Tumgik
#i miss making may day baskets
neopuppy · 8 months
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Angel Baby (M)
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pairing. alpha Jaemin x pregnant female omega reader
genre. *gasp* and they were neighbors AU, non-traditional ABO, single & pregnant y/n, fluff, smut, M/F
warnings. profanity, alpha/omega dynamics, ‘pup’ instead of ‘baby’, possible inaccuracies(writer has absolutely never been pregnant), pregnancy aches & cravings, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
wc. 8000
now playing. angel baby//Troye Sivan
smut warnings. unprotected sex, pregnant sex, lactation, use of ‘mama’ and ‘mommy’, breast fondling, fingering, oral, slick, painful orgasm(for Jaemin), etc
a/n. wanted to title this fic Orgasm Donor sooooooo bad, but tumblr whack these days
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“You know even though this is my first pregnancy, it’s not that bad.” You proudly nod, dipping another blue cheese filled olive into a cup of hazelnut spread. “I haven’t even been having those weird cravings everyones always going on about.”
Jaemin stops working on setting up his old coffee machine, shifting his gaze to watch you pop another olive coated with sweet cream in your mouth before you struggle to open a jar of pickles. “No weird cravings?”
“Nope.” You shrug, smiling triumphantly only to quickly fall into a frown as you squeeze around the jar more without budge. 
He hums, twisting around to grab the jar from your hands and open it himself, nodding and smiling as he passes it back to you. You thank him, whispering that you could have opened it before continuing to munch and dunk a pickle into the spread and proceed to pour coconut shavings on it. “That’s a good thing. What about that uh, morning sickness?”
“Haven’t really had that either.” You murmur between bites, lifting your hand to cover your mouth, your other reaching to rub your stomach. “Means I’m going to have a very sweet and calm pup.”
“How’s your back feeling today?” He asks, thinking about how you’d hissed and made a pained face yesterday while trying to pick up a basket of laundry. 
“Oh it’s..” putting on a smile, you wave him off. “—It’s fine, the doctor said my last trimester would be the hardest on my body.”
Jaemin turns back around to set the water cartridge in place for the coffee machine. He wants to add that your doctor also recommended staying off your feet, massages since you need to avoid hot water, and while it may be uncomfortable- try to stay off your back while sleeping. You always managed to change the subject whenever he attempted to mention a spa day to pamper yourself, or even offered his own hands to knead your tired feet.
“Offer still stands.” He reminds you, running the machine to clean it out. It’s only fair he sets it up anyway. It’s for him, since he’s been staying at your apartment longer than his own these days. “What about your Gochujang cravings?”
You instantly shy away, hiding your face to your shoulder demurely. The reminder of why and how Jaemin’s become such an integral part of your daily life always makes you feel embarrassed. “The tub I stole from you is nearly empty.”
“I’ll have to get you more next time I go to the store.”
Jaemin, while fond of the memory, also recalls it with embarrassment. It was 3 in the morning when he heard repeated light knocks that quickly escalated to heavier more determined knocks. He stumbled out of bed reaching for a hoodie to throw on and cover up his bare chest, slowly trudging down the hallway from his bedroom to the front door. “Yeah yeah, hold on.”
With half asleep swollen eyes he opened the door to find you frantic, eyes blown wide and your hands clasped together under your stomach smiling at him nervously. “I’m so so so sorry about this.”
He quickly snapped awake upon seeing your panicked expression, standing up straight and rubbing his sleep tired eyes. “It’s fine, seriously. Is it the pup?? Are you okay??”
“No no, pups fine..” you trail off, laughing anxiously. “My grocery order was missing a few items and you see.. I’m eating some apples, a little late night snack..”
Jaemin nods confused, relieved that your water didn’t break early or something. “My delivery person refunded the Gochujang I ordered. I guess they were out at the store.” You explain, feeling silly and terrible at the same time for waking your neighbor over this. You hardly even know him beyond the first run-in you had the day you moved in. “I was just wondering if maybe you have any to spare? If not it’s okay. I’m seriously sorry, I thought about texting you, but I don’t have your number.” 
He perks up at the mention of Gochujang, squinting at the idea of needing chili pepper paste for your apples. “I do have some actually. I just went to the market a few days ago. Here, why don’t you come in for a minute while I grab it.”
“Are you sure? I can just be on my way, and bring you back the container tomorrow..”
“No no, it’s fine.” He yawns, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen. “So, apples and Gochujang?”
“It’s sooo good, the hint of spice really pairs well with the crunch.” 
“Should you be eating something this spicy, uh, right now?” He questions, wondering if that’s good for a baby, mentally noting to look that up online later.
“Oh, I love a little spice.” You nod, looking him over now under the kitchen light. “Nice sweater..”
Jaemin makes a confused sound, shutting the fridge to look down at himself with a container of Gochujang in hand. “Oh..” he tries to smile when you snort, rubbing his free hand down the large bold black letters reading ‘Orgasm Donor’ on the white hoodie. “It was a joke gift from my friends.. I didn’t uh..”
“Is it true?” You ask coyly, glancing away when he looks at you surprised.
“Is what true?” He retorts, not awake enough to catch the way you grin and shyly bite your thumb nail.
“Are you charitable?”
He’s struck for a minute, blinking slowly in disbelief that the cutest pregnant Omega he’s ever seen is currently standing in his kitchen at 3 in the morning desperate for chili paste to eat with her apples flirting with him? The same Omega he watches waddle through the halls after picking up her mail leaving behind the softest traces of fresh whipped creamy milk? The same one he couldn’t help but notice had no mating mark adorning her long beautiful much too bare neck? 
Peering bewildered from the front of his hood back to you more than a few times, he gapes like a fish, lifting up the tub of Gojuchang. “Yeah, anything you need, I’m always an apartment away. I work from home now too so don’t worry about showing up whenever you want, I’ll give you anything you want.” He says too eagerly, stepping forward with a smile. “Like this chili paste.”
What are the chances you show up at his door like a glowing dream, leaving your warm milky scent behind that softly carries him back to his dreams. Dreams full of you, your smile when he passes by, the cute way you struggle to bend over and frown because your belly has just gotten too big.
He could tell after that you needed more help than you were willing to let on, especially by the number of packages showing up at your doorstep varying from small to way too large for you to be handling on your own.
“Hey, remember when I said you can come to me for anything?” He said approaching you attempting to push a new extra large package through your door. “I meant anything, consider me your new delivery man, alright?”
“Ah, you really don’t have to. I still owe you for the Gojuchang..” the same paste you shamelessly never returned- that Jaemin would never ask you to bring back anyway. 
“You don’t owe me anything.” He always made sure to reassure you with a large smile, removing his shoes as he entered your apartment and asked for directions.
“It’s a new drawer for the baby.” You said, motioning toward the spare bedroom you’d begun to decorate. From that day he refused to let you handle any furniture building on your own, to the point that he felt invasive for barging into your life this way. 
The few comments you made here and there gave him enough hint that you’re on your own. No Omega soon to give birth should be alone, this is one of the most vulnerable times you will ever experience in your life. Besides, he likes helping you. He loves to hear you gasp when he effortlessly picks up the new crib you ordered, loves to hear your comments about how strong he is. Loves to still have your scent swarming around his head when he returns back to his apartment, and he really really loves being around you.
That’s why a coffee machine in your apartment has become necessary. After a quick shower and brushing his teeth, he’s already on the way out, taking a few short steps to your place.
“Good morning.”
It’s become your normal day, sitting around on the couch watching lamaze videos as you practice your breathing. Jaemin’s changed his schedule around to fit your lifestyle. You have no idea how you got lucky enough to move in next door to a not only ridiculously handsome and helpful Alpha, but an extremely polite and giving one at that. 
The nurses at your clinic always blush and giggle while he waits for you, drooling over the good looking built Alpha without a trace of mating mark on his skin. They’ve made a few comments to you, curious about him, curious about your relationship with him.
He’s not your Alpha, even if your Omega has started to believe so. How can you not with his constant concern for your wellbeing? The random gifts he brings to you, trying to pass them off as something he saw on his way home even though you saw the packages waiting at his door. He’s really been there for you, more caring than any Alpha you’ve been with before; including the absent one-night stand you had that wanted nothing to do with you when you contacted him to let him know. 
Sure, the predicament you’ve ended up in isn’t the best, but as you fold new onesies and put away matching pacifiers you can’t find the will to be upset with your decision, even if this isn’t the way you imagined your future to unfold.
“How are you feeling today?”
He’s been repositioning the furniture that’s already set-up in the pups future room, finding where you’d like the crib to be placed before working on building your new items. “Still having trouble sleeping?”
Yes, sleeping has been rather difficult. It’s been months now since your last heat. 9 months to be exact, landing yourself where you are now after the wild excursions your last put you through. Throwing up, swollen feet, random cravings, and an aching back can’t nearly compare to how insanely frustrating it is to lose sleep. The push and pull happening between your thighs to your brain always hits at night. It started after the month you first moved in, the dreams that had you waking up soaked with slick.
Your physician had explained that they would only get worse, seeing as Omegas typically have an Alpha to handle those issues. The pregnancy suppressing your heat in turn makes your hormones 100 times worse. 
And that is where Jaemin comes in, you tried to avoid him and keep your distance, but he’s just too damn nice. Making it impossible to turn down the Alphas unwarranted help, never asking anything of you in return, he simply wants to help.
After that night of craving chili paste, you solemnly patted your way back to your apartment, pathetically frowning at the tub of Gochujang you’d been craving.
Orgasm Donor?!? You could scream! The sexiest Alpha you’ve ever seen right next door in nothing but his boxers and a ridiculous sweater, it took all of the strength you could muster up from the moon Goddess herself to clamp your thighs shut and strain your muscles to not drip slick right there in his kitchen. 
The Alpha had to know by now how dizzy his presence alone makes you. Having to sit down whenever he steps foot inside of your place, you sigh, biting down on your lip to not drool over how tight his shirt is today. Each movement flexing the strong muscles lining his broad back too visible. Even after being bred enough to get pupped you can’t control how crazy your hormones have made you feel these last couple of months. No amount of balancing tea or vitamin in the world can quell the need to get absolutely fucked by the strong Alpha taking up space in your future nursing room.
“Still bad I take it?” He says before you can respond, too lost in your thoughts to realize how long you’ve been staring off fantasizing about all the ways he could take you.
“Does it show?” You ask self consciously, rubbing your stomach to comfort yourself. 
“Huh?” He turns, noticing that you’re playing with your hair, bringing it closer to your face. “Oh no no, you look as cute as ever.” He smiles that same charming toothy smile he always has specifically for you. “I just meant, y’know I worry about you getting enough sleep. I was reading and it’s important you get at least 10 hours minimum.”
“10 hours is wayyy too much..” you laugh, rubbing under your eyes trying to remember how bad your dark circles looked this morning. 
“I can definitely help you fall asleep.” He says casually, not understanding how feral your Omega is. The little voice inside of you growling and lunging forward to escape with a ‘bet you can’. How much longer can you really endure having this Alpha around before you make headlines.
PREGNANT WOMAN CHOMPS THROUGH HER NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR ALPHAS BICEPS, CLAIMS HER HORMONES GOT THE BEST OF HER!
How humiliating. If only he understood your true despair stems from him and how rabidly horny he’s gotten you.
“How does this work? You’ll be sleeping in your bedroom while the pup stays in here, or will you be ruining your back on this chair?”
Jaemin asks nonchalantly, carrying on the conversation you’ve been checking in and out of. Quietly humming to himself as he positions a cushion on the seat of the rocking chair he’s been working on assembling for the last hour. He definitely took longer than what he’d estimated in his mind when you mentioned your new crib and chair arriving today. Not that he’d ever admit that he wanted to scream after 10 minutes of searching for one screw that the instructions called for. He’s sure the crib will take another two hours to set up after this(if he’s lucky), biting back a sigh to not catch your attention the more he thinks about it.
“I think for nap time it’d be best to get the pup used to this room, I’m sure I’ll struggle to not sleep by his side every night at first..” you admit shyly, cupping under your stomach and rubbing over the round exterior. He wants to agree that there’s no way a newborn pup would want to leave your side; not with the way your face lights up whenever kicks beat against your stomach or when he brings you back from your doctor visits listening to all the exciting future plans you have lined up.
“It’s probably not my place to say, but you shouldn’t fall asleep in here much. This chairs not that comfortable..” he frowns, testing out the rocking motion. “I’m sure we can find another crib that could fit in your bedroom..”
“Another crib is a bit out of my budget right now.”
“Don’t worry about that.” He grins, standing up to tap the large cardboard box you’re perched on. “Isn’t that what baby showers are for? I’m sure your family has already stocked up on things to gift you.”
Ah, a baby shower. Of course, how could you fail to mention that neither of your parents have spoken to you since the day you showed up at their doorstep 3 months pregnant, unmated and out of wedlock. “Ah, you—you have a point.” You mumble nervously. “You’ve been at this for a bit, I’ll get the coffee brewing.”
“Coffee sounds great right now.” Jaemin says, helping you stand up without releasing your hands until he deems your ankles steady enough to walk on your own. “You know how I like it.”
“Four shots of espresso over ice?” 
“Exactly.” He winks your way, beginning to unbox the crib you’d shown him a few weeks ago. Some fancy overpriced one imported from Italy, a dream according to what you had said while he sat with you as you browsed through various baby decor online shops.
He really wanted to ask what the hell ever happened to Babies ‘R Us, recalling his days working across the street from one, but you looked too happy smiling wide as you showed him the different canopy designs and various woods used to customize each one.
“It’s perfect for a boy, don’t you think?”
Ah, these are really questions you should be asking your Alpha.. if you had one. His lips draw down, peeling open the cribs manual to divide and separate each piece into small sections to start working out. 
It’s hard to believe an Alpha, any Alpha period could just up and leave their Omega to raise a child alone. Jaemin can’t forget the first day you moved in and struggled to drag your belongings down the hallway corridor creating an unnecessarily noisy ruckus outside of his apartment. He stormed out ready to curse you to hell for waking him up, having come home from the gym late the night prior and hoping to catch a few more Z’s that morning. The shout ready to exit his lips hung in the air upon seeing you nearly tip over and let a bag full of clothes spill onto the floor instead of risking the chance to fall and land on your stomach.
You had to have been only a few months along at the time, barely showing a small bump. You hadn’t spotted him yet as you stood there looking over your neatly folded clothes falling apart and making a big mess to clean up. Stress and exhaustion pulled at your soft glowing face, slowly sliding down to your knees to throw everything back in the bag you’d been carrying.
He contemplated speaking up, opening and shutting his mouth as he watched a tear slip down your cheek, swallowed past the seam of your lips. Anyone with half a brain would be able to read the room and assume you weren’t in the best situation given your state at the time. Still he couldn’t help but take in your pretty skin, glossy eyes batting away more tears from pouring, and the small pout permanently etched on your lips as you gathered your things.
“Here, let me help.” He said, deciding to bend over and grab your bag as you shoved in the last of your clothes. To your surprise, you glanced up, jaw hanging as you started to shake your head. “New neighbor?”
Everything progressed slowly from that moment. Sure, at first it was all a coincidence how often he’d find you having a hard time carrying packages from the mail, out of breath lugging your groceries from your car, cursing loudly whenever you’d burnt dinner and set off your fire alarms. He can’t deny making an effort after your first month next door to check in on you, whether you asked for help or not. Especially after the night you showed up begging for chili paste. Without being too intrusive he picked up on hints, figuring out that the Alpha that got you pregnant was clearly no longer a part of your life.
Instinctively he had to do what any respectable Alpha would willingly want to do. Helping you through these past 5 months has been entertaining to say the least. There’s a bit of charm to your silly nature, to how often you whine and complain about your feet getting wider, your back hurting, the odd cravings that hit in the middle of the night. The ones you still deny are cravings, he snorts thinking about that.
Jaemin’s had more fun getting to know you than he has had with some of his long term relationships, even turning down potential Omegas to spend weekends with you. Someone has to be here to make sure you don’t burn your spaghetti again..
And there’s a possible chance he’s developed some feelings, feelings beyond friendship. Could just be his Alpha viewing you as his mate, watching your stomach grow and expand every week does drive him a little crazy, just a tad. 
“Hmm,” realizing he’s been reading the same paragraph over and over again without registering any instructions, he looks around and sits up. You’ve definitely been gone for longer than 10 minutes by now..
“How’s that coffee coming along?” He asks, jogging down the hall, feet hitting the brakes as soon as he makes it to the end. “Shit.”
“I—I don’t know what happened.” You cry, hands shaking above a broken mug and spilled dark liquid.
“Are you hurt?!” He rushes forward, falling to a squat to reach for your arms, hands pausing mid-air. “Oh my God..”
“I’m—I’m sorry, please don’t look..” you whine, hunching in to hide your breasts. It’s useless to try, completely leaked through your shirt leaving your pert nipples completely visible through the thin soaked material clinging to your ample chest. 
“You’re—“ Jaemin stutters, swallowing a thick wad of saliva, mouth going dry at once as the sweet creamy scent of breast milk swirls around his tonsils. “I need t-to help you.”
“S’ok, I got it..” 
“No no, come on.” He gulps, gently grabbing a firm hold on your waist to bring you back up with him. Against his insane willpower, he has to look. He has to lower his gaze and focus on how your breasts bounce as you find your balance. They’re so full, look painful and ready to burst. He’d read about this.. how Omegas can begin to lactate months prior to giving birth depending on how often they typically go into heat. He thought informing himself of all the possibilities would make everything much less daunting, but there’s no way to deny how fucking good the scent rolling off your warm flesh tastes as it seeps through his senses. 
And when you regain your balance, reaching behind yourself to grab at the kitchen counter ledge, your chest shoves out even more, inadvertently spurting milky liquid from your nipples. He tries to keep his scent calm, tries to look away, tries to stop his fingers from itching to cup and squeeze out more. But fuck everythings hitting at once, spiking his scent, thrumming through his cock until it twitches against the inside of his sweats.
He should be ashamed, ashamed for objectifying this vulnerable moment, for imagining his lips sucking around your leaking buds, dragging the material of your shirt past his mouth to suck it clean.
“Alpha..” you moan, shattering any ounce of guilt he felt. Snapping his gaze to your face he nearly crumbles at your wet parted lips, the tears clinging to your lower lashes. 
“I know Mama.” He agonizes, tightly gripping your waist as he works to take deep breaths through his mouth and blow out slowly, averting his gaze away from your body. “L-let me help you change.”
The last time he can recall feeling this feral had to have been the day before he woke up in his first rut. He’d been at the gym working up a sweat, arms on fire by the time he exited the weight training room and decided to end with cardio. Plans went astray when he neared a treadmill to hop on and looked around only to realize the gym had to have been full of Omegas. Omegas perspiring a damn storm judging by the way the aroma of sweet honey caramel skin and lush petals of Jasmine slapped him across the face. He had to leave after a minute to calm himself, head dizzy and feet off balance as he made his way to the lockers to melt away his perverse thoughts.
Even the hard-on he suffered to jerk off that night could not compare to how painfully his cock aches right now. Throbbing faster than a rapid heartbeat, he even fears his dick could burst if he has to swallow anymore of your scent, if he can’t rip his gaze away from your perky delectable nipples.
“Alpha, I’m hot.”
Fuck. You are. You’re so hot. He nods, unrealizing that he’s agreeing, not even noticing how scorching hot your skin feels through the material of your shirt. “T-think I should l-leave.” He says begrudgingly, feeling like a failure, a coward.
“Please.”
That’s it. That’s all it takes to strip away the last bit of self control he could come up with. It wasn’t much anyway, the mixture of your breast milk and delicious pregnant scent combined could send him straight into an impromptu rut. “A-are you sure?” 
He licks at his plump lips, leaving a film of saliva over his naturally pink pout that makes your thighs squeeze together. Even with shards of broken mug too close to your feet and the pungent smell of coffee wafting between you, all you can think about is how big the Alpha is. He’s so big in front of you right now, bringing your need to feel small and taken care of to light. The independence you’ve convinced yourself of all dissipating with his large hands rubbing up and down your sides, arms flexing from the tense struggle running through his body.
“What should I do mama? Hmm? I need to clean you up.” The fear he had of taking the next giant leap of a step with you quickly exits, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes in your sobbing pretty face. He’s used that nickname a few times before, always sending shivers up your spine, but it’s worse now. The sugary tone he speaks to you in, so cute, striking each nerve as he moves you to the counter to get your bare feet away from the mess.
“Please Alpha, I feel..” thick arms wrap around your waist, laying his forehead gently on yours. 
“Tell me where it hurts.”
It’s too hard to say anything with the tremors his question releases throughout your body, searching for his hand to slide it down past your stomach between your legs where slick has already started to seep through your leggings. “Here.”
“Fuck.” He hisses, biting down on his teeth. “You’re making me crazy, you know that?”
“S-sorry,” you hiccup, squeezing around his hand cupping your middle. “That’s w-where—hurts..”
He tsks, shoving inside your bottoms to drag his fingers through the wad of slick gathered between your folds. It’s so much, leaking out profusely, covering his palm and wrists as he slides in deeper to tease your hole. “Messy, so damn messy mama.”
“Ah, d-don’t!” You croon, eyes welling up with tears from the relief of finally having your pussy touched by someone other than yourself. Harder and harder to reach past your stomach most nights, you succumb to whimpering into your pillow frustrated, fantasizing that your neighbor would hear your distress and gallop in on a horse like your knight in shining armor. “Don’t call me t-that.”
“No?” He frowns, nose brushing yours. “But your pussy tightens up around my fingers so good when I do, mommy.”
“Alpha! Ugh!” Dropping your neck, you let out a long winded cry. Panting short of breath from his thumb working furiously to harden your clit. “S’too—too dirty, p-please!”
“You’re right,” his tongue clicks, echoing around the kitchen. “You are still so so dirty mommy.”
With one arm he manages to lift your butt onto the counter, nodding for you to scoot on with a pat on your hip. He settles between your parted thighs, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Wait!” You panic, gripping around his wrists. “Don’t..don’t want you to see..”
“What??” Gasping surprised, he blinks confused, rubbing the fabric of your shirt between his fingers.
“My body right now—“ you flush, darting your gaze away ashamed. “Don’t want you to see..
“Nonsense.” He snaps, using a firmer tone with you that you’re not accustomed to hearing. “You think this,” touching your stomach, he glides upward to cup and squeeze your breasts. “And this? Doesn’t make me feel rabid out of my damn mind to fuck you right here, break the laws of humanity and wolf alike, get you pregnant with my pup somehow?”
It’s the angriest he’s ever looked, wrinkled between his nose and eyebrows, glaring at his heavy palms kneading your breasts to make more milk trickle. “Fuck, I’ve tried so hard to know my place, to show you nothing but respect..”
“S-stop,” you gulp, letting go of his wrists to smooth up and squeeze his biceps, clawing your short nails into the muscles. “Disrespect me, please Alpha..”
Big round eyes stare at you full of shock, taking in how you bite on your lip shyly. The trickles of milk so creamy and thick, spilling down his hands to his flexed forearms. “One thing I’ll never do—“ pressing in, he licks at your Cupid’s bow, long eyelashes blinking against your cheek. “Is disrespect you.”
The sound of your shirt ripping open has you gasping, sinking your nails deeper into his muscles. “But since you asked so fucking nicely.”
He gets the message quickly as you reach for the collar of his shirt and pull hard enough to stretch the fabric, quickly stepping back to strip it off and fully display his well built shoulders and chest. The gurgle from your throat that follows pleases him, returning your hands to feel every inch of new muscle you weren’t familiar with. His mouth is too thirsty, salivating as he takes your full breasts again without anything to hide your swollen nipples and admires them for less than a minute. Lapping at his wet lips as he shoves between your cleavage, licking up the remnants of dried and fresh milk with a deep groan.
Fuck. It’s incredible, nothing he’s ever tasted before. Sweet nectar that can only pour from a fertile breedable Omega built to birth healthy pups. Every sense and nerve in his system lights on fire, digging his face between your ample chest despite your cried moans. It’s bliss, more intense and real than anything, shoving his tongue between your tits to fuck the small gap. 
“Alpha!” 
Breast milk won’t stop running down his arms, opening his mouth wide to capture one of your hard nipples. The nub digs against the roof of his mouth, slurping down the cream as your other tit leaks akin to a broken faucet. “So fucking good mommy.” Jaemin says roughly, pulling away to look over your pleasured face. 
His lips swollen pink with a sheen milky layer, completely debauched as he goes in for more and attends to your other nipple. They swell up after many nibbles, gently digging his teeth into your firm buds. Each suck tastes sweeter than the last as your scent spikes and Omegan arousal swirls around him. The strong tones of milk mixing in with yours has his Alpha fanatic, jerking his hips against the kitchen counter for some type of friction on his cock.
“Alpha please, my pussy, please.” You ask too innocently, as if the activity that expanded your stomach out in the first place didn’t prove otherwise. He grunts for you to wait, shoving his face back in-between your bosom, jiggling the fleshy meat against his cheeks. If not for your hips jumping up he’d continue to assault your tits, spend hours playing with them until you have nothing else left to quench his insatiable thirst.
“Bet your pussy tastes just as sweet.” He grumbles, moving down onto his knees to pull off your leggings and panties in one go. “Fucking hell.” 
The amount of slick painted across your thighs and ass could compete with the local community pool, maybe even replenish a tiny village. His cock jump’s fiercely at the sight before him, lavving the residue of breast milk on his lips for a clean taste as he dives in. 
“Jaemin!” You shout, scrambling to grab onto something at the first stroke of the Alphas tongue prodding between your chubbed folds. The sounds he makes only add fuel to the fire, releasing more slick with each deep growl and bated panting breath.  
“Taste so damn good Omega,” he hums, enamored by how syrupy and powerful your scent slaps him across the face from between your thighs. Shuffling forward on his knees, he holds your thighs open to stretch his jaw wide and roll his tongue from your entrance to your clit, jolting your legs to kick the kitchen drawers with his skills.
Everything feels so good, spinning your mind around. The only frustration as you peer down is the sight of your round stomach completely hiding the Alphas lustful gaze and sloppy tongue. “Alpha, pleasepleaseplease!” sobbing, you kick at the drawers again. “Can’t see your face! C-can’t see!”
Jaemin shoots up at the sound of your affliction, eyes blown wide with concern as he reaches for your shoulders to sit you up. “Shh shh, I’m here.” He smiles, a disaster of slick covering his nose, lips and chin. “Look at me pretty mama.”
“Mmm..” reaching for his face, you smear the slick on his lips. “Messy.”
“Messy for you.” He kisses at your thumbs, sucking on the tip of one he captures. “Such a bad mommy, wants to watch her pussy get ate?”
Nodding feebly you move to stroke his neck, squeezing around. “Can’t see you down there..”
“Stay like this okay?” He instructs, pecking you, leaving slick on your chin. “Sit just like that, you’re doing so good for me mama.”
Setting your palms on the counter, he opens your thighs up a little wider, getting down into a squat to keep his head at level with your knees. “Keep your pretty eyes on me. Gonna make you feel good.”
His eyes stay on yours, one palm splayed on your thigh as his other reaches just under your navel. Stretching his neck back into an uncomfortable angle, his tongue hangs out, blinking up at you before diving back in to lap at your clit. Wide firm licks catch your sensitive folds, face rocking back and forth to really let you feel his tongue stroking between each crevice.
Big watery doll eyes stay facing up to watch you fall apart, scratching at the counter desperately to not reach for his hair to slam his face in deeper. Slippery hot stiff pressure teases under your clit, he keeps it there twitching the muscle until your hips start to rock forward and tears erupt from the corners of your eyes. The heat inside of your stomach pools, coiling up to your chest making it harder to breathe. He keeps at it for another minute until your eyebrows scrunch together. 
The lick he delivere to your clit sparks raging nerves up your spine, arching forward and nearly losing your balance on the counter to fuck his face. 
Dipping lower he finally plunges as much of his tongue as he can inside of you, slapping your inner thigh when you shout out in pleasure. The thick fat muscle rubs at your inner walls, sucking down the slick that tries to choke him out. Much like your breasts, he could spend hours just like this between your supple thighs, memorizing the way you fall apart and shake from every lap and stroke of his tongue.
Finally caving, you grip onto his hair, crying out brokenly. “I’m c-cum—“ his tongue disappears before you can complain, moving to stand and shove three fingers inside your cunt. “Ahhh!”
“Look at me mama, be good for Alpha.” He orders throatily, vocals thick and corded with slick. “Squeeze that pretty pussy around my fingers, give it to me.”
“Jaem—Alpha!” The heels of your feet slam against the drawers painfully, reaching for his wrist as he jerks the three digits stretching you open. Bicep rippling from the strength being used to shoot your release out around his relentless working fingers. “S’too—good.”
“God you cum so fucking pretty.” He sighs, gently drawing free to rub your clit while you twitch against him. Lips finding yours to calm your high with tender kisses.
“Come here pretty.” Jaemin says huskily, daring to scoop you up without a hitch, bare round stomach pressed to his smooth abs just enough to not apply pressure. He turns toward your living room, setting you down on the couch to grab a few pillows. “Here baby, let me make it comfortable for you.”
“Alpha..” you whine, still conscious of how big you must look on your back like this. He only smiles, bending in close to kiss your lips. 
“I can’t knot you, don’t want you to stay in this position too long.” He says, sweating through excruciating horny pangs shooting through his dick. 
“Please Jaemin, want you i-inside.” You beg much too prettily, pulling his lips back to bare his teeth. He wants to be gentle with you so badly, wants to focus on you and make you cum to your heart’s content. But God you aren’t making it easy.
“Only for a little, okay?” He says raggedly, hoisting you to sit leaned against the pillows to take pressure off your lower back and still make it easy to get between your legs. “If it’s too much I’ll stop.”
“Won’t be too much Alpha, need you so bad.” You say drowsily, still drunk from the orgasm his fingers and mouth ripped out of you. He nods, tugging on the string holding his sweats up, blushing when he sees the giant wet stain of pre-cum that’s leaked through the cotton fabric. “I should put a condom on.”
“I’m already knocked up.” You giggle, covering your face. “Don’t want anything between us.” 
Fuck. You’ll be the death of him talking like that. Pushing down his sweats, he gasps at how red the tip of his cock is, looking painful to the touch. There’s no way he’ll be able to last long enough to not pop a knot inside of you. 
“Alpha.” You whisper, angled perfectly in a half seated position to see how enraged his dick looks flush against his stomach. He doesn’t even have to stroke it, doesn’t want to out of fear of cumming before he even enters you.
“You sure about this?” He asks once more through gritted teeth, already lining the tip up to your entrance.
“Pl-lease.. haven’t gotten fucked in s-so long.” You hiccup, too excited, bending your neck in to watch his throbbing red cockead nudge against your hole.  
“Fuck! Ahh,” hissing, he gingerly grabs the base of his size, slowly pushing in until your cunt snaps around him. So tight, tight like you haven’t been fucked in months exactly as you just admitted. He’d fuck you so hard, make you take every inch until his dicks coming out of your nose. But now’s not the time, this isn’t about him no matter how hard the veins lining his length throb in disagreement. “Feel g-good?” He asks, licking at the sweat beading on his upper lip.
“M-more, please!”
He can’t do it, can’t push more than the tip in because it’d be too greedy. Even if he gets you off first it’d be too fucking greedy. As painful as it is to ignore the begging cries you let out, he opts to press down on your clit. Thumbing the stiff nub back and forth with short thrusts drawing the fat tip of his cock in and out enough to have a perfect view of your hole stretching around him. “So good, you’re doing so good for me mommy.”
“Alpha!” You twitch, lower back arching up starving for more. “P-please! Deeper!”
He wants to cave, give you everything you want, make you cum on his cock and bloat your stomach out even further with rivers of cum deep inside of you. “C-can’t.” He grits, grabbing onto your hips firmly to stop himself from thrusting in further. “D-don’t make me..”
“Need it! I need it!” You keep pleading, head tossed back with your wet spit slick lips parted open panting. “Fuck me! F-fuck me please! Put another baby in me!”
“Ahh, you c-can’t say that!” He growls in pain, digging the tips of his fingers into your hips hard enough to leave marks. You can’t say that, anything but that. “Mommy wants Alphas cum.” 
“Y-yes,” you whine, stroking down your stomach to direct his gaze beneath your navel. “Wanna feel you h-here, mommy wants it.”
“Shitshit,” that’s it, that’s enough to jerk his hips and push in another inch. How could you ask this of him? How could you act like such a sweet pilant breedable bitch, begging to get fucked and fucked until all you know how to do is get pupped. “Yeah, mommy wants it deep.”
His sack feels heavy as he plunges in the rest of his length inch by inch, slapping against your rim balls deep. “Get you pregnant again, keep you pupped up with my baby.” He rambles, focusing on not slamming his cock in like a wild animal. Having to squeeze his eyes shut to not cum when he sees your milk filled breasts bouncing up high enough to hit under your chin. “Fuckfuckfuck, you’re too much.”
He sounds so desperate, dying to ram into you faster with each rough grip on your hips. Pushing up off his knees, he squats to angle his cock in even deeper, making your lips fall open with a loud shouted moan. “Right t-there mama? Is that it? You want it there?” He asks, raspy and throaty, deep voice coming out from a deep torned place. 
“Alpha!” You stammer, spluttering the same words over and over again mindlessly. 
“Look at me,” he groans, bending in closer to cup your cheek and grind his hips. “W-wanna feel you cum on my cock. Gonna cum for me mama?”
“Fuck, ahh!” His thumb presses against your bottom lip, nodding with you as his other hand slips between your conjoined lower halves. Expert figure eights work more slick out making his cock slide in even easier if possible, wet and messy rivering down his inner thighs. 
“Cum for me, come on.” He growls, thrusting a little faster to chase your release. His balls slapping against the dip of your ass with each push in. The entirety of his length penetrates in and out, skyrocketing your pleasure by pinching your clit. Each flick and rub rushes heat through your stomach and chest, toes curling as you find his wide blown out eyes.
“F-fuck me, breed me full of cum.” You plead between gritted teeth, reaching to hold around his neck, suffocating the scream that rips from your chest. It’s been so long since you last had a release this strong, unable to even arch up with the weight of your stomach holding you down. You kick out and cry against his pouty lips, eyes rolling back.
“That’s it mommy,” he cries, eyes watering up as your walls squeeze the life from this dick and he has to do everything in his power to stop himself. His Alpha screaming at the top of its lungs to knot knot knot! Especially with the way you beg for it, the way your pussy swallows his dick whole and grovels to be knotted.
“Don’t p-pull out, please Alpha.” You sob, opening your hands in search of his. “Inside me, s-stay inside.”
“Ughh!” Jaemin can’t stop himself anymore, shoving his cock in to fill up to the brim with a few more sloppy thrusts. Reaching for your hands, he bends over bridging his upper half above yours. The muscles lining his stomach twitch and clench, sucking in at his navel as he draws his length out to the tip and the base of his cock expands. It’s more painful than he’d expected, his Alpha howling like a beast inside, gnawing through his facade of strength as tears pour down his cheeks. “Fuck. Fuck!”
He sniffles, cockhead still lodged inside your tight hole spurting out sticky cum that seems to satiate you judging by the long sigh you let out.
“Alpha..” you say drowsily, eyes half-lidded with the most serene smile looking back at him. “Sleepy.”
Nodding furiously, he kisses your hands before releasing your hold, quickly wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Pulling out okay? Need to clean you up.”
Jaemin hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to not bend at your will, having to tune out the way you whine for him to stay inside of you. His Alpha shouts and snarls, berating him for not listening to their Omega. 
He’s so fucked, already recognizing you as his mate without considering what you must feel right now, driven by your out of whack hormones and lust.
“Don’t leave me.” You pout, whining so pretty.
“I’m not going anywhere mama.” He reassures, leaning in to kiss your stomach. “But I need to get you cleaned off before you fall asleep, alright?”
He tries to make it quick, scrambling to fill up a bowl of warm water and grab a few washcloths. Can’t be fast enough when he jogs back to the living room to find your eyes fluttering open and shut. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take you to bed.”
“Nooo,” you continue to whine, huffing petulantly. “Too heavy..”
“I bench 280, don’t doubt me.” He chuckles, shaking his head. Sitting by your side, he slowly cleans the mess of slick and cum that’s dripped down to your thighs and ass, patting the area dry. “How are you feeling?”
“Eepy.” 
He’d squeeze you if he wasn’t so happy to hear that you’re relaxed enough to possibly get a full night of sleep. Proudly smiling to himself as he finishes cleaning you off and bends closer to your face. “Time for bed.”
“Don’t leave me..”
He scoffs playfully, getting up to position you on top of his arms, squatting down to ensure he picks you up properly. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Mmm..” true to his word he carries you to your room without much struggle, softly laying you down on your bed and stumbling when you grab onto his arm and pull. “Stay here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Stop asking.”
He sighs, moving to the empty side of your bed, shoulders instantaneously losing the tense concern and worry he’d been holding onto. You can talk about this in the morning, or the afternoon, or at night, or never.
Maybe he can just accept that you both wanted this and more than anything he wants this. He wants to help you with your pup, take care of you after you give birth, help cook and clean, make sure you’re well fed after hours of trying to put your pup to sleep.
It can really be this easy, living here in this moment. In the safe comforting space of your small apartment that’s started to feel more like home than his own. Playing house with you has brought him more relief than hours at the gym.. long nights out partying.
He watches you get comfortable on your side, beginning to breathe in and out more shallowly.
“Jaem..”
“Hmm?”
“You’re staring.” You murmur, trying to hide a smile.
“I am.” Scooting in closer, he lightly rests a hand on your stomach. “I’m scared to ask, but this is okay, right?”
A cute growl emits from your chest, laying a hand over his. “I’ll let it slide, you do a real good job around here.”
“It’s okay, you can finally admit that you like me.” Letting out a long sigh, he nestles in closer, cheek resting on your chest. “I like you too.”
“Do you?”
“Is it standard for Alphas to cancel their plans every week to hang out with their pregnant Omega neighbor?” He hums, following your hand to rub your stomach. “Ah, what am I saying? I was all happy to get you to fall asleep and now I’m talking your ear off.”
He’s met with the light sound of breath, lifting his gaze to find you well past counting sheep. Adjusting to cradle your head better, he kisses your forehead. “Night night angel baby.”
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・
2K notes · View notes
augustinewrites · 2 months
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synopsis: wriothesley always knows exactly what you need.
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building a home in fontaine’s countryside was the best decision that you and wriothesley had made. the privacy was your main reason for moving out here, where your home is hidden away from eyes that pry, tucked safely underneath the linden trees. 
of course, there are a lot of things about your house that you love. the ivy that wraps around its walls, the acres of land for gardening and raising animals, or just to sit within and admire. you love the warmth of the fireplace on cool nights and the south-facing windows that let golden sunlight fill the room. you love this home because you built it together (with the help of your friends). 
but your absolute favourite piece in your home has to be the clawfoot bathtub. deep enough to nearly reach your shoulders, long enough to stretch your legs across. sinking into a bath in this gorgeous tub was the perfect way to end a long week.
you’re preparing a bath now, trussing it up with bath salts, essential oils, some bubbles. candles for ambiance. the setting sun was still bright enough to bounce soft light around the room, but you liked the warm glow candles provided. 
the only thing left now was to strip out of your work clothes. you toss them in the basket, rolling your eyes as you pick up a stray sock that seemed to just miss the basket last night. 
“unbelievable,” you mutter with a shake of your head as you grab the stem of your wine glass, cradling it into your chest as you climb into the tub and slowly lower yourself into the warm water. the second you lean back against the ceramic you instantly begins to relax. the tensions from the work week are already beginning to drift away in a heavenly haze of lavender scented steam and bubbles. it’s just you, your wine, and a quiet evening.
the sound of the front door being thrown open jolts you out of your daze. you nearly spill your wine when you sit upright, body alert at the thought of an intruder. 
your husband calls your name. 
“bathroom!” you call back, releasing a relieved sigh as you sink back into the water. you hear his heavy footsteps quickly make their way across the cottage. he’s home early today. 
wriothesley appears in the doorway, lopsided smile on his face as he already begins loosening his tie, stepping into the bathroom. “don’t you look relaxed.”
you simply hum in response, smiling up at him. at least until he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it in the general direction of the basket. 
“wrio,” you pout as his trousers suffer the same fate. “your stuff goes in the basket. not in the area around it.” 
“they’ll get there eventually,” he shrugs, gesturing for you to scoot up. “don’t want the water to get cold.”
so much for a quiet evening.
“you know, the purpose of the bigger bath was so that we wouldn’t be squished together like this,” you mutter as he slides into the water behind you, tucking himself snugly against your back and settling his chin in the crook of your neck
“maybe i just like being pressed up against you,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “i do like having a bigger bath for our…activities though.”
you roll your eyes, and wriothesley makes up for his lewd insinuations when his hands start working at the knots in your shoulders. “wanna tell me what you’re doing home so early? i usually have to tear you away from your desk for the weekend.”
“promise you won’t freak out?” he sighs, digging his fingers into a particularly large knot at the base of your neck. it’s a trap and you know this, but it just feels so good. 
“wriothesley–” you start.
his fingers move under your chin, tilting your head toward him so you’re eye to eye. “i may have left clorinde in charge so i could take a few days off.” before you can get a word out, he swallows your argument with a kiss.
“wait,” you sputter. “how many days did you take off?”
“three days starting tomorrow,” he answers quickly, leaning in for another kiss. you place a soap-covered hand on his mouth and push his face away, ignoring his confused noises. 
“you can’t take that many days off, we have the finance meeting with neuvillette on monday,” you remind him, scooting to the opposite end of the tub to avoid any more distracting touches. “i can’t go by myself–”
“ah,” he interrupts, rubbing the back of his neck. “i may have signed off on a few days off for you too.”
“what?!” you yell, but it’s more like a shriek. “don’t you remember what happened last time you left clorinde in charge? the infirmary–” 
“i told her she can’t hit them this time!”
you huff, bubbles floating through the air as you cross your arms over your chest. you’re surprised he’d take so much time off before an important meeting. 
“come on,” he urges, that sneaky smile you hate to love still playing on his lips as he leans forward in the water. you feel his hand grip your ankle, barely lifting your leg above the water, thumbs rubbing firm circles into the pad of your foot. “i’m not trying to get out of anything. i just want to spend some more time with you.”
you have to admit, he looks absolutely irresistible right now. The way the warm sunset bounced off the rivulets of water dripping down the planes of his chest painted a very pretty picture for you to look at as he massaged your tired muscles. 
and he’s right. the two of you have been busy lately, sneaking quick kisses when you pass him in the hall or hiding away for a moment before one of you is called for. 
his skilled fingers work their way up your calf, soothing the muscles you used to walk around the infirmary. You lean your head back, letting your eyes slip closed as he starts describing your weekend off in a low voice that makes heat creep up to your cheeks. 
“it’ll just be me and you all weekend. We’ll lay in bed all morning, then i’ll make you a special brunch–” you crack one eye open to send him a wary look. “okay, you got me. i’ll order us a special brunch. then we’ll have a picnic out in the yard, maybe do some fishing at the dock…”
okay, you’re sold. a restful weekend with your love sounds perfect. 
“well, as long as you’re prepared for the– ah,” you gasp, shuddering as his fingers travel up past your knee. “wriothesley, what are you–” 
“shh, just giving you another preview of what you’re in for this weekend,” he laughs, fingers grazing your inner thigh. “let me help you relax, love.”
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strang3lov3 · 9 months
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Cinnabon
Summary: (mall rats 7, final part!) Joel ruins a special moment, leading to another stupid argument, leading to him fucking the daylights out of you on his couch. Lovingly.
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Tags: AU where yeast is not dead and we can all bake and be happy. Cordyceps is no longer in the flour/sugar either (work with me) Cinnabons, 69, dirty talk, unprotected Piv, creampie because it’s me, strang3lov3. soft dom joel because again, it’s me, strang3lov3. Strange highs and strange lows, that’s how my love goes. You get it.
A/N: As always, thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️ you’ve helped me so much on this series and you have no clue how thankful I am for that. Definitely abusing your talents for the next shit I wanna write! And thank you to everyone who’s read and reblogged, commented, all of that good stuff. This was a blast to write!!!
This may not be the absolute end of these two, so you might get an update on them here and there, most likely in the form of yet another lovers quarrel. But I have so much stuff planned and I hope you continue to keep up with me ❤️ excited for the new year and to share what else i've been writing with all of you 🩷
It’s early in the morning in late December when you’re walking up to Joel’s porch, holding a basket full of ingredients and a dusty copy of Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. You knock on the door, no answer. With Joel’s poor hearing, sometimes it’s better to knock on his back door. He seems to hear it better, closer to his bedroom and all that. You make your way to his back door, where you find Ellie quietly opening the window next to the door, no doubt sneaking back from a friend’s house. You startle each other, “Ellie, hi,” you say. You wrinkle your nose, she smells like weed. You can’t help but smirk.
“Oh,” she says, “Hi. I’m not– I’m just–”
“I won’t tell Joel,” you smile. Ellie’s staring at your basket of goodies, where one of your lacy Victoria’s Secret thongs sits on top of a blue Cinnabon apron. “I’m just…baking. For Joel. Are you gonna be home today?”
It’s Ellie’s turn to smirk at you, as she opens the window the rest of the way and lifts herself inside the house. You hear her heavy footsteps before she unlocks and opens the door for you. “I can disappear,” she replies, “I require payment, though.” 
“I’ll leave you a plate outside your door.”
“Deal.” 
Ellie goes to her room probably to change clothes, and you go toward Joel’s kitchen. “I want two of whatever you’re making,” Ellie calls out before slamming the back door again, probably going back to her friend’s house. That girl certainly knows how to negotiate. You can’t help but love her for it.
Joel usually wakes up early, but he’s not on his recliner where you expect him to be. Must be in bed. You smile to yourself, picturing Joel coming downstairs in his pajamas, hair messy and sighing in pleasure at the sweet aroma of butter and cinnamon. 
You’re making Cinnabons this morning. Well, cinnamon rolls, as Betty Crocker puts it. When you and Joel were in the Barnes and Noble at the mall picking up books for Jackson’s library, you had stumbled across Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. Flipping through the pages, you found a recipe for cinnamon rolls and thought back to that first time in the mall with Joel, where he explained what a Cinnabon was, and then lied about his sweet tooth. 
There were loads of recipes, many interesting pictures too. You brought the book to Joel and pointed at a picture of some odd, translucent dome-shaped food item. He told you it was called Jell-O, and that no one misses it. You wanted to take the cookbook back with you, but there wasn’t room in the duffel bag. And you couldn’t bear to rip out a single page for one recipe. That would just be cruel.
At the end of the day, you went back to Tommy’s office with Joel. Joel usually walks you home, but he didn’t that day. Said he was running late for game night with Ellie, so he took off quickly. Tommy told you he’d walk you home, though.
As you and Tommy went through some of the books, he heard you sigh disappointedly, “What’s gotcha down, hon?”
“There was this book I wanted, but we didn’t have room.” 
“What book?”
“Cookbook,” you replied, “I wanted to make a recipe for Joel.” 
“Ah,” Tommy murmured, flipping through the pages of an old picture book, “Which recipe?”
“Cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh man,” Tommy groaned. He checked his watch, then looked at you with a light in his eyes. 
“I’ll take you back there right now to get that book.” 
“You’d do that?”, you asked.
“For you, of course. But I got my motives. Ya gotta hook me up with some of those rolls.”
There are few things that make you feel as loved and appreciated as when Tommy’s eating your food, showering you in the sweetest compliments and praises. No problem, you’d gladly share your baking with him. So Tommy took you back to the mall. You led him to the bookstore, picked up your book and went on your merry way. Tommy still hadn’t gotten to check the mall out for himself, though. So he wandered through the same areas you did, through the food court you and Joel picked through all that time ago. At the Cinnabon stand, he tossed you a blue apron with the word ‘Cinnabon’ embroidered at the chest. “Bet ya could make Joel turn bright red with this.”
You picked up what he was putting down immediately. And, thinking about it, you had a lacy thong that would match the apron perfectly. You remembered the blush on Joel’s cheeks as you tried on lingerie at Victoria’s Secret, how he mumbled something about lingerie being a waste of time before fucking you in the dressing room, still wearing your pretty pink chiffon babydoll. You wondered if faced with a big, gooey cinnamon roll sitting in front of him, and you in nothing but an apron and a thong, he’d still lie about that sweet tooth of his and his disdain for lingerie. Cause for an experiment. 
In Joel’s kitchen, you prepare the recipe. You prepped the dough last night, giving it plenty of time to rise. All you have to do this morning is prepare the cinnamon-sugar mixture and the icing. Oh, and put on that apron and thong. Not too hard. 
Once the rolls are assembled in the pan, you put them in Joel’s oven and change into your little outfit, feeling a little breeze on your bare ass. Good thing Ellie’s gone. As you’re waiting for the rolls to bake, you lean over Joel’s kitchen table and flip through the pages of your cookbook. The Jell-O still has you perplexed. 
Some time goes by. You’re reading about the Jell-O, how Betty Crocker said that it was great for parties and baby showers and other things like that. The slam of the glass door behind you startles you. You whip around, and there’s Joel with bright red cheeks, looking shocked and horrified. Through the glass door, you see Tommy in Joel’s yard. He waves at you, smiling. You wave back.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel grumbles, quickly pulling the blinds over the glass door to protect your modesty, “You gonna explain why you’re bare assed in my kitchen?”
“I thought you were sleeping,” you reply.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he grumbles, as the egg timer you set prior goes off with a ding. You open the oven and pull out the cinnamon rolls with a pair of potholders, giving Joel a perfect view of your entire ass. “Oh my god,” he groans. When you turn around, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, always so dramatic. You reach for the Pyrex measuring bowl full of icing you prepared and begin drizzling it over the warm cinnamon rolls. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You’re somethin’ else, you know that? I never know what–”, Joel stops speaking, and you look back at him once more. He’s intrigued, eyes wide. The pastry has pulled his attention away from your nearly-bare body. “Those uh– those cinnamon rolls?”
“Cinnabons,” you correct him, pointing to the embroidered logo on your chest, “But yeah– cinnamon rolls.”
“Right,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. He reaches into one of his drawers for a fork and pushes you out of the way. 
“Joel,” you complain as he steals a bite of the cinnamon rolls, right out of the pan. He blows on it first, careful not to burn his tongue. When he tastes the pastry, his eyes flutter shut. He moans softly. “You said once that you missed Cinnabons,” you explain, speaking softly. Joel reaches for another bite, right out of the pan.
“Mhm,” he mumbles, mouth full of dessert.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Cinnabon’s better,” he answers plainly. 
Your face drops. “What?”
“Yeah this–”, he takes another bite, “S’no good at all.”
He’s fucking with you. Probably gonna say something dumb like how you should give him the pan, let him dispose of those no good cinnamon rolls for you. “Dick,” you punch his arm for scaring you like that. He doesn’t mind. 
“You made these for me?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly, “For you.”
“For me,” he repeats, a soft smile on his face. You’re kind of baffled at his mood change, but you know what they say about men and food; the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, all that stuff. He steps closer to you, backing you against the countertop and turning off his oven, still wearing that smile, like he knows something you don’t.
“But I owe Tommy and Ellie one, too,” you continue, voice a little shaky. You’re nervous, why is he making you nervous? Joel sets his fork down and stares at you, lovingly, tenderly. “I made two batches before this, fucked both of those up. And then I ran out of sugar, actually. Tommy had to steal me some more.”
“I love you.”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks. He says it plainly, no frills. Just out with it. 
“You do?”
“Mhm,” he hums, “I do. Still would like an answer as to why you’re half-naked, though.”
Your face heats up. What were you saying? The cinnamon rolls, right. 
“I was– I don’t know. I had to knead the rolls by hand. The recipe said a stand mixer would be easier, but I didn’t…”, you trail off, feeling a little fuzzy, like you can’t think straight, your train of thought slipping away from you, “Didn’t have one. I love you too, actually.”
“I know,” he replies softly. He never doubted it for a second. Lord, he’s so handsome. His eyes sparkle more than usual, his fluffy curls untamed. The flannel he’s wearing suits him perfectly, and you can’t help but stare, stammering quietly. He reaches for your face with one hand, wrapping the other around your waist and pulling you close to his body, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
Oh, fuck. You squirm out from his hold, away from the counter he held you against. Joel looks absolutely baffled as you smile sheepishly. “Can you grab me a plate for the Cinnabons?”, you ask, “I need to leave one by Ellie’s door.”
“I’d like to kiss you first, if you don’t mind,” he says, walking towards you. You keep walking backwards, around the kitchen table. Joel follows you as you look through his drawers for a spatula, opening and closing cabinets with shaky hands as you try to find a plate. Where are his fucking plates? Joel reaches for your hand to stop you. “Will you let me kiss you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
Joel’s missing something here. Has to be. You love Joel. Joel loves you. That’s been established, just like, two minutes ago. And you’ve been intimate with him many times before. The next logical step in this series of very out of order steps would be to kiss you. Unless…“Are you nervous?”, he asks.
“About what?”, you ask, “Kissing?”
“No, underwater basket weaving. Yes, kissing,” he sighs, “You seem nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” you lie, “I’d just like to be the one to do it first.”
“Oh,” Joel replies, still a little confused, “Yeah, naturally. Makes sense.” He takes you by the hand and leads you to his living room, sits you on the couch and takes his place next to you. “Lay it on me, then.” 
“I can’t just–”
“You can,” he interrupts, coaxing you gently, “Come closer.” You scoot closer, but it’s not enough for Joel. Still wearing nothing but a thong and an apron, he lifts you by your ass and places you on his lap. Joel wears an expectant look on his face as you adjust yourself on his lap, feeling so awkward and out of your element. You’ve kissed people before, this should be no big deal. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous with Joel, especially when you’ve done everything else with him. 
“Joel, I– I don’t know where to put my hands.”
“Right here,” he whispers, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Or here,” he moves your hands to his jaw, his patchy beard prickly under your fingertips. “Wherever you want.”
“I like your shoulders,” you whisper, dropping your hands back to his shoulders. One of your hands slides to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls. 
“S’good,” he says. And oh, his eyes. Brown and so warm, inviting, so beautiful. 
“Close your eyes,” you demand, intimidated by his stare. “Sorry. Close your eyes,” you repeat, softer. 
“My bad,” Joel replies, his eyes now shut. You’ve never noticed how pretty his lashes are before now. They’re gorgeous, so long. “They’re closed now.”
“Okay,” you breathe. 
“You got it,” he encourages. 
God, this is daunting. You close your eyes, lean forward…and smooch him right on the cheek. There. Easy. 
“Doesn’t count,” Joel murmurs through a smile, eyes still closed. Fuck. You adjust yourself on his lap, lean forward and…nothing. Joel waits. And waits. And waits. 
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you say, trying to will yourself to just do it.
“Okay, sweetheart. You got it,” he whispers. But you don’t kiss him yet, and Joel keeps waiting, feeling himself beginning to grow hard as you keep squirming on his lap, adjusting yourself some more. “Hon?”
“Yeah?”
“Any minute, now.”
“I know,” you say, “I’m gonna kiss you.” But you adjust again. A minute passes with you on Joel’s lap as he waits patiently for you to finally kiss him. Another minute. And then you lean forward and – nothing. 
“I’m gonna count down from three, and then you’ll kiss me. How about that?”
Yeah, sounds like a plan. 
“Okay,” you reply. 
“Three…two…”, Joel counts, and you prepare once more to kiss him, “One,” Nothing. Joel sighs, “You’re killin’ me here.”
“I was about to do it, Joel.”
“Uh huh.”
“I was,” you argue, “You just keep talking and–”
“Oh, you’re so full of shit. You’re the one doin’ most of the talkin’, like usual.”
“That’s not true,” you argue, but are interrupted when he opens his eyes. That’s not supposed to happen. He wears a mischievous grin as he sits up and his hands begin to slide up your sides. Your already pounding heart begins to beat even harder, faster, because Jesus Christ, he seems like he’s about to kiss you. “What are you doing?”
“Ya got three more seconds to kiss me. Three…”
“Joel, not funny,” you scold as he takes your face in his hands. 
“Two…”
You’re beginning to panic, “Joel–”
And then he fucking kisses you, the bastard! No tongue, just a sweet, gentle peck. It’s despicable. You shove him back on the couch and glare at him, “You kissed me!”
“How awful,” Joel says with mock sympathy before he leans forward and kisses you again. You shove him again, harder.
“You asshole. I was gonna do it.”
“No, you weren’t,” he replies plainly. He tries to kiss you again, but you keep your hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the couch cushion. Joel’s smirking, but you’re scowling.
“Yes, I was.”
“Okay,” Joel laughs, “We can redo it, then.”
You sigh, “No, Joel, we cannot redo it. You already ruined it.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“Shit. S’too bad,” Joel feigns a sympathetic pout as he wraps both hands around your wrists that pin his shoulders, removing them from his body. He pushes your hands behind your back, holding them tightly as he kisses you again. And again, this time a little longer. Your lips begin to slide against his, and…god, they’re soft. The bastard.
“You’re ruining–”
“For the love of god, you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts,” Joel mumbles against your lips. 
“I was supposed to–”
“No. You had your turn. We’re doin’ it my way now,” Joel says, “That means,” he kisses you, “M’gonna kiss you,” another kiss, “And fuck you,” another kiss, “As I please, because I love you,” he whispers. He kisses you before he maneuvers you to lay across the couch cushions, now pinning your wrists above your head under just one of his hands “And you can’t do a thing about it. Got it?” 
“I–”
He doesn’t let you argue further. Always so stubborn, you. “Good girl. Yeah, you got it,” Joel kisses you again. It’s different this time. Deeper, hungrier, messier. So much tension, time spent dancing around feelings, and it’s all out there now. His tongue slides past your lips and he tastes like cinnamon and sugar. You’ve been depriving yourself of him for too long. “And after all this, I’m gonna eat some of them cinnabons you made. And I won’t share, either.”
With his free hand, Joel unzips his pants to free his cock. “You know what you do to me, trouble?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that squirmin’ ya did instead of kissin’ me,” Joel lifts the bottom of your apron up, exposing yourself to him, already dripping wet as he pulls off your soaked thong. You could have expected the ensemble wouldn’t have lasted long. And how are you already wet? One second you’re arguing about a stupid kiss and the next, he’s got you pinned beneath him and you’re dripping. You gasp as Joel gathers your slick with his fingers before stroking his cock, dipping his head back down to kiss you. He kisses your lips sloppily, then your cheek and down your jaw, your neck, nipping at the skin and soothing the marks with his tongue. It feels hot and passionate, and loving and dirty; all the best things at once. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he kisses further down your body, still stroking his cock. He pauses momentarily to pull the strap of the apron over your head, then lifting your ass to untie the apron in the back. He pulls the fabric away from you quickly, tossing it on the floor. He kisses your chest, dividing his attention equally between your breasts. Pinching, twisting one nipple, kissing and licking the other, then switching. He leaves them wet with his spit as he kisses down your body, stopping before he reaches your pussy. “Joel,” you whine, “Please– need your mouth on me.”
“Oh, convenient. Now you want my mouth,” he breathes, teasing you.
“Please, I need it, need you,” you beg. 
“Wouldn’t ya know it, I need your mouth too.”
“So? Me first.”
“God, you’re a brat. Nice try,” Joel pulls away from your body, taking off his clothes quickly, “Said we’re doin’ things my way. Tryin’ somethin’ new today. Scoot,” he motions for you to move to the side. “On all fours, now. Come on, up,” you scoot to the side where Joel tells you to, slightly confused as you take the position. Joel takes his place next to you, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to his face. “Sit,” he tells you.
“Joel,” you begin to protest. Surely he doesn’t want you to actually sit on his face, right?
“You trust me.” It’s not a question. He knows you trust him, he knows you know he’ll take care of you. Of course he will. His voice is firm, confident, “I need you to sit,” as he pulls your center to his mouth, wasting no time in pressing kisses into your folds, slick and sticky with your growing arousal. Your breasts are pressed against his soft stomach, hands gripping his meaty thighs. Freeing an arm from its place at your hip, Joel wraps his hand around his cock, rock hard with a swollen blushed tip. He uses his other hand to reach for your head, pushing your face towards his member. “Take me in your mouth,” he says. “See? We’re compromising. S’what people in love do.” What an asshole.
Wrapping a hand around his thick cock, you guide his tip to your mouth, pressing wet kisses against the smooth skin. He tastes like he always does, familiar and masculine, salty and sweaty, as you trace over his swollen veins with your tongue. Joel groans against your cunt as he parts your lips, your tongue still painting delicate swirls on his skin. 
“Yeah, attagirl,” he praises in a raspy voice, “Best of both worlds, ain’t it?” Joel laps at your cunt, moaning softly at the way you taste, your arousal almost as sweet and delicious as your cinnamon rolls from earlier. He keeps you held firm against his face as he licks you, alternating between drawing firm lines with the tip of his tongue and fat stripes with his tongue flattened. 
“Mmmm,” you moan, voice muffled by his cock. You’ve got him as deep as you can take him, your nose nudging his balls slightly as you cup them gently in your hand. Joel surprises you when he dips his tongue into your pussy, tasting every bit of your pussy. You stop what you’re doing, the only thing your mind can focus on is the feeling of his tongue working magic inside you.
He swats your hip, “Know it feels good, but it goes both ways, sweetheart.”
“Please, Joel,” you beg. 
“You know the rules,” he says, “You stop, I stop. Keep goin’, you’re suckin’ my cock so good, sweetheart. So good. Always do, you know that?” You begin to bob your head on his cock once more, Joel rewarding you with wet, sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your pussy. It takes everything you have to focus on his pleasure when he attaches his lips to your clit, sucking gently on the sensitive spot and humming against you. It’s not long before that familiar feeling begins to build in your stomach, your first orgasm washing over you. 
You gasp for air, “Oh my god, Joel,” as he works you through your climax. Joel never lets up, not once. He keeps sucking, licking your clit, his facial hair tickling your skin and only adding to the overwhelming sensation. Once more, your peak begins to build. “I’m– fuck, I’m gonna come again.” 
“S’the fuckin’ point, my love,” Joel mumbles quietly, and you can feel his smirk. Despite the rules, you’re not even sucking his cock anymore, your face instead resting on his body, haphazardly stroking his length as pleasure erupts from your core. You’re a moaning mess, pussy dripping and soaking Joel’s face. 
Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath. Underneath you, he places one last kiss right on your clit before he gently slides himself out from your body. You’re hardly coherent as he meets you once more, this time his face inches above yours, caging you in his arms. His cock bounces between your legs and he leans down to kiss you again. His lips are wet and you can taste your arousal on his tongue. “Look at that, I stole another one,” he taunts. 
“You’re a dick,” you breathe against his mouth, your body betraying you as you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips.
“Yeah, yeah,” and in one swift motion, Joel lines himself up with your entrance and pushes into you. He kisses you again, swallowing your gasp as he parts your insides, letting you feel every inch of him. God, he feels good. You’ll never tire of that stretch, that delicious feeling of being completely full of him. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan. He pulls out slowly, then slides back in at a harsher pace, grunting when he bottoms out inside of you. He takes both of your hands in his own, pinning them above your head as he rocks his hips. It’s tender yet dominant, just how everything is with Joel. Just how you like him. 
“Love this pussy,” he purrs, “An’ I love you so much,” as he fucks you deeply, intensely. You whimper through his thrusts, each stroke fluid and firm and intentional. He knows your body like his own. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. You always do.”
You writhe underneath him, relishing in the pleasure he gives you. His name and sweet whisperings of love are all you can speak, each word coming out in soft, broken cries. The wet, sticky noises of your pussy fill the room, along with your moans and Joel’s grunting, groaning, and heaving breaths. You tilt your head to the side, arms still pinned beneath Joel’s hands. You kiss his wrists and bite his skin there gently.
“Come with me, baby,” he coos, adjusting the angle and finding that sweet spot inside you, that spot he knows and loves. He lets go of your arms, one of his big, masculine hands now on your waist, the other thumbing your clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart.”
It’s all it takes. His words send you over the edge, your pussy squeezing him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. “Fuck, Joel,” you whimper as he fucks you through your orgasm. You wrap your legs around his body, the heels of your feet bouncing against his ass, simultaneously pulling him into a tight embrace with your now free arms. Everything about this moment with Joel is perfect, the way he smells, his hot skin, how close and safe you feel with him. It sends Joel over the edge, too. With your name on his lips, your cunt gushing and pulsing around his cock, he spills inside you, painting ribbons of himself deep inside you as he helps you ride out your own climax as long as he can. 
He pulls out of you with a soft groan. He cleans you quickly with his t-shirt, a warm smile on his lips. He kisses your forehead, then sits back against the couch, catching his breath. You sit up too, and Joel holds out his arm as an invitation for you to curl into his side. Your head resting on his shoulder, you stare at him. All of his beautiful features, warm brown eyes, his smile lines, his aquiline nose. And then, you do it. You kiss him. Long and deep, passionate. Hours could be passing, you don’t know. 
Joel breaks the kiss. He pulls away from you, no longer smiling warmly. Instead, he wears his teasing grin. “Finally,” he smirks. He holds up his hand for a high five. Fucker. You roll your eyes, lifting yourself off the couch and buttoning Joel’s flannel over yourself. You make your way to the kitchen, finding a plate and placing two cinnamon rolls on them. You reach for an old pencil that sits on the window sill, scribbling ‘Ellie’ on a piece of nearby scratch paper and leaving it next to the plate. A deal is a deal, after all. 
“Don’t leave me hangin’, now,” Joel calls out to you from the living room. You turn around and he’s waving his hand, nagging you about his abandoned high five. 
You flip him off. Asshole. 
1K notes · View notes
crushribbons · 3 months
Text
𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊
summary: Sebastian Sallow should have been a Ravenclaw. (series masterlist)
cw: 4.6k words, pining, fluff, very light angst, smut (18+ ONLY), male masturbation *cough*saltburn*cough*, sexual imagery, Sebastian in a towel 😵‍💫
a/n: this if my first HL fic :) feedback welcome and requests are open! req rules here. enjoy xx laney
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“Mr. Sallow! Would you care to join the rest of the class in absorbing the information I am teaching? I suspect the grounds will still look just as they do now after the period has ended.” 
The wave of suppressed, tittering laughter fluttered around the room and died quickly as Professor Weasley turned back to the parrot on her desk. Sebastian yanked his head off his upturned palm and away from the window he’d been staring out of. Rain was pouring down in resolute sheets and turning the lush Hogwarts grounds to murky mud. Absolutely no good for a flying match against Imelda, because the witch was so talented at flying in any condition, it almost guaranteed that the outcome of their “friendly” wager would be ten less galleons in his already light pockets. 
He turned his attention, or at least tried to, back to the parrot. Weasley had been droning on for so long that he could no longer remember whether it had started as a parrot or if it had been a picnic basket first. He doubted that in his day-to-day life he would find much use for turning either into either.
“Dreamy dreamer,” murmured a voice to his left, and he swiveled his head still further to catch the eye of the witch sitting next to him. She was balancing her head on her fist and smirking to herself.
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Dreamy, he was. The Transfiguration classroom was as cold as the grounds were sure to be, but when he remembered that his favorite classmate was seated mere inches from him, he suddenly found his cheeks to be unbearably hot. 
She had plummeted into his life, in the wake of a dragon attack, nearly three years ago now, and Sebastian had never been so instantly intrigued with anyone before. He was intrigued particularly because she refused to tell so little about her past, her travels, herself, that he couldn’t help but be drawn toward this talented little mystery that demanded solving. 
“So,” he had said, on only her second morning at the castle, sidling up to her as soon as he found her not flanked by Professor Fig whispering in harsh, muted tones. “Entrance, pursued by a dragon, is it?” She had whipped around to face him. Her smile was enough to make his knees crumple and he felt a little taken aback. No one had mentioned that the dragon tamer was ludicrously beautiful.
“I fared slightly better than poor old Antigonus, though, don’t you think?” His breath had stuttered in his chest for a moment. Oh, he liked her already. She introduced herself and asked for his name. 
“I’m Sebastian Sallow, but how’d you get here, after the dragon? And where from? And why do all the professors seem so concern–”
“Sebastian Sallow, I think the Sorting Hat may have missed the mark with you. Only a Ravenclaw could be so curious,” she’d deadpanned with a glint in her eyes that told him she was thoroughly enjoying the obscurity surrounding her arrival at Hogwarts. She gave his Slytherin tie a gentle brush with her forefinger and then she was gone. As she’d clipped away towards the Great Hall for breakfast, robes swishing behind her and the imprint of her finger swiping across his chest still present, his jaw had hung slack. He later inwardly punished himself for calling hoarsely after her,
“N-no, I’m a Slytherin!” Very witty, Sallow.
They became friends quickly after that. When he sat down in the first Transfiguration class of fifth year and found himself elbow to elbow with her, he prayed to every deity he could remember that he could manage not to fuck up talking to her this time. And he didn’t; their chats and whispered estimations as to how long it would take Ominis to fall asleep after lecture started and notes passed to one another were the highlight of his week–no, his year. Before his sixth and seventh years, a well-placed and distracting bottle of port had been enough for him to slip into Professor Black’s office long enough to fix the Transfiguration schedule and ensure those highlights would last.
When she’d first asked him to show her how to get in the Restricted Section of the library, however, he’d realized that this witch was not just adventurous outside of school. It had taken all his nerve and self-control not to stare at her bum as they snuck through the library doors and past Scribner’s watchful, hawkish gaze. Reaching the section unscathed and unnoticed was old hat for Sebastian at that point, but it gave his companion such a thrill that she threw her arms around his neck and squealed in delight. Sebastian remained stiff as a board while congratulating her, so as not to reveal that he was, in fact, stiff as a board.
Now, in the never-ending void that was Professor Weasley’s lectures, Sebastian tore a corner off the ancient copy of Transfiguring the Tedious in front of him and scrawled on the paper with his quill. He slid it along the table to her hand and bumped it against her pinky. The pinky surreptitiously rose to slide the scrap under her palm, her eyes never leaving the demonstration at the front of the class. It was so subtle that he would have hardly believed she’d received his note if they hadn’t practiced this fine art of espionage about ten times already that period.
She opened the note under their desk and read what he’d written. Please, if you’ve any humanity, you’ll kill me and save me from this torture. Her lips immediately pressed together hard to contain a snort. She moved the paper back to the top of the desk and jotted down a response. When the paper landed in Sebastian’s lap, he glanced down.
And leave me here to endure it all alone? I think not, birdie.
Birdie. Birdie, as in, should have been a Ravenclaw; birdie, as in, his favorite thing in the world to be called. Whenever his peppering questions regarding her whereabouts during the day or what she did over the summer break (out in the Highlands exploring and assisting and digging and Merlin knows what else!) caused her to throw down a book with a huff or break into a sweet, clear laugh, she would cry, “Enough, birdie! I swear I’ll get that dodgy old hat to put you where you belong!”
Sebastian couldn’t recall when she’d gone from being an interesting new classmate with a secret she kept under her cloak to the reason he was excited to wake up in the morning. At some point, while they grew closer and he had shared his anxieties and fears for Anne, he had realized that he did not want her to bump elbows and waggle eyebrows at that Weasley kid when she passed him in the hall. He had realized around the same time that he did not want Poppy Sweeting to be the one who took her to Hogsmeade every weekend to giggle over butterbeers. 
The pieces of this puzzle slowly continued to arrange themselves over the years, such as that time in Crossed Wands when she had knelt before his crouched body to make sure the gash on his eyebrow wasn’t too deep. She gripped his forearm to steady them both and hissed when she saw the damage to his freckled forehead. “Come here,” she had murmured, and Sebastian was sure that the stone floors were going to open up and swallow him whole as she lightly traced her wand over the cut and it healed into a dark line. “I think it suits you.” 
“I was looking a bit too soft anyway, don’t you think?” He chuckled, touching the healed scar. 
“If it still hurts tomorrow, I’ll kiss it for you.”
As he rose back to his feet, his brain wanted him to shout “Can I have that in writing?!” but instead he opted for the much more suave option: “I can kiss it myself just fine.” 
He ought to have sealed his own mouth permanently with the binding curse. 
The point was, he finally drew the conclusion that he was madly in love with this woman, for she really had blossomed from a somewhat timid new fifth-year student into a self-assured and confident (not to mention talented and brilliant) young woman. It made Sebastian’s heart glad to watch this transformation over the years. The only thing that could make his heart gladder, he was sure, would be her hand in his. 
In an act of blissful mercy, Professor Weasley ended her lesson at the appointed time she always did. “And remember!” She called shrilly over the din of twenty 18-year-olds rushing to shove books into bags and be done with thinking for the day, “Bird transfiguration will figure heavily into the N.E.W.T.s, so practice as much as you can! I have picnic baskets available for those who wish to borrow them.”
“Are you gonna take one?” Sebastian asked the witch to his left, who was sweeping her parchment and quills haphazardly into her leather satchel.
“No, I don’t think I need to practice much. I’ve already got my own little birdie.” Then she actually pinched his cheek in her fingers. Sebastian’s skin turned bright red at the contact, and his insides took flight in an awkward but not uncomfortable way at her words: My own little…
Was she trying to kill him? This had to be the flirting that Ominis insisted was always occurring between the two of them. Usually, Sebastian had no problem at all recognizing and reciprocating attention from the opposite sex, but something about this particular witch made his head go mushy as the mud they avoided as they walked across the courtyard, robes pulled up over their head to avoid the downpour as they dashed towards the Great Hall.
Her affectionate nickname did sometimes feel like a deflection on her part, an attempt to infantilize him into a permanent position of friendship. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, quite frankly. He adored hearing it so much, although only from her lips. As they splashed through the courtyard, he recalled the time Imelda, hoping to goad him during Quidditch practice, had shouted “Come ON, birdie, and FLY, dammit!” He’d sent a bludger straight at his team’s captain, causing her to careen off course with a fresh string of obscenities. 
And down, deep down, buried in the depths of the shameful part of Sebastian that held all guilt and impurities, he wanted nothing more than to hear that nickname leave her mouth in a gasp as their bodies pressed together in his empty dormitory. His shame at this well-visited fantasy was not eclipsed by his desire for her, however, and he far too frequently found himself rushing back to his bed after their shared classes and repeating her sweet words to himself as he tugged his pants down and slid the curtains of his four-poster shut. He hoped today’s rain might cleanse him of his sins just a bit, because that old routine was currently all he had planned for the evening.
Once they found shelter inside, robes still dripping and hair plastered to their forehead, his friend turned to him. “I’m drenched,” she said cheerfully. Even though it was true, she still looked a vision, her bright eyes shining in the low light and smile always in place. “I’m going to go change before dinner…say, are you still flying Imelda?” She glanced back outside at the deluge. “For your sake, I hope not.”
Sebastian put his hand to his heart, feigning offense. “Are you insinuating that I couldn’t beat the most Quidditch-obsessed witch in the school just because of a little rain?” She pursed her lips, and he could tell she was about to fire back with a witty reply; he felt his head swim a little, as it always did when they bantered back and forth, possibly resulting in a playful shove or tweaked nose that he would think about for hours later. 
Suddenly, the Quidditch-obsessed witch in question came barreling around the corner, eyes fiery, and yelled, “Sallow! Outside, now!” Sebastian groaned, partly because he most certainly did not want to race Imelda right now, and partly because the girl he’d much rather be spending time with gave him a wink and departed to her dormitory with a muttered “Good luck, birdie.”
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When he trudged into the Great Hall an hour later, sopping from head to toe and more mud than man at this point, he caught her eye at the dinner table and dropped his broom unceremoniously on the ground. She got up to fuss over him as he plopped down beside her and began eating everything in sight. 
“Did you–?”
“Does it look like I did?” he grumbled around a mouthful of chicken.
“It looks like you challenged the ground to a race and lost, my dear.” 
He may as well have. The second Samantha had blown the whistle to start the race, Imelda had taken off like a perfect missile of pure speed, whipping through the hoops at the other end of the field before Sebastian could even kick off. From there, well…he decided it might save him a small bit of face if he told her he only fell off his broom once.
“Poor thing, poor thing!” She tutted, brushing the grimy locks of hair from his forehead. The food Sebastian was swallowing got caught in his throat at the contact and he choked. Ominis got up from his position on the other side of this accidental seductress and whacked Sebastian hard on the back without looking up from the copy of the Daily Prophet he was running his wand over. Once the food made its way safely to his stomach, Sebastian cleared his throat. 
“I’m a mess, I ought to go clean up,” he said. Truthfully, he knew he needed a wash to clean his body, but his trousers were also becoming tighter and tighter the longer he spent with her. He needed some time in a hot bath with nothing but his thoughts.
She smiled and swiped a line of dirt from his cheek. There was no other explanation–she was trying to kill him. His pulse hammered every time they touched, and especially hard when–
“Dirty birdie,” she giggled, and it was too much for him. Sebastian shoved back the bench he was sitting on and clambered haphazardly to his feet. 
“I’m going to go, er, to, uh, the–see you later!” 
He all but ran from the Great Hall, barely pausing to snatch his broom from where he’d left it. Merlin’s beard, this was getting out of hand. He wanted to spend time with her, but at the rate things were going, all his thoughts would be consumed with the idea of getting her naked and he doubted he’d make for a very good friend then. Adventurous and devil-may-care as she was, she was still a lady, after all. His uncle hadn’t taught him much, but he’d taught him how to respect a woman, and no part of that instruction had included zoning out mid-conversation with that woman and wondering if she cried when she came. Or if he could make her.
“Pull yourself together, pull yourself together,” he grunted as he made his way to the dungeons and told the ornate silver snake at the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory the password it required. Imelda was standing in the common room, engaged in telling the story of Sebastian’s spectacular fall(s), but he didn’t even stop to acknowledge when she called, “And there’s the man himself, the Miraculous Mud-Eater!” He blew past her and the gaggle of Slytherins gathered around the fire, all chuckling at his appearance. Their words fell on deaf ears. The only words ringing around Sebastian’s increasingly empty head were, “My own little birdie…my own little dirty…”
He closed his eyes and swayed on the stairs, gripping the bannister for support. The erection that had been encroaching since Transfiguration was close to blinding him with desire by now. Banging open the door to the seventh-year dormitory, he ignored whomever said, “Alright, Seb?” and snatched up the bath towel flung over his trunk. Then, he was out of the common room as quickly as he’d entered it. 
The nearest bathroom was only a hallway away from the Slytherin dorm, but no one ever used it. Ice cold was the only water temperature available for a bath, and the stone floors were somehow permanently covered in a layer of frost, due to the position of the dungeons underneath the Black Lake. Sebastian sprinted past the door, then skidded to a halt. Perhaps freezing and dingy was alright if it meant quiet and empty, too.
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Leaning back against the cold granite of the bathtub, Sebastian finally let out a long sigh. The water had practically given him frostbite when it first came out of the faucet, but after far too long a while, it had warmed to a humane temperature, and he used his wand to heat it until it actually felt good to strip and slide into it. His muddy clothes lay in a heap next to the tub, long forgotten. All that mattered to Sebastian now was the feeling of his hand wrapping around his aching cock and the thought of her voice, sweet and clear and sinful as hell.
It always started the same way. On his first stroke, he conjured the image of her healing his cut in Crossed Wands, only in this version, he actually acted on his instincts and pulled her in by her neck for a searing kiss. Naturally, in this perfect little fantasy, she melted into him with a moan every time, and suddenly, the dueling stage was gone, and the two of them were crashing into an empty classroom and making out furiously. Sebastian pictured the feeling of her, desperate and needy for him, hopping up onto a desk so she could wrap her legs around his waist and grind against him. 
A whimpered and whiny “Fuck, fuck, fuck” left his lips as he tipped his head back against the cold floor. The hand that he wasn’t using steadied him against the bathtub stairs, foamy soap drifting around him and cleaning the dirt from his body. He wondered absently, fucking his hips into his hand, what she looked like when she took a bath. Her clothes falling away, the sight of her ass as she slowly descended into the tub, and the soapy water running down her tits. 
Sebastian was a tit man, through and through, and this latest imagined pornography had him tipping dangerously close to the edge. As he stroked himself harder and faster, water pulsating gently around him, he pictured her swimming over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck (the scent of her hair from when she’d done the same in the library filled his brain). “Little birdie,” she was whispering, and Sebastian swore he could almost taste and feel her. “Aren’t you curious about what it feels like to fuck me?”
Merlin’s fucking sake, of course he was! Back in reality, he swore and groaned as he neared his precipice. A full day of aching for this woman should have had him on the edge of coming almost instantly, but he slowed his hand just for a moment, wanting to savor the idea of her. Her, who he was most definitely sickly in love with, even though she’d had two other relationships since her time here and never expressed interest in him in any other way than friendly ribbing. 
“Oh, baby, Go-oood,” he whined under his breath, because now, in the bathtub of his dream, she was straddling his cock and sinking onto it, her heat wrapped around him like the most perfect silk glove. Then she was moving, bouncing up and down with her arms still clutching his neck and whimpering his name over and over. 
“Seb, Seb, it feels so-s-soo–fuck!” she cried, and Sebastian wished more than anything that his hands were digging into her hips instead of his own as he bit back a groan and panted. Her tits, heaving in front of his face, looked so marvelous that he couldn’t stop his imaginary self from leaning forward and catching a nipple between his teeth. The scream that tore from her lips at the sensation was enough to make him come, and the realization that she’d probably be clamped down on his cock like a vice actually did. 
He let out a hoarse cry, his vision leaving him for a moment, and then his sticky load was being spurted into the water. The relief felt almost better than the orgasm itself, tense as he had been all day. 
He really needed to pull himself together in regards to this witch. 
After he’d regained the ability to think, speak, and move, Sebastian finished his bath as if nothing at all had happened. He quickly vanished his cum from the water so that he could dip below the surface to wash his hair. As he scrubbed his skin with a sponge from the massive carved wooden cabinet that held the bath supplies, the guilt started seeping back in. She was his friend, and that was all, and that was clearly all she wanted. In the wake of finally coming, the words “little birdie” seemed more condescending than sweet. There was no romance behind them; she clearly saw him the same way she saw that first-year Hufflepuff who’d given her a single flower with shaking hands and nearly vomited while asking her to go to the Yule Ball with him. She’d given a very polite, “How sweet you are!” then explained with mock regret that she would be away for the holidays, and would not be able to attend with him.
That was Sebastian: a hapless little boy in love with a girl who was too kind to say anything about it. He mentally added three more layers of clothes to her as he thought of her, out of respect.
When he rose out of the water and looked to where he’d placed his clean pajamas, he saw with a lurch that he hadn’t put his clean pajamas anywhere. A moan of horror escaped him when he pictured them where they actually were: at the bottom of his trunk. In his haste to get in here and rub one out to the thought of his friend, he’d forgotten to grab them.
The only fabric available to him were the muddied and disgusting robes he’d raced in, or the towel currently wrapped around his waist. Sebastian glanced out the bathroom window. The moon over the Black Lake was high in the sky, and his shoulders drooped a little in relief at the thought that most everyone ought to be in bed right now, and he wouldn’t have to walk half-naked through a packed common room. 
Dirty robes safely in the laundry hamper, Sebastian secured the towel around his waist as best he could before poking his head down the hall. It was deserted, the only audible sound the soft whoooosh of the draining bathtub behind him. He exhaled, stepped into the hall, and began half-walking, half-running towards the Slytherin dormitories, leaving wet footprints in his wake.
He had almost made it to safety when the last, the absolute last voice he wanted to hear on the planet, yelped, “Oops!” from behind him. Whirling on the spot, mere feet away from the dormitory door, he locked eyes with his girl.
“What on earth are you doing down here?!” He scream-whispered in indignation, clutching the towel tightly around his waist Her eyes were the size of dinner plates, taking in his tousled wet hair, bare torso that was not at the physical peak he wished it was, and the thin grey towel that was threatening to slide further south at any minute. “It’s the middle of the damn night!” 
“I-I’m…” This was his worst nightmare. Getting caught quite literally with his pants down and the girl of his dreams was stifling laughter at the sight. He turned away from her, determined to lock himself inside the dormitory and never come out. Maybe if he took a draught of living death he could sleep for the rest of the term.
“Seb, hang on!” she laughed, darting towards him as he told the snake his password and lifted a leg to try and clamber inside. He paused and looked back at her, if only because he wasn’t really sure how he was going to gracefully lift himself with only a towel around his waist. “I sent you an owl but never heard back!” she said. “There’s leftover cherry tart in the kitchens from dinner, and I snuck you some.” She held out the tart and his heart twisted into a knot. His favorite. The fantasies he’d made up about her mere minutes ago now seemed doubly inappropriate as he saw the real thing, clad in an innocent nightgown and thick wooly robe. 
“Oh. Thanks.” He took the dessert. They both stood motionless for a second. She was tactfully looking everywhere except at his body. Sebastian prayed for death. “Well, I’m naked, so–”
“Right! I’m sorry! You just darted out of dinner so fast…” She trailed off. Sebastian grunted noncommittally and readjusted his grip on the towel. His head was starting to sweat from embarrassment. “Well, good night, anyway,” she said, trying to muster an awkward smile.
“Good night,” He responded through gritted teeth. “Thanks again for this, it looks great.” With that, he turned around and clambered very clumsily, but fully covered, through the dormitory door. 
As he lay in bed that night, Sebastian replayed the whole fiasco in his head a hundred times. He wondered what she thought of what she saw, or if she would discuss it with anyone. It wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned her seeing him nude for the first time. She certainly didn’t seem impressed. And he’d been so rude to her, when all she’d done was bring him a treat.
He covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. “Shut up,” huffed Ominis from the bed next to him. He was a light sleeper and the slightest sound could stir him.
“Give me one of your sleeping potions.”
“Fine, if it’ll knock you out so I don’t have to.”
Sebastian got out of bed and quietly opened the trunk at the foot of Ominis’ bed, feeling around for the small cylindrical bottles the Gaunt boy always kept on-hand for sleepless nights. He found one, uncorked it, and drained the contents.
He had just stumbled back into bed, the effects of the potion working through his blood immediately and making his eyes heavy as boulders, when he noticed a small piece of paper on the windowsill by his bed. Undoubtedly, this was from the owl she had sent him. He managed to throw one leaden arm up to snatch it and bring it an inch away from his eyes so he could make out the delicate writing in the near-darkness of the bedroom
A little birdie told me he liked cherry tart, so I saved him some. I’ll bring it to you in a bit. 
Sleep overtook him.
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Back in her own bedroom, the letter writer lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling. She hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought all night. Poppy had asked her what was wrong, why she was being so quiet. She had shrugged and gone off to bed, but the lingering ache persisted between her legs.
Had Sebastian Sallow always been that fucking gorgeous?
pt. 2
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sodaabaa · 4 months
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birthday 
anthony bridgerton x wife!reader wife!reader is excited to celebrate her husband’s first birthday since they got married only to wake up and find anthony missing. she takes a trip to mayfair to ask the bridgerton family where anthony has disappeared to.
tw: grief, mentions of a parent's death.
a/n: hi everyone, wanted to take a second to just thank you for all the support. i started writing these just for fun and decided on an impulse to start posting my writings, not expecting them to get past even 15 likes! i really enjoyed writing this oneshot and navigating anthony's feelings in this one. let me know if you'd like to see a part 2 within this story line or similar stories within the bridgerton universe!
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The first rays of dawn broke through the curtains, pulling Y/N from her sleep. She reached to the side, feeling the bed for her husband to find only the absence of his warmth. She sat up, it was unusual for Anthony to be gone so early in the morning. The two of them had a habit of starting their mornings together before he went off to tend to business, the vacant spot on the bed puzzled her – today was Anthony’s thirtieth birthday, the first one they would spend married. She already had a plan for the day; dotingly wake him up with kisses in all the spots he loved, take their breakfast in bed (a special one at that – she requested the cooks to make his favorite marmalade with the first plums of the season), pack a basket with light sandwiches and his favorite wine to picnic by a nearby lake, and end the night with his most favorite activity. Y/N pouted, upset that her plans had been foiled by his absence. She pushed the duvet off and dressed herself, wondering what possibly could have been important enough for him to leave without telling her. 
“Amelia,” she called out to one of the maids. Amelia had been working at Aubrey Hall for years, she knew the ins and outs of this place like the back of her hand, maybe she’d seen Anthony this morning? 
“Yes, my lady?”
“Did you happen to see the viscount this morning?”
“No, my lady. My apologies,” she paused, “though – you may want to check with the dowager viscountess.”
She tilted her head in confusion, “Whatever for?” 
Amelia fiddled with the rag in her hands.
“Amelia, what is it?”
“Every year, on the viscount’s birthday he…disappears. He usually slips out before dawn when we’re all just getting started with the day. But we’ve never seen where he goes.” 
Y/N’s confusion only deepened. Amelia waited for Y/N to dismiss her – she did so, waving a hand and offering a gracious smile for the information she provided. Amelia exited with a curtsy, leaving Y/N with no choice but to pay the Bridgerton clan a visit. Perhaps they could give her some insight into her husband’s mysterious birthday habit.
She managed to reach Mayfair before the sun had peaked in the sky. The carriage approached Bridgerton House, Y/Npeered through to see if Anthony might be somewhere around. He was nowhere to be found, much to her dismay. She stood before the double doors of Bridgerton House, signaling to the footman to announce her arrival. In the blink of an eye, her favorite Bridgerton sibling came running to the door.
“Y/N! How lovely it is to see you!” Eloise exclaimed, pulling her in for a hug. She returned the hug, grateful for the way Eloise managed to instantly raise Y/N’s spirits. Violet followed Eloise, a knowing smile on her face. Y/N pulled away from Eloise’s tight embrace to greet Violet.
“Can’t seem to find Anthony, can you dearest?” Violet said when she pulled away from their hug.
“I see this is a regular occurrence then?” She replied, feeling left out – why had no one bothered to inform her of this habit of his? She would have saved herself from the disappointment of foiled plans. 
“Come in, you’ll catch a chill if you stand at the door any longer,” Violet ushered them upstairs. 
“Y/N!” Hyacinth and Gregory were the next to greet her as she walked into the drawing room.
She gave the two little Bridgertons a hug, commenting on how tall Gregory had gotten and the length of Hyacinth’s curly hair. The pair immediately began updating her on all the things they’d gotten up to while Y/N was gone – though they didn’t get far.
“Hyacinth, Gregory – please give Y/N a moment to rest from her trip. I’m sure she’d love to hear all about your mischief later,” Violet said. The inseparable duo pouted for a moment before taking a seat in their usual spot. Y/N herself took a between Violet and Eloise, turning to ask her more about her husband's whereabouts.
“Do you know where he goes off to? Surely his mother might know.” 
“I’m afraid I do not. I do, however, know the reason he disappears,” Violet looked over at her youngest children, ensuring they were engrossed in whatever they were doing before continuing. 
“Since Edmund died, there has not been a birthday where he does not run off like this. It started when he turned ten and nine. I know it has something to do with his father, I am certain, but I cannot figure out where he goes. The first year, I checked Edmund’s grave to no avail. I’ve searched and searched my mind for places that held significance to Edmund, to Anthony,” she explained, throwing her hands up with a defeated sigh.
Y/N took a moment to process Violet’s revelation, guilt slowly eating her up. She had been so involved with her ownplans for Anthony’s birthday and then felt so disappointed but all this time, he was taking time to grieve. Her heart shattered for her husband – her valiant, loving, sweetheart of a husband. 
“If I may,” Eloise cut in with the raise of a finger, “perhaps he simply despises the concept of birthdays and wishes to avoid all the commotion by hiding out in some pub somewhere?”
“Eloise!” Violet exclaimed.
“My, my, what do we have here? Viscountess Bridgerton has come to visit us!” Benedict interrupted the three women on the sofa, shooting a warm smile towards Y/N.
“Benedict, it’s lovely to see you,” she replied. She rose from her seat, giving Benedict a quick embrace before he took his seat across from them.
“Allow me to guess – Anthony’s disappeared?”
Y/N nodded, “I don’t suppose you happen to know where?”
Benedict clicked his tongue, “I’m afraid not.” 
She sighed, “Well, when does he usually return then?”
“The next day. And to make matters worse, he acts as if it were totally normal, avoiding all questions about his whereabouts until you simply surrender trying to figure it out,” Benedict said.
That night, Y/N retired to their bedroom though she had no intentions of sleep – how could she manage to when her husband was off God knows where, in what condition. It kept her up with worry, so she decided she’d stay up and wait for his return. Staring at the walls had become tortuous as the hours droned by, she wrapped herself in a robe and made her way toward Anthony’s study. Perhaps she could find something here to clue her into her husband's habit. She poured herself a glass of Anthony’s whiskey, choking down the bitter liquid, and sat back on his chair with a sigh.
She looked around the dimly lit room, a portrait of Anthony’s father hung up to the left of the desk. She wondered what he was like, Anthony rarely ever spoke of him. Her heart ached at the thought of her husband at eighteen, witnessing what he’d witnessed and resuming to take on the mantle that’d belonged to his father in the midst of such trauma. Her eyes scanned the painting – catching on a pocket watch in her late father-in-law’s hand. She stood, leaning in to get a closer look at the watch. Realization dawned on her. This was Anthony’s pocket watch – well, it had been his father’s but this was the same watch he carried with him everywhere. She had noticed early on his habit of checking the time almost obsessively. She always wondered why he had such a fascination with time. 
I could never surpass my father. He was a greater man than I. Anthony’s words echoed in her mind.
It all fell into place – clicking like a lock in her mind.
She ran back upstairs, rushing to wear something more appropriate. She quietly ran back downstairs, grabbing her cloak on the way out. The September days were cool and refreshing but the nights were cooler, which Y/N usually savored but the cold air only increased her adrenaline tonight, causing a chill to run down her spine.
She summoned a carriage, willing it to come faster as it approached her. 
“To the chapel, please.”
As the carriage moved closer to the chapel, she could make out the vague silhouette of a man sitting on a park bench facing the clock in the center. The moonlight illuminated the small square, the scene before her looked to be straight out of a painting. She stepped out of the carriage, rushing towards the silhouette.
She stood behind him for a moment, afraid to disrupt him – afraid of what his reaction might be. She knew her husband preferred to grieve alone but this was beyond grief; Anthony feared his birthdays, feared the clock running out of time. 
“Anthony?” 
The man in front of her startled, inhaling as he turned around. She sighed in relief.
“How did you find me here?” He said, motioning for her to sit with him.
She walked around the bench, placing a kiss on her husband’s forehead as she sat beside him.
“Your pocket watch.” 
He let out a breathy laugh, a humorless action. He held the watch, thumb circling its frame.
“You are not bound to time, Anthony,” she said gently.
He looked up at her, eyes red from the long day he must have had.
“Are we all not bound to time? Some simply have less.”
“You cannot know that for certain, dearest.”
“I know I am less of a man than my father was yet he merely had eight and thirty years,” his voice was hoarse.
“You are just as much of a man as he was. You’ve fought so hard for this family, do not belittle your efforts,” she took his face in her hands.
She wished she could show him how much of a man he truly was. He'd raised his siblings and taken on the burden of being a viscount to allow for his brothers to pursue their dreams. He ensured his sisters were well provided for and he dealt with his mother's grief for years -- all without complaint. Because of this, it was a privilege to call Anthony her husband, if only he could see himself how she saw him.
“You are not leaving me behind in a mere eight years, Anthony Bridgerton. I will fight death himself if that is to be the case.”
He chuckled, a hint of real joy behind his eyes as he did.
“I have no doubt you would give it a valiant effort, my love.” 
He leaned forward, placing a kiss on her lips.
“It’s late and cold, shall we head back to the house?” 
She nodded, grateful to return her husband to where he belonged – at her side, with his family surrounding them.
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lalunalando · 5 months
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The Love You Want - LN4
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warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, fluff (may make you cry a little), angst, swearing, slight degradation, thigh riding, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)
songs referenced: The Love You Want - Sleep Token / Granite - Sleep Token
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2 years.
It’s been 2 whole years since the love of your life walked out your front door after telling you it was over, he couldn’t handle the relationship alongside his career anymore, and that he never actually loved you.
So imagine the surprise you felt when you stepped out of your apartment elevator after returning from a long day of work, only to find him sitting at your door, a basket of dog toys and a bunch of your favorite flowers in hand…
“Lan? Wha-When did you get here? What are you even doing here?” You asked, shock evident on you face as you stood frozen like you’d seen a ghost.
“Oh thank god you didn’t move! I was hoping I wasn’t waiting outside some random apartment and about to scare a stranger” he chuckled, the sound that once felt like home to you now leaving your stomach feeling instantly nauseous.
“Lando, don’t avoid the question. What are you doing here?” You huff as you brush past him, opening your apartment door finally and stepping inside to put your belongings down knowing this probably wasn’t going to be a quick conversation by any means.
“Do you mind if I come in? This really isn’t a talk I want to have out here in the hallway..” he asks awkwardly, gauging your reactions and movements, expecting you to even slam the door in his face after the last time you both spoke. He deserved that, he knows it, but he really hopes you’ll let him in because he has so much he wants to say to you.
You move out of the doorway to let him through with a sigh that doesn’t go unnoticed, twisting at his heart knowing he’s at fault for how this is making you feel.
After closing the door behind him, you turn around and nod towards the dog toy basket with a confused look.
“Oh, I was hoping the pups were still here to give them to, I miss our kids…” he says as he looks down at the floor, suddenly wondering if it was still okay to call them “ours” as if he didn’t walk out on you all.
“They do, they’re just having a play date with the neighbors while I was at work, they’ll be dropped off in an hour” you respond as you head to the fridge, suddenly the bottle of wine in the fridge is seeming very tempting to crack open… “so Lando, I’m going to ask one more time, what are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can get out in the moment, he knows there’s a million other things he wants to say, but he froze, and that was the basis of why he was here anyway.
You freeze, halting the glass of wine you were currently pouring, and just stare at him blankly.
“Right, yeah, I should probably explain a little more than that” he laughs nervously while scratching the back of his neck. “Alright, well, I fucked up. I should never have walked out back then, I should have never said you were too much of a distraction to my career to be with and more than anything I should never have lied and said I never loved you.”
“Lan, it’s been two years, why now? Where is this suddenly coming from after two fucking years of no contact whatsoever? And why do you think I want to even hear it? What if I’ve moved on.” It all comes out before you can even stop yourself, the hurt and anger you’ve been keeping in since that day making you see red.
“I never stopped thinking about it, about you. I thought I couldn’t handle being away from you all the time and that you wouldn’t want to wait around for me all the time, but after every race I still just want to come home to you. And I know you haven’t moved on because the love we shared was once in a lifetime, I’m still full of the love you want, please just let me prove it to you. You can tell me you don’t still love me and I’ll leave you alone for good, and maybe you believe that in the end you will be better off that way, but I’m begging you to give me one more chance and I’ll be full of the love you want, no matter what, forevermore.”
By the time he’s done speaking, you both have tears in your eyes.
It was never truly over, you knew you could never stop loving him, no matter how much it hurt you.
Before you can stop yourself, you’re rounding your kitchen bench and closing the space between you both.
Desperate to feel his lips on yours and make up for the two years lost, to show him the love you harbored for him never left.
And boy, did he feel it all.
You needed more of him, you knew it was pathetic of you to fold so quickly but you’d already lost two years and didn’t want to waste any more of it, and when he wore that god damn playboy hoodie you always said you loved seeing him wear, there was no point denying how much you wanted him still.
“I hate that you still have this affect on me, I hate that I never stopped loving you, but most of all, I hate that you’ve still got me in a chokehold”
That confession is all he needed from you before he’s picking you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you down the familiar hallway to your room that he’s traveled so many times before, but with a newly found appreciation for all the pictures along the walls that you could never find it in your heart to switch.
As he throws you down on the bed and climbs over you, eyes blown and full of lust and longing, you can’t help but to admire him.
The gorgeous everchanging eyes, his adorable freckles and moles, and a slight beard he was finally able to grow after years of being teased by the other guys on the grid.
His lips are instantly back on yours, taking all the air out of your lungs and replacing it with his own as if it was the only way you could both live from then on.
You tug at the hem of his hoodie as his hands slide up your thighs to the edge of your skirt, both not ashamed of how fast you need the others clothes off.
Only pulling back for a second to take his hoodie off, his lips are immediately back on you, only finding their way down your throat this time.
Biting just hard enough to make you yelp, he’s instantly soothing the pain as he laps his tongue over the spot, causing you to whimper like the desperate little slut you always were for him.
Hands continuing their mission up your skirt, an almost animalistic growl comes from his throat as his fingers find the lace of your thong, completely drenched for him already.
“Always so ready for me baby, god you couldn’t be more perfect, you were made for me just like I was for you.” His voice filled with lust and love, reminding you that you will always be his.
Flipping you both over and settling you on his lap, he can’t help but want to draw it out a little longer, tease you a little more, make you beg for him.
You grind down on his lap, desperate for even a little relief, because as much as you hate to admit it, no one in the past two years has made you feel even remotely the way he does without even trying.
You’d had your fair share of fixes throughout the two years, using many men to your advantage to try and get over him, but none of them even came close to making you forget. No one did it as good as him.
“Someone is still just as needy and desperate as always huh?” You can feel the smirk even though his lips are against your neck, making you whimper again, just proving his point. “Do you want to show me just how much you missed me too? How good you can be for me?”
“Please Lan, need you, will do anything but I need you”
He laughs, and you know he’s got something sadistic and borderline humiliating in mind, but you don’t care because he knows you’ll do anything for him, you always will.
“Such a good girl, can you straddle my thigh for a second baby?” He says with a smirk you know means trouble.
You do as he says, and shift over to his thigh, giving him a look of confusion as you wait for his next instructions.
“Now baby, I want you to ride it.”
You gasp, this was new for the two of you but you couldn’t deny that it excited you a lot to try.
“I want to see how desperate of a slut you can be for me, I want to watch you get yourself off with nothing but my thigh.” He breathes into your ear as his hand hold your hips, helping you find a stable rhythm.
You can’t stop the sounds coming out of your mouth, and he wouldn’t want you to even if you could.
If Lando could listen to one thing on repeat for the rest of his life, it would be your sweet moans that only he can get out of you time and time again.
As you get louder and start stuttering your rhythm on his thigh, he knows you’re getting close.
“That’s my girl, come on, cum on my thigh and I’ll reward you for behaving so well baby”
That was enough to send you over the edge for what would be the first of many times that evening, screaming his name loud enough that you were sure the whole of Monaco could have heard you.
Still coming down from your high, he doesn’t give you a second to recover before he flips you back down onto the bed as he rids himself of his now ruined pants before pulling your own ruined panties off and climbing straight back over you, claiming your lips once again.
He doesn’t want to wait anymore, watching your angelic face as you came around his thigh was almost enough to make him finish right then and there. He couldn’t lie, he’d obviously been with a few women as well over the last two years while he tried to forget you, but he could never forget you, no one could ever compare to his girl.
Leaning over to your side drawer to find a condom where he knows you both used to keep them, he comes up empty and a little confused.
“I got rid of them, I never brought anyone over anyway.”
And it was true, you always went to your flings places instead, you couldn’t stand the thought of them ruining the memories shared between you and Lando in that apartment, in that bed.
“Do you want me to go grab some, i can run down t-“
“You don’t need it, i trust you.”
He stared at you in shock, he could count on one hand the amount of times you’d allowed him to go in raw before, and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
He didn’t have to think much longer, your hand reaching down to tease his already painfully hard cock was all the confirmation he needed that you were serious about it.
Swiping his tip through your wet folds to help lube him up, he lines his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes in.
Seeing you slightly wince as you readjust to his size, he’s quick to worry.
“If you need me to stop at any point please just tell me” he says in a hurry.
“Just need a sec Lan, i forgot how big you are…” you said with a whimper, not missing the smirk that flashes across his face.
After a few seconds to get comfortable again, you’re urging him to move and he doesn’t hesitate for a second.
Slowly fucking you with more and more of his cock with each thrust until he’s bottoming out, he can’t help but moan at how you feel around him.
“Baby I’m not going to last much longer if you keep squeezing me like that, feel so warm and tight around my cock, this pussy was made for me”
This has you clenching around him again, drawing out the most feral growl you have ever heard from the man.
In an instant, he’s pulling out of you much to your disappointment, only leaving you feeling empty for a moment while he flips you over onto your front and pulls your ass up, digging his fingers into your hips so roughly that you’re sure there are going to be bruises in the morning.
Good thing he knows you love being marked up by him.
As soon as your ass is up, he’s quick to shove his cock back in, not giving you a moment to adjust as he starts mercilessly pounding you from behind.
This new angle somehow hits deeper, feeling him hit your cervix wall over and over again, mixing pain with pleasure and making you scream for him.
“That’s it angel, scream my name, tell everyone who’s making you feel this fucking good”
As he continues his brutal punishment on your pussy, winding a hand around your front to use his always skilful fingers to rub tight circles on your clit and help you chase your high, he feels your walls start to tighten again as your legs start to shake and knows his won’t be far behind.
“Where do you want me to finish princess? I want you to cum on my cock like the good girl you are but i won’t be able to last much longer” he grunts as he continues his rough pace, getting sloppier with each thrust as you tighten more and more with each one.
“Fill me please, need to feel you inside of me, this pussy is yours and only yours” you pant out, only fueling him to get rougher and faster, pushing you over that edge.
“Scream for me baby, i want all of Monaco to know who you belong to” and with that, you’re seeing stars. His name being the only word on your lips over and over again while you clamp around his cock, feeling his release only seconds after your own as he bites your shoulder to muffle his own moans.
You lay there for a while in pure fucked-out bliss, Lando having moved to be beside you and move your head onto his chest while his arm is around you playing with your hair.
“So, what does this mean for us now?” You have to ask, as the doubt starts creeping in again.
“I know i have a lot to make up for but if you’ll have me, i want to be yours again. I want to stay over whenever you’ll have me here, i want to fly you out to races with me when you can, but mostly, i want to show the world how much i love you, show them what I’m doing this all for at the end of the day”
Tears start welling in your eyes, and all you can do is nod before kissing him again, showing him all the emotions you can’t verbally say right now.
Just as the kiss starts heating up for another round between you two, a loud knock on your front door interrupts the moment.
“Cunt” is all Lando can say in frustration, making you laugh before getting up and pulling your panties back on and chucking his playboy hoodie on to cover you so you can answer the door to the intrusion.
As he lays there and waits for you to return, he can’t stop smiling and thinking about all the ways he plans to make everything up to you.
Maybe a ring in the near future, to show how serious he is and always has been about his angel…
Before he can think much longer, your two puppies come bouncing into the room looking for him, having smelt his familiar scent the moment they got home.
He can’t stop the wide smile from forming on his face, this was it.
This was home, and he never planned on leaving again.
As you stepped back into the room, you couldn’t help the smile forming on your own face.
The boy you loved with every fiber of your being, squealing while being attacked with kisses and jumped on by your fur babies. Your joint fur babies. Your little family was whole again.
Walking over to him you stop before him on the bed, him reaching out to pull you down onto his lap as you sigh happily.
You turn to look him in the eye and hold his face gently, you were glad he was back.
“What are you thinking now babe?” He asks, seeing the all too familiar look in your eyes
“I was more than just a body in your passenger seat, and you were more than just somebody i was destined to meet. I see you go half-blind when you’re looking at me. I love you Lan.” Kissing him again, sealing all your feelings and fate, giving yourself over to him for good.
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒏
hello, I want to thank @foxyprincessworld for inspiring me to write this.
connected to fairytale
summary - it has been a while since meeting ari in the woods, and while he goes out to gather food for you two, you manage to get yourself stuck.
warning - smut, inter-species, tiny fairy, stuck, slight fingering, creampie.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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Ari had gone out to gather some berries and vegetables from your little garden outside the cabin, ensuring you’d be stocked up for the rapidly approaching winter. While he was out picking, you were fluttering around the house, ensuring things were clean and neat. Since you met Ari that fateful night, becoming his partner, the cabin also became your home. 
You had been cleaning all day in your human form, making sure you could cut the cleaning time in half with your size before finding a spot that no large thing could reach. You wave your hand, allowing your magic to dance over you and shrink you into your fairy form. You fly over to the area, noticing through the small hole that it has become dirty. You knew Ari didn’t care about these things, but you did. So, you began to clean, softly groaning as you kept missing a few spots, pulling yourself further into the tiny hole, your hips catching onto the sides. You wiggle, huffing when you realise that you are stuck. “Oh no… I do hope Ari gets back soon.” You let out a cute little sneeze as the dust tickles your nose. 
Ari grins at the basket in his hands, loving that it’s filled to the brim and that he can show you what he’s managed to gather. He heads into the cabin, setting down the basket on the table and then looks around confused, wondering where you are as you usually came to greet him. “Fairy? Bear here!” He grunts, scrunching his nose. “Little Fairy?!” Ari begins to walk deeper into the house, becoming worried that something may have happened to you.
“I’m here, Bear. I’m okay. I’m just stuck...” You sigh and allow magic to flow through you, appearing before your man.
Ari stares at the bright ball, following it as it slowly leads him to where you are stuck. The ball disappears when Ari stops where you are, and his eyes widen. “Oh, Fairy! How?” He can’t deny that his cock twitches when his eyes land on your exposed arse, your dress lifted from wiggling. “Stuck?” You still weren’t able to teach him how to speak proper sentences, but you found it endearing with his short answers. Knowing he tries so hard, his face always scrunches up, trying to find the right things to say, and the thing you love most about him is even though it becomes hard for him sometimes, he never gives up. 
“Yeah, Bear. I’m stuck, and my magic cannot get me out of this one.” You pout, not noticing that the more you wiggle, the more that becomes exposed, causing the giant bear behind you to become aroused. “Could you please help me?” 
Ari nods, too preoccupied with how your arse jiggles and your sweet honey pot glistens. He licks his lips at the thought of honey and how delicious you taste. “Help after,” Ari growls out, quickly ridding himself free from his pants and gripping his thick, monstrous cock. He begins to stroke it, grunting as pre-cum leaks from his angry tip.
“What? Ari, what do you mean after? Bear?” He ignores you, too lost in his mind now. You softly squeak as his finger connects with your dripping cunt. You now understand what is happening and allow your magic to wash over you. “You can enter, Bear.” You whimper when he pushes his thick finger inside, stretching you and curling it, ensuring you are wet enough to take him.
“Okay?”
“Okay.” Your head falls forward as he pulls his finger out and replaces it with his member. His tip stretches you wide as Ari pushes in. “Oh, god…” He rests his hands against the wood, fucking into you harder and faster, enjoying how your tight walls squeeze him. 
“Not god.” Ari growls, fucking into you harder. “I Bear!” Your tiny body rocks back and forth, and your eyes roll back as the pleasure intensifies. Your walls pulsate like crazy around Ari, causing a groan to slip out. “My Fairy!” Your arousal builds, leaking alongside his thick base, coating him and creating a white creamy ring. “So pretty and tiny.” He hums, staring down at your stretched-out cunt with a dazed look, entranced by how hot it looks. 
Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm. “B–bear! I’m going to–” You cut yourself off with a strangled moan. Your vision becomes white as your walls squeeze around him, and your juices squirt out of you. You fall limp, exhaustion hitting you. Ari continues to thrust into you, throwing his head back as his balls tighten, cock twitching. He releases thick amounts of cum into you, coating your walls. 
Once Ari empties himself, his cock softens, and he slowly pulls out of you. “Bear, help now.” He grumbles, wiping off the sweat on his forehead before punching the wood, snapping it enough to rip it away and pull you out of the tiny hole. He lies you on the palm of his hand, looking down at you with a soft look, “Fairy, okay?” 
You snuggle into his palm, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. “I’m okay, Bear. Thank you.” You give him a soft tap and sigh as he moves you to the chair. Your hand waves, and you feel your body slowly grow, allowing you to become human-sized. You stretch, kissing Ari’s palm as he rests it on your cheek. “How did your picking go, Bear?” 
The smile on his face makes you think he’d be able to brighten up a room with how bright and gorgeous it is. Ari quickly moves over to the basket and brings it back to you, showing you the many things he picked. You smile, eyes dancing around the many different colours. “You did wonderful, Bear! I could maybe make some soup for dinner and a pie for dessert.” You slowly stand, legs feeling like jelly. 
Ari places the basket back down and pulls you into him by the hips. He looks down at you with such love and adoration, like he cannot believe he has you in his life. “Bear love Fairy… S–so much.” He wraps an arm around your waist while his hand cups your cheek, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “Pretty Fairy.”
You smile, eyes becoming clouded with love. “I love you too, Bear, so much. My big handsome bear.” Your hand rests flat on his chest, and the other cups his cheek, stroking the soft beard underneath before moving up to scratch between his cute bear ears. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve been working so hard lately.” Your lashes flutter as you continue to stare up at him. “I’ll prepare dinner, okay?” 
Ari shakes his head, huffing. He peppers kisses against your face, smiling at how beautiful you look. “I help.” 
That night you and Ari make dinner, and as that is cooking, he helps you prepare dessert. You couldn’t have wished for anything better. He’d wrap you in his arms as you made the food before pulling you over to the couch, holding you against him while you both waited for dinner. Your hand rested against your stomach, knowing that when you finally told the news to Ari, he would be so happy. You’d finally have everything you had ever wished for. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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littlejuicebox · 7 months
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The Little Things
Summary: Sometime in Act 1, Astarion is beginning to realize he may like you more than he thought.
Tags/Warnings: pure fluff, feelings realization, sexual innuendo, in game spoilers
*
Astarion’s nice, simple plan is falling apart at the seams. He isn’t quite sure when it began or how you slowly wormed your way into his heart like the parasite wormed its way into his brain.
He thinks it must have started shortly after the night you two spent together in the clearing. Perhaps the day you drew his scars for him in the dirt?
You notice the little things about him, and it flusters him entirely. No one else has ever bothered to pay attention long enough to catch all the subtleties you seem to see without missing a beat.
*
You notice he makes tea but never drinks it. It tastes like dirty water on his vampiric tongue, but he loves the smell and the warmth. One day you bring him a cup of tea and urge him to try it.
“This one will be different, I promise.” You say, and you smile at him so sweetly it’s impossible to refuse.
He quirks a brow but obliges. One small sip reveals that this tea is palatable… in fact, it’s actually enjoyable.
“What’s in this? Better not be a sore attempt at poisoning me.” He murmurs with a playful smirk before taking another long sip of the warm liquid.
You grin and show him your finger, where the smallest pinprick can be seen.
Blood. Of course.
His face feels hot, like patches of warmth are spreading across his cheeks. It must be the tea.
“Clever pup,” He chuckles, “I— thank you.”
*
One day you’re simply walking by him in camp, returning from a quick foraging trip in the woods. He’s perched upon a stool, reading a book, and drinking the remnants of his morning tea you’d brought to him just over an hour ago.
It’s a lovely little treat every morning. He’s secretly delighted every time you bring it by.
You pause and smile, “Enjoying your book?”
He hums a soft yes and dog ears the page before clasping it shut to acknowledge you.
“Quite, darling. And you? Enjoying your… digging in the mud?” He asks, cocking his head just slightly as he examines the small basket of potatoes you’d procured from the earth.
“It’s not so bad,” You laugh, and then your eyes flicker to his book, “Oh, I almost forgot.”
You rustle through your bag and withdraw a thin strip of burgundy fabric, offering it to him.
Astarion takes the gift. It’s a bookmark. There’s a delicate letter A stitched in gold thread at the top of the small trinket. He’d spent a few hours last week showing you how to sew and embroider little details.
“I noticed you always fold the corners of the pages, and Gale is always grumbling about it when you return his books, so…” You shrug and smile again, “Plus, it’s a small thank you. For the sewing lessons.”
His face feels hot again. It must be the tea. Again.
“Ah, yes. I shall be sure to use it now, then. Don’t want to risk angering the wizard and getting us all blown up!” He jokes as he places the bookmark atop his book, mostly as an excuse to break away from your gaze, which is causing him to feel flustered. He doesn’t know why.
You laugh softly and step closer to him, “It’s not as good as your work.”
You absentmindedly take his hand and turn it, revealing the inner sleeve of his shirt. Your fingers trace along the cuff, admiring a piece of his own embroidery he’d done a few days ago.
“I saw you stitched these little flowers on your shirt the other day. Can you show me how to do that?” You ask, bringing your eyes back up to meet his.
He swallows. Your hand is still resting upon his wrist.
“O-of course, darling. Anytime.” He responds, still thrown. How had you noticed that? His skin tingles from where your fingers had grazed against him.
But it isn’t a bad sensation. He quite liked it, actually.
You grin and then hoist your basket back up before bidding goodbye and walking over to show Gale your harvest. Astarion is left befuddled and simply staring as you walk away.
*
That same night you’re by the campfire, and Astarion is showing you how to stitch small flowers on a scrap of cloth. You’re leaning over his shoulder, watching his work intently. The proximity is making his fingers fumble more than they usually would, but you don’t seem to notice.
“You filed your nails today,” You remark, absently, as you watch his skilled fingers work their creative magic.
He blinks and pauses mid-stitch.
His nails? You noticed the length of his nails?
“I wasn’t aware they were so obscenely long that it would be so obvious.” He responds, his nose wrinkling just slightly. Perhaps his standards of cleanliness and appearance had fallen in the wilds.
“Oh, it’s not that,” You reply, your tone almost dreamy as you continue to observe the rogue, “I just look at your hands a lot.”
Astarion’s finger slips and he pierces himself with the needle. He winces slightly as he withdraws the sliver from his hand.
“I— what?” He asks, pausing his work to assess you with wide, blinking eyes.
You hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud. You’d been entranced and disarmed by the steady rhythm of his hands and the smell of Astarion’s freshly washed skin.
He’d started a new bar of soap today. You could tell because he smelled different when he returned from the river. You’d complimented the new fragrance and he’d stared at you for a moment too long, eyebrows furrowed. You worried you’d somehow offended him. And then he laughed and made some innuendo-filled joke about cleanliness being next to godliness.
He’s waiting for you to respond, the metal sliver of a needle held at rest between his thumb and forefinger.
“I…” You start, and you feel a blush creep across your face, “You have pretty hands.”
You finish the statement lamely and with a small shrug.
One, two, three beats of silence.
Astarion’s scarlet eyes are staring into your own; he’s thinking… deeply.
Before you process what’s happening, the rogue has already abandoned his project in the dirt and brought both his hands to cup your face, plunging forward to press a kiss against your lips. His tongue slides into your mouth, urgently dancing against your own.
You two hadn’t been physical since the night of the Tiefling party. He hadn’t propositioned you again, and you were far too nervous to attempt propositioning him. You are entirely caught off guard by his advances but eagerly receive his affections anyway.
When Astarion finally breaks away from you, his face is hot. He knows it isn’t the tea this time.
He wants to show you what else he can do with his pretty hands.
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mountttmase · 6 months
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Always Meant To Be
Note - everyone’s favourite baby is back ☺️ little Thea is my princess and I’m so glad you all love her so much so I could write more of here. I feel like we actually get to know her in this one so enjoy and I’d love to know what you think 🩷
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 12.9k
Warnings - fluff and smut
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Mason was nowhere to be found.
You knew he should be back from training by now as his car was parked up on the drive but you couldn’t find a trace of him anywhere. No bag thrown by the door next to his dirty boots, no training kit thrown in the washing basket and not even the sound of his laughter ringing from his gaming room.
After a long day at nursery, Thea was out for the count. Snoozing away peacefully on the sofa with her favourite soft pink rabbit and once you knew she was fully out you went searching for Mason. He had to be here somewhere you just didn’t know where.
If you were being honest with yourself, you felt a bit weird sneaking around the house like this. You’d only officially moved in with him three weeks ago so whilst this was technically your house now you still felt like you were snooping somehow.
It was only when you got to the second floor that you finally heard his hushed voice. Following it to one of the guest rooms to find him sat on the end of the bed facing away from you as he spoke to someone on the phone.
‘Please mate, it’s just one night. I promise I’ll make it up to you’ he told whoever it was quietly. ‘Thea hasn’t seen her uncle Lew in a month now and she misses you. You don’t want her to forget what you look like do you?’
He was laying it on thick, really wanting Lewis to come and have Thea for the night for some unknown reason and even though you felt bad for listening in you wanted to know what was going on.
‘Okay fine, I’m desperate. They’ve been here three weeks and I’ve barely had a second alone with her. I love Thea with all my heart, you know I do, but it’s been the three of us every night and every morning. One night that’s all I’m asking for’
So that’s what he was asking for? Lewis to take Thea for the night so the pair of you could have some alone time? If you weren’t so desperate for some alone time with him yourself you may have laughed out loud but you managed to hold it in.
The fact of the matter was, he was right. Thea had been so excited about the three of you finally being one big family that she insisted on sleeping with the pair of you in the beginning. You let it slide for for the first two nights as her room was still being redecorated and you loved being all together but now Thea expected it and refused to go to sleep in her own room.
But the fact Mason had gone as far as calling his brother so the pair of you could have some alone time wasn’t something you thought you’d accidentally walk into and the realisation made you giggle. The sound travelling throughout the quiet corridor making Mason whip his head around in confusion before he realised you’d heard.
‘Fuck, Lew just text me yeah? I’ve gotta go’ he told him. Trying to suppress a laugh himself as he beckoned you over and you let him pull you into his lap as he quickly said goodbye and threw his phone down on the bed. ‘Where’s Thea?’
‘Asleep on the sofa’ you confirmed, letting him grip your hips as you straddled his thighs. ‘I was gonna ask what are you doing in here but I think I’ve figured it out’
‘Well sorry for wanting to take my girl out on a date’
‘Just a date, yeah?’
‘Well maybe some other stuff when we get home’ he winked, causing you to giggle as you hid your face in his neck. ‘You know what it’s like at the start of a relationship, I just wanna be on you all the time and it’s difficult’
‘I know’ you sighed. In all honesty you’d been having the same feelings as him but you’d felt a little selfish for it what with Thea being so excited to have you all living together again and she was being as clingy as ever. If it took Lewis coming to steal her for the night for you to get some proper alone time then you were willing to give it a try.
-
Dating Mason was a dream, but that didn’t mean it didn’t come with its challenges. After your trip to Portsmouth for Mason's birthday, he was eager to take you out on a first date. You’d discussed many different options from having the date at home to bringing Thea with you but in the end Mason had asked Luke and his family to watch her for the evening. Not having anyone else close by that he trusted enough to look after his baby and Thea loved Luke’s kids so she was happy to go for a few hours.
Your first date was perfect, he took you to one of his favourite spots for dinner, his eyes practically hanging out of his head when he got a good look at you and after a night of constant flirting and laughing he walked you home and kissed you on your front doorstep. It felt like a fairy tale but dating your baby’s dad did come with its own set of challenges.
Thea was the most confused out of anyone. Not sure why she was being taken to Luke’s house so the pair of you could hang out without her but she was overcome with joy at the way she got to see Mason more than she ever had. Your sweet angel lighting up whenever he was around but you knew the goodbyes were getting tougher as their bond was growing deeper than ever.
You remembered the first time Mason had stayed round later than he ever had. Thea had been in bed for an hour or so but the pair of you were on your sofa having a cuddle when she suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Thea has always been an incredibly emotional and sensitive girl so when she rounded the corner with her eyes full of tears at the thought of being left out, Mason being Mason simply scooped her up and placed her in the middle of the pair of you. Cuddling like a family for the first time since the night at his parents house after Thea’s bad dream. Their matching smiles melted your heart and when Thea was half asleep draped over the pair of your laps, you couldn’t help but lean over and kiss him softly. Letting him know this was all you had ever wanted.
You wanted to ask him then to stay for the night but the pair of you hadn’t reached that point in your relationship just yet and you didn’t want him getting any ideas.
Sex was something you didn’t think you were quite ready for just now and you knew Mason didn’t mind but you knew it was on the horizon. You couldn’t deny there was a level of need for him in that way and once you’d put Thea to bed you shared a dizzying kiss on your front door that nearly had you dragging him back inside and upstairs.
‘Before I go, I was just wondering if you were free next week? Thought you could come over and I’ll cook and maybe you could stay over if you want to?’ He asked, eyes full of nerves as he wasn’t sure if you were ready to stay the night and just as he thought, there was only one question falling from your lips.
‘What about Thea?’
‘Lew’s gonna be here next week. Thought maybe he could baby sit for the night and we can spend some proper time together’ he explained but the panic on your face must have been visible. ‘If you’re not ready we can wait’
‘No I… I want to, let’s do it’ you agreed. Watching his face light up as soon as you’d said yes before he landed another heavy kiss on your lips.
‘I’ll text you yeah?’
‘Okay’ you told him bashfully. Both quickly saying goodnight before he ran to his car and drove away. Leaving you stood on the doorstep wondering what you’d let yourself in for.
When the time eventually arrived, Lewis stayed at your house with Thea as you stayed with Mason and it felt so strange at first to be alone with him like this in this way. Even though when Thea had first been born you’d stayed with Mason, the pair of you were rarely alone since then and you felt like a part of you was missing when Thea wasn’t around.
But you pushed that to the back of your mind tonight. Helping Mason cook as he tried and failed to keep his hands and lips off of you and when the dishwasher had been loaded up he suggested getting ready for bed early so you could cuddle up and watch a movie. You knew exactly what that meant but you followed him in and got settled under the covers in your least mummy looking pair of pjs you could find. Mason didn’t seem to care what you were wearing though. Slotting himself in behind you as he pressed play and almost instantly he began to let his hands wander.
You were willing yourself to relax, to melt into him and let him shower you with affection but you knew you were as stiff as a board no matter how hard he tried. Mason eventually moving away from you slightly and pulling you on your side so you could lay on your back next to him whilst he cupped your jaw and stared into your eyes.
‘Am I being too much?’ He whispered, your tummy sinking automatically at his tone and you wanted to reassure him straight away that he would never be too much.
‘No, that’s not it I’m just… nervous I guess’
‘Me inviting you round… that’s not what tonight was about’ he told you. Not saying the words exactly but you knew he was talking about being physical with each other. ‘I mean don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t say no’ he teased. Tickling your sides playfully as you melted into him finally and you hated the way he could read you so well. ‘But I just want some time with you, proper time without our little love bug in the way’ he winked.
‘I know, and I promise I won’t keep you waiting too long I just-‘
You couldn’t finish your sentence as he cut you off with a heavy kiss that made your insides flutter, but it was the loving look on his face when you pulled back that let you really know everything was okay.
‘It’s okay, I’ve been waiting years for you. I can wait a little longer’
‘I just haven’t been touched properly like this in a while’ you told him and you should have known what was coming next.
‘When was the last time?’ He asked, a slight tinge of jealousy behind his eyes but little did he know he had nothing to worry about.
You were too embarrassed to admit that the last time you’d been with someone physically was when the pair of you conceived Thea but you knew you’d have to be honest with him at some point. Choosing to skirt around the subject until you were ready to tell him in full and wondering if you could try and wind him up a bit.
‘I mean, I’m no saint exactly. I had a dating app and stuff’ you told him, laughing at the way his jaw slightly dropped and a look of jealousy flashed in his eyes even stronger than before.
‘What? You went on dates? When? And with who?’ He asked, his fingers pinching your sides playfully as he attempted to make out like he wasn’t bothered but just curious however you could read him straight away. Clearly the thought of you being with another man was a bit much for him but you were ready to let him know there was no reason to panic.
‘Well when I say people it’s more like person’ you admitted shyly, ‘and it was only ever when you had Thea for the night’
‘You had a boyfriend?’ He asked curiously, picking up on the way you specified it was only ever one man but you were afraid it had been nowhere near a boyfriend situation.
‘No, not a boyfriend’
‘But you said person?’ He mumbled. His brows drawn together in confusion and you wanted nothing more than to kiss them out away from his lips but your internal embarrassment was stopping you.
‘You really want me to say it huh?’ You laughed, your face flushing out of embarrassment. ‘By person I literally meant one person. I went out with one guy, on one date’
‘What the whole time we’ve had Thea you’ve only been on one date’
‘Correct’
‘What about… you know?’
‘Sex?’
‘Yeah’
‘Nope’ you laughed, watching his eyebrows raise in shock before dropping back to normal.
‘Why not though?’
‘Thea was too little and I never really had time to pursue anything’ you shrugged and you watched a look of guilt wash over his face.
‘I’m so sorry’ he breathed, cupping your jaw gently but your look of confusion prompted him to carry on. ‘I’ve never really thought about it I guess but I bet there’s loads of stuff you’ve had to give up so I could have things my way’
‘It’s fine Mason-‘
‘No it’s not’ he breathed. Kissing your forehead softly. ‘When you’re ready, I’m gonna look after you properly, okay?.
‘Mason’ you giggled, hiding in his neck as he kissed your cheek gently.
‘No I promise you, I’ll make it special. Make up for everything you’ve missed out on’
‘It’s just sex mason’
‘Not with me it won’t be’ he whispered, dropping one last kiss on your lips before laying you on side again and getting settled behind you. ‘We’ve missed the best part now, I’ll have to rewind it’
-
‘So when is Lewis coming?’
‘He’s got some time early next week. He was meant to be here for a meeting anyway but he’s gonna stay an extra few days so we can have a break one night’
‘I bet Lewis thinks we’re great parents’ you laughed. ‘Passing our daughter to him all the time so we can be alone’
‘Hey don’t say that’ he teased. ‘You know how much I love her but if I don’t love you soon I’ll explode’
‘We should really be stricter with her about bedtimes’ you sighed, thinking back over the last few weeks. ‘We've kind of done this to ourselves’ you laughed.
‘I know, I make sure she’s got the best bedroom out of all of us and she wants to spend every night in our bed. Just typical’ he scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. ‘I shouldn't moan really. Before all of this started, whenever Thea was with you and I’d have to walk past her room I could never look in properly. Like it hurt knowing she’s not here all the time and this wasn’t her proper room, it was just her room at her dads house. It's so empty when she wasn’t here’
‘Now you’ve got the two of us’ you smiled, happy that you could finally make Mason's house feel like a home.
‘Hell yeah I do’ he laughed, grabbing you and pulling you further into his lap. ‘Best thing I ever did was asking you guys to move in’
-
Even though you and Mason were having sleepovers, Thea and Mason still spent nights at his whilst you stayed at yours but as the weeks went on and the drop offs became longer you found yourself not wanting to leave them. You wanted to be involved and wake up next to Mason but you also knew they needed their time together.
It had been a big step for Thea too. Not fully understanding what was going on and why all of a sudden you were staying with daddy all the time without her but when you explained soon you’d be staying together it meant you all got to hang out all the time she was jumping for joy.
You were a little unsure the first night you stayed at Masons with Thea. Getting ready for bed after your shower in the bathroom but he was nowhere to be seen when you finally emerged.
You felt a bit strange wandering off to try and find him but you heard his and Thea’s voices a little way down the hall in the main bathroom when you poked your head out of the bedroom and you followed it there. Stopping just outside so you could peer in and the sight in front of you made you melt.
They both stood with their backs to you, Thea in front of Mason on a stool so she could see herself in the mirror as Mason gently brushed her hair through and you smiled as you noticed the scrunchie on his wrist. You stayed put, hiding out of sight so you could watch them in the mirror and not intrude on their special moment and you wondered if this was a nightly routine for them when it was just the two of them.
‘So I’ll come and get you in the morning yeah? And we can make mummy a special breakfast for her first sleepover with us’ he told her and her excited little face nodded furiously.
‘Cake cakes!’ She giggled, clapping her hands together, knowing she meant pancakes she just hadn’t quite figured that word out yet.
‘Yes baby, mummy’s favourite right?’
‘Yes daddy’ she told him, feeling your eyes prick at the cute scene in front of you. They really were your whole world and getting to watch them like this felt so special.
‘Right, what style are we going for tonight missy? Pigtails? Bun? Mohawk?’ He teased, tickling her sides as they both giggled loudly which only increased on Thea’s end as Mason began to kiss her cheek repeatedly.
‘Bun’ she managed to tell him when he’d finally stopped attacking her but the roll of Mason's eyes let you know he wasn’t happy with her choice.
‘Booooring’ he moaned, brushing it back into a ponytail, watching as she looked at him with a scowl that mirrored his own and you laughed at how scarily similar they looked. Your laugh was clearly a little too loud for Thea’s ears though as her eyes found yours in the mirror and the joy that took over her face made your heart thump.
‘Mummy!’ She shouted, waving her hands at you but it was Mason's face you were looking for next. watching his cheeks redden as you made eye contact but he was motioning for you to come in and join them.
‘What’s going on in here guys?’ You smiled, standing next to Mason as he finished off her hair and you knew he was shy about what was happening as he refused to meet your eyes.
‘Just making sure this one’s all ready for bed like usual’ Mason told you, securing her hair in a bun and you were more than impressed with his hard work as it was probably neater than you could do yourself.
‘Mummy’s hair now’ Thea told Mason assertively, pulling you to her side and grabbing more hair bands and even though the pair of you were laughing you felt a tingle run down your spine and over your skin as he gently began to brush your hair back.
‘What do we think, sweet pea? You want it to match yours?’
‘Yes please’ she told him excitedly and you couldn’t stop the giggles as Mason expertly got to work. His tongue poking out as he concentrated and all you wanted to do was kiss him but instead you reached for Thea. Not content with her standing on a high stall alone and potentially falling off so you picked her up and held her to your body. Your heart thumping as she held you by your cheeks and kissed your face repeatedly just as Mason had done to her just before.
The next time you looked up was when you felt Mason's hands sneaking around your waist so he could pull your body towards his. Looking up to see he’d tied your hair up in a bun that was just as perfect as Thea’s.
‘Wow, you’re pretty good at that’
‘I’ve had a lot of practice,’ he smiled. Kissing your temple gently before reaching over to give Thea’s head a kiss too. ‘Come on then, bedtime for you two’ he laughed. Leading you both out and into Thea’s room where you both popped her in bed and kissed her cheeks whilst she tried not to yawn. Mason only getting as far as half way down the second page of her favourite book before she was fast asleep.
‘Would you like me to read you a bedtime story, my love?’ Mason laughed as he walked you into his bedroom. His cheeky smile letting you know he was joking but you wanted to test him so when you nodded his face dropped slightly.
‘I’ve got my book in my bag, you could read me a few pages if you like’
‘It’s not 50 shades of grey is it?’
‘Oh no, it’s much sexier than that’ you laughed, watching his cheeks redden but your favourite cheeky smirk of his returned instantly.
‘Well how about instead of me reading it to you, you show me what happens? I’ve always been more of a visual learner’ he teased, hands dipping under the hem of your shirt so he could touch your waist and you shivered at the feeling knowing he was about to take care of you just how you liked.
The next morning Mason went missing for a few moments, coming back with Thea in his arms whilst telling you she felt left out but she was barely awake and you knew it was Mason missing their usual morning cuddles. Thea really was Mason's best friend and the pair of them stuck to their promise of getting up and making you breakfast for your first sleepover. Your heart fluttering at the way you found them munching away in the kitchen as they spoke about what they were getting up to that day until they saw you hanging in the doorway and invited you in.
This routine went on for a while. You and Thea spending at least one night a week together at Masons until one night turned into two and sometimes three and you knew Thea had no idea what was going on, she was just happy to be together with the pair of you.
It was just after dinner a few weeks later and you were loading the dishwasher when Thea came to find you. Tonight would be the third night in a row you’d be staying at Masons and you smiled as she trudged her way over to you. Dragging her pink bunny that Mason had gotten her when she was born by the ear but you could tell she looked a little troubled.
This wasn’t a new thing, Thea always seemed to get a little quieter in the evenings where you were at Masons but as soon as you changed her into her pjs she perked up a little bit. You’d been meaning to have a chat with her but you hadn’t got round to it as things had been so busy lately but you stopped what you were doing as she approached you.
‘Thea? You okay sweetie?’ You asked. Kneeling down to her level so you could talk to her properly.
‘We go home soon?’ She asked quietly, pulling her bunny up to her chest to hug it tightly.
‘Tomorrow, baby’ you told her softly. Watching her smile before her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit but she just nodded. Waddling back out and in the direction of the living room to go and play with her toys.
You couldn’t tell what was going through her little head, was she missing your house? did she want to go home? Or was she happy you were still staying here with Mason? You just didn’t know.
What you did know was that Mason hated loading the dishwasher and you knew he was hiding out so he didn’t have to do it. Mason said he was only popping to the loo so when he still wasn’t back as you finished wiping the surfaces you went in search of him, finding him in the back room with his head propped up on his fists and his bottom lip jutting out and the sight made your heart sunk into your tummy.
‘Mase? You alright’ you asked, the sound of your voice making him jump slightly but you could see the sadness in his eyes from a mile away. ‘What’s going on’
‘Nothing’ he told you, shaking his head as you made your way over to him but you knew there was definitely something up and you wanted to get to the bottom of it.
‘Well there is, Mase. You can tell me’ you told him softly. Letting him pull you into his lap so he could hold you and you felt him relax instantly. Holding you as close as he could whilst breathing in your scent before looking up at you shyly.
‘I heard you and Thea talking in the kitchen. Her asking when you’re going home and… I don’t know’
‘Oh Mase’ you pouted, holding him close and you stroked his hair lightly.
‘I just… I love you guys and I want us all here together permanently soon but it doesn’t look hopeful if she’s asking when she can leave’
‘Well first of all, we love you just as much. I’m sure there’s an explanation’ you laughed ‘Maybe we should talk to her about everything. She’s only just turned three so she probably doesn’t really understand everything yet’ you told him and you felt him relax under you slightly. ‘You know she loves being here’
‘I know’ he nodded. ‘Maybe it’s best, let’s see what she thinks’
‘Was that your sly way of asking me to move in?’ You teased and even though he still looked unsure his smile made you feel a lot brighter.
‘Yeah, I suppose it was’ he laughed. ‘You know if Thea is okay with it, can we make this our house rather than just mine but you sleep over a lot?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I just want us all together. You know like that family we were always meant to be. You guys sleep here most of the time anyway it’s not like much would change. You’d just have more of your stuff here’
‘And no place to escape from you’
‘Meanie’ he pouted but he knew it was all in jest.
‘I guess it makes sense. We can stop paying for a house no one’s ever in and you’d get to see Thea a lot more’
‘See, it’s a win for everyone’ he beamed. Taking your outstretched hand as you stood up and he nervously followed you into the living room where Thea was playing with her dolls house.
‘Thea baby, will you come over here for me?’ You asked, watching her put her toys down and come over. Reaching up so Mason would sit her in his lap and the smile he gave her because she’d picked him made you melt.
‘Me and daddy have been thinking it’s a good idea for us to all stay together from now on. What do you think?’ You asked her but she looked a little confused so you explained a little further. ‘So we won’t have my house and daddy’s house anymore, we’d have the same one and we can all go to sleep together and and wake up together and see each other every day not just sometimes, yeah? How does that sound?’
‘My toys’ she pouted, her eyes filling with tears immediately and you knew you’d have to break it down for her a little more. In her mind your houses were two separate things and if you were leaving that house then you were leaving everything that came with it there too.
‘We’ll bring all your toys here bubs. And your bed and all your other things that you want. We’ll just stay here now’
‘Where will daddy go?’ She questioned, small tears running down her cheeks that Mason wiped away quickly and you knew he was getting just as upset as she was watching his baby cry.
‘He’ll stay here too, munchkin’
‘All the time?’
‘Yes baby, I’ll be here all the time’ Mason chimed in. ‘I can read you a story every night now, not just a few times a week. And we can have our special breakfast in the mornings just the two of us still. That stuff doesn’t have to change you’ll just have one room not two’
‘No more bye bye’
‘No more bye bye, baby’ he told her. His eyes filling up as he realised that was what the issue was. The longer Thea spent with Mason the harder the goodbyes were becoming as she only grew more attached to him but he was quick to reassure her that was now a thing of the past. ‘The only time we have to do bye bye is when I have to go to a game. But I’ll always come back okay?’
‘Okay’ she told him. Dropping her lip as she reached for him so he could pull her into a cuddle and you melted at the way Mason held his arm out for you so you could join in.
‘We’ll go and grab all our stuff soon and bring it here, yeah?’ You told her. Both your faces close to each other on Mason's chest. ‘We can get you more sheets too so they match your room here’
‘Mummy, I like pink’’
‘I know baby but your room here is purple’
‘But pink’
‘I can make it pink for you sweet pea’ Mason chimed in. Clearly wanting to do anything for Thea to make her more comfortable in his house. ‘Nanny and grandad are here this weekend and I’m sure grandad will help me paint it when I’m back from my game’
‘Mase you’ll be exhausted’ you reasoned with him but he was incessant on giving Thea exactly what she wanted so she’d be happy.
‘I don’t care. It won’t take long if we all chip in’ he told you, kissing your forehead gently and it’s like you fell for him all over again seeing how he’d do just about anything for the pair of you.
‘Love you’ you whispered, eyes boring into his and he was quick to close the small gap and leave a quick kiss on your lips.
‘Love you’ he whispered back. The brightest smile on his face and it warmed you to know you were the cause of it.
Mason stuck to his word, coming home from his game on Saturday and getting straight to painting with his dad. You and Debbie offered to help to get it done quicker but Mason assured you they could do it so the pair of you got stuck into building some of the new furniture for her room instead. With all her stuff being here now she needed a bigger set of drawers and a new wardrobe and whilst the latter was being delivered the next day, the drawers were currently in pieces in the spare bedroom across the hall.
‘I’m just gonna see if the boys want a cuppa whilst you read over that’ you told Debbie. Knowing she wanted to read the instructions twice so she knew what was happening but you didn’t head into Thea’s room straight away. You could tell there was an important conversation happening that you didn’t want to disturb and just like usual your curiosity got the better of you and you stood outside trying to listen in.
‘Thanks for helping me with this dad’ you heard Mason say. ‘I really do appreciate it, I bet it’s the last thing you wanna be doing at this time’
‘You know I’d do anything for Thea’ you heard Tony reply and it warmed you to know she had such a supportive network around her. ‘I’m really happy for you, you know that right? I know this is what you’ve always wanted and yes you went about it a different way to most but I’m so proud of you and y/n for figuring it all out. Thea is such a special girl and it’s all down to you two’
‘Stop it, I’ll cry’ Mason joked, but you could tell he was a little emotional. Your own eyes stinging at Tony’s praise for all of you but you held your emotions in so you didn’t get caught. ‘Things have got a way of figuring themselves out and all I’ve ever wanted was this. I can’t tell you how lucky I feel to have them’
‘You don’t have to tell me, I can see it all over your face’ Tony joked and you used this as an in to check on them to ask if they wanted a drink. Mason popping a kiss on your cheek as he tried to not get paint over you but you were surprised to see how far they’d gotten already.
By the time they’d given it a second coat and you and Debbie had figured out the instructions to Thea’s new furniture it was nearly time for bed. Debbie and Tony taking themselves off to bed as they were so tired so the three of you got ready yourselves but the thought of Thea sleeping in a room of wet paint made you frown.
‘You’ll have to sleep with us tonight baby, your room won’t be finished until tomorrow okay?’ You told her but she nodded excitedly. The three of you having so much fun before going to sleep that Thea refused to sleep in there even after the paint had dried and the smell had disappeared. You tried everything you could think of to get her back in there but she would only seem to sleep in your bed for now and you were tired of trying but at the end of week two you let it slide for a while until the pair of you realised you really needed her back in her own room.
-
‘You still think it’s the best idea when she can’t sleep without us now?’ You laughed. Gripping his shoulders tightly as you felt his hands move to your bum.
‘Well I’m hoping Lew can convince her to sleep in her own bed when we’re not here’ Mason winked. ‘We’ve not been apart since you’ve moved in, maybe a a night way will do her good? Like Lew can make sure she sleeps in her own bed and then when we come back we’re more strict with her about it’
‘That could work’
‘We can’t have her in our room forever I’ll go insane’
‘How about we tell her we’ll come get her in the morning for cuddles?’ You suggested and you watched his face soften at your words.
‘You're such a good mum’ he whispered. ‘There’s me practically chucking her out on the street just so I can have you. Just shows you what this body does to me’
‘Oh hush up you melon’ you laughed, feeling him grip your bum again as he kissed your neck and you tried not to gasp at the contact.
‘Your melon’ he whispered, attacking your neck with more kisses and no matter how much you tried to wriggle away he just held you tighter. ‘Got me right under your sexy spell’
‘And to think I was too scared of what you’d think of me in the beginning’ you laughed, trying your fingers over his scalp and the low moan that left his lips excited you.
-
When Mason told you he was willing to wait until you were ready to be intimate, you didn’t realise how serious he was. And as each time you saw him went by your need for him grew until the third sleepover you were having at his where every touch of his set your skin alight. You’d been craving alone time with him for days and you’d told yourself this time you’d make sure the pair of you got what you wanted.
The night went the same as the others. Mason making the pair of you dinner before you got into bed and he was up to his usual tricks. Tracing your skin lightly with his fingertips over your ribs and even though you knew he ever meant anything by it as he always just liked to touch, but it turned you on more than anything else.
You knew Mason was waiting until you were ready however you had a fear of Initiating anything. You knew it was all on you though so you let him push it this time and melted into his hold as he grew braver with his hands. Your breathing was heavy and he was holding onto you for dear life so when you felt him prod you in the back you couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan.
You were more turned on than you could ever remember being, feeling safe and content in Mason's arms as he loved on you but as soon as his fingers tried to travel up to your chest you felt yourself go stiff.
‘What’s wrong sweetheart?’ He breathed, pulling back and laying you down so he could caress your cheek softly. ‘I told you, If you’re not ready I can wait’
‘No it’s not that’ you reassured him. Knowing you had to be honest with him even though you were absolutely terrified and knew you’d sound insane to him. ‘I don’t… I don’t look the same as I did back then, you know? I’ve got a mum tum and stretch marks and-‘
‘Stop talking’ he interrupted, kissing you heavily before pulling back to look you in the eyes. His face serious, causing you to gulp heavily before he started to speak. ‘All that stuff that you think you have, doesn’t matter to me. I’ve loved you this whole time, do you really think I care if you’ve got a tummy now?’
‘I don’t know’ you shrugged, feeling a little silly now he was spelling it out to you like this.
‘You carried my baby, do you not know how sexy that is? Do you not realise how horrically turned on I am just by the fact I was the last person to have you and now I get to have you again? You're so bloody beautiful and all I've wanted to do is worship you, you know? Kiss every single inch of you so no I don’t give a fuck if you look different cause you’re still my girl’ he reassured you, the words making your eyes sting but his cheeky smile let you know he wasn’t done making you feel better. ‘I’ve changed too you know’
‘Yeah, I've seen. You’ve gone from a teenage boy to a Greek god’ you laughed. Watching his face turn bright red but you knew he was trying to laugh it off as that’s not exactly what he was talking about. ‘I’m kidding. New tattoos too huh?
‘Yeah my collections grown a bit since you last saw it’
‘Can I see?’ You whispered and you melted at the way his face softened.
‘Of course you can’ he smiled, helping you up so you could get settled in front of him with your back to his chest before pulling his sleeve up to reveal his new collection. You’d seen pictures and a few flashes when he wore short sleeves but getting an up close and personal tour like this was overwhelming. Even more so when he removed his top to show you the dates just under his pec and his champions league trophy. ‘Oh and there’s one on the back of my neck too’
You were quick to get up and crawl around to see it and even though you had no idea what it meant you thought it looked sexy as hell.
‘What does it mean?’
‘Expect the unexpected’ he laughed and you couldn’t stop the smile stretching across your lips.
‘Fitting’ you giggled, gently reaching out so you could trail your fingers over it delicately. Watching his hair stand on end before you placed your lips to his neck and you felt him tense as a shuddery breath left his lips.
Mason was the king of physical contact and you weren’t sure if it was because he couldn’t see you but you knew you needed to hear that sound again so you pushed all thoughts out of your head as you carried on kissing him there. Feeling him melt into you as his breathing began to change and you knew you were turning him on you just hadn’t realised how much.
Within a flash he’d pulled you back round and into his lap. Hitting you with a bruising kiss whilst holding your face and you moaned into each other's mouths until you’d had to pull apart to catch your breath.
‘You know, you’re not the only one who’s got new tattoos’ you smiled bashfully. Watching his eyebrows raise but his eyes darken and you knew he wanted to see it right away so you carefully peeled yourself away from and laid down slightly on your side. Thankfully he followed suit and laid next to you and you watched as his eyes followed your fingers as you pulled the hem of your shirt up to reveal the left side of your ribs.
You heard a small gasp as soon as he’d seen it. His fingers reaching out to touch the small drawing that sat on your side just next to your boob and you knew you were covered in goosebumps from his simple touches. Feeling him trace the lines before his gentle voice broke the silence.
‘What is it?’
‘Sweet peas, Thea’s birth flower’ you told him. ‘It’s meant to look like a mother and a daughter, she’s the little one’
‘It’s so beautiful’ he told you. His voice sounding more emotional than it had a moment ago but you were too shy to look at him. ‘I wanted to get something for Thea but this blows all my ideas out the water’
‘Why don’t you get the same then?’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, why not? It can be for the both of us’ you winked, watching his face soften as his eyes went back to looking at your side.
‘For my girls’ he whispered and the lump in your throat kept you from speaking. ‘So Thea’s a sweetpea, yeah?’
‘She is, and you’re a snowdrop’ you told him, watching him laugh but before you knew what was happening you felt his lips pressing featherlight kisses to the spot where your tattoo was. Your skin being covered in goosebumps almost immediately and even though his lips felt like heaven you felt yourself squirming around a bit, causing Mason to pull away from you.
You felt silly but it wasn’t just the fact your body had changed since he’d last seen it but also the fact the last time he saw you naked was the last time anyone saw you naked. What if you’d forgotten what to do? What if you were rubbish? ‘Im sorry Mase, I’m just nervous. it’s been a while’
‘I know, and I promised I’d take care of you, didn't I?’ He reassured you, moving you onto your side so he could look at you properly and the sincerity in his eyes melted you.
‘Yeah’
‘You know, I still remember how you like it’ he whispered, lips on your neck as he squeezed your waist and you could feel your insides quivering as he turned you on even further. His hands reaching round to grip your bum and you gasped before his lips landed on yours again, stealing the breath from your lungs.
When he laid you down on your back, you felt the panic rising inside you even further but you let him take off your shirt. Flopping back onto his bed to try and relax yourself but it was no use as you still weren’t feeling confident no matter how he was looking at you. Eventually covering your body with your arms as you avoided his eyes but you could tell he was starting to get unsure so he laid down in between your legs. Resting his head on your hip so he could press a few kisses there but you were as stiff as a board
‘Hey, it’s alright’ he whispered, reaching to the side to grab your shirt again before sitting you up and helping you put it back on but his lips were on yours before you could say anything back. ‘We don’t have do anything’
‘No I want to’ you pouted, crawling over and into his lap and your heart thudded at the adoring way he was looking at you. ‘I’m just a bit overwhelmed, you know? I wanna do all that stuff with you I just…’
‘You wanna keep your top on?’ He laughed, tickling your sides as he kissed your cheek and you nestled yourself into his neck.
‘For now yes’
‘What else can I do? To make you more comfortable’ he asked your eyes filling with tears at how thoughtful he was being. ‘We could dim the lights a bit lower, make it all romantic’ he teased with a smile. ‘Or just turn them out all together’ he offered, but you liked the sound of the first option.
‘Can we dim them?’ you whispered. Letting him jump up and dim the lights until they were barely on but you felt yourself relax instantly. Watching him come back to you slowly so he didn’t hurt himself before laying himself down next to you so you could face each other.
Clearly you were still too far away for Mason so he shuffled impossibly closer, his hands resting on your waist and you reached up to cup his jaw and pull him into a kiss immediately whilst tangling your legs together.
His hands began to wonder up and down your body until they dipped under your shirt. This time you let him carry on and the feel of his hands on your skin was like no other so when he finally got a hold of your bum you moaned into mouth which gave him a chance to trap your bottom lip between his teeth.
The next thing you knew he was pulling your thigh up and hooking it around his body, squeezing your flesh before his fingers danced across your core over your underwear and the sensation made you gasp into his mouth.
‘This okay baby?’
’Yeah, keep going’ you told him. Grinding your hips down so you could ride his thigh but he knew exactly what you wanted. Moving your underwear to the side so he could slip his fingers between your folds and the moan the left your lips was no match for the growl that left his.
‘You’re fucking soaked’ he breathed. Lips attaching to your jaw as he circled your clit and you could have almost cum on the spot from a mix of his touches and dirty words. Overwhelmed by everything about him but mostly the way he really had remembered how you liked it. Soft and slow to get you going but ready to give you his all when you were ready. ‘You want my mouth baby?’
‘Uh huh’ you told him, letting him push you onto your back so he could slowly move down your body.
It was crazy how much turning the light down gave you a heap loads more confidence but the ability to feel him better helped too. You could still make out his eyes and the shape of him but being able to let go of everything like you were doing felt amazing. Only matched by the first flick of his tongue that practically turned you to liquid.
You’d forgotten how good he was with his mouth. That was the one thing that stood out to you when you’d had sex the first time and you let him have his way with you as that familiar feeling travelled down your spine and into the pit of your tummy.
He didn't give you a second to recover when you reached your high and you couldn’t exactly blame him. Still just as needy for him and when you felt his tip at your entrance you turned to jelly.
He was easing you in slowly. Making sure you both got into a comfortable rhythm but you knew he was holding back as the moans poured from his lips so you moved your hips in tandem with his in hopes he’d speed up and thankfully he did. Giving you his all until he suddenly came to a halt but he kept himself inside of you.
‘Why’d you stop?’ You breathed, trying your hardest to make out the look on his face but it was a bit too dark to see.
‘Cause if I didn’t then it would have been over for me’ he chucked. Your face heating up as you caught onto what he was on about before he nestled his head into your neck. ‘You’re worried that I won’t be attracted to you anymore but I literally can’t control myself. This is what you do to me’
‘Don’t blame me’ you giggled but Mason was in the mood to tease you even more.
‘Oh but I will’ he uttered, lips dancing across your neck. ‘I’ve been waiting so long to have you it's like I can’t wait to get to the good part’ he laughed and even though you were still a little terrified you desperately wanted to see his smile. Thankfully you could just about reach the lamp on his bedside table and with one touch of its base the room was suddenly bathed in soft light.
It took you both a few beats to adjust to the light but as soon as you had you watched his eyes flash down to where the pair of you met before looking back up to your face.
‘You sure?’
‘Yeah, feels even weirder not being able to see you’ you laughed. Sitting up ever so slightly so you could attempt to pull your shirt from your body and thankfully Mason helped. His dark eyes all over you as you laid yourself back down but you were reaching up to pull him down for a kiss soon after.
‘You’re insane’ he whispered against your lips. Letting his own travel down your body so he could kiss over your chest whilst his hips began to move again and you knew you’d be done for soon.
Getting to watch him as he made love to you was something you didn’t realise you needed until right now. Watching his muscles dance under his skin as he moved turned you on more than you thought it would but Mason couldn’t take his eyes or lips off of you until the pair of you were over the finish line and he collapsed on top of you gently.
He was paying attention to every single part of yourself you’ve always tried to ignore. Kissing over the slightly faded purple lines on the sides of your tummy and chest and paying attention to all your lumps and bumps. Whilst only a few moments ago the thought of Mason seeing you fully naked terrified you, you took comfort in his touches and let him explore you as he’d wanted to for months.
‘You know your body is perfect, don’t you?’ He told you quietly but in the silent room his words hit you hard. ‘Like I think I’m even more attracted to you now. You’re so soft and smooth and like you grew a whole ass human in here’ he laughed. Hand resting in your tummy. This time you didn’t want to push him off though. ‘Not just any human either, our human who’s just my favourite person and I’m so bloody grateful for you like I can’t even explain it but you’re perfect and I’m gonna tell you everyday. Even when you finally believe me I’ll still tell you cause I never want you to forget’
‘Oh, Mase’ you breathed, your bottom lip wobbling as his words sunk into your skin but he was quick to kiss your tears away and hold you close to his body. Letting you know you were safe and feeling more content than you ever had.
-
‘Mummy!’ You suddenly heard being shouted from down the hall. Thea’s bounding steps following her shouts and you quickly jumped away from Mason just in time for her to find the pair of you.
‘Hey sweet pea, did you have a good nap?’ Mason asked, picking her up and sitting her on his knee and she cuddled herself into him straight away whilst nodding. ‘That's good. Listen, Uncle Lew is coming to visit next week and he wants to know if he can come for a sleepover just the two of you. You’d like that, right?’
‘Yes please’ she nodded enthusiastically, clapping her tiny hands together in delight and the quick wink Mason sent your way gave you butterflies.
Mason promised he’d figure it all out and book everything he needed to for the pair of you and as it grew closer to the day he was getting more handsy by the hour. The pair of you still couldn’t do anything about it though, Thea kicking up a right fuss unless she was in between the pair of you and you felt like you were about to burst but you pushed through knowing you and Mason just had to be a little more patient.
When the day finally arrived, you spent your morning getting yourself ready whilst Mason was at training and as soon as you’d picked Thea up from nursery you got set to making her and Lewis their favourite snacks for them to eat that evening whilst you were away.
‘Where are my two favourite ladies’ you suddenly heard Mason call through the house. His voice getting louder as he walked towards the kitchen and you turned the hob down so you could give him your full attention.
It only took a few seconds for him to appear. Rounding into the kitchen with a huge smile on his face but it was the big bunch of pretty pale pink carnations that your eyes went to next.
‘Well, here's one of them’ he smiled, placing the flowers on the side so he could pull you into his body and leave a heavy kiss on your lips. ‘You alright?’
‘I’m fine’ you chuckled, letting him pull away so he could grab the bouquet and hand it to you. Your cheeks heating up instantly and you could tell he was laughing at you a little bit. ‘What are these for’
‘No reason, just saw them and realised I haven’t bought you any in a long time. I know these ones are your favourite’ he winked and you felt yourself blush deeper.
‘Thank you, Mase. They’re beautiful’
‘Not as beautiful as you’ he whispered. Capturing your lips again in a heavy kiss but you couldn’t deepen it too much as the sound of Thea running into the kitchen made you pull apart.
‘There’s my other favourite girl’ Mason cheered. Bending down to her level so he could pull her into a hug and soon enough he was lifting her and settling her on his hip before reaching back over to where he’d placed your flowers originally.
You didn’t see them at first, too caught up in Mason to notice whatever else was going on but when he reached for a smaller bunch of the same flowers he’d gotten you, you felt your eyes well up.
‘Here you go, baby. Couldn’t leave you out huh? Got you some to match mummy’s’ he told her. Handing her the small but perfect bunch and you could have melted on the spot. Thea’s eyes going wide as she took them from him before she got shy and hid her face in his neck but you could see her smile from a mile away.
‘I’ll find you a nice vase Thea, we can put them next to mine if you like’
‘Yes please mummy. Thank you daddy’ she giggled. Holding onto them tightly as Mason walked her over to the sink and helped her arrange them in the little vase you’d found before carrying them into the sitting room to live next to yours. Thea following behind with her bright smile ever present at the fact she had her own flowers from her favourite man.
Lewis turned up shortly after and she was quick to show him her flowers that she was very proud of. Letting the pair of you quickly put a bag together and once you’d let him know their dinner was ready in the fridge you were ready to head off.
You tried to ignore Lewis’s silly smile as he waved you off with Thea at the doorstep but you knew you were blushing which Mason only made worse as he attacked your face with kisses before backing out and onto the street.
‘So where are you taking me then, Mount?’
‘Got us our own place for the night. Thought we could make dinner together and chill for a bit like we used to’ he told you. Popping his hand on your thigh so he could give it a gentle squeeze and the coy smirk he sent your way made your insides flutter.
The apartment he booked was at the top of a high rise with far reaching views over Manchester and as soon as you were in and settled he was pulling you out onto the balcony. A bottle of something sparkling in an ice bucket and you watched him carefully pour you a glass before handing it over.
‘Wow Mase, you’ve gone all out huh?’
‘Only the best for you’ he winked. Raising his own glass so you could toast before taking a sip. ‘C’mere’ he whispered. Pulling you into his body gently so you could hold each other whilst looking out at the view.
The discussion turned to how the pair of you couldn’t believe you were finally on your own again for the night and how you hoped Lewis could convince Thea to sleep in her own room but standing in Masons arms as you looked at the sun setting made you feel at peace and you were glad you got to spend this time together.
‘With how quick we managed to make Thea I’m surprised there's not another one on the way’ Mason joked suddenly, fingers tickling your sides and you had to hide your head in his neck before your mouth seemingly ran away with you.
‘Is that what you want?’ You asked, noticing him squeezing you a little bit tighter before he tilted your chin up so your eyes met.
‘Another bestie? Of course. I definitely think it’s on the cards for us in the future. You’re like the best mum in the world, of course I’d wanna have more kids with you’
‘Well if I’m the best mum then you’re definitely the best dad’ you told him. Trying to deflect away from his sweet words but he just scoffed at you to try and deflect himself.
‘Not sure I believe that’
‘Why not?’ you pouted, not liking the way he didn’t believe he was good enough.
‘I just wish I was around more, you know? Yeah it’s great getting to do the fun stuff but nothing makes me happier than the normal stuff. Like coming home to you two and seeing how happy Thea is to see me. Bed times and bath times every day like that’s the stuff I wanna do’
‘Mase, you know Thea thinks the sun shines out your arse right?’ You laughed, causing him to giggle as he kissed your forehead gently. ‘I know that’s the stuff you wanna do and I know it’s not possible to do it every day but Thea knows you give her everything you can and that’s what makes you the best dad’ you told him sincerely, noticing how emotional he’d gotten about it and you knew you wanted to make him realise he had nothing to worry about. ‘You know when I knew you were gonna be the best dad ever?’
‘When?’ he laughed, fingers smoothing the back of your hair and you felt yourself melt at the gesture
‘When Thea had just been born and we were staying with you. Remember that night I just lost it? Like I completely broke down and thought I couldn’t do it?’
‘I remember’ he sighed. ‘Broke my heart seeing you like that I just wanted to make it all better for you’
‘Well you basically did, you were the only reason I was able to keep going’
-
You knew being a new mum would be exhausting but it was really starting to get to you now.
You were just under two months into being a new parent and whilst overall Thea was a good baby she was starting to struggle to sleep at night and in turn you had started to lose your head.
You had been staying with Mason so you could share the responsibilities and help each other out but it was a critical part of the season so you didn’t want to bother him too much so you’d bore the brunt of most of it lately. Thea slept with you in your room so Mason was always well rested for training and games but he’d been away for a few away games meaning you had to look after Thea completely your own for a little bit.
It had all got too much for you one night though. Thea wouldn’t stop crying and at this point neither could you. Holding her to your chest and walking her up and down your room in hopes she would settle but nothing was working and you’d tried everything.
You weren't expecting the door to suddenly fly open and Mason to be looking back at you a few moments later. He was meant to be away until the morning and you only started crying harder at the sight of him as you buried your face into the side of Thea’s so he couldn’t look at you. A feeling of shame suddenly taking over you that he’d seen you like this as you wanted him to believe you could do this.
‘Hey, what’s going on?’ He asked sympathetically but you were in no state to answer him right now. Letting him pull the pair of you into his chest for some comfort and even though you were embarrassed you felt yourself relax knowing you weren’t on your own anymore.
‘She’s won’t settle down, she won’t sleep so neither can I and she won’t stop crying’ you sobbed into his chest and you felt him squeeze you that little bit tighter and place a kiss to your head.
‘Its okay, love. Come on, let's sit down’ he told you, walking you over to the bed and sitting next to you ‘pass her here, yeah?’ He whispered, taking Thea from you and resting her on his chest before tucking you under his other arm. ‘It’s alright, don’t get upset. I’m here to help now. What do you need?’
What did you need? A shower? Food? Five minutes peace and quiet?
‘I don’t know, my heads all over the place’
‘Why don’t you hang out in here for a bit, yeah? I’ll take Thea for a while and you can have a sleep or a bath or whatever you want. Have you eaten?’
‘No, I wanted her to settle down first’
‘Okay well I’ll go make you something-‘
‘You’ve only just got back, Mase’
‘Exactly, I’ve been sitting on my arse for hours’ he joked. ‘Just let me take over for a bit and you can have a rest, okay? No arguments’
You reluctantly agreed. Letting him know you were probably going to take a shower and with a quick kiss to your forehead he was walking out with Thea comfortably in his arms.
‘Hi baby, have you been a good girl for mummy? Yeah? I think you’re lying’ he teased as he rounded out the door and you felt like crying all over again at how good he was with her.
You spent way longer in the shower than you intended to but it was needed and you felt a lot fresher when you got out. Falling asleep for 20 minutes on top of your sheets before you got changed and met Mason downstairs who was sat on the sofa with Thea’s head cradled in his hand. Her body laid across his arms so she was outstretched and they babbled together in the language only they could speak.
‘You need to teach me your ways’ you told him softly, frightening him just a little before he sent you a smile as you took up a seat next to him.
‘Babies are like dogs, they smell fear’ he laughed She knows you’re tense so she’s probably a bit on edge too. Why don’t I take her into my room tonight so you can get some sleep?’
‘I have to feed her at midnight, it’s fine I got it’
‘You sure?’
‘I promise. And I feel a lot better now, thank you’
‘Okay well if you need me at all just come and get me please? You’re not on your own remember’ he told you. Repositioning Thea so she was cradled in his arms before wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his side.
‘I know Mase, thank you’ you told him. Your eyes stinging slightly but you held your tears back as he kissed your forehead and looked back down at Thea still asleep in his arms.
‘It’s okay. You’re not superwoman and no one’s expecting you to be’ he whispered but all you could do was nod. ‘I’ll have her all of tomorrow, yeah? I've missed the little pickle and you need a break so i'll take her out and you can have the day to yourself’
‘What if someone sees you?’
‘I’ll take her to Chilly’s, he’s been moaning at me all weekend that he wants to see her so you can have the house to yourself’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course’ he confirmed and with one final kiss to your head he rested his cheek on the crown of your head. ‘There’s food in the microwave for you’
‘Thanks Mase, for everything’
‘It’s my job as Daddy’ he laughed, squeezing your shoulder gently as you laughed along with him and you knew it that moment you’d always be fine.
Once you’d been fed and it was getting late, Mason walked you to your room and got Thea settled in her cot before saying goodnight. Letting you know he was just across the hall and you could come and get him at any time but you didn’t want to disturb his first night back in his own bed.
Thea woke up 15 minutes before she was due her feed and you used that time to give her a little talking to. Letting her know that you were the mummy and you were in charge but you knew she had no idea what was going on. Babbling and gurgling away like usual and when you finally got her in your arms to feed, she wouldn’t latch on properly and you could feel yourself getting more anxious but the second.
‘Come on Thea, be good for mummy please’ you whispered, trying to relax back into the headboard as much as you could and even though you were trying your hardest not to cry, as soon as she began to sob you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Crying as quietly as you could as you tried to get her to settle again until a few taps at your door snapped your head up.
‘Y/n? Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah’ you croaked, sounding more upset than you intended to and you felt your bottom lip wobble and you tried to hold yourself together.
‘I’m coming in okay’ he told you gently and you only had a second to cover yourself before he was carefully pushing open the door and making his way over to the pair of you. ‘My girls are all upset again huh?’ He smiled as he sat in front of you on your bed and you gave him a half hearted smile as you nodded your head. ‘What’s wrong, love?’
‘She won’t feed, I’ve been trying to get her to latch on and she won’t do it’ you told him quietly. ‘The harder I try the more she won’t do it and-‘
‘It’s okay, it’s okay’ he interrupted. Placing a hand on your arm as you looked up into his kind face. ‘I’ll help, yeah?’
‘I don’t know-‘
‘Y/n, you have to let me help you remember?’
‘I know it’s just..’ you trailed off. Looking down at your chest but Mason seemed to be able to read your mind.
‘If you’re worried about me seeing things, you know I’ve seen it all before right? That’s kinda why we’re sitting here with a crying baby’ he joked and you couldn't help but give him a smile but as you attempted to pass Thea over so Mason could feed her, but he stopped you in your tracks. ‘Keep hold of her, just move forward a bit’
You did as he said, moving away from the headboard but the last thing you were expecting was for Mason to slide in behind you and rest your back up against his chest. One hand settling on your waist whilst the hand that was on the same side as Thea he brushed against her head softly. Clearly Mason really did want to help and not take over and the thought made your heart thump.
‘Just relax okay, you got this’ he told you, lips closer to you ear than you realised before he was slightly leaning his head over your shoulder to talk to Thea who was still crying in your arms. ‘Hey little one. I thought we spoke about this earlier. You’ve got to be good for mummy so she can feed you. You’ll feel a lot better if you just let her and then no ones gotta get upset, huh?’ He spoke to her, massaging her head softly and as the moments went by she started to calm down.
‘Now, we’re gonna all relax and take a deep breath’ he told the pair of you, the smile in his voice evident as Thea looked back up at you both with wide eyes. ‘We're gonna go again, okay? But we’re gonna be calm this time. We’re gonna lean back a bit’ he told you, pulling on your shoulder gently to get you to relax back into him and you followed his lead until you were completely resting against him. ‘And you’re gonna open that mouth nice and wide for me Thea, that’s it, that’s a good girl’ he encouraged, tickling her cheek before you attempted to help her latch on.
It still took a few tries, Thea still having a mini strop each time but with Mason's reassurance in your ear you didn’t want to give up and soon enough Thea was feeding away peacefully in your arms.
‘There we go. I knew you could do it Mumma’ he whispered in your ear before resting his chin on your shoulder so you could look down at Thea together. A wave of emotion hitting you harder than ever before and even though you took a few shakey deep breaths in you felt the tears spill over from your eyes.
You knew Mason knew you were crying when he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder and then to your temple. Wordlessly trying to let you know it was okay and you were doing well but you still felt like a failure. You should be able to feed Thea on your own but lately it felt like you couldn’t do anything without Mason's help and it was starting to really get you down.
When Thea was finished you covered yourself back up before you attempted to wind her and once she was done she was growing sleepier by the second.
‘Can you just take her a sec? I just need to pop to the loo’ you told him. Carefully passing Thea to him so you could run to the bathroom and splash your face with cold water to calm down.
By the time you returned, Mason was laid on his back with Thea asleep on his chest as he stroked her back lightly. Him offering you a soft smile that you returned but you weren’t quite sure what to do next until he opened his free arm out to you and you knew he was asking you to come and lay with him.
You shouldn’t have felt as awkward as you did, before Thea was born the pair of you often found yourselves cuddled up so you could talk about the future but with the way you were feeling about Mason right now and the way you felt about yourself had your head in a spin. The comfort of Mason was the only thing on your mind right now though so you laid next to him. Head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around your waist and when you opened your eyes you saw you were practically face to face with Thea who’s tiny hand was reaching for yours.
You smiled as she gripped your pinkie, her eyes falling heavier until she was sleeping peacefully on Mason's chest and the three of you stayed there quietly for a while.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Masons whispered, wanting you to express how you felt but even just the thought of talking made your tears come back thick and fast.
‘I’m really trying my best but it’s all going wrong. I’m not good enough-‘
‘No no no, I won’t have that’ he told you gently before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. ‘Things will be tough sometimes but you’re never not good enough, okay?’
‘Okay’ you whispered but it wasn’t enough for Mason for you to just agree with him.
‘Tell me, tell me you're good enough’ he laughed whilst squeezing your side and you couldn’t stop the giggles from spilling over.
‘I’m good enough, Mase’
‘I know you are. You’ve been looking after her solo for a few days and you’re probably just exhausted. Everything seems worse when you’re tired but I’m back now and you can have a proper rest okay?’
‘Thank you’
‘It’s alright. We’re a team, remember?’ He told you before looking back to Thea. ‘Gonna whip this one into shape tomorrow’
‘I think she’s just tired like I am. It’s been a rough few days’
Without another word, Mason quickly untangled himself from you so he could place Thea in the cot next to him before turning back to you. Arms wide and he invited you into his body and without a second thought you cuddled yourself into him.
You needed a big fat ugly cry and you knew he knew you needed it too so when he wrapped his arms around you, you let yourself go. Basking in his warmth and comfort as you cried yourself to sleep.
-
‘I remember waking up next to you in the morning and you were so embarrassed’ Mason teased and and you rolled your eyes at him playfully.
‘Well yeah, I spent all night crying into your chest, I thought you’d think I was mental’
‘Of course I did’ he laughed, but before you could say anything back he was back to being sweet. ‘But I loved you then, and I love you now and I told myself I’d always take care of you. If that’s what you needed back then, my shoulder to cry on, that’s what I was going to be’
‘I love you too’ you whispered. Face breaking out into a wide smile as you watched his face soften before dropping a soft but delicious kiss to your lips.
‘I don’t think I can wait till after dinner’ he told you, hands trailing down your back until he got to your bum where he gave it a cheeky pinch. ‘We’ve got all night right? If we start now it’ll give us time to recover before we go again’
‘You’re terrible’
‘And you are too sexy for your own good’ he winked. Kneading your bum gently and you felt your legs go weak.
‘Go in, I’ll come find you in a sec’ you told him and with a final kiss and a gentle tap on your bum he let you go. Leaving you on your own so you could look out over the skyline and thank your lucky stars you ended up where you always wanted to be.
Thank you so much for reading 🩷 I’d really love it if you could leave me some feedback and met me know what you think 🥰
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starry-bi-sky · 8 months
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the idea of the whole school of Casper high judging wes´s flirting skills and then being horrified that they still somehow kinda work is gold!!
also i feel like somewhere in the future someone in the batfam will ask baby dami how he got the "demon" name since hes a clone and hes just going to look the person in the eye and say "my brothers pet stalker gave it to me"
"MY BROTHER'S PET STALKER GAVE IT TO ME" that's now the only way Damian refers to Wes - that and 'Weston'. And just imagine Danny walking into that room in that moment as he says it, and then perking up and going "Oh are we talking about Wes?" and he walks over to ruffle Damian's hair and affectionately goes, "and he's not my pet, Dames." But he doesn't deny the stalker bit.
(And you know if Wes was there he'd be denying it up and down that he's a stalker - he's an investigator. A detective! Quit calling him that!) And the batfam present all exchange slightly concerned looks with one another and someone -- lets go Dick or Tim or Bruce, goes "Stalker?"
Danny just waves it off with a huff and goes "it's not that serious, don't worry i've got it handled" before changing the subject to something else. Or talking a little bit more about wes without bringing up that he thinks he's a vigilante (which he is).
and also yesss imagine the first time dany goes to bother wes during the middle of lunch and danny says something mildly tame compared to what he normlly does because wes is with a bunch of friends -- maybe he decides to do the "hey Weston, I heard you spreading rumors about me being Phantom?" thing, and he's wearing this bewildered smile
all of Wes' friends are giving Wes this LOOK like 'way to go genius, you got his attention, now what?' and instead of Wes stammering or backtracking, instead he doubles down on it. All of his friends are looking at him like Velvet from Trolls 3 when Veneer revealed that they were phonies. Just utter betrayal.
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just. just this face. the entire table is making that face at Wes as he (to them) fumbles the bag so badly that he may as well have tossed it into a gutter. They all watch as Fenton is weirded out by Wes, and the two of them have this back-and-forth with Fenton poking holes at Wes about him being Phantom and Wes just keeps saying he is Phantom, and he should stop denying it.
When Fenton finally leaves, Wes' best friend turns and thwacks him hard in the shoulder and hisses at him what the hell did he just do? He didn't just miss the basket, he missed the entire damn court entirely! he threw the ball into the stands!
And Wes hisses back at him that he has no idea what he's talking about. Wes' friend calls him an idiot. A big dumb idiot. And then Fenton goes and bothers him in the hallway a few days later. And everyone else?? Flabbergasted.
And then it keeps. happening. Fenton keeps?? approaching Wes? And he sometimes he seems vaguely delighted by their conversations, like Wes is saying some of the funniest things in the world? -- and okay, maybe it is funny that he keeps getting accused of being a vigilante, its funny in a weird way. And Wes looks completely annoyed by his existence -- and you know what somehow this tracks because Fenton was dating Valerie for a time and she was completely annoyed by him when they first met. Maybe Fenton has a type???
Either way, nobody knows how to wrap their head around how Wes's cringefail "flirting" techniques are working. By all means, Fenton should be hating this guy because he keeps accusing him of being his parents' worst enemy (self-proclaimed by the Fenton parents), but instead he just appears bewildered but mildly entertained by Wes' antics.
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Text
Heart Shaped Kisses
R. Ripley x fem!reader
cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), clit play, soft sex, scissoring, top!rhea, bottom!reader, wax play, praising, dirty talk
of course i came back on valentines day, what did you expect?
it kinda switched between 1st and 3rd person, oops. not proofread
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The night had been perfect. Rhea took you to your favorite restaurant where she had a private table reserved for the two of you, with your favorite wine waiting for you, and a tall red candle in the middle of the table that lit the area.
As much as it may be a surprise, Rhea was a hopeless romantic, and she loved valentines day. Any day that gave her an excuse to spoil you, was perfect for her. Your gift was given to her earlier in the morning. You made her breakfast and you had curated an adorable little basket filled with her favorite treats, red and black roses, a stuffed bear with your anniversary date on its paw, and of course you snuck a lingerie set neatly folded on the bottom. Rhea loved it, and she gave you so many kisses afterwards your lips were almost numb.
Now, she pulled out your chair for you, and pushed it back in before taking her seat across from you. She poured you a glass of wine, and smiled at you from across the table.
You had been dating for 3 years, and it always amazed you how she seemed to come up with a new date idea for valentines day each year. It was adorable and you were so grateful for the thought she put into making your night.
"I love this, Rhea. Thank you so much." You spoke gratefully as you looked around the restaurant.
"Of course, I love doing this for you, love." Rhea smiled and she held your hand over the table. Bringing my hand up to her lips, she gave it a soft kiss.
I felt my cheeks heat up and I covered my face with my other hand with a big smile.
"Let me see you, beautiful." Rhea said. I blushed harder and shook my head no, laughing softly.
I uncovered my face a few minutes after, pushing pieces that fell in my face behind my ear.
"There's my beautiful girl." Rhea whispered with a soft smile on her face as she looked at me. I didn't cover my face this time, I just looked the other way as I sipped my wine.
"You're adorable." I said as I looked back her, returning the smile. Rhea playfully rolled her eyes, but I saw her blush as she looked the other way, which made me giggle.
The waiter came around to take your orders, and once he was done Rhea looked back at you.
"You really look beautiful tonight, Y/n." Rhea complimented sweetly.
"Thank you, Rhe. So do you." I complimented back, kissing her hand this time.
Dinner was amazing, she ended up finishing mine for me because I made the mistake of getting something bigger than I usually do but she wasn't complaining. We were in the car now, music playing quietly as her hand gripped my thigh.
We were about a 25 minute drive from the house, so we had a little bit to go. Rhea thumb began rubbing back and forth on the skin of my thigh, and I didn't miss the smirk on her face from the corner of my eye.
Her hand slowly began to inch higher and higher as time went on. I started shuffling in my seat about 5 minutes ago, and it of course didn't go unnoticed.
"What's wrong, baby?" She asked, faux concern in her voice, she knew what was wrong.
"Nothing! I'm just cold, that's all." I lied.
"Hm, okay." Was all she said as she looked back at the road.
Rhea's hand was now under the skirt of my dress, almost touching where I needed her the most, she was so close. She was still for a moment, until her pinky just barely ran over the center of my damp panties.
"Rhea." I sighed, looking over at her.
A smirk was painted on her lips as she looked ahead, pulling into our driveway, thank god.
"I want you in the house, up the stairs, and on the bed for me. Strip to your panties, beautiful." Rhea ordered softly before unlocking the car. I opened the door with a quick 'Yes Mami' before practically running into the house. I got up the stairs, and discarded from my dress and bra, and got on the bed like she requested.
I waited for only a few minutes, before she walked through the door in a pair of heels, fishnets and the lingerie I had put in the bottom of the basket. My jaw dropped as I took her in. How the hell did she get in that so fast?
"What, see somethin' you like?" Rhea teased as she put her hand on her hip. All I could do was nod as I brought my bottom lip between my teeth.
She slowly walked towards me, heels clicking across the floor as she inched closer. As she got next to the nightstand, she lit the skinny pink candle that was sitting there. It softly lit the room, and it smelled like roses.
"So pretty all spread out for me, baby." Rhea whispered as she stood next to me now, her hand reaching to softly pinch at one of my nipples.
I let my head fall back against the pillows with a soft sigh of her name.
"Fuck, Rhea." I whined as she tugged on it, eyebrows furrowing. Rhea let out a deep chuckle as she switched to my other nipple, pinching it roughly this time. My mouth fell open with a gasp as I opened my eyes to look at her. Her eyes were already fixed on me, taking in my features and every expression on my face.
Fuck.
"I bet your pussy is so wet for me already, isn't it baby?" Rhea husked as she gently trailed her hand down my torso, tickling my skin. All I could do was nod in response, which earned a smack against my clothed pussy. "Words, Y/n."
"Yes, Mami." I breathed out, my thighs trying to close against her hand before they were pushed back open. Rhea's middle finger pressed against my clit over my panties, which caused a soft moan to escape my lips as my eyes fluttered closed.
"So easy." She whispered. I went to speak, but when her finger began to rub in circles every thought quickly disappeared from my brain.
My body relaxed, and my legs spread wider.
"There's my girl." Rhea whispered beneath my ear as she left a soft kiss there.
"I can practically feel how drenched you are through your panties, sweet girl. This all for me?" She taunted in a high voice.
"Yes," I moaned.
"Good girl." She smiled.
Rhea's hands grabbed at my waistband as she slowly pulled them down, whispering a quiet 'fuck' as she saw my wetness glisten in the dim light of the candle and the street lights peeking from the window. As she slid my panties off, Rhea placed my legs over her shoulders as she pressed a soft kiss to my ankle, and began to slowly trail kisses up my leg until she was on her stomach between my thighs.
Usually, she'd tease me here, but this time she placed a kiss on my clit, and used her thumbs to spread my folds to get a better look.
"You're so fucking beautiful, baby. So fuckin' wet for me." Rhea said, with a low moan vibrating from the back of her throat as she sucked my clit between her lips.
"Fuck!" I squealed, arching my back off of the bed.
Rhea's tongue gently drew circles on my bud, using her tongue piercing to hit spots that made my brain go fuzzy.
"Mami," I whined as I squeezed my eyes shut. Soft whines and whimpers continued to leave my lips as she played with my clit, going between flicking her tongue against it and sucking on it.
"Such a noisy girl for me, aren't you?" Rhea pulled her head away to tease, her thumb replacing her tongue. She applied just the right amount of pressure as she quickly circled the sensitive nerves.
"I'm gonna cum, Mami." I warned as I felt my stomach tighten. Just then, Rhea slipped her middle and ring fingers inside of me, curling them into my sweet spot as she put her mouth back on my clit.
"Rhea!" I moaned, my head falling back as my thighs tightened around her head. She quickened her fingers, and it was only mere seconds before I felt my orgasm crash over me. Rhea helped me ride it out, switching to soft licks and slow curls of her fingers.
"You did so good for me, beautiful. I'll never get over the way you taste." Rhea said agaisnt my lips once she pulled her fingers out of me, kissing me deeply.
The kiss got heated quickly as her hips started to grind against mine, and when I moaned into her mouth she pulled back.
"I need to feel you against me, baby." I whispered.
Rhea's eyes widened slightly before they grew darker, and she smirked as she started pulling the straps off her shoulders.
"Yeah?" She said breathlessly, as she discarded her clothing. She spread my thighs again, and placed one of her legs over top of mine.
Placing herself against my core, we both let out a moan as she thrusted forward, our clits rubbing together perfectly.
"Oh fuck." She sighed, tossing her head back. She did it again, harder this time.
"You feel so good." I moaned, closing my eyes until I felt something hot against my skin. I gasped as my eyes shot open, and then I moaned louder once I noticed she had dripped some of the wax from the candle just below my breasts. This wasn't new to us, but it always surprised me.
"I could fuck your pretty pussy like this all damn time, you know that?" Rhea husked as she sped up, chasing her own high. I whined her name, hips bucking to meet hers as she continued to drip the pink wax onto my skin. I smiled when I looked down, seeing that she was drawing a heart with the wax.
She put the candle back a few moments later, interlacing her fingers with mine as she stared into my eyes. The combination of the eye contact, and her clit rubbing against mine made my stomach tighten again.
"Mami," I breathed out, eyes struggling to stay open.
"Happy Valentines day, beautiful."
"Wait for me baby, let me cum with you. You can hold it for me, can't you?" She said out of breath. Who could say no to that? I nodded, bucking my hips to meet hers. Rhea moaned, speeding her hips up. "You feel so good against me, angel." She said in a breathy moan.
With one final thrust, Rhea came with a quiet whine. My orgasm came right after hers, and she continued to grind her hips, helping us both ride them out. Once we both finally calmed down, she got off of me and rolled to lay next to me, kissing my cheeks.
736 notes · View notes
43qh · 7 months
Note
hii! i love your writing so far <3 could i request some quinn angst (or jack if you'd prefer to write abt him 🫣) maybe like the reader overhears him saying something hurtful (calling them clingy maybe) and starts to distance themselves from him.. and how they would navigate that
of course! your wish is my command, darling
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quinn hughes x fem!reader
genre: angst
word count: 934
warnings: hurtful words said by quinn
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your heart pounds in your chest. you really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really. it was a harmless act. you were going to bring clothes from the laundry room to his bedroom, prepared to help him put his clothes away. but the second you heard your name slip from quinn’s mouth, you couldn’t help yourself.
you really wish you had just walked away.
“i love her, i really do.” quinn sighs, “sometimes it can be a bit much though, y’know?”
you gulp as you stand outside the door, listening in as your body falls cold.
“i like my space, everyone knows that.” quinn says nonchalantly.
you had heard enough. you dropped the basket of clothes outside his bedroom door before grabbing your keys and walking out his front door.
quinn scrunches his eyebrows, hearing the slight slam of the door. he quickly hangs up the call with his brother and opens his door. his feet fall short from his steps as he notices the laundry basket just sitting there. he curses under his breath, surely you had heard the call. maybe more than he had wanted and less than he anticipated. it makes him run a hand through his hair, immediately calling you.
when his call goes to voicemail, he stares at his screen in ache. he understands. he knows what he said was wrong. he should have addressed to you first how he felt. you shouldn’t have had to hear it over a phone call with his younger brother.
he could only really imagine how puffy your eyes looked right now. how you would silently cry so no one else noticed. how you would wipe your tears as quickly as they came. his heart ached. he never meant to hurt you. honestly, he wasn’t really sure if what he said was true.
he enjoyed your company. he loved it, actually. and quinn was starting to fear the attachment he had grown towards you in just a year. your relationship was still all about navigating right now, and he wasn’t sure how to approach this situation.
his only logical thinking was to give you space. but it hurt his heart as days passed, and you still didn’t reach out. your distance was hard for him. he was missing something he didn’t know he would miss so badly. the way you always lingered around him and checked in on him. the way you made him tea to relax his muscles from a long day of practice. the way you would hug him tightly the second he came home from a tiring game.
he missed it all so much.
how was he going to fix any of this?
quinn didn’t have a logical thought as he rushed towards your apartment. clicking the elevator floor you lived on, approaching your door and knocking just three times.
when your door opened, he was greeted with an exhausted look on your face. your eyes widened, before your gaze turned cold and you turned your chin up at him. you didn’t want to appear weak. you didn’t want to seem like you needed him anymore.
“baby,” he says just above a whisper, and you can hear the strain in his voice.
you look at him, not saying a word as you cross your arms. he could feel how uncomfortable you were. it was tearing him apart.
“i’m so sorry.” he leans forward a bit, still careful not to enter the comforts of your home. he wasn’t sure he was welcomed anymore. “i know what you heard. i know i said shit that made it sound like i was tired of you.” quinn watches as your eyes turn glossy, avoiding his gaze at his words, “but i need you to know, you’re never too much for me. sure, i like my time alone. but that never compares to the time i spend by your side. i’m so fucking scared. genuinely,” he breathes out a sigh, “i’m so scared that i’ll get too close and ruin everything. i may have already done that, but you mean a lot more to me than you know. i said those things out of fear. i wasn’t even sure i meant them when i said them. and, now, i know i didn’t mean it. losing you for even just a few days was a price i had to pay to realize that, and i’m sorry that’s what it took for me to see it.”
his words sink through you and consume you like sponge. you’re soaking every word and digesting them like it was your own personal bible. like he was your religion.
you lick your lips, not saying anything as you hurriedly drag him inside your apartment. he doesn’t protest, loving the feeling of your skin finally on his, even if it was just your hand on his. he missed it, causing sparks to run through his body.
“i forgive you,” you look at him, still holding his hand.
“i’ll never make a mistake like that again.” quinn confesses. and it’s like he’s in a confession stand.
“i know.” and you do. you trust him.
“can i kiss you?” quinn doesn’t stop himself from leaning close to you, “i missed you so, so bad.”
you only nod, and he doesn’t waste time bringing your lips to his. it felt like coming home. it was a lock in time, making your head spin as you realized just how much you missed the way he tasted, the way he felt. it was electric, bringing you back to life all over again.
quinn vowed to never hurt you again.
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abbyromanoff · 9 months
Note
I have a request if you're taking them, I may also request this to a few other blogs, so don't mind that, I absolutely love your work btw!!
I was hoping for Wanda and reader
wanda recently invited her gf R to live with her, but R has a habit she doesn't know about. The previous person R lived with always made R do the laundry, make all the food, do all the cleaning, and do everything, and R doesn't realize how messed up that is, R thinks their ''lower'' than whoever they live with, therefore they should do everything.
wanda is heartbroken to see R waiting on her like that, making her meals and cleaning up after her, and doing it happily too, and is upset that her love thinks so low of themselves.
que Wanda reassuring R they will split the work evenly, and R doesn't need to do everything
thank u in advance!
YOU DESERVE MORE THAN THAT
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PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 1401
WARNINGS: angst, fluff, past abusive relationships, sorry for anyone named Blake you’ll understand eventually, happy ending, that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
Your hands worked tirelessly with the cloth, the dish beginning to shine under the bright light coming from the ceiling. You were exhausted, but that didn’t mean you were allowed to stop just yet, not until all tasks were done for the day. It was only fair, after all, Wanda accepted you into her home when asking you to move in with her, so while she spent hours in the office you would be cleaning and tending to the house.
Your phone's alarm went off and you quickly headed towards the laundry room, grinning as the dryer's loud sounds came to a stop. You opened the door and placed the clothes into a laundry basket, carrying the heavy load into your shared room and placing it on your side of the bed, making a mental note to finish it once the dishes and dinner were done. It was her favorite meal that you made, your famous lasagna that always made her mouth water.
“Y/N? I’m home, baby!” You turned to greet the owner of the voice, smiling as you ran into her muscular arms and felt a kiss on your head.
“Mm, missed you s’ much, love.”
“‘Missed you too, Wands.” She leaned back, chuckling at the small red dot on your nose before wiping it away.
“Must be the pasta sauce.” Her eyes widened at this, a smirk growing on her face as she took a whiff of the air.
“Did you make lasagna?”
“You guessed it.” She rose up and down on her tiptoes, her arms wrapping around you once more as she swayed you back and forth quickly.
“Ugh, you are the best.” You helped her remove her coat but were stopped less than halfway through, causing you to furrow your brows.
“It’s okay, I got it.” She placed it on the coat rack and led you into the kitchen, huffing as she noticed there were still ten minutes left on the oven clock before her meal was ready.
“Ugh, I don’t think I can wait that long, I’m starving!” She exclaimed, and you could hear a small rumble coming from her stomach, proving her point.
“I’m sorry, I was a bit backed up. Uhm, did I not pack enough for your lunch?” She brushed you off, massaging her shoulders and letting her hair fall from the tight ponytail.
“Don’t apologize. And, you did, my coworker just forgot her lunch so I gave her some of mine.” You nodded, returning to the dishes that were left unattended. You continued to place them in the dishwasher, occasionally needing to scrape stains out of pots or pans.
“I can pack more for you next time if you’d like.” She found herself behind you, placing both hands on either side of your waist and humming as she rested her head on your shoulder, leaning in to leave a peck on your neck and sending shivers through your body.
“Don’t worry about it, your lunches are just enough. Besides, she never usually forgets her food, she was just in a hurry this morning, she said.” She took the cup from your hand once rolling up her sleeves, and you couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of her veiny hands and arms.
“I can do this for now, you just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?” You hesitated to agree to her request, only giving in once she lightly took them from you while you were unable to speak your disagreement.
“No, really, it’s okay, you’ve been working hard all day, it’s only fair.” She didn’t listen, instead continuing the job you were supposed to be doing. That was your job, you had to do it.
“Uhm, I’ll go fold the laundry then.”
“Nonsense. C’mon, we both know you need a break. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get dinner ready for you tonight, yeah? We can have a nice bath together later too, if you’d like.” A tear was threatening to escape, and while you were trying your hardest to hold it back, you couldn’t stop it. Wanda turned when she heard sniffling, seeing your gaze fallen to the floor while your hand came to your cheek and she guessed it was to wipe it dry.
“Honey? Hey, what’s wrong?” She dried her hands on the hand towel, her forehead crinkled together as she slowly stalked over to you who stood in the middle of the kitchen.
“Nothing. Nothing's wrong, these are happy tears.” This only caused her concern to grow, and the beeping of the oven became nonexistent in her mind, but not yours. You used it as your excuse to remove yourself from her hold, coughing to cover the waver in your voice as you used oven mittens to remove the large dish. You let it cool, grabbing the counter tightly in your hands before finally giving her the attention she wished for. She looked so defeated, so concerned, you felt horrible.
“Sorry, I- uh, I didn’t mean to worry you.” She stepped forward once again, this time cornering you between the furniture and herself so you wouldn’t escape. She grabbed both of your hands, kissing the backs of your palms before holding them in the air near her stomach and your chest. She used her thumb to run across your knuckles, and the soothing manner nearly caused further tears.
“What’s wrong, Y/N? Did I- did I do something?”
“No, of course not!” You quickly assured, but that heightened her confusion.
“It’s just, I don’t know, I don’t know how to handle this.”
“What do you have to handle? If you mean the cleaning and everything, I’ll- I’ll help, I promise-“
“No, I mean this- you! You’re so fucking good to me and I’m so scared I’m gonna lose that somehow, I don’t know.”
“I don’t understand.” The woman spoke, and you sighed as you recalled the previous endeavors you were forced to experience. She treated you horribly, and you didn’t deserve that, but Wanda didn’t exactly know this. Wanda only knew some of the horrors you chose to share.
“When I was with, uh, Blake, she- she would always be mad if I didn’t finish everything. I would come home from a double shift, and she’d be drunk on the couch, but she yelled at me for dinner, to finish the laundry, clean the dishes, sweep and mop- I had to do everything, Wanda. If I didn’t have the bed made for her I’d be forced to sleep on the couch, and if I didn’t make dinner I wasn’t allowed to eat for the night. She’d yell at me if I didn’t want to have sex, and then I wouldn’t be able to even apologize before I was being blamed and, once again, forced to sleep in the living room. Leaving her was the best choice I ever made, I just never thought I’d have someone so caring as you, I guess she made me believe I didn’t deserve that.” Wanda’s heart felt heavier the more your voice broke, and she never wanted to cry more. She hated hearing others' troubles, but yours felt as though they were hers.
“Baby…I don’t know what to say, I- I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize, and you know you don’t have to do all this, I’ve told you this before.”
“I know, I just fell into such a routine with her, I didn’t know how to stop. And I like doing it for you, you actually appreciate what I do.” You chuckled, but she didn’t return it. She brought you forward and blew out a deep breath, and you instantly returned her hug.
“I love you so much, sweetheart. Please don’t forget that.”
“You’re nothing like her, Wanda, and I really do love you. I’m sorry I freaked out.”
“You didn’t freak out, and I couldn’t blame you for that. You make me so happy, and I’m so grateful for everything you do for me. I want to change that for right now, okay? You’re going to sit down and I’m going to be setting the table tonight. We can have some ice cream on the couch, and I’ll give you a nice massage. Then we can have a bath and I’ll get to hold you all night in my arms, and I’ll never let you go. Does that sound alright?”
“That sounds perfect.”
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wintertime-in-june · 5 months
Text
Kissing Booth
Inspired by a piece of art by izumicrazyworld on Instagram.
It was a Saturday, a sunny, yet breezy Saturday afternoon. The fair had been going on since ten that morning and the crowds of people milling about the marques were unrelenting.
The fair had been set up in an effort to raise money for the public service of defence. It encompassed stalls from the police, selling books and cakes; a tombola from the air force; pin the tail on the whale from the marines and more.
The private military stall ran by KorTac sat at the edge of the room, despite its sub prime location the line was long, wrapping all the way around the hall.
...Well, one side of the booth's line was long.
König stood there, trying his very best to look approachable but failing miserably as the young recruit beside him kissed women after women after the occasional man.
Who's idea was this anyway? A kissing booth for goodness sake! How infantile... he told himself as he fiddled with his fingers...
Yet still... he couldn't help but wonder why no-one wanted to kiss him.
He thought he would be supervising, just sitting back and wasting his day, so you can believe the shock he had when the Lieutenant said his shift was over and the Colonel's was just beginning.
You stood with your friend on the other side of the room, just finishing up a lovely cupcake you had gotten from the Police's stand, strawberry frosted.
You watched, as you often did, the scenes before you, taking in each and every person as they went about their day.
He was easy to miss, despite his towering height, but your eyes locked on him nonetheless. It was as if he was trying to blend into the background, to compensate for his immense size. Dressed in all black, with a mask to obscure his face and trying to make himself look as small as possible... to no avail.
That's when you saw it, a long line leading to his booth, but not to him, no, to the soldier beside him.
The mask didn't help... and the fact that the booth's sign was as tall as him, covering his face... also didn't help. But still, how could no-one want to kiss him!
Your friend looked over, noticing the look in your eyes, like a person who had just found a lost kitten, wondering if they should keep it or not.
"Go on," she said with a smile, giving your shoulder a nudge.
You snapped out of your trance, there was no point denying where you were staring, it was that obvious.
"I can't, I couldn't, really! A kissing booth, I mean... I would never!" You protested, feeling your heart beat quicken.
"He is so your type." She retorts with a sly smirk.
You didn't know whether to be insulted or not... she wasn't exactly wrong.
"Oh, alright then..." You say with a little sigh, you knew you wanted to and it was for charity after all. Smiling a little to your friend, you couldn't help the excitement that bubbled inside you, a kiss was a kiss.
As you walked, a woman on a mission, towards the booth, you tried to regulate your breathing. How were you going to do this? How long do you hold the kiss? How do you even kiss? Over or under the mask?
Before you knew it you were there, standing below this towering figure, looking up and up and up and up until you saw, crystal blue eyes staring back at you, it was for lack of better words, intense.
You gave a small smile putting the money on the worktop in front of you.
"Hi, please... um, please can you." You decide to stop speaking at that point, your sentence being a disaster from start to finish.
He slid the coins from the surface into the basket below, looking down at you.
He bent down slightly, then realised it would not be enough, he bent his knees, going lower and lower until, he was just above eye level.
He may have looked stoic and unfeeling on the outside, an overall fear inducing demeanour, meanwhile his heart was going a mile a minute.
You're gorgeous, so beautiful, a girl like you doesn't have to pay for kisses! Was all that ran through his mind as he got on your level. Let alone from a beast like him.
Your perfume was sweet, fruity, perfect. Your face was so, so close.
You blinked, tilting your head slightly, was he going to lift his mask up or...
You decided to show some initiative, you had paid for a kiss, you were getting a kiss. You lifted your hands up slowly, gently holding his mask and lifting it up yourself.
You only had a second to look before the natural motion of things took hold. There was a scar, a cut upwards on the left side of his upper lip. He was clean shaven... that was nice.
You smiled lightly as you leaned forward and your lips met his. Surprisingly plush, slightly chapped.
It wasn't a quick kiss but it didn't go too far.
It was sweet. It was lovely. It was undeniably, the best kiss you had ever had.
It only had wholesome intent behind it, just perfection.
The two of you parted slowly, the person beside König having gone through three other people in the time it took the two of you to have one kiss.
Your strawberry frosting breath fanning his face as you parted slowly. His eyes filled with longing.
He remained on your level, not standing up even as you let go of his mask.
He was completely awestruck.
He will never forget this.
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yoongiseesawmp3 · 8 months
Text
ceilings - san
summary: pe teacher!san x single mom!reader. your kid is finally ready to go to school, and you're spiraling. thankfully, you find friendship with your kid's teacher and she becomes determined to become your best friend. simultaneously, she tries to set you up with the cute pe teacher, but you know him from somewhere deep within your past. can the truth come out without jeopardizing your future?
word count: 12.4k
warnings: afab reader so gendered terms, mentions of accidental pregnancy
masterlist / part two
"violet, come on, we're gonna be late!" you shout to your daughter. it's her first day of kindergarten, her first day of real school, and you're so close to tears. you want to cry because your baby is growing up, because you won't get to cart your little mini me around with you everywhere now, because you're so stressed about getting her to school on time. it's been a rough morning, and your daughter taking her sweet time is not helping.
"i'm almost ready!" she shouts back from the bathroom, and you suppress a groan. what does a five year old have to primp for?
"one more minute and i'm dragging you to the car!" you threaten lightheartedly, knowing she'll only take it to mean she has a minute before you go and help her.
"i'm done," she says proudly as she appears in the doorway to the kitchen. hands on her hips she asks, "how do i look?"
"ridiculous," you laugh. "is that my shirt?"
"and my belt!" she defends herself. "i thought it was cute."
"it is cute, baby, but maybe you should wear something more comfortable for the first day?" you offer. you shuffle over to the laundry basket you left on the stairs and dig around for an outfit, handing your stubborn daughter some jeans and a sweater. "just wear something comfy today, and later this week you can dress silly."
"i wasn't dressed silly, i was dressed like you," violet mumbles, and you roll your eyes. your daughter definitely got your sass, and your stubbornness, but the resemblance kind of stops there. she's a spitting image of her father, a constant reminder of the mistake you made when you were younger. but it wasn't really a mistake, was it? if it brought you the one thing that's made you happier than anything before, it wasn't a mistake at all. violet was the best thing that ever happened to you, and again, the waterworks threaten to fall as you think about dropping her off for her first day of school. a day, you realize, you're late for.
"c'mon sugar, we gotta go!" you shout, grabbing her hello kitty backpack. "i've got your stuff, meet me in the car!"
-
you work close enough to violet's school that you can be one of those annoying carpool parents swarming the school grounds every day. while violet may hate it, you're so excited for all the memories that will come from these trips to and from school each day. like today, you'll always remember how violet started crying a few minutes down the road, claiming she didn't want to go to school because she didn't want to eat school lunch.
"it's not that bad, vi." you tell her as you peek at her through the rearview. "i remember loving some days of school lunch so much i would always go, even if i was sick."
"but you only liked some days," she sniffed. "what if i don't like any of the days?"
"then i'll pack you a lunch," you assure her. "just try it this week, every day, because some days will be better than others. then if you don't like any of it i'll start making your lunch. how does that sound?"
"okay," she nods, her sad little sniffles clearing up. "thank you mommy."
"we're almost there," you say quietly, more to yourself than to your daughter. "are you excited, sugar?"
"kinda," she admits. "i'm excited to see miss jen!"
"she's gonna be a great teacher," you agree. "you're gonna learn so much, and you're gonna have so much fun with her and all the friends you're gonna make. right?"
violet nods again, and you're satisfied for now. you're sure your baby is alright to go off to school for the first time, at least for the time being. surely there will be another thing to freak about later in the day, but for now you need to worry about navigating this carpool line. a man in workout clothes with a haggard looking traffic vest is directing traffic, and while you pass him, you feel your heart skip a beat.
it can't be him, right? there's no way he works here. it can't be. you keep driving, following the cones until you pull up to the sidewalk and a very kind looking teacher approaches your car with a soft smile.
"good morning!" he chirps. "i'm mr. kang, the librarian," he says as he stoops to peer through your window. his gaze goes to the backseat, asking violet, "are you ready for the best day ever?"
she nods shyly, and you watch as she undoes her car seat and slides out of the car with her too big book bag engulfing her frame as she walks away. you shout her name and she turns, a nervous look on her face.
"have a great day, my love!" you blow her a kiss for good measure, and you carry the way she smiles proudly with you for the rest of the day. the man in the traffic vest is all but forgotten, but he watches from afar in confusion. was he seeing things, or were you really here dropping off a kid? a kid, in fact, who looked exactly like he did at that age. weird, he thinks, but he shakes it off and continues directing traffic, wondering how he could find a way to introduce himself over the next few days.
-
when you were younger, your parents always supported you academically, but they were never involved with the school itself. pta meetings were not their thing, and it was a struggle getting them to take off work for a parent/teacher conference. you had decided early on that you would be one of those involved parents, one that knew your kid's teacher well and participated in room mom activities. you were texting violet's teacher last night, actually, asking if there was anything you could bring to help celebrate the first week, and she was eager to have the help.
she'd asked you to bring lollipops, so on thursday afternoon you're searching for a parking spot before school lets out. you were going to drop the goodies off at violet's classroom and help jen with the goody bags during dismissal, quick and easy. except, an intimidating figure walking toward your car may not make this process as easy as you'd have hoped.
san saw your car pull up and immediately stepped out into the parking lot. as the unofficial carpool guardian, one of his daily jobs is stopping parents who try to cheat the system by taking up faculty spots so they can be first in line. san didn't know it was you or he would've approached with a different demeanor, but today was rough. he had at least two criers per class and one kid who ran so hard after lunch he puked outside san's office. he wasn't in the mood to deal with a privileged parent, so he lets out a deep sigh as he approaches your now open window.
"ma'am you can't park here-" he starts, but as soon as his eyes meet yours he chokes on his words. "y/n?"
"hi san," you smile shyly, heartbeat racing. "so i can't park here? there weren't any guest spots out front, and i need to take something to vi's class-"
"vi?" san questions, and you let out a deep sigh of your own.
"violet," you tell him. "my..my daughter."
"i thought that was you the other day," san admits, and you nod in confirmation. "well, um, if you're just coming to drop something off, you're all good, you can leave your car-"
"oh really? i can move, it's no problem-"
"no, no, don't worry about it-"
"are you sure?" you ask, finally stopping the awkward back and forth. "you won't tattle?"
"pinky promise," san laughs, holding your door for your as you get out. "but i'd sneak out before carpool starts up if i were you, it'll be hard to pull out once the lot fills up."
"got it," you nod graciously, slipping your hand into the backseat to grab the bag of candy. san is still standing there, so you clear your throat and try to leave. "well, thanks for letting me-"
"no worries-"
"it was good seeing you-"
"yeah, yeah..." san trails off. once you're a few feet away he calls your name. you turn to see what he needs, and he thinks about it before shrugging. "never mind," he says. "it was nice to see you."
"bye san," you manage to get out before you turn the corner, hands sweaty and heart doing funny flips in your chest.
you hadn't told violet about your visit, so when jen lets you into the room you hear an excited squeal followed by a pair of small arms wrapped around your legs. violet looks up at you proudly, a spot of something on her cheek. you forget sometimes, just how much she looks like san, but your exchange outside has him fresh on the brain. she has his smile. you shake the thoughts from your head and try to take a step, but violet won't budge.
"hey sugar," you laugh, ruffling her hair with your free hand. "go back to your seat, school's not over yet."
"but-"
"violet, do you want to show your mom where to put the bags she brought?" jen offers, and you send her a thankful look. violet tugs on your hand, bringing you over to the "treasure box" which is really just a filing cabinet jen must have filled with candy and toys. violet shows you each drawer, and you make her look away as you place the candy in it's appropriate drawer so it won't ruin the surprise for now. satisfied with her work, violet goes back to her seat as the bell rings for dismissal. you organize some of the other things you brought on jen's desk as she goes over reminders for the class, and then the first few rounds of students start leaving.
"thanks for bringing all this," jen says as she joins you.
"do you need help putting them together?" you ask, and she thinks for a moment.
"no, i don't want to keep you," she starts.
"well, i think i'm stuck for a while anyway," you inform her. "i had to park in a faculty spot, and carpool-"
"oh yeah, you're definitely stuck," jen laughs. "let me get everything set up, and then you can start while i help the rest of the kids leave, if you don't mind?"
"not at all!" you assure her, looking out to find violet watching you both like a hawk. "do you think we'll need another set of hands though?" jen follows your gaze and laughs before waving violet over. the three of you get everything set up, and you ask violet about her day as jen organizes the next group of kids for bus call.
"it was good!" violet says happily. "i liked lunch today."
"what did they have?"
"chicken sammiches," she says, and you laugh.
"sandwiches, baby," you tell her. "sammiches is a me and you word, but some people may not know what that means."
"i like chicken sandwiches and chicken sammiches," she nods. "and then we had pe and a boy in my class threw up. he had pizza."
"gross," you crinkle your nose. "you liked pe though?"
"yeah, it was fun!" violet goes off on a tangent about all the games, and jen rejoins you to help finish the bags. the three of you fall into comfortable conversation with violet as the life of the party. you like jen, you find yourself thinking. you hope it's not weird to be friends with your kid's teacher, because you could really use one here. you're lost in that thought, so you don't notice when someone appears in the doorway.
"mr. choi!" violet chirps, abandoning her task and rushing to meet him. never met a stranger, your child, because she's tugging his hand and bringing him over to you. "this is mommy."
"that's not her name though, is it violet?" jen asks, ever the teacher.
"y/n," san nods, and you don't miss the way jen looks from you to san to violet and back again. "did you get tricked into staying late?"
"no, i offered," you reply. "but i didn't have a choice, i didn't listen to your advice and couldn't leave before carpool started."
"you're all good now," he says, holding up his reflective vest all crumpled in his big hand. "just sent the last kid home."
"good to know," you nod. "vi, where's your stuff? we'll leave soon."
"no!" she whines. "i don't wanna leave!"
"don't you want a snack though?" you tempt her, and that sends the mini menace into motion.
"to what do i owe the pleasure of you stinking up my classroom, choi?" jen asks.
"i wanted to talk to you about the kid that threw up today," he says, and you must look at him confused because he asks you if anything's wrong.
"are you the pe teacher here?"
"yep," he answers. "i didn't know this was your violet," he says, nodding his head toward your kid. "she's a sweetheart. ball of energy too."
"you're telling me," you smile softly. violet walks over then, informing you that she's ready to go. you ask jen if there's anything else you can do, but she insists on you taking violet home.
"you've helped enough, believe me," jen tells you. "i'll see you tomorrow violet!"
"bye miss jen!" violet says with a smile. "bye mr. choi! i hope no one pukes on you tomorrow!"
jen waits for you and your kid to be far enough down the hall before she asks calmly. "so. how do you know y/n?"
"we, uh, we go way back," san says. "went to school together, college, all that."
"oh, so you like, really know her," jen says, a plan brewing in her head. she saw the way san looked at you. she also knows you're single. "you didn't know her kid went here?"
"didn't know she had a kid at all," san shakes his head, and he seems to get lost in a thought before he remembers what he came here for. "anyway, this kid today, you gotta tell him not to eat so much before pe..."
-
you and san didn't grow up together, exactly, but you have known him since high school. you floated around similar groups of friends, so you hung out regularly without ever getting too close. it wasn't until college that you actually became friends. you both went to a local school, at least as local as you can get for your small town. living in a city all by yourself was intimidating, but you weren't worried about not making friends. you knew they would come.
the day of your orientation, san saw you sitting by yourself in the auditorium and immediately recognized you. he brushed off his sweaty hands before walking over and softly calling your name. when you registered who he was, you smiled and invited him to sit next to you. both happy to see a familiar face, you spent the rest of orientation attached at the hip. in fact, you spent the rest of your time at school like that. san was your best friend, nothing more. he didn't always feel that way, but he did a good job of hiding his feelings. he was able to hide how he felt about you all the way up to the final semester of your senior year.
you were thriving, one of those seniors itching to finish school and get out into the real world. you knew you were just months away from a successful career, and you wouldn't let anything get in your way. you liked that you didn't know what was coming next or where you would end up after graduation. the prospect of moving to a new city, hell, maybe a new country, was exciting. this restlessness is what made san speak up. he was ready to graduate too, sure, but he was ready to get out of the city. san always wanted to be a teacher, and he already had offers all across the state, but the only job he cared about was in his hometown. it's where he wanted to be, and he knew that if he didn't tell you how he felt now, he may never get the chance. he wanted you to know so he could at least have a chance with you, even for a little while.
so he confessed, one night early in the semester. he was walking you home, his dorm only a few doors down from yours. at the door to your dorm he pulled you into a hug, which was normal for him. san was always a touchy friend, but what he said as he pulled away still bounces around in your head.
"y/n, i think i'm in love with you," he said earnestly. you looked in his eyes, trying to find the beginnings of a smile, some hint of a secret, that this was a joke. but he was serious. when you didn't say anything he shrugged, stepped away, and added, "i just wanted you to know."
you still don't know if it was shock or fear that kept you from saying anything that night, from calling his name and pulling him back in. but you didn't say anything then, you didn't say anything for months. san pretended like it never happened, and you just went along.
it didn't come up again until the going away party at the end of the year. school was over, finals done, and graduation was days away. everyone wanted to celebrate the past four years and freak out over what was next, all sharing where they were going and how scared they were. san was moving back home to be a teacher and wasn't scared at all. you were leaving for a bigger and better city the day after graduation and you were terrified.
later, san pulled you to the side and asked if you were ok. you knew he was referring to the job stuff, but you had other things on your mind. you were a little tipsy, so you decide that's why you leaned in and kissed him. it was quick, soft, barely a kiss, but you did it. you kissed him and pulled back faster than san could think, his eyes still closed when you parted and said, "i just wanted to know what it would feel like."
you were able to avoid him for the rest of the party, enjoying your last few hours with some of your best friends. you had an early morning, so you stopped drinking before everyone else and found yourself as a designated walker at the end of the night. you and san were elected to walk a few friends back to their dorms, dropping them off as you passed each building on your own walk home. inevitably, you were left alone with san at your door like that night months ago. san looked like he wanted to say something, and you didn't want him to leave, so instead of separating at the door you invited him in.
you'll never forget that night, and neither will san. but with your paths parting in a few days, you thought it would be something you could move on from eventually. a few weeks later, in your new city, at the perfect job, you found out you were pregnant. it hurt, the decision to not tell san, but the thought of stopping your life before it even started hurt more. you figured you would never see san again, or that you could at least keep the kid a secret if you ever hung out with your college friends again. you never thought that you'd somehow end up moving your daughter to the neighborhood where san grew up, or that the great school you fought to enroll her in could possibly be where san currently worked. but that's life, isn't it? or fate. or maybe just dumb luck. whatever it was, the universe was trying to get you to tell the truth and you're not sure you're ready to do that. to yourself, to violet, or to san.
-
san can't stop thinking about you. he tries so hard to catch a glimpse of you during carpool, but he's too busy focusing on a million other things and never manages to find you. he tries to think about how he could use violet to talk to you, like sending a note home with her, but that's inappropriate. he needs to see you again, though. that's when he gets an idea.
you and jen have become genuine friends, which has made things confusing for violet only because she treats jen like her teacher in casual settings. you met up for dinner the other night and violet raised her hand to ask jen a question, so hopefully she'll get used to it. san knows you two are close, and he knows if he asks jen about you she'll tell him whatever he wants to know.
at lunch one day he finds jen in the teacher's lounge and motions to the empty seat at her table. she lets him sit, but warns, "wooyoung saved the other seats for himself, so leave now if you want to."
wooyoung, one of the third grade teachers, was actually one of san's best friends. he's a hand full, yes, but fiercely loyal and caring. san doesn't necessarily want him to hear the conversation he wanted to have with jen, but oh well. as soon as san has that thought, wooyoung is bursting through the door with a stack of plastic containers from the lunchroom in his arms.
"m'lady," he nods to jen as he passes her a container. he looks to san and asks, "you want one bro?"
"what's in it?" san asks skeptically, and wooyoung shows off a stack of chicken sandwiches. "seriously?"
"hey, they're really good," jen pipes up. "the kids are lucky they get to eat these."
"how did you get so many?" san asks wooyoung as he takes a sandwich anyway.
"flirted with the lunch ladies."
"course you did," jen rolls her eyes, taking a bite of the sandwich. she chuckles to herself, and then shares, "you know, there's a kid in my class who calls these sammiches? no matter how many times you correct her, she won't say anything else. she told me this morning she didn't want to come to school, but she did because it was sammich day."
that's violet. san knows it is. he heard a snippet of your conversation in jen's classroom weeks ago, but he also knows he's heard violet say something similar when she comes to the gym. she loves those sandwiches, and san must admit, now that he's tried one he gets the hype. this is his shot though, he thinks to himself. he clears his throat and asks, "that's y/n's girl right?"
"who's y/n?" wooyoung asks, and jen responds, "san's girlfriend."
"no she's not," san says quickly. "she's kidding."
"you like her though?" wooyoung smirks, and san shakes his head.
"i-it's not like that," san explains. "i knew her a long time ago, and haven't seen her for a few years. that's all."
"so what about her?" jen asks.
"what do you mean?"
"well you brought her up," jen laughs. "you want me to tell her you asked about her? that feels very elementary of you, san."
"no, no, i was just, uh," san racks his brain for a response, "um, she's your room mom right? i may need to talk to her, for um, uh, field day."
"sure," jen nods. "i can give you her number, if you don't have it?"
"yeah, yeah," san nods too, "sure, if you think that'll be ok. i mean, i just needed to ask something, really quick, but, um, sure, yeah."
"if you really need to talk to her, she's coming in tomorrow i think," jen says, checking her phone. "yeah, tomorrow is violet's birthday, so y/n is bringing cupcakes at lunch. you can just stop by my class table and ask her whatever you need to ask her."
"oh, cool, great," san nods. wooyoung and jen share a quiet laugh, noticing that san seems like a bobblehead nodding so nervously. "yeah, tomorrow. lunch tomorrow. i'll be here."
-
you're running late. it's your kid's frickin birthday and you're late. you wanted to be supermom, make cupcakes from scratch, but work has been crazy on top of all the prep for violet's party, and you're just one woman. you can't do all of this by yourself, and it's times like these that you wish...no. that's not where you're going to let your mind wander today. today is all about violet, so as you rush out of the grocery store, you handle the store bought cupcakes with intense care. you can't be late and show up with smushed cupcakes.
thankfully this town is small enough that everything is within spitting distance, so you arrive at violet's school with just a few minutes left in her lunch. you hurry through the check in, rushing off to where you hope the lunchroom is. it would be just your luck to get lost right now, but you let out a breath of relief when you turn the corner and see the cafeteria ahead. you have to pause at the door to look for her class, and you hold back a sob when you see one very broad shouldered man sitting next to your beautiful daughter. you manage to walk up without violet seeing you, but at the sound of your footsteps, san turns. he smiles at you softly and he looks so much like violet it hurts. your eyes drift to your daughter, who's noticed you now and bounces in her seat.
"hey birthday girl," you say meekly, clearing your throat before you speak again. "how's your day been?"
"good!" violet smiles, showing you a half eaten vanilla cupcake with purple icing. "mr. choi brought me birthday cake!"
"aw, that's sweet," you say, looking to san. he's staring at you intensely as you ask, "did you tell him thank you?"
"i did!" violet confirms, but she turns to san and repeats, "thank you, it was yummy."
"do you have room for another?" you ask her, holding up the cupcakes you brought. violet already looks ready to bounce off the walls, so you'll have to apologize to jen later, but you ask if she wants to help pass out cupcakes to her friends. you hold the containers as she carefully hands out the treats, and you're pleased to know there were plenty of cupcakes for everyone. actually, there's some left over, so you start packing them up to take home but violet stops you.
"mommy, we need to give mr. choi one," she tells you, and you look to san sheepishly. "and there's one for you too, mommy!"
"i guess we're having cupcakes," you chuckle with san, offering him one of the last two cupcakes. "vi, can i take your spot?" she nods eagerly, letting you sit on the hilariously tiny lunch chair. you struggle balancing on it and look up to see san watching, trying not to laugh. violet is oblivious though, icing smeared all over her face as she talks to her friend across the table. "hey, no laughing. it's been a long day."
"sorry," san says, the remnants of a smile still on his face. "you doing alright?"
"i'm fine," you sigh slightly. you look at san again, really look at him, and you feel your heart constrict. "thank you for bringing her a cupcake."
"oh, sure," san says. "i didn't want to overstep, but jen told me yesterday, and i figured violet could at least take it home, but when i got here and didn't see, uh...you weren't here-"
"you can say it, i was late to my own kid's birthday," you laugh, rubbing your hand over your face. san finds himself staring at your fingers and something pops into his head.
"and again i ask, you doing alright?" he laughs with you. "being a parent must be hard."
"it has its bad days," you admit. "but for every bad day there's hundreds of good ones, so it makes the whole single parenting thing a little easier."
there it is. single. san looks down to your hands again, and has to hide his satisfied smirk. there's no ring.
"so, what-" san starts to ask, but the bell dings and the cafeteria erupts in even more sound. students talking, teachers yelling, chairs scraping as everyone is set in motion. jen walks over then, smiling when she sees you and san sat so close together. she waves hello before calling for her class, and you give violet a big squeezey hug and a kiss on the forehead before she takes her food and runs off. san watches you watching violet, and now it's his turn for his heart to twist. he's missed you. a lot.
"i guess i better go," you say as you gather all of the cupcake trash. san covers his hands over yours, stilling your movements and your heart, and says, "let me, i'll clean up."
"th-thank you san," you say shyly, and he waves you off. he can feel your eyes on him as he walks to the trash cans, and he can't help it, when he turns around he pulls a face that used to always make you laugh. his success rate is still high, because a beautiful giggle appears from deep within your chest, and then san is standing back in front of you. you know him, and you know there's something he wants to say, so you ask, "are you doing alright?"
"i'm fine," he nods, and you playfully push his shoulder. he smiles as he goes on, "actually, i was thinking about it, and i'll need your new number. for field day purposes, of course."
"oh," you breathe. "oh, right. room mom stuff. um, well unless you deleted my contact info, my number is the same."
"oh."
"yeah."
"right, then i guess i'm good," san says, looking around for any last bits of trash. "always good seeing you, y/n. tell violet happy birthday again from me."
"will do," you squeak out, calling out your thanks to him one last time as he walks away. you're left in the now silent lunchroom, heart and mind racing.
-
"i'm just saying, you and san would make a cute couple," jen repeats for what feels like the millionth time today. she's come over to your house early to help set up violet's birthday party, and you're thankful for the help but wishing the set up was less obvious. "you already know each other, so it's not like you'd have to go through that awkward dating phase-"
"did we put balloons on the mailbox already?" you cut through her words, grabbing a couple pink and purple balloons from the pile on the table. "i'll do that now, so people know which house it is. if vi wakes up, tell her i'll make birthday pancakes as soon as i'm done."
"will do," jen salutes you, taking the remaining balloons into the living room. "i'll tack these to the ceiling or something."
"please don't!" you call out before you shut the door, and you take a deep breath when you're outside alone. you don't know how to make jen stop talking about san, and it's draining. you've tried changing the subject and she always finds a way to bring san back into it. she means well, you know that. but what she doesn't know is that everything she says about san just rubs salt in the wound you inflicted on yourself, and it's getting harder to ignore. you're either going to snap and tell her to shut up, or you're going to snap and admit to what you've been hiding. either option isn't ideal, so fingers crossed violet wakes up soon and you can use her as a buffer.
tying the balloons to your mailbox ended up being more of an ordeal than you thought, so it takes you a while to trudge back into the house. you're tired already and the party hasn't started yet. you're making another cup of coffee when you realize the house is quiet, no sounds of jen and no sounds of vi. you let the coffee pot run as you walk around in search of the girls, and you hear a faint noise coming from the backyard. a peek through the window shows jen and violet running streamers from the back porch to vi's playset, and your heart warms. while they're outside, you get to work on the birthday pancakes in peace. you're almost done with them when you get a call, groaning to yourself thinking it's a parent calling about the party. you don't check the name before you answer, letting out a perfectly nice, "hello?"
"y/n, hi," san says on the other line. "is this a bad time?"
"um, n-no," you stammer, "it's um, no, i can talk. just for a minute."
"if you're busy i can call back-"
"no, san, go ahead," you insist. "just be warned i'm making pancakes, so i am a little distracted."
"oh yeah, you used to suck at those," san teases, and for a moment you're thrown back to college. you remember san staying over at your dorm, claiming he was too drunk to walk the fifteen steps down the hall. you let him crash on your floor, and he woke up to an awful hangover and the sound of you cursing over your batch of blackened pancakes. trying to be nice, san tried one anyway. you'll never forget the way you both belly laughed after he lied and said they were good with a look of fear in his eyes. later he admitted he'd never had something so bad, and you swore to never make pancakes again. san obviously remembers, because he asks, "what made you stop the pancake ban?"
"they're for vi's birthday."
"her birthday was on tuesday i thought?"
"yeah, but we're having her party today," you explain, and then you clap your hand to your forehead. you shouldn't have said anything.
"oh then i won't keep you," san says quickly. there's something strange in his voice, but you're so far removed from him that you can't pick up on it. "i hate to call about school stuff on the weekend, but this is the only time i had..."
while san explains the reason for his call (room mom duties + he missed you, but he leaves that part out), jen and violet come in from the backyard. streamers are done, and violet is wearing a torn one around her neck like a scarf. you wave her over for a hug and a kiss, and jen mouths, "who are you talking to?" so you show your phone screen. she gasps when she sees it's san, and it's like you're watching a lightbulb spring from her head. she's got an idea.
"invite him to the party!" jen hisses, and you push her away.
"is that the birthday girl?" san asks, and there's a softness in his voice that makes you melt. "do you need to go?"
"no, just one of the birthday elves being annoying," you grumble, trying to elbow away from jen but she grabs your phone anyway and says a cheery hello to her coworker.
"hey san! happy saturday," she starts off. "listen, are you doing anything around, say, one o'clock?"
"uh, not that i can think of-"
"great! then i'll have y/n text you her address, you should come to violet's party. there's plenty of food, and we'd love to see you!" jen says with an evil smile plastered on her face.
"um, can you hand me back to y/n?" san asks, and jen relinquishes your phone then disappears.
"san, you do not have to come if you don't want to, jen is-"
"jen's what!?" jen shouts from somewhere within your house.
"i want to come," san says, and you're so surprised you almost drop the pancake you're trying to flip. "if that's ok."
"i..." you trail off, and then you look at violet. sweet, lovely violet. you would do anything for that girl, but you know she deserves more. she deserves both parents, and the little part of you that's been wondering if san's reappearance was a sign is the part that wins you over. you say, "yeah, come to the party. i want you here."
"then i'm there," san says, and you can hear his smile. "should i bring a present?"
"no, god, don't worry about that. girl's spoiled already, she doesn't need another toy," you tell him, and san laughs.
"alright. then text me the address, and i'll see you soon i guess."
"yeah, see you soon," you mumble as you hang up and look around for jen. she's rightfully hiding somewhere, but violet's voice distracts you as she asks who you were talking to. "well sugar, i have an extra birthday surprise for you," you say as you plate her pancakes. "mr. choi might be coming to your party, is that ok?"
"mr. choi?!" violet shrieks as she stands in her chair. you remind her not to do that and she listens, but she looks at you and asks, "for seriously? he's my favorite teacher."
"hey," jen whines as she rejoins you, throwing away the remnants of wrapping paper in her hands. "and to think i got you the biggest coolest birthday present ever."
"really?" you and violet ask in unison, and jen nods enthusiastically at your daughter. when she joins you at the sink she whispers, "i didn't go overboard."
"yes you did," you whisper back.
"what did san want?" jen asks with that evil smile again, and you try to elbow her side but she darts away too quickly.
"i had told him about the game the kinder moms wanted our grade to do for field day, and he forgot what supplies it needed," you explain. "so he was calling about that, and the call was almost over when someone interrupted."
"y/n, listen," jen says sternly, and you both look over to violet to make sure she's distracted. jen keeps her voice down as she continues, "he likes you. don't ask me how i know, but i know. and the way you get so nervous around him, i know it sounds childish, but i think you have a crush on him-"
"jen," you say seriously. "please stop. you don't know what you're doing."
"no, y/n, you don't know what you're doing!" jen says, and you step back. "no, i don't mean it like that. i just mean, you said you were having a hard time doing this on your own. it may not be my place, but i think san could help. he'd be good for you and violet."
"you remember how san and i were friends years ago?" you ask, and jen nods, about to add to her case, but you cut her off. "we were close. really close."
"did you kiss?" jen asks excitedly and you roll your eyes.
"will you focus?" you smile anyway, and add, "we spent most of our time together, but then life stuff changed. we went in completely different directions, and it was just easier to say goodbye and go our separate ways. that was five years ago. well, six, now i guess," you correct yourself, your eyes betraying you as they flick back over to violet.
"oh my god," jen gasps. "no."
"yes."
"no way."
"yes."
"you're a liar."
"mommy's not a liar," violet chimes in, and you let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. "miss jen, that wasn't very nice."
"i'm sorry violet, you're right," jen says calmly. she looks closely at violet and then to you. "but sometimes what's right is hard to do."
"i know that," you sigh. "believe me. but we can talk about this later."
"you bet your ass we are!"
"miss jen!"
"sorry, sorry!"
-
you and jen do a good job of ignoring the truth bomb you set off just before guests started arriving, but knowing san will be here soon keeps you on edge all day. violet is having the time of her life, which takes a little bit of pressure off of you at least. you just have to play host to your family and friends all while keeping one eye on the door for san.
he arrives just past one. you heard the doorbell from the backyard, but as you're walking through the house you see your aunt opening the door for him. it opens to a stunning version of the man you've tried so hard to hide from, and just looking at him makes you blush. he's dressed casually, but nicer than the work out clothes you see him in at the school. jeans and a sweater, and glasses. san never wore glasses in school, and you're wondering why this news is making your stomach flip. when san finds you, his face lights up. he makes his way around a group of kids and pulls you into a polite hug, mumbling his greeting into your hair. you wish time would stop for a moment, let you stay in his hold a second longer. but he's pulling away and shyly presenting a gift bag, his sheepish eyes saying "sorry but not sorry."
"i told you not to bring anything," you scoff, taking the gift over to the present table anyway.
"it's something small, but i think she'll like it," san says, and you thank him. it's awkward for a second as you both search for something to say, but in the quiet san reaches to push his glasses further up his nose and you smile.
"so you getting old, choi?" you tease him, pointing to the glasses. "how long have you needed those for?"
"just a couple years," san shrugs. "i don't mind them, but it's easier to wear contacts at work. i actually like the way they look."
"they're cute," you agree, and you feel your heart thudding in your chest as san processes the compliment. he looks around your house then, and he distractedly puts an arm around you in another hug as he says, "your house is great, by the way. you've really made a life for yourself, y/n." he looks at you while he says the next part, "i hope you're proud of yourself."
"i am," you nod, suddenly very aware of how many people are here and possibly looking at you two. you feign a cough and san gets the hint. he pulls away and you immediately feel cold, but you catch a glimpse of jen eyeing you in the corner of the room. you shake off whatever was distracting you because of the man at your side, and you're about to excuse yourself to find violet when the woman in question appears below you.
"mr. choi!!!" she shouts as she jumps in place. "you're here!"
"i am!" he replies, holding hands and jumping with violet. "are you having fun?"
"yeah! cmere, i wanna show you my swings!" she says excitedly, and then san is being dragged outside. you follow at a safe distance, wanting to see how they interact without making it too obvious you're watching san and not your kid. some of the school kids present recognize a big kid in san and soon he's got a whole herd following him around. you laugh seeing him be so silly, so freely himself with these kids, and you wonder if this is what he's like as a teacher. then you find your mind wandering to what san would be like as a dad. you know he'd be great, so what are you doing?
you know you have to tell him. you see the way violet is smiling and laughing, and you can't keep this kind of joy from her anymore. you don't know when, and you don't know how, but you will tell san that he's the father of your daughter.
-
violet's birthday party was perfect. she had an amazing time, her friends had an amazing time, and you had an amazing time. with san. he fit back into your life perfectly, and as you were saying your goodbyes at the end of the night, you had the intense desire to kiss him. you didn't, but that's only because jen came over with a sleepy violet that she thrust into your arms. you and san were cooing over the tired party girl and jen inconspicuously snapped a picture of the three of you. you and san, looking down at violet with so much love in your eyes, and violet smiling her biggest smile. jen texted it to you later and you were grateful to have this moment captured forever.
you were staring at that photo now, waiting for violet to finish getting ready for school. you weren't really paying attention to the time, caught up in admiring san. you felt a sense of calm and safety when you thought of him, looked at him, and you're kicking yourself for keeping that same feeling from violet's life. you were so distracted by your thoughts that you didn't hear violet walk up, so you almost jumped out of your skin when she says, "whatcha doooin?" directly into your ear.
"oh baby you scared me," you gasp. she giggles and points to your phone.
"you were staring at mr. choi!"
"i was not," you roll your eyes, but she nods and goes, "yeah huh."
"i'm not getting into a yeah huh nuh uh fight with you right now," you say as you ruffle her hair. "you ready for school?" it's then that you give her a once over and screw your face up in confusion. "where's that shirt from? i don't remember buying you that."
"it was my gift from mr. choi, 'member?" violet says proudly as she shows it off.
"yeah, yeah, i guess i do," you reply. "you wanted to wear it to school?"
"so i can tell him thank you," she says simply, and you place a soft kiss on her forehead. your sweet girl.
"i'm sure he'll be happy to see it. c'mon, let's go."
-
san had an awful morning. none of the classes would listen to him, half of his equipment for this unit was broken or missing, and apparently he was getting evaluated this afternoon. nothing was wrong, it was just protocol, but why did he find out about it two hours before it was supposed to happen? he was stressed, unprepared, and wearing a t shirt that apparently has a hole in the armpit. one of the unruly classes so kindly pointed that out for him. so yeah, it's been a bad day. that's why he sat down at lunch with a huff, interrupting whatever jen and wooyoung had been talking about prior to his dramatic entrance.
"what's wrong with you?" wooyoung asks bluntly, and san scoffs.
"one of those days where i'm considering child abandonment."
"san!" jen gasps.
"i'm joking, chill out," he sighs. "i just. can today be over? i'd like it to be over. or can i get a redo? that might be better, considering i have an eval today i know i'm not gonna pass."
"if you go into it like that then duh you're gonna do bad," jen says. "but it hasn't even happened yet, so why be so negative?"
"whatever," san huffs again, poking at his food like it's the root of his bad day. "how has your day been."
"great, my kids are angels and i love my job," wooyoung jokes, so san kicks him under the table.
"your class was the first one to put me in a bad mood this morning."
"yeah, because i told them i accidentally killed our class pet."
"wooyoung!" jen gasps again.
"accidentally!"
"how'd you manage that?" san asks with the beginnings of a smile on his face. not that he was laughing over the death of a very tiny pet, no. but he did enjoy seeing wooyoung making mistakes. makes the world go round, he thinks.
"i forgot to take it home for the weekend and i came in this morning to bob the beta fish belly up," wooyoung explains. he raises his carton of strawberry milk in a toast, which san and jen play along with. "he didn't live long, i didn't like him, and the kids barely knew he was there. bob, may you rest in peace."
"this isn't making me feel better," san whines as they clink their drinks together.
"oh!" jen says happily, "i have something!" she shuffles around looking for her phone, and excitedly pulls something up for san to see. she shoves the screen so close to his face he can barely see anything, so he takes her phone and blinks to let his eyes adjust. he smiles immediately when he realizes it's the picture of him, you, and violet. he's so mesmerized by your beauty, all these years later, that it takes him a minute to shift his focus to the equally beautiful violet squeezed between you. she's perfect, san thinks. if he had a kid, he'd want her to be just like violet: kind, funny, full of energy and life.
"who is that?" wooyoung asks, pushing his face close to san's to catch a glimpse. "ooo, is that your milf?"
it's jen's turn to kick him underneath the table, but san must admit, that was a little funny. he doesn't answer right away, though. something about the picture has caught his attention.
"no," jen says sternly since san has gone mute. "that's my friend y/n and her kid violet, we've talked about them before. san came to her birthday party this weekend."
"the milf?!"
"no!" jen repeats. "violet. i helped y/n with the party, and since she and san go way back, i kinda invited san without her knowing."
"nice," wooyoung nods. "good. get him into the house, and then into her heart. maybe the pants too-"
"dude," san finally cuts in. "what's wrong with you?"
"you two are boring me," he sighs. "sue me if i wanted to have a little fun with our conversation."
"you took this?" san asks jen, ignoring wooyoung now. she says yes, so he asks, "can i send it to myself? do you think y/n would mind?"
"no, i think that's fine," jen replies with a smile. "go ahead."
"thanks," san mumbles, typing his number in quickly to send the photo. he doesn't want to seem weird, sitting here staring at it, but there's still something he can't quite put his finger on. something familiar about it. not quite deja vu, but like he's seen this before. he hands jen's phone back to her, and she continues some inane argument with wooyoung as san checks his phone. huh, he thinks, taking one last look at the photo as he saves it to his library. violet sure has a nice smile.
-
san's day does not get better. the evaluation was mediocre at best, but the assistant principal doing the visit pulled him aside and promised better equipment in the new year. at least one good thing came out of this awful day.
well, two good things. san keeps opening his phone just to stare at that picture of himself with you and violet. his desire to patch things up with you only continues to grow, and he's been thinking about you so much that he swears he hears your voice calling his name at the end of the day. then a squeakier, tinier voice joins in, and san realizes, oh shit, you and violet are in his office.
"hey, sorry," he shakes his head to clear his thoughts. "god, sorry. how long were you standing there?"
"not long," you assure him. "i hope we're not bothering you?"
"not at all," he says as he stands. violet runs up to him then, turning from side to side with her hands clasped in front of her. san laughs, looking from her to you as he asks, "what's going on?"
"vi had a surprise for you, and she forgot she didn't have pe today so she got into the car crying because you didn't get to see it," you explain. "we turned around as soon as i got the story, and now we're here. do you recognize her shirt at all?"
"oh my god!" san smiles, violet joining in. san bends down to pick her up and swings her around to the sound of giggles. "you're wearing my present! do you like it?"
"i do!" she chirps, hiccuping a little as the giggles continue. san slows and carefully places her back down as she says, "thank you for coming to my party."
"thank you for inviting me," san replies, and you realize he's talking to you. you consider telling him now, you can feel his gaze pulling the words right out of you, but you chicken out.
"thank jen," you remind him. "she's the one who ambushed me."
"ambush?" san laughs nervously. "i hope me coming over wasn't an ambush."
"i shouldn't have said that," you shake your head. "i just." you take a deep breath. "it's been hard, you know, seeing you again. getting used to you being back in my life."
"happy to be here," san says coolly, and you pick up on the undertones. you knew he must have been upset with you, only wanting him when you couldn't have him. he'd given you so many chances to be his, but you grasped the last one. san was mad at himself first, and he's not mad at you per se, but the memory of that still hurts. he could have been in your life, violet's life, this whole time. it was you who kept the door bolted shut. now it's like there's little cracks filtering in bits of sunlight, and you're basking in them. you're just afraid that the warmth you feel from san now will burn you someday, that your past will be too hard to get over, and you can't tell him about violet until you know how he really feels.
"listen, we should go, but i want to hang out with you soon," you tell him, and san looks at you confused. "we need to catch up, don't you think?"
"sure," san agrees. "let me know where to be and when, i'll make it work."
-
that friday night, you have a babysitter (jen) and plans to meet san for dinner. jen is already here, you can hear her and violet whispering about something in the living room as you finish getting ready. this is not a date, but you're so nervous it might as well be. you could end up telling san tonight, if things go right. and if they go wrong...that's what's making you so nervous. the anxious side of you is already thinking of schools you can move violet to if the night goes bad, and the optimist is thinking about san finally being a dad to violet.
it's like he knew you were thinking about him, because his caller id lights up your phone (yes, his contact photo is that picture).
"you're cancelling," you say as soon as you pick up.
"what? no, freak," san chuckles. "i'm outside, but i'm sorry, i can't remember if your house has the red door or the blue one."
"you're what?" you ask, walking from your room to the front door. jen and violet watch on in curiosity, and you let out a sound of disbelief when you open the door to see san, standing by his car, looking from your house to the one next door.
"oh. found it," he teases, hanging up as he comes to the door. "you're not ready yet?"
"no, because i thought we were meeting there, i had more time," you say as you check your phone and notice you actually did not have time. "ok, i thought i had more time, but still. you didn't say you were picking me up."
"surprise?" san says sheepishly, peeking inside to wave to the girls.
"hi mr. choi!" they respond in unison, and san chuckles again.
"um, well, i wasn't expecting- i still have to-" you stammer out, basically turning in circles before staring back up at san. "give me two minutes."
"two? it'll be more like ten," san calls after you. you sort of sprint back to your room, checking that you look put together. your eyes look nervous, though. you hope san can't pick up on that. you grab your favorite necklace, one that violet picked out for you recently, and hold onto the heart pendant as you take a deep breath. you can do this. it's just san, your old pal! your friend! the father of your daughter who has no idea his life could have been completely different or that it's going to change with the information you're about to give him! great! let's go eat some tacos!
you and san both give violet hugs goodbye (she insisted) and jen says goodbye with a wiggle of her eyebrows. she thinks this is a date, and she spent an appropriate amount of time hyping you up tonight. she's known san more recently, so she gave you good insight on the whole telling him situation. she assured you that, while he may be frustrated by you not telling him sooner, under it all he'll be happy. he's wanted a family of his own since he started working at the school, so she's sure he'll be nothing but thrilled once the initial shock wears off. boy do you hope she's right.
-
san is being such a gentleman. first picking you up, then rushing out of the car to open your door for you, pulling your chair out at the restaurant...it's making this feel like a date. it's also making you scared that you're going to chicken out, but you can't.
"so," san says with a :] smile. "what did you want to talk about?" you take a moment to mess with the chips and salsa in front of you before you respond. you're taking so long that san takes a deep breath and starts, "i hope you know i'm not mad at you."
"what?" you ask in a small voice, chip halfway to your mouth.
"i'm not mad at you," san goes on. "i never was. i hope you know that."
"but i was a dick," you tell him, and he lowers his head with a laugh. you want him to listen to you though, so you grab his hand laid out on the table and squeeze. "no, seriously, that was such an asshole move on my part. only letting down my walls and letting you in the night before we both moved away? i've never forgiven myself for that."
"but you should," san shrugs. "i understand. i'm glad it happened. if i had to choose, i'd rather it happen the exact same way than not happen at all."
"right," and now it's your turn to look down. you let go of san's hand and go back to messing with the food in front of you. "i'm still sorry for how i acted."
"it's ok, i promise," san assures you. you aren't looking at him so he clears his throat and says, "actually, while we're talking about...back then. i have something to tell you too." oh no, you think. you nod to encourage him to continue, not sure you can speak right now. "um, well, here goes. i know it's been years, and we've barely talked since school, but..i don't know, y/n. i still think you're the one for me, and i was just wondering, maybe, since we're both in the same town again, and we see each other so often..."
"what, san?" you whisper, afraid of what he's going to say.
"will you go out with me?" he asks. "finally?"
"san," you sigh, and he shakes his head.
"no, don't say no yet. you can think about it. i know you have a lot more to consider than i do, so i don't mind waiting. but i wanted to put it out there. in case, uh, in case you were interested."
"put it out there? why are you talking about this like a couch you're trying to get rid of?" you tease him to ease the tension. "you just asked me out and now you sound like you're not sure."
"i'm sure," san says firmly. "very sure. but i don't want you to feel pressured."
"you've never made me feel anything but loved, san," you let slip, and you want to etch the look on his face into your memory forever. he looks so pleased, so purely happy at your words. they're hanging in the air as the waiter comes by to take your order, and that provides enough of a distraction that you both go back to a semblance of normalcy when he leaves. you fall into an easy conversation, catching up over your lost years. san tells you all about work, his family, his friends. it makes you happy that you chose this town, this school, to raise your kid in.
you fill san in too, but only the highlights. you don't want to ruin your dinner with the news, so you tell him about your career since he knows the least about that. he can't stop telling you how proud he is, and reiterates how amazing you are for raising a kid on top of it. you've got a steady blush on your cheeks as you keep chatting, and you notice then that the meal is over. your plates have been cleared for a while, and san paid without you knowing. how'd he do that?
"i was going to pay for my food," you protest.
"nope, my treat," san says. "let someone else take care of you for once."
"well thanks," you squeak out. "i've got you next time though."
"if there's a next time, i'm still paying," san replies so you roll your eyes and drop it for now. "um, before we go though, i was wondering...can i ask about violet? i feel like you barely mentioned her."
"oh, sorry," you laugh it off. "i don't get a chance to talk about myself a lot, so i'm not saying i forgot to mention vi, i just..."
"i get it," san nods in understanding. "you wanted to brag about yourself for a minute, that's ok. i'm glad you did."
"good," you smile shyly. "but, yeah, violet. what about her?"
"i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me," san says, and looking into your eyes, you know he means the father. "was there some great love of your life you don't want to tell me about?"
"san, it's not like that," you tell him, then think to yourself that in a way it is true. you think san is the love of your life, but you can't say that yet. "right, well, i have something to tell you, actually," you say in a voice stronger than you expected. you thought you'd be nervous, but it's like some mom power kicks in and you're able to stare directly into san's strong, gorgeous eyes as you speak. "can i?" you motion to his hands, and he holds them out so you can place your smaller ones in his. still looking into the eyes you've grown to love, you take a deep breath and say, "i'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner. but san, you're violet's dad. she's your daughter."
"what?" he asks in a shaky voice.
"when we.." you try to explain, and have to start over, "that night. five years ago-"
"six," san corrects.
"six, you're right. that night was when she...yeah. i found out about violet a month later, after i had moved. i tried calling you. i did, i swear, and i know that sounds so childish but it's the truth. i tried calling you, tried figuring out how to tell you...but i heard how happy you were, how easy it was for you to settle into your life back at home. i didn't want to throw something unexpected at you and change all of that."
you rambled, and you're not sure how easy that was to follow. or how believable it was either, but you've said it. you're watching san take it in, and he's unnervingly calm. you can't read his face at all, but you realize you've been squeezing his hands and he's squeezing yours right back. you relax your grip then, but he doesn't. he stays quiet.
"san, say something."
"th-thank you," he stutters, finally slipping his hands out of yours. "thanks for protecting me from that, i guess."
"san, i-"
"no, y/n, it's fine," he shakes his head and stands. "come on, let's go. it's getting late."
-
the car ride is silent. san says nothing, but you can feel the emotions radiating from him. or maybe those are your own? fear, resentment, sadness...you always thought telling san the truth would make everything better. make you feel at peace at last. but currently you feel more ill at ease than you ever have. you want to crawl out of your skin, you want to scream at yourself, at san, just to get some kind of reaction out of him.
when he pulls into your driveway, he puts the car in park but doesn't unlock the door. you can tell he wants to say something, so you wait. you think you see jen peeking through the blinds, but you're not sure. a quick glance at the clock tells you violet's been in bed for a while, but knowing jen she probably let her stay up a little longer. you hope she's still awake when you go in, you could really use a hug from her right now.
"y/n," san calls your name softly. you turn your body completely so he can see you fully, and you see he's gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. "does she know?"
"huh?"
"violet," san says her name so carefully, so purposefully. like it's taken on a new meaning. "does violet now i'm her dad?"
"n-no," you stutter, and san slumps his head down. "but i told her about you. about her dad."
"she looks just like me," he says, and that's when you notice the sadness in his voice. he sounds broken, and it feels like your heart rips itself to shreds.
"san, i am so sor-"
"don't. just don't." you watch him carefully, and you think you see tears. "i can't..."
"can't what?" you want to reach out and touch him, to brush the tears away, but you hesitate.
"i can't believe you kept this from me," he says in a whisper so small you barely heard it.
"i was young and stupid and scared, san," you defend yourself. "i didn't know what i was doing, i should have tried harder to get in touch but-"
"i didn't get to be there y/n," he spits out, and you stop talking as he turns to you. "i missed her birth, her first steps, her first words. i wasn't in her life! she's my kid and you kept her from me for some of the most important years of her life."
"i know, and i'm..i'm sorry."
"sorry doesn't cut it." he's full on crying now. "i thought...i thought you cared about me. about what we meant to each other. how could you do this?"
"i was wrong to keep you away," you admit. "it ate me alive every day, but the longer i waited the harder it was to call you. and this is totally self inflicted but raising a kid on my own was hard! after i made that choice i barely had time to think about anything else!" you're shouting now, not out of anger, but frustration. "it was selfish, and i'm sorry. but i told you. you've always been part of violet's life. i tell her about her dad all the time. she asks about you, and i've never lied to her. i only kept your name, who you are to me, a secret."
"yeah that makes me feel so much better," san rolls his eyes, and you scoff before reaching over him to unlock the doors. as soon as you do, you're out of the car and rushing to your front door, san running behind you calling your name.
you get into the house and see jen moving around in the kitchen, but no signs of violet. san has stopped behind you, standing awkwardly at the threshold, so you grab his shirt and pull him along with you into violet's room. at the sound of the door opening she bolts up in bed. she looks confused, seeing two figures in her doorway, but when she recognizes you she makes little grabby hands for you to join her. again, san stays at the door, watching the two of you with a new perspective.
"cmere sugar," you whisper softly, sitting on violet's bed. you maneuver her so she's sitting on your lap.
"why is mr. choi here?" she asks, and you hear san take in a breath.
"his name is san, violet. and he's very important to me," you explain. violet is facing san as you ask, "can you tell us all you know about your daddy?" she nods, and then begins.
"mommy says he's very nice, the nicest man in the world!" violet starts out. "she says he's smart and strong and funny and handsome. she says i have his smile!" and with this she smiles, teeth and all, and san sees himself in her. it brings tears to his eyes, but she keeps going. "mommy says he's caring, and i had to ask what that meant. she says being caring means you're a good friend and you're nice to everybody. that reminds me of you, mr. san!"
"anything else baby?" you ask violet, stroking her hair. "what else do we say about daddy?"
"we love him very much," violet answers proudly. "and even if he's not with us, like in the same house or something, he's always right here!" and with that she puts her hand over her heart. she looks up at you then, asking, "did i miss anything mommy?"
"nope, you got it all sugar," and you kiss the top of her head, afraid to meet san's eyes. "thank you, violet. are you ready to go back to bed now?"
"yeah, but i want a bedtime story," she pouts, and you wonder if san notices how similar they look then too. "babysitter jen does too many funny voices, and one of them scared me."
"ok, i'll read you a story," you whisper, slowly and carefully dumping her back into bed as you stand. "but i need to talk to san really quick, is that ok?"
"uh huh," violet nods with a yawn, cuddling back up to her favorite stuffie. as san looks around her room, he notices a pillow he used to have, tucked in the corner of violet's bed. he used to call it shiber, it was something silly, but he loved that thing in college. it went missing the week before school ended, and san always wondered where it went. well, now he knows.
you carefully pull violet's door shut as the two of you back out into the hallway. the rest of the house is quiet, so you wonder briefly if jen has gone home. you look to san, ready to defend yourself further, get him to understand where you're coming from, but then you see the tears on his cheeks. now you do reach up and wipe them away, his hands covering yours and squeezing tightly.
"i am so sorry for keeping you away," you say one last time. "it was wrong. it will take time, but i will do everything i can to make that up to you."
"you can do it right now," san breathes out, the first easy breath he's taken since this conversation started. "let me be in her life. in yours. i missed so much, i can't miss anymore of it."
"we're here if you want us," you tell him, and san squeezes your hands again before pulling them from his face. he drapes your arms over his shoulders, his drifting to your waist.
"i do," he nods eagerly. "i want you." and with that, he kisses you. it's not a soft kiss, no. there's more force behind it than that. there's six years (maybe more) of repressed feelings in that kiss. it's the kind of kiss that makes you want to pop your foot up, the kind that sends butterflies soaring up from your stomach through your chest. you're so lost in the feeling that you don't hear violet's door open, and then...
"oh! mommy! mr. san is biting you!" violet shrieks, so you and san finally detach. you keep your foreheads together as you look down at violet staring disapprovingly at you.
"he's not biting me, we were kissing," you explain to her, but she doesn't like that answer.
"hey, i got in trouble for kissing a boy on the playground," she whines, and san looks at you in shock. you nod to confirm as you tell her, "that's because you shouldn't kiss at school. and you're too young. you can kiss when you're-"
"thirty," san finishes for you, making you both laugh as violet whines more.
"i was just gonna say when she's older," you whisper to him, and he shrugs.
"had to assert my parenting style somehow."
"why are you and mr. san whispering?" violet asks with a jump and her arms in the air. you're about to pick her up when san bends down and scoops her instead, so you can talk to her eye level.
"we're talking about you," you say as you boop her nose. "and stop calling him mr. san."
"what do i call him then?" she pouts, and you share your first silent parent language stare with san.
"actually baby, we have something we need to tell you..."
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pinkrelish · 2 years
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.
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singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader
✶Eddie's month began with a rough start, but as the days passed, and your time together grew, his mood improved. He opened up to you, and you listened. Then things escalated. Slow dancing in the garage? Openly flirting while hanging Christmas decorations? This wasn't what he was supposed to be doing with his coworker who was leaving in a few months. And to make matters worse..
"I swear I didn't hang that," he promised while Adrie held both your hands, giggling under the mistletoe.✶
NSFW — slow burn, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, mild sexual tension, light angst, depictions of poverty, mention of blood, reader wears eddie's work jacket, 18+ overall for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use
chapter: 6/20 [wc: 16k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12
AO3
Chapter 6: May I Have This Dance?
Eddie opened the cabinet above the coffee machine in the breakroom, and took out his mug to replace it with a themed one of Garfield attempting to coax Nermal under a sprig of mistletoe for a kiss. He stepped back, admired the change in seasons, and clung onto the giddy elation before the impending stress wove knots into his muscles.
He’d be getting a lot of use out of that mug in the coming days..
————
Eddie disguised his crisis well.
He knocked on your desk while keeping the glass door open with his foot, “Hey, can you make me another pot of coffee?”
It was a favor you were happy to oblige. Pausing from thumbing through the filing cabinet, you smiled at him over your shoulder. “Sure!”
And later, he came to you again–diverting the stress from entering his eyes by focusing on the kindness in yours.
“Do you mind if I eat alone today?” he asked, flopping his black notebook back and forth for you to frown at.
“Fine, but you owe me.” And of course, he made it up to you the next afternoon, eating his sandwich made with the scraggy ends of the loaf, and no side container of leftovers, and downing it with a mug of coffee.
Adding onto that, Eddie concealed his problems through other means. Blocking out his suffering, disallowing it from bothering others, but to you, it was no bother.
You leaned over your desk to look into the garage, and asked Mr. Moore when he was passing by on the way to his office, “Did Eddie leave somewhere?”
“Awh, he’s probably out on a smoke break,” he said, rubbing his knuckles along his grayed beard.
“Another one?”
“Yeah, guess so.” He shrugged, inadvertently confirming your fears. “Been takin’ alottavem the past couple’a days.”
You had an inkling of what was going on when you caught Eddie eating his lunch earlier. Alone, scribbling in his notebook for the third time that week, dipping a knife into an unbranded metal can labeled PEANUT BUTTER and slathering the Government supplied commodity on a plain saltine cracker.
Sustenance to live, and hardly at that. You weren’t about to let him hide his misery behind excuses meant to keep you ignorant.
After closing, when everyone went home but you and Eddie, he poured himself the last of the coffee to stave off his hunger, and you shot up from your desk.
“Hey! I’m going out for a sec. I’ll be right back, ‘kay?”
He backed his lips off the mug mid-sip in order to remind you to be safe because it was dark out, and you really should wear brighter colors for cars to see you, and to slow down before the sharp turns because there could ice on the road and you could get hurt, and, and–
“Bye!” You cut off his worrying by riding past the doors with your eyes on him, not where you were going, narrowly missing a street pole by centimeters.
~~~
Back in record time–beating the previous record by default because you’d never had this idea before–you hopped off your bike, loaded your hands with the two paper bags sitting in the handlebar basket, and ripped the stapled receipt off them. You finagled your way into the garage.
“Eddie!” you shouted his name as you entered. And louder again as you approached him from behind. Tempting as it was, you didn’t want to scare him, but part of you hated raising your voice, as well. It felt blasphemous to disturb the scene which captured your heart time and time again.
He was at the workbench in the back corner, sat on a stool with his heavy boots on footrests, knees angled out, bouncing his legs in a rhythm offset from one another–most likely parroting the drumbeat of the tinny music funneling from his headphones so loud he’d surely lose his hearing one day.
The smooth expanse of his shoulder shifted and flowed under his coveralls as he worked, hunched over a set of parts he was cleaning. He settled his forearms on the edge of the creaky wood and swirled an old toothbrush into a bowl of cleaning solution, and scrubbed at the hunk of metal in his hands, setting it aside on the stained towel when he was finished to let it dry. A diligent worker, through and through. Tendons in his tired hands straining to hold the next slippery piece as he circled the bristles over the grooves craggy with grease. Muscles in his jaw tensing from the way he clenched his teeth in between mouthing the lyrics to the music vibrating his brain.
Concentration bundled itself between his eyebrows and above his scrunched nose.
It was endearing to watch him work; watch the menial things he was good at for no other reason than to familiarize yourself with all assets of him.
But good things must come to an end, for you had a better one in store.
You caught him right as he was dropping into a reserved headbang on a chord progression you could hear wailing from where you stood. “Hey there, handsome.”
He panicked, and knocked the headphones around the back of his neck. “Shit, I didn’t hear you come in.” He paused the cassette player clipped to his pocket with a sharp click, and after fixating on your sly grin for a second longer, he dropped his gaze to the oil-soaked paper bag in your hand. “Food?”
“The burger place down the street messed up my order,” you replied in soft amusement. “Do you want the extra?”
He didn’t need convincing.
~~~
The sounds of your togetherness filled the open room–wheels rolling on concrete, crinkly wrappers in your hands, and the grateful noises of him devouring his dinner. Sitting parallel to one another on the creepers, you rolled back and forth, brushing shoulders with Eddie on each pass, stuffing your faces until your taste buds dulled with french fry oil, and sparked with blooms of tangy ketchup.
Wordlessly, he told you he was ready to talk by coming to a stop past the point of your shoulders touching, and resting his arms atop his wide-spread knees, holding the last bites of his burger in front of his face.
You twisted around to observe the width of his back rise with a deep breath.
“Child support is late again. Happens every December, but it’ll come a day or two before it’s officially considered late in January.” Deepening his voice, he put an edge of distaste when speaking about Adrie’s mom, “She has the money–her and her husband have good jobs–so it’s just to be petty and get back at me, or whatever. Like being tied to me years later should affect our kid when I don’t even speak to her.”
“Eddie..”
He shook his head to dismiss the pointless pity imbued in your tender whisper of his name. “Doesn’t matter. Money’s tight, but we get paid tomorrow, so that’ll help.. I figured you knew something was up when I stopped eating with you, but anywhere I can save helps. I want to make sure Adrie has a good Christmas this year.”
Realizing something, he raised his hand to ward off any criticism you were about to give him, having been trained to expect it from others since his daughter was an infant. “I want to make it clear.. Adrie always has food,” he stated slowly, and from a place of loathsome apprehension in his chest.
“It never crossed my mind she wouldn’t.” You pushed yourself backwards on the rolly board, and leaned into him, bicep to bicep, gazes met. “I know you’re a good dad” –He glanced away– “You are, Eddie, and I know how well you take care of Adrie, even when shit like this happens. And Christmas will always be special because of how much you love her, not because of what you buy her.”
“But I want her to keep up with her friends, and bond over whatever they’re into.”
“I know you do..”
Even to his detriment, through the sacrifices he made, he’d make sure his daughter had whatever she wanted.
You ran a purposeful knuckle along his tensed tricep. It didn’t earn his eye contact, but he did relax his hand, dropping it to peel down the rest of the wrapper and finish his burger while you spoke. “Maybe they’ll mess up my order again tomorrow, and we can eat lunch together.. And maybe Robin’s mom will make an extra casserole for dinner tonight, and I can leave it in the breakroom, if that’s okay?”
“I’d appreciate it.” No malicious pride. No toxic masculinity. No senseless denial. Eddie accepted your offer with gratitude, and packed his trash into the paper bag while you still ate, settling in with his arms hugged around his knees, ensuring some part of your bodies remained touching–in this case, it was your shoulders again.
The sweet, trusting pressure of yourselves melding into each other’s comfort.
Then, while the candidness was raw, it was your turn to point your attention elsewhere as you asked something you were shy to voice out loud, “Uhm, when we were at Adrie’s school, her teacher kept saying something about, like, you not carrying her, and babying her, or whatever.” You gestured vaguely as if you weren’t eavesdropping the entire time. “And I’d been meaning to ask if I’m–uh?–too affectionate with her? Like if it’s weird, or something I shouldn’t be doing? You’re the parent and I never really asked if it was okay before picking her up, and hugging her, and–”
He cut you off.
“No, no, no.” His assurance was delivered swift, and earnest. “How you are with Adrie is fine by me. More than fine. It’s–It’s–Seriously, it’s great having her look up to someone who isn’t me.”
“What about what her teacher said?”
“I don’t care,” he scoffed. “I know she means well, but it’s not like Adrie’s going to be a kid forever, and if I want to coddle her, who gives a shit. Now, her teacher is great, and I don’t want to diminish what my uncle, and people like Steve and Nancy have done for my family, but for most of Adrie’s life, it’s just been me and her, and even if she annoys the living fuck out of me sometimes, she’s all I have, and if I want to carry her around, I will.”
“You have me now, too.”
You heard yourself say it.
You heard yourself say it aloud, after he said his daughter was all he had, and now you had to follow it up with a tongue-tied spew of clarifications.
“Just, you know, it’s not only you, Adrie, your uncle, Steve and Nancy, and her teacher. You have me now, too, as your friend.. I mean, we are friends, aren’t we?”
Warmth spread through your body. From your ribs, outward, where he jabbed his elbow into your side. Thrumming where his weight pressed into you, sending his hip into yours. Pleasure–blooming–from his silly grin to your romantic heart, to your platonic fingers snagging the fabric of his coveralls around his thigh to stop him from shoving your board away. Yearning. Sprung from the grease dirtying your skin being the same as the black streak above his eyebrow where he wiped his bangs off his forehead.
“Yeah.. Yeah, I think after this, you’re my friend,” he agreed, accidentally kicking over the takeout bag in his teasing. “No qualifier of reluctancy, or addendums, or prefaces. We’re friends.”
Yeah, definitely friends.
Friends who could calculate the exact degree of the arc of the other’s smile through memory alone, having stared at their lips for longer than friends ought.
————
And you played the part of companion quite well, you thought, when Eddie cursed as he came in from the garage with his hand cradled to his chest.
He ducked into the bathroom, and before the door closed, he was pushing it open on his way to the breakroom sink. “Shit. Don’t we have a first aid kit?” he asked.
“Oh! I left it in the women’s restroom after I got a paper cut.” You pushed yourself away from your desk, and found it in the cabinetry, bringing it to him as he scrubbed Dawn soap over his left hand, from upper wrist to fingertips. “Is it bad?” you asked cautiously. Blood was.. fine. But anything needing stitches was more than your red zipper pouch could help with.
“I’m okay,” he grunted, voice deep with the resonance of an inconvenience, more so than true pain. “Just one of those shitty surface cuts that doesn’t stop bleeding.”
The moment Eddie’s hands were dripping with diluted red water instead of blackened motor oil droplets, you tore a paper towel from the roll, cupped his palm, and folded it over his pinky and outermost knuckles. You bent over to keep his hand over the sink, and accepted the sharp jut of his elbow tucked into the softness of your waist.
The scrapes were shallow, as he said. You pressed your thumbs over the superficial wounds until the white paper dotted bright crimson–same color as his cheeks–and he remained silent. He didn’t deny your doting. Didn’t disrupt the gesture, nor break the spell.
It was a nice moment. Until you opened an alcohol wipe and swabbed it over the afflicted area. His mouth twitched at the stinging liquid cooling on his skin. As it dried, you made brief eye contact and shied away from his suspicious squint, like you had a secret to tell him sealed behind your lips all morning.
“What’s that look for?”
While pulling out two beige bandages for his knuckles, you answered in feigned indifference, “Oh, nothing. Just.. y’know.. Mr. Moore promoted me to Office Administrator, and maybe it came with a little raise, and who knows, an extra sick day or two.”
“Nice!” He angled his hand so it was easier for you to wrap the Band-aid around to the side of his palm where there was a wet, angry cut. He was trembling from the rush of adrenaline, endorphins, and relief he didn’t get more injured from his strained muscles giving out while wielding a power tool without protective gloves on.
“So now I have the confusing job of being both the person who cleans the toilets, and also organizes payroll.” You drew your eyebrows in. “Whatever organizing payroll means.”
Eddie watched you turn over the pouch to shake out the slots where the more grown up, adult bandages usually resided, and came up empty. Instead, a metal tin with Sesame Street characters clattered on the countertop. You popped it open.
“Hope you don’t mind,” you said.
Cookie Monster and Big Bird were gingerly wrapped around his pinky, protecting him from further harm.
Bright, cheery colors in contrast to the grime nestled into the crevices of his skin, and the dark blue coveralls he wore today. Your delicate touch. And his rough calluses. Your soft, chapstick-slick lips. And his cold-weathered mouth lifted at the corner. Your obedient body turning with his. And his face drawing near. Your tender, weak grip on his injured hand. And his sneaky fingers reaching past you.
He took three extra Band-aids and put them in the pocket below his embroidered name patch.
Eyelashes fluttering at the sensation of your forearm resting against his stomach, you chided him in the faintest exhale, “That’s stealing from the company, you know. I could write you up.”
Pleading with you amidst a persuasive smile, he begged, “If Adrie sees I have a cool Band-aid, and she doesn’t get one too, she’ll be upset.”
“That’s not fair.” Not like you cared if he took things from work, but if the Band-aids were for Adrie, you’d give him the entire tin, and he knew it. “You play a mean game, Eddie, using my greatest weakness against me.”
He took another Bert and Ernie, and slipped them in with the others, patting his pocket flat.
In a defeated sigh, you crumbled under the smug display of his proud chest, gaze trained on the cursive lettering composing his name, the motor oil blackening his cuticles, and the grease stain on his coveralls from the french fry he dropped earlier.
“Who’s the pushover now?”
“Considering you’re robbing me of Sesame Street Band-aids to bribe your daughter out of a tantrum?” You looked him up and down, from his half-closed eyes to the ketchup stain. “Still you.”
He hummed a warm reply, and twitched his other hand closed, curling his fingers over yours for a split second. A movement stunted by the bandages. Likewise, you drummed your fingertips on the heel of his palm, and let go.
“Wear your gloves next time, idiot.”
“Yes, dear.”
————
Taking on the role of Office Administrator meant one thing to the both of you: less time together.
The interactions were fleeting; sneaking a glance at each other when Eddie made an unnecessary trip to the breakroom to get his jacket for an equally unnecessary smoke break. But it meant he’d pass by Mr. Moore’s office twice while you were being taught how to fill out ledgers and spreadsheets. Two possibilities for you to become enamored with his hair flowing from underneath his bandana, and two chances for him to capture your interest with his charm–his larger than life presence stomping past the door with his chin held high and his hands in his back pockets, looking at you out the corner of his eye, and giving you that tight, knowing grin.
It was lonely working in the mornings, having a short lunch at your desk while scheduling business meetings with salesmen for Mr. Moore, and clocking out at 4PM to help take care of things at home while Robin was managing the night shift, and her dad was on bed rest.
You missed Eddie.
Eddie missed you.
————
It was a cold, bleak mid-December night after a dreary day of clouds and wind. The service bay doors were closed, except for one to allow the draft to carry out lingering exhaust fumes. Darkness smothered the world beyond the auto shop, interrupted intermittently by the odd car stopping at the streetlight. Turn signals blinked. Headlights peered into the warehouse, shining light on the single truck in the empty garage.
Blissful, tranquil winter. Crisp, throat-aching air. Bites of frost sinking into flesh. Numbed fingers. Frozen teeth nipping at the bone. Undisturbed. Quiet. No music.
“Man, it’s freezing in the lobby,” you complained loudly upon entering Eddie’s domain and crouching in front of the space heater next to the workbench.
The pair of legs sticking out from under the truck shifted.
Surprised by your sudden appearance, and grumpy about the loss of hot air directed at him, Eddie beat his wrench on the wheel axle to show his annoyance when you giggled and refused to move. In fact, you hunkered down, rubbing your palms together, hogging all the warmth while having the audacity to wear his tan work jacket.
He tapped the heel of his heavy work boot at you. “I thought you left for the day.”
“Did you really not notice me at my desk for the past hour?”
After waving the tool at the underside of the truck he’d been staring at for the better part of the evening, he then tucked his chin to make a snide remark, “Do you think I keep track of your whereabouts at all times?”
“Yes.”
No response except for a sour expression. Predictable. It was in his best interest to roll his head to the side, and pretend to be working by muttering mathematics to himself. You, however, stood up, and sidestepped the heater to read the buttons on the stereo radio, and dug for the cassette you slipped into the jacket’s pocket before coming out here.
Snap. Click. Whirr.
The black tape spun on the wheels, and from the speakers strung at the back corners of the garage, music began.
Eddie’s groan rose above the plucky piano keys. “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re subjecting me to Christmas music.”
You shushed him, “It’s just jazz.”
Ella Fitzgerald’s warbling hum filled the concrete walls. Her stunning voice and evocative, blunt lyrics soothed your eyes closed. Face-burning words you weren’t ashamed of. You let them take you. Dipping and swaying your shoulders side to side as the piano lulled you into its drunken blitheness. Guiding you two steps to the left, the right. A lazy turn. Paused on the cusp of anticipation. You stopped. Blinked lovingly at the boots beneath you.
“May I have this dance?”
Metal clinked to the ground. Eddie gripped the edge of the car, and pulled himself out. Pushed himself into a sitting position on the creeper, focusing on your hand extended to him, and climbing his gaze upwards. To the smudges of pencil lead and blue pen ink on the inside of your fingers from where you gripped the writing utensils, to the coffee stain on the cuff of his jacket, the name patch, the roundness of your cheeks from your hopeful smile.
“My hands are dirty,” he said.
“I don’t care.” You urged in all gentleness, “Don’t turn me down because you’re shy. I’ll teach you.”
Teach me, he mouthed.
A delicious secret emerged.
Excitement, charismatic boisterousness, unhesitating–eager–sincere excessive vulnerability, bursting to be the shameless youth he used to be and oh so endearing–Eddie sprang into action at the upkick in tempo. The namesake of the song vibrated under his ribs–I’ve Got a Crush On You–and the garage blurred in your dizzy eyes.
Eddie, Eddie, eddie eddie eddie, eddieeddieeddie. Hawkins’ reject, the town’s outcast, Eddie, in all his awkward, standoffish exterior built to protect his sensitive heart, swept your right hand into his left. Raised them. Compelled you into a fast, tight spin under his arm, and at the rotation’s completion, you sank into each other’s embrace like a released breath.
You used the solid curve of his shoulder as leverage, and fit your other hand in the space between his thumb and index.
Eddie didn’t lead.
He demanded you follow.
His muscles were braced with ego as he ushered you backwards. Large advances towards you, forcing you away from the truck, and half-turns to the side with an appropriate pressure at your waist to follow him to the unoccupied center of the garage. But his modest hand grew longing in the distance as you struggled to keep up in the short chase. The thick jacket meant for durability kept him wanting more, and he used it to reel you in. Draw you near. Bodies untouching, but radiating heat in the hushed sigh of winter rolling in from the service door.
Not once had you managed to sound the question on your parted lips, but he understood it, and answered.
“You’re not the only theater kid,” he said softly. “It was the only elective I liked. Had to learn to dance for a few parts over the years, and if I may judge by your reaction, I’m not half-bad.”
You laughed, “Wh-Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
The smug grin he wore waned to something more humble in nature. “Mm-nn. I never wanted to interrupt your stories. It’s more interesting listening to you talk about how you played a witch in a slutty Off-Off-Broadway rendition of Macbeth where you managed to snap both your stilettos in the first Act, than it is for me to go on about how I played background character #4 in my second senior year of high school and mostly used the class as an excuse to make props and shit.”
“Eddie,” you whined. Once upon a time, during your first days working here, he told you to leave him alone for jabbering on about the theater works you and Robin were a part of, and now he reveals this? “I didn’t even think you were listening when I told you those stories. And again! Why–didn’t–you–tell me?” Your words were minced from you shaking his shoulder.
“I didn’t think it’d be relevant,” he explained, speaking in that shy mumble of his.
“We could’ve been dancing this whole time.”
Eddie hung his head back, and bounced his brows upward. “Mmm. You make it sound like you’ve been wanting to do this since we met.” His hum, his words sent his Adam’s apple crawling up the deep shadows his jaw cast on his throat. Vibrating from within his alluring chest, and coming from the plump lips which appeared less blemished since the last time you were blessed with studying them up close.
The tube of Carmex you found in his pocket was doing wonders.
Basking in the overhead lights as flowers did in the sun, he listened to the end of the song fade. He willed his eyes half-open as it switched, dropped his face to lock onto your gaze, and obeyed the slower rhythm. Languid lurches into your compliant hips to the smooth saxophone. Step, step– With a pivot, guiding you around the floor in an unpredictable routine. One which kept you guessing. Had the rolled cuff of his pants brushing against your ankle, and his body coaxing you into a quick reverse turn at the piping trumpets on the following track. Broached the intimacy of his scent in your nose. Of course he didn’t smell great after a long day of working, but.. By your racing heart rushing blood in your ears, you had to admit, you didn’t find it as gross as you should, either.
Breaking you from your trance of staring at the frizzy baby curls sticking to the dried sweat on his neck, he suggested, “Dip?”
Your surprised shriek bubbled into a scathing yelp of Mother Fu–.
Impatient, ineloquent, and forgetful of manners. It was by the grace of your muscle memory you grappled for his upper body before your eyes could adjust to the upside down car cruising by the shop, puttering to a stop at the intersection. The arch he put in your back was wicked. Sinful, even. Supported by his strong arms.
Merciful, he righted your world. And in reconciliation, he observed you with the same obsessive interest he showed when he made you laugh. Watching for your reaction, and when it was adoring, he relaxed the apology from his features.
He hooked a finger around the lock of hair stuck at the corner of his mouth, and pulled it free; clasped your hand again–the other was slipped under the back of the jacket, and he settled his forearm around your waist, hot palm on your spine.
You took the cue. You climbed the scope of his shoulder to wager your dignity on the tight muscle at the crook of his neck. When he didn’t object, and his easy grin remained, you ventured under his unruly mane and found the back of his neck. You slipped your thumb into his collar, and rested it along the naked skin of his nape.
He shivered.
A car passed by.
The gossipers of Hawkins watched a mechanic and his boss’ receptionist-turned-Office-Administrator stare into each other’s eyes, and sway.
The distance between you two was unassuming, except for the tastes of more when the music encouraged, twirling yourself under his lifted arm as two separate beings, and rejoining as a pair, rocking back and forth, side to side, smiling from the exploration into something new.
The drum beats ebbed to a drowsy cadence.
Minutes passed. The embrace became familiar. Your held hands were sticky with shared dust and nervous sweat. His exhale mingled with your inhale. The steady sway was a polite shuffle in either direction, any direction. It didn’t matter. The embrace was the point.
“As Office Administrator,” you started, “I wanted to throw a party next week, the day before our holiday off. It’d be right after work, if you wanted to hang out, eat, and maybe bring Adrie?”
Before he could answer, you lowered your voice to an all-too-candid beg, “Please? I promise it won’t be boring. Mr. Moore said no one’s thrown a work party before, and I’m terrified no one but Kevin and his three dogs will show up.” You put a compassionate squeeze on the back of his neck. “Please don’t let it just be me, Kevin, and his three dogs.”
The bottom of Eddie’s two front teeth showed as he spoke on the verge of a grin, “I thought he only had two.”
You whispered dramatically, “It’s three now.”
He pretended to think over the offer, shifting from foot to foot.
“Eddie.”
As if he could keep up the act when you craved his name like that. “I’ll go,” he placated you, but not before inclining his head, viewing you through his messy bangs and long lashes. “And of course I’ll bring Adrie.”
You celebrated by punching up your linked hands–yours smelling of pencil shavings, and his of burnt brake pads. Eddie used it to maneuver you into another turn. Smooth, suave. A true gentleman.
“Would you help me decorate too?” you dared ask. His answer was an apathetic grumble. “And maybe bring any non-denominational wintry decorations you have because all I could find in town were very red and green, and very Christmas-leaning.”
“You’re not sweetening the deal.”
“But it’s a ‘yes,’ isn’t it?”
Another dissuasive grumble.
Whimsy, breathless lyrics about fresh love trilled from the speakers. The cassette was on its last song before needing to be flipped.
“Do you really listen to jazz?” he asked, skirting into the territory of curiosity as his frame rocked you to the left.
“I listen to a little bit of everything,” you answered honestly, engaging in a fluid stride to the right. “Are you asking because of the music you listen to?” At once, your expression went wry, and his widened to barely constrained intrigue, like you were two steps ahead of him, reading his private thoughts. “The kinda stuff you blast when you think I’m not around.”
“You’ve heard that?”
Not helping the pink hue stemming from the hot base of his neck beneath your palm, you were quick to tease him, “Well, I’m not exactly competing in the Tour de France, y’know. You don’t wait for me to ride away before starting up your little concerts in here when you tell me to leave early. Bet you play air-guitar ‘nd everything when I’m gone, like a dork.”
Visibly curbing his habit to lick his lips, not desiring the swipe of dust it’d come with, Eddie narrowed his eyes, and cocked his head back to regard you down the slope of his nose. “Yeah? And what do you think of the music I listen to?”
“Unsurprising. Suits your image.” Engaging in a bit of intentionality, you worked your hand from his nape and introduced your fingertips to his other shoulder, wrapping your arm tighter around him, and you were enveloped by his warmth doing the same. The waistband of his coveralls rubbed against the metal zipper of his bulky jacket you wore as you moved in unison. “I recognize the big stuff. Metallica, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest..” You shrugged. “Accept?”
The tip of Eddie’s nose came into focus, then his big eyes searching yours as he turned his face side to side, examining you up close. “I wasn’t even playing Balls to the Wall. No one just casually names Accept like that. You like them!”
“Okay, okay, slow down, don’t get too excited,” you calmed him before he strained a tendon in the very finger he pointed at you. “I’ve couch surfed with a lot of weirdos, and lived with six roommates at one point. I’ve listened to my fair share of music through thin walls whether I liked it or not.. But yeah, I like metal enough, I guess.”
Though he unlinked your waltzing hands in his rush to assert himself in your personal space, his arm around your waist persisted–and if he were wary of crossing boundaries, he showed no heed when he employed his strength to press your chests together through the layers of clothes in a sense of spontaneity.
Your view was eclipsed by the thrill in his boyish grin, and then, his hair was slipping from your curious fingers.
“Wait here–!”
And he was gone. His body heat bounded away and out the back door. You were stunned with your hands still posed as if he were there.
You dropped your arms to your sides, and clutched the rugged canvas jacket around you, waiting, listening to the gravel crunch and a car door slam, peering out into the dark to see what became so important he left his dancing partner in the middle of the warehouse in utter confusion.
“Got it,” he said in his stride to the stereo.
“Got what?” It was rude enough to abandon you, and now he was ignoring you in his frenzy. You followed him to the workbench, and turned to the side to rest your hip on it. The heater thawed your shins while Eddie pried open a cassette, but you couldn’t read the front from how he held it in his palms.
Snap. Click. Whirr.
He leaned his ass on the table top and folded his arms over his chest, instilling a narrow distance between you two. His gaze was on the floor. Eyes falling closed. For once, he did not want to see your reaction.
The speakers crackled with static.
You startled.
It was a hard left turn from the somber jazz from before.
Drumsticks crashed on cymbals, setting the aggressive pace for a piercing guitar to enter on a screeching note, quickly devolving into thrashy chords sure to make the fingers sore, along with a bass and rhythm guitar that were getting lost in your pounding head.
Though he wasn’t watching, you schooled the surprise from your features, and relaxed your shoulders. The music wasn’t offensive in the least, but it was loud.
After the initial assault, and a quick bass solo, you were nodding along, enjoying the overwhelming beat pulsing in your throat making it difficult to breathe.
The shredding guitar wept to a softer bridge, and the vocals began.
The vocals began.
The vocals..
The lyrics were spoken–sung–with the last word being dragged into a melodic ballad as the instruments went silent. A rich note held by a man whose voice was neither deep, nor falsetto. Perfectly in the middle. Perfectly fitting your preference. Perfectly matching the one you heard most days, and thought about at night, when your bed was lonely and your body was flushed with heat.
Perfectly matching..
You snapped your attention to Eddie’s face. His eyelids twitched with movement. Individual curls of his hair swung in time to his head dipping to the tempo. His cheek jumped at the start of the next verse, and he dug his fingernails into his sleeve until they turned white.
“This is you,” you expelled in pure infatuation. “Eddie!” You clasped his bicep, and leaned in to him, excelling at matching his enthusiasm from earlier, and surpassing it. “Eddie, this is you!” He opened his eyes and slouched away from your efforts in a laugh, angling his face into his hair to hide his shy grin.
You ran your hand along his forearm and tugged, wheedling him out of the tight hug he had himself locked in, urging him to open up. “This is you singing, isn’t it? This is your band.” The cassette case was behind him. Corroded Coffin. Same name as what was on his sweatshirt on Halloween. 
The second button on his coveralls snapped open, below the one he always kept unfastened. You didn’t know at what point you were bold enough to put your hand on his chest, nor gather the fabric into your fist while shaking some sense into him, but you did. You really did expose the tight white shirt clinging to his sticky skin. All for the sake of validating Eddie.
When he continued acting far too humble–shrinking into himself, and mumbling how it wasn’t that cool–you wasted no time embarrassing yourself by jumping on your tiptoes, telling him just how cool it was, you promised.
Reaching behind him, he slapped the volume knob down so you both could stop shouting.
“I appreciate the groupie attitude, but it’s not like we’re a big deal, or anything,” he said, awkwardly folding one of his arms on top of the workbench as he surrendered and turned to you. His other hand hesitated near the bottom of the jacket. “About once a month we get a gig in Indy. Doesn’t pay much, but it covers the cost of the trip, and we get a decent crowd, I guess. Uhm, the venue sells out.. sometimes. People know some of the lyrics. We sell a couple of shirts..” he trailed off upon making eye contact. “We only get to practice on the days I leave work early. Maybe on the weekend.. so.”
Overflowing with sincerity, you trusted your hands to behave themselves on his forearm, laying your decent fingers over the tensed muscle above his wrist where he wore his watch.
He canted his head, and gave you a cynical look. “It’s not like we’re famous or anything.”
“I think it’s so cool you’re in a band,” you stressed. “How come you never told me?”
Shrugging, he glanced elsewhere. “Being you, and being from New York, you probably know hundreds of bands who’ve made it big. I’m sure you’ve met way more impressive people.”
Is that what this was about? Not sharing his theatrical past, and now his band because he was insecure about not impressing you, of all things? Using a resentful tone when speaking about his life versus yours, as if the comparisons mattered when it took all of your willpower to not stare at his lips in this proximity.
“Who cares who I’ve met. You sound amazing. The music, your voice. Everything. It’s uniquely yours, and I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner.”
Eddie sighed.
Cozying into the position, he leaned his weight on the arm you cupped your palms over, and there was a pull at the hem of the jacket. You shifted closer. He looped his finger into the pocket and rubbed his thumb along the edge of it, seeking an absent-minded distraction as he explained, “I also didn’t want to, ah–I don’t know.. Scare you off. Like, if you didn’t like it, or thought heavy metal was Satanic, or some shit.”
“Scare me off?” At least, you intended to repeat it back to him as a question, but your laugh interrupted you. “Oh, Eddie. Light of my day, my neverending fountain of mirth, a true joy to be around,” you gushed at his exaggerated sneer. “If you didn’t scare me off the first week of meeting you, where you made it a point to glare at me for the mere act of speaking in your direction, I don’t think your very obvious music taste would.”
He looked at his boots for a moment to reflect on his behavior, but forwent an apology, and instead asked, “So, you don’t think it’s lame for me to be pushing 30-years-old, and still playing in a garage band?” There was a truncated tension at the end of his question, like he wanted to add more self-deprecation to it, but stopped himself. Good thing, too, because you were about to voice your adulations until you were rendered to a puddle of embarrassment.
Sparing no sarcasm, you furrowed your brows and screwed your mouth into a snarky grin as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, girls find it totally lame when hot guys with long hair drive fast cars and play loud music and are in a band. It’s totally the most unattractive thing, especially when they have tattoos and are good singers. Definitely isn’t a turn-on at all.”
Too far, too much, too inappropriate–
The last sentence was over the line, and you could see it in his surprised eyebrows wrinkling his forehead, and his wide pupils boring into yours, and his cheeks reddening as your words sank in.
The garage went viscerally quiet.
He stopped fidgeting with the jacket pocket.
Mistake, mistake, mistake.
“Not just the vocalist,” he said, voice cracking on the whisper. “I play lead guitar, too.”
You spat out, “Very cool,” desperate for the relief of his face cracking into a flattered grin.
But no, Eddie didn’t grant you such comfort. However, he did spare you the chance to scratch at the anxious sweat dripping down your back when he rearranged how he was standing, and spun around to the stereo. “It’s pretty late, huh? We should probably get going.” He pressed his hips to the workbench as he organized the tapes into their cases. Then, he paused.
The case yours went to was blank. Nothing written on the dotted lines on the back, nor on the front of the tape.
“I need my jacket back,” he reminded you.
“R-Right.”
You shimmied it off, and handed it to him. He draped it over his arm, and clutched the bulk to his stomach, covering his front as he turned to face you again. “Here.” Holding out the black and white cassette with a stylized logo he drew himself, he gave you his personal copy of Corroded Coffin’s first recording session. “You take mine. I’ll take yours.”
“Are you sure?”
Staring at the mixtape compiled of the cheesy love songs you made over the course of a few nights, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” And as he dragged his feet backwards–avoiding the space heater without looking–he said on his way to the tray where he kept his rings, “We should do this again. The whole.. dancing thing.” He gestured with the tape. “I’ll pick the music next time, too.”
With his back to you, he cleaned up his station, and let you know you could go. “I’ll lock up behind you.”
“You never answered if you were helping me hang decorations,” you found your voice. It was hiding behind a hammering heart, and shallow-filled lungs.
Outside, a car honked at a truck to take their turn at a green light.
The metal teeth on his jacket ground together as Eddie zipped it up. He sank his heavy hands into the pockets to weigh them down, and crossed his work boots at the ankle to about-face in a sort of pirouette, pinning you with his lopsided grin and mellow demeanor. “You know, I thought with all the life lessons I’ve had to learn over the past five years, I’d be able to resist a pretty girl asking me to do things for her.” He snorted and flicked his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head. “But when they’re as beautiful as you, I just can’t.”
His gaze came crashing down onto you, and your tongue froze at the tip of your teeth.
“Alright, Casanova,” you let out in a shaky breath. “I’ll take that as you agreeing, and will see you bright and early, and without any complaints.” You left as fast as you could.
No, really. The Tour de France better have a spot open for you, with how fast you pedaled home to sit on your bed, cross legged, happily ruining your hearing from having the volume scrolled to the max on your Walkman, listening to Eddie’s voice, wondering at what point the endorphins would wear off and you were stuck agonizing over how blatant you were about calling your coworker hot. And how he called you beautiful in return.
————
Talking amongst the sputtering coffee machine beginning its brew:
“The fourth one–uh–Solivagant, is definitely my favorite!”
“That one’s instrumental,” Eddie pouted. “And here I was under the impression you liked my lyrics.. Mm, a little lower on your side.”
You put blu-tack on your end of the banner, and pressed it into the wall. “I do! But that one really got stuck in my head. The way all the guitars came together to play the harmony was just–Eddie! You did that on purpose.”
Stepping around to the other side of the lunch table, you threw your head back in a groan at the glittery Happy Holidays sign you wrongly assumed he would help you hang without turning it into a way to tease you.
“You’re the worst,” you grumbled on your way to fix the banner so it was even, and his side wasn’t higher by a few inches.
“Sorry,” he said weakly between his snickering. “Let me.”
There was no letting him do what he wanted. He was going to push his way into your space, regardless. Literally, shoving a chair out of his way with his hip, and standing behind you to peel the sticky tacky off the wall, and raising it from your face’s height, to slightly above your head, needlessly, infuriatingly, unhelpfully helping you. Barging in with his hand on your shoulder, and his body at your back. Closer, more intimate than the time at the grocery store.
His inhale swelled his solid chest against your shoulder blades, and his hum rumbled down your spine. “Am I supposed to dress up nice for your party?”
You twisted your head back to admire the underside of his freshly shaven jaw smelling of astringent spice. “Only if you feel like it,” you guessed. “The dress I’m wearing is pretty casual, but you don’t have to do anything special if you don’t want to.” After circling his thumb over the tacky corner of the sign, he dropped his arms, grazing them over yours, if only in passing. “I think the other guys are wearing button down shirts.”
His gaze drifted as he visualized his closet.
You stared. “Do you really not have one nice shirt?”
“I might still have the one from my job interview,” he said, tucking his chin to look at you, creating a silly amount of wrinkles along his burgeoning grin.
The front door chimed. Either Carl, Kevin, or your boss just walked in, and it was then Eddie realized the position he had you in. It struck him when his peppermint-candy-and-cigarettes breath caressed your fluttering lashes, and he could discern the bubblegum flavored chapstick on your lips, just like you could observe the balm on his.
If someone saw him trapping you alone in the breakroom against the wall with your backside pressed to him, there would be no delicate conversation about consensual workplace relationships. He’d be gone.
“Sorry!”
Eddie made his swift retreat–three, no, four steps away.
You widened your eyes at him, at his obviousness, and tried to communicate through your facial expression you knew what he was thinking, and everything was okay. You two were a bit too comfortable around each other, that’s all. It wasn’t something serious he needed to explain away. No one caught him. It was innocent, like slow dancing when no one was around. Innocent. Teasing.
“I, uhm– Y-Yeah, the shirt.” He forced his fingers to unclench into limp fists at his side. Face pale, yet hot. “It’s–I’ll wear it.”
Wringing your hand around the fridge door handle, you bent towards him, and raised your eyebrows higher, imploring him to chill. “Eddie, you can come in a t-shirt and jeans. It doesn’t matter. Adrie can wear whatever she wants, too. It’s just a casual thing.”
Totally casual. Like the body heat fading from the back of your green knit sweater where his chest became acquainted with the acrylic. Dissipating on his skin beneath his coveralls where the crown of your head met his shoulder. Very casual.
“Uhm–”
“So..”
You both started, and ended.
“Mornin’!” Mr. Moore’s gruff greeting came from the hallway.
Treating it as a warning, you each responded with an acknowledgement of your boss’ appearance as he walked into the room. “Good morning!” and “Salutations!” To which you shut your eyes in exasperation at Eddie’s unusual welcome, begging him to act normal while Mr. Moore poured sugar in his coffee.
After stirring in complete silence, he took turns smiling at you both, and meandered to his office, closing the door behind him.
Eddie shifted topics to the table where piles of garland remained coiled.
“Should we–?”
“Wanna just, uh, forget decorating for today, ‘nd do it tomorrow?” you spoke over him.
“Yeah,” he answered, nodding too enthusiastically. He tossed his hair out of his face, revealing the red tips of his ears for a split-second, and said, “Tomorrow, yeah. We can do the rest of this shit tomorrow.”
A very graceful conversation between two people who just had a very ordinary interaction without any explicit implications.
“We’re still having lunch together later, right?” you asked.
“Duh. You’ve gotta finish giving me your thoughts on the rest of our EP. The chorus for Taladasian Empire has some meta references to the other songs, I don’t know if you caught onto that, but the second verse mentions..”
Oh, he was adorable when he hyperfixated. Not only did it steer the conversation away from the previous blood-scorching incident, but it was rather nice to have a reason to stare at his lips move a mile a minute as he conjured an unprompted dissertation about his music’s lore, even as you were sitting at your desk, pointing at your ringing phone, and suggesting he should also get to work.
There were only two days left before the long holiday, and customers needed their cars before the shop was closed for the break.
————
Kevin sipped his coffee in the early morning sunlight filtering through the garage.
You garnered Eddie’s help whenever he was available, and the current task was dressing up your receptionist desk to look like a big present, complete with a gold bow flowing over the ledge where the candy bowl sat. Eddie crouched at one end holding a roll of wrapping paper while you unfurled it to the other, and measured it to the side facing the lobby.
Kevin watched the interaction through a unique lens, noting how Eddie bounced on his heels, appearing both bored and anxious to get back to work, but when he glanced over at you–at your face pinched in concentration as you fought with the tape dispenser with one hand–it was as if his worries melted away.
The boy calmed down.
Though Kevin didn’t come in often, the effect you had on the misfit was overt in the sweetest way. It reminded him of his first and last love, who had since passed.
~~~
Carl sipped his coffee as he stood in the doorway to the breakroom.
The lobby was taken over by a cheerful wonderment.
Eddie was hanging white and blue streamers from the drop ceiling tiles, while you decorated the windows with silver snowflakes. At first, Carl thought Eddie was pinning them up around the perimeter of the room because he lacked direction, but then he saw why he insisted on following you around, setting up the step ladder directly behind you.
Without discussing it, you reached out for Eddie’s arm as you stepped onto the cushiony lobby chair customers sat in when waiting for their cars, and he was at the ready. He lent his balance to you, crooking his elbow for you to slot your fingers into, and once steady, you let go.
The conversation picked up where it was left off, and the decorating continued.
Now that the glass door was unblocked, Kevin shuffled inside with his cold mug to get a refill, and stopped next to Carl on his way to the coffee machine.
“You sure those two ain’t datin’?” he asked.
Carl shrugged with his mug on the way to his mouth. “Apparently not. Ed said they’re just friends.”
At a sound in the lobby, they craned their heads to the furthest wall to witness Eddie beaming down at you. His smile was a rarity, and watching the enormous emotion take over him when you touched his arm and laughed at his joke; it was a sight worthy of remembering.
Kevin scratched at the side of his head, then straightened out the bill to his baseball cap over his wispy white hair, and squinted at the mischievous glint in Carl’s eyes.
“But David did say he walked in on them looking mighty flustered yesterday.”
“Did he, now?”
Swallowing the hot coffee with a wet smack of his lips, he emphasized a drawn out, “Yep.”
Kevin suggested, “Maybe the holiday spirit will take over, and they’ll confess their feelings under some mistletoe.”
“Uck,” he replied with a disgusted noise. “You’re always such a romantic.”
“You’re the one starin’ at them,” Kevin countered on his way to the coffee pot, shuffling from the arthritis in his knees, and focusing his energy into keeping his trembling hand still as he poured his drink. “Besides, I think his little girl would appreciate having someone like her in their lives.”
————
Four hours before the party, the auto shop was swept into a flurry of activity.
Carl and Kevin each had vehicles to work on; driving a truck out to the parking lot for a customer to pick up after you called them, and driving a car in. Working in tandem to the jolly Christmas music on the radio. Crowding the garage with discarded packaging from parts that would be gathered to be burned later.
“Guh–” You hung up the phone, and pressed a button to erase what you previously recorded after you stuttered over part of your script.
This outgoing message thing wasn’t going well.
Sighing, you picked it up and pressed the record button again. “You’ve reached David’s Auto Shop at..” you enunciated the number and address in an even tone. “We’re currently closed for the Holidays, and will open at 8AM, Mon–”
The smell of cigarettes should’ve been your first warning. The hand tipping your office chair back should’ve been the second. The general Eddie-ism of it all should’ve been the third.
Eddie blew a raspberry directly into the receiver.
“You! Why! That one was perfect. God, you are so–freaking–annoying. I swear. Obnoxious little..” Fuming, you hung up, and glared at him.
He cackled on his way to the garage. “Hey, since you’re not busy, can you help me roll this stack of tires to the Buick over there?” Before you could share the choice words you had prepared for him–before you could process the droplets of spit drying on your cheek–before the door could hit him on the way out–he spun and caught it and ducked his head back in. “Oh! Don’t forget your policy. Can’t say no to helping me, huh?” On his smooth exit, he winked and made a clicking sound with his mouth, flashing a gratuitous amount of teeth on the smirk.
“You are the absolute worst.” You grabbed your hoodie and followed him, pointedly not thanking him for holding the door open for you. “And you know what? I seriously regret ever telling you about my dumbass policy.”
“Really? I’ve only just begun to actualize the potential for making you do things for me. I’m loving it!”
~~~
Three hours before the party, you put the finishing touches on the breakroom before Robin arrived with the food you ordered from the bakery and deli at the grocery store. Some was excess that would’ve gone to waste; extra cupcakes, and cookies. Other things were ordered, like finger sandwiches, veggie trays, and an arrangement of cheese cubes with those cute toothpicks that have red and green cellophane at the top. You also gave her money for the makings of smores, bags of pretzels, and crackers, themed plates and cups to match. The works.
You cleaned the countertop free of appliances, putting them away in the cupboards to make space and give outlets to the crockpots Mr. Moore’s wife was bringing later.
Otherwise, you shoved a tall stool borrowed from the garage in the corner of the room, and placed the small TV from Mr. Moore’s office on it, intending to play Holiday programs while people funneled in and out.
~~~
Two hours before the party, the sun was setting on the horizon. Eddie moved his car to the end of the alleyway, and Carl rolled out a barrel to be stuffed with leftover cardboard boxes, and firewood he brought from home.
He and Eddie moved the workbench to the service door, and set up the bigger TV so people could watch the football game while standing around the fire.
~~~
One hour before the party, the garage was cleared of anything that a child could hurt themselves on or with, and the shop was hushed in wait. Eddie left first to get Adrie from school, and go home to change. The other guys did the same, leaving to collect what family they were bringing, while you stayed behind to stress over having enough food to feed everyone, even after Robin dropped off more snacks than you remembered listing, along with your party clothes.
————
The evening began trepidatious.
Guests filled the lobby like a sea of warmly-dressed sardines. Scarves, mittens, jackets brushed necks, hands, shoulders. Those recognizing each other hugged, while three rambunctious dogs wove through their legs. You introduced yourself to Mr. Moore’s daughter, Misty, and waved at her newborn. Carl’s teenage sons took the opportunity of their mom being busy to throw pebbles at each other outside. Mr. Moore’s wife and her brother and his eldest son were either setting up food or starting the fire. There was a moody girl of unknown origin moping in the corner. You lost track. It was hard to concentrate in the excitement.
You tugged your sleeves into your palms, and looked around the room for what must’ve been the hundredth time..
Eddie was late, and it was difficult keeping the concern off your face.
“Don’t look so worried,” Kevin said, landing a hand on your back as he shuffled by, carrying the scent of lighter fluid and smoke. “Your date’s still in his car. Probably workin’ up the nerve to come see you.”
“He’s not my date,” you corrected with a comically repulsed frown, hoping he’d buy it. “We’re friends.”
A twinkle danced in his stark blue eyes, and his open-mouthed smile peeked from beneath his thick mustache. “Look out.”
Look out?
A pair of tiny arms hugged you around your ass, and if it wasn’t for the tell-tale giggle, your stomach would be flipping with a much different emotion.
“Adrie!” You twisted and subtly scooped her arms higher on your hips before cupping the back of her head, and hugging her to your leg in the warmest greeting you could muster while your brain went to mush.
“You made it,” you said, staring, staring, staring.
Eddie pressed his lips together as he looked from his daughter to you. Happiness etched itself in every facet of his expression; in the tight smile he failed to control, to the tenderness of his half-closed eyes shining behind his lashes, his confident stance with his hands slotted into his work jacket pockets, in his washed hair falling to one side as he let his head loll from the heavy thoughts swaying his shoulders in a slow rocking motion. Everything about him was relaxed upon seeing you.
“You look beautiful,” he complimented with a magnificent amount of ease, as if he wasn’t a bundle of anxiety minutes ago. Yet, he didn’t withhold his praise. In gradual seconds–each longer than the last–he beheld your appearance in the highest regard, noting the vast departure from the jeans you usually wore.
The burgundy pinafore dress fit you snug, and the hem stopped high on your thighs. The thin white turtleneck underneath clung to your figure, and your black pantyhose matched your chunky Mary Janes.
It was one beret and a baguette short from being an outfit you wore for a skit with your comedy troupe, but he didn’t have to know that.
“Really beautiful,” he said to himself, taking you in, his whisper lost amongst the beginning strums of Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree playing from the garage.
Adrie grabbed at the dress around your waist, chaining herself to you in a needy act for attention, and you stroked your thumb over her hair in return, eyes refusing to leave her father.
“And what about you, handsome?” You signaled it was his turn to show off.
So far, the formfitting gray slacks with a faint plaid pattern were doing him justice, but you wanted to see the whole thing.
Peacocking, Eddie lifted an arrogant brow on the same side of his smirk, and put some confidence in how he unzipped his jacket, savoring the anticipation. Opening it slowly to unveil, unfathomably, a button up shirt. White with blue stripes. Untucked, of course. Dropping the jacket from his shoulders, he strutted in a circle, giving you the full view of his back–no rugged coveralls, no leather, no durable canvas, no sweatshirt–just thin polycotton blend stretched over his frame alluding to his musculature.
Working the jacket back up his arms, he presented one of his legs forward. “Think I gained some weight since I last wore these. They used to fit better.”
Oh. Oh, no. They fit perfectly.
While he was busy looking at where the slacks tapered to his black boots, you were commending other areas. Like his thighs, where the pants gave a slim shadow where his boxers ended. And a little higher, to the place the fabric bunched around, and forced the zipper to curve outward. The real deal. The whole package. The big show.
Jesus..
“You look good,” you croaked out with the last of the air in your lungs. He jerked his head up, and smiled his usual way–too wide, a little askew, showing more teeth on one side than the other. “Should’ve known you’d be just as handsome dressed up as you are in a t-shirt and jeans.”
“You hear that, Adrie? It was worth it being late, because I look extra handsome.”
“I didn’t say extra–”
“Who cares,” she whined at him. After demonstrating an ounce of patience while her dad took a shower, washed his hair, shaved, spritzed on too much cologne, and stood in front of the mirror debating over wearing his nicer clothes or his usual ripped jeans for an excruciating number of minutes, she was at her limits. “My outfit is way, way, way cuter,” she argued in her kid-like way, fighting for your approval.
You crouched to her level, and she twirled in a circle, copying him. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! Your sweatshirt is way, way, way cuter than his boring clothes. What does it say?” Somewhere above you, you heard Eddie suck his teeth.
Adrie pinched the red pullover and held it out for you to read along with her.
“Santa’s.. Widdle helper.” The pronunciation wasn’t her fault. Upon closer inspection, the text did indeed spell ‘little’ as ‘wittl’.’
“And who’s that?” you asked, pointing at the character jumping out of a Christmas stocking on the front.
“Tweety Bird!”
“Alright!” You held your hand up, and she high-fived you.
Thrown back into reality at a dog’s yip, and Mr. Moore’s survey of heads, you let go of the romanticized bubble you surrounded yourself in, where it was just you, Adrie, and Eddie, and took heed of the packed room lurching towards the smell of cooked meatballs wafting in the air.
“Everyone here?” Mr. Moore asked, and when a murmur arose, he rubbed his hands together, and announced, “Let’s eat! Game starts soon.”
The sardine conglomerate moved as one, making a concentrated effort to form a line from the breakroom, down the hallway, and ending where you stood at the glass door. Adrie struggled to accept being last in line, but you prepared many distractions for her; the first of which being Eddie’s present.
“I got something for you,” you said, and reached over the ledge of your desk, patting around in search of the special item. He expressed an unreasonable amount of suspicion. “You have to promise to wear it. Or else..” You gave Adrie a look, and she had a pout at the ready if he didn’t comply.
“I don’t like it when you two gang up on me,” he mumbled, eyeing you.
“Too bad. Here.”
Eddie snorted at the red, white, fuzzy, jingly accessory in your hand. “Really?” he asked, and laughed, “Would’ve worn it anyway.”
After a pause where he held the Santa hat in strange contemplation, he humbly knelt on his knees to Adrie, and asked her to do the honors, “Wanna put it on for me?” She did so enthusiastically, jamming the hat on his head, rattling the bell at the end of the cap, and calling him Daddy Santa while roughly combing his hair. He was sure to hold your gaze as he prompted Adrie, “Not real Santa, right?”
“No, you’re Daddy Santa. Real Santa is coming in two days! And he’s bringing me lots of presents because I’ve been good.”
You understood, then, the glaze of fatigue in the look he gave you. It’d be a few more years until Adrie thanked him for the miracles in her life, the food in her belly, the roof over her head, and as a father, he only hoped he’d fix his situation before she learned the full details of his sacrifices to raise her, to give her a room, to provide her with a bed of her own while he went without.
Still, he was in the constant battle of yearning for the acknowledgement, while fearing her growing up and discovering the real world.
A complex set of emotions to parse for both him and his daughter, and he had to do it alone.
“Ow, Adrie..”
Coming to his rescue when she began pinching his cheeks to a rosy state, you got her attention, “Don’t think I forgot about you, cutie pie.” From behind the ledge, you pulled out a pair of reindeer antlers on a headband, and slid them on for her, doubling as a way to keep her bangs out of her eyes.
Glee burst across her face in a smile which rivaled the dawning rays of the rising sun. Deep-seated satisfaction erupted in your chest at her joy over the small gesture. Her immediate desire was to be picked up by you, ready to be doted on, and in that moment, you wanted nothing other than to gather her in your arms. But Eddie stole her for himself. You were left Adrie-less. And the fact it bothered you, and the fact making his daughter happy affected you in a way you’d only begun to unpack last week when you asked Robin to drive you to the toy store at the mall, was complicated.
“You can’t coerce Miss Mouse into picking you up at your command,” he told her in a playful tone. “You’re a big girl now, and only Daddy’s strong enough to hold you.”
“Oh, puh-lease.” As if your tongue wasn’t already stuck out in disgust, it certainly was when he made a show of flexing his biceps. Under his jacket. Like that would prove anything.
Now, if he were wearing less..
You latched onto the change of subject in your mind, and moved on with the night, away from the poignant feelings of longing for something you hadn’t quite figured out yet.
For now, you made a sardine family. You, Adrie, and Eddie. Your hand in hers, she on his hip, and his kiss to her forehead, fond of one another. Huddled in shared conversation–the type where everything faded away. No one else. Just you, Adrie, and Eddie.
You volunteered to make their dinner. With Adrie clinging to his side, she was able to boss you into putting whatever she wanted on her plate, and you checked Eddie’s amused face every time she added another carrot or ham pinwheel, knowing he’d be the one to eat it when she was full. After hers, you made his, and after his, you made yours. Balancing them all on your palms and forearm, and bringing them to your desk, assuring Eddie he could have the office chair while you took the black stool.
Poor him, though. He sat with Adrie in his lap, desperate to maneuver around her antlers to get a mini cupcake in his mouth while you freely ate your sandwiches, and answered her questions about if reindeer were real, and if they could fly. (Yes, and yes.)
Other guests were present in the lobby, you knew, but at the impact of your knee prodding Eddie’s thigh, and his sly grin over Adrie’s head, they faded away once more.
Until a flash startled you both from your ga-ga gazing into each other’s eyes.
“Just saving memories!” Kevin exclaimed, scrolling his thumb over the disposable camera’s film cog.
And before you could blink away the spot invading your vision, he was gone. “Hope we looked good, at least,” you said to Eddie, not having a candid picture taken since you moved to Hawkins.
He snorted, and leaned around Adrie to see the meatball he was quartering for her with a plastic fork. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, sweetheart.”
Your heart fluttered at the endearment. He said it in a casual manner, not like when he was trying to fluster you. And the compliment was sincere, not teasing. It was sweet, with his arm around his daughter to keep her from squirming away, and the warm comfort of his leg against yours, body heat transferring from his slacks through your thin pantyhose.
A moment you’d like to remember. Including..
“Here,” you giggled.
He looked at the napkin you held out to him, and where you tapped at the corner of your mouth. “Oh.”
In true Eddie fashion, he used his tongue to edge at the green icing, following it with his thumb to get whatever he missed and sucking the rest from his fingers while still managing to entertain Adrie with questions about what she did in preschool today, and dipping a carrot in ranch, dropping some of it too onto his pinky and licking that off without hesitation too. A chaotic mess of a man.
~~~
As predicted, it didn’t take long for Adrie to get bored, and she wandered off to play with Kevin’s dogs. Eddie took it upon himself to finish the monumental task of eating the assortment of leftovers she surrendered on her plate. A real hero of the times, scarfing down the butter ring cookies she wore on her fingers, and downing the sip of juice she didn’t want.
The conversation between you two was the easy kind. Simple, flowing. He slouched to the side with his elbow on the desk, cheek to his fist, legs spread,  listening to you talk about nothing.
“And as you can see” –You pulled open the second drawer to the short filing cabinet under your desk– “I’m all organized for the new year. Got my Post-it notes, a new set of highlighters, some of those fancy pens that make my handwriting look nicer. Living a life of luxury over here.”
“Very cool,” he replied in a hollow tone, implying it was in a mocking ‘you’re adorable’ kind of way, and not a ‘wow, you bought the Bugs Bunny themed sticky notes, that’s very cool of you’ kind of way.
You pushed the drawer closed with your foot, and rocked on your stool, grinning.
Beyond the circle of touching knees, fluorescent lights, and brave glances, there was an abrupt cheer at a scored touchdown. In the lobby, the mothers grouped the chairs together to adore the hiccuping newborn. In the parking lot, the teenage boys drove a remote control car around. The moody girl brought a skewer and marshmallows out to the fire. A Jack Russell terrier panted at your calf. Kevin patted Adrie’s head, and stooped to whisper a secret in her ear as they passed each other outside the glass door.
Eddie took the pom pom end of his Santa hat between two fingers and rattled the bell at you. He looked like he was about to speak, but someone special interrupted him.
“I’ve been sent on a mission. You have to come with me!”
You both turned to Adrie.
When neither of you did anything besides raise your eyebrows expectantly, and she didn’t give more context, nor information, she got impatient. “Come on!” she pleaded with a stomp, and grabbed your hand, and you grabbed Eddie’s sleeve on instinct, practically tripping him over your stool while she dragged you into the hallway.
After several feet, she stopped. You stopped, Eddie stopped.
“What’s the mission?” he played along, linking his hand in hers so you were one big circle. A sardine family.
She didn’t speak. Only grinned, and giggled.
Not catching on, you exchanged a confused shrug with Eddie, and asked her, “Is it a riddle?”
More laughter. Harder, more persistent tugs around your pinky and ring finger where she snared you. And a direct, focused smile aimed above your heads.
Slowly–slowly–slowly–
You straightened up from how you were bent over, and listened to Eddie’s clothes shift as he did the same. You followed the invisible line to where she was looking, tipping your head back in curiosity to see what was taped to the doorway exactly between you, and her beloved dad.
There was silence all around.
From the sharp leaves and red berries of the mistletoe, your gaze began its slow descent to Eddie’s. Passing over the red hat, the wrinkled forehead with messy bangs flattened onto it, the worried eyebrows. His sickly pale cheeks, flushed red lips. Suspended in time. Heart in your tight throat, pounding pulse, stomach twisting. 
You searched the frightened sheen in his eyes.
“I didn’t hang that, I swear,” he whispered.
“I didn’t either,” you promised just as quickly.
It didn’t matter who did.
There was noise all around. The football game turned to a commercial, and heavy feet announced people entering the garage, and approaching the glass door, coming inside to refresh their drinks and nibble at the cheese cubes.
Quickly–quickly–quickly–
“She.. We’ve been watching a lot of Christmas movies, and she must’ve seen it in one of them.” Lowering his voice, he brought his hand up in a sympathetic gesture, trying to explain her behavior. You let go of his sleeve. “She doesn’t understand.. The meaning, and everything.” He paused. “Us.” Another pause, a tic in his lower lip like a tremble. “Working together, and stuff.” Voice almost mute. “That w-we can’t..”
As much as you wanted to smash your lips on his to stop him from overexplaining the multitude of reasons you two couldn’t, or shouldn’t kiss, (you’re at work, this place smells like meatballs, his daughter is right there, Mr. Moore’s shadow breached the lobby, the fact Eddie chose listing coworkers as his rationale for not kissing you and not because you two were friends, but then again, what if he was about to say that, that he only saw you as a friend, and maybe being coworkers was an easier excuse than saying he wasn’t into you like that, oh god–), you had to get out of this situation with grace.
“No, yeah, I get it. Uhm.” Think fast, think fast, think fast. “You know who else is under the mistletoe, hmm?” you drew out the hum to build tension, setting your sights on your target.
Adrie squealed when you snatched her up and spun in a circle, attacking her cheeks with an unrelenting amount of kisses; the type that were quick pecks with lots of kissy noises, so saccharine and fawning and annoying to listen to. Tender and pure and tempting to the man who made a conscious effort to release the pinch of frustration from his face, and remorse from his discontent sigh before answering your question.
“Can she have one of these chocolate snowmen?”
“Only if you’re willing to tire her out before we leave,” Eddie said, taking intentional steps towards you and Adrie on your hip, leaving the mistletoe and its implications behind. He placed a friendly hand along your shoulder blade. His other hand was more menacing on her back, as indicated by her eyes growing large.
He warned her in a stern tone, “If you have too much sugar and keep me up all night, you’ll never have another dessert again.”
She called him out, point blank, nose turned up in triumph. “You’ve already said that before, and I got cookies anyway.”
Your cookies, he said in a quick glance and eyebrow wag at you, before speaking to her again, “You got me there. However.. I would hate for Santa to find out you stayed up past your bedtime.” He sucked his teeth with a pitying shrug. “The consequences are steep. He’s very strict, you know.”
Adrie’s frown was serious.
Eddie was having too much fun using his one seasonal threat to get her to behave.
“Aw, don’t listen to him,” you soothed her. You lifted your chin so she could burrow her head against your neck, and amended, “Well, do listen to your dad, but I have something special planned for us, Adrie.” She roused out of her heart-wrenching pout, and hugged you harder, kicking her feet around your waist in excitement.
You smiled at him, but your gaze fell elsewhere, passing over the men in the hallway, and taking a last, long look at the mistletoe, seeing it for the confusing event it created, not the romantic scene it was known for. “I’ll take her for the night. You go watch the game, or something. Hang out with the adults. I’ve got her.”
The tiny room became overcrowded. Someone whispered, “Oh, aren’t they cute together,” and Eddie chewed on his inner cheek. He removed his hand from you, fingertips slipping over the back of your dress, catching the strap, then your side, below your ribs, above Adrie’s leg. Measured, methodical touches. Not accidents.
While his face lacked strong emotions, there were words in his eyes. Maybe they were an apology for the weirdness you now found yourselves in, or a thank you for taking her off his hands for a bit, or they were something else entirely. He didn’t say.
“You two have fun,” he expressed in his soft voice, and grabbed a cold soda on his way out.
~~~
A cold soda did not unwind him like a beer.
Eddie warmed himself by the barrel fire while the game played. Though any opportunity to talk with his peers rarely expanded past the usual topics of work and raising his daughter, and were frequently shadowed by what was happening on the screen, he didn’t mind the interruption. He knew the rules of the game enough to feel a sense of camaraderie when they celebrated. And really, he just wanted the time to think. Or not think. Definitely not think about how he reacted earlier, stumbling over his words to assure you he wasn’t some creep who hung mistletoe as a way to trick you into kissing him. Absolutely not agonize over his inability to articulate himself, and provide you with an out while also reminding himself why he shouldn’t listen to his impulse clawing to be released, and kiss you on the spot. And certainly not consider your mild response to the whole thing, and how your gaze lingered–for a millisecond–on his lips before you scooped Adrie into your arms.
Eddie ran the heel of palm along his jaw, back and forth, and worked it to the back of his neck, wringing his nape in tight squeezes to release the tension.
A beer was definitely better than soda, but so be it. He downed the rest of it, and justified going inside for another. Of course, his motives for going through the lobby weren’t to quench his thirst, but as he almost ran face-first into the glass door, his mouth went dry.
Your ass in the curve-hugging dress was the first thing he noticed. Noticed it because you were curled into the fetal position on the floor, pretending to die a dramatic death. Oh, and you were wearing a black cape adorned in shiny gold stars, and your mouse ears from Halloween, along with a crown.
The loud crunch of him crushing his soda can got your attention.
“You don’t always have to dress like a mouse for her; she knows who you are,” he said in cool nonchalance on his way to the fridge.
You pointed a pirate’s cutlass at him, regarding him down the plastic blade. “I’m the Rat King.”
The music on the portable radio changed moods from a battle march to a victorious, slow piece.
Ditching the mouse ears by throwing them aside into a small pile of other props, you instructed Adrie to exchange her rapier for a flower crown. “Ooh, ooh! And this is where Clara and the Nutcracker Prince dance. Yeah, hold my hand, lift your leg in arabesque. Just like that.” You walked around her, spinning her in a circle while she posed with her leg behind her, and when you let go, you granted her the stage to improv what ballet moves she knew through pop culture osmosis, clapping and gasping and cheering her on, both of you panting from the exertion of playing an entire cast of characters.
There was a pang in Eddie’s stomach. The usual stuff: wanting to watch, wanting to join, wanting to stop it. The jealousy of being left out of the intimate moment, the yearn to add a third to his and Adrie’s life, the grief of when things don’t work out and this was a mistake. Decisions, daydreams, the reality of you maybe moving away, maybe not. Maybe dating him, maybe not. Maybe making work a place he dreaded coming to again if he tried something and it ended in disaster.
He had no other job options.
And yet..
“Hey.” Eddie traced the rim of the chilled soda in his hand, collecting condensation. “Ah, the TV in there is playing those old claymation Christmas movies in a marathon. D’you guys wanna watch them with me?”
Teaching her to put her toe to her knee in the passé position, you asked, “Don’t you want to hang out and watch the game?” When he didn’t respond, you looked up at him. Immediately, your focus honed in on his shy habit of chewing on his bottom lip.
“Nah. Not really. I’d rather be in here.”
~~~
The breakroom lights were off, save for the dim set on either side of the sink lighting the buffet, and the air was humid from steam curling off the crockpots. On the table were three marshmallow snowmen held together by melted chocolate and pretzel stick arms; remnants of an impromptu competition of which he lost.
It was a warm and cozy affair, made more so by the three of you squished together to watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on the small TV in the corner. 
Adrie nestled deeper into her baby blanket. She had the quilt cocooned around her, running her fingertips over her mouth while she watched. Beside her, you sat with your hands laced in your lap, and at the end, Eddie slumped diagonally in his seat, propping his elbow on the back of your chair. Half paying attention to the stop motion film, half congratulating himself on getting this far. It took all of Jack Frost to work up the courage to daintily set his elbow at the very corner of your chair, almost making contact with your shoulder without worrying if he sweated through his deodorant or cologne yet..
But what if his breath smelled bad from the weird combination of food he ate?
Fuck–
The golden retriever lounging on the floor behind Adrie wagged his tail. Kevin’s distinct shuffle came down the hallway. “Well here’s where you three gone off to,” he said. His dog lifted his head, and licked his lips in anticipation for a pet. “Don’t mind me, just came in for another pepperoni slice, isn’t that right, Coop?”
Cooper panted at his name.
Adrie mumbled around her fingers, “I love your puppy. He’s the best.”
“Yeah, she adores him,” you added.
“Aw, you’re a good boy, aren’t ya?” Kevin bent down to praise his dog with a couple of pets under the chin. And when he was finished, he made a fuss about his old knees, and the cold weather affecting them, and the–whatever else he said.
Upon struggling to stand, Kevin sought a place to put his hand for assistance–and wouldn’t you know, the perfect spot was right in front of him. He clutched Eddie’s forearm for purchase, which incidentally took him off guard before he could brace his muscles, and pinned it to the back of your chair. Once the move was complete, Kevin stood and patted the spot he held until Eddie’s arm curved flush against your shoulders. Then he winked and walked off, no longer shuffling. Eddie stared open-mouthed at the determination.
His insides clenched with unreleased tension. The holly hung in the doorway. Things he wasn’t supposed to do. Anxiety, nerves heightened with the sensation of your solid body breathing beneath the weight of him.
Adrie mumbled something about what was happening on screen, and you said something back, nodding.
It’s not like this was the first time he put his arm around a girl. But it was the first time he did so with the burden of pessimism warning him not to.
He scrutinized the side of your face for any sign of acknowledgement that his arm was around you, but if you cared, you didn’t show it. You remained poised as ever.
You didn’t mind, outwardly.
So he didn’t either.
It was only in front of his boss that he lifted his arm to comb the hair off his neck when Mr. Moore entered. And as soon as he was gone, Eddie strung it casually across the back of your chair again, twirling a curl of Adrie’s hair around his finger.
And when Carl came in, you sat forward for the entire duration of his stay, eating a marshmallow while he was in the room. And when he left, you sank back into your seat.
The third time someone came in, neither of you moved. You followed each other’s lead and did nothing. Subconsciously–or consciously–finding the courage to fit your bodies together in a purposeful way, relaxing towards one another, and slotting into the cushiony space his arm allowed against his bulky jacket.
Time went on like that.
The conversation between you two was the easy kind. Wordless, intuitive. Exchanged in the permanent grin affixed to his face, and your tender hums of affection when you looked at him or Adrie. Somewhere in the silent conversation, he summoned the balls to stroke his thumb–only once–over the soft slope of your bicep, and coped with the aftermath of studying the profile of your lips tugging up at the corners.
~~~
The party came to its natural conclusion when the game ended. Eddie scooped what was left in the crockpots into mismatched tupperware he brought from home, filling up an old butter container with chili, and rinsing out the cookware to give back to its original owner. He placed cupcakes in their plastic clamshell packaging, and downsized the veggie tray into a manageable load. You played the part of an amiable host, and wished everyone a happy holiday on their way out, insisting you’d take care of cleaning up. Really, it was no problem. You had Eddie with you, and Adrie was helping by falling asleep with a crayon in her hand.
Eddie listened to you usher them out the door, and lock it behind them once they drove away.
In truth, he preferred them gone when you both made trips to his car, loading the backseat with the leftovers. Didn’t matter if they were room temperature carrots, or the mangled overcooked meatballs from the bottom of the crockpot, he accepted them.
He took inventory of the last containers on the breakroom table while you woke up Adrie, and for once, he felt okay.
Normally stress chewed holes in his stomach this time of year, but knowing the panic of not paying the electric bill before incurring another late fee would be eliminated by the generous bonus Moore gave him in the white envelope tucked away in his inner jacket pocket, Eddie felt.. alright. Like things would be alright. He put enough aside for his daughter to have one big present this year, and things would be alright.
“Ready?” you asked, holding Adrie’s hand in the doorway.
“Yeah, it’s just these two containers, and we’re good. Were we doing anything about the decorations?”
“Nah.” You waved him off. “We can take them down after the break.”
More than happy to get home and reap the reward of a full night’s sleep, he picked her up mid-yawn, and you carried the last of the containers to the car for him. While you found available space to shove the tupperware without it spilling, Eddie swayed with Adrie. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and closed his eyes, feeling himself meld into the drowsy moment, comforted by her weight in his arms.
He heard the gravel crunch from your movement, and your shivered exhale beneath your jacket. It was his turn to put Adrie in her carseat, but when he caught the dewy glimmer in your eye, he thought he might hold onto her for the next eternity if it meant he could earn that soft awe from you again.
However, it was cold out, and he should hurry up.
“Uh, there’s uh,” you started, standing back while he buckled Adrie in. “There’s actually one more thing inside.”
“There is?” he questioned dumbly. He glanced at your incessant finger guns pointed towards the back entrance door, and tried to picture what he left behind.
“Yeah, if you could just help me real quick.”
He shrugged and tucked the quilt tight around Adrie. “I’ll be right back, okay?” She nodded, and covered the lower half of her face with the blanket.
Still cool, calm, and collected, Eddie followed you into the garage, through the glass door, into the lobby, down the hallway, and stopped when you stopped. In the breakroom doorway. Under the..
He struggled to swallow around the lump in his throat.
Adrenaline raced to his nerves, to his brain, to his heart jumping in confusion. The addictive buzz enabled him to remember each detail of your lips parting, the sound of your shallow inhale, and the sting of doubt on his cheeks when you spun around and pried out the noisy keyring from your pocket, shaking them until you found the one to the storage closet.
You turned the key in the door opposite him in the hallway, and reached inside, into the dark. “I, uhm.. I got a present for Adrie, if that’s okay..”
“You..?” He went silent at the large gift bag you held out to him, with the giant portrait of jolly Saint Nick on the front bulging from what was inside.
Second guessing if you were overstepping boundaries with the gesture, you faltered, “If it’s not okay, I can, I guess–?”
“No, no,” he finally said, screwing his eyes shut at realizing he just stood there like a moron. “No, that’s, that’s so nice of you. I-I don’t even know what to say. Just, yeah.. You didn’t have to do something like that.” He accepted the bag, and hugged it to him, crushing the decorative tissue paper sticking out the top.
“I signed it as being from Santa. I figured that was appropriate.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s perfect. Uhm.. wow.”
He was doing his favorite trait–where his smile evolved into an open laugh; a little obnoxious, and a lot flirty–and he could tell when you beamed up at him and your cheesy grin overflowed into a giggle, it was your favorite trait too.
And you kept the presents rolling.
“As Office Administrator,” you said with a spry loveliness in your sidling up to him, “I have some insider knowledge that someone put in a good word for you, and uh, it looks like you’re getting a pretty nice raise at the beginning of the new year.” There was no mistaking who. “And I heard through the grapevine that Mr. Moore is going to start pulling from his retirement in June, and Misty isn’t interested in running the family business, so he’s seeking out a new owner,” you put more than a hint of inflection on the end of the sentence, and gave him a look.
You shrugged your shoulder to your chin. “Anyway, do with that information what you will.”
Eddie stayed stupefied, speechless, staring down at the bag. Because you were you, you ended the conversation with a weak punch to his arm when a car drove into the parking lot.
“That’s Robin,” you said.
He watched you walk away. Down the hall, into the lobby. Putting distance between him and the doorway to the breakroom, where his regrets taunted him.
The sharp leaves and red berries were lost amongst the shadows, but their warning rang true. The reasons he shouldn’t kiss you. The talk he never had with Adrie, the potential expiration date even if things did work out between you two, the issue of seeing each other every day and knowing he couldn’t handle the habitual rejection of ignoring the other’s existence if things went bad.
New year, same old coward.
Except.
An idea.
An impulse.
A vicious desire.
He rejected the rejection. “Wait!”
You turned, and jumped at his sudden appearance. Eyebrows raised in surprise, a fresh smile lighting up your face in the gentle moonlight.
Eddie stopped you by grabbing your hand, wielding you closer with his rough fingers pressed into your sweaty palm until your arms entwined, and your jackets rubbed. He dropped his head to the side with a shameful shake, and ran the tip of his tongue along his teeth, building to an apologetic admission. “I’m doing that thing again where I forget to thank you,” he said, not needing to speak above a whisper as he gazed down at you, unafraid.
“Then thank me,” you replied, curling your fingers around his.
His wavering voice went deeper in his chest, “Words don’t feel good enough anymore.” The bag under his arm crinkled as he lifted a finger at Robin who had come to peer inside the window, and very quickly made herself scarce after witnessing the moment she was intruding on. “You’re too sweet, and I don’t even get to drive you home.”
You encouraged him in a laugh. “Then think of another way to thank me that’s not transportation based.”
A bad thought bloomed warmth across his cheeks. “I will,” he promised, nodding. “I’ll find a better way to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and Adrie. Something good.”
“Looking forward to it.”
You lingered for a second, waiting, and when you both remained kissless, you rocked your body into him, cozying your sides together with your joined arms squeezed between in a sort of goodbye hug. “Speaking of Adrie, you might want to get back to her before she becomes a popsicle.”
He inhaled sharply and snapped his head up. “Yeah, I should probably go start the car.”
“Have a good holiday, Eddie. Get lots of rest over the break, okay?”
“I will, I will.”
With an absolutely astounding amount of memories made today, you were both content to step away from each other and go home to begin the tossing and turning, sickly sweet, cold-side-of-the-pillow reminiscing about the brave glances, and daring touches.
You reached for the door handle.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
You stalled with your back facing him. Thinking you were sly, you checked the reflection to see what part of you his gaze was admiring, and you laughed.
Finally. He was making eye contact with you through the glass.
“Goodnight, handsome,” you answered, and left with your smile ducked into your collar.
The evening ended spectacularly.
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