He reclaimed his seat upon the couch and turned the movie he had been watching back on.

As the movie progressed, Eddie could feel the lids of his eyes growing heavier. He struggled to force them back open every time they closed, trying to concentrate back on the television but failing miserably. Eddie’s eyes closed once more and this time he did not fight to open them. Instead, he let his head fall comfortably onto the pillow behind him as his breathing grew deeper.

Eddie practically jumped out of his skin as a loud knock resounded throughout the trailer. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, his breaths ragged as he brought one hand up to rub at his face in an attempt to wake himself up more.

“Dustin!” Eddie shouted as he hauled himself back off the couch. He made his way begrudgingly to the door. “I swear to god if you’ve come to give me more cryptic messages, I’ll-”

Eddie closed his mouth swiftly as he opened his front door to find you standing on his porch, the lights from inside his trailer the only thing illuminating you within his doorway.

“Pizza for Munson,” you said with a smile, your brows slightly furrowed at Eddie’s shocked expression.

For some time, Eddie could not quite bring himself to speak. His heart was racing once more, but it was no longer from shock or anger. He knew in that moment that he must look ghastly; hair mused from sleep, pyjama pants topped with his hellfire shirt. But your expression did not shift from a smile, and for that Eddie was immensely grateful.

Finally, Eddie thought it quite pertinent that he should say something.

“I, ugh,” he stammered, trying to collect his thoughts. “I didn’t order a pizza.”

The smile dropped from your features as you furrowed your brows deeper.

“No, I swear it’s for this address.”

You hastily opened the bag that held the pizzas inside and ruffled around for the slip of paper that contained the order. Once having found it, you scanned its contents hastily.

“Ha!” you said triumphantly. “One pizza for Eddie Munson at the Forest Hills Trailer Park.”

You turned the docket around so that Eddie could read it. Eddie leant forward, squinting in the darkness.

“Hmmm,” Eddie hummed. “It would appear you’re right. Maybe I’ve started ordering pizzas in my sleep.”

You tilted your head back as you let out a laugh. Eddie’s heart skipped slightly at the sight of it.

“I can take it back if you don’t want it,” you said.

“Woah-woah-woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Eddie hastily said. “What kind of pizza is it?” Eddie leaned forwards even further, trying to pry open the lid of the bag that you still held upon your hip. You pulled it away.

“Nope. You’ll have to pay first,” you said back with a smile.

“Is it Surfer Boy Pizza protocol to withhold critical information from a customer?” Eddie said, smirking as he leaned over you.

“I don’t think the protocol covers sleep-ordering pizzas.”

Eddie couldn’t quite stop the laugh that erupted from him. When he looked down upon you once more, his smile grew slightly wider at the sight of your cheeky grin.

“Well, you’ve intrigued me now. Let me grab my wallet.”

Eddie turned around but hesitated before he disappeared through the door. He looked over his shoulder at you, not quite trusting himself to turn back around lest you see the small blush that was creeping onto his features.

“You can, ugh,” Eddie hesitated. “You can come in if you want. You’ll melt out here and I’ve got a fan going so it’s a bit cooler inside.”

You smiled up at Eddie’s figure in the doorway.

“Okay,” you said before traversing the porch and following Eddie inside.

Eddie had initially thought the invitation to be a good idea—a great one even—for it would succeed in prolonging his interaction with you. But upon re-entering his home he quickly came to the realisation that he had in no way prepared his trailer for the presence of a guest. The small table that sat in front of the television was littered with glasses and plates, the dishes in the sink balanced precariously high.

And yet although he wholeheartedly regretted his decision to invite you in, his stomach twisting in embarrassment, when Eddie turned back around to apologise for the mess he found you simply staring right back at him, a beautiful smile spread across your lips. His breath hitched in his throat, and for just a moment he forgot what exactly he was meant to be doing.

“Wallet?” you questioned with a smile after Eddie had lingered confusedly for several seconds.

“Wallet!” he exclaimed, his blush deepening. “Right, sorry.”

You watched on as Eddie scrambled around the trailer in search of his wallet, a soft smile encompassing your features. After Eddie had reappeared from his bedroom for the third time with no success, he quickly stuttered, “Y-you, ah, you can take a seat if you like. Sorry. I swear I left it in my jeans but it’s not there.”

Eddie promptly disappeared back into his bedroom as you took a tentative seat upon the couch. You sunk in further than you expected, surprised at how comfortable the furniture was. It smelt vaguely of smoke mingled in with whatever cologne Eddie wore and it altogether had you feeling quite tired. You leant your head back and closed your eyes briefly.

Eddie was quite certain that his wallet had been in the jeans he had unceremoniously thrown on the floor that afternoon. But after checking the pockets—and every other pair of pockets in every other pair of jeans upon the floor—he felt like groaning in annoyance. He checked his bedside table, his chest of drawers, and the pockets of his leather jacket. He checked under his bed and in every drawer and even in his drug box. Lastly—partly because it was the only place yet to check and partly because he felt like throwing something—Eddie violently shoved his bedsheet up and off his bed. His head perked up when something thudded against the floor.

Just as Eddie’s eyes came to land upon his wallet which had been flung near the door and just as he was about to yell in triumph, he looked up to where he could partly see you sitting upon the couch. Slowly, he made his way towards the door, absentmindedly bending down to pick his wallet up on the way, before coming to stop in the doorway.

Eddie couldn’t quite help the smile that spread across his features at the sight of you; eyes closed, breathing soft. Your hair was tied up again today although this time you were missing the visor. It was slightly messy, stray strands falling out in places where you had been too lazy to fix it. And even though there were bags under your eyes, even though your cheeks were slightly sunburnt from so many deliveries throughout the sunny day, Eddie’s heart still skipped a beat at the sight of you.

“Long day?” Eddie questioned from the doorway of his bedroom.

Your eyes flew open as you rushed to stand up.

“Sorry!” you blurted out.

“No, no!” Eddie hastened to say. “It’s fine. Really. Make yourself at home.”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s so weird. I’m here to deliver your pizza not nearly fall asleep on your couch!” you began to ramble.

“Y/N,” Eddie closed the distance between you, bringing his hands up to rest upon your shoulders. You turned your gaze to look at him. “It’s fine.”

You opened your mouth to say something before seeing the look on Eddie’s face and hesitatingly closing it once more. You continued to stare up at him, seemingly unable to tear your gaze away from his. It was only when Eddie’s hand outstretched towards you that you finally looked down. He was holding a $10 note.

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Right.” You took the cash from his hand.

“So do I finally get to know what it is that I apparently ordered?” Eddie asked with a smirk, easing some of the tension from your body.

“I didn’t tell you before because I knew you wouldn’t pay if you knew what it was,” you responded, unable to stop your own smile that spread across your lips.

“No,” Eddie said, his smile fading, his face suddenly scared. “Please don’t tell me it’s-”

Eddie bent down to extract the pizza from the bag, instantly flipping the lid of the box up. He let out a dramatic groan.

“Not Hawaiian!”

Your smile grew wider.

“I did think the order was odd when it came through.”

“You should have known me better, L/N,” Eddie said turning his attention back to you as he placed the pizza upon the coffee table. “You should have known that I was obviously being held against my will and to call the police immediately since someone was impersonating me.”

You tilted your head back and laughed.

“Next time you order anything with even a vegetable on it I’ll be sure to bring in the military.”

Eddie leaned in with smirk. “Good girl.”

He wasn’t too sure why he said it nor when he had actually made the decision to do so. It was as if the words fell from his mouth of their own volition, lingering in the air between you, echoing relentlessly around the room. A violent blush crept up to Eddie’s features and yet he did not turn away. For just a moment he thought he saw a similar heat appear upon your cheeks. You were close now, closer than you had realised as Eddie looked down upon you. A silence engulfed the two of you; so thick and palpable in the air that it made it hard to breathe.

“I should...ugh,” you practically whispered. “I should leave you to your pizza.”

“You should, um,” Eddie breathed back. “You should stay. Help me eat this monstrosity.”

Neither of you moved as Eddie waited with bated breath for your response. When it was not provided instantly, Eddie couldn’t quite help the pit of disappointment that erupted within his stomach. He turned his head away.

“But you probably have to get back to work. Sorry, that was a stupid suggestion.”

“No,” you hastily responded. “No,” you said again, slower this time, “You were my last delivery of the night...so...I’ve got time.”

Eddie tried to stop the smile that threatened to erupt onto his features. He did not succeed. Unceremoniously and quite ungracefully, Eddie threw himself backwards onto the couch. The sudden movement startled you slightly until you couldn’t help but laugh at the boy before you. Eddie patted the spot on the couch next to him encouragingly.

“Great! I need someone to help me pick off the pineapple anyway.”

You laughed slightly as you took the seat next to Eddie, misjudging the distance between the armrest and the boy so that your leg brushed against his. However, you did not move away.

“I will do no such thing,” you said as Eddie leaned forward to swivel the box before you, opening the lid with a flick of his wrist.

“So I offer you half my pizza and you won’t even help me make it edible?” Eddie said, turning back to look at you with a smile.

“Nope,” you responded with a smirk before leaning forward, extracting a slice from the box and shoving practically half of it into your mouth, pineapple and all. You were quite certain that you looked wholeheartedly unattractive in that moment—your mouth full, a stray sliver of sauce adorning your upper lip—but you could not quite bring yourself to care as Eddie scoffed at you with a smile.

“That’s disgusting,” Eddie said, and upon seeing your face drop slightly, hastily added, “I shall be removing the pineapple like a civilised person.”

Your smile returned and Eddie let out a small breath of relief. He turned back to the pizza and began slowly picking off each piece of pineapple, flicking them onto the cardboard.

“Says the person who likes barbeque sauce.”

“I refuse to respond to that, witch.”

A laugh erupted from your lips. When his half of the pizza was finally free of pineapple, Eddie removed a slice and brought it up to his lips. A silence sat between you as you ate. It was comfortable, you realised, being here with him like this.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” Eddie said after he had finished his slice.

“For what? Room temperature pizza?”

“No,” he said, chuckling slightly. “For high school. For...I don’t know...treating me like a human being.”

“You shouldn’t thank me for that, Eddie,” you said, the smile faltering from your features. “That’s like the bare minimum for being a decent person.”

“Well, I want to,” Eddie said back, his voice softer now as he turned on the couch to face you. “It made a difference to me and...well, I just wanted you to know that.”

“I should have done more then,” you said, mirroring Eddie’s movements so that the two of you now faced each other. His arm came up to rest on the back of the couch beside you, making him inch slightly closer. “I think we would have been good friends if I’d tried harder.”

“I always wanted to talk to you more,” Eddie breathed out. “I just never worked up the courage.”

Eddie wasn’t quite sure which one of you had inched closer, nor did he particularly care, too consumed in your scent and the way your leg was resting next to his. He was unable to bring his racing heart under control as he dug one hand into his lap to stop you from seeing how badly he was shaking.

“Was I that scary?” you responded with a smile.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie smirked back. “The scariest.”

“I never once thought that about you, you know?” you said, practically breathless.

“Is that so?”

“I always thought that behind all the hair and the rings and the satanic worshipping-”

Eddie barked out a laugh.

“I always thought you were a big softy deep down.”

Eddie looked upon you now with something very close to adoration. In that moment he was sure that he had never been seen so clearly by anyone before.

And because he was quite certain that you could read his mind anyway, he breathed out, “I always thought you were...perfect.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your lips were inches from Eddie’s now so that you could feel his breath brush against your nose, his scent lingering all around you. It was like the two of you were suspended in time, neither of you closing the small distance that still remained between you. Your gaze looked up from Eddie’s lips to find him staring right back at you, something dark lingering behind his eyes.

And because Eddie had spent so very long staring at you from afar and because he could not quite believe that you were sitting so close before him, he decided it was time that he did not run away for once. He was quite certain that the two of you would linger in your created limbo all night if he did not do anything, and the thought oddly terrified him.

When he leaned forwards, it was slowly, partly because he was half expecting you to pull away and partly because he simply could not bring himself to go any faster. When his lips brushed against yours, the touch was so soft and so fleeting that at first he thought he might have dreamt it. But then you were kissing him back and it was firmer, more solid, more real. You brought your hands up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. Eddie brought his hand that had been resting on the back of the couch up to graze along your jaw, his other hand coming to rest at your waist, itching to pull you into him.

And then he could taste you, but whether it was because he had deepened the kiss or you had, he couldn’t quite tell nor did he particularly care. You tasted so heavenly that he thought in that moment that he would never taste anything so delicious ever again. There was the saltiness of the dough, the flavour of the sauce, and just faintly, the sweetness of the pineapple which was surprisingly a very welcomed addition. Not that he would ever admit that.

You were so soft and so warm and so breathtakingly beautiful that Eddie thought if he were to wake up from a dream he would not altogether be surprised. You seemed to fit so well against him, your scent intoxicating as you consumed each other.

And then you were pulling away, panting heavily, and Eddie had to refrain himself from chasing your lips. He kept his eyes closed for just a little while longer, revelling in the memory of your lips against his. When he reopened them, he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his features at the sight of you—still there, still real—before him.

“You thought I was perfect?” you said.

Eddie furrowed his brows. “What?”

“That’s in the past tense. You don’t think it anymore?”

He could tell that you were joking, a lazy grin spread across your features.

“Well I’ve come to learn some crucial information about your opinions on barbeque sauce which are a bit of a red flag if I’m hones-”

You connected your lips to his once more, just briefly.

“I might be able to overlook that though,” Eddie whispered.

A silence lingered between you.

“I have to get back to the store before we close,” you said, smiling softly up at him as you stood up from the couch slowly.

“Can I see you again?” Eddie asked as he walked you to the door.

“I’d like that.”

You lingered on the porch as Eddie leant against the doorframe, glancing down at you with a soft smile. Turning back around, you quickly stood on the tips of your toes to connect your lips to Eddie’s one last time. He unfolded his arms and placed them firmly upon your waist, pulling you subconsciously closer towards him.

“Maybe it’s not such a bad thing you order pizzas in your sleep,” you said with a smile.

“Oh, I’m certain I didn’t order that pizza.” Eddie turned his gaze upwards to look at the trailer that sat across the dirt road. Four heads and one pair of binoculars stared at him through the open window, all four of them quickly scrambling away as Eddie looked up. “But I have a feeling I know who did.”

“Well thank them for me,” you responded.

Eddie didn’t take his eyes off of you as you descended the steps of his porch and headed to your car. His breath hitched slightly at the smile you flashed him before you drove away. It was only when your car had crested the small hill and disappeared that he finally moved, making his way down the porch steps and crossing the dirt road that separated his trailer from Max Mayfield’s.

The door was open when he tried it as he instantly burst into the trailer. Four kids ducked for cover behind the couch. Eddie chased them, his hands coming to rest upon the shirt of the curly-haired one.

“Don’t kill me!” Dustin screamed.

“Hawaiian?! Really?!”

Taglist: @alicetweven

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #season 4 stranger things #dustin henderson #max mayfield #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #joseph quinn #Joe Quinn #Eddie Munson fluff

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returnsandreturns · 7 months

Text

they get high and also honest

(i don't KNOW where aziraphale read about shotgunning but it had to happen. also maybe continue on and put this on ao3?)

“It was wonderful to see Adam again, wasn’t it?” Aziraphale says.

“Mmm, yes,” Crowley says, unenthusiastically. “Did you understand a word he said?”

“Oh, not a word,” Aziraphale breathes, relieved.

“He’s just a kid,” Crowley says, then laughs, surprising himself. “That’s kind of–nice, actually. After everything.”

“It is nice,” Aziraphale says, smiling before he walks past him to lock the door to the shop. “Although, he’s really a teenager more than a kid. The smell alone.”

“Smell of hormones,” Crowley says, “and energy drinks and Snapchat and–”

“Marijuana,” Aziraphale says, surprised, and Crowley turns to see him bent down and picking up a small plastic bag folded in half. “I thought I recognized the smell.”

“Why did you recognize it?” Crowley asks, squinting at him, gasping when Aziraphale looks nothing but coy. "Have you partaken, angel?"

“. . .you know that period in the seventies where we didn’t really speak much?” Aziraphale asks, apparently waiting for Crowley’s hesitant nod before he goes on. “I spent quite a lot of it. . .thinking. And smoking, on occasion. Medicinally."

“For what ailment?” Crowley asks, laughing.

“Spot of depression,” Aziraphale says, simply, no emotions on his face besides a small and, frankly, suspicious smile.

“Why were you depressed?” Crowley asks, with every emotion visible on his face, probably. He might not have been the best person to turn to in the event of an emotional crisis but he would have tried. Things got strange and tense after the holy water–perhaps, more specifically, after Aziraphale gently turned him down when he didn’t even know what he was asking for. He wanted to give him his space. Slow down.

In 1972, he bought the newest Bowie album and fell asleep to Starman playing in the background. He woke up two years later, paced up and down Aziraphale’s street fifty times, caught eyes with him through the window for just a moment before he ran off. He bought a copy of Diamond Dogs from the record store nearby then went back to his flat and slept for the majority of the decade.

Aziraphale wrinkles his nose, stares somewhere over Crowley’s shoulder for a long moment before he meets his eyes and says, softly, “We didn’t speak at all that decade, did we?”

“We had lunch once,” Crowley says, feeling like his heart is entirely too aware of this whole situation, wanting to touch him but not sure where, “in 1972.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale says, after a beat, like he’s remembering how painfully awkward it was just trying to be whatever their brand of normal was. “Would you–would you like to smoke with me, perhaps? It would be wrong to give it back to Adam and encourage the behavior. But it's. . .also wrong to let it go to waste, don’t you think?”

“For the record, this is not what I expected to happen today,” Crowley says, smiling, “but sure, angel. Let’s smoke, I guess.”

***

When they’re upstairs, Aziraphale makes sure that the smoke will not penetrate anything to reach the books downstairs or leave a lingering smell, sitting Crowley down on the small sofa to watch as he digs around and eventually pulls out a delicate looking glass pipe. It looks brand new, no burns at all, milky white with pale blue flowers painted on it.

Aziraphale is silent as he neatly packs the pipe and barely rubs his thumb over the rim of it to light it.

“For you,” he says, offering it to Crowley before sitting next to him, just an inch or two between them.

Crowley coughs as soon as he takes a hit, turning into a laugh when he sees Aziraphale watching him kind of smugly.

“Don’t judge me, angel,” he says, handing him the pipe. “I’ve hardly done this. Apparently been living a pure and righteous existence compared to you."

“And God said, behold,” Aziraphale says, solemnly, “I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the–”

“Oh, don’t quote Genesis at me, you bastard,” Crowley says, nudging him gently. “I was there.”

Aziraphale takes a hit and Crowley watches every godforsaken second of it, allowing himself the indiscretion given the context, taking in the sight of the pipe parting Aziraphale’s lips and his eye fluttering shut and the long lingering moment of peace before he slowly blows the smoke out.

“You’re, uh,” Crowley says, faintly. “You’re good at that.”

“How so?” Aziraphale asks, happily.

“Well, you look good,” Crowley clarifies, freezing until Aziraphale blushes and looks even more pleased with himself. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You need to take it slower, I think,” Aziraphale says, relighting it and biting his lip for a distracting moment before he asks, “May I?” and lifts the pipe to Crowley’s mouth.

“. . .uh huh,” Crowley says, shocked at Aziraphale’s soft fingers touching his jaw to keep him still but immediately listening when he tells him to breathe in slowly and tells him when to stop.

“Hold it in,” Aziraphale says, softly, setting the pipe carefully on the table before resting a hand on Crowley’s chest like he wants to feel his breathing. “Now breathe out, dear.”

It’s definitely smoother.

“There you are,” Aziraphale says, satisfied.

“Here I am,” Crowley says, thoroughly shaken.

***

Crowley manages to get Aziraphale to do it one more time, just to be safe, before he takes a hit on his own and already feels like he’s melting into the sofa, staring shamelessly when Aziraphale shifts forward to pull off his jacket and waistcoat.

Aziraphile slowly rolls up his sleeves and unbuttons exactly one button.

"A bit stifled," he says, sitting back again, leaning against Crowley heavily.

"Sure," Crowley says, swallowing hard. "Am I meant to be feeling it much yet?"

"It may take some time," Aziraphale says, smiling sideways at him. "How are you feeling now?"

"Good," Crowley says, smiling back because he can't help himself. "Very good."

***

"You did not," Crowley says, grinning.

"I did," Aziraphale says, laughing. "And I was never welcome at Buckingham Palace again."

"You fascinate me," Crowley says, without a hint of sarcasm.

At some point, he was down to a black t-shirt and jeans, everything else abandoned on the floor with Aziraphale's clothing. It is an unfamiliar sight that he can't stop glancing down at.

At another point, his arm found its way around Aziraphale's shoulders, then his waist instead, and Aziraphale just cuddled close instead of commenting on it. It feels like time is moving differently and like he's breathing under water and, ultimately, like they can be what they want to be without driving away the urge with stupid fears. He can't hold onto a thought for very long other than how good he feels. It's lovely.

"What are you thinking about?" Aziraphale asks, lifting his head, after they've both gone silent.

". . .when you said I went too fast, in my car all those years ago," he says, because that's been on his mind ever since. "What did you think I wanted?"

"Oh," Aziraphale says, softly. "Well, I thought maybe it was. . .what I wanted, as well. What I was trying not to want."

"Angel," Crowley says. He really wants a straight answer for once, something other than wait and see and lingering looks, but then Aziraphale is relighting the pipe.

"Let me try something," he says. "I've never done it but I've read–well, just breathe in when our mouths touch, dear."

Crowley watches Aziraphale take another hit, feeling paralyzed for just a moment when Aziraphale slides fingers into hair to hold him in place before he's leaning in so they're pressed together as he slots his mouth over Crowley's and breathes out slowly.

Crowley doesn't cough at all this time and Aziraphale stays right there, touches their foreheads together, murmurs his name like a goddamn blessing.

"I want you," Crowley says, breathlessly, winding his arms around Aziraphale like he might change his mind. "Please, angel, please-can I have you?"

Every word and every kiss that Aziraphale gives him after feels like it will linger forever, hovering around in the air between them, a gentle buzzing under his skin. He is feeling everything so much.

"Yes," Aziraphale says, kissing his mouth. "Yes, anything you want." His cheek. "My beautiful boy." The tip of his nose. "So brave."

"Dunno about brave," Crowley murmurs.

"For me, you are," Aziraphale says, stroking his cheek. "You always have been."

Crowley would do anything for him. If being brave is part of that, maybe he is.

They kiss for an indeterminate amount of time, Aziraphale mostly in his lap, until Aziraphale pulls away just enough to murmur, "Should we sober up, darling? Maybe talk?"

" I'd like to touch you a while longer," Crowley admits, brushing fingers down Aziraphale's throat, tracing down underneath his loose collar. "I think I might be braver this way, actually."

Aziraphale smiles down at him warmly and starts to unbutton the rest of his shirt.

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #my fic

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izurou · 1 year

Text

you can’t sleep, and so kento can’t either.

it’s a recurring theme. you toss and turn, turn and toss, and being the light sleeper he is—kento will wake up.

he always attempts to lull you back into a slumber though, even if he is only twenty percent aware of his surroundings. one of his arms will reach out to your side and pull you close upon discovery, more or less restricting any further movement on your end as he keeps you in place with his strength.

ten minutes pass, followed by fifteen, twenty five, half an hour—and all you get is the overflow of his seemingly endless supply of body heat, which in turn, just makes your dream of a good night’s rest—or what’s left of it, even more unattainable.

you slip out of his grasp—mumbling something about getting a glass of water from the bathroom—or using the kitchen? he isn’t entirely sure. even so, you’ve pulled this stunt enough times for him to know you won’t be back anytime soon.

so he forces himself out of bed and steps into the pair of sandy brown slippers he keeps by the door—dragging them against the hardwood floors as he joins you downstairs.

“you can’t do this every time,” he mutters over his shoulder—filling your little kitchen with the steady sound of his spoon as it clinks against the sides of his mug. “you do know that, right?”

he’s cute like this—little blonde tufts sticking out all over his head, a faint red indentation wrapping around the arm he was passed out on, and the subtlest hint of annoyance woven into his words—a watered down version of the tone satoru is often on the receiving end of.

“why not?” you ask, sweet and innocent—you’re not hurting anyone—well, maybe yourself in the grand scheme of things, but that has nothing to do with him, right?

“don’t you think it’d make more sense to, i don’t know,” he pauses, lifting the cup to his lips for a quick sip before turning around. “try to sleep?”

“no,” you say, mimicking his movements as you reach for your own cup—chamomile tea he made for you. “sometimes you just have to get up and move around.”

“yeah?” a puff of air leaves his nose—something resembling a laugh as he hides his growing smirk behind his coffee. “looks like you’re doing a lot of moving, sweetheart.”

well, he isn’t wrong, you’ve been leaning against the kitchen island this whole time—at no fault of your own though, because kento insisted on making the beverage himself.

“you know what i meant,” you grumble, giving him a rather unsavoury glare.

he just hums in agreement, pushes himself off of the edge of the counter, and settles in next to you—same exact position, better company.

“something on your mind?” he asks, knowing full well that your brain is often the culprit on nights like these.

“nothing major,” you reply, “just wondering why you put creamer in my tea.”

flavoured creamer to be exact—tasting vaguely of peppermint, something you’d only expect to find in store around the holiday season. why kento has it now will have to remain a mystery.

“i did?” he furrows his brows, craning his neck to peek into your cup—and sure enough, the liquid is a much lighter shade of brown than it should be.

you didn’t say anything of course, seeing as he was nice enough to do it for you—but apparently, not conscious enough to do it well.

“mhm, it’s,” you pause—bringing the rim of the cup to your lips, reluctantly letting the concoction slide down your throat, and over exaggerating the disgusted face you make in the process. “t’s really bad, maybe you should’ve let me do it.”

“tch, don’t give me that,” he huffs, though he just can’t seem to fight the grin that bullies it’s way onto his lips.

“give you what?” you ask, as innocent and sweet as always—even despite the pout on your face.

“that,” he clarifies, pressing a finger against the apple of your cheek, which consequently replaces your pout with a pretty smile—and maybe, this is worth more than the sleep he’s missing out on.

you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into the warmth of his chest—ironic, you know—but it’s much different when you’re not buried under the blankets. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

you remain like this for a few minutes, and he’s silent, incredibly so—with his chin resting atop your head and his hands holding your waist. you can’t make out the sound of his breath, nor the beat of his heart—did he die up there?

“ken?” you poke him, searching for a sign of life.

“hm?” he jolts a little, seemingly coming back to his senses on contact. well, he’s not dead—just sleepy, and totally giving himself away.

you might not be able to sleep, but kento can—he just chooses not to, for your sake.

#izurou #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami <3 i miss him sob

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crystalflie · 1 year

Text

Two Cat People In The Same Room. (II)

Part ll —> (Part I here)

Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader x Banda Sunato

Description: Apparently raiding the department stores was everyone’s first instinct after the king of spades scare at Shibuya Cross. Now you’re stuck with only a cat hoodie over your inconvenient swimwear from the beach, and two unconventional cat lovers in a game of betrayal.

Word count: 1451

Tags: Gender-neutral reader, general audiences, canon divergence, fluff, canon typical character behavior and description of violence, Chishiya and Banda side-eyeing each other, can be platonic or romantic.

————————————————————————

You and the boy with the overalls, who kindly introduced himself as Ippei, got along just fine, with or without Banda and Chishiya. He seemed like an honest person, so you supposed you could trust him. It wasn’t as if you’ve got many options either…you would probably be okay with trusting Chishiya too, since you have seen each other around before when he was beginning to speak to Arisu more.

And speaking of Chishiya..he and Ippei must have bumped into each other at some point when you left to use the bathroom, because by the time you came back, the two were chatting enthusiastically. Chishiya noticed you first even from a distance, and when Ippei turned his back on him to greet you, the white-haired let a tiny smile slip. Confused, you looked down to avoid his gaze and quietly replied to Ippei.

Why did you feel flustered?

Is it because seeing Chishiya smile was typically a sign something bad will happen? He looked too stoic for his own good mostly…

You look up again, and this time Chishiya holds up his right hand, pressing his middle and ring finger to his thumb, making a gesture resembling a fox or cat of sorts.

What?

You tilt your head, unsure of what he’s getting at.

Chishiya bends his index finger and pinkie to make the ‘ears’ of the fox-cat move.

Oh.

Is he talking about your hood?

You suddenly feel even more embarrassed and slip your hood off, to which Chishiya only chuckles, walking over.

Ippei seemed oblivious, introducing Chishiya and explaining that you should let him join your duo since he didn’t have a partner.

You slowly nod, not truly minding his presence.

“Okay, you can join us, Chishiya.”

Relieved, Ippei let go of the breath he was holding, as if he had expected you to say no.

“Let’s work together and leave this place soon!”

Your new ‘teammate’ hums in response, boring his eyes into you again when you agreed with Ippei.

“Likewise.”

——————————————————————

After the end of the first round, everyone managed to step out of their cells alive, which lifted a lot of the tension that was present earlier. You later found out that the Banda man ended up partnering up with an emo-looking guy that covered half his face with his hair. They were both rather unusual, so maybe it was bound to happen.

Other than them, the groups that stood out were one led by a pretty girl wearing a blue dress and a partnership between a businessman and a woman that must work with him.

However, even with others, Banda’s interest in you didn’t seem to dissolve, along with his little…staring problem.

And it was even more awkward when you’ll catch him shamelessly eyeing you whenever you were in the same vicinity. Instead of looking away like a normal person, Banda’s expression would brighten an unsettling matter like it was what he wanted the entire time. There wasn’t much you could do about it though..so you tried to get Ippei to go with you whenever you wanted a snack or when you were walking through the halls. But right now, you were unfortunately left with only Chishiya, the two of you standing near the edges of the central room as some others met up to share their suits for the second round. It still made you nervous being with Chishiya without Ippei, the man wasn’t much of a talker and whenever he did decide to talk, it was always mindless teasing…

“So…”

Chishiya began, startling you unexpectedly as he plopped his back against the wall.

“Yeah..?”

He crosses his arms.

“What’s with the outfit?”

You huffed, crossing your arms to match him. Did he have to keep pointing it out?

“I just needed something warm, and I didn’t have time to find more comfortable clothes.”

It was true, you still wore your swimsuit from the beach, just with some jean shorts over them and the hoodie. Anything is better than being underdressed and running around the streets.

“O-kay. I guess you’re not trying to steal my white hoodie aesthetic.”

You pause.

Is Chishiya…joking? He sounded fifty percent deadpanned but his attempt at being funny was at least hilarious enough for the man to pft at his own joke.

“Just kidding. It’s cute.”

“WHAT?!”

Your outburst comes as a surprise, capturing the attention of others nearby, and you try to make an excuse but only end up stuttering until you give up and decide to shut your big mouth. Chishiya blinks at you curiously in silence, waiting until everyone returns to their conversations. You ended up staring ahead and tried to ignore him for some peace of mind.

Until you felt a hot breath in your ear.

“Hey.” Chishiya whispered.

You jump back in reflex, covering your ear with a hand.

“What is it? Do I make you anxious?”

He kept his voice low, but its tone didn’t change. Cold and impersonal like he was toying with you earlier, like he enjoyed the reactions he drew out of you.

“N-no, I-”

You try to shake your head and deny it, but before you can get a proper sentence out, a body gets violently launched right past where you stood.

“TELL ME YOU FUCKER!”

Startled, your legs stumbled back towards Chishiya until your back hit his chest, and a large, scary man walked out of the direction from which the body was thrown.

The smaller, meeker guy that was tossed onto the ground sniffled, unable to reply straightly.

“Easy there.” Chishiya muttered only so you could hear.

“H-huh?”

You then realized you've been gripping onto his sleeve, unknowingly digging your nails into his arm. You shakingly let go of him, but the yelling happening in the background wasn’t calming your nerves. From the corner of your eye, you see the large man grabbing the poor guy’s hair and continuing to intimidate him into telling him his suit.

“Heyyy! C'mon now, TELL ME WHICH ONE!”

You desperately look at Chishiya, hoping he’ll somehow do something to stop the violence taking place.

“Chishiy-”

Chishiya places a finger on his lips and shushes you.

“Shh..it’s okay. Just watch.”

There was grunting, and the man on the ground was being kicked repeatedly backward by the bully, until he was satisfied and stepped back.

You couldn’t do it anymore. You were scared, but you didn’t want to watch another player get hurt by one of your own. It must be what the Jack wants, for you all to start betraying each other.

You tried to step forward to help the guy up, but a hand tightly gripped yours and pulled you back.

At that moment, someone else stepped in, propping the smaller guy up from the ground.

Banda.

He smiled that darn smile as he whispered something in the guy’s ear, and by the time the bully turned back to them, the answer he wanted so badly was given.

“CLUB! Y-you’re a club!”

You sighed in relief, justifying now the bully would leave the poor guy alone.

What did Banda say to convince him?

You shook your head, trying not to think too much about it. Better to forget these things before you lose your cool in a hearts game.

Quickly, you noticed Chishiya’s grip didn’t loosen, and you snatched your arm back. You didn’t understand why he acted that way, and just wanted some time alone from people. Even if you weren’t directly affected, the event made you feel…unwell.

Marching down one of the halls, you didn’t bother to check where you were going, wishing for the raging headache you felt to disappear.

You got pretty far away, but began to hear footsteps following you.

“Chishiya pleas-”

Someone’s cold finger grazed the back of your neck, trailing down to your collar.

“Heart.”

You snatched your head around to see Banda fondly staring at the mechanical collar you wore, and he dropped the arm that reached out towards you.

“The game’s just begun. Let's have lots of fun, scaredy-cat.”

~AN: Boom. Part two. More Banda next part, I promise. Please let me know if there are spelling mistakes.~

#chishiya #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya shuntarou #banda sunato #chishiya shuntaro #sunato banda #chishiya shuntaro x reader #banda sunato x reader #banda x reader #chishiya x reader #aib s2 #aib season 2

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wooahaes · 5 months

Text

a love that burns brightly

pairing: non-idol!s.coups x gn!reader

genre: fluff. domestic fic. established relationship.

word count: 1.0k~

warnings: reader has a side business selling candles. mentions of hot wax (being melted).

daisy's notes: me as i restrain myself from writing husband!cheol again bc i feel like im too predictable-

If there was one thing you could say about your boyfriend, it was that he probably advertised your side business more than you did.

Candle-making had started as something you did kind-of for fun. Sure, you sold your candles from the very beginning, but it was more-so because you needed some way of recouping the money you sunk into it. And, sure, it was only a side business that took up… a lot more time than you liked admitting. But that was what your days off were for: dedicating as much time as you needed to make your candles and restock the online store. This time of year was always your busiest for a reason (Holiday scents! Sales! Clear your inventory so you can start fresh in the new year!), and that meant Seungcheol stayed over at your apartment a lot more… especially when he came in with a list.

He’d been reading it off to you as you moved about your kitchen (your center of operations, so to speak), “Jeonghan said he loved the cinnamon candle you gave him. Joshua liked the pine one, and I thought we could maybe throw in an extra? I’ll pay for it. And Jun…”

All of this was what he’d pulled together over the past week. You’d told Seungcheol that if he wanted to sell to his coworkers that it’d be fine (considering how often he bragged about your work), but yesterday was the deadline for any orders. Of course… You didn’t expect him to manage to get every single person he was close to to buy at least one. Even that Vernon guy, who apparently bought three—two for his parents and one for his own girlfriend(slash-his-own-apartment since they lived together).

You looked up from the double boiler you were using to melt wax. “Cheollie?”

He stopped mid sentence, right about to tell you what he’d convinced Jihoon to order, “Yes?”

“Why don’t you live here?” The two of you had been together for almost two years at this point—although you’d known him for longer.

He made his way over to you, setting the list down closer. “Don’t you remember?” He leaned against your fridge. “You said you didn’t want to live with anyone for a while.”

Your brows drew together. When did you…? And then it clicked. Back when you first met Seungcheol (through Joshua—he went to the same gym as you, and one music-based conversation was enough to make the two of you friends), he’d said something about his own roommate at the time. You’d admitted that that was the exact reason why you weren’t going to live with anyone for a while. You made enough to support yourself: why not enjoy the solitude?

(“Even if you’re dating someone?” Joshua had said, nudging you as he kept stealing glances at Seungcheol.

“I mean, maybe eventually, but the right person isn’t going to force themselves in unless it’s an emergency,” you had shrugged in response. “I don’t mind sharing my space if I need to, but… I like living alone right now.”)

“I mean… Yeah… But…” You avoided his gaze, stirring the mixture with your silicone spatula to try and help it melt more evenly. “I just thought we’d talk about it at some point.”

He crossed his arms. “Honey?”

“Hm?”

“Is this your way of asking me to move in?”

One glance at Seungcheol was enough to tell you he was thoroughly enjoying the idea of making you admit it. Another slow stir, and you nodded after a moment. “Maybe.”

“Is it?” He pushed a little further, and you swore you could hear his smile in his words alone. “Do you want me to?”

“Can it be your Christmas gift?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “If you want. My lease isn’t up for a few months, but I’d love to move in when it’s up.”

You hid a smile. “Can you get the jars from my office? You’ll have to center the wicks when it’s time, too.”

Seungcheol stepped forward, pressing a quick peck against your cheek. “Whatever you need me to do,” he turned. You listened as he walked out, yet still spoke loud enough for you to hear him, “Can I get one for free?”

“Aren’t you sick of them by now?”

You heard the sound of glass clinking together as Seungcheol heaved the box into his arms, making his way back in, “I’m not moving in for a few months,” he said. “And you usually have one burning here…”

Fair enough. “You can get one of the leftovers.”

“Deal.” He set the box at his feet as he began to pull the jars out, setting them out. “I know I’ve said it before, but… I’m proud of you.”

“Cheollie—”

“No, really,” he said. “I am. You work full time and you do this as a side business because you love it. If you ever wanted to quit and do this full time… I’d be happy to support you.”

“I like my job,” you shrugged. “I like this, too, but I’m happy with the balance I have now. Especially when I have this guy who comes around sometimes to help me…”

He smiled, setting another jar down. “Is he handsome?”

“I think he’s pretty sexy, yeah,” you giggled. “I think you know him, actually. His name is Yoon Jeonghan—”

Seungcheol almost elbowed you playfully, only stopping because of the hot wax in front of you. “You’re so mean to me,” he pouted. “Right after you were begging me to move in, too.”

“I wasn’t begging.”

Seungcheol chuckled again. “Sure you weren’t.” He let out a blissful sigh. “So… What scent is this batch going to be again?”

“I dunno. What scent did Yoon Jeonghan want again?”

Wax be damned. He turned, immediately pulling you in for a quick kiss, and you could feel him smile against your lips as you giggled. Honestly, you couldn’t wait until he moved in with you officially.

(... And maybe you’d text that to Jeonghan so he could get in on teasing Seungcheol, too.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny

#wooahaes.dec23 #wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #s coups x reader #s coups x you

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katnisspeetaprim · 10 months

Text

Slice Of Life Part 2

Jeon Jungkook/Reader

Summary: Your relationship with jungkook is going strong, but things don't always go as planned.

Warnings: Established relationship, idol!au, fem!reader, pregnancy, talk of toxic family, swearing.

Word count: 2198 Part1 M.list

2020

Since that first date with Jungkook, things had been going well. You had been together for just about two years at this point, having moved in together after the first year. Even though you were both young, you both knew that this is something you were in for the long haul.

Basically, everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Having a baby at this point in your life was definitely not on your to do list. At 22 you’d think you would know better. You and Jungkook had gotten pretty drunk at the party celebrating the success of their last album, MOTS: Persona, and apparently decided to have unprotected sex.

Now you wouldn’t change it for the world. You were the proud parents of a beautiful 2 year old little girl, but at the time in 2020, things weren’t all sunshine and rainbows...

When you found out you were pregnant, neither of you knew what to do. Only thing you knew for sure was that you wanted to keep it, but Jungkook was having constant panic attacks at the thought that this could cost him his career. You weren’t anybody famous, just a regular store worker, so even though you wanted to sympathize with him, you didn’t suffer that kind of anxiety.

Jungkook’s anxiety got so bad some nights that he would rush to throw up, and then fall asleep on the bathroom floor. His fellow BTS members noticed a change in the young boy. There worry continued to grow every time he would arrive at the studios, obviously completely exhausted. They tried talking to him, but he would always brush off their concerns, insisting that nothing was wrong and that he could take care of himself.

Looking back, Jungkook knows that his panic was unfounded, but he couldn’t help but think the worst at the time.

The very first person he’d told you were pregnant, even before his own parents, was Namjoon. He knew he could trust his leader to put him on the right path.

‘Please say something hyung.’ Jungkook had cornered Namjoon in his studio, knowing they would have privacy here.

‘I’m just in shock honestly. You know you’ve been incredibly foolish right?’ Namjoon stared pointedly at the younger boy, who in turn looked down in shame. ‘Who else knows?’

‘Nobody yet and I know I need to tell the company, but hyung I’m terrified.’ Jungkook buried his face in his hands as the tears freely fell. Namjoon looked on with pity. The maknae had gotten himself into this situation so it was his own responsibility. That said, he would still be there for him as his leader and more impotently, his friend.

‘I’m scared I’m going to loose everything I’ve worked so hard for, and I’m scared I’ll be an awful father...’ he was basically sobbing now, letting his emotions fully overtake him. Namjoon was up in a flash and now sitting next to Jungkook, arm placed across his shoulders to offer some comfort.

‘I can’t say how you’ll be as a parent, that’s all down to you. But you know me and the guys will always be on your side. I’m sure it wont come to this, but if the company tries anything, all of us will refuse to work.’ Namjoon was confident in his statement. If they tried to force Jungkook out, they would all fight it tooth and nail to get their way.

Luckily it didn’t come to that. Namjoon had forced Jungkook to set up a meeting that same day to tell the company, stating that it would be better to do it sooner rather than later.

They were pissed to put it bluntly. Pissed that one of their top idols would be so careless.

‘So what do you plan to do?’ Namh Si-Hyuk stared at him from across the table. Usually, he wouldn’t be the one to lead meetings with his idols, leaving that to their managers, but all things considered, he thought it best to deal with this in person. The man was a lot calmer than Jungkook had expected. Bang PD sighed in disappointment when Jungkook told him that you both wanted to keep it, but nodded along never the less.

‘I think the best thing in this situation would be to keep it as quiet as possible, then a few months before delivery, you go on hiatus for ‘personal reasons’.’ Bang PD nodded to himself as he wrote something down on the notepad in front of him. ‘What does Y/N do for work?’ Jungkook’s head snapped up when the older man revealed his plan. For the whole meeting, his head had been bowed, too embarrassed to meet his seniors gaze.

‘What!? You mean I’m not fired?’ Bang PD looked almost offended at Jungkook’s surprised tone.

‘You really think that low of us here?’ He sighed and shook his head.

‘N-no! It’s just...’ He didn’t know what else to say.

‘Ask Y/N how she would feel working here during her pregnancy. That way it would be much easier to keep things under wraps.’

‘Y-yeah. I’ll do that tonight.’ He had no idea how that conversation would go down. It wasn’t like you particularly liked your job at the convenience store, but still...

‘What? So now I have to be watched by your company!?’ You seethed as you stood over Jungkook, who was doing everything to avoid eye contact. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

‘It’s not like that. They just want to make sure it doesn’t get out yet.’

‘Well tough shit! I have no obligation to your company! Fuck you for even asking me this Jungkook!’ He winced when you cursed at him, sighing as he watched you storm off towards the bedroom. He couldn’t force you to leave your job, but he also didn’t know where to go from there.

It had taken you the whole night to calm down. You didn’t even let Jungkook in the bedroom that night, forcing him to sleep in the stuffy spare room. You understood he was only doing what BigHit had requested of him, so your anger towards him was probably unfounded.

You sat down with him when he returned home the next night, and spoke about what was best for you to do. You knew it could be dangerous for you to continue working at the convenience store if people found out who the father of your baby was, so you reluctantly agreed to accept a position at the company building.

‘I’m nervous Kook, what if I screw up?’ You fidgeted nervously as you walked into the building with him. Jungkook didn’t actually need to be there that day, but he wanted to make sure you got settled properly.

‘Relax, you’ll do great! Plus you’re only an assistant so not much to stress about!’ he reassured you, grabbing your hand and stroking your knuckles. ‘Besides, it’s only until you give birth, so if you hate it that much you don’t have to stay after.’ It had taken you a little while to get used to your new position. Jungkook had lied when he said there wasn’t much stress involved with being an assistant to their managers, but then again, how would he know?

Everybody had been extremely welcoming to you and helped you to settle in. Only a couple of people knew of your situation, so it wasn’t like there was nobody to talk to if need be.

Years later, you had not only stayed at the company, but raised the ranks and had become a manager for TXT. You’d joined the company not long after their debut, but had known them since you started dating Jungkook pretty much. The boys all loved you, plus you worked well with them so it only made sense for you to be placed with them when you took on a permanent role.

As your pregnancy went on, Jungkook had calmed down somewhat. At least compared to when you first found out. Now it was time to tell other people.

You’d both travelled to Busan to tell his family in person. There reaction was a lot better than you expected in all honesty.

‘I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandma already! Would it have killed you to wait a few years!?’ His mother cried out, whilst pulling the two of you into a tight hug.

‘If you ever need any help, you know where we are, ok?’

Later that night, Jungkook was hold up with his dad and brother, doing god knows what, whilst you and his mom sat in the living room, eating nibbles and drinking tea.

‘So. You can tell me the truth. How has all this been for you?’ she asked with a knowing smile.

‘It’s been stressful I wont lie.’ You absentmindedly rested your hand on top of your stomach. You were about 5 months along at this point.

‘Jungkook was really scared at first. So was I. But we have so many amazing people around us, it was hard to even feel that way after a while.’

‘And how about your parents dear?’ What have they done for you?’ You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked away. You had to tell your family at some point, but you knew the reaction they would have. There attitude was part of the reason you had up and moved across the country without telling them.

Your reaction told Jungkook’s mom everything she needed to know, so she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

‘You’ll always have us. Please don’t forget that.’

After that visit, you decided that there was no need for your parents to know. The only time they called you was when they wanted money now that your step dad had lost his job, so why would you want that toxicity in your child’s life?

Jungkook was supportive of your decision, having witnessed your family’s anger first hand. Though it wouldn’t be long until they found out...

At around 7 and a half months, the rumours began floating around about the pregnant woman that recently started at the company. Different rumours were surfacing whenever you were pictured with certain idols. Nothing was confirmed however, until you and Jungkook were spotted leaving your apartment one morning. The news exploded that day, causing BigHit to basically go into lockdown for damage control.

‘since you were seen leaving Y/N’s place, we think it would be best to confirm the relationship, to avoid anymore rumours.’ Manager Sejin explained, strong cup of coffee in his hands. Jungkook grasped your hand under the table as you listened intently.

‘Is it still ok for me to work here?’ You asked hesitantly. Sejin shot you a questioning look. ‘Since I was only offered the position to keep the pregnancy quiet.’ Sejin smiled at you and patted your shoulder.

‘You’ll always be welcome here Y/N, if that’s what you want. Right now though, you both need to look over this statement.’

There was a mix of reactions to the announcement. There was some positive, but also a lot of negative, and negative ones always stuck out the most.

People saying that you baby trapped him, that he was too young and you ruined his life, mostly things like that.

Even though they promised that you would always have a job there, Sejin insisted that you take early maternity leave, allowing you to work from home so the situation could blow over. Jungkook had also been placed on leave so he could be with you for the last part of your pregnancy. You felt awful that he had to stop working early because o you, but he reassured you that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

‘Jagi... You know this is something I don’t want to miss.’ He came up behind you and rubbed your stomach. ‘If they didn’t put me on leave, I don’t know when I would be here with you.’ You smiled and spun round in his arms to face him, leaning up to kiss him.

‘I love you.’

When it came time to give birth, considering it was also your first child, everything went as smoothly as it could. You were in labour for about 13 hours, before you finally gave birth.

‘It’s a girl!’ Your exhausted breathing filled the room as your daughter was placed on your bare chest. Jungkook looked on in awe, tears welling up in his eyes, as his fingers ghosted over her head, almost as if he were afraid to touch her.

‘Kook... she’s perfect.’ You stared down at the baby, not quite believing you had helped make her.

‘We should get her cleaned up.’ The nurse scooped her from your grasp. You didn’t want to let her go.

‘Y/N...I can’t believe we’re actually parents now.’ Jungkook pulled you back to reality and you turned your tired head to face him.

Happy tears streamed down his face. He wiped his eyes before standing and hugging you from above.

‘Do we have a name?’ The nurse smiled as she handed your baby back to you. Both Jungkook and you smiled warmly at each other, before looking own at your daughter.

‘So-Hee.’

#bts #bts x reader #imagine #one shot #scenario #reaction #drabble #smut #fluff #angst #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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orithyia-eriphyle · 11 months

Text

Drive

Chapter 2: Close Previous Masterlist Next

Word Count: 3.1k

Stray Kids x Fem!Reader (Street Racing AU)

Synopsis: You figured making one new friend since your move would be enough for a while, but apparently you need more. The barista at your local coffee shop seems relatively persistent in being your friend… and who are you to stop him?

A/n: Can you guys tell I watched Tokyo Drift before writing this chapter?

***

Later that night you and Minho were sitting on his couch, gazing at the shitty action movie on the TV. The two of you constantly poking fun at the less-than-great acting and unimpressive special effects. Soonie was sleeping quietly on your lap, your fingers running through his fur as he slept.

“How long have you been in Seoul?” Minho said, breaking the silence. You looked over at the man to find him already staring at you.

“I actually just got here yesterday.” You paused, “It would be nice for someone to show me around.” You said with a cheeky smile. Minho’s lips quirked up into a half-smile, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips.

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” He replied, his question rhetorical. You rolled your eyes, a smile still plastered to your face as you turned your attention back to the TV.

“How about this weekend?” Minho suddenly spoke again.

“What do you mean?” Minho deadpanned at your oblivious questioning.

“I meant how about I show you around this weekend.” He said, looking down at the gray cat in his lap and scratching it in between the ears.

“I would enjoy that, actually.” The two of you smiled at each other before continuing the movie.

***

You and Minho had talked through most of the night, only leaving his apartment when you realized it was nearly 1:00 AM. You went to bed that night happier than usual. You tend to struggle with making friends but maybe this move will turn things around for you.

***

You spent the next morning looking for jobs online. Although you got paid well for racing, it wasn’t a steady flow of income. You then got ready to go out, you needed to actually shop for groceries or else you would starve and you can’t live off of fast food forever.

Before going to the grocery store, you stopped at a nearby cafe. You weren’t particularly fond of coffee but staying up so late with Minho last night drained your energy.

You rolled into the parking lot, checking your side view mirrors to make sure you weren’t too close to the lines. You took your keys out of the ignition, the loud music that rocked your car coming to an abrupt stop. You stepped out of your car, shutting and locking the doors. The bell above the door rang out as you entered, the staff behind the counter looking momentarily before getting back to work. The cafe wasn’t bustling considering it was around noon.

You stood back from the counter in order to look at the menu, looking for something to get you through the rest of the afternoon. You looked back down to see the man behind the counter already looking at you. His fluffy brown hair is not styled, and his large brown eyes and full cheeks draw you in. ‘Is every man in Seoul this attractive or am I just lucky?’ You thought to yourself as you stepped forward to order.

“Hello! What can I get for you?” The man said with much more enthusiasm than you were expecting.

“Hello.” You spoke, offering a small smile, “Could I get an iced americano, and two cookies and cream cake pops please?” The man nodded and typed your order into the screen before him.

“And your name please?”

“(Y/n).” You said, handing over your card for the man to swipe. He handed it back to you with a smile,

“Your order will be out momentarily!” You nodded and thanked him with a polite smile, walking to one of the smaller tables to sit and wait.

While waiting for your order you looked around the cafe, taking in the soft browns and greens. The place was warm but not unbearable, the smell of coffee and baked goods filtered through the air. You looked towards the counter, catching the barista who took your order staring at you. You quirked a brow at him, his head whipping around to get back to work. ‘Cute.’ You thought, looking at your phone to see a text from Jeongin.

You came here for “work” opportunities, right? There’s a race tonight. I’ll send you the time and place.

Below was the address and time. ‘The audacity of this kid.’ He used to be the first-year you tutored during your second to last year of high school, but now he’s sending you details for your less-than-legal job. Of course, he was your best friend but he lost that title after he moved across the country and ghosted you.

You thought for a moment before replying.

I’ll see you there.

“(Y/n)?” You looked up at the call of your name to see the barista from earlier standing at the counter and holding your order in his hands. You stood from your seat and approached the counter, holding out your hands to take the food from the man. As you were collecting your food the man spoke up, “Uhm, is that your BRZ parked outside?” He said, clearly a little nervous to be asking. You smiled slightly.

“Yeah. You like it?”

The man turned his head to you with wide eyes, “Like it? That’s one of the nicest cars I’ve ever seen!” He said, his lips breaking into a smile.

“Oh yeah? How come it’s not the nicest?” You questioned teasingly. The man’s smile shifted into a smirk, his demeanor changing almost wholly.

“Personally, I’m biased toward the Nissan 350Z you’re parked next to.” You looked out the window to gaze upon the bright red car that greatly contrasted your jet-black one.

You smiled and turned your head back to the man, “Well I still like mine better but I get the appeal.” You said, walking towards the door. You were about to exit before a shout stopped you. The man rubbed his neck sheepishly, clearly a little embarrassed for shouting.

“I’m Jisung by the way.” He said with what looked to be a hopeful smile. You chuckled softly, “It’s nice to meet you, Jisung. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” You said with a coy smile. Jisung nodded rapidly, waving goodbye enthusiastically as you left.

***

That night you stood in your bedroom contemplating what to wear. You wanted to dress to impress but not look like you were trying too hard.

You ended up going with some baggy gray cargo pants and a cropped graphic t-shirt. You finished off the look with some Run Star Hike Platform Converse in black. Although the platforms made it harder to tell how much pressure you were putting on the pedal initially, you had gotten used to it.

The location of the race wasn’t that far from your apartments. You rolled through the crowd of people in cars, taking note of the different types of cars present. You looked to the right and saw a nice Mitsubishi Lancer with a white exterior. You parked your car next to it, paying extra mind to the mingling around you.

You got out of your car, the steel rings on your fingers clinking against the door of the car as you closed it. People stared at you, or really your car as they walked by. You were a new face, fresh meat.

“I didn’t take you for the racing type.”

You turned toward your left at the sound of the familiar voice.

Minho stood next to you, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Well, I don’t usually like to keep my illegal endeavors out on display for everyone.” You replied, looking him up and down and definitely not focusing on how good those leather pants made his thighs look.

“Noona!” A shout rang out from behind the two of you.

Jeongin came jogging towards you, stopping to stand in front of you. “I honestly thought you were going to bail on me.” He spoke, slightly out of breath after having been looking for you for nearly thirty minutes.

“Now when have I ever disappointed you, Innie?” You said, a coy smile plastered on your face.

Minho glances between the two of you, taking note of your closeness. Jeongin was standing awfully close and you two addressed each other with familiarity, so you were obviously close to some degree.

“I take it you two already know each other?” The older man asked, cocking a brow.

“Know each other? I was the sole reason he made it through high school.” You teased, nudging the younger boy beside you.

“That’s not true and you know it,” Jeongin stated, a faux frown on his face.

Minho nodded and focused his attention on you. “Are you racing tonight?” He asked and looked around at all the other cars in the area.

“I am. I wanna see how I compare to the Seoul group.” You said, turning to pop open the hood of your car and give everything one last check.

Minho smirked and uncrossed his arms.

“Well, then I guess I’ll be seeing you at the starting line, princess.”

***

“I’m going to give you a warning, Noona. Minho doesn’t play.” Jeongin said as you got into the driver’s seat of your car.

“Good. I don’t either.” You replied coolly, putting your keys into the ignition and starting the car.

“I’m serious, Noona. Minho is really good.” He replied, stressing certain parts of his sentence.

You put your hands on the wheel and turned your head to look up at Jeongin, his arms resting on your open window. “Have a little more faith in me, Innie. I don’t expect myself to win. My ego isn’t that big.”

You paused before continuing, “But I’m also a lot better than you seem to think I am.”

***

You rolled up to the drawn-up line, Minho not far behind you. Your windows were down so you took the chance to look at the handsome man. The slope of his nose and the cut of his jaw were accentuated by the bright streetlights. He turned his head to the right to look at you. Luckily, you were smart enough to hit the ‘sports mode’ button on your center console before starting the race as it would help you to accelerate faster.

“Loser buys dinner this weekend?” He said, a slight grin painted on his features.

“You have yourself a deal, pretty boy.” You responded, your own grin present.

A woman walked up, standing between your two cars. Her shirt was short and her skirt even shorter.

“Listen up! I want a clean race, you two.” She said, as she slowly raised the cloth in her right hand into the air.

The crowd increased their volume as you and Minho revved your engines, you gave the handsome man one last glance. You looked back to the woman, your left hand gripping the steering wheel tightly as your right rested on the transmission.

The woman winked at you and dropped the cloth, faster than you could think you pressed the clutch and switched gears, your car whipping into gear as you and Minho sped passed the temporary line.

The two of you were neck and neck, the mufflers on your cars popping as the speed rapidly increased and the needle on the tachometer going up as your RPM increased in numbers. Once you reached a steady pace, you turned off sports mode.

You were racing in the outskirts of Seoul late at night so you didn’t have to worry about traffic much, weaving in and out of any cars that were on the road. Your heart was racing, the muscle felt like it was going to bust through your ribcage. Your adrenaline pumped steadily through your veins like it always did when you raced.

You and Minho made a right, your tires squealing as you drifted impressively in sync for people who have never previously raced together. Tire tracks were left in your wake, smoke emitting from the burnt rubber.

Eventually, the two of you reached a parking garage, the finish line at the top of it. This is where you would have to overtake Minho if you wanted to win. You looked to your left briefly, catching the man’s gaze, his cat-like gaze sharpening as you smirked at him.

You entered the parking garage, the sounds of your engines increasing as they echoed and bounced off the concrete walls. The distance between your cars decreased as you got closer to the ramp that would only be able to fit one of your cars at once. If one of you didn’t speed up and overtake the other soon, someone is going to crash.

You glanced at your center console, taking note of the NOS. You wouldn’t use that yet, it’s too soon. Right now, you are going to rely on timing.

You stared head-on at the rapidly approaching ramp. At the last possible second, you flipped your sports mode back on and slammed on the gas pedal. Minho was fast but you were faster. You sped around his car and turned the wheel quickly to the right, your car drifting up the looping ramp. You looked in the rearview mirror to see that Minho was practically kissing your bumper.

You came out to the top of the ramp and saw the crowd of people at the end of the parking lot, Minho right behind you. You didn’t bother using NOS because the crowd was too close and you didn’t want to risk not being able to slow down in time.

Minho was still behind you but close, you hit the brakes and your car drifted over the finish line and stopped. The smoke emitted from your tires blocks your view momentarily. You didn’t even have time to unbuckle or think before Minho’s car was next to yours. You got out of your car, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.

The crowd surrounded you, jumping and cheering. Well, at least the ones that bet on you winning. You ignored them, glancing around for either Minho or Jeongin. You spun around at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder, the perpetrator turning out to be the younger boy that put you up to this.

“Holy shit, Noona! That was so cool!” The boy said, a wide grin spread across his face. You laughed at his reaction, watching as the crowd of people dispersed around you.

“That was impressive.” A voice spoke behind you. You turned once again to see a slightly out-of-breath Minho smiling at you.

“Well, I never settle for second place, cutie.” You replied cooly with a coy smile. “You owe me dinner this weekend.”

“I’m a man of my word,” Minho said in a sarcastic manner, even going as far as to give a salute.

“You guys got comfortable fast,” Jeongin spoke from beside you, his smile a little less bright than it previously was. You quirked a brow at him in questioning.

“Don’t be jealous Innie, I won’t steal your girl from you,” Minho said smugly, poking fun at the boy’s obvious affection for you.

Jeongin scoffed with a slight eye roll, “I wasn’t worried about it, hyung. And only (Y/n) calls me Innie.”

Minho held his hands up in defense, “You will be worried when she meets Hyunjin,” Minho said teasingly.

“Let’s not talk about me like I’m not standing right between you two, okay?” You said, raising a brow with crossed arms. You had no clue who this Hyunjin was but it takes a little more than a pretty face to sweep you off your feet. Both men looked at you and nodded, seemingly over with their small debacle.

“You guys wanna swing by mine for a bit? If you don’t have anything going on after this.” You asked, looking between the two men.

“Sure, I could use the company,” Minho said, directing a small smile in your direction.

“I’ll come too, Noona. I still need to check out your new place.” Jeongin replied with a smile.

Jeongin actually did have something to do, but he didn’t like the thought of you and Minho being alone together. He knows you’re an adult and can do whatever you want with whomever you want, but he also isn’t going to miss his shot a second time.

***

You awoke the next morning, peeling open your eyes reluctantly to check the time. You slept like a log after racing so late at night and then spending another few hours with Jeongin and Minho. The clock on your phone read ‘2:06.’ You groaned as you sat up, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a relieved sigh at the popping in your back.

You went about your morning routine as usual, minus the fact that it was mid-afternoon and no longer the morning. Halfway through getting ready, you began craving a cake pop from the cafe you went to the previous day. Usually, one small craving wouldn’t be enough to get you out of the house on a day like this but you also would get to see the cute barista again if you went, which was good enough reasoning for you.

***

You rolled into the parking lot of the cafe the second time that week and parked next to Jisung’s Nissan again. After admiring his car for a minute, you walked into the establishment, the bell ringing out above you.

You noticed Jisung behind the counter, completely oblivious to your entrance, until you cleared your throat in front of him.

The man’s head shot up, his cheeks puffed out in a slight pout due to his shock before he broke into a smile. “(Y/n)! You came back!” He said happily.

“I did say I would see you tomorrow and it’s tomorrow now.” You said smugly.

“You’re right, you did say that.” He said and huffed a small laugh. “So… are you going to order something or did you just come to see my cute face?” Jisung said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

You laughed, “You wish, pretty boy. I wanted more of those cookies & cream cake pops.”

Jisung frowned jokingly, “Darn, I was hoping to make a new friend.” He said as he punched in your order and took your card from you.

“Hey, when’s your break?” You suddenly said, even surprising yourself.

Jisung looked up at you with wide eyes before glancing to the clock behind him, “About 10 minutes from now. Why?” He said and handed you your cake pops.

You shrugged, “I could use some company while I eat these…” You paused and looked back towards the brunette, “...and I could also use a new friend.”

Jisung smiled brightly, his joy slightly contagious. “Okay! Yeah! Would you mind waiting at one of the tables over there?” He said as he pointed to a group of tables in the corner of the room.

You smiled and turned towards the tables, “I don’t mind, pretty boy.”

***

Taglist

@burningchaosdeer @noone356097 @ateezkeepmysoul

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random-thot-generator · 10 months

Text

Love Thy Frenemy + Interlude

Dinner & a Movie

ONE SHOT/INTERLUDE

SIMON RILEY x FRENEMY FEM READER

Summary: Simon helps you prepare dinner before settling in to watch an old movie that has a surprising impact on the stoic soldier.

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, lots of fluff and warm fuzzy feelings, no use of Y/N

(Notes: I was going to gloss over this part in the next chapter, but a reader expressed their excitement over Simon and Doll/reader having a date night, and I would hate to disappoint, so... date night it is. The film mentioned in the story is real, one which I highly recommend. It's one of my favorite comfort films.)

Word Count: 2531

Interlude

“I knew already that the best meal in the world, the perfect meal, is very rarely the most sophisticated or expensive one.... Context and memory play powerful roles in all the truly great meals in one's life.” ― Anthony Bourdain, A Cook's Tour: Global Adventures in Extreme Cuisines

You don't know why you were so nervous, but Riley was, too apparently.

Neither of you spoke as you left the pub after your shift, the air between you awkward and tense. For some reason, this felt different than the other times he had taken you home. Was it because he was coming up to your flat with you? Was he nervous for a similar reason or was it because he had agreed to have dinner with you? He should know he didn't need to worry about that. You would make allowances for him, just like you did last night. Then another thought sprang up in your mind.

Maybe you were nervous because this felt suspiciously like a date.

Don't go there, Dee, you chided yourself. This was nothing more than two friends hanging out and sharing a meal together. Thinking thoughts like that didn't serve any purpose and only made you nervous when you had no reason to be. Strengthening your resolve, you climbed into the truck as he did the same.

"Do you mind stopping by the market?" you asked, trying to push your worries aside as you buckled your seatbelt. "I need to grab a few things for dinner."

Riley shot you a quick look and nodded, fastening his own seatbelt. "Sure, doll. Whatever ya need." He gave you another quick glance, then added, "What're ya goin' t'make, anyway?"

"Roast chicken and vegetables― unless you'd prefer something else?"

He gave a quick shake of the head. "No. Tha's fine." He seemed to be debating his next words, then forced them out. "Ya don't got t'cook if yer tired, ya know? Ain't no big deal. Ya worked all day, so you should relax. I can grab us some takeaway or― "

You laughed lowly. "Ohhh, no you don't. You're not talking me out of this. I'd be cooking whether you were with me or not, so it's not like I'm going out of my way or something. Besides, you eat too much takeaway and fast food, as it is." You giggled when he sniffed and attempted to look offended. Giving him a playful nudge, you tried to reassure him. "Seriously, Ri. It's no big deal. There's not much work involved in what I'm making. It's mostly prep work, then the oven does the rest."

He hummed but didn't say anything else. He drove you to Ploughman's Market, the local grocery, parking in the small car park nearby and shut off the motor. You expected him to stay in the truck while you shopped, knowing how much he despised shopping, so you were surprised when he got out with you and trailed behind you into the store.

Grabbing a shopping cart, you led the way down the first aisle, pausing to pull your grocery list from your back pocket. Riley was shifting back and forth from one foot to the other, looking impatient and nervous as he uncrossed then recrossed his arms over his chest. He was clearly uncomfortable, which in turn put you on edge. He needed something to distract his mind, but didn't know what to do with himself, so you made the decision for him. Lowering your list, you peered up at him. "Mind pushing the trolley for me?"

He gave a quick nod, seemingly relieved to have something to do. Taking hold of the cart, he dutifully followed along behind you, his dark eyes studying each item you placed in the cart. There were vegetables and butter and bread. A carton of milk and a can of broth. A whole chicken was added then a small container of spice― paprika, according to the label.

"Ya gonna use all this jus' t'make dinner?" he asked, curious.

"Mm-hm. Oh, almost forgot to ask. What would you like for dessert?"

The question caught him off guard. He wasn't expecting to have to offer his own input into the meal plan. He shrugged, not sure what to say. "Dunno. Whatever ya want is fine with me."

"Okaaay... How 'bout an apple crumble? With ice cream. Sound good?"

He frowned. "Ya don't need to go to s'much trouble, doll. Ya ain't got t'make dessert. The chicken will be plenty."

You rolled your eyes. "Ri, you love sweets, and I like making them, so just accept that this happening and move past it." When he began grumbling under his breath, you took his arm and walked beside him for a few steps, looking up at him with a little smirk. "It's not a big deal, okay? But if it'll make you feel better, I'll let you help out. You can chop the vegetables and peel the apples, hm?"

"Fine," he mumbled. He hated for you to put yourself out more than you already were. You should be at home with your feet up, not standing over a hot stove cooking him dinner. If he knew how to make more than tea, he would cook, but knew he'd just make a mess and probably set something on fire. His culinary skills ended at the box directions on his microwave dinners.

You led him back to the produce section to pick out the apples you would need, then went back to the spice aisle for cinnamon and nutmeg. The last thing you placed in the cart was a container of vanilla bean ice cream, the one that he had once mentioned was his favorite brand. You'd remembered, and it made him feel weird, pleased and a little self-conscious, knowing you paid attention to even the off-hand things he said.

The co-owner of the store, Mrs. Gilly was at the register when you went to check out. She smiled at you both as you began placing your items on the conveyor. "How ya doin' today, lovie?" she asked, then glanced up at Simon. "And I hope yer doin' well, too, Mr. Riley."

Simon jammed his hands in his pockets and gave a quick nod. "Doin' fine, mum," he said.

"Ri, will you hand me my bag, please?" you asked, then turned your attention to the older woman. "How've you and Mr. Gilly been? Got that new freezer in, I saw. Bet you're pleased 'bout that, yeah?"

Mrs. Gilly huffed a laugh as she began scanning your groceries. "Aye and thank the saints fer it, Told Graham if I had to mop up after that leaky old unit one more time, I was takin' the mop to his head next."

You laughed as you made your way down to the end, pulling a bundle of folded shopping totes from your messenger bag. The two of you chatted away while you bagged up your groceries, leaving Simon to look on with mild amusement. When the total was rung up and you reached for your wallet, however, he spoke up at last.

"I'll pay fer this," he said, handing over his card to Mrs. Gilly. When you opened your mouth to protest, he gave you a sharp look. "Shut it, Dee. If yer cookin', then I'm payin' fer the food."

You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. "But it was my idea. I offered to cook."

"An' I'm takin' ya up on the offer," he agreed, then added, "but I'm still payin' for it."

Mrs. Gilly chuckled, taking his card. "Ya heard the man, love. He's tryin' to play fair with ya. Ain't tha' right, Mr. Riley?"

Simon gave you a smug look. "Yes, mum. 'S a fair play. I buy the food an' Dee cooks it. Seems like a fair deal to me."

You smirked and shook your head. "Fine. You win." You reached for the totes, only to have them snatched away before you could get a grip on them. "Ugh! Ri, I can carry some of this."

"No." Simon gathered the bags in his big hands, refusing to let you carry anything.

"I'm not a weakling, ya know?"

"No, you're a bloody brat, is what ya are. Now, c'mon."

Mrs. Gilly chuckled, watching the two of you bicker as you followed Simon out of the store. She noticed the way he slowed his steps so you wouldn't have to walk fast, his head tilting down to look at you as you looked up at him, chattering away at the usually quiet man. From the looks of it, he was giving as good as he got.

Mrs. Giily gave you both a considering look. He was different around you, and you him. You both seemed to come alive in each other's presence. It warmed her heart to witness it. She couldn't help but think that the two of you made a lovely couple.

After the groceries were carried up to your flat, you set about preparing the meal. Simon sat at the counter and watched, listening to you chatter on about some new fantasy show you'd been watching, feeling all the tension he'd been carrying drain away.

As promised, you put him to work, giving him a cutting board and a couple of knives― one for paring, one for chopping. He was mildly impressed with how sharp you kept them, the blades slicing through the raw vegetables with ease. When he wasn't sure how to cut something, you took the knife and quickly sliced and cubed a potato into the size chunks you wanted, then handed him the knife back without even pausing in your story, not making a big deal of his inexperience.

As he peeled and sliced and chopped, he watched you prepare the chicken, blending the butter together with fresh herbs you collected from some of your little potted plants in the kitchen window. You smeared the concoction over the entire bird before adding a few more sprigs of herbs to the hollowed-out cavity inside it. You then placed the chicken inside a heavy Dutch oven pot and layered the vegetables he'd chopped around it, sprinkling a bit more salt, pepper and paprika over everything. Calling it good, you set the lid on it with a clang and slid the pot into the oven.

"Hand me the apples an' I'll peel 'em," Simon said, pointing at them with his paring knife.

You gave him a little smirk. "Have you ever used an apple peeler?"

"A wot?"

You pulled out a gadget that reminded Simon of the pencil sharpeners from primary school, but with the shavings barrel removed. You showed him how to use it, sticking one of the apples on the device then had him crank the little handle. The peel began to curl off the fruit, making him huff out a laugh. He had no idea such a thing even existed, but enjoyed himself more than he would like to admit.

As he peeled, you cut the apples and sliced them into thin pieces, layering them in the bottom of fancy deep-dish plate you called a tort dish. He was fascinated by the way your deft little hands worked over the food, turning a bunch of random items into an actual meal.

Just like when you tended bar, there was no hesitation in anything you did, the actions second nature for you to perform. The whole process seemed to relax you, all the tension of your day slipping away. You were in your element when in your little kitchen, confident and at ease. Seeing you this way relaxed him as well. He realized he liked doing this with you. A lot.

After the crumble was put together and set aside, you made tea and led him into your little sitting area, encouraging him to peruse the books and movies while you sat back on the couch and enjoyed your cuppa. One of the movies caught his eye, the word 'ghost' drawing his attention. It was an old black and white film called 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir'.

He pulled the case from the shelf and flipped it over to read the back, brows scrunching together. "Tha' doesn't even make any sense," he muttered. "A ghost fallin' in love." He sniffed in derision and shook his head, ready to put it back on the shelf.

You hummed, tilting your head to look up at him as you sipped your tea. "It makes sense once you see the movie. It's a great film, one of my favorites."

He eyed you for a moment and then handed you the case. "Put it on, then. I can withhold judgement until I see it, I s'pose," he said, but his tone was dubious.

At first, Simon watched with an already biased opinion, but as the film went on, he was a little shocked at how invested he had become in the movie, barely even acknowledging the timer on the oven when it went off and you left to take out the chicken. His brows lifted in mild surprise when you returned a few minutes later, handing him a plate full of food and some cutlery.

"Thanks, doll."

You nodded, then tossed a thumb over your shoulder. "I'll sit at the counter, so you can eat and watch the movie," you offered, but he shook his head.

"'S fine. You don't gotta do that. Come back an' finish the movie wif me."

You hesitated for only a second and then nodded. "Okay. Just need to put the crumble in and I'll be right back."

Simon pulled his mask up to his nose without a second thought, balancing the plate on his knees as he took his first bite. His eyes slid shut. Bloody fuckin' hell! How did you make everything taste so good? He shook his head, thinking to himself he'd gladly pay you to cook like this for him every day.

The two of you sat at opposite ends of the couch and ate while finishing the film. You paused it once to get the crumble out of the oven, bringing him a bowl full of crumble and melting ice cream. Simon savored every bite, right up until the end of the movie, the last scene making it a little hard for him to swallow the food in his mouth. Watching the two characters wander into the misty hereafter arm and arm made his chest feel warm and tight. When he glanced over at you, there was a soft expression on your face, sweet and little wistful.

"See?" you murmured to him. "A ghost can fall in love. Does it make sense to you, now?"

Simon swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat, that warm feeling in his chest growing as he gazed at you. He felt so full, full to bursting, and what's more, he felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. He felt... happy. A smile curled up a corner of his mouth as he gave you a begrudging nod.

"Yeah, doll. I guess it does."

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Taglist

@stillinracooncity

@cumikering

@cutiecusp

@deadbranch

@ghostlythots

@thetiredtoad0-0

@glitterypirateduck

@gothgirl6-6-6

@sofasoap

@cathnoneofyourbusiness

#simon ghost riley x fem reader #simon riley x fem reader #cod ghost x fem reader #ghost x fem reader #Frenemies/Tenderness AU #simon ghost riley x frenemy fem reader #Love Thy Frenemy

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kittymaine · 4 months

Text

Mattress Store

Summary: Are mattress stores all fronts? Why are there so many of them? Why does it suck so much to buy a mattress?

The bat boys discuss.

*****

Dick’s life was perfectly comfortable, if maybe not exactly what he would have expected for himself when he was a kid.

He had his own apartment, he ran free gymnastics and yoga classes in his spare time, and had a complicated on again off again relationship with his long time girlfriend. He was also the general manager of a mattress store, one of the most comfortable if also the most boring job he had had since he turned eighteen.

Being called the general manager sounded a lot more impressive than it was. He only had one full time employee and one part time employee that he had to keep track of. Running the store itself was incredibly easy compared to some other management positions he’d held before. The only somewhat frustrating part of the job was that his boss had recently asked him to pick up his son from the nearby elementary school and keep him at the shop until he could come to pick him up. Maybe if it was a different kid it would have been fine, but Damian was one of the most prickly and surly kids Dick had ever met. Luckily, Dick had never met a kid he didn’t like.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think that was true for the rest of the employees at the shop.

Damian pushed through the front door of the shop, the bell above the door giving a cheery ‘ping!’ as he did so. The inside of Mattress Deals looked the same as it always did. Bare mattresses lined up in rows and columns on top of stained and scratchy carpet that probably hadn’t been replaced since 1996 topped with water stained drop ceiling tiles and big salt grimed floor to ceiling windows. The two other employees of the store were sitting at the back of the showroom floor at the only desk visible from the front.

Dick hurried after Damian carrying his backpack that felt like it held at least five encyclopedia volumes. What were they teaching these kids in that fancy academy?

Dick almost ran into the back of Damian halfway to their destination, having to skip around him to stop a collision. Damian had stopped to stare imperiously at the other two employees, tiny fists on his hips and nose in the air already wrinkled in distaste.

“I see that you two drawlatches are still managing to slack off on my father’s dime,” Damian sneered at the two other men in the shop.

“What the fuck is a drawlatch?” Tim asked without looking up from his phone. He put as much disdain on the last word as possible without actually moving his face.

Tim was their only part time employee. He attended Gotham U full time and was majoring in Computer Science, apparently to the great scorn of his father. Dick didn’t really know what the whole deal was there and honestly it wasn’t any of his business. Tim was a viciously efficient sales person, which more than made up for his weird personality. Despite being part time, he made the most commissions of any of them.

“A guest who overstays their welcome,” Jason replied dryly, turning the page of his book also without looking up at Damian.

Jason was their only full time employee. He was only a few years older than Tim, but already had a felony on his record which made it pretty hard for him to find work. Another thing that really wasn’t any of Dick’s business, but Mr. Wayne had assured him that Jason’s felony was from when he was very young, almost criminally young to have a felony attached to his record. Either way, Mr. Wayne trusted him and Jason was always on time. That’s all Dick could really ask of him.

“Wow, fuck you too, Gremlin,” Tim drawled, holding his phone up briefly as the tinny artificial shutter sound of the camera on his phone went off.

Damian snarled, “Did you just take my photograph?!”

“It’s called a pic. Are you sure you’re not like a hundred?” Tim sighed.

“Okay, okay!” Dick intervened, physically stepping in front of Damian when he started to stomp toward Tim. The last time the two of them had tussled across the store it had ended with Tim sporting a bloody nose and Damian with a split lip. He wasn’t looking forward to a repeat performance explaining something like that to his boss. “I know you’re all happy to see each other, but I need to get Damian set up at the desk so he can work on his homework.”

Damian clicked his tongue and dodged around Dick, but luckily he made his way toward the desk that Jason was lounging at rather than charging at Tim. Jason got up out of the chair and flopped down on a nearby mattress without once looking up from his book. Obediently, Damian got out his books and worksheets and pulled one of the pencils from his pencil case and started to work on filling out his worksheets.

Sighing, Dick rubbed a calloused hand through his hair. He cast a glance out over the store, but it was empty as usual. It was three o’clock on a Thursday, so it wasn’t like he was expecting a rush anyway. A few old sun bleached SALE! signs hanging from the ceiling floated in the slight breeze from the central air units. The only noise was the quiet scratch of Damian’s pencil, the muted tap of Tim’s thumbs on his phone screen and the occasional flap of a page turning from Jason. Stretching backward, Dick bent until he felt a few of vertebra pop satisfyingly before retreating to the broom closet that he charitably called his office. It was barely two steps from Damian, but at least there was a wall shielding him from the rest of the store.

The peace barely lasted for fifteen minutes before Damian seemed unable to help himself.

“How much work have either of you actually done today?” Damian shouted, slamming his pencil down as if the quiet of the store infuriated him. Dick put his forehead down on his desk and prayed for someone to set the store on fire or something. Not like a big dangerous fire. Just dangerous enough to close the store for like a week or something. A nice relaxing paid renovation, that sort of thing.

“Sooooo much work,” Tim moaned with a completely straight face.

“I’ve worked so hard today. I’m completely wiped,” Jason agreed, not looking up from his book.

Damian jumped to his feet in a fit of pique. “You terrible people dare to leech off my father like this! Off of his kindness and charity! As if anyone else would dare to laze about on the job!”

“Jesus, calm down. It’s just a front. Who cares,” Tim said with a roll of his eyes.

Jason snorted from behind his book, but otherwise didn’t respond.

“Guys,” Dick moaned. He wished Tim wouldn’t bait Damian constantly. He understood the temptation, he too was once a surly teenager or at least hung around them. Damian was such a fiery little guy that it was incredibly easy to wind him up. But, Tim didn’t have to deal with the hours of grumping, and growling, and fussing that came after.

Damian made a high pitched noise of outrage and looked at Tim as if he had just taken a shit right on his cat.

“My father’s business is not a front for money laundering!” Damian screeched.

“Oh, come on,” Tim said, finally putting his phone away and giving Damian his full attention. “There’s another Mattress Deals right across the street. What reason would there be to have two of the exact same store so close together?”

“Unless you don’t have to worry about competition,” Jason whispered from behind his book.

Dick threw Jason a dirty look, but he just grinned back at him with his uncomfortably pointy incisors.

“The store across the street used to be a Sealy’s and corporate bought them out last year. That’s why there’s two of the same store so close together,” Dick said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“Exactly,” Damian said with a nod. “There is a more than reasonable explanation. It’s just that the two of you are buffoons who are jumping to the worst conclusions.”

“Well, how about the inventory then. When was the last time you saw one of these mattresses actually sell?” Tim asked with an arched brow.

Damian was not cowed however. “I know for a fact that this store is one of father’s most successful. In fact, I’ve heard him say that it is the store with the most units sold in his region,” Damian said with an imperious tilt of his chin.

“Exactly,” Tim said, pointing one long pale finger at Damian. “So, why are most of these mattresses older than me?”

“Tim,” Dick said in exasperation.

“It’s true,” Jason said with a mischievous grin, finally putting aside his book and sitting up. “This mattress has the same stain on it from when I dropped chili on it the first week I started here.”

“Jason! There’s a stain on it?!” Dick yelped, jumping to his feet to inspect the mattress that Jason was still reclining on.

“Yeah,” Jason said with the same inflection that most people said ‘duh’. “I just pull the little velvet logo thing over it so people don’t see it,” Jason explained, pulling aside the long dark blue velvet strip of fabric with the manufacturer’s name and logo that wrapped around the lower half of the mattress. There indeed was a rusty red stain in the lower left corner.

“Jason, what the hell,” Dick whispered as he rubbed at the the stain with his thumb, despite knowing that it was years old.

“What? I was new. I didn’t know if you’d fire me or what,” he said with a shrug. “Now I know that you bitches don’t even pay for these things,” Jason kicked the side of the mattress he was sitting on with a dirty steel toe boot and the cheap metal frame groaned dangerously.

“You don’t pay for them?” Damian asked, his fury momentarily derailed into honest confusion, his little angry face instead twisted into befuddlement.

“No. The manufacturers give the stores free mattresses to display,” Tim said with a lopsided close mouth smile that looked like he was holding back laughter.

“If you knew that, why did you imply that the floor models didn’t change because the store made no legitimate sales?” Damian barked, his fury building back.

“Because sitting here all day doing nothing is mind numbing and riling you up is the only break I have from the monotony,” Tim deadpanned.

Damian made a strangled whistling sound in the back of his throat like a teakettle getting ready to boil. Dick swept in, turning Damian with a gentle press of his shoulder to get him to focus on him instead of Tim. See again, bloody nose / busted lip encounter.

“We’re just a showroom. All the actual product is stored in warehouses. People come here to try out the mattresses and make the payment and then we coordinate the delivery with the warehouse. That’s all. Nothing nefarious there,” Dick explained with his best soothing manager smile and voice. It didn’t usually work on customers, no matter how much Mr. Wayne assured Dick that he was very reassuring and charming. Luckily, Damian was still eleven and so it seemed to soothe him well enough.

“So, then there is a reasonable explanation for everything. This store is not a front,” Damian mumbled, sticking out his lower lip in a mulish expression as he seemed to turn all this information over in his head.

“Who said this store was a front?” a rumbling voice asked from the front door, the bell chiming halfway through the sentence.

Dick turned around to see his boss, the regional manager of Mattress Deals, Mr. Wayne, walking through the front door. He looked tired and harried, but that was his default expression.

“Father!” Damian exclaimed in excitement. He dodged around Dick and seemed ready to throw himself at his father’s middle, but apparently caught himself a bare second before he launched himself off the ground. He balanced on the balls of his feet for a fraught second, while Mr. Wayne put out his arms to catch him in case he toppled. But, Damian found his balance and bounced back into a straight backed stance and quickly tucked his hands into the small of his back.

In a much more somber (if somewhat embarrassed) tone, he said, “Father, you have returned early.”

Mr. Wayne very slowly moved his hands from where they hand been held out to catch Damian, one going to the back of his head to mess up his already ruffled dark hair and the other to his hip. It was an awkward movement that didn’t fool anyone and seemed completely for Damian’s benefit.

“Yes…” he said slowly, then blinked and seemed to come back to his normal monotone. “Yes, I had intended to do a quarterly evaluation of the east side store today, but it burnt down.”

“What?” Jason laughed, elated.

“What?!” Dick gasped, aghast.

“Fucking unfair,” Tim muttered to his phone screen. “Some bitches have all the luck.”

“Yes… Well,” Mr. Wayne said awkwardly. “The police are investigating it as a case of suspected arson. I’m sure they have it well in hand. In the mean time, I can’t very well assess their finances if all their paper records just went up in smoke.”

“Geez, did everyone get out okay?” Dick asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he nervously considered all the planes of foam and fabric surrounding them.

“Yes, everyone evacuated before smoke was even detected. Someone pulled the fire alarm,” Mr. Wayne said, putting a reassuring hand on Dick’s shoulder.

“Hence, the suspected arson,” Tim sighed.

“Yes,” Mr. Wayne agreed with a frown.

“I guess a mattress store would catch fire pretty quickly,” Dick said slowly and uncertainly.

“Mattresses are actually treated to be highly flame retardant,” Mr. Wayne recited dryly. “The internal layers are interspersed with flame retardant material and some fabrics are treated with boric acid to make them more flame resistant.” Turning to Tim, he added darkly, “The fire started in the break room and didn’t spread much further.”

“And those ungrateful bastards even had a break room,” Tim hissed back theatrically.

Tossing Tim a wry smile, Mr. Wayne put an arm around Damian’s shoulder. His small son, proud though he was, seemed to soak in the affection, leaning into his father’s side unselfconsciously. He led him back to the desk and helped him start to pack away his homework supplies.

“We were just discussing how all mattress stores are a front,” Jason said with a mischievous grin as he lounged on the chili stained mattress that Dick was realizing was the one he usually sat on if the desk was occupied. It was also the mattress that Dick had to clean most often out of all the ones in the store.

Mr. Wayne’s mouth pulled into a similar smile at the leading statement. “I think looking in from outside it makes sense,” he said slowly. “But, that’s only because people don’t understand how incredibly lucrative mattress sales are.”

“I did not know that, Father,” Damian said stiffly, a textbook clutched to his chest. He stared up at Mr. Wayne with restrained curiosity as his father tucked his unaccountably cute dog patterned pencils into his also incredibly cute cat patterned pencil case.

“Oh, yes. Mattresses enjoy the highest markup of all furniture items,” Mr. Wayne explained as he continued to pack his son’s school supplies away. “A mattress usually costs between $75-$150 to manufacture, because the materials used are very cheap. However, because it’s a purchase that most consumers only have to go through every ten years or so, because it’s a purchase they likely have put off until they have to get a mattress quickly, and because the used market is practically non-existent, mattress sellers can basically pick their price point.”

“That is…” Damian’s face was making some entertaining fluctuations between horrified and impressed.

“Almost criminal,” Tim added when it didn’t look like Damian would come up with anything.

“My father is not a criminal!” Damian was quick to snap.

“Well,” Mr. Wayne said with a shrug. “That’s business, I think.”

Tim snorted and let himself slide off the mattress and onto the nasty carpet below.

“And, we can all be grateful for it, because it’s the reason we all have a job! Right, guys?” Dick said loudly.

“Yes, boss,” Jason and Tim chorused like two recalcitrant school children.

“And I, as always, am grateful for all the great work you all put in. Keep up the good work and please do not burn the place down,” Mr. Wayne said with a long suffering laugh.

“You got it, boss,” Dick said with a laugh.

“Apparently these bitches don’t burn anyway,” Jason said with a suspicious look at the mattress he was sitting on.

“Get us a break room and I’ll think about it,” Tim said from the floor.

“It was lovely talking to you all. Dick, feel free to close up early if business is dead,” Mr. Wayne said with a sympathetic glance around the empty storefront.

“Sir, yes sir,” Dick said with an enthusiastic salute.

“What do you say to take out for dinner?” Mr. Wayne asked Damian with an indulgent look down at his little scowling face.

His big green eyes got bigger. “From White Elephant?” he asked hopefully.

“I can never say no to their samosas,” Mr. Wayne agreed with a pleased grin.

Damian practically skipped out the front door, his father following behind him with his son’s small red backpack slung over his forearm.

The second the door closed, Tim’s head popped up from below a nearby mattress. Dick suppressed an unmanly screech only at the last second. That was not the mattress that Tim had slid off of. How had he gotten so close so quietly?

“So… We’re closing now right?” he asked with a face that said he absolutely saw Dick flinch.

“Guys, it’s not even four,” Dick sighed. “Tim, you’ve been here for like an hour.”

“But, you’ll pay me for my whole shift, right?” Tim asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I want to go see the Barbie movie before it leaves theaters,” Jason put in.

“You’ve already seen it like a dozen times,” Dick said aghast.

“It’s a feast for the eyes! A distillation of our culture! A tour de force-” Jason began to go off.

“Let the man see his Barbie movie, Dick!” Tim shouted from somewhere around Dick’s ankles.

“Oh my god!” Dick groaned at the ceiling. A sad gray water damaged ceiling tile looked back at him indifferently, like the uncaring god that put him in charge of these two fuckos. “Okay, god. Yes. Go.”

“Finally!” Jason exclaimed and jumped to his feet, shoving his paperback into his back pocket and already making his way toward the exit.

“Yay~” Tim sang somehow making it sound like the most sarcastic yay that any teenager had ever said. Dick didn’t see him emerge until he popped to his feet a few feet from the glass doors.

After the two of them had disappeared out the front door, Dick walked around trying to clean up and put things away. Not that there was much to tidy. They hadn’t had a customer all day.

As he was straightening up the small desk in the back, he laid eyes on the old desk lamp. It was a classic with a basic incandescent bulb, the kind that got pretty hot after you left it on for a while.

Dick stared at it thoughtfully. He looked back at the chili stained mattress beside the desk. The mattress was so close to the desk that if someone bumped the desk hard enough, the lamp could easily fall onto the mattress.

As Dick stepped out of the front door for the night, he looked back at the mattress, the bright desk lamp glowing faintly where the bulb lay right against that damn chili stain.

“We’ll see how flame retardant you are,” he muttered. Then, he turned and locked the door behind him before sprinting for his car. He wondered if Barbara would want to make up with him that night. He could always buy some nice flowers and chocolates and give it a try.

#batfam #fanfiction #alternate universe #no capes au #mattress store au #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #money laundering #kittywrites

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 2 months

Text

Flying/Dream to Believe (2 parter - part 2) (TW: mention of gore/fighting/rage/bullying)(mostly sfw)

@gea-chan96

Part two.

If there’s one place I absolutely hate with a passion, it’s the cafeteria.

I’d rather be in gym class than here, sitting alone and pushing my soggy noodles around a styrofoam plate. Surrounded by loud, rowdy peers that sometimes feel the need to make fun of me. Something about food and chubby people just don’t mix, apparently, so I get a lot of “is that your fifth tray?” Or “slow down, Hoss.”

Understandably, after I rearranged Nate’s face, there has been less and less of that. Now I just get ignored a lot. Which is better, but still not great.

Today, however, it’s different. Tommy and Leo plop down at my table like they’ve been sitting there the whole semester.

“What are you doing?” I ask them, and I can’t help my dry, uninterested, downright bitchy tone.

Tommy gives me this kicked puppy pout, which makes me feel really bad about my attitude problem that lingers from this morning when my family told me if I didn’t join gymnastics then I was taking a job at Uncle Vic’s antique store.

I hate dolls, especially old porcelain ones. It would be a bad experience.

Speaking of porcelain dolls, Stacy and Leah also take a seat at my table, which scares the shit out of me. Sure, I can punch a buff football guy in his mouth, but these two tiny gymnasts make me want to melt into the floor.

Leah saddles up to Leo, rubbing his shoulder and being flirty. Stacy does the same thing to Tommy. I hope I’m hiding the disgusting scowl on my face at this display, but I highly doubt that I am.

“Hey, y/n,” Leah says, playing with Leo’s hair, “I heard you’re joining the gymnastics team?”

Both of them give this melodic, chiming, grating laugh. Tinkerbell bitches. But, I realize something in that moment. I’m not afraid of Stacy and Leah; I’m afraid of what Stacy and Leah will make me angry enough to do to them.

“My mom is making me,” I say.

“No offense, but aren’t you a little large to do the stuff we do?” Stacy asks, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

I look at him, expecting his face to be red and blushing, drooling like an idiot over Stacy - smitten and dumb, but Tommy, instead, is staring at me apologetically, like he feels bad?

I would have preferred the smitten look. Anger spikes my brain. I don’t need pity, I need revenge. “The stuff you do?” I don’t even recognize my own voice. It sounds more like something off Discovery Channel predator week. “You mean prance around putting everyone else down because you hate yourself and not even being that good at gymnastics in the first place? That the stuff you’re talking about, Stacy?”

Her face puffs up like a blowfish, and I feel myself smiling - this sinister, numb curl of my lips that just happens on its own while she turns purple and furious.

Aw, someone’s mad.

“Listen, you fat bitch - “

“No. You listen, Leah.” I look back at Tommy, whose usually soft face is pulled into something kind of…. scary. “Y/n is actually pretty cool, and you’d know that if you stopped being a spoiled, bitchy princess for a few seconds of your miserable existence and just talked to her.”

For a second, the collective table just looks at him while he goes knives out and directs it all at Leah. She shrinks under his gaze. Stacy’s hand drops off his shoulder and she scoots away. Even I’m kind of.. what’s the word? Not scared, exactly. Thrilled? Yeah, I think that’s it.

The chocolate lab is actually a rottweiler? What a turn of events.

Leo is also looking at Tommy like he’s seeing him for the first time.

Leah goes from scared to scowling. “I’d watch your mouth Tommy, or Mark will kick your ass.”

“Go get him,” Tommy nods, “let’s see.”

“Tommy,” I say his name, hoping to diffuse this.

He turns to me, and I expect him to keep the scowl, but he trades it for a kind smile. “It’s cool, y/n, let me handle these jealous bitches.” The last word ends on a curled horn point as he flips around to pin Leah with his psycho glare again.

“There a problem here, Tommy?” Right on cue, Mark steps up to our table like some kind of bouncer at club high school cafeteria. Jesus, not Prince Charming here, too.

“I think you should teach him a lesson, Mark,” Stacy says, grabbing Mark’s hand and standing beside him like she’s the First Lady and we are mere peons.

I can’t help it that my eyes are rolling.

“Yeah, there’s actually two problems,” Tommy tells Mark, also standing up to face him. And if I was mark, and mark was smart, personally I’d be a bit intimidated. Tommy’s got some height and bulk on him.

However, Mark is failing four subjects for a reason - he puffs out his chest, and stands toe to toe with Tommy.

Ugh, boys.

“Hey, you two.” Mr. Alan is walking towards our table, yelling and drawing the attention of the few people in the crowd we haven’t interested yet.

And I was actually starting to like being ignored.

“I suggest you boys agree to disagree before you both land yourselves in detention.”

Neither one of them even look at the teacher - they’re too busy staring one another down.

Mr. Alan places a warning hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Warneki, you hear me?”

The little standoff breaks up, but something in the way that they maintain eye contact even after Mark sits down across the cafeteria tells me it isn’t over.

“Hey,” I tell Tommy, “I don’t need your help, you know that?”

Tommy shrugs, looking at his milk carton instead of me. “Too bad.”

I start to open my mouth to say something to him, but he’s already up out of his seat and slamming through the cafeteria doors.

Leo sighs. “What crawled up his ass?”

I don’t see Tommy for the rest of the day, and it’s making me feel like a total shitbag. What kind of ungrateful person says that to someone after they just defended them?

Sure, to me it may have seemed like he was doing it out of pity, or to keep up appearances, but Tommy probably really did just want to defend his new friend.

And now he’s going to hate me. Awesome. This just proves the fact that I’m hard to get along with. The report cards and my dad are right.

Without Tommy, Leo and I don’t really have common ground, so we part ways awkwardly and don’t talk for the rest of the day. I’m isolated again because I can’t keep my fat mouth shut. Fantastic.

It’s a cool autumn day on my walk home from school, and I have my hands shoved in my pockets to keep them warm. I try to stop thinking about the friendships I could’ve had, but maybe my loner facade has finally come to an end, because I am pretty upset. There’s this heavy feeling in my ribs that makes me understand the term ‘heartache’ more than I’d like to.

I hear yelling from somewhere down the block. Sounds like a group of my classmates are antagonizing a fight. It makes sense - the shouts are coming from the old sugar plant, and that’s where people go for scheduled brawls. I punched Nate on the bus, because I don’t need plans, only my fists and rage.

I’m surprised no one has called the cops on these idiots yet. Has to be a big fight by the sounds of it, and the surrounding neighborhood is a village for older folks, so the cops usually do break it up sooner rather than later.

Tommy’s dad - one of the guys on the police force - got his arm broken last year when a kid tried to smash another kids head in and his foot accidentally landed on Mr. Warneki’s arm instead. I remember it was the only thing everyone could talk about at school the next day.

Tommy. I sigh, kick a rock, hoping it will bring me some sense of peace like it does in the movies, but I just feel bad still. Wait. Tommy. Mark. The fight.

I look down the street leading to the old building, trying to catch some of the words that the yelling voices are saying. Shit. Is Tommy fighting Mark?

I book it as fast as I can, which isn’t very fast at all.

By the time I make it to the crowd, I have to shoulder through to the middle, where Tommy is sitting on top of Mark and hitting him in the face - that’s a lot of blood. I’m not thinking about anything but this idiot going to jail when I tackle him off of the smaller guy.

He grabs me, too, and I fall on top of him, probably breaking his ribs and maybe his pointy pelvis while I’m at it.

But he doesn’t seem broken. He looks up at me, sweaty and red faced and mad - at first. Then, his face gets calmer, and he smiles. “Oh, hey, y/n.”

I don’t know what to say to him, so I roll off his body and land ass on ground, rubble digging through my jeans.

He sits up, still smiling pleasantly at me as if I’m not a huge asshole.

“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else I can say.

“It’s fine,” Tommy says, waving me off. “I got it.”

Mark is still lying on the ground, and I would think that he’s dead if it wasn’t for the low groans of pain rolling from his swollen lips.

“Your dad’s gonna kill you, Tommy,” I tell him, looking away from the bloody scene.

I’m wrong, his dad does worse. He takes him, in handcuffs, down to the station where the rest of the group are gathered for questioning. Apparently Mark is not here because an ambulance took him away.

“He was crying like a bitch,” Amber says, making me cringe. Stacy and Leah are on the opposite side of the room, surprisingly not glaring or scowling at me. Not even looking my way at all. Strange.

When Tommy walks in with his hands cuffed behind his back, his dad leading him through the crowd, he looks at me and gives me a big, toothy grin.

I should think he’s a total idiot. I should be mad that he decided to play knight. I should be annoyed that he’s acting like he’s top dog. And I am all those things, but I’m also…. I’m flattered. I feel liked. I understand why he’s the usual hot topic of the girls in the locker room. I get why the popular crowd doesn’t pick on him. He’s actually a pretty good guy.

Man, I really hope he doesn’t go to Juvie or prison or something - that would suck for my conscience.

It takes almost all evening for the cops to talk to each one of us. I decide to tell them about Mark and Tommy in the lunch room, hoping that will help the big idiot’s case a little bit.

After I’m released, the sun is down and the heavy wind scatters colorful leaves across my shoes.

“Hey, y/n.” I turn around to see Tommy sitting on a sidewalk bench.

Oh, well, at least he’s free to go. I walk up and sit beside him. “You know,” I say, “you’re alright, Tommy.”

He giggles. “Well thanks. Same to you.”

“How’d it feel to hit him?” I ask, kinda wishing it was me that got to do it.

“Felt like I understood why you liked punching Nate.”

He makes me laugh. “Yeah. I am sorry, though. Are we still….. friends?” I keep telling myself that if he chooses to say no, I’ll be okay with it, but I feel my heart tearing at its seams already in anticipation of that.

He looks confused. “What? Yeah, of course.”

I try to not smile so big at him. I really do. But, I’m actually delighted. “Oh, cool.”

His grin is worrying. I only have a second to wonder what the cheeky look is for until he’s pulling me under his arm and messing up my hair. “Aw, you thought you could get rid of me?”

I roll my eyes, keep the smile that’s just getting bigger despite his gentle bullying, and grumble, “can you be anymore annoying?”

“Absolutely.”

#keanuverse #flying #dream to believe #chubby reader #plus size reader #fic requests

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messrmoonyy · 1 year

Note

Hiya! Can I request either a one shot of Layla and a shy reader? Reader invites her out on a date but doesn’t specifically say it’s a date because they are so timid. So Layla only realizes that it’s a date halfway through. OR hcs about what Layla is like when she realizes she’s in love with you. Whichever interests you more :3

A date. Of sorts

Layla El-Faouly x afab reader

A/N- Hello my sweet anon! I absolutely did both because my love for Layla El-Faouly knows no bounds. Sorry this took way. Way. longer than expected I accidentally deleted it when I finshed it and had to re write it all 😩 the hcs are over on my masterlist and were posted forvever ago. This is my first full layla os but I hope you enjoy <3

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: none. It’s fluff. Tooth rotting.

Masterlist- requests are open! <3

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

You were woken up by the sound of your phone ringing. At first you didn’t fully acknowledge it, rolling over to the other side of the bed and guessing it was more than likely just in your dream. But then it started up again and you realised it was in fact your phone, you rolled back and picked it up just before it finished ringing.

“ hello? “ you mumbled as you held it to to your ear, not even looking at who it was that was calling, your eyes still half closed.

“ well hello to you sleepy head “ your eyes opened fully at the sound of her voice, butterflies erupting in your stomach the way that they always did whenever you spoke to her.

“ lay- Layla. Hi? “ she chuckled over the phone as you tried to shake the sleep away from your head. What time was it?

“ where are you it’s 10am? “

“ what? We’re closed today “ you mumbled and let your head drop back down into your pillow, your eyes falling closed again, still holding the phone to your ear.

“ you know what day it is? “ you frowned at the odd question. Of course you did. That’s why you hadn’t moved from bed yet and had no stress about going to bed early the previous night. In fact you’d been up until almost 4.

“ what? “

“ my gods. Y/N. It’s stock count day! The whole reason we are closed. You said you’d help “ you could practically hear her pouting at you through the phone. You groaned and rubbed at your forehead, a headache starting to make itself apparent behind your eyes “ please? “

“ give me half an hour? 45 minutes tops?“

“ life saver! See you soon “ you tossed your phone to the end your bed with a groan. Rubbing at your eyes to wipe away the sleep. It’s not like you had any real plans for today, you had agreed to help her out. And you could think of worst ways to spend the day.

You’d had a crush on Layla ever since she’d started working at the antiques store with you. The day she’d come in searching for a job you’d simply froze in her presence.

“ hey! I was wondering if there were any jobs available here I have a lot of experience “ you’d been like a deer in headlights. No one really ever came in and when they did it was older people, or the odd hipster trying to seem quirky and different by shopping for antiques. Never someone like her. You’d not even managed a word, simply squeaked and scurried off into the back for your manager.

You hadn’t actually managed a conversation with her until 2 weeks of her being there. Even now you struggled sometimes. When you couldn’t see her it wasn’t so bad, you would have long conversations on the phone often. Even if you were mostly listening. But in person? She was far too overwhelming.

How did anyone have the ability to stand in her presence and simply just… be okay? She was like one of the Egyptian goddesses she seemed so interested in, beauty beyond anything of a mere mortal.

Though maybe you were over exaggerating. But then again. Maybe not.

You rolled out of bed and shuffled over to your bathroom to wake yourself up with a shower, trying to be as fast as possible to not keep Layla waiting. The entire process passing by in a half asleep daze.

Your body still seemed reluctant to be up and moving though, so much so that it took you three attempts just to find the correct arm hole in your t shirt. And then you swore you tried every single key on your door before you found the right one.

So before you even attempted to navigate the tube, you headed for Starbucks. Knocking back your coffee before you even reached the platform, burning your mouth in the process. But at least it made you feel a little more awake.

Thankfully the world seemed to be on your side, the tube ride smooth as could be with not as many tourists popping themselves in awkward places like normal. You didn’t know how many times you’d accidentally walked into someone trying to decipher a tube map, parking themselves right in the way of everyone.

Your little lie in actually was quite the lifesaver though, meaning you’d missed the vast majority of the rush hour crowd. Of course it was busy, you didn’t think you’d ever actually seen London… quiet. But you weren’t sandwiched up against a bunch of strangers at least. You actually had a space mostly to yourself. There was even an empty seat but you thought you’d probably just drop off again if you sat down.

So you stayed standing, it wasn’t a long journey anyway. And it provided more people watching opportunities. You’d always kept yourself to yourself, always on the quieter and more timid side your entire life. So you’d grown pretty good at reading people.

And the tube was full of… interesting people to look at.

There was always at least one person reading. Usually a dog of some kind tucked in someone’s arms too. Sometimes both. Business men in suits, someone talking too loud on their phone, couples giving far too much pda, a whole array of languages and accents. Maybe a tiny part of you actually enjoyed the tube.

You did feel slightly envious of people sometimes. When you’d see people so clearly more confident and comfortable in their skin than you. Happy to take up space and be heard. The couples too, so unapologetically in love with each other that they didn’t care about where they were or who saw them. It did make you feel a little lonely sometimes.

When you stepped off in Shoreditch you felt far more awake.

You always felt a little out of place in Shoreditch, not even remotely cool enough to be walking around there never mind working. But then again, the antique store you worked in didn’t particularly fit in either. So it was quite the match when you thought about it.

You popped into Costa before heading to the store, grabbing yourself something a little less caffeine based. You were nervous enough around Layla as it was never mind adding coffee shakes to the mix. And grabbed something for Layla too. Before finally heading to work a little later than planned.

You pushed open the stiff door of the shop, balancing the drinks as you did. The door itself was practically antique you were certain it had never been changed and that one day it would just stick completely, locking you in or out.

She was no where in sight as you closed the door, the tiny brass bell above it tinkling to signal someone had come inside. The little portable radio was on quietly behind the counter, slightly staticky because it was almost impossible to get a decent signal. It seemed to be half way between two stations. Take that overlapping with stormzy in some odd mash up.

“ there she is! Better late than never sleeping beauty “ Layla appeared from the back room, clearly hearing the bell as you’d entered the shop. She looked as beautiful as ever, her beaming smile made you weak in the knees. You were silently thankful you’d not opted for another coffee after all.

“ sorry I’m late “ she waved a hand as if to dismiss the apology and walked around the counter “ I got you a drink “

“ ooo thank you “ She pulled you in for a quick squeeze of a hug. She enveloped you in a mist of her perfume and shampoo, vanilla and coconut clouding your senses like a drug. Her soft curls tickling your cheek, her hands pressed firmly to your back. You were a total goner. Completely.

“ no problem “ you said quietly as she picked up the cup and drank almost half of it in one go “ thirsty? “

“ I’ve been here since 7! “ she said with a small laugh and stifled a yawn as if to prove the point “ someone was still snoozing at that point “ she teased, pulling a little notepad from the back pocket of her jeans “ I’ve done most of the backstock. We just need to take note of everything on the shop floor. Shouldn’t take us too long “

“ I’m sorry. It just completely slipped my mind “ she gave a small smile and squeezed your arm softly.

“ don’t. It’s fine. I think I’m more productive alone actually. No distractions “ she caught your eye for the briefest second before letting go.

You took half the shop each, taking note of every item the shop had to offer. You wished the system was more efficient. But your boss seemed to want to keep not only the stock antique, but the stocking systems too. You kept glancing over at her as you took note of everything in the silvers cabinet, half hiding behind the cabinet and a silver jug as not to be caught.

But she never seemed to notice you looking. Always oblivious to what you thought was your obvious staring and lovestruck gazes, your stutters and inability to form sentences around her most of the time. Maybe she just put it down to your nervous nature. Which you guessed half of it was in a way.

She reached up to count the pieces of a hand painted dinnerware set, her jumper riding up slightly and exposing a sliver of her skin. You had to look away, your cheeks flushing pink. Pathetic.

When you reached the artwork section your brain started wondering again, looking at one particular piece depicting two girls on a picnic in beautiful flowing dresses. You wondered if they were friends or something more. Old art had a habit of showing women so clearly in love but marking them as friends. Women in intimate and close encounters but descriptions stating that was simply how intimacy worked in that era.

It made you look over at her again.

You knew she liked girls, she’d mentioned it in passing once or twice. Small mentions of an ex girlfriend or a failed date. But you also knew she’d been married to a man. Part of you wondered if she was just one of those girls who only said they liked girls, thinking it was some way to make herself seem more appealing and quirky.

She was too kind, too gentle, too… perfect to be like that though. Wasn’t she? You turned back to the artwork, imagining some perfect date like the one in the paint like that with her. If anything it would be a perfect choice simply because it was relatively stress free. Picnics were relaxing. Calm. Not an anxiety attack trigger in sight.

And it might not even totally come across as a date… in fact she wouldn’t even have to know. You could simply…. Test the waters as it were. Just two friends. Having a picnic. Just like the piece of art.

But having the courage to actually ask her? That was going to take some working up to.

“ almost done over there? “ you startled as Layla called you from the other side of the shop, looking over at you with a smile and leaning back to see you from behind a cabinet.

“ I- yeah. Yeah nearly done “ you made haste and finished taking note of everything on your side of the shop, making sure every piece of an old chess set was there when Layla joined you again.

“ boo “ her voiced was soft, right by your ear and fingers poking at your sides. You startled more at her closeness than her actually making you jump, her warm breath against your skin sending a trail of goosebumps across your arms. Heat rose up your neck and blossomed across your cheeks. You wanted her fingers to dance across those goosebumps, read your skin like brail and understand your feeling without even having to say it.

If only.

“ hey “ you said quietly, softly clearing you throat in hopes she hadn’t noticed your nerves at her closeness.

“ hungry? I’m starved “ she draped an arm over your shoulder the other on her hip and moved next to you, looking down at your notebook. If anyone looked through the windows now they might think you were a couple. You kinda liked that “ just one shelf left to do? “

“ yes “

“ right. I’m gonna go get us some lunch then…. Jolenes? I think we deserve some pastries, don’t you? “ you chanced a look up at her, very much gazing like some lovestruck teenager. She gave you a warm smile, eyes crinkling at the edges and nose scrunching slightly

“ yeah. Sounds good. Pastries “ her smile grew and she gave you a squeeze before letting you go, heading behind the counter and grabbing her bag.

“ right. You get that final shelf done. I’ll go get us some treats. I’ll be like 10 minutes okay? “ you nodded and watched as she fished around her bag for her purse before heading for the door “ get working, you! You’ve got the time it takes me to go get food and get back. If you’re not done I’ll eat yours “ she disappeared out the door with a wink.

You finished the last shelf with a goofy smile on your face, practically floating on air, the same way you always did whenever she paid you any kind of attention that might prove more than just being friendly.

In fact something seemed to click in your brain and all of a sudden you had decided. You would ask her on that picnic. You would. She didn’t have to know it was a date, didn’t have to know your feelings. Your intentions. All she had to know was two people who were friends, having a friendly picnic dinner. That was all.

You would do it. You would do it. It would be easy. Easier than you thought.

‘ hi layla. Want to go on a picnic with me? ‘

‘ layla did you wanna come to the park with me tomorrow? Picnic and the outdoor cinema? ‘

‘ layla. Let’s go to the outdoor cinema with a picnic tomorrow! ‘

You internally groaned at how stupid you sounded, and you hadn’t even said them out loud. You sighed and took note of the remaining items on the shelf.

“ Layla. I was wondering if you wanted to go to the park tomorrow- no…. Layla! Fancy a picnic tomorrow? “ you placed your notebook down with a frustrated sigh “ Layla. Do you like the movie Grease?- everyone fucking likes Grease come on “ you would’ve sounded like a mad woman if anyone entered the shop now “ Layla. The outdoor cinema is running tomorrow. Shall we go? Let’s take a picnic?… not bad not bad “ You made your way back to the counter, now that your side of the shop had been accounted for “ Layla… “

“ yes? “ you dropped your pen as she returned, paper bag in one hand and cup holder of drinks in the other, pushing the door open with her hip and elbow.

“ oh! N-nothing. Talking to myself “ you hurried over to pull the door further open for her.

“ first sign of madness “ she said with a cheeky smile and headed for the counter “ hot chocolate. Almond croissant, lemon muffin “ she said as she opened the paper bag, handing over smaller paper bags to you. You smiled and took the paper cup from her too.

“ thank you “ she rummaged around the bag for her own food, taking a bite into a pain au chocolat with a sigh.

“ gods I’m so hungry “ she practically moaned, taking another big bite. You smiled into your cup, taking a sip of the hot chocolate and feeling your stomach grumble in response.

You were both quiet as you ate your treats, Layla double checking over her notebook and occasionally swiping away pastry crumbs.

You thought about your plans to ask her out. Feeling more relaxed in that moment than you had been all day, a calm atmosphere between you. Comfortable. Barely any butterflies fluttering around in your chest.

“ Layla “ you said softly spurring through it before you could lose the tiny bit of courage you’d found, fiddling slightly with the paper bag your muffin had come in.

“ hmm? “ she glanced up at you, big brown eyes full of kindness and care the same way they always were. You were speechless again, words refusing to form in your mouth now that you were looking her right in the eyes “ y/n?”

‘ I think I’m in love with you would you go on a date with me? Please? ‘

You wished you could say it. Wished you had the balls to just tell her. Instead your mouth just opened and closed a couple of times. You probably looked like an idiot.

“ are you okay? “ she asked with some concern filtering into her words, her hand gently falling on your wrist.

“ I- would you maybe. I mean only if you want- like. I mean- fuck “ your cheeks burned as you failed to even form the sentence you’d been practicing. You felt completely useless.

“ you’re being weird “ Layla said with a raised eyebrow.

“ m’ always weird “ you tried with a slight smile. It made a smile blossom on Laylas face too, the kind that made the corners of her eyes crinkle, the kind that made you want to melt into a puddle on the ground. She playfully nudged your arm and propped her elbow on the counter, chin in the palm of her hand.

“ come on what’s wrong, why are you getting flustered. It’s just me. Remember what I told you, deep breath in your nose, out slowly through your mouth. Gather your thoughts. And try again. You got this “ she was always so kind. So gentle.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, taking her advice and taking a breath.

“ there’s. There’s this picnic in the park thing happening tomorrow. They’re doing this projector movie and you take a blanket and food and. I was just. Well- do you want to… would you maybe like to go? “ you waited for the frown or the excuse as to why she couldn’t make it. But Instead she smiled and nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing around her head.

“ that sounds amazing! Yeah I’ll go with you “ she flipped her notebook closed and picked it up “ come on then let’s get this all finished. don’t wanna be here all day do we “ you watched slightly dumbstruck as she linked her arms with yours and you stumbled slightly as she lead you into the back room for the final checks. She was acting as if it was a totally normal thing to have been asked and you still couldn’t quite believe she had said yes.

But maybe the idea that she may think it was simply just a friends thing was working? Either way. You had a date with Layla and that was both exciting and terrifying as all hell.

You’d never been more nervous in your life as you tried to find a decent outfit for your date. It was silly because Layla didnt even think it was a date, you shouldn’t be treating it as one even if that had been the intention all along.

You looked at the piles of clothes scattering your bed, all the choices you’d decided against before sighing and closing your eyes. You took a deep breath in some attempt to relax before looking back at yourself in the mirror. You looked nice. Not too smart. Not too casual.

You’d been preparing all day, up since 6 with too much nervous energy to sleep any longer. You’d nipped out to get a whole array of snacks and nibbles for your picnic, stopping at a flower seller on the corner on the way home too. Whether or not you’d actually give her the flowers was a whole new story. But you’d brought them all the same.

You wondered what she’d be wearing. If you were too over dressed. Or under dressed. It was silly. This was Layla. She wasn’t going to judge you for something as ficcle as clothes. You were being silly. Over thinking. Getting in your head.

There was a knock on the door and your heart started hammering in your chest. The outfit you had on would have to do.

“ one second! “ you called and headed into the kitchenette to grab the tote bag full of snacks for your picnic, hesitating before carefully putting in the small bunch of flowers too. Hidden so that if you didn’t get brave enough to give them to her she’d never have to know they’d even existed.

You were over thinking things far too much. You shook your head and headed for the front door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

“ Hey! Oh you look nice “ she greeted, beaming smile on her face. You froze, unable to say anything to her “ I brought a blanket and some drinks, like we said. You got the snacks? “ you nodded, still unable to talk as you very blatantly stared at her. She was so. Beautiful. How on earth were you even going to make it through the evening with her looking like that?

It wasn’t like she was even in anything fancy, she just…. Looked nice “ you okay? Y/n? “ she placed a hand on your shoulder, a warm smile on her face. She was going to be the death of you.

“ yeah. Yeah I’m okay. Tired “ she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as you said it, sympathy in her eyes

“ fresh air will wake you up. Come on let’s go we don’t wanna miss the start of the movie “ you locked the door to your flat and followed her to the stairs. The lift in your flats hadn’t worked for months now.

A part of you wondered if she knew your secret intentions, knew your fear to ask her outright on a date. You hoped not. She probably just thought it was exactly what it seemed, two friends going out together.

“ did you… did you have a nice day? “ you asked, in some attempt to calm your nerves with some normal conversation.

“ yeah it was fine. Nothing too exciting. You? “ I spent the whole day panicking about our date that you don’t know is a date and did literally nothing productive. It was great!

“ nothing really “ she smiled and you both fell quiet for a few moments. You were stood so close together her hand was brushing against yours as you walked and it was making your cheeks flush.

You wanted to hold her hand. You wondered if it was soft and smooth or rough with the years she had spent at dig sites in Egypt. If it would fit nicely in your own.

“ oh careful! “ in your daydreaming you hadn’t been paying attention to your surroundings, almost walking right into a lamppost. She grabbed onto your hand and tugged you around it with a laugh and a shake of her head “ you’re away with the fairies today! “ she laughed and squeezed your hand lightly. It was as if she’d read your mind.

“ sorry “ you practically choked on your embarrassment but she just squeezed your hand again and beamed at you.

“ come on let’s get to this movie before you get yourself into mischief “ you noticed as you walked she didn’t drop your hand. Kept it firmly in her own as she walked down the street in her usual confident strides. Maybe she knew you wanted to hold her hand. Maybe you’d been staring. Either way you didn’t really mind.

You made it to the park just as the movie was starting. She found a empty spot in the grass and laid down the blanket, both of you spreading out the drinks and snacks you’d brought with you.

You looked at the flowers in the bag and debated for a moment before taking them out and clearing your throat.

“ erm… Layla “

“ hmm? “ she asked, half looking away from the movie.

“ for you? “ it came out as more of a question than a statement. But you’d gained the confidence to even take them out of the bag. That was something. She turned fully to look at you, a questioning look blossoming into a smile as she saw the small bunch of flowers in your hands.

“ really? “ she asked gently, taking them from your hands “ they’re lovely, y/n “ she pulled you in for a hug, careful not squish the flowers between you. Her perfume flooded your nose and it somehow eased your nerves again.

You got that fluttering feeling in your chest again. As if a million butterflies had erupted out of your heart, filling your lungs so that it took your breath away. She took your breath away.

You barely watched the movie. You watched her. Completely and utterly enamoured by her as you always were, looking away any time she glanced over at you and hoping she hadn’t caught you. Looking particularly interested in the hummus and carrots and hoping your cheeks werent too bright. It seemed to work for the most part.

She sang along to the songs, nodding her head along to the beat, curls bouncing around her face in a way that was mesmerising. You felt as though you should be trying to make some kind of conversation with her, ask her about her dating life? isn’t that what happened on dates?

“ would. Would you ever date anyone like Danny? “ you asked and laughed a little, planning to play it off as a joke if she found it weird.

“ no way. He’s awful to her most of the time! “ you nodded and pushed a mini sausage roll around on your paper plate

“ who would you then? Date I mean? “ she shrugged, still watching the screen intently

“ someone kind. That’s boring isn’t it? But it’s what I want. I’ve done the whole moody, brooding, tough guy type. Maybe I need a little change. Someone a little softer “ she glanced over at you and it flushed your cheeks red for the millionth time, causing you to focus back on your plate again.

“ your husband? He was like that? Moody? “

“ so moody “ she said with a sigh, still watching the screen “ and secretive “ you watched her face carefully, trying to decipher her exact thoughts. Trying to decide if it was longing or sadness you were hearing in her voice. Longing to have the man back or sadness that it was over, but at peace “ you can’t have a relationship that’s built on secrecy you know? It doesn’t work “

“ what secrets did he have? “ you didnt know why you were asking, you didn’t want to know about him really. The man that had managed to be able to call Layla his own. And had hurt her so badly

“ you wouldn’t believe me if I told you “ she said with a laugh and shrugged “ I have my own secrets too. But I like to think I’ll get to the point some day to tell someone, if I loved them. I thought I loved Marc and I thought he loved me but… so many secrets “ you cautiously reached over and squeezed her hand lightly and she smiled “ don’t worry I’m fine. Over it. Besides got my eye on someone new “

Your heart sank. It felt as though it were made of lead, plummeting from your chest and weighing heavily in your stomach. You dropped her hand and reached for your drink, some attempt to hide your burning disappointment. Of course she liked someone. And no doubt they liked her back too. Of course

Layla didn’t seem to pick up on your upset, grinning at the screen as Sandy appeared after her make over “ she looks totally amazing but it’s sad she has to change for him isn’t it? “ you nodded “ she looks hot. But I think I liked her better before “

“ why? “ she shrugged again

“ quite. Kind. Caring… sweet. Not trying to prove anything to anyone. I like that “

“ I always thought that. When I was younger I loved Sandy I always felt a lot like her “ you tried your best to appear as normal as could be, ignoring your disappointment and heartbreak that Layla would soon be in work talking about someone that wasn’t you.

“ do me a favour? Never go get some hot biker make over then “ she said with a grin and nudged you with her arm. Humming along with the song “ I quite like you how you are, the ‘Sandra D’ type huh? “ you gave her a small smile and nodded

“ no pleather jumpssuits. Got it “

The movie ended and she offered to walk back with you, proudly carrying the flowers you felt stupid about bringing now.

You expected her to say goodbye at the door to your building but she insisted she walk you right to your door. Part of you just wanted her to leave, you wanted to cry into a pint of ice cream for the rest of the night about how stupid you were. But she was too kind. Too polite. Of course she wanted to ensure you got home safe.

As you reached your door you placed the food bag down and rummaged in your handbag for your keys.

“ thank you for co- “ as you looked back up to her, before you could even finish your sentence, she was pressing a soft kiss to your lips, so sudden it took you by surprise. You froze. Not even kissing her back right away, too In shock to even process what was going on.

Your eyes fluttered closed and she smiled against your lips, clearly feeling you relax slightly, a hand sliding to press against your lower bag and pull you in closer.

“ Layla- I… what? “ she giggled at your shock, nudging the backs of her fingers against your burning cheek as she pulled away. She simply shrugged.

“ most people end a date with a kiss. Why should we be any different? And you didn’t seem to be getting my hints “

“ date? What date I.. no this wasn’t- maybe it was but- when? “ she laughed again as you failed to string together a sentence for the second time in a row, brain foggy with the memory of her soft plump lips brushing against your own. You felt like melting into the floor below you. But she was more than used to it by now.

“ you had me at first I won’t lie to you. But the flowers? Very cute attempts at flirting? Is that why you were so nervous when you asked me? Cause it’s a date? Hm? “ it did feel like a weight off your shoulders honestly, you gave a small sigh as your shoulders physically relaxed under the metaphorical weight leaving.

“ yes “ you prepared yourself for the let down, for her to say it was sweet and all. But she didn’t like you like that. But instead she simply smiled and leant back in, lips brushing over yours, noses bumping slightly. And then she kissed you again.

You were thankful she seemed to know what she was doing far more than you, holding your face so gently in her hands whilst yours hung useless and slightly awkward in between you. It was how you’d always imagined it, her lips as soft as you’d thought, the slight taste of her coconut lip balm hovering in your mouth. When she pulled away the second time she placed another soft kiss to your nose before stepping back.

“ how about- “ Layla spoke again, brushing your hair away from your face gently “ I take you on a date next hmm? There’s this amazing restaurant in Hammersmith that does traditional Egyptian cuisine, it’s awesome. I can take you there? The Basbousa there will rot your teeth in the best way I promise “

you couldn’t quite find the words still, shock still rendering your voice useless as you realised Layla wanted to take you on date. You. Your feelings weren’t one sided. She did like you back. She did want to go on a date with you.

“ that’d be amazing “

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